29. Beau
29
Beau
W ell, I broke my fucking hand. The question is, does it hurt more than seeing her in my brother’s apartment? If she’d been doing anything else, I swear. But she just had to be sitting there reading, looking exactly like she used to in my living room. I don’t know if you’d call it deja vu or just a painful memory, but it tore me up.
Did I look idiotic standing in Shep’s foyer? Probably, but as long as I didn’t come off as angry, that’s all that matters. I don’t need Tessa to think I’m upset over them living together. She decides to move across the country and start sleeping with my brother? I certainly won’t give her the upper hand of thinking I care. Taking a page from Shep’s book, I hid everything I was feeling but it was fucking hard to do while working all this out in my head as she stared at me.
God, she looked good. I’ve gone over the image of her in her baggy t-shirt and biker shorts a million times since storming out. No matter how pissed I am, I can’t deny that she looks even better than she did in Pelahatchie. She was practically glowing. I guess Houston suits her. Her hair was cut shorter and I wanted to tell her I liked the change, but then it hit me why she was there.
I honestly don’t remember much of the conversation, my heart was pounding too loud in my ears. But the one thing that sticks out was her saying, “we’re just friends.” Yeah, sure. He probably waited all of five seconds before he moved in on her. More than anything Tessa could have done, it’s Shep who deserves every ounce of my anger and it’s off the Richter Scale. I’m scaring myself with the force of it.
When I left, I kept hoping to meet him in the hallway or out on the street because at least my fist would have found the right target. Instead, I punched the side of the brick apartment building like a moron. How I’m going to explain this to Dad, I have no idea, but I’ll worry about that when I get home. That and seeing a doctor.
Back at the hotel, the room is thankfully quiet. Peyton and Mom must have gone off to do something until Shep was finished with practice. We were all going to surprise him for his first game with the Tornadoes. Well, everyone except Dad. He said he couldn’t leave the business with anyone who wasn’t a McAbee. He and Shep have an odd relationship, I don’t pretend to understand it. I’m sure part of it has to do with Shep leaving to play ball when my father wanted an heir to the orchards, but those two don’t discuss uncomfortable topics and I’ve never had the guts to ask Dad about it.
Looks like I won’t be staying for the game either. I’m not about to sit in the stands with a happy smile on my face when the two people I love most betrayed me. Shep has had months to tell me and nothing. I thought he was just busy with the season starting up, but now I understand why he’s been dodging my calls and not texting me back. Just the thought of what he’s been doing instead has me contemplating breaking my other hand.
I start gathering my things and throwing shit into my duffle bag, not caring about packing. I want to get the fuck out of here and back to Pelahatchie where I never have to see either of them again. Grabbing a pen and a pad from the dresser, I try to write my mom a note telling her where I’m going, but my busted knuckles aren’t doing me any favors. I’ll have to text Peyton instead. I’m typing and getting ready to walk out the door when Shep comes through calling my name.
He stands in the short hallway, holding on to the door as if he needs something to ground him against my assault.
“Can you just wait a minute?” he pleads. “Let me explain. I–”
I interrupt him by crossing the room and shoving him up against the wall. “You son of a bitch,” I growl.
Shep’s got a couple inches on me, but I’m broader and it's not hard to press him back with my forearm to his throat. He doesn’t struggle. He looks at me evenly, more resigned than upset.
“I’m sorry. Get out of my face and I’ll tell you everything,” he says calmly.
I press him back harder and slam my hand against the wall beside his head before releasing him and walking away with a frustrated groan. Crossing my arms, I stare out the windows. I’d rather look anywhere than at him.
“You come here to apologize for stealing my girl? Because if that’s it, get the fuck out. I don’t want to hear it.”
“I didn’t steal her, I swear. When she got here, I didn’t lay a finger on her. I didn’t even know the whole story until recently.”
“Yeah, sure. You expect me to believe that when she’s living with you? I knew how you felt about her after the fair,” I sneer.
“I expect you to believe it because it’s true.”
I whirl around to find him casually leaning against the wall near the closet. “How would I know? You haven’t exactly been the most forthright person lately.” I take a seat on the bed and put my head in my hands. “How long? How long has she been at your apartment?”
“Six months.”
“Since she got here?” I say in disbelief. “Come on, Shep.”
This time, he interrupts me. “I wasn’t going to leave her to fend for herself. You don’t know anything.”
“Then you better start fucking talking.”
He holds his palms up. “I saw her randomly a few days after she got to Houston. She didn’t even tell me you had broken up.” I scoff but he ignores it. “I went with her to look at apartments and the place she took me to was a dump, to put it kindly. You wouldn’t have wanted her to stay there.”
“I didn’t want her to leave!” I shout.
“I get that now. Shut up for a second and just listen, would you?”
“Watch your mouth, I’m pissed enough as it is.”
“I told her to come stay with me, just for a little while, and she broke down and told me about leaving. She needed someone, Beau. She was losing it. It was the right thing to do.”
I stay silent, thinking over what he’s saying. Shep wouldn’t have been able to leave her there if it was as bad as he said. He’s too protective. And if I’m honest with myself, I’m glad she had someone. That she wasn’t alone. The thought of her with anyone else makes me sick to my stomach, but Shep? He’s the only other person I’d trust with my life…and her happiness. If they’d just told me outright, maybe I could forgive him after a while, but this way, I’ve been lied to for the last six months. Seeing the sorry look in Shep’s eyes does nothing to diffuse the anger coursing through my veins.
“Why did you hide it?”
“I don’t know,” he sighs.
“I swear to God, you better do better than that.”
He huffs and says, “I don’t know. At first it felt cruel to call and tell you she was staying here when it was only going to be a temporary thing. When she got comfortable, it never felt like the right time. I wanted to tell you, but I knew what you would think.” He raises his eyebrows knowingly.
“You’re telling me it has nothing to do with you wanting her for yourself? It never crossed your mind that she might…” I can’t even bring myself to say it. Shep keeps quiet and presses his lips firmly together, letting me know I’m on the right track. “You promised!” I shout, standing and shoving him roughly. “Did that end as soon as she was out of town, when she was suddenly within reach?”
He doesn’t move to stop me, just grits his teeth and says, “It wasn’t like that. Would you stop acting like I’m some evil villain? You know me! I’m sorry I never found the right words to tell you, but I will say this one last time. We aren’t together, nor will we be. Okay?” It’s his turn to shove me away from him and I stumble.
He pauses but still wears the remorseful look. My heart rate skyrockets. “What is it?”
“We slept together.” At the stricken look on my face, he takes a step towards me. “Hold it together, would you? She let me know real quick all she wanted was you.”
“You slept with her?” I whisper.
“You’re missing the goddamn point! She doesn’t want me, little brother. We’re just friends, like we’ve always been. It wouldn’t matter what I did, all she sees is you.”
There’s pain in his eyes. I see it and I’ve been there. Hell, I am there. His distress is the only thing keeping me from throwing myself at him and pummeling him until I feel better. We could go around and around, but this day has been too much and I still have to get on a plane. He may be right. Maybe she’s still too much in love with me to consider him, but it wasn’t enough to bring her home. And it wasn’t enough to stop them from ending up in bed together. Maybe they deserve each other.
“Have a good game tomorrow,” I tell him flatly, picking up my duffle and heading towards the door.
Shep turns towards me on my way out. “You’re not staying?”
“Would you stay?” The venom in my voice surges again. “Would you be able to make nice and pretend your heart wasn’t being ripped out of your chest for the second time?” He doesn’t answer. Wearily, I nod my head and open the door. “Yeah, didn’t think so.”
One week later:
“It’s a generous offer,” Peyton says from beside me. She stands with her arms crossed just inside the doors of the demoed building. It’s been a week since Shep’s first official game as a Tornado. A game I never in a million years thought I would miss. More than enough time for me to feel bad about that, but not nearly long enough to forget what happened in the hotel room. Peyton jars me with her voice. “I doubt you’ll get a better one.”
“That’s good, because I’m not looking for a better one. I’ll take it.”
When she sighs in frustration, I turn and walk farther into the space. I’m tired of her not understanding. She doesn’t get it, but no one seems to. I wasn’t ready to let it go, but what’s the point now? She’s right, I’m not going to get a better offer.
When I first bought this place, it was an old hardware store. There were shelves to tear down and broken light fixtures everywhere, holes in the walls and plumbing issues, but I bought it with an idea in mind. More importantly, I needed something to do with my hands once Tess left. It’s been sitting empty for years, taking up room on Magnolia Street, but I could see it’s potential. I’ve taken to fixing it up here and there when I have time, but it’s been six months since I bought it and I’ve just now gotten it down to the studs. There’s no rush to finish and I like the clean slate that it is, but others must too because I get offers every now and then for someone to take it off my hands.
“Why sell it now?” Peyton runs her hands up and down the sleeves of her puffy jacket.
Rolling my eyes over to her, I say with a huff, “You know why.”
Grace Renault, the owner of Carriage House Coffee next door, has made me an offer twice, each time upping her price, but I couldn’t do it. It gave me something to work on when I was sleepless and drowning in anger. I’m by no means the financial wizard my twin sister is, so I let her do her thing and handle all the McAbee holdings, but that inevitably means I have to have these conversations with her every few months. She’s agreed to me keeping it each time, but now that I’m ready to sell, she’s putting her foot down.
The large room is bare and open. Cold in the early spring, but I was going to change that. I was going to leave the old, exposed brick walls and only put drywall where I had to. I would have brought the shelves back in, or hell, made new ones, but I could see them lining the walls. The ceilings are so high that, at first, it was a little overwhelming. But then I came up with the idea to add a loft, with a big staircase running up the right-hand wall.
It’s perfect, for the right person. But I guess it doesn’t matter now.
“If you tell me what you wanted to do with it, I could probably deter potential buyers for a while. I could easily get Grace off your back.”
“I don’t know what I want to do with it,” I lie, tucking away the vision in my head. “It was a dumb idea to buy it. Just draw up the paperwork.”
“Why are you being so difficult?” She huffs. Peyton comes back to my side and looks around the space like she’s trying to see it through my eyes. “It would make a good restaurant, but I can’t see you wanting to own a cafe.”
“I don’t.”
“Okay,” she says slowly, thinking. “Apartments? Pelahatchie sure could use them and I bet you could fit two, maybe even three, in here.”
“No apartments. Just the one that’s already upstairs.”
She sighs and then walks to the middle of the room, looking up at the high windows on the back wall. “Well then, your only other option looks like a bookstore.” My sister has this habit of getting you right where she wants you without anyone being the wiser. This gift of hers is great for business because it’s annoyingly accurate, but in my life, it’s been nothing but a headache. Leave it to her and her uncanny, twin telepathy to know exactly what I was thinking when I bought the place.
“That could work. Yeah.”
Her hands go to her hips and she looks down at the dusty floor. “You’re such a sap, you know that? God help you if she ever comes back.” I don’t bother to answer. I pull out the keys to the building and open the door for us to leave, but when she walks my way, she knocks the brim of my hat as she passes. “I’m telling Grace we’re not interested in selling. We’ll hang on to it for a little longer.”
It’s no use arguing with her when she gets like this. “Fine,” I say, but there’s the smallest glimmer of relief that I don’t have to give up another piece of her.