Trapp #2
“She broke up with me.” He swallowed the words down, disliking their sharp edges, pausing to finish the rest of the water.
“Yeah, I mean . . . she’s moving for the job.
She signed the contract last month, so I guess she’s been planning this a while .
. . but she’s moving to get away. From me!
From the whole town, but me in particular. ”
Grayson snorted, using the tip of his toe to push himself off the wall, away from the sucking flow of the pool filter.
“That’s actually a little impressive. You were such a shit partner that she has to physically flee the state!
And here you are, looking and smelling like you were just peeled off the back hallway at the Man-o-War.
Did you at least check to make sure your wallet was still intact before you climbed out of whatever hole you spent the night in?
Is this why you’re sun blasting your asshole? ”
He was wrong. Grayson was reliable after all.
Reliably the fucking worst, and could be counted on to never be anything but.
He didn’t know why he’d thought Gray, of all people, would have anything to offer that resembled sympathy.
Trapp wasn’t sure if sympathy was even what he was looking for, but he certainly wasn’t going to find it here.
His face must have betrayed his irritation, for Grayson continued to hoot in laughter, smelling blood in the water and going in for the kill.
“You managed to get dumped by an elementary school teacher, Trapp. A human, at that! Do you have any idea how hard that is? They’re contractually obligated to see potential in hopeless cases.
Julia spent all day convincing thirteen-year-olds that they would all amount to something, pretending that some punk shifter’s essay about Minecraft contained a compelling central theme, and somehow you convinced her you weren’t worth another semester of trying. I’m wrong. That’s hugely impressive.”
Trapp’s head found the back of the chair once more, his eyes closing. The ache behind his eye began to pulse. “We’re just going to pretend that you didn’t dismantle your whole fucking life at the first sign of relationship trouble, right? Cute. That’s convenient.”
Grayson continued to chuckle, halfheartedly paddling his fingertips to turn his float around as he drifted in a slow circle.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.
You mean the five-year-plan job that’s going to get me elected to state attorney general?
Or my beautiful fiancée, who’s about to put her name above the door of the firm I started?
Which one is the life in shambles signifier? ”
He continued to laugh and Trapp ignored him, wondering why he’d been stupid enough to leave his house in the first place. You should have slept. Sleep, eat, shower. Maybe hit the bar again for round three.
He refused to open his eyes when a splash split the water a moment later.
The design of the long stretch of sloping property, walled in privacy fencing hidden in the pines, buffeted all surrounding noise, giving the deck a false sense of seclusion.
He listened to the sound of his brother swimming laps, churning and methodical, the lull of it almost making him drowsy.
It’s called healthy boundaries, Trapp.
His boundaries were fine. He didn’t play into his father’s head games, not the way the others in his family did.
He didn’t care about jockeying for a desk job at the firehouse, using his name to pave the way.
He didn’t desperately need a seat at City Hall.
He didn’t need to wonder about his place in the Cambric Creek heritage museum — he didn’t care.
Julia was right. He was happy with his life, exactly as it was.
And there’s nothing wrong with that. They can suck my balls with their healthy boundaries.
Trapp wasn’t sure if he’d nodded off or merely disassociated, his eyes opening in a glare when he was flicked with water. He’d not even heard Grayson exit the pool, but now his brother loomed over him like a mountain, rolling his eyes.
Grayson dropped into the lounger beside him, setting two condensation-covered bottles on the table between them before rubbing a towel over his hair.
“Okay, let’s get some perspective. First of all. She’s a human.”
“Do not give me one of Dad’s lines of bullshit.”
Grayson raised his hands innocently, flipping the towel to the chairback and whipping Trapp in the face in the process. “I’m just saying! Statistically, these things don’t tend to last. We both know that.”
“Statistically, that’s based on the entire wolvish population, which is heavily tilted by the packs. Of course, they’re not in relationships with humans. We both know that, too. Did you give that line to Lowell?”
“I gave it to the girl, actually,” Grayson countered immediately.
“The last time they came to visit. She said he’s had her sleeping in mud huts and trekking through jungles.
Said ‘him disappearing for two days a month is the least of her worries.’ I believe her.
It’s probably the only time she gets any peace and quiet. ”
At that, Trapp chuckled. Lowell’s human girlfriend was infinitely patient, a perfect match for their chaotic younger sibling.
“Secondly . . . What did you think was going to happen? I mean, it’s not like this is a surprise from the universe. You were together, what? Three? Four years?”
“What the fuck does that mean? You and Vanessa—”
“Vanessa and I are not the topic of conversation. And you know fucking damn well that we’ve only been together for a few years. Now she’s got me agreeing to wear pink tie to the wedding and have our ashes put in the same jar in the family crypt. Don’t even try it.”
“I honestly didn’t think she was unhappy,” Trapp admitted begrudgingly after a moment, taking the second bottle from Gray’s outstretched hand.
“She never said she was unhappy! She never said anything! We talked about marriage early on, and then it was never brought up again. By either of us,” he added, scowling ahead of the comeback that he could already hear in his brother’s voice.
“I’m so sick of everyone asking why I haven’t proposed.
An engagement shouldn’t be a surprise. Why would it be my decision alone?
Why would I be the only person in charge of deciding the next step of a partnership? ”
He tipped the bottle back, choking when an unexpected carbonation hit the back of his throat. Fruity. Slightly floral.
“What the fuck did you give me? This is what you’re drinking now? Are you an elf?”
Grayson only grinned, opening his own bottle of the Elvish spritzer.
“Low cal, surprisingly high proof, and they’re caffeinated.
You get used to the flavor. Okay, ignore for a second that she didn’t bring it up.
Humor me. What did you think was going to happen next?
For fuck’s sake, you didn’t even live together.
You’ve got a whole ass house to yourself, and she was living with a roommate like a fucking university student.
I know you inhale smoke for a living, but surely that’s idiotic even to you, right?
How did you let four years slip away without ever questioning what was next? ”
Trapp sputtered, choking on the drink once more. He would have been better off going back to the bar. You might have gotten more sympathy from Dad at this point.
“I don’t know, maybe it’s because in the past two years I’ve gone from working twenty-four on, forty-eight off to forty-eight on, ninety-six off, and time is fucking meaningless?
Christmas may as well have been two weeks ago!
I know you all think my main job is making chili and judging the garden club’s bake-off, but I’m the senior shift paramedic.
Vinlop and I are the only ones in the station licensed for flights.
I train every new EMT. I still spend more time in the box than anything else. ”
His voice shook with an emotion Trapp could barely define.
Frustration. That’s what it is. Most of the family was the same as the rest of the community — they never saw him doing anything more taxing than grocery shopping and overseeing capacity at the Makers’ Mart.
They weren’t there for the car accidents and cardiac events.
They had no idea what a stressful shift actually looked like for him.
“So maybe it’s because for half the month I’m in a suspended state of tachypsychia? I don’t know what day of the week it is most of the time, so how am I supposed to keep track of months?”
“I don’t know what that is,” Grayson interjected. “And I’m willing to bet she didn’t either. If she were to walk through that gate right now, are you dropping to a knee?”
His mouth moved, jaw working, but his voice refused to participate. He didn’t know how to answer. Yes. He would fix things with her if he could. No. Julia wasn’t wrong — he liked his life as it was. When his silence persisted, Grayson raised his hand as if Trapp had proved his point.
“No,” he blurted, fist clenching, fiery irritation finally making itself heard in his voice. Beneath his skin, his wolf snapped. “No, I’m not. And she didn’t want that either; she said so. So how am I automatically the one at fault?”
“I didn’t say you were. But what the fuck are you upset about? The two of you had forty-eight months to figure out if there was a future, so if the answer is still ‘I don’t know,’ then it’s ‘no’ with extra steps. She just arrived there first.”
Trapp let his head drop forward, deflated, his anger evaporating.
Grayson wasn’t wrong. He was the worst fucking hypocrite, but he wasn’t wrong.
Julia hadn’t been either. But knowing that didn’t ease the sick feeling churning through him since he’d walked back to Main Street alone two nights earlier.