The roads are quiet and dark as I make my way toward the country bar. I hear noises all around me, animals that move around in the dark. No good can come from crossing their paths and I hope that they will stay in their respective areas of the darkness and nowhere near me.
Keeping my head down, I focus on my feet, putting one foot in front of the other. Tears prick my eyes at the thought of leaving that beautiful man and that comfortable bed.
My body yearns to stay back, to stay wrapped in his muscular arms. My head is smarter than that though, my head knows that nothing good could come from seeing the disappointment in his eyes when he realizes exactly who and what I am.
It seems like I walk for hours, especially with how uncomfortable these shoes are. A truck’s roar comes up behind me, I see the shadow of the headlights and I hold my breath.
“Please, don’t let me die tonight,” I whisper.
“Exeter,” a deep voice shouts over the loud engine.
My entire body freezes and I slowly turn around. Much to my horror, it’s him, it’s Wyatt, and he is pissed if the glower on his face is anything to go by.
“Wyatt…” I say, my voice trailing off.
He jumps out of the truck and stomps toward me. In the headlight’s glow, I can see that his hair is a mussed up mess, his clothes are wrinkled and askew and he’s wearing his boots with his jeans tucked into them.
“Don’t Wyatt me, what the fuck is wrong with you?” he shouts.
My body jerks, my eyes lifting to meet his angry gaze. He places his hands on his hips and I watch as he spits into the dirt next to his feet.
“No. I don’t want to know. You’re just going to say something fucked up,” he grunts.
“Excuse me?” I breathe.
He shakes his head, his eyes finding mine. “You snuck out of my bed. You’re walking around in the dead of night, alone, in the middle of fucking nowhere. So, I’m assuming you’ve got some fucked up shit happening inside of your head, because no woman with half a sense would be doing what you’re doin’ right now.”
“You’re a dick,” I point out.
He jerks his head. “Yeah,” he says, lifting his brows as if this isn’t anything new. “Get the fuck in the truck.”
I cross my arms over my chest. “No,” I say, stomping my foot a little for extra effect.
He shakes his head once. “Get the fuck in the truck. I’ll take you to your car, safely,” he orders.
Pressing my lips together, I bite the corner of my bottom lip and think about his offer. I really don’t want to walk, he’s right, it’s not really safe. Although I don’t know of anything nefarious happening in this little town, that doesn’t mean that it couldn’t, or hasn’t.
“Okay,” I whisper.
“Fucking great.”
Without another word, he turns and walks over to his side of the truck, jumping inside. He doesn’t help me in like he did just hours ago. I guess after he’s fucked you, all sense of gentleman chivalry goes out the window. Good to know.
Silently, he drives me toward my car. Once he’s in front of the bar, he pulls up to the back of my car, the only car left in the lot. He doesn’t say anything, he doesn’t even put his truck into park.
I climb out of the passenger side, looking up at his beautiful profile, trying to memorize it, because I know I’ll never have anything so clean and good again in my life.
“Bye,” I whisper.
He doesn’t speak. The only way I know he’s heard me is the sight of the tick in his cheek. Closing the truck door, I quietly walk over to my car and slide inside. I start the engine, and only when I’ve shifted my car into reverse does his truck leave the parking area.
His taillights disappear into the dark night and my entire body feels like my breath has been stolen. I’ve just lost the dream of what could have been, and that really sucks.
Chapter Three
WYATT
Work is what I need. Work will keep my mind off of all things Exeter. Yesterday was a fucking nightmare. I spent all fucking day in bed, smelling her scent on my sheets. I didn’t want her to walk away from me.
Stupidly, I thought that we would wake up in bed together, fuck again, then get some breakfast. Once again, my imagination and my desires got the better of me. I shouldn’t have thought of her as anything more than a fuck from the bar.
A one-night stand without the possibility for more. Honest to fuck, I don’t think that I’ll ever have more. I’ll never have what my cousin, Rylan, and his woman have.
I’ll never have a family.
My phone rings and I groan at the sight on the screen. It’s Mama. She always calls me when I’m on my way to work on Monday mornings. Rylan is waiting for me at his place, so I quickly answer.
“You haven’t been over to dinner lately,” she scolds as her greeting.
“Been busy, Mama,” I lie.
She hums, knowing my words are a complete fucking lie. “I want to meet Rylan’s woman, and see my nephew again, it’s been far too long.”
I think about taking them over to my parents for a family dinner and shake my head. They got enough shit on their plates without adding more.
Channing is pregnant, the baby daddy is a fucking prick who won’t stop hassling her, along with his bitch wife. Rylan is barely hanging on a thread. His fall from sobriety scared the shit out of me a couple of weeks ago, and I don’t think a cozy family dinner would help him at all.
“Soon,” I try to stall.
She gives me a disapproving hum of her own but thankfully doesn’t push me. “How about next Sunday? I’ll come on over,” I murmur.
The last thing I want to do is go over to my parents’. Not that I don’t love them, because I do. It’s just every time I go to their house it turns into a marriage intervention. They just want me to be happy, I know, but at this point, I doubt I’ll ever find someone of my own.
Pulling in front of Channing’s duplex, I honk once to signal to Rylan that I’m here. “Okay,” Mama sighs. “I’ll make your favorite, you best come,” she demands.
“Yes, ma’am, I will,” I agree. She ends the call with an, I love you, then Rylan’s door swings open and he jumps inside.
“What’s up your ass?” he asks as I shift the truck into drive.
I grunt, not willing to get into the conversation that would ensue if I told him about my Saturday night with Exeter. He’s had his own drama to deal with. His own issues with Channing, with his family, with his demons. I have no desire to bother him with my shit, too.
After the weeks away from home during the last hurricane, I needed to let off steam, I needed to do something and that’s how I came across her. I shouldn’t have taken her home. I shouldn’t have let her go.
“Since you won’t tell me, can we make a stop at Walmart on the way home?” he asks.
I let out a sigh, lifting one of my hands from the steering wheel and sliding my fingers through my hair.
“Yeah,” I grunt.
Rylan grins at me from the passenger seat. I don’t even have to face him head on to know that his smile is fucking blinding. I’m glad for it, he deserves all of the happiness on this earth. I just wish that I didn’t have to witness it quite so damn often.