Chapter 6
SIX
ASH
The idea of telling Waylon that I’m marrying his best friend isn’t scary until we decide to meet up Wednesday afternoon after he gets off work early. Why did I think it would be any different, though?
Waylon is extremely nice, but we’ve never truly tested each other. The biggest conflicts we’ve been through were normal brother shit like arguing over a game or the brief moment when I hit on Bianca, not knowing who she was.
He’s closer to Jada than he is to me. Way closer.
I kicked vaping two years ago but the urge to take a puff yanks at me, hard. I bite my thumbnail instead and check my phone. Waylon says he’s going to be here at the trailhead in five minutes. I doubt he suspects anything, particularly not that I’m marrying his best friend out of nowhere.
Fuck.
I rake a hand down my face, then rest it on Lady’s back. I borrowed her from my parents for moral support, and I’m glad I did. I have to do my part to get the plan rolling.
Then I’ll move in with Jada. Monday, we’ll be married. And we’ll be married for as long as we need to be and not a second longer.
“Fuck,” I say out loud. This is way too fast.
A tap on my window makes me nearly leap out of my skin. It’s just Waylon with Bianca’s Pomeranian, Sadie, in a baby carrier on his chest.
“You alright?” he asks, putting his sunglasses on top of his head.
“Yeah, just zoned out.” I nudge Lady back from her attempt to lick Waylon’s face through the glass.
I get out of the car and let Lady greet Waylon’s other dog, Duke. He’s part lab, part husky, so he’s friendly, but not as friendly as Lady.
Waylon is slightly taller than me, and his childhood pudge turned into muscular bulk a long time ago. He has more than enough muscle to kick my ass and throw me into a ditch. I doubt Lady would save me.
We walk to the trailhead in silence that feels too thick for my liking. I’m not sure if Waylon senses it or not.
“It’s nice out,” he finally says. “Beautiful evening. Bet the sunset will be amazing later.”
“Yep.” I glance at Sadie, who’s asleep with her tongue poking out in the carrier. “She just lets you do that? Wear her?”
Most people would look ridiculous, but he looks completely natural.
“Yeah.” He scratches under the dog’s chin. “She’s a sweet girl.”
The trail is lined with trees that shade us. It’s humid for April, but in the shade, it’s just right. I spent a lot of time outside growing up, trying to escape the house and everyone’s bullshit. Being back in this specific kind of nature feels right.
“So what’s the deal with this hike?” Waylon asks after a long pause. “You look like you’re going to throw up.”
“Jada and I are dating and I’ve asked her to marry me,” I blurt.
Waylon stops, then stares at me. His eyes narrow for a moment before he laughs, an eyebrow cocked.
“What? Okay.” He keeps walking. “Anyway, Bianca’s parents’ friends are letting us use these villas at a resort in the Caribbean for the wedding in September. Feels a little extravagant, but it’ll be fun.”
“Wait, did you hear me?” I catch up to him. “Jada and I are together.”
“No, you’re not.” Waylon slows to let Duke sniff a tree branch. “I would know.”
I sigh and rub the back of my neck. “Not if we kept it from you on purpose.”
He finally stops and takes off his sunglasses, his dark brown eyes incredulous. “You. And Jada.”
“Yeah.” I swallow. “Me and Jada.”
Waylon’s mouth drops open a little bit, then closes. “You’re serious.”
“Yeah.”
He digs a hand into his hair. Duke looks up at him, his ears swiveling like there’s a threat. I stay quiet, though. What else can I say without blowing this whole thing up before it barely begins?
“You’re dating Jada,” he says.
“Yes.”
“And want to marry her?”
“Yes. We’re getting married.”
“Hang on.” He nods his head farther down the trail and I follow him to a small clearing to our right so people can pass us.
“Explain. All of it. How did you connect? How long has this been going on? Are you just marrying her for your inheritance? Because that’s fucked up. Why didn’t Jada want to tell me?”
“Why didn’t she want to tell you?” I laugh. “Because you’re freaking the fuck out right now.”
“I’m not freaking out,” he says, even though he’s finally stirred enough to wake Sadie from her light coma on his chest.
There’s no point in convincing him otherwise. I’ve dealt with Caro’s and Gordon’s wild moods enough to know that convincing a person who’s melting down to chill is a waste of time.
“We connected back around Thanksgiving, not long after her grandmother passed away. Just pure chance,” I say.
Waylon opens his mouth to speak, but shuts it, nodding for me to go on.
“We just started talking and texting when I left town. We even met up in Nashville a few times. It felt different this time around and it became more. We’ve kept it quiet because we knew you’d be upset. ”
“Because of what we discussed at Wes and Rose’s wedding?”
Where I told him I wouldn’t do anything stupid with her. And here I am, doing something so dumb that past me wouldn’t have even fathomed it.
He reaches down and massages Sadie’s paws, his jaw tight.
“Right.” I squat down and pet Lady, who’s blissfully unaware of everything except for the squirrels chasing each other on a tree nearby.
Waylon stays quiet for so long that I’m afraid I broke him. But it looks like he’s trying to rein it in.
“You’ve never dated anyone in your life.
You’ve been actively against serious relationships,” he says, his tone measured but simmering with anger.
“So you decide to date Jada, who’s forced me to watch an absurd amount of romcoms since we were teenagers?
And has made it very clear she wants some fairy-tale romance in her life?
Do you know how much bullshit her off and on thing with Troy dealt her? ”
The ex who’s partially responsible for this mess. I probably should have asked her more about that.
Waylon’s posture has relaxed a bit but his tone has never been more grave. I swallow the knot in my throat.
“It just happened. I’m as surprised as you are.” I shrug. “It took getting to know her to realize that relationships are great. Especially one with her.”
The lie is bitter as fuck on my tongue.
“And you’ve suddenly turned from being anti-relationship to wanting to marry Jada after dating for six months?” he asks. “Convenient, given our inheritance.”
“That’s part of it. But it’s serious between us and we’ve discussed marriage anyway.” I glance down the hiking trail. “So why not do it now?”
“Because it’s fast. Six months, dating long distance? And you want to marry her?”
“I’ve known her for about as long as you have,” I point out.
“But you weren’t friends. Hell, you hardly tolerated me. I was just your dorky younger brother, and she was my equally dorky friend.” Waylon heaves a sigh. “I almost don’t believe it. You guys don’t really fit.”
“Why do you think we don’t fit?” I ask, sounding more defensive than I am. Of course we don’t really fit.
“Jada’s a romantic. You’re a cynic. She runs a successful hotel. Your band is successful, too, but…I don’t know.” He doesn’t meet my eye. “I don’t think you’re a bad person. You’re my brother. But Jada is my best friend and I know your history with women. You’re not…”
He doesn’t have to say it. He doesn’t think I’m good enough for her.
I don’t blame him.
Cinematicas is successful now, but for five or six years, we were scrounging by, releasing music and playing shows at random spots with a handful of people. We’re pretty good when we want to be, but our success was like a lot of bands’—dumb luck. We met the right people at the right time.
But the lifestyle isn’t exactly stable and never will be. There are way too many videos of me partying and getting shit-faced out there. And that doesn’t even take my past before I left home into account. I’ve always been the bad influence. Jada’s always been Waylon’s smart, good-girl best friend.
Jada is going to find a man who’s worthy of her. I don’t doubt that for a minute. But she’ll have to do that after she divorces me.
Hearing Waylon basically say I’m not good enough for her hurts more than I thought. It hits the soft parts of myself that I don’t think he knows exist. It’s one thing to know something about yourself, but it’s another for someone to call you out on it.
“I don’t mean to be a dick,” he adds after a long, heavy silence.
“I don’t think you can be.” I try to laugh, but it doesn’t feel right for once.
“Nah, I can.” He isn’t laughing. “Especially if Jada even breathes a word of being unhappy. Or looks unhappy. Or is anything but thrilled to be married to you. I’m dead serious.”
“I know.”
“So you proposed to her? The way she’s always wanted it?” he asks, petting Sadie like he’s trying to calm himself down.
“Yeah.” I hope he leaves it at that, because I have no fucking clue what kind of proposal she would have wanted.
“And when are you getting married?” he asks. He finally starts walking again, which I didn’t realize I needed this much.
“Monday. Just a courthouse thing.”
Waylon gives me a sidelong glance and looks straight ahead again. He doesn’t say anything for the rest of the hike. Not a damn word.
“See you,” he says once we get back to the trailhead, tapping out a text now that we have service.
“Bye.” I put Lady in the car and hop into the passenger seat. I’m in good shape, but that short hike sucked the energy out of me like I’d just run a marathon.
I drastically underestimated how much this ruse would take out of me.
But we’re starting with the harder nuts to crack. It can only get easier from here. Right?
My phone lights up with a few texts.
Jada: Waylon is blowing up my damn phone. WTF happened?
I slide a hand down Lady’s back and debate what to text her. Instead, I call her.
“It’s bad enough to warrant a phone call?” she asks. “Shit, Waylon is trying to call me, too.”
“Don’t hang up,” I say. “What do you want the proposal to be? Waylon said you have a specific idea of what you’ve always wanted. I told him I did it perfectly.”
Jada sighs. “It’s not important. Tell me what happened.”
“It is important, because he asked me. I told him we’re together, he flat out didn’t believe me, then basically threatened to kick my ass if I hurt you and didn’t make your romantic dreams come true. Including that proposal.”
She goes quiet on her end. Just before I cut in to ask if she’s there, she clears her throat.
“I didn’t think he’d be legit upset,” she says. “He’d seriously kick your ass?”
“He could fucking try.” I snort. But to be honest, he probably could if he fought dirty. “Why won’t you tell me about the proposal?”
“Because you’ll laugh.”
“I won’t laugh. I’m not that big of an asshole,” I say. She huffs. “I mean it.”
The whole idea of a grand proposal feels like overkill—just ask the damn question and move on—but we need to sell this relationship.
“I’ve always wanted it to be in a gazebo,” she says, almost like she’s embarrassed.
“I can do that. I was expecting some off-the-wall shit, like skydiving.” Why a gazebo, though? I’ll have to ask later.
“My ass is staying on the ground unless I’m strapped into a plane,” she says, laughter in her tone for the first time on this call. “And we don’t need to do a whole fake proposal. You just need to know about the gazebo thing.”
“Good.” At least something is going right. “And I’m picking up a ring in town today. It’s not fancy.”
“It’s fine. This feels as romantic as taxes,” she says, shuffling something around on her end. “Waylon’s going to think I’m dead if I don’t pick up soon. I’m going to tell Jeremiah tonight, then my dad and my friends tomorrow. Then I’ll see you Friday, I guess, so you can move in.”
“Sounds good.”
We hang up and I let my head fall back onto the headrest. As much as the speed of this is giving me whiplash, I’m glad we’ll be over the worst of it by next week.