Chapter 6
ETHAN
Istand on the porch long after her taillights disappear.
The night is quiet. Just crickets and the distant sound of the creek. My heart is still racing. My hands are still shaking.
I almost kissed her.
Would have kissed her if Luke hadn't called. If reality hadn't crashed back in at exactly the right moment. Or the wrong one. Hard to tell which.
I go inside and close the door. The cabin feels different now. She was here. Stood in this space. Put her hand on my chest and asked me questions I couldn't answer honestly without destroying everything.
My phone is on the table. The screen shows her last message. I'm home.
I should delete the thread. Delete her number. Cut off the temptation completely.
I don't.
Instead, I sit on the couch and drop my head into my hands. Sunday morning she'll be at the shop. I promised to help with the delivery. One more time. One more interaction before I leave.
It's a terrible idea.
I'm going anyway.
Sleep doesn't come easy. I lie in bed thinking about the way she looked at me. The challenge in her eyes when she asked if I wanted her to go. The heat of her palm against my chest.
The fact that I said no.
I should've said yes. Should've sent her home the moment she showed up. But I'm weak. Weaker than I thought.
By four thirty Sunday morning, I give up on sleep. I shower and dress and make coffee I don't drink. At four fifty, I'm in my truck heading toward town.
The streets are empty. Most of Hearts Bend is still asleep. The only light comes from Morning Star Donuts. I can see Callie moving around inside through the window.
I park in the alley and sit there for a minute. Trying to prepare myself. Trying to figure out what to say to her that won't make this worse.
Nothing comes to mind.
I get out and walk to the back door. It's unlocked. I push it open and step into the kitchen.
Callie is at the work station, boxing donuts. She looks up when I enter. Our eyes meet.
"Hi," she says.
"Hi."
The word hangs between us. Loaded with everything from Friday night. Everything we almost did. Everything we didn't say.
"Coffee's fresh," she tells me, nodding toward the pot.
"Thanks."
I pour a cup and lean against the counter. Watch her work. Her movements are efficient and practiced. Box, arrange, close, stack. She's done this a thousand times.
"How many are we loading?" I ask.
"Twenty-five dozen. Four trips should do it."
"Your car or my truck?"
"Your truck. More space."
I nod. Drink coffee. Try to think of something else to say that isn't what are we doing or I can't stop thinking about you or I'm sorry for everything.
"You didn't have to come," Callie says without looking at me.
"I said I would."
"You also said you were leaving."
"I am. Tonight."
"Right." She closes another box. Adds it to the stack. "Tonight."
The silence that follows is heavy. Uncomfortable. I hate it.
"Callie—"
"Don't." She finally looks at me. "Whatever you're about to say, just don't. Let's just load the truck and get through this. Okay?"
"Okay."
We work without speaking. I carry boxes to the truck while she keeps packing. The work is physical and mindless. Exactly what I need.
By the time we're halfway done, the sun is starting to rise. The sky turns pink and orange. Birds start their morning noise.
"That's the last from this batch," Callie says, wiping her hands on her apron. "I need to start the next round. Can you keep loading?"
"Yeah."
She disappears into the kitchen. I hear the fryer kick on. The radio playing something low and twangy.
I load the remaining boxes into the truck bed. Arrange them carefully so nothing shifts during transport. The work gives me something to focus on besides the knot in my chest.
I'm securing the last stack when I hear footsteps.
"Starting early," a familiar voice says.
I turn. Luke is walking toward me, coffee cup in hand.
My stomach drops.
"What are you doing here?" I ask.
"Came to help. Figured three pairs of hands are better than two." He glances at the truck. "Looks like you've got it covered though."
"Almost done. Just waiting on the last batch."
Luke leans against the truck and studies me. "You sleep at all?"
"Some."
"Liar." He grins. "You look worse than yesterday."
"Thanks."
"I'm just saying. Maybe this Denver thing is good timing. You could use a break."
I don't respond. Can't explain that leaving isn't going to give me any kind of break. That three weeks away from Callie isn't going to change how I feel.
"You talk to her?" Luke asks.
I freeze. "Who?"
"Callie. About her slowing down and taking better care of herself."
Relief hits so hard I almost sag. He's not asking about Friday night. Doesn't know she showed up at my cabin. Doesn't know anything.
"I mentioned it," I say carefully.
"Good. Maybe she'll listen to you. She sure as hell won't listen to me." He takes a sip of coffee. "Speaking of which. How'd she seem to you? The last few days?"
"What do you mean?"
"I don't know. Off. Like something's bothering her but she won't talk about it."
Everything's bothering her. Her brother's best friend won't stop pulling away. Won't stop choosing loyalty over what they both want. Won't stop being a coward.
"She seemed fine to me," I lie.
"Yeah. Maybe I'm imagining it." Luke pushes off the truck. "I'm gonna go say hi. See if she needs anything."
He disappears into the shop before I can stop him.
I stand there in the alley with the sunrise painting the sky and the weight of Luke's trust crushing my chest. He has no idea. No clue what's happening between his sister and his best friend.
Because we're lying to him. Sneaking around. Doing exactly what I said we couldn't do.
The back door opens. Callie emerges with another box of donuts. She stops when she sees me.
"Luke's inside," I tell her.
Her expression doesn't change. "I know. He came to help."
"Did you know he was coming?"
"No."
We look at each other. The question neither of us is asking sits between us. Does he know? Did someone see? Are we caught?
"He doesn't know anything," Callie says quietly. "He's just being Luke."
I nod. Take the box from her hands. Our fingers don't touch.
Luke comes out carrying two more boxes. "Got the last of them. Where do these go?"
"Front seat," I tell him.
He loads them in and brushes off his hands. "Alright. What else?"
"That's everything," Callie says. "Thanks for helping."
"No problem. I've got about twenty minutes before I need to head to the parade staging. Where do these go after the VFW?"
"Nowhere," I tell him. "Just the VFW."
"You sure? I can stick around if you need extra hands."
"We're good."
Luke looks between us. Something shifts in his expression. Like he's picking up on the tension even if he can't identify the source.
"Everything okay with you two?" he asks.
"Fine," Callie and I say at the same time.
Luke's eyes narrow slightly. "You sure? Because you both seem weird."
"Long morning," Callie says. "I've been up since three."
"And I'm leaving tonight," I add. "Still need to pack."
Luke nods slowly. Still not entirely convinced. "Alright. Well, I'll let you get to it. Call me if anything comes up."
He claps me on the shoulder. Gives Callie a quick hug. Walks back to his truck and drives away.
The silence after he leaves is deafening.
"That was close," Callie finally says.
"Too close."
"He didn't suspect anything."
"This time. But eventually he will. We're terrible at this."
"At what? We're not doing anything."
"Exactly." I turn to face her fully. "We're not doing anything. And we're still lying to him. Still sneaking around. Still one wrong look away from him figuring it out."
"So what? You want to tell him?"
"No. I want—" I stop. Run a hand through my hair. "I don't know what I want."
"Yes, you do. You want me to make this easy. Want me to agree that leaving is the right choice. That distance is the answer." She takes a step closer. "But I'm not going to do that."
"Callie."
"You can run to Denver. Can put hundreds of miles between us. But it's not going to change anything."
"It might."
"You don't believe that any more than I do."
She's right. I don't believe it. But I'm out of other options.
"I need to go," I tell her. "Finish packing."
"Fine. Go."
I start toward my truck. Stop with my hand on the door.
"The delivery," I say without turning around. "You sure you can handle it alone?"
"I've been handling things alone for a long time."
The words land like an accusation. Maybe that's how she meant them.
I get in the truck and drive away. Don't look back. Can't look back.
The cabin feels empty when I arrive. I spend the next few hours packing. Clothes, laptop, work files. Everything I need for three weeks in Denver.
By noon, I'm done. The truck is loaded. The cabin is locked up. Nothing left to do except leave.
My phone buzzes.
Luke: Safe travels, man. Call when you get there.
Me: Will do.
Luke: And Ethan? Whatever's going on with you and Callie, you need to figure it out.
I stare at the message. Read it three times.
He knows. Somehow, despite everything, Luke knows.
Me: Nothing's going on.
Luke: Right and I'm the Easter Bunny. I'm not blind. I've seen the way you look at her.
My chest tightens. This is it. The conversation I've been dreading.
Me: Luke…
Luke: I'm not mad. Just tell me the truth. Do you have feelings for my sister?
I could lie. Could deny everything and drive to Denver and hope this blows over.
I can't do it.
Me: Yes.
The response takes less than a minute.
Luke: Does she know?
Me: Yes.
Luke: And?
Me: And nothing. That's why I'm leaving. Because nothing can happen.
The dots appear and disappear. Appear again. Stay for a long time.
Luke: Meet me at Miller's before you leave. We need to talk.
I close my eyes. This is exactly what I was trying to avoid. But there's no getting out of it now.
Me: When?
Luke: Now.
I drive back to town with my stomach in knots. Miller's Diner is mostly empty. Sunday afternoon lull. Luke is in the same booth we sat in for breakfast a few days ago.
I slide into the seat across from him.
"Thanks for coming," he says.
"Did I have a choice?"
"Not really."
We sit in silence for a moment. The waitress comes by. We both order coffee. Don't look at the menu.
When she's gone, Luke leans forward.
"How long?" he asks.
"How long what?"
"How long have you had feelings for Callie?"
I don't see the point in lying now. "A while."
"Define a while."
"Six months. Maybe longer."
Luke's jaw tightens. "Six months. You've been dealing with this for six months and didn't say anything."
"What was I supposed to say? Hey Luke, I want your sister. Is that cool with you?"
"It would've been better than sneaking around."
"We're not sneaking around. Nothing's happened."
"But you want it to."
I don't answer. Don't need to.
Luke sits back and runs a hand over his face. "Christ, Ethan. Why didn't you just talk to me?"
"Because you're my best friend. Because I knew it would complicate things. Because—" I stop.
"Because what?"
"Because I didn't want to choose between you and her."
The honesty of it hangs between us. Luke is quiet for a long moment.
"You think you'd have to choose," he finally says.
"Don't I?"
"I don't know. Do you?"
I study his face. Looking for anger. Betrayal. Some sign that I've destroyed our friendship.
Instead, I see something I wasn't expecting.
Understanding.
"Ethan," Luke says carefully. "I trust you. With my life. With Callie's life. With everything that matters to me. You know that, right?"
"I know."
"So why would you think I'd have a problem with you being interested in my sister?"
The question catches me off guard. "Because she's your sister."
"And you're my best friend. The only guy I know who's actually good enough for her." He pauses. "I meant what I said at breakfast. If I could pick someone for Callie, it'd be you."
I can't process this. Can't reconcile what he's saying with everything I've convinced myself is true.
"Luke—"
"I'm not saying it won't be weird. It will. But I'm also not saying no. I'm saying talk to her. Figure out what you both want. And stop torturing yourself over what I might think."
The waitress brings our coffee. We both doctor it in silence.
"I'm still going to Denver," I say finally.
"Why?"
"Because I need to think. Need space to figure this out without her three blocks away."
"Running away isn't going to solve anything."
"I know. But it might help me see things clearer."
Luke doesn't look convinced. "Fine. Go to Denver. Clear your head. But when you come back, you need to make a choice. Either you want her or you don't. But you can't keep doing this halfway thing. It's not fair to either of you."
He's right. I know he's right.
But knowing doesn't make the choice any easier.
We finish our coffee. Luke pays again despite my protest. We walk out to the parking lot together.
"Drive safe," he says. "And Ethan? For what it's worth, I'm not mad. I'm glad you told me."
"Even though I've been lying for months?"
"You weren't lying. You were protecting everyone. Including yourself." He claps me on the shoulder. "But you can't protect people from feelings, man. They don't work that way."
I watch him drive away. Then I get in my truck and point it toward the highway. Toward Denver. Toward three weeks of space and distance and time to think.
The drive takes twelve hours. I stop once for gas and food I don't taste. The rest of the time, I just drive and think and try to figure out what the hell I'm doing.
Luke gave me permission. He actually gave me his blessing to pursue Callie, the one thing I've been using as an excuse is gone.
Now I have to figure out what I actually want. And whether I'm brave enough to go after it.
By the time I reach Denver, it's past midnight. I check into the hotel and collapse on the bed without unpacking.
My phone shows three missed calls. Two from work. One from Emma.
Nothing from Callie.
I stare at her name in my contacts. My thumb hovers over the call button.
I don't press it.
Instead, I set the phone on the nightstand and close my eyes. Tomorrow I'll start the job. Focus on work. Create the distance I convinced myself I needed.
Tonight I let myself admit the truth.
I don't want distance.
I want her.
And I just spent twelve hours driving in the wrong direction.