Crave: The Gibson Boys, Book #3

by Locke, Adriana

  When he grips the doorframe and leans inside the car, there’s no ignoring his presence. Even if I wanted to, the way my body hums would be enough to remind me every half a second he’s here. It’s always been that way with him. I bet it always will be.

  “What?” I ask.

  “You said you got a new job?”

  “Yeah.” I give him a small, genuine smile. “I start on the first.”

  “In Vigo?”

  I nod.

  He nods too. “I guess that makes sense since you live there and all.”

  “I’m excited. It’s a lot faster paced than where I worked before.”

  “Did you not like it there?”

  “No, I did. I just …” I look at the sky. I don’t want him to feel bad about my choice of words, but I’m not sure how to phrase them. “I really need something fresh. To go a new direction. These past few years have been rough and …”

  My voice trails off as I watch Machlan absorb the weight of the words. I can see it in the way he shifts his weight and in the way his shoulders fall. It’s probably because he’s the only one who’s privy to all the things those words mean.

  “I, um, I think that’s great.” He clears his throat. He leans away, looking over my head in a blank stare. “Anybody would be lucky to have you around.”

  “Thanks.” The word is a whisper. Anything more would be impossible around the lump in my throat. “I appreciate that, Mach.”

  We exchange a soft smile before he releases the doorframe.

  “You going to Cross’s?” he asks.

  “Later,” I say, starting the engine.

  I don’t want to leave on a sweet note that I’ll think about all night. I’ll have a hard enough time sleeping the way it is.

  “Later?” he asks, furrowing his brow. “Where are you going now?”

  “Who knows?” He glares as I reach for the door. “Probably to get a drink first.”

  “Don’t fuck with me, Hadley.”

  I yank on the door but stop it before it shuts all the way. “Don’t fuck with me, Machlan.”

  He steps away as the engine roars to life. There’s no doubt he’s annoyed, but he’s amused too.

  As I pull away, I’m annoyed at his incessant need to take over when I’m around. But I’m a little amused too.

  All his behavior stems from a really good place. It’s not that hard to remember that. Despite our problems and miscommunications and all of that, he’s always been one thing: loyal.

  Whether I wanted to or not, I could call him for anything. Maybe it wouldn’t be the best idea, but he would do anything for me.

  Everything but one thing.

  The one thing that matters more than them all.

  Four

  Hadley

  “Kallie, let me help you.” I start to push back my chair before my brother’s girlfriend waves me off.

  “Don’t you even think about it. Sit. Relax.” The dishwasher swings shut with a bang. “I’m going to jump in the shower and leave you two alone for a bit.”

  She walks by the table where Cross and I are sitting and stops briefly to press a kiss to the top of his head. He gazes up at her with a soft smile and watches until she rounds the corner.

  Settling back in my chair, my stomach full of Kallie’s meatloaf and mashed potatoes, I watch my older brother. I never thought I’d see him like this—content and happy in a way that seems to come from the purest, sweetest spot. I study him, wondering what a look like that feels like on the inside.

  He lifts a glass of ice water but doesn’t bring it to his lips. “What?”

  “Nothing.”

  “That look is not nothing.”

  I sigh and pick at the hemline of my shirt, hoping Kallie comes back in and needs Cross for some random task. Anything to get me out of this topic.

  It’s funny in a not-so-funny way that Cross settled down before me. On one hand, he was the wild one between the two of us. When I came to live with him and Dad after our mother died, I couldn’t believe how much he got away with. Late nights. Less-than-stellar grades. A best friend who oozed trouble. On the other, I was the good girl. The book nerd. The one who beat curfew by five minutes. All indications pointed to me having my life in order way before my brother. Yet here we are in Cross and Kallie’s house while my life is a disaster.

  I’ve spent way too many years pushing in the wrong directions. It wasn’t until my ex-boyfriend, Samuel, brought up marriage a couple of times that I realized how much trouble I was in.

  I hated my job. I loathed my apartment. And I didn’t love the man I’d spent almost a year with.

  What kind of life is that?

  When I saw a website on his computer about wedding proposals, all I could see was the next sixty years of my life that I didn’t want. And when I tried to envision the life I did, it kept coming back to one thing. One man. Machlan.

  “I was thinking about how happy you are,” I say. “I haven’t seen you this way in a long time, Cross. Maybe ever.”

  He sets the glass down. The ice cubes clink together as the water swishes around. “You know, that’s true. When I was with Kallie before, I wasn’t ready. I wasn’t in a place to appreciate being in this place. If that makes any sense.”

  “Kind of.”

  “I’m kind of glad things didn’t work out with us until now. It wouldn’t have been as good then.”

  “You were kids.”

  “We were kids.” He parts his lips as though he’s about to say something else but doesn’t. His head cocks to the side.

  I have the distinct feeling this conversation is segueing to a topic I’m not ready to talk about yet.

  I glance at the ceiling and study the little swirls that take the place of the popcorn that was there the last time I was here.

  “New ceilings?” I ask.

  “How did you notice that?”

  “Well, if you remember, the last time I was here, Machlan stopped by and a piece of the popcorn fell into his drink …”

  Cross nods. “And you told him you hoped he got asbestos.”

  “Not one of my finer moments,” I mumble. “Anyway, the ceiling looks nice. I love the swirls.”

  As Cross gets up and refills his water glass, probably giving me a minute to bring up seeing Machlan, I wonder if it would be possible to get up and leave. To not answer his questions. To avoid the full reason I came home—to get advice from my brother and deal with Machlan once and for all—and go.

  Before I can get to my feet, Cross is sitting in front of me.

  “Okay,” he says. “Let’s do this.”

  “Um, let’s do what?”

  “Someone said you went to Crave tonight.”

  My forehead rests on the edge of the table. The wood is smooth from years of wear, and I wish I could somehow melt into it and become invisible.

  “That someone is named Peck, huh?” I ask.

  “Yeah, maybe.”

  “Fucker.”

  He laughs, leaning back in his chair and stretching his jeans-clad legs along the side of the table. “Do we want to jump right into why you went to see Mach?” When I don’t raise my head, he continues. “Or do you want to tell me why you did it at Crave? I don’t have a preference, if that’s what you’re waiting on. I can’t wait to hear the answer to all of it.”

  “You know what they say—curiosity killed the cat.”

  “Did your curiosity get the better of you tonight?”

  “Uh, no.” I lift my head. “I know all about Machlan Freaking Gibson and the hellhole that is Crave. There’s no curiosity there, bud.”

  I think of all the things I wish I didn’t know. Like the smell of Machlan’s skin first thing in the morning and the way he donates money anonymously every year to the local school to buy winter coats for kids. I wish I didn’t know how his voice sounds when he’s whispering things in my ear as I drift to sleep and how he pretends not to hear when someone says his parents would’ve been proud of him.

  Mostly,
though, I wish I didn’t know the way his arms feel like the safest place in the world when I’m scared and how the pad of his thumb catches my tears with such gentleness when I’m falling apart. I wish more than anything that I didn’t know how graceful he is under duress. How I can’t imagine going through some of the things I have with anyone but him.

  I wish I didn’t know any of that.

  “How are things in Vigo?” Cross asks, changing tactics.

  “Fine.”

  He runs a hand through dark hair the same color as our mother’s. Seeing Cross reminds me so much of her that it’s hard to even be around him sometimes.

  “Should I be worried about you?” He fiddles with his glass. “You’re acting weird. Even for you.”

  “Gee, thanks.” I toss him my best smile despite the hollowness in my chest. “I’m fine. Really. Vigo is great. I’m stoked about my new job. The staff seems awesome, and I can’t wait to get started. Everything is good.”

  Cross’s grin is smug. “What about Samuel?”

  “What about him?” I yawn.

  “The last time I saw you, I was pretty sure you guys were serious.”

  “Yeah, we were. I guess.” I shrug. “That’s how apathetic I am about him. The only words I have for Samuel is a shrug. How bad is that?”

  “Bad is a subjective term. And were is past tense.”

  “You’re so smart, big brother.”

  He shakes his head. “Are you deliberately trying not to give me any information? Or is this one of those times I’m supposed to push? I’m not sure.”

  The chair creaks as I settle back. As if he knows we’re talking about him, Samuel’s name glows from my phone a few inches in front of me. I stare at his name and imagine the sound of his voice.

  He’s a pretty nice guy. A good guy, for all intents and purposes. He’s smart, works hard, and balances his checkbook to the penny.

  Once the glow fades and the voicemail alert chimes, I look back at my brother.

  “We’re on a break,” I say simply.

  “And how do you feel about that?”

  I ponder that for a moment. “Relieved.” Tucking my foot under my bottom, I ease into this conversation. “Samuel is a great guy.”

  “Great might be a little strong of an adjective, but I’ve seen worse.”

  “He’s nice, Cross,” I say.

  “He’s kind of a pudfuck.”

  “He is not!” I shake my head, trying not to laugh. “And don’t use that word ever again.”

  “It fits.”

  “It does not. Samuel is not a pudfuck, whatever that even is.”

  “Then why are you relieved you’re not together?”

  I wait for my belly to flutter, for that pang of guilt to swell in my stomach for not answering his call, but neither happen. I feel like someone hit a mute button on my emotions and that gives me guilt.

  “Maybe relieved isn’t the right word,” I groan. “Not dealing with him feels kind of nice for a change.”

  “Is he high-maintenance?”

  “Not really. He’s … particular. And that’s a great quality,” I add quickly, “but sometimes, if the vacuum lines don’t look perfect, I can live with that.”

  “Apparently, you can live without him too.”

  My smile fades as I see the truth in my brother’s words. “Yeah. I can. But I wish I couldn’t.”

  Cross sits up and folds his hands on the table. He dips his head, looking at me with no levity at all. “I’ll be totally honest with you. When I met him a few weeks ago, I couldn’t figure out what in the hell you were doing with him, Had. You were blah. You didn’t laugh. You didn’t joke around or reminisce about stuff.”

  It’s true. I know it’s true. I knew it was true then. That day, when Cross met Samuel, the shift started in my soul.

  “I liked him,” I say.

  “Did you, though?” Cross sits back again. “Or did you like him because he wasn’t Machlan?”

  “Oh, he’s not Machlan.” The two of them side-by-side in my head is enough to make me snort. “I just … Is it wrong to wish I was in love with Samuel? Like I wish I wanted to get married and have his children. I just don’t.”

  My brother studies me. His big, green eyes soften, filling with a concern that shine like my mother’s used to when she was alive. It rips at me and makes this harder and easier all at once.

  A lump lodges itself at the base of my throat, swelling a little more with each breath I take. My chest stings like a fire is smoldering in the bottom of my lungs. If I was sitting across from anyone else, I’d be able to pretend there wasn’t the start of a wildfire burning inside me.

  “I wish it wasn’t this way,” I say softly. My guard has fallen and broken into pieces at my feet. There’s a relief in being able to drop it for a while.

  “What way?”

  “Maybe Samuel isn’t for me. Maybe that was a decision I made when I was super lonely one night and we reached for the same ice cream, okay? But there is a guy out there for me, and I’ll miss him when he walks by because I’m stuck on Mach.” I blink back tears. “I’m so stupid.”

  “You are not stupid, Had.”

  “I am. I really, really am.” My hair swishes against my shoulders as I shake my head, blowing out a breath that takes way too long to expel. “I have the dumbest crush on him, which I know is weird for you to hear, being that you’re his best friend and all …”

  “Not new information.”

  I grin sheepishly. “Something is wrong with me because I can’t turn it off. It’s like a part of me thinks he and I have a future together, and it’s really messing with my life.”

  Cross presses his lips together. The light in his eyes has dimmed.

  “I think I’m emotionally unavailable to men because I feel like I’m in a relationship with Machlan, which is so ridiculous because he’s made it abundantly clear he doesn’t want a relationship with me.” I suck in a breath. “I’ve heard him say this, Cross. This is not some unspoken guess on my part. Yet my heart refuses to get the message.”

  “You can’t help who you love. But you can help how much you let them hurt you.” Cross’s face tenses. He’s clearly torn over what to do. He’s been stuck in the middle of this non-relationship between his little sister and best friend for far too long. “I’m gonna talk to him.”

  “No, you aren’t,” I say. “Machlan doesn’t hurt me. Not intentionally. It’s my own damn fault.”

  “Then we need to get you away from here. Finn Miller has a cabin up on the lake. I bet you could use it if they aren’t there.”

  “No, Cross.”

  “Kallie would go with you. Or take Nora. She put in her two weeks’ notice tonight at Crave.”

  “She did?” I ask. “That surprises me.”

  “She’s taking classes or something. I don’t know. Peck mentioned it. I’m sure this will add rainbows to Machlan’s attitude,” he groans. “Anyway, I could call Finn and see if he minds.”

  Just when I think he doesn’t get it, I realize he does. There’s a hesitation in his tone and a cloudiness across his eyes that clues me in. It’s not that he doesn’t get it—he doesn’t like it. He knows this will probably get uglier before it gets easier … if it gets easier. But he’s trying to protect me from it.

  “Thank you for offering,” I tell him, putting a hand over his. “But I didn’t decide to come here on a whim.”

  “He’s my best friend. I see the good sides of him, and there are a ton of them. Hell, I’d congratulate a woman if she were able to wrangle that motherfucker into forever, but Had, you’re not just another woman. You’re my sister. That changes everything.”

  “I’m aware of that. And I’m sorry it makes it weird for you.”

  “I’ll be fine. It’s not me I’m worried about.” He shoves away from the table. “If you two were on the same page, I’d give you my blessing. I love you both. But this isn’t easy to watch. It never has been. You’ve always kind of handled it, but …” He stop
s and turns around. “You seem different about it today.”

  “I’m resolved to the fact that I have to take responsibility for my life. For my happiness.”

  “That’s true.”

  “I know it is. I’ve always lied to myself and thought things would change between me and Machlan, but they’re not going to. I have to accept that and figure out how to live with it.”

  “And you think being here is the way to do that?”

  “Yeah.” I sigh. “I can’t avoid Linton forever. I can’t avoid Mach either. I want to be able to come home and see you and Kallie and Emily. I want to run into Machlan at the gym or throw Kallie an engagement party and not hem and haw about it because I know he’ll show up. He’s going to have to be a part of my life, and I have to make that work.”

  “And?”

  “And I’d like to be free to fall in love someday. Get married. Have a family …” When my voice breaks on the last word, Cross reaches for me, but I wave him off.

  He gives me the space to get myself together. I shove all those thoughts out of my head, something I’ve practiced long enough to be decent at, and get to my feet.

  “You good?” he asks.

  “I’m good.” To help the effect, I give him a thumbs-up. “Any advice?”

  I watch with amazement as his cup is rinsed and put into the dishwasher. “I have something, but it’ll probably complicate things.”

  “Not sure it could get more complicated.” I stand and make my way across the kitchen, shoving my glass in the dishwasher before he can shut it.

  “You didn’t rinse it.”

  “It only had water in it.”

  He scowls, pulling the cup out and rinsing it before putting it back in the dishwasher. “Kallie wants everything rinsed first.”

  “Oh, please.” I laugh. “Has Kallie whipped you into a baby?”

  “Happy wife, happy life. Isn’t that what they say?”

  “Yeah, but she’s not your wife.”

  “Yet.” He almost sounds offended. “Anyway, back to you. If you are really in love with Machlan like I am Kallie, then I don’t think you’ll ever stop loving him. Even when she left me, I still couldn’t move on, and I had women throwing themselves at me.”