Wildflower (Colors #4)

by Jessica Prince

  “It’s Noah, okay?!” he yelled back, then cringed as the noise echoed through his aching head.

  My back went straight. “What about Noah? Did he do something to you?”

  “No, God,” he said exasperatedly. “It’s nothing like that. It’s Noah and you… together.”

  My brows dipped in confusion. “I don’t understand. What does me and Noah being together have to do with anything?”

  “Because you’ll leave again!” he shouted, ignoring any discomfort from his hangover as he jumped from his stool. My eyes went wide with shock as he continued. “If you guys break up, you’ll leave again! That’s what happened the first time. You two seemed cool, then all of a sudden Grammy said you were getting a divorce and moving away! I don’t have anyone left, Low-Low, and I don’t want to move to New York if things go bad between you guys again. I’m sick of losing people I care about!”

  “Oh God, sweetheart,” I cried, jumping from my stool and rushing to him, wrapping him in a tight embrace. Jeez, it seemed I cried more these past few weeks than I had in years. My stupid eyes leaked at least once a day. “That’s not going to happen,” I whispered as I held on to him tightly. “I’m so sorry. I never should have left you. That’s something I’ll regret for the rest of my life.” I pulled back, cupping his cheeks in my hands as. “But sweetie, I’m never doing that again. I promise. I’m never leaving you again,” I told him determinedly.

  “You can’t say that,” he told me in a voice so low I almost didn’t hear him. “You can’t promise that. You don’t know what’s gonna happen. He could break your heart again, and you’ll leave ‘cuz you won’t want to see him. Then what happens to me?”

  Taking his hand in mine, I pulled him back over to the stools and forced him to sit with me. It was time he knew the truth. Knowing Ethan’s behavior stemmed from his fear that I’d leave him again hurt me in a way I’d never experienced before. I hurt because my brother was hurting. I hurt because I let him down. But mainly I hurt for him.

  And.

  It.

  Killed.

  Me.

  The pain I felt at losing Noah didn’t even compare.

  “I need you to listen to me, sweetie, and I need you to believe me. I’m not going anywhere. Not ever. You can trust me on that.” I stopped talking long enough to close my eyes and pull in a deep breath. When I opened them again, I saw I had his full attention.

  “When I was seventeen, I got pregnant. It was an accident, not something Noah or I planned, but it happened.”

  “Holy shit!” Ethan uttered in bewilderment. “Are you serious?”

  “Yeah, I am.”

  “Wait… is that why you guys got married?”

  I nodded, my stomach knotted up with every emotion you could imagine. “Yeah.”

  “So what happened?” he asked, his curiosity having taken over.

  “We were too young. Honestly, we never should have gotten married. I think, subconsciously, I knew that it was a mistake, that’s why I never got around to changing my last name. It wasn’t what we wanted, but his parents, they’re a bit… traditional.” That was putting it mildly. “They pressured us to get married so the baby wouldn’t be born out of wedlock, and we caved.”

  “But… I don’t understand. If it wasn’t what you wanted, why didn’t Grammy stop you? She never would have made you do something you didn’t want.”

  “She tried,” I answered as a tear rolled down my cheek at the memory of my sweet, wonderful grandmother. “She tried to talk me out of it, but in the end, it’s what I thought I had to do. She saw how determined I was and stopped fighting it so she could be on my side instead. You know Grammy, she was all about letting you make your own mistakes, but she always had your back no matter what. That’s what she did for me.”

  Neither of us spoke for several seconds before Ethan broke the silence. “She was kinda awesome, wasn’t she?”

  “Absolutely,” I smiled warmly. “She was the best.”

  “So… tell me what happened,” he coaxed.

  “Well,” I sighed. “I lost the baby. And I didn’t really handle it well. That, on top of everything else… I couldn’t deal. We were only eighteen. It was all too much. I told him I wanted out. He tried to talk me out of it, but, like always, I was determined.”

  “You were stubborn,” Ethan told me. “You have a tendency to be that way. I know because I can be stubborn too.”

  “You don’t say?” I asked sarcastically with a roll of my eyes. “Anyway, I made it so Noah didn’t have any choice but to give me the divorce I asked for. And I left. I didn’t look back.”

  Seeing how the conversation was taking a toll on me, Ethan grabbed my hand and squeezed. “Did you regret it?”

  “I didn’t, not at first. But now? Yeah, I regret not fighting for our relationship.”

  “But you guys are back together, right? I mean, you got to start over and try again.”

  “Yeah,” I smiled sadly. “But remember that stubbornness?”

  His eyes widened slightly and his hand tightened again. “Oh no.”

  “I’m pregnant, bud,” I told him softly. “Just like last time, it wasn’t expected. When I found out, I freaked, and I messed everything up.”

  He studied me intently and asked, “But you can fix it, can’t you? I mean, if he loves you, he’ll forgive you. He has to,” he finished adamantly.

  “Hopefully this isn’t something you’ll ever have to learn, sweetheart, but sometimes you can push a person so far, there’s no going back. I’m afraid I’ve reached that point with Noah.”

  He surprised me when he asked, “Do you love him?”

  “Yes, very much,” I answered without a single ounce of hesitation. “The only person I love more is you. And that’s why I’m never leaving again. I didn’t tell you all of this to make you feel sorry for me, Ethan. I told you because I wanted you to understand that I’m here to stay. I want you to be comfortable in that knowledge. I don’t want you fearing that your life’s going to be turned upside down again. I might not have been the best sister in the past, but I swear to God, I’m going to do better, okay?”

  Ethan pulled me from the stool and wrapped his long arms around me. I hadn’t even realized I was crying again until just then. “You were never a bad sister, Low-Low,” he whispered. “And I’m sorry I’ve been such a shit lately.”

  “Stop cussing,” I mumbled against his chest as I squeezed him.

  His chest vibrated against my cheek as he laughed. “Sorry. I’ll work on that, too.”

  “You’re still grounded, you know that, right?”

  He laughed again. “Yeah, I figured.”

  I refused to let go of the hug as I kept talking. “And I kind of hate Shannon.”

  His chest moved again, but it was on a deep breath instead of a laugh. “Yeah. She kinda sucks.”

  “You saw her with that other guy?” I hedged.

  “Yep. But it’s all good. I’m young. I should be playing the field, not settling down at fourteen.”

  “Ethan!” I shouted, pulling away. “Did you not learn anything from the story I just told you?”

  “Uh, yeah,” he grinned. “I learned to never ever knock a chick up while I’m still in high school.” My hand shot out and smacked him upside the head. “Ow! Sh—oot, sis, that hurt! I’ve got a headache, you know.”

  I glared as I put my hands on my hips. “Keep pissing me off and you’re going to have more than a headache. I’m pregnant and hormonal like crazy. You don’t want to mess with me right now.”

  “Noted,” he chuckled as he reached for his coffee cup and took a gulp.

  And just like that, the rift between my brother and me was closed. We were back to normal. I thanked my lucky stars that at least I was back on speaking terms with one of the men in my life.

  If only it were that easy to fix things with Noah.

  A week had passed since I helped Harlow haul Ethan’s ass home, and each day that passed, I woke up feeling even wo
rse than the day before.

  Harlow: 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’d probably re-read that message a thousand times a day since walking out her door that night. And it twisted my gut painfully each time. But pride was a bitch, and unfortunately, mine wouldn’t let me move past her taking the one thing I wanted—a future with her—away from me for a second time.

  Trying to channel my frustrations, I joined my boys in the weight room once school let out, determined to lose myself in a backbreaking workout. It hadn’t worked. As the guys started clearing out, heading to the locker room for a shower after going through the exercises I’d set up for them during the off season, I stayed behind, hoping to exhaust myself to the point that I’d be able to fall into bed tonight and sleep without the interruption of a dream about Harlow.

  Dropping the dumbbells in my hands I picked up my towel and wiped the sweat from my brow just as the door to the weight room creaked open and closed. Looking into the wall of mirrors, I was a little shocked at who I saw standing a few feet behind me.

  “You need something, Prewitt?” I asked as I walked back to the dumbbells.

  “You’re an asshole,” he stated, shocking hell out of me.

  “You wanna rethink that and start again?” I asked, my voice a heated rumble coming from deep in my chest.

  “Nope,” the little smartass quipped.

  My focus now off my workout, I turned and closed some of the distance between us. I had to hand it to him; despite the fury that was, undoubtedly, painted on my face, he didn’t even flinch.

  “You might want to turn around and walk outta here before you really piss me off, kid.”

  “I think I’ll stay.” His shoulders squared and his chin lifted.

  “I’m giving you one more chance,” I warned.

  “And I’m here to tell you to stop fuckin’ with my sister.”

  My back stiffened and my hands curled into fists. “You don’t know what you’re talkin’ about.”

  His jaw clenched as he informed me, “You’re wrong. She told me everything. I know about what happened before and I know she’s pregnant now. I know it all.”

  I placed my fists on my hips and dropped my head on an exhale for a few second, trying to control my breathing and heart rate. I looked back up and told him, “Look, Ethan, I don’t expect you to understand, but—”

  “She loves you,” he spouted.

  “She doesn’t,” I said between clenched teeth.

  “Yes she does,” he argued. “She told me herself when she told me about you guys.”

  I was floored, the breath knocked right out of my lungs. “What?”

  “Yeah,” he nodded excitedly. “I asked her flat out and she told me the only person she loves more than you is me. She’s miserable, Coach. She’s scared that she lost her chance with you.” His eyes went wide. “And I suddenly feel like I’m livin’ in a chick flick. I think I need to make sure my dick hasn’t turned into a vagina.”

  I couldn’t help it, the kid was just too damn much. My head fell back as I roared with laughter. I hadn’t laughed in what felt like forever and it felt good. Damn good.

  When I looked back at him, he was watching me, cautious optimism filling his eyes. “Are you gonna talk to her?”

  “I’m not sure, kid,” I answered honestly, watching the hope fade out of him. “But whether I do or not, it’s not up to you to worry about it. Don’t take on that responsibility. It’s not your job to carry that. All you’re responsible for is keeping your grades up, having a good time—within reason—” I added with a knowing glare that got me an embarrassed look in response, “and kickin’ ass at football. You need to step back and let the adults handle the heavy shit, okay?”

  He dropped his head, somewhat defeated. “Yeah, okay,” he muttered.

  “Can I get your word on that?”

  He lifted his head and nodded. “You got my word, Coach.”

  I grinned and put my hand on his shoulder. “Thanks, kid. You’re a good brother. I’m glad she has that.”

  He turned and headed for the door, but stopped a few feet away and looked at me over his shoulder. “She’s a good sister, too. And she’s gonna be a great mom. Probably even be a good wife to whatever asshole’s lucky enough to get her,” he finished with a shrug. From the knowing grin that curved his lips, I knew my thoughts were written all over my face. He saw my thought of like fuck any man besides me is gonna get a chance with her clear as day and knew he’d hit his mark.

  I had nothing in return, so I just said, “Watch your mouth or I’m gonna tell your sister.”

  I got another shrug. Christ, kids and their shrugging. “Hell, if it gets you to talk to her, I’ll fuckin’ cuss up a storm. No shit.”

  “All right, all right. I got it. Now get outta here.”

  With a chuckle, he pushed open the door and disappeared, leaving me alone to contemplate everything he’d just said.

  That kid’s too damn smart for his own good, I thought, feeling an overwhelming sense of pride in Harlow for bringing Ethan back to the boy he used to be.

  By the time I went back to my workout, I had a brand new set of issues weighing heavily on my mind.

  I’d just pulled dinner from the oven when I heard the front door open and close.

  “Hey,” I called out. “You’re home late.”

  “Yeah,” Ethan replied as he stepped into the kitchen. “Stayed after to workout with the team. Uh, what are you doing?” he asked with a worried expression.

  “What’s it look like? I’m making dinner?”

  Spinning on his heels he headed out of the room. “I’m goin’ out for pizza! I’ll pick you up a slice. Be back in a bit.”

  “Hey!” I shouted after him. “Get your ass back in here. It’s a premade casserole Chloe brought over earlier. She even set the oven and everything. You’re safe, you little jerk.” I tried to sound offended, but the smile on my face gave me away as he came back. I was still heartsick over Noah, but the fact that Ethan and I had been having a good week with each other took the sting out of it just a little bit. I didn’t have to fake being happy when he was around. My little brother was all I needed to help me get by.

  “Set the table, will you? We’re going to try this new thing called eating as a family. I think it’s French or something. Figured we’d give it a shot, see if it sticks.”

  “Okay, smartass,” he chuckled.

  “Watch the mouth!” I scolded as he pulled plates from the cabinet and got to work. Just as I was about ready to sit, my cell rang from inside my purse. My stomach fluttered with a million butterflies as hope swelled in my chest. I didn’t want to be obvious that I hoped it was Noah, but I was pretty sure the mad dash I took toward the foyer blew my cover straight to hell.

  That hope was extinguished when the name on the screen showed a number I’d been actively avoiding for weeks. With a sigh, I connected the call and held the phone to my ear.

  “Hello?”

  “Yes, Harlow Prewitt?”

  “Yes it is.”

  “Mrs. Prewitt, George Lawson. I’m glad I caught you. We really need to sit down to finalize your grandmother’s estate soon. It’s been weeks.”

  My shoulders slumped at the thought of meeting with Mr. Lawson. After everything that had been going on in my life, the last thing I wanted to do was finalize my grandmother’s estate. It wasn’t rational, but it felt like holding out on this one last thing was a way of holding on to her.

  “Look, Mr. Lawson, now’s not really a good time—”

  “I understand you’re busy,” he interrupted, “But it’s quite important we get this taken care of as soon as possible. Would three pm tomorrow afternoon work for you?”

  Honestly, I had no valid excuse to hold the process up any longer, so I finally relented. “Uh, yeah… I mean yes, sure.”

  “Wo
nderful! So will tomorrow at three work for you?”

  “All right. I’ll be there, Mr. Lawson.”

  “Fantastic. See you then, Mrs. Prewitt.”

  “It’s Ms.,” I called into the phone before he was able to hang up.

  “I’m sorry?”

  “It’s Ms. You called me Mrs. I’m not a Mrs.”

  Mr. Lawson remained quiet for a beat. “Oh, well, yes. Thank you. See you tomorrow.” Then he hung up.

  I pulled the phone from my ear and scowled down at it. “Well that was weird.”

  “What was weird?” Ethan asked, coming up behind me.

  “Oh, nothing. Just Grammy’s attorney calling to set up a time to go over her estate. He seemed a little strange.”

  Ethan, clearly having no desire to delve into the semantics of the adult world, shrugged and headed back into the kitchen. “Let’s eat. I’m starving.”

  Just another night in the Prewitt household.

  “Hello,” I asked, cradling my phone between my shoulder and ear as I muted the TV.

  “Yes, Mr. Murphy?”

  “You got me,” I answered the unfamiliar man on the other line.

  “Good evening sir. My name is George Lawson. I was Lucille Prewitt’s attorney. I’m calling because there are a few matters with her estate that need to be discussed and would like to see if you were available to come into the office tomorrow at three o’clock.”

  I pulled the phone away from my ear and studied the number before bringing it back and telling the man, “Uh, I think you got a couple of your lines crossed, George. There shouldn’t be anything about Lucille’s estate you need to discuss with me. You should try her granddaughter, Harlow Prewitt.”

  “Oh, yes, sir. I just got off the phone with Mrs. Prewitt—”

  “Ms.” I interrupted.

  “Excuse me?”

  “Ms. Harlow’s a Ms. Not a Mrs.”

  “Yes, of course,” he responded noncommittally. “Anyhow, I’ve already spoken with Ms. Prewitt and she assured me she’ll be here tomorrow at three.”

  “Great, then you’re all set. Have a good night.”