4. “I Don’t Miss You At All” - FINNEAS
“I Don’t Miss You At All” - FINNEAS
Heath
I’m late. And judging from the look on Pierce’s face, I’d better have a damn good excuse for it. “We almost lost our tee time,” he says as I approach him and Rhett on the edge of the golf course.
It’s a bluff, and all three of us know it. Pierce has a standing tee time at Ridgewood, and there isn’t a single person at the club who would dare give it to anyone else, regardless of whether he shows up or not.
Rhett smacks me on the shoulder. “You look like shit.” He’s wearing the most obnoxious golf outfit I’ve ever seen: a lime-green polo covered in toucans and neon-orange shorts.
“Hey.” I smack him back. “I overslept.”
He exchanges a knowing look with Pierce, which I’m not supposed to see. It’s no secret I’m meant to be the dumb underachiever in the group. Ol’ Heath, can’t even use an alarm clock.
What they don’t know, and what I have no intention of telling them, is that I barely slept all night. I had just dozed off when my alarm blared, reminding me that I’d agreed to go golfing this morning for god only knows what reason.
Our three caddies are waiting for us, bags slung over their shoulders. The day is already hot, the sun blazing down on us like it has things to prove. The rolling green hills stretch out ahead of us, taunting me with the reminder that I’m not about to escape any time soon.
Pierce leads us to the first hole. Rhett hits his ball into the trees beside the fairway. His caddie searches for it but eventually comes back empty-handed.
“Damn it,” Rhett says. “Did you even look?”
“I’m sorry, sir. I looked as best as I could,” the caddie says.
Rhett’s scowl grows deeper. “Fucking incompetents,” he mutters.
Pierce marks the penalty stroke on our scorecard. “Chill.”
Rhett either does what Pierce says or is smoking a joint I haven’t seen yet, because as we’re walking to the next hole, he slings an arm over my shoulders. “How are you holding up, mate? You know, with Walker back in town?”
My stomach plummets. I desperately hope he’s got weed somewhere on him, because I may need it before the morning is over. I meet Pierce’s gaze for a beat before chuckling and shaking my head. “Why would that affect me?”
Rhett shrugs but doesn’t drop his arm. “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because you were pretty torn up when she left?”
My chest constricts at the memory. It feels like I’m wearing a wetsuit that’s three sizes too small. I step away from him as we reach the second hole. “That was years ago.”
I scored the lowest on the last hole, so I prepare to tee off first. My caddie hands me the club and offers a few tips.
I swing, and the ball flies into the air and drops into a cluster of trees.
“Fuck,” I mutter, walking toward it. At least now Rhett can’t complain about the deck being stacked against him.
My caddie is already picking his way through the trees to find the ball. Rhett and Pierce each tee off, and to no surprise, my ball is the farthest from the hole. After we finish, Rhett circles back for round two of making my day even shittier.
“You still have feelings for her?” he says when we hit the path.
I give him an incredulous look. “Please tell me you’re joking.”
He throws up his hands. “I’m just asking.”
“Of course I don’t.” I shake my head and wish he’d leave me the fuck alone.
I don’t want to think about the past. I don’t want to think about what happened two years ago.
I definitely don’t want to think about her .
I jog up to where the caddies are walking to discuss the logistics of the next hole.
I manage to avoid both Rhett and Pierce as we play the third hole, mostly by not focusing on my strokes the way I normally would. But like clockwork, Rhett brings it up again as we walk to the next one.
“Dude, let it go,” I say.
“I just want to make sure you’re good with the plan.”
“I told you I’m fine last night.”
“And then you overslept,” Rhett says. “Maybe because you were up thinking about . . . things? Maybe—”
“Maybe what?” I say.
“—having doubts?”
I run my fingers through my hair, pushing it off my forehead. “You’re the one doubting me.”
“You’ve been avoiding us all morning,” he says. “It’s a little suspicious. Right, Pierce?”
Pierce gives a noncommittal grunt.
It’s only eleven o’clock in the morning, I didn’t hit the surf first thing the way I wanted, and no one is drunk yet—except maybe Rhett, whose key personality trait is “high-functioning alcoholic.” What the fuck does a guy need to do to be left alone?
I whirl around on him. “Just let it go, okay?” It comes out sharper than I intend, or maybe exactly how I intend.
I don’t usually lose my cool, but when I do, things can get ugly fast. I don’t want to lash out at my friends, but if they don’t drop this bloody Walker business, I’m not afraid to throw a few punches.
He relents, even though his smile doesn’t fade. He holds his palms up in surrender. “Fine. No more talking about Walker. We can talk about my love life instead.”
“How is the Princess Royal?” Pierce asks.
“God, so demanding,” Rhett says. “She wants me to attend all of these events with her. They’re just stupid charity things, too. Boring as fuck and only champagne to drink.”
Pierce and I exchange a look. I turn away before Rhett spots my stupid-ass grin. I’m glad he’s given me up as the topic of conversation, but the guy is fucked in the head.
“Sounds miserable,” Pierce says, a definite note of sarcasm in his voice, which Rhett misses.
“You don’t know the half of it,” he mutters.
Over the next few holes, he complains about his relationship with Princess Beatrice.
You won’t find me in line to date someone famous, let alone a royal, but there are plenty of guys who would kill to be in Rhett’s shoes.
Not only is he on his own path to fame as a musician, but dating the princess has cast him in the spotlight for the past few years, which is his favorite place to be.
“Every time I do something she wants, there are another three requests waiting to take its place,” he says. He swings, and his ball sails over the fairway.
“God forbid anyone have expectations of you,” Pierce says, with the disapproving air that can only come from the oldest child and the CEO of a billion-dollar company. He hands us each dripping bottles of craft beer from the cooler the caddies are carrying for us.
“It’s much easier if you disappoint people early.” I take a long drag of the cold drink.
“What are you talking about?” Pierce says .
I work on peeling the label from my bottle as he lines up for his shot. “Better that than after they’ve invested in you.”
“It sounds kind of genius,” Rhett says before walking toward his own ball on the green.
“Early and often is my philosophy,” I call after him.
He gives me a thumbs-up sign as he walks backward.
“That is so messed up, mate.” Pierce tilts his head back to guzzle his beer.
“Let’s compare our situations.” I hand him my bottle so I can take my shot.
“You’re stuck in relationship after relationship that is nothing short of a mindfuck.
” My club hits the ball with a resounding whack.
“Meanwhile, I get to enjoy the finer aspects of the female population without any of the garbage.”
He pushes his Ray-Bans back up his nose and smirks. “I’m sure each of your . . . companions is fully on board with this arrangement?”
I don’t know how my dating life has again become the topic of conversation, but at least this time it’s devoid of a certain someone who is sure to make me spiral and screw up this entire round.
I follow Pierce to where our balls are sitting near each other on the green.
“If they’re not, they are immediately given a choice. ”
Rhett’s ball sails into the cup. He jams his fist into the air, his own cheerleading squad.
Pierce takes the putter from his caddie and steps onto the green. “Let me guess,” he says. “Agree not to exchange numbers or part ways right there?”
I grin and finish the rest of my beer. “Something like that.”
“Is that actually how you plan to spend the rest of your life?” He putts the ball into the cup.
I hand my empty bottle to the caddie and line up for my own shot. “I’m only twenty-four, mate.” Not all of us were destined to become CEOs the day we were born, much as my father wishes that were the case. My ball also sinks into the cup, and I go to retrieve it.
“I can’t imagine it’s very satisfying.” Pierce tosses the ball into the air, then catches it in his palm.
I keep my eyes on the horizon as we walk back to the path. “It sure as hell beats disappointing someone you care about.”