It’s just the way he’s touching her, one arm around her shoulder, his fingers running down the edge of her earlobe.
It’s just the way he’s looking at her. Tenderly, warmly. Like he’s sharing a secret language with her.
A language I’ll never know about.
A language from the heart.
I think I’m at the breaking point.
Without thinking, I get to my feet and blurt out, “I need some fresh air.”
And with everyone’s eyes on me, Vernalee whispering “What’s wrong with her? She looks like she’s seen a ghost” to someone, I quickly get out of the house and into the warm night outside.
It’s dark now and quiet except for the crickets. In the distance, the town of North Ridge glows, the lights giving way to the dark mountain ranges behind it and beyond that, a clear, starry sky.
I immediately feel better but it’s not enough. I need to walk, to get my head on straight, to get my heart to stop caving in.
I head down the slope to the barn. It’s second nature to want to come here during hard times. Growing up, if anyone in the house was fighting—and it was usually Shane and Fox—this was where you’d find them afterwards, licking their wounds.
Right now the barn is empty, all the horses are either in their paddocks or the pastures. I glance up at the hayloft and contemplate going up there when I hear footsteps behind me.
I immediately stiffen. It’s funny how you can feel someone’s specific presence without seeing them.
“What’s wrong with you?” Fox asks gruffly from behind me. Typical. Even if he’s concerned, sometimes he comes across like it annoys him to be concerned.
I take in a deep breath and turn around. “I don’t know,” I say, my voice measured. “Just felt a bit nauseous.”
He studies my face intently, so intently that I look away, my eyes drifting over the empty stalls. “I thought maybe I’d pissed you off somehow,” he says.
Is he baiting me?
I meet his eyes. “Why would you think that?”
“You could barely look at me during dinner,” he says, taking a step toward me until he’s a foot away. “Was it something I did? Is this about Conan?”
He’s so damn earnest in that last question that I have to laugh. I fold my arms across my chest. “No, Fox. This isn’t about your squirrel. It’s not about anything. I’m just…tired.”
I can tell he doesn’t believe me and the intensity has changed in his eyes. They’ve become more focused on me, like he’s seeing me for the first time and nothing else around us matters.
“I like this,” he says, his voice sounding thick. He takes a strand of my hair between his fingers and runs them down. “Your hair is so long. You should wear it down more often.”
I roll my eyes and hope I’m not blushing. “You guys are all the same. A girl wears her hair down and puts on some makeup and suddenly you realize that she’s actually hot. It’s like She’s All That come to life.”
Oh shit. I probably shouldn’t have said that last bit out loud since it’s a whole bunch of assumptions and I’m not one to flatter myself like that.
But he just grins. One of those cheeky, warm smiles that makes his eyes crinkle at the corners, the dimples appear in his scruff. He doesn’t smile like that very often and every time he does for me, it makes me feel…invincible.
“Del, I’ve always thought you were hot,” he says, still smiling. No awkwardness or hesitation. He just comes out and says it.
And now I am blushing. “Yeah right.”
“What?” he asks, tucking my hair behind my ear and—hell—his touch causes warm shivers to wash down my back. “It’s true. I mean, look at you.”
Don’t read into it. Don’t read into it.
“Do you remember that birthday party where we played spin the bottle?” I ask him, my voice sounding broken.
He nods. “Kind of.” But he doesn’t remove his hand, keeps playing with my hair.
I don’t know why I’m feeling brave all of a sudden but I am. “Well you spun the bottle and it stopped right at me. No mistake about it. And you got up and said it was stupid and left. Fox, we were good friends and you acted like kissing me was the worst thing on earth.”
His dark brows knit together but his eyes stay warm. “You remember that?”
“Fox. I’m a woman. I’m always going to remember when a boy rejects me, especially my best friend and especially at a young age.”
“But we were young. And I was pretty stupid back then.”
“You thought I was gross.”
He lets out a soft laugh. “I can promise you I did not think you were gross.” His hand then leaves my hair and trails down my arm to my hand. Sometimes Fox holds it and I know I shouldn’t think anything of it but every time he does I wonder if he realizes what it does to me. Then again, I’m starting to think he’s oblivious to absolutely everything.
“I didn’t kiss you,” he goes on, “not because I didn’t want to. I did.” He swallows, shrugs. “I just didn’t want our first kiss to be from spin the bottle.”
Hold up…what?
“What do you mean? Our first kiss?” I repeat, my pulse quickening.
“I don’t know, Del. Back then, I kind of assumed that we would end up together at some point. You know all through high school I had just been waiting to make my move and ask you out. At least figure out if you liked me or not. But then you started going out with that guy with the big ears, what was his name, Ryan McGee? And that’s when I realized that it was probably all in my head. You were just a friend. A sister, even. And I was just a brother to you.”
Holy. Fucking. Shit.
This is way too much to process.
Fox thought we’d end up together.
He actually liked me back in high school!
“You look shocked,” he says, raising a brow. “I thought it was pretty obvious.”
“Obvious?” I blurt out. “No. No it wasn’t.”
He lets go of my hand and shrugs with one shoulder. “It’s funny how life goes, isn’t it? It was probably for the best anyway. Could you have imagined us dating? Being a couple.”
Yes, fucking yes.
He rubs at the back of his neck, causing the hem of his shirt to rise just a little, showing off an incredibly toned and flat stomach. My cheeks feel like they’re on fire.
He goes on. “I’m sure I would have done something stupid to piss you off and you’d dump me and that would have ruined our friendship. If we had gone out, I doubt we’d be standing here like this today.”
“Rachel and Shane dated in high school and they’re getting married,” I say quietly.
“Darling, you and I are not Rachel and Shane. They barely found their way back to each other.”
I nod. “I’m sure you’re right,” I manage to say.
And he probably is. If he had asked me, I would have said yes for sure. But who knows how long our relationship would have lasted. Fox was even more volatile and cranky in high school than he is now and I was drowning in teenage angst. It probably would have ended in many, many tears.
“So does that answer your question?” he asks.
“About what?” I say, my voice barely a whisper now.
“About whether I think you’re hot or not,” he says, a small smirk on his full lips. “You were the most beautiful girl I’d ever seen back then and I’d be hard-pressed to say that anything has changed.”
Oh my god.
“What are you guys doing?”
Shane’s voice breaks through us and I take a step back, suddenly aware of how close Fox was standing to me.
“Delilah, are you okay?” Shane stops in front of us, his eyes volleying back and forth between us.
“I was just feeling dizzy,” I tell him with a placating smile. “I’m fine now.”
He eyes Fox warily and then nods at me. “Okay. Grandpa is bringing out the good whisky and he said if you both don’t partake, he’s going to be very upset. Honestly, I just t
hink he has indigestion from those potato chips.”
I smile at that and the three of us walk back to the house.
But contrary to what I told Shane, I am not fine.
I’m not even close.
Everything I used to think about Fox and our relationship over the years has now drastically changed with this new bit of information.
All this time I thought he saw me as his sister.
It turns out that couldn’t be further from the truth.
I was the most beautiful girl in the world to him. I was someone who he thought he’d end up with.
And now I’m wondering if there’s even the smallest chance he could want me that way again.
Hope can be so dangerous.
4
Fox
I’ve never liked Altitudes. From the slick modern interior to the overpriced drinks and the scantily clad bartenders and cocktail waitresses, everything about this place seems desperate, including the people who come here. Sure, if you’re young and hip and looking to score, this is probably more fruitful than The Bear Trap, but you aren’t going to find much charm or sincere smiles here. It’s all about posturing and narcissism, everything I hate combined in one room and fueled by alcohol.
Which is why I found it a bit odd that Julie would text me and ask me to meet her here.
Then again, things were kind of strange between us on the drive back from the ranch after dinner last night. I asked if she wanted to spend the night but she stiffly declined, saying she had to be up early to start on some stuff for her upcoming classes. And given that we haven’t yet slept together, I took that rejection rather personally.
So I decided to keep my distance for the day and it was almost dinner time when she texted and asked if I’d meet her for a drink here. You would have thought she would have chosen The Bear Trap, given how much she’d waxed on about the place and Del, but since she’s new in town I decided to give her a pass. She’ll figure out the good places and the bad places soon enough.
When I walk in, I’m immediately accosted by shitty music blaring far too loudly for it being only seven p.m. and the bar isn’t very busy. I spot Julie sitting at a table in the corner, sipping from what looks like a margarita.
I can’t help but smile to myself, thinking about how Del would take it if Julie had asked for that at The Bear Trap. Del prides herself on stocking as few extra ingredients and liqueurs as possible, saying that when it’s just her behind there, making a drink for someone is too time-consuming and pisses off everyone else just wanting a beer. Which is probably true, but I also think that Del just likes things as simple as possible.
“This seat taken?” I ask Julie as a joke, hand on the back of the empty chair across from her. Since we haven’t been dating all that long, things are still a bit fresh and awkward between us and when she looks up at me, a tight smile on her face, I’m thinking that maybe my lame jokes aren’t quite appreciated.
“Have a seat,” she says, and I do, just as the waitress comes by.
“Fox,” the waitress says, giving me a polite smile. “I never see you around here.”
The girl’s name is Pam, someone I went to school with who never ended up leaving the town, much like me.
“Hey Pam,” I tell her. “Wanted a change of scenery. Can I get a beer?”
“What kind?” she asks and then rattles off a ton of them before I stop her and ask for a pale ale.
“You know her?” Julie asks me after Pam goes.
I shrug. “I know everyone. Went to school with her.”
“Did you date her?”
I shake my head. “No. Pretty sure Maverick did for a bit. Then again, if I happen to know everyone, he’s happened to date them.”
“He’s a nice guy.”
“Mav? Yeah. He’s alright.”
“And Shane is nice, too. Very quiet though.”
“That would be Shane. Maverick’s the playboy, or at least he was before he met Riley. Shane’s the quiet, serious one.”
“And what are you?”
It’s an innocent question and one I’m sure all three of us have been asked more than once. But for some reason, I’m drawing a blank. What am I? I used to think maybe I was the brave one but with every day that passes I’m starting to think I might not be that brave at all.
I clear my throat, trying to dispel the sense of unease. “I don’t know. You tell me.”
“I don’t know you well enough,” Julie says before she has a small sip of her drink. She’s so dainty and delicate, every movement she makes reminds me of a baby bird. It makes me feel like I can protect her, like she needs protecting even though I’m sure she doesn’t.
“But,” she continues, “from what I do know, I would consider you brave. There’s not a lot of men out there who will head right into a fire to save land and lives. It’s selfless too. You’re definitely powerful and strong. You’re quite smart. Shane might be quiet, but you’re a lot like him in that way. You’re always thinking and feeling, I can see that, even if I don’t know what it is. You keep a lot of things close to your chest. You’re guarded and that’s okay. It’s natural, especially around people you don’t know that well yet.”
“I don’t know,” I tell her as Pam hands me my beer, “it seems you might know me quite well already.”
Julie leans forward on her elbows, face resting in her hands. She really is a pretty girl. “I’ll tell you one more thing, maybe it’s something that you don’t even know.” Her smile turns crooked, forlorn. “You’re in love with Delilah.”
I stare at her blankly, just blinking for a few moments as I try to process what the hell she just said.
“I’m what?” I manage to say, my hand tightening around my beer.
She sighs softly and twists the margarita around and around, the ice clinking against the glass sides. “So maybe you don’t know it. Or you’re in denial. But I’ve seen the way you are around her Fox and it’s not the way you are with me.”
I open my mouth to say something that I know is going to sound harsh and then I say it anyway. “No offense, but I don’t love you. How could I? I barely know you. You barely know me. That’s apparent now.”
“Look, I know we’re not in love with each other. I’m just saying that you’re in love with her. And because of that, I don’t think we should see each other anymore.”
Fucking hell.
“Julie, you can’t…don’t do this.” I lick my lips, feeling panicked. “You have nothing to worry about with Delilah, she’s just a friend. She’s my oldest friend. She’s like my damn sister.”
She lets out a caustic laugh and leans back in her chair. “Fox, believe me, you can tell yourself this but you don’t look at her like a sister. When I see the two of you together, you’re staring at her practically the whole time like…I don’t know, like she fascinates you. Last night during dinner, you barely ate. You were just watching her as if you were daring her to look at you. She wouldn’t and I have my own theories about that.”
“What theories?”
“It doesn’t matter. The point is, that I can see it even if you can’t. I know she came to your house the other day.”
“Because I told you she did,” I say, not getting the problem. I’ve been nothing but honest with her.
“You wanted her to take care of your squirrel friend, not me. And not that I would because I despise rodents, but you didn’t know that.”
“I didn’t think you were the jealous type,” I grumble. I feel like everything I had is starting to slip through my fingers, the future, a world of what could have been. A way out. A chance at happiness, at peace.
I start massaging my temples, pain starting to spike inside my head. I’d left my pills at home.
“Fox,” she says, softly now. “You’re a good guy. I’m a pretty good and understanding girlfriend. I’m not jealous. I’m just telling you the truth. You and I, we aren’t going to go anywhere. You might think you can get over her by going out with me but I’m telling you,
it’s not working. I was even willing to give you the benefit of the doubt until she ran off at dinner. You didn’t even hesitate. You let go of me like I was deadweight and went after her and then I knew for sure.”
I shake my head, running my hands down my face. There’s a ball of fire rising inside my stomach, growing hotter, blacker with frustration. I hate how everyone always says this. I hate how people allude to it. When the fuck did it change? When did my relationship with Del become something that our friends could speculate about? In the past, no one ever questioned the two of us and now…now I can’t even keep a fucking girlfriend because of Del.
“If you’re asking me to stop being friends with her…,” I start.
“I’m not,” she says quickly. “I’m not that type of person. I just don’t think you’ll ever find anyone or be truly happy until you face facts.”
“Julie, please, seriously.” I reach out and grab her hand across the table, squeezing it. “Just give me another chance. There isn’t much I can say to convince you but you just have to believe me.”
“No,” she says with a sad smile. “I don’t believe you. I only believe that you don’t know it yourself.” She brings her hands out of my grasp and gets to her feet. “I’m sorry Fox. But I deserve to be with someone who can give me a future and your future is wrapped up with her.”
“It isn’t,” I practically cry out, anger racing through me. My fists ball up and it takes everything inside me to keep from pounding them on the table or punching them through a wall. “It fucking isn’t.”
“I’ll see you around, okay?” Julie says and for a moment she looks not just relieved but actually wary of me.
Fuck it. Fine.
She leaves the bar and then it’s me, alone.
I don’t even want to think about what she said, it will only make me angrier and right now I’m so close to exploding. No wonder she looked a bit scared of me.
Pam chooses this moment to come by with a shot of whisky.
“Hey,” she says to me. “That was rough.”
“You heard all that?” I ask, slowly looking up at her though grateful for the whisky.