Chapter 20
WYATT
It’s Sunday, which means I can’t hang out at home thinking about the way Maddie ran out of here like the hounds of hell were at her heels a matter of hours ago. I’ve got a family dinner to get to.
Nearly every Sunday, my siblings, Mom, and sometimes cousins have dinner at Grayson’s house.
Mom always insists on cooking, so all we have to do is show up and spend quality time—without the pressure of work—as a family.
It never fails to be a good night, and I secretly think Mom enjoys taking care of us. For at least one night a week, anyway.
I’m the last to arrive, and a low chatter fills the house as I let myself in. Grayson’s place is our childhood home. As the eldest, when he was old enough, Mom moved into one of the old buildings on the property, and it was handed down to him.
I make my way through the house, the smell of fried chicken filling the air. My stomach gurgles at the idea of the feast I’m about to devour. With Maddie’s impromptu visit this afternoon, I didn’t have time to grab lunch.
When I enter the kitchen, my attention bounces around the room, landing on Mom. She’s standing at the counter, mashing the potatoes. Her silver-streaked dark brown hair is tied up in her signature bun as she lifts her head and offers me a soft smile.
Crossing the room, I make a beeline for her, dropping a kiss into her hair as I pull her into my side and ask, “Hey, you need a hand with anything?”
She shakes her head. “Just sit back and relax,” she replies, making a shooing motion with her hand.
I squeeze her before moving around the room.
Grayson and Avery are huddled over a laptop at the counter; images of golden beaches and blue skies fill the screen.
They got married last year, and because of how busy they’ve both been—Avery with her tour and recording a new album, and Grayson with everything we do around here—they haven’t had their honeymoon yet.
Throwing my arms around them, I look at the screen and teasingly ask, “Do you need someone else to make this decision for you? Or will you actually pick somewhere and go?”
“Absolutely not,” Avery exclaims without taking her eyes off the screen but moving a fraction closer to it.
“You would be the last person we’d ask if we did. We’d probably end up in a sex cult.” Grayson shudders and I chuckle, clapping him on the shoulder.
“I think secretly you’d both enjoy it,” I call as I turn toward the table.
Gracie is flipping through a folder. She organizes our annual fall festival and likes to get started on prep in the middle of summer. Apparently, you don’t just “throw it together,” which is what I suggested one year and got my ass chewed up about it.
I bend to hug her, but just as my arms wrap around her, she huffs out an annoyed breath and I quickly retreat with my hands up. “It’s good to see you too, Gracie.” I’m guessing Reed has done something to piss her off. He’s usually the cause of her bad moods, and they aren’t even dating.
Kade and Chloe have amused smirks on their faces as I slide into my seat opposite them.
“What’s so funny?” I ask, reaching for the pitcher and filling up a glass with lemonade.
Chloe pulls down the neckline of her T-shirt, tapping a finger on her throat. “You’ve got a little something, right here.”
I wipe at the spot she pointed to. When I pull my hand away and there’s nothing on it, I narrow my eyes at them. “Are you fucking with me because I gave Kade shit the other day?” I look around at the others, but they’re all engrossed in whatever they’re doing.
“It’s right here.” Kade points to his neck, a glint in his eyes.
Again, I wipe where he’s told me, but nothing comes off. Picking up a napkin, I wet it with my spit and scrub at my skin until I’m sure it must be red. It comes away clean. “What is it?”
Chloe leans forward, her expression thoughtful as I stretch my neck for her to see. “I don’t know. What do you think, handsome?” she asks Kade.
“Hmm, I don’t know.”
Panic swirls in my gut and I practically crawl onto the tabletop as I lean over and demand, “Can one of you, please, just get it off?”
“I don’t think that’s coming off,” Kade teases with his beer bottle to his lips, hiding his smirk as he leans back in his chair and away from me.
Pulling my phone out of my pocket, I open the camera app and angle my chin so I can see my neck. Staring back at me is a dark purple bruise.
Fuck me. Maddie Hart gave me a fucking hickey and somehow, I missed it.
“Asshole,” I murmur, running my fingers over the flesh.
A memory of her hands clawing at my skin and diving into my hair flashes through my mind.
Fucking hell. If I wasn’t already seated, it would have knocked me off my feet.
How am I supposed to act like normal knowing what she looks like, tastes like and sounds like when she comes?
Clearing my throat, I slide my phone back into my pocket and adjust the collar of my T-shirt. It’s not going to do shit to cover it, but that’ll teach me.
“Let’s just call it payback for the other day,” Kade replies before twisting his mouth and adding, “I don’t even want to know how you got that, considering it wasn’t there this morning.”
“Good, because it’s none of your damn business,” I snap. The last thing I want to do is disclose my little indiscretion with Maddie this afternoon. But I’m not telling anyone, even if it’s driving me a little crazy. How am I supposed to see her around town and go back to how things used to be?
“Did a certain brunette give it to you?” Gracie asks, a still calmness to her tone, as if she hasn’t just read my mind.
My head snaps to her, but she’s still got her nose buried in that damn folder as she moves a sticky note from one place to another on the page. It takes everything I have inside of me to keep my breathing even and measured.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I lie, my focus zeroed in on her as if she might give me some sort of clue about what she knows.
She bites back a grin as she looks at me and winks. “Sure you don’t, Wy.”
It’s hard to breathe and I don’t know why; it’s not like Maddie and I aren’t two consenting adults. We had sex. I do that all the time.
Gracie doesn’t know. It’s not like my house is near hers, and she never came by this afternoon. Did Maddie tell her? I know that they’re somehow friendly, but enough for Maddie to tell Gracie she had angry sex with her brother? I don’t think so.
Maybe Gracie’s thinking it was from Lilah Evergreen. She’s back in town, and it’s no secret that we hooked up once. Yeah. That’s got to be it.
Reassured, I sigh with relief when Mom calls, “It’s time for dinner.”
I head to the sink to wash up before we eat.
Gracie comes to stand beside me. “So.” She drags out the word as she stares out of the window into the dimly lit yard. “You wanna tell me what Maddie Hart was doing leaving your place this afternoon? Especially considering you then turn up tonight with that.” She points to my neck.
Fucking hell. I was wrong. She does know.
Okay, time to do some damage control.
“I’m not sure what you think you know, but you’re wrong, Gracie. There’s nothing going on between me and Maddie.” Liar.
She twists her mouth, tilting her head as she bores her gaze into the side of my head. “Okay.” She pauses. “Then who gave you the hickey?”
Rinsing my hands, I shake them off before turning toward her. “Nobody. It’s not even a hickey.” Denial. That’s my best course of action here.
She narrows her eyes. “Then what is it?”
I lift a shoulder. “I don’t know, a bruise or something, I guess.”
“A hickey is a bruise, Wyatt. Maybe I should ask everyone else what they think about what I saw.”
Tension fills my body and I’m not sure why. I remind myself again that I haven’t done anything wrong. “What did you see?”
Gracie smirks, crossing her arms over her chest. “Just what I said, Maddie leaving your place and she looked a little… disheveled.”
Fuck.
How do I save this? There’s no way that I’ll ever hear the end of it if Gracie tells the others what she saw. It doesn’t take a genius to put two and two together.
“You didn’t see shit, Gracie.” My pulse kicks up.
She looks so fucking smug. Can I get away with murder in the middle of Sunday dinner? Panic has my pulse racing and nausea rising in my gut.
“Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone.” My body relaxes. “Yet, but this was bound to happen, Wy. You two are at each other’s throats enough that some hate sex was always going to be on the table.”
Something clicks and I rock back on my heels, puffing out my chest, pleased with myself, as I reply, “Well, you’re wrong. Like I said, nothing happened. She was just pissed that I got us the Evergreen land.”
We stare at each other, neither willing to back down.
“Come on, you two, dinner’s getting cold,” Mom calls.
Gracie turns toward the sink, and I amble my way back to the table, a pressure sitting on my chest that I have no clue how to get rid of.
What happened with Maddie was a one-off.
A never-to-be-repeated kind of thing. Even if I can’t get the taste of her off my tongue or the image of her coming out of my mind.
I hate that she’s wormed her way under my skin, leaving behind a mountain of uncertainty.
I’m not the type of guy that brags about the people he sleeps with, but I’ve also never denied having sex with a woman.
Normally, I wouldn’t give two shits about what people think of me, but as I sit here, with my pulse hammering so hard that it’s all I can hear, I feel nothing but a cocktail of guilt, shame, and disappointment.
Not for having had sex with Maddie, but for having told her I’d had better—that was self-preservation—and for denying what we did.
Hell, while I’m at it, I might as well add in the fact she ran away because of me or that I stole her burgundy lace G-string because it’s covered in her juices and I wanted a memento.
All of that’s to say, I think I’ve been a jerk, and that maybe, Maddie didn’t deserve it.
And that’s a problem.