Chapter 39 Thirty-Eight
Thirty-Eight
Wyatt
Me
Quinn, please call me.
We need to start season four—they brought in Frozen!
Quinn, we need to talk. Please answer me.
I’m gonna murder your trainer. He’s being an ass to Hook.
Quinn…
I’m sorry. I can’t explain if you don’t let me. Please call me.
I love you.
Three weeks.
It had been three weeks since Quinn left me at that rodeo. Three long weeks since I had to catch a flight home and beg Cash to come pick me up at two in the morning. Three fucking weeks of absolute misery.
And the worst part—I saw her every day.
She’d come to train. She’d come to ride. She’d come to spend time with Abi and Kyla.
And even though I was right in front of her the entire time, she wouldn’t even look at me. Or if she did, it was as if she saw through me. Like I wasn’t even there.
It was so fucking hard to try to smile. Try to be…normal.
The only good news I had gotten this week was that—yay, please note sarcasm—my name was picked for a few rodeos.
Four rodeos contacted me since Montana. And each time my phone buzzed in my pocket, I prayed it was Quinn, only to have my heart fall when it wasn’t her.
I, of course, put on a happy voice, agreed to the jobs, and travel with my friends—and that’s exactly how I found myself standing in the middle of my bunkhouse apartment, surrounded by every pair of boots I owned.
I had my hands on my hips, each pair staring me down as if to call me out. They were just screaming at me that I was the idiot here, that I was the one who fucked things up, and now I had to live with it. Live without her.
I just wished she would talk to me. I just wanted to hear her voice and see her smile. I just wanted her.
“God dammit,” I glowered, heaving a sigh and kicking a boot over. It landed with a soft thump.
The doorknob to the bunkhouse rattled, opening seconds later to let in the crisp fall air.
Abi stepped over the threshold, followed quickly by Stetson, both carrying baskets of eggs.
Abi gave me a quick smile before she began to make herself at home in the kitchen.
She filled the fridge with the eggs from the coop and let out a soft groan when she saw the last batch she had put there untouched.
“I hope we’re going to make omelets soon,” she muttered under her breath, yet still loud enough for me to hear.
“Hey Uncle Wy—whoa.” Stetson stopped in his tracks, his eyes going wide as he took in the sight of my living room.
“Hey, bud,” I responded, folding my arms over my chest before turning back to the boots.
Okay, his reaction was valid. It was more than my boots. It was also my hats, and every button-down shirt I owned. But only the boots were screaming at me.
“What…are you doing?” Abi asked, coming up behind me.
I looked down at my baby sister. “Packing.”
“For?”
“I got jobs,” I replied duly.
“Like rodeo jobs!?” Stetson called as he plopped on the sofa.
I gave him a soft smile. “Yeah, bud. Rodeo jobs.”
“And that requires your entire closet to be out in the living room…why?” Abi trailed off, tilting her head as she looked over at me.
I scrunched my nose. I didn’t even like the detail I was about to give her.
But—and I hate this saying, too—it is what it is.
“Well, I’ll be gone for a bit, traveling with Sam and Hawk since they are in the same cities half the time.
So”—I waved my hand over the clothes—“I wanted to see all my options.”
Abi raised an eyebrow. “See your options? By laying them all out on your floor?”
I shrugged. “It’s something Quinn does.”
She raised her head, her eyes never leaving me. “Ah, that makes sense.”
“What makes sense?”
“Nothing.” She used her hip to bump mine. “When do you leave?”
“Friday. I’ll be back in November.”
“November?” Her voice rose in stunned question.
“You’ll miss Halloween?” Stetson asked, his brow furrowing.
I nodded. “Yeah, sorry, bud. I mean, what’s the point of staying here? I have committees wanting me, I need to get back there, and this is the way to do it.”
“What’s the point of staying here?” Abi repeated.
I met her gaze and waited. And waited…and waited.
“You can say it.” I groaned, dropping my arms and bending to pick up the first pair of boots I saw. Snakeskin, not good for a rodeo. I tossed them behind the couch, hearing them hit the wood floor with a loud bang. “I know you want to.”
“There are a lot of points in staying here. You’re just being an idiot.”
“I know.”
“At least you can admit it.”
I heaved a sigh. “I’m assuming she told you everything,” I asked, toneless, vapid…drained.
She gave me a soft nod. “I was just waiting for you to come tell me everything.” She folded her arms.
I knew why I didn’t—and even looking at her now, I stuck by it.
Abi was my catch-all. She was there no matter what, just like I am for her.
She’s seen me at my worst, I’ve seen her at her lowest, but we are always there for one another.
I knew if I went to her and cried on her shoulder instead of on my pillow, she would have wrapped an arm around my shoulder and let me have my time. But…
“You’re Quinn’s friend, and she most likely needed you more than I did,” I admitted, taking a deep breath once the words were out in the open. “Plus, it’s not like I haven’t been through a girl ghosting me before.”
Abi rolled her eyes, letting out an annoyed huff. “Not like this, you haven’t.” She folded her arms and added, “I wouldn’t choose sides, you know.”
I furrowed my brow. “So, all those years I hated Cash because of what he did to you—”
“Were the dumbest years of your life because he was your friend too, but that’s beside the point.
” She waved her hand in the air. “Listen.” Grabbing my sleeve, she yanked me to the couch.
We both sank down next to Stetson. I wrapped my arm around her and pulled her close to me.
She snuggled close but gave my knee a hard slap.
Stetson laughed, then settled into his mom’s other side.
“Quinn doesn’t know what to think. She had this whole image of you in her head, and you completely erased that.
You—I don’t know—became yourself in front of her.
Everyone saw how different you were. Don’t think you became designated babysitter just because you’re good with babies.
Do you know how nervous Kyla was to leave Poppy with you?
I had to talk her into letting you babysit that first night, and then Kyla admitted you were the baby whisperer, you even took on the nickname—”
“Where are you going with this?” I raised a brow, cutting her off.
“You’re different than you were one year ago, and I think a lot of that was due to Quinn.”
“All of it was.”
“Well, not all of it, but eighty-nine percent of it. The other eleven percent was you trying to prove to her the kind of guy you really are.”
“And see how well that turned out?”
“Uncle Wyatt.” Stetson leaned forward. “She loves you.”
“She does. She’s just…” Abi sighed, her hand giving my knee another squeeze.
“Pissed.”
“Very,” Abi said, her voice to the fact.
“She saw someone so different than who she thought she was getting, and she fell in love. But now, she thinks she’s been fooled; she thinks she’s been lied to this entire time.
She thinks she lost her best friend. She gets that the entire fight was blown out of proportion, she gets she went down a rabbit hole, but to her—it's valid. I see where she’s coming from.
After seeing who she thought you were—going after girls, rumors flying around about you, useless and lazy—”
“Yup, I get it.” I ran my hand down my face.
“—and then having you do everything the exact opposite of what she thought was true, things you said hurt. They proved to her that she was right about you all along.”
“I can’t even tell you what was said. I don’t remember.”
That was a half lie. The entire fight played over and over in my head. All I could hear was her telling me it’s over, it’s over…
“Well, she does, and it’s gonna take her some time, but I think”—she nudged me—“if you give her that time and don’t run away for a month…you’ll find your way back to each other.”
“Did she tell you about Kelly?” I asked solemnly, my eyes focusing on anything but Abi.
“She…” She dragged out the word. “Did.”
“I didn’t—”
“I know. I know. You wouldn’t. You may have been a player, Wyatt, but you were never one to cheat or break a girl’s heart.
Quinn doesn’t know you like that. She saw you with an old flame, one who her mother tried to manipulate you with, one who, if I remember correctly, you said could have been something—”
“That was before—” I started to interrupt her, but she raised her hand to stop me.
“She doesn’t know that. All she knows is that you never really committed to anyone. She’s wondering why she’s different.”
“She’s different in every way. I love her.
I’ve never felt this before.” I licked my lips and inhaled through my nose, my chest rising.
I held it one…two…three…then let it out.
“I just need to give her space,” I said, hating the way those words tasted as I uttered them.
“I can’t see myself falling in love with anyone else, but”—I squeezed Abi’s shoulder, and hoisted myself off the couch—“I need to get back on my feet.”
“There’s no way to convince you to stay, huh?”
I shook my head. “No. Not unless you can promise that if I show up at Quinn’s house, she won’t slam the door in my face.”
Abi bit her lip, but stayed silent.
“She would. I know because I tried. She’s not answering my texts, she’s not looking at me when we’re in the stables, she’s ignoring me completely when she stays for dinner—she has probably fallen out of love with me.”
“She hasn’t.”
Ignoring Abi, I shook my head and looked at my boots. “I just need to go on this trip. I need to announce, and I need to figure it all out.”
“What about the meetings that you and Lach have been having? What’s that all about?”
“My two hundred and fifty acres.”
“And?”
“I’m still going through with my plan. Even if she doesn’t want it, I don’t need it. She does.”
Abi gave me a soft smile. Standing, she rubbed her hands on her thighs before wrapping her arms around my waist. “Just promise me you’ll give her time. Don’t give up on her yet. Despite what you think, I don’t think she’s given up on you.”
I hugged my sister, pulling her into me. “Thanks for the encouragement, but…” I put my chin on her head. “I’m pretty sure she has.”
Two Weeks Later
I fucking miss her.