Chapter 12 Ewan #2
It’s a cliché response, but it’s all I got right now. The rest of me is too busy trying to tamp down an insecurity I didn’t realize I had. Something that hadn’t even occurred to me to be worried about. Until now.
I swallow hard, maintaining my outward composure so that no one has any idea that internally I’m a little freaked out. That a perfectly normal, brotherly insult would send me reeling.
I look to Maisey, our eyes locking, and that’s when I see it—her question.
Shit.
Despite what my brother’s comeback implies, I’m not totally inexperienced. My list of experiences and partners is just short. Really, really short. And there’s nothing wrong with that.
Unless the woman you love has been all over the world and potentially has had all sorts of international lovers who probably know a myriad of incredible sex tricks you don’t.
Maybe I didn’t blow her mind as much as I thought this morning…
“You’re not really my type,” he replies, pulling me back into the moment.
“Knock it off. What’d he do to you?” Sawyer smacks him with the back of her hand, before giving Maisey a nod.
I smile, liking that those two have already formed a bond.
Rounding the counter, I hand Maisey her Coke, the insecure voice in my head still whispering away.
My sexual history was never going to be a secret from her—I don’t plan to have any secrets when it comes to Maisey—but it had never occurred to me until this moment that I might not live up to her expectations.
I turn to go join my brothers on the couch, but Maisey grabs my wrist, stopping me.
Her brow furrows, those beautiful blue eyes going a shade deeper, as her mouth turns downward, her silent question as loud as can be.
I shake my head, trying to just as silently communicate back to her that it’s nothing, but she’s not having it.
Tightening her grip on my wrist, she pulls me into her. “What did Anton mean?”
“Nothing.” I shake my head again. “He’s being Anton. That hasn’t changed either. Still an instigating shit.”
She doesn’t believe me—not fully—but lets it go anyway, understanding that if she’s going to get me to talk about it, this isn’t the place. Letting go, she presses her lips together and nods.
My chest tightens, all the happy, sunshiny feelings from earlier slipping into the background.
Really, I shouldn’t let this get to me. It was a stupid, offhand comment.
Anton has made a thousand over the years.
I’m sure he’s probably forgotten he’s made it by now.
Hell, it was this kind of comment that forced him into the bet with Hux, and subsequently the rest of us, resulting in him asking out Sawyer.
He came out of that one smelling like roses—eventually—but only after he stepped in it. A couple of times.
There is no reason I should let him get to me now.
“So, The Booby Trap,” Gus says, as I plop down on the couch.
Errr…what?!
I look at him quizzically, wondering if I missed part of a conversation that he’s circling back to. Knowing Gus, I might have. All business, all the time, he’s probably been talking shop while the rest of us were laughing at the T-shirt.
“What about it?”
“You’re still the sole owner.”
I continue to stare at him. Stating facts about my own business to me is not having a conversation.
Especially facts that I’m proud of. My share of the family money I was gifted at graduation was used for renovation and expansion.
And my loan? I was able to pay it off in a fraction of the loan term, so I now own the store outright, and business is booming.
All this also means it doesn’t fully fall under the Hayes Industries umbrella, a fact that drives Gus absolutely insane.
“I think we really need to seriously discuss bringing it into the fold and making it an official part of the company.”
And there it is…
“Things are fine as they are,” I insist.
I take a long swig of my soda, trying to focus on the game. I look over at Hux, who is watching his new wife intently, a shit-eating grin on his face. Won’t be getting any backup from him—got it.
“You need to think long term, Ewan. About what happens when…” He gestures with his hand, like I should follow his thought process. Only, I don’t.
“When what?”
“When Maisey leaves again.”
His words hit me like a bullet. If my footing hadn’t started to feel a little wobbly thanks to Anton’s stupid comment, this would be more than enough to do it. As it is, this knocks me on my ass. Good thing I’m already sitting.
When Maisey leaves again…
Not if, but when. Like it’s a foregone conclusion. Something that will happen.
My stomach churns, the room spinning as I work to find some kind of response. In my lack of one, Gus continues.
“If you go with, who’s going to run the store? Is it going to be protected? If it’s under Hayes, then you’ve got us to make sure that—”
“Really, dude?” Hux cuts in. Okay, maybe I do have support from him.
“All I’m saying is, we should have a plan for when Maisey leaves again.”
I reach down deep, ready to pull out a response. One to tell him to just knock it off. That we are not having this discussion. Especially not at Sunday dinner. But then from behind me comes a voice that cuts through me like the sharpest razor blade there is. One that does all my dirty work for me.
“Sorry, boys. Can’t get rid of me that easy.”