Chapter 31
I’m okay. Stop emailing me. I’ll explain when we talk.
This comes in from Brynn the next morning, and I read it over, over, and over again.
She’s okay. She’s. Okay.
Anne approaches. “What the hell is going on with you?” she demands.
“Nothing.”
She narrows her pierced brows. “Oh, really? Then why, I ask, have you gone from sucking lips behind a soundboard to openly ignoring West?”
“Who said I’m ignoring West?”
“You’re something else.” Anne throws her hands up. “Now you’re going to deny it?”
I turn away, grab a cable, and start coiling it, more to give my hands something to do than anything else.
“I asked West what was going on,” she says.
My hands still. Oh, no, did he tell her what he saw? What he felt?
She points at me. “Aha! You don’t like that I talked to him, do you?”
“I don’t care if you talked to him.” I go back to coiling and ignore the pain wrenching around within me.
“I call bullshit.”
I shoot her a look, wanting more than anything to know what he said.
Anne plants her hands on her hips. “Did that bastard try something?”
“No!” Oh my God, I don’t want anybody to think that.
“Do you want to know what he said when I asked him what was going on?”
I pick up another cable, pretending an indifference I do not feel.
“He said you guys had a little disagreement about something personal, and that was it.”
“That’s…that’s right. I told West I need some time. Now you can be a good friend and accept that, or not. Either way, it’s what I’ve decided. This is about me, not him.” Just admitting that makes me feel weary.
Anne gives me a very long look. “All right. I’m always on your side.
But know that West is hurt. I can tell. Whatever happened is about him, too.
” She points a finger at me. “I swear to God, if you disappear on me, I will hunt your ass down and kick it across whatever state I find you in. Got it? And I mean that with every ounce of love in my cynical heart.”
I chuckle, despite the whole situation. Anne knows me too well.
“Got it?” she repeats.
“Yes, got it.”
Whatever happened is about him, too. Anne’s words are all I think about for the next hour as I work with Ford soldering connectors.
“All good?” he asks, and I nod. “All right, I’ll be at the soundboard if you need me.” With that, he heads off.
I triple-check my work, not wanting another frayed wire, before I put one connector down and start on another.
“You slacking around this place?”
I jump and almost burn myself with the soldering iron.
West cringes. “Sorry.”
“Th-that’s okay.” I consider making an excuse and getting out of here, but that’s idiotic of me. This conversation’s inevitable.
“How are you?” His voice works its way through me, warming me, waking me.
I start to get up, and he immediately moves, kneeling in front of me. “I missed you on our big bus.”
I go back to soldering, noting my hands are now shaking.
He reaches out to hold one of the wires, and I concentrate all my energy on not burning him. The scent of melted copper wafts around us.
“Can we talk now?” He picks up a new wire and hands it to me.
I take a breath. “I think you and I should cool things. Okay?”
“I…see.”
We stay that way—him kneeling in front of me, holding a wire while I solder it to a new connector.
Awkwardness floats in the air between us, and I just don’t know what to do. As usual, the wrong thing comes out. “I can do this by myself.”
He lets go of the wire and drops his head in frustration, disappointment, and probably a million other things. “Why are you shutting me out?”
“I’m not, okay?” Although I am.
“No, it’s not okay.” He shoves to his feet. “What the hell is wrong with you? Why won’t you just talk to me?”
I clench my jaw against the tears pushing at me from within.
“Is it about your back? I don’t care. Do you hear me?”
Sucking in a breath, I cover my face with my hands so I don’t have to look at his pain.
“I don’t care,” he repeats. “Just talk to me.”
His voice, his words, they pull at me, but I shake my head and groan. “Just go away.”
“Fuck,” he hisses, and I wince. “I don’t need this shit.” With that, he walks away, and something deep inside of me aches with each step he takes.
He’s doing what I asked, but way down deep, I wish he would’ve just pulled me into his arms and insisted everything’s going to be okay.