CHAPTER 19 BEN
I take my time returning home but only because Gramma told me to.
It’s Saturday afternoon when I roll into town, and I head home first to unload Buddy and check on my place.
When I walk in, it just feels different.
Because it is different.
She’s gone.
All her stuff is gone.
It’s just my place again. The car across the street is gone, probably bored since I was in Montana for the better part of the last month. There’s no sense in the car returning now, either. I don’t exactly have any big plans.
I need to come up with some. I need that Shithead Shindig my dad mentioned or something to fill the gap. I haven’t even planned my annual End of Summer Bash yet.
I guess I’m just not in the partying mood.
Instead, I’m in the mood to see Kaylee.
I text Jack first.
Me: Is Kaylee staying with you?
He doesn’t respond right away, and I start getting antsy. Maybe I should just text her directly, but I get the feeling she won’t respond, either.
So I go with the one person who has to respond to me since I’m her client.
Me: Is Kaylee staying with Jack?
Her reply is nearly instantaneous.
Ellie: Please keep all communication professional.
I sigh. They’re not going to make this easy on me.
And they shouldn’t. I fucked up, and I know it.
Me: Fine. On that note, can I swing by? I need an action plan.
Ellie: Yes. I’m working today until five.
I glance at the clock. It’s already a little after three. I scratch Buddy’s ears then jump back in the car and practically fly to Luke and Ellie’s house.
She answers the door, which is good since I’m not sure I’m ready to face Luke just yet. “Come on in,” she says with a sigh.
I flop onto her couch and look at the empty desk where Kaylee used to work.
“She’s not here?” I ask. “Is she at Jack’s?”
Ellie shakes her head. “You really haven’t heard?”
My brows dip. “Heard what?”
“She took a position in California and moved a few days ago.”
My chest aches and my heart drops.
I just spent two days in the car telling myself that if she’s here, we can talk.
And she’s not here.
It’s like the universe is sending me a sign to let her move on. To let her live her life.
To let her be happy and to let her find all the things she was searching for that I couldn’t give her…even if I’m starting to think I could give her those things.
That I want to give her those things.
“I’m too late?” I ask softly.
“For what?”
“I don't know,” I mutter. “To figure things out.”
“I don't know if it's ever too late for that,” she says, glancing up at me. “Do you really need an action plan, or did you come here to ask about Kaylee?
“I came here to ask about Kaylee,” I admit. “And to be perfectly honest, I haven’t clicked the links to any of the news stories you've sent to me over the last few days.”
“Yeah, it did sort of seem like you fell right off the map.”
“That was my intent. Some shit happened and I wasn't completely honest with everyone and now…”
“You're paying for it?” she correctly guesses.
I nod. “But I think it's better this way anyway.”
“Do you honestly believe that?”
No, I don't. Especially not after everything that's gone through my head over the last few days and after my talks with Gramma and the realization that I've come to both about myself and about who I am as a man when I am with her.
But those are things I need to say to her, not to her sister-in-law.
So instead of admitting any of that, I simply shrug. “I have a season I need to be preparing for and my head is currently nowhere near the game, so yeah, I think maybe it is for the best right now.”
“You know what I think?” she asks, narrowing her eyes at me.
“Do I want to know?” I mumble, a little afraid she’s about to give me the type of gut check I didn’t come here for.
“I think you crushed one too many beer cans on your dumb head.” She gives me a pointed look and maybe I should be mad that my publicist, a person I am gainfully employing and paying to work for me, just said that to me…
but I know she's also a friend. She’s practically family.
She's close enough to the situation that she can give it to me straight and I think she might be one of the few people in a position to do that.
“Thanks.”
She doesn’t laugh. Instead, she seems to purse her lips harder.
“Did she say anything about me before she left?” My voice is soft—something that’s completely out of character for me.
“She said a lot of things,” Ellie admits. “But those are questions you should ask her.”
“That's fair.” I pause as I twist my lips. “I just have to get her to talk to me first.”
Ellie pauses a beat, and then she says, “Speaking of action plans, are you planning any of your big parties anytime soon?”
I shake my head. “I haven't been. I usually have my big end of summer blowout but I was just thinking the other day I'm really not in the partying mood right now.”
“You mentioned you haven't checked any of the links I've sent, but you could do with some positive media attention if you are interested in any sort of charity event.”
Maybe I should care what the media is saying about me.
I don’t. I don’t want to relive the breakup with Kaylee, and I don’t care if Tatum ran to the press with more lies.
If my reputation is ruined, then so be it.
My entire life is ruined because I let Tatum into the driver’s seat again over something as dumb as a towel.
I got scared and I reacted. I chose wrong, and now I’m stuck with the fallout.
I should mention all that to Ellie, but instead, I just address the question at hand. “I don't have time to plan anything. If I did it would be a bullshit thrown together sorry excuse for an event that I really don't have the heart to run right now.”
Her brows dip. “What exactly happened that you weren't being truthful about?”
I blow out a breath. “If I tell you, does it stay between us?”
She stares at me blankly as she tries to handle that question. “It's quite a conflict. You're my client, but she's my sister-in-law.”
“I won’t put you in a position to have to choose then.”
“Thank you,” she murmurs. She narrows her eyes at me again.
“You really want to know, don’t you?” I goad.
The narrow in her eyes deepens to a glare. “I do, but this will be an exercise in patience. You will tell her when the time is right, and you will tell me when the time is right, too. But can you answer one question for me?”
“What?”
She purses her lips for a beat. “Is this a mess I’m eventually going to have to clean up?”
“Nah,” I say. “I got ahead of it for you this time.”
She sighs. “Sometimes you scare the shit out of me.”
I can’t help but laugh. “Sometimes I scare the shit out of myself, too.”
I head back home to a lonely and quiet house with only Buddy there. A text pops through on my phone just after dinner time.
Jaxon: Heard you’re back in town and single again. Up for a titty bar?
It’s my default. My go to. It’s who I am. And yet in this moment…I find myself suggesting an alternative.
Me: I’ll go out drinking, but I need a break from titties tonight.
Jaxon: I’ll round up the boys and hit you back with a plan.
He does, and I find myself sitting at a bar on Las Vegas Boulevard less than two hours later.
It’s packed as Saturday nights tend to be on the Strip, and the four other guys I’m with are on the hunt for pussy while I just want to go home.
I’ve been hit on more times than I can count. I smell like strawberry daiquiris, the clear drink of choice for the drunk bachelorettes hoping to score a pro football player for just one night.
But it all just feels so empty after the depth of what I shared with Kaylee.
“Dude, you okay?” Cory asks me. I’m transported back to a time when he had asked Jack if he could take Kaylee out for drinks.
We were at the hockey game and it was just at the start of my tryst with Kaylee.
We were nothing yet, and I had no idea how it would turn into something incredible just a few short weeks into it.
I remember Jack's heated reaction as he looked to me to defend him when he told Cory it was out of the question.
Now I see why. I should've taken that as a warning sign, and I didn't.
I should’ve listened to his words about how it might affect the locker room.
I didn’t run into Luke when I stopped by to talk to Ellie today, but I will. He’s retired, though. Jack isn’t. If I don’t see him before, I will run into him at camp, which is just over a week away.
The dynamic will be different. How can it not be? I hurt someone he cares deeply about. I’m the asshole. And I’m hurt, too. I’ll feel that pain every time I see him since she’s so close to him. I’ll want to ask about her, but I won’t want to overstep locker room boundaries.
It’s all so fucked, and even worse, I hate how I'm sitting here at the bar thinking it all over again and again. This place should be completely my element, and instead I’m totally taken out of it because of the thoughts that keep pressing down on me so heavily.
I shake my head to answer Cory’s question.
Someday this will get easier.
Right?
Right. Even I’m not stupid enough to believe that.