The Hustle (Irreparable #4) (23 page)

I
help Tori set up the house to host a huge release party for Second Chances next album. Basically, I keep the kids out of her hair so she can decorate and set food out.

Guests arrive as I sit outside on the deck, supervising the kids as they play on the beach below. I watch my son and his group of friends frolicking in the sand with an overwhelming sense of pride.

“He’s doing well,” Tori says, approaching me with a smile.

“Thanks to you,” I say. Tori was right about Javier learning to deal with bullies and talk it out. His personality wins people over and helps keep Andrew out of fights. It’s funny how much like me and Brady they are.

“Nah, I did the talking, but you were there to do the reinforcing. That’s the hard part.”

“Thanks,” I say with an awkward laugh.

“You should be proud of yourself. You’re a good dad.”

I am proud. Javier isn’t the kid he used to be. He better, stronger, although I don’t know if I can take credit for that. He has his mother’s resolve. “I don’t have a choice.”

“Javier’s good . . . He’s going to be okay. Now it’s time for you to be happy.”

“Are you referring to women?” She nods, smiling. “My dick thanks you, but my heart can’t. Not yet. Besides, I can’t bring someone around if I’m not serious about them. And how can I get serious with anyone without telling them about his mother? That’s a lot to put on someone.”

“What if they already knew?”

“It’d be easier,” I admit, shrugging her off, knowing it would also be impossible. Guerra cleaned up at the mansion. The police were never notified and nothing showed up in the papers. Life went on as though the day never happened.

“Then . . . easier has just arrived,” she says, tipping her head through the sliding glass door.

I look through the glass to the angel I never thought I’d see again. The feeling of being locked tight eases for the first time since Maria died. “What is she doing here?”

“I invited her.” Tori smiles. “It’s time to make dad happy, too.”

“I don’t know what to say to her.” Nerves zip through me as my eyes stay on Peyton. Her gorgeous blonde hair has grown out, reaching down to the curve of her back. I loved her and I may still love her, but everything’s changed. I’m not the man I was then. “She hates me.”

“In my experience, hating you means loving you too. Go talk to her. I’ll keep an eye on the boys.”

Our eyes meet but struggle to stay connected as I push the slider open. My heart swells with the love I never wanted to feel for Peyton. The love I don’t want to feel now. There were times I considered calling her, but what do you say to a woman who you dumped for someone else.
“Hey, the girl I left you for is dead. So . . . You want to pick up where we left off?”
Total bullshit and she would have called me on it.

Even now as I walk toward her and see her smile, welcoming me with reassurance, I know she can’t possibly forgive me. The last time we spoke, I felt how much I’d hurt her. I allowed myself to fall in love with two women and I failed them both.

“Hey.” Hearing her voice stings more than I anticipated. Every ounce of guilt and remorse I’ve ever felt pierces my heart and all I can do is stare at her. While her hair is longer, she looks the same. She’s the same confident and gorgeous Peyton. “It’s good to see you.”

“I’m sorry,” I say, nearly brought to tears by her presence. There should be nothing good about seeing me because I have nothing to say to her that won’t hurt her more than I already have.

“That’s what I was going to say.” Her slumped posture is all wrong. I shake my head, upset that she feels she should apologize for anything. I was wrong. She’s not the same confident woman. She’s simply pretending to be and it’s my fault. “I truly am. I’m sorry about Maria. I know how much you loved her.”

“Can we talk outside?” I ask, looking around at a house mostly filled with strangers.

She nods and then follows me outside the front door. I continue walking until I reach the large oak tree on the side of the house. Peyton follows my lead, sitting in the shade provided by the branches.

Unable to communicate how sorry I am, I sit, staring at my beautiful angel. She makes no effort to remove the golden strands of hair the wind wisps around her face as though they offer a bit of cover from my gaze that I know tells her I’m not ready to be near her.

“I’m moving back home,” she tells me, picking at the long blades of grass by her feet.

My heart shrivels to nothing. I haven’t seen in her in close to a year and I have no right to ask her to stay, but I can’t stand the thought of her leaving San Diego. My thoughts rage a war in my head between begging her to stay and letting her go. She’ll meet someone who deserves her and live a happy, ordinary life like her parents. Still, just being near her makes me feel like I’ve been resurrected, and I selfishly want to keep her close to me until she brings me fully back to life.

“When?” I ask.

She continues pulling at the grass without looking up, which further wreaks havoc on my emotions. I’ve reduced the confidence in her to a point so low it makes me sick. Peyton’s another in a long line of people I failed. I owed her more than I gave her when I left, but I’d been blinded by my own selfish needs. And even now I can only concern myself with how I feel.

“The end of the month,” she answers with her gaze still scanning the grass. That’s only three measly weeks. It’s not enough time, but how many days or months is enough to grieve a loss and open your heart up again? Her head lifts as a smile forms on her perfect pink lips. “Unless I have a reason to stay.”

And there’s the confidence I’d yet to see today, only it comes with a dose of faith I simply can’t give her.

“Peyton . . .” My words catch, knowing what I have to say will erase that beautiful smile.

“I love you,” she blurts, looking as shocked as I am that she said it. “There, now it’s out.”

“I . . .” I’m still too stunned for words and I stare at her with my mouth hanging open. How can she love me? She doesn’t even know me, not the real me.

The stare down continues as I count the number of times my heartbeat leaps begging me to ask her to stay. When I reach one hundred, I can no longer tolerate the disappointment in her eyes. She deserves better, but when I start to stand, her hand pulls on my arm.

“Just hear me out.” I reluctantly sink back onto the grass. I owe her a few precious minutes. “I didn’t want to, but I fell in love with you. And then, I had to let you go. So, I put on my big girl pants and I tried to move on. Tori and I became good friends. I don’t know if you know that?”

I shake my head in answer and frustration that Tori never told me.

“We hung out a lot and I forced myself not to ask about you. Then, one day out of the blue, when I finally thought I was over you, she told me what happened with Maria. I wanted to be there to help you pick up the pieces, but I knew you needed time. And then it was how much time? How long does one wait? One month blended into the next and then the next, but it never seemed to be enough. I never told Tori how I felt, but it’s like she knew. When she found out I was moving, she told me it was time to quit avoiding you. She convinced me to come here and tell you how I feel. So I’m here and I love you and I feel like an idiot because I can’t stop talking and you’re not saying anything.”

I loathe her waiting all this time for me and the hope in her gaze makes my insides crumble.

“You’re not an idiot.” I feel a smile form, but it disappears quickly. “I just don’t know if I’m ready to be with anyone.” I keep from adding especially not with a woman who has the power to destroy the walls I’ve created to protect me.

I stare out into the street until her warm hand pulls my face, forcing me to look at her. “Take a risk?” she says as a question and waits.

Neither of us speaks for a while as I watch a tumbleweed roll along the grass in the wind until it disappears down the street. I tilt my head back, looking at the solitary cloud above my head and remember my mother killing herself. I knew most of what Sheila had done and I took a risk staying quiet, assuming it was best for all of us.

The tall weeds in the field across the street rustle in the breeze as I recall Andrew helpless on the ground after he was struck by a car. He almost died because I took a risk and fell in love with his mother. I glance at Peyton and see Maria as any hope I feel dissolves to nothing. When I couldn’t let Maria go, I risked her life and I lost it all.

Peyton once said she was waiting for a man who deserved her and that man isn’t me.

I fail everyone I ever choose to love.

I always choose wrong.

I
wait what feels like an eternity, staring at brown eyes, richly colored like coffee but without the warmth. Cold and stagnant and devoid of emotion, his expression doesn’t change. I lower my head, prepared to accept he died right along with Maria and that I cannot compete with a dead girl, when he inhales.

“I can’t think when you look at me like that,” he says as his thumb traces my lips.

“Like what?”

“Like you’d love me even if I could never love you back. Like you could forgive me for hurting you.” A small smile curves the side of his mouth, that smirk I’ve come to love and hate. “Like you’re okay?”

My smile grows, remembering how much my being ‘okay’ annoyed him, but his fond expression of the memory is what truly warms my spirit. It’s the window of opportunity I need to convince him the past is behind us and our love is strong enough to build a future. That even if he doesn’t know it, he could grow to love me.

“I am okay and I do forgive you . . . and as far as loving you, I don’t have a choice.”

“A risk?” I nod, smiling as his head dips and inches closer to mine. My eyes close and I inhale in anticipation of the kiss I’ve waited months for. His warm breath skates across my lips before I feel his mouth on mine. He kisses me ever so softly before he says, “I can’t, Peyton.”

My heart deflates as I turn my head, removing his kiss with my hand. The truth is, I lost Aidan to Maria and while she may be gone, she took the man I love with her.

“Okay.” I shrug, fighting the ache in my chest that makes me want to break down in tears and show him that I’ll never be okay.

His laugh doesn’t gel with his woeful expression. I make him happy, I know I do. It’s his stubborn heart, though that’s leading the way, and it belongs to a woman who will never let it go. It’s bound to her with such strong contrition; Aidan will never be able to love again. I never stood a chance.

J
avier and I enter the movie theater with a bunch of his friends and my family to celebrate his eighth birthday. I rented the entire theater for the occasion. It’s one of the new styles with tables and recliners throughout, where you order food off a menu and the staff brings it to your table. Javier and his friends immediately fill a table in the front, far from the adults who hang out near the back.

I feel completely out of place as Tori and Brady dote over Little A, who’s strapped to the table with some sort of modern torture device. He shoves cheese balls up his nose and Tori smacks Brady for encouraging the little guy. He in return smacks her on the ass and kisses her.