Wildflower (Colors #4) (28 page)

The backs of my eyes began to sting as I blinked back the tears that were threatening to fall. “He looked… broken?”

“Ravaged,” she answered sympathetically. “I was standing near the stairs when he walked out of the living room. I wanted to cry when I saw his face. I don’t know if I’ve ever seen a man look so wrecked in my life. And I’m engaged to one of the moodiest men in the country.”

“Really?” I asked quietly, the sound of my heart breaking so loud in my ears I was sure my friends could hear it. “He looked like that?”

“Oh, honey,” Navie cooed, reaching over to pull me into a hug when I lost my battle and the tears broke free. “Why are you doing this to yourself if this is how sad it makes you?”

“I-I’m scared,” I hiccupped through a sob.

Chloe reached over the counter and took my hand in hers. “You can’t keep pushing people away because you’re scared of getting hurt again. Look at yourself, look at what it’s doing to you. Can you honestly say you’re happy living the way you’re living? Taking a risk and getting hurt couldn’t feel any worse than this, could it?”

“I-I’m not scared of g-getting hurt,” I sniffled. “I’m s-scared of losing h-him again.” Pulling away from Navie, I sat up and sucked in a deep breath, attempting to get control of my emotions. “It’s the thought of having the comfort that comes from being with Noah, that security and happiness I felt the first time, and getting used to it only to have it ripped away again.
That’s
what I’m the most scared of.”

“But what if it’s not taken away from you?” Navie asked. “What if you get all of that, and this time, you get to keep it forever? Answer a question for me. Don’t think about it, just answer. Is the shot at a lifetime with Noah worth it?”

“Yes,” I answered without so much as blinking.

Chloe’s hand gave mine a squeeze. I turned my watery gaze to her to see her smiling. “Then take the risk, Low-Low.”

By the time Navie left to go back to New York the following morning as I was getting ready for work, I wasn’t feeling much better, physically and emotionally. I still hadn’t shaken the morning sickness or exhaustion, and I was nursing a bruised heart on top of all of that, so having to go in and teach was a nightmare.

I felt horrible for not making my friend’s trip more fun, but Navie swore the only reason she flew from New York to Wyoming was to spend time with me, and since that’s what she got to do, she was happy.

I spent the day trying to keep from hurling on my poor, unsuspecting students and spying for Noah in the halls between each class. The fact that I hadn’t laid eyes on him once left me discouraged by the time I headed home.

I was alone in the living room, the TV turned to a show I wasn’t focused on because my attention was on the cell phone sitting silently in my hands. The same phone that had remained silent since my and Noah’s fight over twenty-four hours before. The same phone I’d looked at approximately eleventy billion times, willing it to ring with the power of my mind.

On the TV, Dwight Schrute was being his typical self, bitching about something Jim had done or was going to do in the near future. Usually, I was all for cramming as many episodes of
The Office
into a day as possible. I’d gotten hooked when Navie and I had lived together. The show was her guilty pleasure and had quickly become mine as well. But I couldn’t bring myself to pay attention to the hilarious shenanigans of the Dunder Mifflin employees.

“Oh, fuck it,” I muttered to myself as I swiped the screen and brought my phone to life. Scrolling through my text messages, I opened the thread between me and Noah, taking a few minutes to reread some of the ones that made my heart flutter. God, I missed him.

I tapped on the little box and watched the cursor blink while I thought about what to say.

Me: I’m sorry
, I typed, immediately deleting it and starting over.

Me: I was an idiot.
Nope, not strong enough. Delete.

Me: I love you.
But that wasn’t really something I wanted to say to him over text for the first time. Delete.

In the end, I went for simple and honest.

Me: I miss you.

I hit send then instantly freaked! “Shit!” My shout filled the room. I clicked in the settings on my phone, frantically trying to find any way to recall a text message. Unfortunately, technology was an asshole and the people at Apple were with the times enough to update their phones every two days to keep us wanting more, but those motherfuckers couldn’t be bothered to install a recall button? Sons of bitches! They’d definitely be getting a scathing email from me.

“Shit, shit, shit. Fuck my life!” I groaned.
I miss you
? Could that have been any lamer? I wouldn’t have been surprised if he read that message and automatically deleted it. Even
I
knew how hypocritical it came off sounding, since I was the one that pushed him away in the first place. It made it look like I was trying to play mind games, which so wasn’t the case.

Calling up another message, I quickly typed, hoping to explain away my vagueness.

Me: I’m sorry. That sounded pathetic. I do miss you, but I’m also sorry. This is all my fault. I don’t blame you if you don’t want to talk to me. I screwed up. I’m so so sorry, Noah.

I hit send again before I could talk myself out of it, and then threw the phone to the other side of the couch like it burned my hands.

I turned, unseeing, to the TV, attempting to focus on my show to no avail. Finally giving up, I snatched the remote up and clicked the power button, making the screen go black. I couldn’t just sit there and hope for my phone to chime with a response. I needed to
do
something. And in that moment, I knew exactly what that
something
was. Noah wasn’t the only guy in my life I needed to talk to.

“Ethan,” I called toward the stairs where my brother had disappeared a few hours earlier. It went unanswered.

I headed up the steps. “Ethan? You awake, shrimp? We need to talk, sweetie.”

No answer.

I kept talking as I hit the landing and made my way to his door. “Look, I know you’re mad at me, but you can’t keep avoiding me.”

I knocked. Still nothing.

I grabbed hold of the knob and twisted. “Come on. It’s been weeks. This is getting out—”

My words froze in my throat as my eyes scanned the empty bedroom. “Ethan?” Panic gripped my chest as a thousand and one different, completely irrational scenarios bounced around my head. Starting with child abduction and ending with him spontaneously disappearing into thin air.

Then it hit me.

The bedroom window was open. The same bedroom window with a large oak tree right outside of it. The same oak tree I’d climbed down a million times to sneak out and meet Noah.

“Son of a bitch!” I growled, racing from the room and back down the stairs to my phone. “He’s
so
dead,” I said to no one.

Grabbing my phone from its place on the couch cushion, I pulled up the handy-dandy
find my phone
app I’d installed after Ethan’s little brush with the law. I hadn’t ever expected to actually
use
the damn thing, but seeing as Ethan was acting extremely out of character, I wasn’t taking any chances.

Turned out my gut instinct was on point.

I got a lock on his location and was out the door in a matter of seconds.

I was going to hunt my little brother down and kick his ass.

I miss you?

What the fuck was that?

The longer I studied Harlow’s text, the angrier I got. What fucking right did she have to text that she missed me when us being separated was
her
fault?

Tossing it down on the coffee table, I lifted my half-empty beer bottle to my lips and sucked down the rest of it as I looked back at the hockey game on my flat screen. A few minutes later, my phone chimed with another notification. I ignored it. My gut told me whatever she had to say would only piss me off more.

I left the couch only long enough to get myself another beer from the fridge, adding the bottle to the many already littering my messy living room. Since my last conversation with Harlow, I hadn’t been in the mood to tidy up my house. Soda cans, an empty take-out container, and a pizza box lay among the bottles. I was only on my second beer of the night, but that didn’t mean I hadn’t worked my way through a case the day before.

A satisfying hiss traveled from the bottle as I gave the cap a twist and brought it to my lips. Sitting back against the couch, I propped my feet up on the coffee table and settled in for a long night with nothing to look forward to.

Just as I got comfortable, my phone rang. I ignored it, hoping whoever it was would get the hint and leave me alone.

No such luck.

The call ended only for the ringing to start back up again.

I dropped my feet and grabbed my phone. With a look at the screen, I swiped my thumb across it, ready to cuss Derrick out for interrupting my solitude.

“Dude, take the fuckin’ hint when I don’t answer the first time.”

He chuckled in my ear. “Sorry to interrupt your nightly jackoff session, but I figured you might want to get your ass out here.”

“You thought wrong. You wanna find pussy for the night, you’re on your own. I’m not in the mood to be your wingman.”

“Not that I’d ever need one, asshole, but I’m not calling for that.”

I huffed out a frustrated breath. “Then we’re having this conversation
why
?”

“Because you’re girl’s gearin’ up to storm into a house party full of teenagers and rain a lifetime of embarrassment down on her little brother who, apparently, snuck out of the house after being grounded, and I quote, ‘for the rest of eternity’. Gotta say man, she’s shit hot when she’s feisty, but I’m a little concerned about the well-being of every kid at that party right about now.”

“Son of a bitch,” I grumbled, running a hand through my hair and getting to my feet. “Why are you there?”

“Tracked her little bro’s phone. Called me to inform me she was about to commit justified homicide, whatever the fuck that is, if I didn’t get my ass down here. I looked up the address she gave me and saw it was one of your boys. I’m guessin’ the entire team’s probably in there. Hence, the reason for the call to you.”

Shit just seemed to be going from bad to worse for me the past few days. “Fuck me,” I groaned as I snatched my keys up and headed out to my SUV. Text me the address. I’ll be there in few. Whatever you do, do
not
let her go in that house until I get there.”

“You got it, brother. But I suggest you hurry. From the looks of it, I’d say she’s approximately two-point-five seconds away from her head exploding.”

“I’m on my way.”

I hung up, jumped in my car, and pulled out just as the address came through on my phone.

It was going to be a long night.