10. Leah
Leah
My eyes almost roll out of my head when the doorbell rings. Parker is training Bridget right now, so whoever is on the porch isn’t him, and I’m not delusional enough to think Grady is paying me a surprise visit.
Paint is splattered all over me. The one time I try to enjoy my morning, it’s interrupted. Damn it.
My face twists, blood scalding as it races through my veins.
“Before you slam the door, just hear us out,” Warren blurts, hands raised in defense. “We’re here to apologize.”
Lips pulled tight, I quirk a brow.
Warren scrubs a hand down his face. “We acted like total assholes.”
“The worst kind of dicks,” Quincy adds.
“That’s the best you’ve got?” I fire back. “Typical. Pretty boys never have to work for it, and it shows.”
“You didn’t let us finish,” Warren’s face softens. “It’s obvious that Grady has eyes for you. Parker, too. We were intimidated and let our dicks do the thinking.”
I sigh through my nose. “They don’t like me like that, Grady actively avoids me, actually.”
Quincy hikes a shoulder. “Believe what you want. We know what it looks like to yearn.”
“So, what? You showed up here to beg for a second chance? You realize that I have to work with them, right? Jealousy is gross. You lost at least ten points each by acting like toddlers.”
Warren’s hands twitch at his side, avoiding my gaze. “We don’t expect forgiveness.”
Quincy’s jaw works, attention glued to the porch. “We just wanted to set the record straight, so you know we’re not the colossal assholes we presented as.”
I swallow around a lump in my throat. For some unknown, absurd reason, I step to the side, inviting them in. Clearly more rational than I, their eyes widen. For a minute, their silent stares hold me in place.
Eventually, I snap out of it. “Well, I’m not gonna keep letting the bugs in. Come on, I’ve got drinks and snacks.”
Warren’s chest deflates with a relieved sigh. Quincy’s eyes glimmer, bright as the sky overhead.
Looks like my art time is over. I untie my paint smock, draping it over my easel, keeping my back to them until I’m ready for whatever comes next.
Drinks, that’s a good distraction. I’m nothing if not hospitable. It’ll also buy me a few more minutes of procrastination. Perfect. Sweet tea in one hand, mismatched glasses in the other, I join them in the living room.
Their eyes are glued to the pitcher, watching intently as I fill the cups.
Warren grabs one, sniffing it.
“Never had sweet tea before?” I tilt my head. “Or are you worried I poisoned it. I’ll drink first.”
“Never had it.” The raw emotion in his face gives me pause.
Quincy, far less skeptical, takes a sip. His eyes flash with surprise at first, filling with glee as the flavors mingle.
Gone are the assholes from yesterday. Somewhere along the way, they’ve had a change of heart. Then again, this could be part of their scheme, but they’re… human right now, albeit a little weird.
Screw it.
Their energy is infectious, and I want to give them the chance to show their intentions. No time like the present. I sit between them, relaxing into the cushion.
Warren, to my left, takes a sip of his tea and groans. “God damn. Bitter and sweet all in one delicious, cold package. This is amazing.”
Quincy turns to face me more directly. “Did you make this?”
“Yeah, I always have a jug ready to go. Love the stuff. No matter how bad it is for me.” I let out a soft chuckle.
“Listen,” Warren mutters, voice ghosting over my shoulder. “We have our reasons for acting the way we did. Not saying it’s right, but the version of us you were introduced to, that’s not the real us.”
Goosebumps line my skin, heart dancing in my chest as Quincy scoots closer. This is bad. But it feels right.
No. I cannot be this drawn to four men.
I straighten. “Swear you’re not going to be assholes anymore. I don’t like hating people, but if you’re rude to Grady one more time, or if you give Parker one more nasty look, I’ll never talk to either of you again, neighbors or not.”
“I swear,” Quincy answers immediately. “It fucking sucked seeing how upset you got. I… I don’t want to be that guy. You looked so happy and excited going into the diner, and we ruined that.” Swallowing hard, his finger brushes against my leg.
“Yeah, it was a big eye-opener. We can tell you a million times that we’re decent guys, but it’s not going to matter unless we show it. We’re prepared to put in the effort.” Warren lifts one corner of his mouth, eyes softening.
My nerves stop burning, breath slowing. “Okay. Friends?”
They sigh in unison. “Friends.”
Each day here is the same monotonous mess.
Sure, I try to find little things to do with the guys when we have time.
Food is pretty much the extent of my abilities, since there’s nothing else around.
Tonight, I’m making dinner. They always appreciate a break from the catered slop this place gives us.
I’ve had a roast in the slow cooker all day, and the garlic mashed potatoes I just finished whipping up are velvety, creamy perfection.
Day in and day out, for the past month. I’ve been training, avoiding Bridget as much as possible. Parker does his best to keep Grady civil with me, which is appreciated.
This whole dynamic is exhausting.
Warren and Quincy have stayed true to their word so far, not causing issues.
Oddly, they’re never training. Not that I particularly look for them.
But they do come to keep me company occasionally, and I have noticed them lingering during my sessions.
The fact that their stalls remain empty is another mystery, but I’ve decided it’s not my business.
Meal packed, I head over to Parker’s cabin.
He answers the door with an inquisitive glint in his eye, inspecting the bowl in my hands and the padded bag on my shoulder. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”
“I brought dinner, it’s not chicken and waffles from Carrie’s, but it’s still tasty, promise.” I grin a bit too wide.
“Oh, you can do more than breakfast and cookies? You’re a regular little housewife, huh?” His eyes crinkle as he returns my goofy smile.
“I-uh.”
I wouldn’t mind being your wife.
“Is that so?” His whole face lights up, voice mirthful.
I groan, shoving the bowl of potatoes into his chest. “You know my thoughts don’t stay where they belong.”
“Do I ever.” He tips his head toward the table with a chuckle. “Keep it up and I might just take you up on the idea.”
My cheeks flush, stomach dipping. Outlandish images fill my head. Future us with a couple of babies, the training facility of his dreams. I could make it happen. Easy as pie. If only I had time to get all the gears in motion. Would it be careless of me to start looking at land?
Of course it would. These things take time, and for now we’re all content enough to stay here.
My musing is interrupted as Grady shuffles to the table. He stares intently while I unzip the carrier for my slow cooker. As soon as the lid is off, the savory smell permeates the air—beefy, herbaceous, and tangy from the Worcestershire sauce.
“Fuck,” Parker groans, bringing over plates and silverware. “I want to do unspeakable things to you.”
The way he says it is meant to be in good fun, but my body does not get the memo. I have to squash the desire before it bubbles over and lets my desperation show. Somehow, I’ve let this man—all four of them, actually—under my skin in ways they shouldn’t be.
Schooling my features, I grab a plate. “I just figured we could do with a good home-cooked meal. The measly little scraps they give us here are a joke. And Darlene is going to get sick of seeing us if we keep going to Carrie’s three or four times a week.
” I dart my eyes to Grady for a second, and he lurches his head back.
“Oh, come on, you’re singlehandedly going to eat all their waffles. ”
Parker lets out a faint snort. “We’ve been going just as often for months before you got here.”
“Well, I’m here now, and I’m not trying to come on too strong, so I gave it some time before pulling out the big guns. If you think my breakfasts are good, just wait.”
I portion out chunks of tender beef, along with carrots and tomatoes that have been stewing in the juices. When mountains of garlic mash join the party, I know I’ve got them.
Sitting with a bright grin, I wiggle my shoulders. “Dig in, boys.”
Hums of approval echo through the room. Appreciation dances on their faces as they devour their meals. As warm as this makes me, there’s a strange ache deep in my chest. One that has nothing to do with the men at the table. It makes no sense, but the empty chairs pull at my heartstrings.
Parker notices me staring. Brows arched, he wipes his mouth and asks, “What’s wrong?”
“Do you think, one of these days, we can invite Warren and Quincy? I know, I know, but before you say ‘no’, hear me out. Please?”
Matching tight expressions meet me from across the table, but they don’t interrupt.
“Okay,” I continue, “I’ve spent some time with them over the past couple of weeks. They seem decent beyond their original actions. I’ve been getting to know them, and I… I want to do things like this with them, too.” I stare at my untouched food, fidgeting with my fork.
“You’ve been spending time with them?” The tension in Parker’s voice makes my skin prickle.
“Not a lot. But they promised to try, and I promised to give them the chance. I’ve kept all of you separate because of the situation at the diner, but they swore to do better. So far, they have been.” Chills run up my spine, stomach churning.
Parker looks at Grady. They share a silent conversation, but their clenched jaws and brow twitches are loud. Every time they do this, my head spins. It makes no sense to me, but they understand perfectly.
Grady gives a final nod, and Parker turns to me. “Let’s give it a little more time. I need to tell you something about them, but I can’t yet.”
“What?! Why?” I wail, skin pebbled. “What is with all the secrets?”
Parker goes still, eyes moving to Grady for the faintest moment. “They’re not my secrets to tell, or I already would have.”
I want to scream, to jump over this table and smack Grady senseless.
But whatever his issue is, the reason for his secrets, it scares him more than my disapproval.
Based on the pain in his eyes, he hates himself enough for it.
Realistically, I don’t know anything about him.
I barely know Parker. They feel like friends some days, and total strangers the next.
“I don’t like being kept in the dark. You’re going to have to tell me eventually, or this will never work.” I stand too fast, banging my knee off the table leg. “Son of a gun!” Huffing, I give them a final, frustrated sigh. “I’ve lost my appetite. I’ll pick up my stuff tomorrow. Enjoy your dinner.”
“Leah, please,” Parker begs, and they both stand to follow me.
I toss a hand back, thankful that they freeze. My nerves can’t handle them right now. Something has to give. For once, I’m determined not to let it be me. “I’m going to bed. See you both tomorrow. Forget about my pipe dream.” I hobble-stomp out the front door and go straight to my cabin.
We have a week until my first competition. I don’t have time to care about any of them. For some reason, I still do.
This is not how I saw my life devolving when I got the “yes” email from Hartbrook.
Stupid secrets.
Stupid men.