Chapter Twenty-Nine
Then
Days after sleeping with Wyatt, Piper was still flying high, an acrobat suspended in midair. Even being grounded for the weekend
hadn’t yanked her back down to earth. The time she’d gone without seeing Wyatt had only made her want him more. Love him more.
From up in her room, she heard Wyatt’s voice downstairs. That wasn’t unusual; he came by frequently, and they’d planned to
go for a bike ride later that afternoon now that she was free. But amplified anger colored the voices below. When Piper walked
into the kitchen, everyone stopped talking.
Irritation pinched her mom’s lips. The crease in Wyatt’s forehead furrowed, his eyes dark. Only her father looked like his
usual self, but then again, he rarely got angry or upset.
Piper chewed her bottom lip. “Is everything okay?” No one answered her. “Wyatt, are you ready to bike into town?”
Wyatt shoved his hands deep into the pockets of his shorts and ducked his head so his tangle of brown curls hid his eyes from
her. He darted a glance at her mother, who crossed her arms in response. “I forgot I have to run some errands for Molly. Sorry.”
“That’s okay. I’ll come with you!” Piper slid the flip-flops sitting by the back door onto her feet.
Her mom stood. “Piper, have you signed up for your freshman seminar yet?”
Piper waved her away. “I will this afternoon.”
Wyatt came over to the door. “You should go do that now. It’s easier if I run errands myself.” He nodded in her parents’ direction.
“I’ll see you later.”
Wyatt walked out the back door and down the porch steps before Piper had registered he was leaving without her. Something
was up.
She ran after Wyatt, stopping him on the lawn. “Hey, what’s wrong? What were you talking to my parents about?”
“Nothing important. Everything’s fine.” A scowl drew his face downward, betraying his statement.
“You know you can tell me anything, right?” Piper pressed.
He nodded, looking at his hands, the ground, anywhere but her. When he shut down like this, Piper knew pushing him never worked.
He’d reveal anything he needed to tell her when he was ready.
“Then, at least give me a hug.” She twined her arms around his neck and stepped into his warmth. For a sickening second, she
thought he might not return the embrace, but his arms encircled her waist after a brief pause, drawing her in so close she
couldn’t breathe.
He buried his face in her neck, inhaling deeply. “You always smell so good. I never want to forget it.”
“It’s just my shampoo.” Piper pulled back to see his face, to make him tell her what was bothering him and why he was acting
so strange, but he tightened his grip.
Relaxing back into his embrace, she contented herself with listening to his heart thudding beneath her ear.
Eventually, he released her, rubbing at his eyes, but flashed his patented dimpled smile that contradicted any forlorn thoughts.
“Meet me at the clubhouse after dinner?”
“Of course.” She squeezed his forearms. “You promise you’re okay?”
He didn’t answer her directly but bent his head and kissed her. She could taste the salt of a stray tear on his lips. He kissed her like he was saying goodbye.
“I love you.” Piper pressed her forehead against his, wishing she could inject her words into his body—into his soul.
“I love you, too. Always.” He kissed her forehead, then pushed away and disappeared into the woods.
Dinner with her parents lasted forever. The minute the dishes were put away and her parents turned their attention to the
nightly news, Piper slipped out the back door. It was early evening at the peak of summer, and the moon lazily chased the
sun across the sky.
The anticipation of seeing Wyatt never grew old. Usually buoyant enough to lift her off the ground, her excitement tonight
was tethered by unease. Something was off, something she couldn’t put her finger on, but she was confident she could kiss
away Wyatt’s earlier troubles. Maybe he was worried about their impending long-distance relationship. Tonight, they’d make
plans for Wyatt’s first trip to visit her at UNC, she decided. Having something solid on the calendar would help. Then she’d
surprise him on base for his birthday in October; after that, the holidays were right around the corner.
The distance would be hard but worth it.
Wyatt was waiting in the clubhouse when she pushed open the yellow door and stepped inside.
“You’re early,” he said, his voice a strangled monotone. He didn’t move to kiss or hug her hello.
Piper hesitated a few feet away from him. “I’m always early. What’s going on?”
Wyatt looked out the window, avoiding her gaze. Piper’s stomach twisted. She couldn’t pinpoint what had changed, but everything
felt wrong.
“Maybe we should sit,” he suggested.
Piper shook her head and folded her arms to stop her hands from shaking. “Tell me what’s wrong.”
Wyatt picked at a loose thread on the hem of his T-shirt. When he finally looked at her, a mask had settled over his face,
replacing the Wyatt she knew with a stranger. “I’ve been thinking about this a lot lately. There’s no easy way to say this.”
He blew out a breath. “I think we should go back to just being friends.”
The words were like a bucket of ice water dumped over her head.
“Don’t get me wrong, this was a fun summer fling,” he continued woodenly, “but I think we both know it won’t last. I should
have known better than to cross that line with you.”
Piper searched his face for signs that she’d heard him wrong, but his jaw was set, his eyes defiant. Resolute in his decision.
Her stomach coiled into a tight knot. She felt like he’d handed her a live grenade, and one wrong move would catapult her
into oblivion.
“Where is this coming from? Did my parents say something to you?” Her throat ached. He didn’t mean that. He couldn’t.
He shook his head, his eyes vacant. “No, this is what I want. I think this would be best. For both of us.”
“What about what I think? What I want?” Piper choked out. She rushed toward him and grabbed his hands in hers. “Are you really
breaking up with me?” She hated how much her voice quavered. There was so much she wanted to vocalize, but the words wouldn’t
come. You’re my best friend, I love you, I’m your girl. This couldn’t be happening.
Wyatt’s hands twitched but remained stiff in hers. “We’re too young for a serious relationship. We should date, see other
people, have fun.”
Nothing sounded fun about dating other people to her, but Wyatt didn’t waver.
She tried getting him to look at her, not ready to give up. “Tell me you don’t love me anymore, and I’ll leave.” Her voice cracked.
Wyatt’s eyes glistened with unleashed pain, his face contorted in anguish. “Piper,” he ground out—the word a whisper. He threaded
his fingers through hers and squeezed three times. Tears ran down her face, drops forming a river of hurt.
She was getting through to him. “Tell me.” She grasped his hands, looking up at him pleadingly.
He leaned down, hesitating as his mouth hovered above her lips like he was torn between kissing her and turning his back.
A knock at the clubhouse door shattered the moment, and Wyatt jerked away.
“Sorry, is this a bad time?” Kiera asked, poking her head around the door.
Piper’s mouth fell open, and she almost laughed out loud. It couldn’t be a worse time. What was Kiera doing in her backyard,
in her clubhouse? She knew Kiera and Wyatt were friendly and that Kiera was an outrageous flirt, but he couldn’t possibly
have invited her here. To their sacred spot.
Piper waited for Wyatt to send Kiera away, but he waved at her in greeting. “Hey, Kiera. Piper’s about to leave, can you give
us a few minutes?”
Kiera gave Piper a pitying smile and disappeared back outside, closing the door behind her.
“You invited her here?” Piper stumbled back from Wyatt as if stung.
Wyatt nodded and shrugged like she’d asked him if he wanted fries with a burger. When his gray eyes locked onto hers, they
were as frigid and empty as a parking lot on Christmas Day.
This wasn’t the Wyatt she knew. Cold, calculating. Mean and hurtful. She wanted nothing to do with this Wyatt. Her mom had
been right after all.
All Piper could do was shake her head, hurt steaming out of her every pore. “Why?”
She must have looked as wild as she felt because Wyatt backed up a few more feet.
“Like I said, it’s better if we both move on.” Wyatt’s words drove the dagger deeper.
The icy tentacles that had been working their way through Piper’s veins turned to white-hot anger. It was one thing for Wyatt
to break her heart, it was quite another to smash it to pieces by flaunting what “moving on” looked like.
His actions were reckless, heartless, and he knew it.
Never in a million years did she think this was how their love story would end—with Wyatt shooting arrows into her heart with
every callous glare. Her pain made it hard to see straight. Or maybe that was the lurid outrage pulsating behind her eyes.
How dare he tell her he loved her. Let her believe it was safe to fall in love with him, too. Talk about a future with her
like it was everything he wanted and more when it had clearly been a silly summer fling to him.
“Maybe we could still be friends?” he asked haltingly, his eyes pleading. The frosty mask contorting his face dropped for
a fraction of a second, and a flicker of hope flashed across his eyes.
Piper sucked in a shallow breath. Her voice trembled when she spoke. “You know what? A real friend wouldn’t treat me like
this.” Tears coursed down her face. If she didn’t get out of here soon, it would become impossible to pull herself together
and leave with a hint of dignity. “I wouldn’t want to be friends with you if you were the last person on this earth. In fact,
I never want you to speak to me again.”
She blindly found her way to the door, brushed past Kiera, and ran home, knowing if she looked back at Wyatt, it would be
impossible to leave.
Wyatt didn’t stop her.
He didn’t call to apologize the next day. And when he left for boot camp a week later, he didn’t say goodbye.
Five years of friendship and one magical summer of falling in love blew away like a wisp of smoke in a hurricane.