Chapter 14
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
WESLEY
Lane Hartford is a disrespectful prick and I’m done with his entitled bullshit.
I don’t know why he suddenly thinks the rules don’t apply to him—but tonight, he’s about to get a rude fucking reminder.
My pulse is roaring in my ears and my jaw locks tighter with every step up to the main house. By the time I reach the door, I’m half a second from ripping it off its hinges.
Every muscle in my body is humming with tension. I didn’t plan to walk into dinner like this. I wanted to be composed and rational, but all that flew straight out the fucking window this morning when I overheard Lane in the bunkhouse.
I’d been waiting outside for Landon when I caught Sadie quietly slipping out the front door. Her hair was piled in a messy bun on top of her head, and her hoodie sleeves were tugged down over her hands, the hem falling mid-thigh.
Lane’s hoodie.
That image alone was enough to ruin my morning, but I wasn’t going to let it fuck me up. She can wear whatever she wants. It doesn’t mean anything to me.
My shitty start went from bad to worse when Land texted that he was running late, and said to come inside for coffee while I waited for him. He was coming with me into town to help me pick up a few orders.
So I went in and sat there at the table, trying to swallow the sight of her in another man’s clothes.
Then Lane came out of his room. Freshly showered. Hair still damp. That same smug fucking grin on his face.
The summer guys were all over him, hyping him up and congratulating him—fucking congratulating him—asking how his night went, their tone heavy with insinuation.
He brushed them off at first, but he is a weak man, and eventually they wore him down.
A young prick with wavy blonde hair cropped short on the sides and way too much confidence—Joel, I think—slapped Lane on the shoulder and said, “Come on man, give us something to dream about.”
Lane hesitated. Then he looked right at me and smirked. And I knew what was coming before he even opened his mouth.
“Let’s just say the bull wasn’t the only thing she rode last night.”
The words hit like a sucker punch.
His eyes stayed locked on mine as the guys hooted around him. The room erupted with laughter and cheers, and all I could do was stare at him.
He wanted me to hear it.
Wanted me to feel it.
To know he’d won.
I wanted nothing more in that moment than to put him through the fucking wall. To bash his face in until he was unrecognizable.
But it wouldn’t change anything. Wouldn’t undo what already happened.
The thing is, I don’t even know when it stopped being about rules and started being about her. But I can’t remember a single day this summer where she wasn’t in my head, messing with the rhythm of every thought.
And now she’s his.
I have to fight the overwhelming urge to deck him every time I see his smug face.
When Land and I got back, Lane was on the schedule to help Emmett and I with a guest ride. If I thought we could handle everyone, just me and Landon, I’d have told Lane to fuck off and do something else.
But I wasn’t going to risk guest safety just because I hate looking at his face.
By the time I step into the house, I’m still on edge, the anger vibrating through my bones.
Do I want him gone? Abso-fucking-lutely.
But there’s a pit in my stomach whispering that if I do this, if I open my mouth, I might lose her for good.
Dad and Emmett are already at the table when I walk in. Emmett’s mid-story, animatedly telling Dad about the donkey he’s convinced is out to get him.
I pass through the dining room and into the kitchen to wash my hands. I always think of my mom, drilling into me and Emmett to wash up before dinner. My chest tightens thinking of her. I wish she were here to tell me what I should do.
I fill a glass of water and slide into my seat. Sadie’s usual spot next to Emmett is empty.
“Where’s Sadie?”
“She said she was running a little behind. Lane’s helping her finish,” Dad says casually, scooping mashed potatoes onto his plate.
Emmett chokes on a laugh, trying to hide it behind his hand.
Dad glances up, raising an eyebrow. “What’s the matter with you?”
“Nothing,” Emmett says quickly, eyes glinting. “I’m sure Lane’s doing a great job helping Sadie finish.”
I nearly snap the glass in my hand.
My jaw tightens, my throat thick with the taste of blood I can’t quite swallow.
But Emmett’s poor excuse for a joke flies right over Dad’s head as he continues cutting into his grilled chicken.
My fists clench under the table as I narrow my eyes on my brother, mentally adding him to the growing list of people I’d like to pummel.
I can’t do this anymore. Can’t sit here pretending everything’s fine while the one person I can’t stop thinking about is the one person I can’t have. Lane doesn’t get to break the rules and get away with it.
So I do it. I throw the grenade.
“Sadie and Lane have been hooking up behind your back,” I blurt.
Emmett’s eyes snap to mine, wide and unblinking. A blanket of silence covers the room. Dad freezes mid-slice and studies me, his expression unreadable.
And then, in perfect timing, the front door slams shut. Footsteps echo through the hall, and there she is.
She’s a little breathless, cheeks flushed and eyes bright. Lane follows closely behind her, casual as ever.
Fuck me.
“That didn’t take too long,” Dad says lightly, glancing up at them.
“All thanks to Lane,” she says, smiling up at him. “It would’ve taken me an hour to finish on my own.”
Emmett chokes on a sip of water. Dad smacks the back of his head, giving him a look that says knock it off.
I can’t breathe. What does a panic attack feel like?
“Sit down and help yourselves,” Dad says. “Dinner’s getting cold.”
Only then do I clock the extra place setting. I glance at him, confusion etched in my brow, but he doesn’t look at me.
Instead of sitting next to Emmett like usual, Sadie takes the other open seat next to me, acting as a human barrier between me and Lane, while Lane sits across from Emmett—between Sadie and Dad.
Every muscle in my body tightens.
The silence is a wall between us. The air feels weighted, like static before a storm.
Everyone is acting so…normal.
Emmett passes the rolls across the table to Lane, Dad resumes slicing into his chicken, and Sadie chugs her water, fidgeting with the hem of her shirt.
My plate remains untouched. I lost my appetite the moment I saw Lane walking in behind her.
Sadie peeks at Lane. He gives her a reassuring smile, and she clears her throat.
“Hey, Heath? I have something I wanted to talk to you about.”
Dad holds up a finger. “Hold that thought for just a second, honey. Wes was in the middle of telling me something.”
His attention flicks back to me and I swallow, my stomach turning to ice.
Shit.
Sadie looks at me, two little lines appearing between her eyebrows. I sip my water, stalling, trying to buy myself some time to think of a way out of this.
But I’m adrift on a sinking ship, and my own father just took the last lifeboat.
I look at her one last time before I torch everything.
This is going to hurt.
I swallow hard. “Lane and Sadie have been breaking your rule,” I say, forcing the words out. “Hooking up behind your back.”
Sadie gasps and the sound wrecks me.
“Wesley,” she whispers softly, and there’s a pain in her voice that I’ll never forgive myself for.
Lane mutters something under his breath that I can’t make out. Emmett blows out a low whistle.
My eyes stay locked on Dad.
“Is that so?” he asks evenly.
I nod once, waiting for his disapproving lecture—but it doesn’t come.
Instead, he sighs deeply. “Under different circumstances, I’d thank you for telling me. But someone already beat you to it, son.”
The ground disappears beneath me. Sadie and I both whip our heads to Emmett.
He immediately drops his fork and throws up his hands. The clattering echoes through the room. “It was not me. I fucking swear it. I told you, I don’t break promises.”
Sadie’s eyes fill with tears.
If I’d just kept my fucking mouth shut, she wouldn’t be crying right now.
Landon and Lydia are the only other people who knew. Land’s not the type to get involved with drama or gossip, so it couldn’t have been him, and Lydia wouldn’t betray Sadie like that.
“Who?” I ask, my voice harsher than I intended.
Lane reaches over and grabs hold of Sadie’s hand. Out in the open. Right in front of Dad. Like it’s no big deal.
I can’t bring myself to look away, even though I have no right.
I’m the one who pushed her away. I’m the one who told her not to get the wrong idea. It still doesn’t stop the fucking ache.
“I told him,” Lane says, gently squeezing her hand. “After that first night I asked you to dance.”
She looks up at him. A single tear breaks free, spilling down her cheek.
“He’s being humble,” Dad says with a chuckle. “This boy came pounding on my door in the middle of the night confessing to everything. Said he kissed her and wanted to ask permission to date her properly. I told him yes.”
Sadie’s breath catches. My ears ring.
He knew.
This whole time, I thought I was doing the right thing. Why hadn’t I just gone to my dad the moment I felt the slightest possibility of there being something between us?
Because I’m a fool, that’s why.
Lane knew the risk of losing his job, and he told Dad anyway.
Is he a bad guy? Or am I just desperate to find a fatal flaw?
Still doesn’t excuse what he said in the bunkhouse. That shit is unforgivable.
Sadie turns to Lane, her voice barely there. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Got caught up in the fun of sneaking around,” he says, grinning at her. “I thought I had more time and you were going to wait until after dessert, but then you went rogue and Wesley decided to narc.” He glares at me. “Dick move, by the way.”
My throat burns.
The hurt etched on Sadie’s face is the final blow, and I know I’ve officially lost her.
After we finish the peach cobbler, I’m voluntold to clean up. A well-deserved punishment.
The sink water is scalding but I barely feel it. My head’s somewhere else—replaying every look, every word, every tear.
My hands are submerged in the soapy water when I feel a prickle on the back of my neck.
I glance over my shoulder to find her leaning against the kitchen island, arms crossed tightly over her chest.
Grabbing the dish towel, I dry my hands and turn around to face her. Her eyes narrow, burning as she drags her gaze over me.
I press my lips into a thin line and brace myself for her to ream me out, but she’s silent aside from her steady, deep breaths.
“I’m sorry,” I say, voice low. It’s not enough, but it’s all I have.
Sadie scoffs, her jaw working as she looks away, slowly shaking her head.
Good. She’s angry. Anger, I can handle. Anger is manageable. She can be angry at me for all eternity if it means she’s not crying.
“I don’t want your bullshit apology,” she bites. “I want to know why.”
Her eyes glisten, and it physically hurts to meet them. Those green eyes are my weakness. Eyes I could get lost in forever. Eyes that could bring me to my fucking knees.
And God, it kills me—because she doesn’t even know the power she has over me.
I thought maybe if I looked long enough, I’d find the part of her that wanted me too.
But all I see is betrayal.
I hesitate, not sure what I could say to make this hurt any less.
How do I admit that I’m jealous? That I couldn’t handle another fucking minute seeing someone else have her?
My silence only seems to rile her up more.
“You knew that I was going to tell Heath today. You fucking knew.” She takes a shaky breath. “I don’t understand. Why do you hate me so much? I am finally getting a sliver of happiness for once in my life. Why would you try to sabotage it?”
The tears break free and spill down her face, and my heart caves in my chest.
She thinks I hate her.
Even if she deserved, it I don’t think I could bring myself to hate her.
But I do hate Lane.
Hate that he gets to touch her, kiss her, make her laugh. I hate that he’s the one she looks for in a crowded room.
How could she ever think I hate her?
“I don’t hate you,” I murmur.
“Then why?” she pleads, voice trembling.
Fuck it. I’ve already ruined everything else.
“Because it should’ve been me.”
The truth claws its way up my throat before I can stop it. I rake my hand through my hair, exhaling deeply.
Her lips part like she’s about to say something, but nothing comes out.
I’ve gone too far, but I can’t stop now. I keep going, diving headfirst into the deep end.
“I should’ve asked you to dance that night. It should’ve been me on the floor with you. Me making you smile. Me who you were pressed against.” I take a breath. “It should’ve fucking been me.”
She stares at me. The slow drips from the kitchen sink echo in the space between us. Her bottom lip quivers and she bites it, trying to hide. But I see.
I notice everything about her.
The hurt in her eyes is agonizing, especially knowing I’m the reason it’s there. She turns away, looking out the dark window.
“Then why didn’t you?” she whispers.
“I thought keeping some distance between us was the right thing to do.” I exhale, the regret heavy in my bones. “I thought I was protecting you.”
She lets out a breath that’s almost a laugh—thin and humorless. “You want to know a secret?”
I nod once, though I’m not sure I deserve to hear it.
“I wanted it to be you, too.”
Before I can fully absorb her confession, she’s already gone, leaving me alone in the silence.
I press my palms against the counter, bow my head, and let out a long breath.
She wanted it to be me?
I had a chance—an actual fucking chance—and I let her slip through my fingers.
Her footsteps thud up the staircase, each fading step like a punch to my gut.
“Happy Birthday, Princess,” I whisper as her door shuts with a muted click.
The sound punches the air from my lungs. Her scent still lingers—warm skin and something sweet—and it’s torture.
My chest aches, my hands curl into fists, and I’m left aching with the need to hold on to something that’s already gone.