Chapter 44
SAWYER
“This thing is the weight of a thousand suns,” Will grunts.
“You’re the one who wanted to move it with the drawers in,” I heave.
“Because I’m efficient.” He wheezes the last word as we lower the dresser onto the floor of my bedroom.
“Pretty sure it was because you didn’t want to make multiple trips down the hall.” It comes out testier than I intend.
He shoots me a flat look, and I’m instantly aware of how much time my brother’s put into this place with me, and how much my bad mood is not Will’s problem.
This whole week, I’ve stayed away from the teachers’ lounge and ignored the urge to text Brie. And you know what that means? It means we’ve had zero contact.
Because she hasn’t sought me out.
She hasn’t come to me to explain why she left me at the bowling alley with her friends.
She hasn’t come to me to break things off.
And she sure as hell hasn’t come to see how I feel about any of it.
I’ve made it all too easy for her to ghost me, and she’s, apparently, perfectly happy with that. It’s clear now: not only will she never love me the way I love her, but this was never about feelings for her. Probably just convenient sex.
But none of that is Will’s problem.
Clearing my throat, I say, “I take it back. Thank you, Mr. Mayor, for your generosity.” Despite the title, which I’m required to throw in as his little brother, I mean every word.
He rolls his eyes and heads back to the living room. “I’m just glad you’re not out with that Casey girl right now.”
I reel. Even with my complicated feelings about Brie, the way he calls her that Casey girl rankles. “Her name is Brie.”
Will huffs as we lift my headboard and walk it down the hall. “What I mean is, I was starting to worry you were getting attached to Brie. I’m glad you’re here, doing something that really matters.”
I do a double take at Will, shocked by his words. Yeah, this cabin’s important to me, but we’re talking about a person. Maybe I don’t matter to her, but she really mattered to me.
Mattered. I roll my shoulders and shake my head. As much as I keep trying to put whatever we had in past tense, it isn’t.
Brie still matters to me. One week can’t change that.
Voice hard, I say, “I’d like to know what you have against Brie because you sound a little too much like Dad right now.”
Will cracks his knuckles, a sure sign he’s mincing his words. “I don’t have anything against her.”
I sense a but coming. For the first time, I get the brotherly urge to pummel him right in that pretty-boy face of his, see if I can’t knock some of that perfectly-styled hair out of place for once.
He inhales. “But” —I fold my arms and he catches the gesture— “how well do you really know her?”
“Pretty damn well,” I sneer.
But it isn’t true. She never let me in deep enough to really know her, constantly keeping a wall between us.
Fuck. One week is all it took to show how little she cares about me. I’ve been chasing her this whole time, initiating every interaction between us. But without me prompting it, it’s like I don’t exist. She’ll never be the one to come to me.
Will seems to see right through me. “How well do you know any of the Caseys?”
I frown. What the hell do Brie’s sisters have to do with this? “Mara helped with the computers at school. She can be shy, but she’s really polite and sweet.”
Will levels me with a blunt look like I’m an idiot. “Not the youngest one. The rest of them.”
And that’s when I know Will’s grasping at straws. Without answering, I head back toward the living room to move the rest of the bed frame.
“You know their dad was the town drunk, right?” he calls as he follows me. “Blue Ridge was an eden until he went off the rails, disrupting order, picking fights, making the whole town stink like cheap bourbon.”
I whirl around. “What does this have to do with Brie?”
“The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree,” he says dismissively as he squats to pick up the rest of the bed frame.
I don’t move. “You do sound like Dad. This is exactly the kind of classist bullshit I thought you were above.”
He stands to his full height. I’m bigger than he is by a lot of pounds, but he’s taller.
He points a stern finger at me. “I’m not Dad, and it’s a valid question.
You’re too young to know it, but he was a hustler and a scammer.
Cost the town hundreds of thousands of dollars we never got back.
And here’s his oldest daughter, a college drop-out living in the most affluent neighborhood, as a single mother?
Doesn’t add up. Then the middle one’s back in town all of a sudden, and has you wrapped around her finger?
Does she even know you don’t have an inheritance coming your way?
Because if not, you might tell her, see how quick she disappears.
” He sighs. “That youngest one seems honest enough, but I wouldn’t trust the others one iota. ”
Almost all of this is news to me, but it doesn’t matter.
Protectiveness creeps through me, and not just for Brie.
“They have names.” It’s almost a growl. “And Gia is a damn good mother.” My voice rises.
“She’s always the first to volunteer her time.
She’s the approved pick-up parent to at least five kids who don’t belong to her so they have someplace to go when their parents do a double. ”
This seems to stun him, but only for a second. He scoffs. “Don’t start with me on her. You don’t see her at the city council meetings. She doesn’t exactly support what’s good for the community.“
“There it is.” I squat for the frame, and Will automatically does the same. “You don’t like that she makes your job harder.”
As we heft it back to the bedroom, he says, “That’s not it.
I don’t trust her” —I drop the wood before he’s ready, making his next words strained— “and I don’t think she came by that house honestly.
I mean, do you know what she does for a living?
And how anyone can entrust their child to her is beyond me.
I saw her coming out of the tattoo parlor with her daughter last week. ”
A burst of anger shoots through me. “You can’t seriously think she let Lizzie get a tattoo.” God, the insanity of it. “And you can’t seriously hold their piece of shit father against those women.” I look pointedly at him, willing him to draw the parallels here.
His jaw clenches. “That’s different. You and I are nothing like Dad. Gia is basically a tiny version of hers, but sharper in every way. I’ve seen her hustle, and not that long ago. I know what I’m talking about here. And Brie—”
“Brie’s important to me,” I interrupt with a rasp.
“I don’t know if I’m the one for her, but she’s the one for me” —my heart stops for an instant.
The one for me— “and if that’s a problem because of some grudge you had against their father, or a crazy conspiracy you have against Gia, then you’ve got two options: you can keep it to yourself, or I’ll see you at the monthly dinners with Dad, and only then. ”
And I mean it. Regardless of where Brie and I stand, I won’t put up with Will’s bigotry.
He scrubs a hand over his jaw. “Okay,” he grits out. “Where’s your screwdriver.”
I’m suddenly aware of how fast I’m breathing, that my hands have tightened into fists, that I’m grinding my molars in irritation. Except it’s not just irritation at my brother.
What I said is true. Brie is the one. And, what? I’m going to let her ghost me?
No. I love her, but if she can never love me back, if she’s willing to just leave, then she needs to say it to my face. There’s a limit to my patience, and I’m there. I’m done.
And if she won’t come to me, then I’m going to her one last time.
“You know what?” I tell Will, “I’ve gotta go.”
With determination, I stride across the room for my wallet and keys. Next to the front door is the old shoebox I scrounged up while putting the cabin back to sorts. When I found it, I worried what would happen if I gave it to her. It could make or break our relationship.
But now, I’m past the point of worrying.
Will holds his hands up. “Hey, I mean it. I’m sorry.”
I turn. “We’re fine. But, really, I’ve gotta go. I have to talk to Brie.”
His brow furrows and he uses his thumb to crack the knuckles on the same hand. “All good?”
Rubbing the back of my neck, I say, “I don’t know. The silver lining is: if it isn’t, I won’t force you to get along with Gia.”
One eyebrow ticks up. “I don’t know what to wish for, then.”
“Wish for a close personal relationship with Gia. For my sake.”
Will flashes that million-dollar smile everyone seems to love. “I could wish for it all my days, it’ll never happen. But good luck anyway.”