Catching Cassidy

by Melissa Foster

  “I know. I feel the same way.”

  “I want to make sure the schedules are right, the inventory. I want to be sure Dutch and Charley and the others are all taken care of.”

  “I like the time-off request forms we came up with.” Delilah tucks her hair behind her ear. “That should help alleviate your desire to be the good guy and let everyone off work on the same day.” She pokes my ribs.

  “Hey!” I laugh.

  “Face it, Wy. We’re growing up.” Her eyes well with tears, and her voice trails off.

  I pull her closer. “It’s okay, Dee. We’re supposed to.”

  I feel a heavy hand on my shoulder and look up at Tristan.

  “Two of my favorite people.” Tristan pats Delilah on the head. “Scoot over, sister. I need a little love.”

  We separate, and Tristan sits between us.

  “What’s up, Tris? Having Ian regrets?” I hand him the beer I was drinking.

  “No regrets about Ian. Just feeling like I haven’t spent enough time with you two. I mean, don’t get me wrong, getting eyefuls of you and Cassidy is tasty, but…”

  I punch him in the arm, even though I know he’s just kidding.

  “Hey, it’s not me who can’t keep his clothes on.” Tristan laughs.

  “That would be me.” Brandon comes outside shirtless and barefoot, wearing a pair of low-slung black jeans.

  “Have you moved in, too?” Delilah scoots closer to Tristan and pats the step beside her.

  Brandon sits down, takes the beer from Tristan, and guzzles it down. “Ahh. I stay here sometimes.”

  “Yes, well, I know that. Where do you actually live these days?” Delilah asked.

  Brandon shrugged. “I guess here most of all, but sometimes I stay at Brent’s or I go home with a hookup. Why?” He looks at me. “Just tell me if it’s a problem, Army. I’ll take off. And I’m sorry about the ménage the other night.”

  “Whatever, dude. Just keep it behind closed doors.” I don’t care what Brandon does with his sex life, but I don’t need to see him in action.

  Tristan arches a brow at me. I laugh.

  “How about you, hon?” Tristan asks Delilah. “Are you coming home, or what?”

  She shrugs. “Right now I’m enjoying staying with Brooke and hanging out with Ash. I’ll be back, but the therapist thinks it’s a good idea for me to be on my own for a while. Well, not really on my own, but you know what I mean.”

  I reach across Tristan’s lap and squeeze Delilah’s hand. “Whatever you need, Dee. Come back when you’re ready. This house is as much yours as it is mine, as is the bar and everything else they left us.”

  “I go in to take a shower and you guys have a party without me?” Cassidy crosses the deck and crouches behind me. “Hey, Delilah.”

  “Hi, Cassidy. Have you spoken to your parents? Feeling any better?”

  I turn and notice Cassidy’s eyes become serious.

  “Yeah, I spoke to them yesterday morning.”

  “You did? You never mentioned it.”

  She looks down and fidgets with her toe ring. “Um, yeah. You were at work. I guess I forgot. We talked, and they didn’t really say much more about the divorce. They said they just grew apart, but I’m thinking about taking the job in New York.”

  The world falls out of focus. “You are?” This isn’t something I want to discuss with everyone looking at me like they pity me.

  She nods. “Thinking about it. I haven’t decided. I’d see my parents more, and they’re right about the opportunity. There would be lots of career growth. It’s a big city.”

  I rise to my feet, trying to tamp down the hurt and anger warring within me.

  “Who are you convincing, Cass? Us or yourself?” It’s a dick thing to say, and I regret it the minute I say it.

  Tristan touches her foot. “Is that what you want?”

  She shrugs. I’m so sick of shrugs I could puke. Is it that hard to answer a damn question? I have to escape before I say something else I shouldn’t, like asking Cassidy why she’d believe a word her parents said, or why, if she wants career growth in accounting, she doesn’t apply to one of the larger companies here in Harborside.

  “I’m tired. I’m heading up to bed.” I walk around the deck to the outside steps, ignoring the calls of the others. I’m halfway up the deck stairs to the second floor when I hear Cassidy running after me.

  “Wait. Wyatt.” She hurries up the stairs and follows me into my bedroom, then pulls the doors closed behind her. “Wyatt.”

  My entire body feels like it’s on fire, and not in a good way. “What, Cass?”

  Her sorrowful eyes find mine, and I know she sees how angry I am. But it’s not just anger that I’m feeling. It’s sadness, too, only I’m so sick of being sad that I can’t deal with it.

  “I didn’t make a final decision yet.” She hooks her finger in the waist of my pants and looks up at me. I can’t stay angry. One look and her eyes pull me under her spell.

  “Didn’t you?”

  “Not really, and besides, you said we could make it work even if I went to New York, so why are you so mad?”

  I turn away from her, feeling like a prick for my reaction, but the thought of being away from Cassidy is painful enough. I can’t imagine it coming true, not after we just found each other. I want to push the thought of being apart away and kick the shit out of it.

  “Wy?” She wraps her arms around me from behind, and I force all of my feelings to remain at bay while I turn to face her.

  “I’m sorry. Yes, I said we could make it work, and we will. But I feel like an outsider, Cass. You told me to stay out of your decision. We don’t even talk about it, and then you come down and drop that bomb, that you’re seriously considering it, when we’re with everyone else?”

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for it to come out like that.”

  “How did you mean for it to come out?” I hold her stare until she drops her eyes to my chest, then presses her forehead to it and shrugs.

  “Stop shrugging.” Despite how upset I am, I wrap her in my arms, because above all else, I want to be with her. I want to protect her and love her, and even though I’m hurt, it doesn’t change any of those feelings.

  “I’m sorry. I just…”

  I press a kiss to the top of her head and hug her against me. “It’s okay, Cass. I just want to be part of your life. I don’t want to feel like an afterthought.”

  She looks up at me. “You’re anything but an afterthought. This isn’t easy for me, either.”

  “I thought you realized that you didn’t like accounting very much anymore.” I take her hand, and we sit on the bed together.

  “I don’t.”

  My tone softens because I fear she’s trying to gain her parents’ approval, and it kills me that they still have that hold on her.

  “So what are you doing, Cassidy?”

  She pulls her hand from mine and fidgets with the blanket. I wish she didn’t look so conflicted.

  “If you were one hundred percent on board with this job, I’d understand, but you’re not, Cassidy. Anyone can see that. So that means you’re using it as a way to get away from me, that you’re considering it for a reason other than the work.”

  She gets up, and I take her hand in mine and pull her down on my lap. “I’m a thickheaded guy, remember? You need to clue me in if there’s something going on between us that I don’t know about.”

  “There’s not. I promise. I love you, Wyatt.”

  “Then what is it, babe? Is it your parents?”

  Her face flushes, and it’s all the answer I need.

  “Aw, Cass. They’ve got you under their thumb, babe. You’ve been down that road before.”

  “Don’t, Wyatt. Just don’t go there.” She stands and walks to the bedroom door.

  My gut clenches. “I can’t sit by and watch them do this to you again, Cass. I know you don’t want to hear it, but they aren’t good to you. You’re worth more than the few seco
nds of attention they give you.”

  “Gosh, Wyatt. You’ll say anything to get me to stay.”

  I reach for her, but she backs away and into the hall.

  “Will I, Cass? Or am I just telling you what you already know but don’t want to hear?”

  She storms down the hall and I follow her. I can’t stop myself.

  “They’ll hurt you, Cassidy. They won’t see you any more than they have for the last twenty years. You know that. You’re too smart to get hooked into their bullshit.”

  ~Cassidy~

  I STOMP INTO my room, wishing he’d stop talking, because everything he’s saying is true. But maybe this time it’ll be different. Maybe this time my parents will realize how wrong they’ve been all this time.

  “I’m sorry, Cass.” Wyatt’s voice is soft and caring, and I know it’s killing him to hear that I’m considering going, despite how badly I know he wants to be supportive.

  I can’t look at him. I fold my arms over my stomach as tears slip down my cheeks. My mother might be wrong about a lot of things, but she was spot-on when she said that when the right guy came along, I wouldn’t be able to breathe without him. “Just give me time to make a final decision, Wyatt. Please.” I hardly recognize my own shaky voice.

  I can feel the heat of him standing behind me. He brings warmth and comfort, and the rest of my room feels cold and foreign. I haven’t slept in this room for so long that it doesn’t feel like I ever did. I don’t want to sleep in it now. I want to sleep with Wyatt, curled in his arms with his heart beating against my back.

  He wraps me in his arms like he knows exactly what I need, and I can’t believe I’m lucky enough to be the woman he chose to love. Out of all the women in the world, he’s standing here with me, holding me, loving me, when I know no other woman would ever even think about leaving Wyatt. He’s everything I could ever hope for in a boyfriend, and yet I’m still torn because of my stupid parents.

  He presses his cheek to mine, and for a second I think he’s going to try to convince me again that my parents are full of empty, manipulative promises, but he doesn’t.

  He holds me tighter.

  “It’s okay, babe. Whatever you decide, we’ll figure it out. I’m sorry I lost my cool. Just the thought of you being disappointed again makes me nuts. But I get it. I understand, and we’ll make it work.” Wyatt kisses my cheek and leaves the room.

  I stand there alone for a few minutes, feeling like I don’t know who I am anymore. I hate that I’m even thinking about New York and my parents. I hate it so much, and yet I can’t turn the thoughts off.

  I debate going down the hall and crawling into Wyatt’s bed, but I know I’m going to cry a hundred times tonight, and I don’t want him to see me so upset. It will only make him dislike my parents even more. So I climb beneath the covers of this bedroom that feels cold and wrong and try to sleep.

  An hour later I’m lying in bed watching the minutes tick by on the digital clock when I hear my bedroom door open. I know it’s Wyatt without looking. I can feel his presence, and as he lifts the covers and slips beneath, curling his body around mine, a different type of tear slips down my cheek. A happy tear.

  I snuggle against him and lace my fingers with his, knowing that no matter how many times I push him away, he’s not like my parents. He’ll never leave me.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  ~Cassidy~

  THE SKY IS gray the next morning, but despite the overcast day, Wyatt and I have breakfast on the deck. This is my favorite time of morning, before the rest of the town is shuffling about, when the beach feels serene and our bodies ease gracefully into the new day. I toss pieces of bread to the seagulls. Wyatt laughs when they swoop low, and I startle. I think about what it will be like waking up in New York, to the sounds of car horns and tires on pavement instead of waves breaking and the squawks of seabirds. I wonder how I’ll feel putting on a skirt and heels and rushing to catch a train, living with my aunt Aggie, who’s weird as pig shit.

  “You okay?” Wyatt asks as he reaches for my hand, then kisses the back of it. I love when he does that. It’s such a small thing, but I wonder how many twenty-two-year-old guys do that. Certainly none that I know.

  “Yeah. Just thinking.”

  “Sorry I lost it last night.” He moves his chair closer so our knees touch. “I was just taken by surprise.”

  “It’s okay. I’m glad you came into my room. I missed you, and I couldn’t sleep, but I didn’t want you to see me so upset.”

  He leans forward and kisses me. “Not that I’m an expert on relationships, but if we’re only supposed to share the good times, then we won’t make it very long. My whole life is up and down. Good and bad.”

  “When did you get so relationship savvy?”

  He smiles that easy smile that melts my heart. “Since I found a woman worth growing up for.” His smile fades. “Cass, you told me I had to grow up, and I have. I am. If that’s why you’re considering leaving, then at least give me credit for what I have been able to fix. I handled the situation with Tim, and I’m doing the best I can with Delilah. I may not be my father, or yours, but I’m doing my best.”

  “It’s not that, Wyatt. It’s not you at all. I love who you are. I have total faith in you.”

  “Then what is it? I need to understand. If you leave me for New York, I just want to know why.” His soulful eyes make my heart squeeze.

  I can’t tell him that my parents are pressuring me or that part of my stupid heart hopes they will really spend more time with me. Instead I shrug, which is lame and an unfair reaction, because I know how Wyatt feels about my parents, but it’s all I can muster.

  “A shrug? That’s the explanation you give me?” He shakes his head and leans back in the chair.

  “I’m sorry, I—” My phone rings, and my mother’s number flashes on the screen.

  He kisses me, then rises to his feet. “It’s okay, Cass. Talk to your parents.”

  I watch him leave, and I’m so upset that my hands are shaking when I finally answer the call.

  “Hi, Mom. What’s up?”

  “I wanted to let you know that your father and I have gone through our schedules, and if…when you move to New York, we probably won’t be able to visit until at least Thanksgiving. Separately, of course. I think we can each stay for two days, and I was thinking that we’d go to dinner and…”

  Thanksgiving? Two days? They can’t even make time for me for another three months, and then it’s only two days? I totally zone out. I don’t want to listen to her plans that may or may not come true. I look over my shoulder at Wyatt leaning against the counter. His bare back is facing me. His cargo shorts are army green and remind me of his nickname, which makes me smile, because Wyatt never needed a nickname. His parents could have named him Grace and he’d still be the most rugged, bravest man I know.

  I want to see him like this every morning. I want to wake up in his arms and I want to fall asleep beside him, whether I’m happy or sad. He’s been there for me for seventeen years. Seventeen years. It blows me away. Almost every day for at least as long as I can remember, he’s been there for me. When my parents traveled without me and his parents let me stay at his house, it was Wyatt who stayed up late talking me through my loneliness. It was Wyatt who carried me inside when I fell off a skateboard and hurt my knee. It was Wyatt who told me how beautiful I looked at senior prom when he refused to take a real date and took both me and Delilah instead. Wyatt understands when I need to eat a gallon of ice cream and cry over a stupid chick flick, or when I cover my eyes watching scary movies. And it’s Wyatt who came into my room last night, when I know I hurt his feelings, and he pushed his own discomfort aside to make me feel better.

  I have no idea what my mother’s rambling about. Something having to do with sushi, and for once I’m not hanging on to the hope that she’ll find room in her life for me, because my life is full. She can’t change the past, and holding out for a future that will never happen will crush
me. I’ve given up enough of my emotional energy for parents who probably never should have had a child in the first place. I’m not going to waste another second of my emotional energy on them when I have more love than I could ever dream of right here.

  I finally understand what it felt like for Wyatt to risk giving in to his feelings for me. It’s my turn. It’s our turn. Time for me to take a risk.

  “I always thought I was the mature one,” I mumble, more to myself than to my mother.

  “What?” my mother asks.

  I look out at the ocean and pull my shoulders back, and my confidence is reflected in my voice. “I always thought I was the mature one. I thought I was more mature than Wyatt.”

  “Oh, honey. Wyatt Armstrong? You’re far more mature than him. He’ll never grow up.”

  Her words sting, and my chest tightens. “No, you’re wrong, Mom. He’s more mature than I am. He’s grown up.”

  “I hardly think that—”

  “To be honest, I don’t really care if you think he is or not.” I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I can’t stop. I’ve hidden my feelings for too long. “Do you even remember that his parents died a month ago? Do you realize how much he and Delilah have gone through? Their parents took me in time and time again because you and Dad were jetting off somewhere, and you don’t even have the decency to show up for the funeral.” I’m screaming, and somewhere in the back of my mind I’m aware of a door opening, but I’m knee-deep in giving my mother shit for the last twenty-two years and not about to stop.

  “We were across the country,” she explains.

  “So what? They were supposedly your friends. They took care of me. Your daughter. You know what, Mom?” I don’t wait for her to answer. “You and Daddy are selfish. I’m ashamed to have even been thinking of leaving Wyatt with the hopes of seeing you.”

  “Leaving Wyatt?”

  “Yes, Mother. You want the truth?” Tears stream down my cheeks. My body’s shaking, and I have no idea how my legs manage to carry me down the steps of the deck and onto the sand, but they do.