Loves Me NOT: A Small Town, Second-Chance Romance (Slade Brothers Book 4)
Page 14
“Dean, after my grandpa,” Brennan says with a smile. “Dean Slade has a nice ring, doesn’t it?”
We all agree.
“Drake and I are still thinking. We can’t pick between Trent or Sam. I think a little boy called Sammy would be adorable,” Celeste says, her cheeks turning pink.
“Sam Slade sounds good!” I agree. “Man, you guys are just breeding a whole new generation of Slade men, aren’t you?”
They laugh. “Seems that way. The only girl we have is Milly over there,” Brennan says, turning to look at her.
“She will be the most protected little girl around,” I promise.
Brennan’s eyes go wide. “She already is between her dad and all these uncles.”
Talk is easy with the women. They’re nice and friendly and it’s easy to see how much they care for Wyatt. It’s like he’s their brother, not their brother-in-law. I was worried about being accepted by them, but it feels like I’m already part of the family.
We all sit around and eat grilled chicken, ribs, and burgers. The girls prepared baked beans, potato salad, and deviled eggs. Everything tastes amazing and I stuff myself full. As the night goes on, we all hang out—drinking, talking, laughing, and having a good time. Finally, Wyatt pulls me away and we load up in the car to go back to his place for the night. He reaches over and takes my hand in his, squeezing it gently.
“Thanks for tonight,” I say, lolling my head to the side to see him. His gorgeous face is lit up from the dashboard lights.
“Thanks for coming,” he replies. “I have a feeling everyone was on their best behavior tonight, so don’t be surprised if the next time you see them, Drake is chasing Colton around with a hammer or something.”
“That happen often?”
He laughs. “More than you’d think, but someone’s always around to stop him.”
In the morning, I wake early and take Wyatt’s car to the bakery to get us some breakfast. It also occurs to me that I haven’t even had the time to tell Julie that Wyatt and I are engaged. Two birds, one stone.
I place my order of a half-dozen assorted muffins and two coffees to go. As the girl gets busy with my order, Julie pops out with a smile.
“I thought I heard your voice.”
I lean in and give her a hug.
“How’s your dad?” she asks as she pulls away.
“He’s doing really well. He’s up on his feet and walking around again. He’s not farming, but he’s a lot better than he was. Oh, and I have other news.” I can’t hold back my smile. “Wyatt and I are engaged!” I hold up my hand to show her the ring.
She gasps and jumps up and down, cheering like a schoolgirl. “This is great news! You two are finally where you were always meant to be. Can I be a bridesmaid?”
“Of course. You can be the maid of honor,” I tell her.
“Your order’s ready,” the girl behind the counter says.
“Well, I better get breakfast and his car back home before he wakes up. I’ll call you later. We have a wedding to plan,” I say, grabbing my things and heading for the door.
I’m almost to the car when I hear someone shout my name. “Destiny!”
I’m at the driver’s-side door, but I turn around to find Ashely.
Fuck. It’s too early for this. I “accidentally” roll my eyes as I bend down and put the box of muffins and coffee in the passenger seat.
“I couldn’t help but overhear the news in there,” she says, coming to a stop in front of me.
“Well, you probably could’ve, but my guess is you didn’t want to,” I say, crossing my arms over my chest.
“Guilty,” she says all cute and sweet, shrugging both shoulders. “Anyway, I just wanted to say congrats. This has been a long time coming. I’m so happy you’ve been able to overlook everything.”
“What do you mean?” I ask, knowing I shouldn’t ask, but not able to stop myself.
She nods. “Well, you know. I’m just really glad you were able to overlook the night Wyatt and I had a little while ago. Not many women could do that.”
I shake my head. “That was years ago, Ashely. Why would that bother me?”
“No, I don’t mean that. I meant . . . Mark’s birthday party,” she says quietly, as her eyes look everywhere but at me. “I mean, it wasn’t planned by any means, and it’s not something I’m proud of, but . . .”
“Mark’s party?”
“Oh, you didn’t know? I just assumed he told you. He said you two weren’t an item yet. I just assumed you guys were only messing around.”
This is Ashely. She’s just jealous and trying to take away any happiness I have. That’s what she’s always done. “Ashely, I don’t want to hear your lies right now, okay?” I turn to get in the car, but she grabs the door.
“Look, whatever you two have going on is fine with me. But I’m not lying. Check the pictures on his phone . . . if he hasn’t deleted them. But since he’s a lying cheat, I’m sure he already has.”
She rolls her eyes and walks away, leaving me wondering if she’s actually telling the truth. Ashely is full of lies, but if she knows the truth will hurt you, she’ll gladly tell it. I know one thing for sure though: I’m checking that phone.
21
Wyatt
In the morning, I open my eyes and find her side of the bed empty. I stretch and roll to my back. When my eyes open again, she’s standing at my side.
“Hey,” I say, reaching around her waist and pulling her down to the bed.
“Wyatt, don’t. What the hell is this?” she asks, pulling away and tossing the phone next to me.
Confusion builds inside of me as I sit and pick up the phone. On the screen is a picture of Ashely. She’s lying on my bed, shirt pulled up, exposing her chest. I know it’s my bed because those same gray sheets are on it right now. In the picture, she has a wide smile and her eyes are on the picture-taker.
“I have no idea what this is,” I say, scrolling to the next one. In the next picture, her shirt is completely off and I can see some guy’s jean-clad hips between her bare legs. She’s only in a pair of pink panties. It’s like someone was on their knees between her legs, taking the picture at a downward angle. “I don’t know what this is, Destiny. I swear.” I hit the home button on my phone to make sure this is my phone. It is.
I bring the pictures back up and scroll through them—each one worse than the last. I glance up and see the look of hurt on her face. Suddenly, it hits me. She thinks the guy in this picture is me. The pictures never show his face.
“What do you mean you don’t know what it is? It’s your phone!” Rage is staring to paint her face.
“I know, but I don’t know how these got here. I didn’t take them. I swear, baby.” I reach for her hand but she jerks it away. It may as well be a smack to the face.
“I ran into Ashely today while I was out getting our breakfast. She’s the one who told me to look on your phone. She said that on the night of Mark’s birthday party, the two of you hooked up. She said you told her we were just messing around—that we weren’t actually together.”
“That’s bullshit. I told her over and over that night that we were together,” I argue.
“Well, apparently you didn’t tell her enough.” She turns to leave the bedroom.
I jump up, chasing after her. “I didn’t sleep with her, Destiny! I swear. I was so drunk that night, I wouldn’t have been able to sleep with you if you were here—I would’ve passed out first. I don’t remember how I got home. All I know is that I woke up and my phone was gone. I left it at the bar and the bartender had to give it back the next day. I have no idea how those pictures . . .” My sentence breaks off.
The bartender told me that Ashely and Mark took me home. Mark said they carried me to bed. Is it possible the two of them took these pictures in my bed? Then took my phone back to the bar with them? Why would they do that?
“I knew this was wrong. All we’re doing is repeating the same mistakes from the past.” She walks out,
slamming the door behind her. I don’t follow after her. I can’t. Right now, all I can think about is how my best friend fucked me over. Or maybe Ashely manipulated him too. I want to tell Destiny the truth, but first, I have to find it myself.
I call Mark and he answers on the third ring. “Hello?”
“Hey, man. What’s up?”
“Oh, nothing. Just hanging out. What’s up with you?”
“I have to ask you a question and I need you to be completely honest with me, okay?”
“All right, shoot.”
“The night of your birthday party, you said that you and Ashely took me home and got me in bed, right?”
“Yeah, that’s right. What’s this about?”
“Tell me everything that happened.”
“What do you mean? We carried you up the stairs and put you to bed. Well, first, you had to run to the bathroom and puke your brains out, but then we put you in bed and left.”
“Did the two of you mess around that night? In my bed?”
“Oh, man,” he mumbles. “She told you? I fucking told her not to tell you. I knew you’d be pissed about me screwing some girl in your bed. I’m sorry, bro. I was a little tipsy and you know Ashely. She’s easy. I couldn’t turn it down.”
I breathe a sigh of relief. “Did you happen to take pictures?”
He laughs. “Oh yeah, I forgot about that. I wonder if she’d send them to me.”
“So you took them on her phone?”
“Yeah. She asked me to take them . . . said it got her going.”
So Ashely drove me home and managed to get her hands on my phone along the way. That’s the last fucking time I don’t keep a passcode on it. Then, she used Mark to take the pictures. She and Mark went back to the bar after messing around and putting me to bed, then she made sure to give my phone to the bartender so I could retrieve it there. I wonder why she didn’t just leave it here . . .
“Thanks, man,” I say, hanging up the phone and scrolling through more pictures.
After the pictures of Ashely, I find more pictures from the bar: photos of Mark and other guys we went to school with. There are pictures of people doing body shots, playing pool, dancing. She must’ve taken the phone back to the bar to bury her pictures. She knew if they were the first images on my phone, I’d find and delete them. But if she buried them, I’d probably never notice.
I shake my head, remembering that Destiny didn’t drive here. Then I rush upstairs and pull on some clothes before running out to my car. No way am I letting her walk all the way home. She only left 10 minutes ago, so she has to be close. I drive until I find her walking along the road. I stop the car at her side.
“Destiny, get in. You can’t walk the whole way.”
“No. You seriously think I’m going to get into a car with you right now?” She crosses her arms over her chest.
“Please? Look, I didn’t take those pictures. Mark did. She was with him on my bed that night. Not me.”
She stops and rolls her eyes. “You really expect me to believe that?”
“Yes! Do you really think I’d cheat on you? With her? I don’t want anyone but you, baby. It’s always been you. I never wanted anyone else before.”
I see her anger start to fade. Finally, she reaches for the car door and opens it. “Take me home, Wyatt.”
I shift into drive.
I don’t know what else to say to convince her. “Look, that night, I was smashed. I had to ask the bartender how I got home. She was the one who told me I left with Mark and Ashely. They had to carry me up to my room.”
“So what? You were just lying there passed out while they had sex in your bed?”
“No, I was in the bathroom, praying to the porcelain gods,” I tease, but she doesn’t think it’s funny. Instead of laughing, she rolls her eyes.
I reach for her hand, but she tugs it away. I take a deep breath. “Please, let me touch you. I haven’t done anything to hurt you.” I pull into her driveway and park the car.
She pulls her eyes from mine. “I just need some time, Wyatt. Okay? Please, just give me time to cool down. We’ll talk later.” She opens the door and climbs out. I sit back, watching her go. I’m afraid to give her time. What if she decides she doesn’t want to be with me? Or what if she decides I’m not worth all the trouble I bring into her life?
On the other hand, I’m afraid that if I keep pushing, I’ll piss her off and make her run again. I don’t want her running from me. I want her running to me. I’ll give her the day. She can have all day to realize how much I love her, and how much she loves me. I know she won’t let this shit get to her again. She’s learned so much. She knows what she means to me, doesn’t she?
I pull out of the drive, heading back to town. Instead of going into work or drinking the day away at the bar, I go straight home. I sit on the couch and pour a tall glass of whiskey. At first, I feel confident. I know that Destiny will think things through and be rational. She loves me. She knows how much I love her—how badly I want to spend the rest of my life with her. But the drunker I get, the more worry seeps in. What if she doesn’t believe me? What if she believes this crazy lie? I mean, Ashely did a good job setting all of this up. Her proof is literally on my phone. I’m surprised my phone didn’t catch a virus just from having her pictures on it. That reminds me. I pull out my phone and delete all of the pictures from that night.
I wonder how Ashely even got her hands on my phone, but then I remember I don’t even recall going home, so it probably wasn’t that hard to swipe it. For all I know, she dug it out of my pocket while I was passed out or something.
Even with my vision blurring from the whiskey, I can’t stop myself from dialing Destiny’s number. The phone rings and rings, instantly taking me back to the day after prom. A gnawing feeling eats at my gut. What if Destiny doesn’t believe me?
Between the stress and the booze, I end up passing out with the phone in my hand, willing it to ring.
I wake late the next afternoon. At this point, a hangover should be my best friend. However, it’s still my old nemesis. My head pounds, my stomach flops, and my neck is stiff from sleeping on the couch. Doing my usual walk of shame, I head for the shower in an attempt to wash away the hangover. After an hour-long shower, I head to the kitchen to make the world’s strongest cup of coffee and something to fill the void in my stomach. After drinking half a pot of coffee and eating a whole box of frozen waffles, I make my way back to the living room to clean up my mess.
An empty bottle of whiskey lies on the floor, cap missing. My clothes are scattered around the room, and there are chip crumbs all over the couch. I get busy cleaning in the hope of keeping her off my mind. The only thing she asked for was time. I want to respect her wishes, but why couldn’t she have asked for something easier?
By 2 p.m., I’m pacing back and forth, nearly wearing the varnish off the hardwood. I need to talk to her, see her, touch her. I try calling her cell, but it goes straight to voicemail. I give in and call the old house phone. I’ve known the number by heart since I was 16.
“Hello?” Mrs. Parker answers.
“Good afternoon, Mrs. Parker. It’s Wyatt. By any chance, is Destiny there?”
“Hello, Wyatt. How are you doing, hon?”
I let out a long breath. “Not great. I’m afraid Destiny is mad at me. Is she there?”
“She is, but she’s out in the field. Danny wanted to take a ride on his horse, and of course, he couldn’t go alone. I can give her your message when they return,” she offers.
“That’d be great, Mrs. Parker. Work on her for me, would ya?”
She laughs. “What’s the problem this time? You didn’t get drunk and kiss the wrong girl again, did you?” I had no idea she even knew about that.
“Not exactly,” I mumble. “There was some pretty convincing evidence placed on my phone without my knowledge. The girl who did it told Destiny right where to find it. She’s now convinced I’ve been unfaithful to her. You know more than anyone how m
uch I love her.”
“I do,” she agrees. “Who was it that did all this?”
I laugh. “I’m sure you don’t know her, Mrs. Parker.”
“I bet it was that Ashely Smithston, wasn’t it? This is so like that girl. She’s no better than that gold-digger mother of hers.”
“Whoa, Mrs. Parker!” I think my eyes double in size as my mouth is left hanging open.
“Well, I’m sorry, but it’s the truth and we all know it. You know I once caught that woman trying to steal Danny? Right under my nose, too!”
I shake my head. “I didn’t know that, Mrs. Parker.”
“Well, it’s true. That whole family is a damn mess. It’d be nice if a single one of them wasn’t a whore, thief, or drunk.”
I laugh. “Okay, Mrs. Parker, I think I should go now.”
“Oh, of course, dear. I’ll tell Des that you called. Buh-bye,” she hangs up sounding just as cheery as she did when she answered. Even with my shitty mood, I can’t help but laugh at the things she said about Ashely and her family.
22
Destiny
As I ride behind Daddy, I can’t help but space out, getting lost in my own head. I’m wrapped up in thoughts of Wyatt and the things that happened between us. Something deep inside me doesn’t want to believe what Ashely said. I can’t. It’s just . . . it’s all so perfect. I’m sure that’s what she thought, too: it’s a perfect plan. But it’s too perfect. If Wyatt did those things, I think I would’ve known. I would’ve felt a difference between us that next day—or any day thereafter—when we got close. He never let on, which means it probably didn’t happen.
But at the same time, what if it did? I was afraid that Wyatt was just attached to the idea of us being together, getting married, and having kids. But every moment between us felt real. I could feel his love and passion. He wasn’t acting. I know him well enough to know when he says something he doesn’t mean. It doesn’t happen often, but there’s been a time or two when I’ve seen him do it with others. He can’t lie to save his life. Every word he’s ever said to me has been truthful. Why should now be any different?