Balance (Oakley’s Crew #2)

15. Cane

15

CANE

H e’s nervous. And I find it cute as hell.

Of course, I’m feeling it too. But for some reason, his nervousness made me realize just how right this is. I didn’t want to wait for months until I thought it might be appropriate to date after my breakup.

I probably should have. I know that’s the rule of society, but fuck society—they’ve gotten it wrong so many damn times.

I want to be happy. I wasn’t happy before. I was pretending to be things I wasn’t. I was forcing myself into a role I didn’t want. It wasn’t fair to Evie, and I have to believe she’s going to find the right person for her too. That she’ll be okay, but I can’t put my happiness on pause because I feel guilty.

I can’t help that Archie came back into my life at exactly the right moment. I can’t fight fate—and this truly does feel like fate.

I chuckle at my thoughts because I was never one to believe in fate or soulmates or anything corny like that. But sitting in Archie’s truck, my hand having slid over to entwine our fingers, resting on his strong thigh—I can’t help but feel this was how it was supposed to be.

I feel light and carefree, catching him glancing at me with confusion. “What’s so funny?”

“This,” I say, looking down at our fingers, his hand matching mine in size and making my heart nearly leap into my throat with giddiness. “It just feels good.”

I watch the grin overtake his face as he looks back out through the windshield and shake his head. “Damn, I am good if you look this blissed-out just from holding my hand.”

I snort, but don’t argue, though I don’t think I should inflate his ego too much. “So let me guess... when we get to this thing, every person there will know you and have to come over and say hi.”

He kind of shrinks back a little at that, looking worried. “Would that be a bad thing? Not exactly keeping this thing low-key, huh?”

I grin, knowing I nailed it. I probably should be panicking at the thought, but I’m not. Like I said, I’m all-in. “I told you I don’t want to hide. I had a feeling you were the type the whole town knows and loves.”

He laughs dismissively at that. “Yeah. Sure. Everyone loves the clown.”

I frown now as he looks for a parking spot near downtown, which appears to be a feat since there are cars everywhere. “What do you mean clown?”

“You know what I mean. I’m good at making things fun. The guy with the jokes who never takes anything seriously, so of course, no one else takes them seriously either.”

He’s trying to play it off, but I can hear how much it bothers him. He parks his truck, but I reach for his arm before he can escape the cab. “Archie, look at me.”

He seems like he might refuse at first but releases a deep breath, and finally, his green eyes meet mine. The sun is starting to set, but I can still see him clearly enough to sense his vulnerability. “You do make people laugh, and yes, that’s one thing I really like about you, but not because I think you’re a clown or not a serious human. You’re so much more than that.”

“You barely know me,” he says softly.

I brush my hand over his cheek, my heart squeezing tight because I know without a doubt I’m right. Some people may just see a strong, good-looking guy who plays everything off. But I see something different. I see a vulnerable guy who was hurt during some part of his life enough to scar him. Someone told him he wasn’t good enough, and it makes me so angry, I have to fight to not clench my fists. “I do though.” I lean in and brush my lips over his. “I could feel it that first night.”

“Feel what?”

I smile against his lips. “I was in a terrible mood. Hating life. Hating what I had let it become. Feeling restless and uneasy, like it would never be okay. And you, Archie...” I pull back enough to look into his eyes and make sure he can feel every word I’m saying. “You made me feel.” I place one hand on his cheek and the other over his heart. “You didn’t know me at all, but still somehow you spoke to me, and you made me feel like it was all going to be okay.”

“And then you left the next morning.” He’s not joking. He’s not laughing and trying to pass off his hurt, and even though I can feel how upset it made him—and yes, I hate that part—it makes me smile because it’s real. He’s letting me see this real part of him.

“I’m sorry I did.”

He bites on his bottom lip nervously, and I know this is difficult for him. “You made me feel things I’d never felt before. I broke so many rules for you that night.” He does laugh now, but it’s kind of sad and uncomfortable, and very, very real. “And then you went and ditched me.”

“I’m sorry,” I say truthfully. “I shouldn’t have left.”

“Why did you?” he asks softly.

I think about it for a moment, knowing I owe him a real explanation. I’m still facing him, but I allow my hand to rest on his thigh as I look into his eyes, happy as hell he wants to have this conversation, even if it’s technically only our first date and pretty uncomfortable. “I knew you were special. I don’t know how I knew it or how to explain it.” His expression is tight, and I can see him squirming slightly, ready to argue, so I continue, “But I knew you were. I thought—I knew...”—I lock eyes with him—“it would have made me question everything if I stayed.”

“Everything?” He sounds confused.

“Yes. Everything. I’d been with a few people in-between Evie. Both men and women. And they were great, but I never wanted to stay. I never craved more of them.” I watch his throat flex with a hard swallow.

“But with me?”

I smile. “It was different. I don’t even know how to explain it. I used to think I’d break up with Evie, and it would be inevitable. Then I’d go back to her because she felt safe, but you...”

He’s watching me so intensely now, like he needs these words desperately. “You felt safe with me?” He seems unsure, and it only makes me smile even broader, even as I shake my head in disagreement.

“You felt dangerous as hell.”

He looks shocked now, his eyes going wide, “Wha?—?”

I cut him off with a quick kiss to his lips, barely pulling back enough to speak. “You scared the hell out of me because I knew you weren’t the safe option. You were going to change my life in the best way, and that terrified me.”

He blinks as I pull back, then blinks again. “Oh.”

It’s a heavy feeling in the truck now, tension and reality dripping from everything that’s been said. But I sit quietly and let Archie process what he needs to.

“Let’s go dance,” he finally says, and I just grin like a fool, nodding my head as we climb out of the truck and walk hand in hand to Main Street. The street itself is blocked off with cones and police tape, allowing a safe spot for the band and people to dance.

I recognize a few members of Oakley’s Crew as we head toward them and some other members I assume I haven’t met yet. They seem like a big ole family though, greeting Archie with big hugs and slaps on the shoulder. He introduces me—carefully—as his friend, and I can’t tell you how much I hate that, even though I appreciate it too.

No doubt, even with the rivalry between Hayes and Larnard, there’ll be plenty of people from my hometown here.

Walker introduces me to Dutton, who won’t stop grinning at me as if he knows a secret—and I suppose he does know about us. I’m completely fine with that fact, and he seems to really care about Archie.

“City boy, you got kale in that beer?” Archie asks, standing next to me and across from Walker and Dutton. Walker has his arm around his man, leaning into him and chuckling as he takes a swig of the beer in his hand.

“You know it. You want some?” Dutton holds out his beer to Archie, who scrunches up his nose.

“Pass.”

“City boy?” I have to ask.

Dutton rolls his eyes, but he’s still bright and smiling—seemingly content. “I’m not from around here. California, apparently, is a whole other world.”

I laugh, and Archie looks at me. “Total city boy. How he got involved with my mud- and boots-loving best friend, I’ll never understand.”

“Easy.” Dutton shrugs. “He’s fantastic in bed.”

I can’t believe he’s talking about this out where anyone could hear, and I know it’s because of the small town I was raised in—but this is a small town we’re in right fucking now. No one bats an eye except Oakley—their boss, who quickly interjects with a hearty laugh. “No way that’s true.” He has a lazy smile on his face and his own man at his side. It’s kind of surreal to see so many men paired up like this. Just out in the open, leaning on each other and laughing with glee.

They all start to joke about who’s better in bed and why, but I’m kind of stuck in shock of it all.

Maybe I’ve never noticed it before, but I can’t remember seeing it before in small towns like ours. These big, burly out-and-proud men. No hate being spewed. No fear. It’s a beautiful thing, and it swells my heart as I look around. Sure, there are plenty of heterosexual-presenting couples around—but several of them come over to chat with Oakley’s Crew, and I was right about Archie being the life of the party. Several people have stopped by to chat with him and meet his friend.

It makes me bristle every single time he introduces me that way, and I know it’s not fair, but it is what it is.

“Let’s dance,” I blurt out after we stand around for a good hour, drinking beer and just chatting away with different people—total strangers who seem to be his family, so they don’t seem like strangers at all to me.

“Uhhh...” Archie looks nervously toward the crowded street where plenty of people are swaying to the music, including Walker and Dutton, who are holding each other close.

“Come on,” I say, taking his hand and leading him toward the crowd. I know he’s worried for me, but right now, I just want to be able to dance with the man I’m quickly becoming crazy about without a care in the world.

He tries to keep his distance, but that just won’t do. “Hold me,” I say softly and scoot close to him, smiling when his big arms finally envelope my body, and I just lean into him, breathing him in and swaying to the music.

He doesn’t feel safe, I wasn’t lying about that. He feels like the best kind of risk—one who will shake up my world and wake me up from floating aimlessly through life and never really, truly enjoying it.

He feels like hope.