Chapter 12 #2
I was tempted to tell him no, since he should’ve already known that answer. He used to know without asking.
But what good would it do to force my brother into feeling guilty for going off and doing his own things?
For living life without me just like we’d been doing for the past year and few months.
Making him feel bad would do nothing to change the emptiness in my chest, the fill the longing for my family that I was now beginning to realize was slowly shifting into something different.
Swallowing, I forced the words past the tightness in my throat. “Yeah. All good.”
A lie.
A small one, but still a lie.
He didn’t say anything at first. The silence stretched between us, long enough to make my pulse pick up. Long enough for me to wonder—hope—if he could hear the cracks in my voice. Like maybe, just maybe, things weren’t changing as much as I feared they were.
“All right. I’ll probably be out for a while, so I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”
My chest ached, a slow, dull pressure that made it hard to breathe around. “Yeah. No problem. I’ll leave the deadbolt unlocked.”
I shouldn’t care. He was allowed to live his life away from me. It wasn’t his fault I was clingy.
“Thanks.”
And just like that, the call was dropped.
Slowly pulling the phone away from my face, I stared down at the call log.
Four minutes and nineteen seconds.
A year ago and a half ago, that number would’ve been different. That number would’ve stretched past an hour, filled with easy conversations, inside jokes, and the kind of effortless connection that never needed explaining.
But that was then and this was unfortunately now.
My new reality.
I was beginning to realize maybe I was the only one still holding on to it.
Sighing again, I dragged a hand down my face, the weight of exhaustion pressing heavy behind my eyes. A sharp, subtle tick nagged at the back of my head, a telltale sign that I was spiraling again.
What I really needed was sleep.
I was getting way too overly emotional, reading too much into things and turning a simple phone call into something bigger than it needed to be. Maybe this wasn’t some irreversible shift between us. Maybe it was just me—tired, restless, stuck in my own damn head when I should’ve just let it go.
Back at the ranch, I was worked hard enough that by the time I made it back to the bunkhouse, there was no room for this kind of overthinking.
No space for my mind to wander relentlessly, picking apart every little thing, twisting it into something heavier than it needed to be.
By the time my head hit the pillow, I was out before I knew it.
Having none of that this past week, with none of those long days to wear me down into a dreamless sleep, my mind had too much freedom; too much time to pull at threads that didn’t need to be unraveled in the first place.
Letting out another exhale, I dragged my feet against the carpet as I turned back toward my room.
Just sleep, that was the goal.
Passing out for the next few hours would hopefully do me some good; clear my head, dull the ache in my chest, and get my emotions back on track. Away from whatever train wreck I was barreling toward at full speed.
Because if I kept thinking like this, I knew exactly where I’d end up: in a padded fucking room.
Just as I was about to toss my phone across the room onto my bed, it buzzed in my hand, the sudden vibration jolting me out of my thoughts and making my stomach lurch.
For half a second, hope flickered to life, uninvited and stupidly persistent.
I expected to see Greyson’s name pop up on the screen—some half-assed apology, maybe even a reassurance that he was ditching the bar to come home and hang out. A sign that he had noticed I was in a sour mood and still gave a damn enough to come pull me out of it.
But when I glanced down at the screen, it wasn’t Greyson’s name staring back at me.
It was Wilder’s.
The breath I hadn’t realized I was holding slipped out. My pulse kicked up stupid and irrationally as I swiped open the message without hesitation.
Merry Xmas. Hope you and your fam are well.
Simple. Uncomplicated. Thoughtful.
My cheeks burned.
Without thinking, my hand flew to my mouth, trying and failing to stifle the wide grin stretching across my face.
God, what was wrong with me?
It was just a simple text. A two second effort on his part.
Still... the fact that he had reached out at all, that he had thought of me even while I wasn’t there made something flutter in my chest that had no business being there.
Shaking my head, I quickly typed back.
Thanks. How’s everything going over your way?
I hit send, then immediately regretted it when there was no instant reply like I’d just done. My stomach twisted as I stared at the screen, watching the message sit in our thread, unread and unacknowledged.
The seconds dragged. Then a full minute. Then two.
He wasn’t going to answer.
I was being so stupid.
It was Christmas, for God’s sake. Wilder had his own life to deal with and take care of. He was probably up at the main house with his mother, sitting by the fireplace with a cup of tea while they watched old holiday movies together.
He wasn’t sitting around staring at his phone waiting for my text. Hell, he probably hadn’t even hesitated before sending that message—just a quick, polite check-in before going back to his night. He probably figured I was also with my family, caught up in the same holiday chaos he was.
He had no reason to think otherwise. No reason to know that I was sitting in this dark empty house all by myself on Christmas evening.
Fuck, I really needed to go to bed and forget this entire fucking day.
Just as I was about to lock my phone and throw it across the bed for real this time, the screen lit up once again.
All good. Had dinner. Now Laken is playing music.
I bit my lip, a sharp pang of longing hitting me straight in the ribs.
I missed the ranch horribly. The familiar chaos of everyone gathered in the dining room at the bunkhouse. The warmth, the laughter, the way the air always smelled like something Hazel had been slow-cooking for hours.
I missed the easy rhythm of the days, the exhaustion that came from a hard day’s labor, the feeling of belonging that I hadn’t even realized I’d taken for granted until I was away from it.
And more than anything, I missed him.
Before I could stop myself, my fingers moved across the keyboard.
No dessert? Hazel’s losing her touch.
A second later, his reply popped up.
Lol.
Simple. Short. But for some reason, it was enough to make me smile.
Don’t worry, I’ll keep that secret between us.
A few seconds later, his reply appeared.
You said it. Not me. Don’t rope me into your badmouthing.
I huffed out a laugh.
Hey, hey. There’s no badmouthing going on here. Just a simple critique.
I’m showing her your message. Kitchen duty for you when you get back.
I sent him a bunch of skull emojis in return.
Leave it to Wilder to weaponize my own words against me. Usually, it was Ryder’s job to hassle me, but apparently, my own boss was taking up that mantle for the night instead.
Not that I minded.
The banter was easy, natural. It filled the space between us, miles be damned. He always had a way of grounding me, even when he didn’t mean to. Even while we were separated by half a state.
My phone lit up again but this time it wasn’t a text. Wilder’s name flashed across my screen, an incoming phone call nearly making me drop my phone from shock.
Why the hell was he calling?
Hesitantly, I swiped my thumb over the screen, bringing the phone to my ear. “Yes?”
“You all right?” he asked. His voice was low, smooth, that familiar southern drawl slipping through the speaker like warm honey. It never failed to do things to me. Especially, right now.
In the background, I caught the faint hum of conversation, overlapping voices blending together with the unmistakable strumming of Laken’s guitar. The sounds were lively, warm. A stark contrast to the quiet of my own house.
But then, slowly, the noise began to fade. The clinking of glasses, the laughter, the music—all of it dimming like he was moving away from the group, stepping into another room away from everyone else.
“Yes?” I echoed, more confused. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
“You sent those death emojis.”
Without meaning to, I burst out laughing. “That was not a cry for help. That was me accepting my fate.”
He grunted on the other end.
In my mind, I could almost see his brows furrowing, lips pressing together in that unreadable expression he always wore when he was thinking too hard.
The one that made him look a little too serious sometimes, like he was puzzling over something important even if it was a dumb text message full of emojis.
“Oh.”
God, he was too cute.
I bit back a smile. It was so like Wilder to overthink things like this. Maybe we were two peas in a pod with that horrible trait. Both of us guilty of reading between the lines, turning molehills into mountains in our own heads for no reason other than to torture ourselves.
“Sorry for worrying you,” I replied.
“I’m happy to hear you’re all right. Things go well with your family today?”
Without meaning to, I let out a soft sigh, collapsing down onto my bed the second my knees brushed along the edge of it.
Wasn’t that a damn question for the ages?
One I absolutely had no business getting into with my boss, let alone on Christmas when the world was supposed to be draped in twinkling lights and holiday cheer.
The noise was barely audible, just a breath of frustration slipping past my lips, but apparently loud enough to catch his attention.
“That doesn’t sound good.”
Shit.