Keeping Him Page 12

  “Uh, well because you were my closest friend, and there was an unspoken bond that you don’t hook up with each other’s girls,” I explain. “I didn’t want girls to get between us after all these years. I may be a dick, but I’m a loyal friend.”

  “Well, in that case, Kiera was the only girl left for me to hook up with.” He smirks, implying I hooked up with all the other girls. I won’t deny there’s been a lot of them, but I had my reasons for that too.

  “Seriously, though. I wouldn’t have cared. You should’ve told me that was why you stayed away. I had moved on within my first year of college.”

  “Man whore,” I tease, both of us knocking our glasses together after Tessa refills them again.

  “College was an eye-opener, that’s for sure,” Tanner admits. “But I’m glad I did it. I had to get away and focus on getting my degree. But that doesn’t mean I didn’t enjoy living the college experience,” he gloats.

  I shrug, the whiskey blazing through my veins at fast speeds. “It doesn’t matter anymore anyway. She’s with Dr. Douchebag, and they’re getting married.”

  “Does she know how you feel?” Tanner asks me seriously. “Like…how you really feel? Or did you just give up?”

  “I think she knows,” I admit. “I’ve never said it to her face, but it should be obvious how I feel.”

  “Because you’re so transparent?” Tanner mocks. “And sleep with different chicks?”

  “That was so she wouldn’t like me,” I say. “You were always the type of guy I saw her with, and that’s why I didn’t intervene when you two dated. Even at eighteen, you always had your shit together. She wanted the whole white-picket fence, two-and-a-half-car garage, two-story house with three kids and a horse ranch. You were well-educated, wealthy, and a straight-A student. That’s what she wanted and deserved.”

  “Tessa,” Tanner calls. “We’re gonna need some stronger shit. Pity party for one happening over here.”

  “You’re such a dick,” I say, laughing. “Trust me. I did the right thing by staying away.”

  Tanner shakes his head, disagreeing with me. Though I’m sure he’s not the only one who thinks that. Being in love with Kiera doesn’t change the fact that I’m all wrong for her.

  “Self-loathing startin’ early, boys?” Tessa teases as she hands us four shots of tequila. “These are on me.” She winks before walking away.

  “Better call us a ride,” I say, grabbing a shot in each hand and downing them both in seconds.

  “Do you remember that time we snuck onto the Miller’s farm and nearly got killed by their cows?” Tanner asks, laughing the whole way through his question. I nod in response, remembering it way too well.

  “And then you dared me to tip it,” I add.

  “That was all Kiera!” he exclaims. “I just agreed.”

  “Yeah well, that cow nearly took a chunk of hair out of my head. She was pissed!”

  “And if it weren’t for Mr. Miller hearing all the commotion, it would’ve chased me right into the electric fence,” I say, remembering more of the details. Tanner’s laughing so hard he’s crying.

  “That was one of my best summers,” he says.

  It was mine, too. It was the summer Kiera and I kissed. The kiss we never spoke of again. Anytime someone asked me if anything had ever happened between us, we both denied it.

  “I need to get over her. Let her go for my sake so I can find some closure and move on,” I say mostly to my half empty glass of beer I changed to an hour ago.

  “If that’s what you think is right, then yeah, you do. She’s not married yet, though.” He raises his brows as if he’s implying I could do something about it now.

  It’s well past midnight before John picks up our drunk asses. He looks less than amused, but I know he’s at least glad we called for a ride instead of passing out drunk in the back of my pickup.

  “So what’s the occasion this time?” John asks as he pulls out onto the road.

  “When has there ever needed to be a reason?” Tanner jokes. “But I guess you could say we needed to catch up.”

  “Kiera,” John says simply. “Amiright?”

  I say no at the same time Tanner says yes. John looks at me, and I roll my eyes.

  “She’s getting married,” I tell him.

  “I know,” he replies.

  “To Dr. Douchebag.” I groan. “I hate that guy.”

  John laughs and shakes his head. “You’re drunker than usual.”

  “Tanner ordered us the hard shit. Then I switched to beer.”

  “It was that, or you were about to start singing a sad love song.” Tanner cracks up laughing, and I nudge him with my fist.

  “You suck.” I grunt. “You both suck.”

  After we make it back to the ranch, John walks into the house with us and sits on the couch while I stumble to take off my boots. “I need a cure,” I tell him, though he hasn’t said anything.

  “Who knew Jackson Bishop was capable of being pussy whipped by one he’s never had?” Tanner slaps me on the back, jerking my body over.

  “You’re such a dick, you know that?”

  “You need to get over Kiera if you don’t plan on doing anything about it. Like I said before. Either say something or move on.”

  “Tanner’s right,” John chimes in.

  I glare at them both. “You’re both exhausting.”

  “You should write her a letter,” Tanner suggests.

  “Yes, and then you should fold it into a triangle and pass it to her during first period geometry.” John laughs, and if the room wasn’t spinning right now, I’d lean over and punch him.

  “Write her a letter that’s for you,” Tanner clarifies. “Like a goodbye, I’m letting you go, want you to be happy, blah, blah, blah. It’s a therapeutic exercise. When someone has something they need to get off their chest, it helps to write it out instead of holding it all in, which you’ve been doing for over a decade.”

  “So I wouldn’t actually give it to her,” I say, thinking he might be onto something.

  “Not unless you wanted to, but most people don’t. They just usually feel a lot better afterward.”

  I shrug, contemplating it. “Okay. I’ll give it a try.”

  “You want to do it now? You can barely open your eyes,” John says, cracking up.

  “Okay, maybe after I drink a pot of coffee.”

  Tanner pours me a third cup of coffee as I continue writing on a piece of notebook paper. It’s the longest note I’ve written in years, and though I don’t typically go for this sort of stuff, I trust Tanner enough to try his method.

  “Do we get to read it?”

  “Fuck no.”

  “We’re helping you sober up, and we don’t even get to read it?”

  I eye John and Tanner who are sitting at the table with me. “So you can use it against me later and give me shit? I’m not stupid.”

  “What if we swear to never bring it up after this night?” Tanner asks. John nods in agreement, and I’m not sure whether it’s the buzz or the caffeine high, but I give in.

  “Fine, but not until I’m done.”

  Tanner and John wait with me for another hour as I finish writing it. I didn’t expect it to be this long, but I shouldn’t be surprised either. Years of pent-up emotions are spilling out of me, and while it hurts to write it, I do find some relief in doing it.

  “Okay, I think that’s it.” I put the pen down and look through the pages. “You sure you wanna read it?”

  “Hell yeah.” They both reach for the letter and start reading. I take the opportunity to get up and get myself a glass of cold water. It’s so damn late, but after drinking coffee, I feel wide-awake yet tired at the same time. It’s a fucked-up combination.

  “Why the fuck am I mentioned so much in here?” Tanner teases.

  “Wow…” John says. “This actually doesn’t suck.”

  “I’m not just a pretty boy, ya know?” I smirk, sitting back down.

  Once they�
�re done reading, John and Tanner slowly look up at me and grin. “What?” I ask.

  “I think you should give it to her,” John says. “It’s good.”

  I swipe it from his hands before he can put it out of my reach. “No way. She doesn’t need to read this letter. She’s getting married in two months.”

  “Exactly,” Tanner says. “You still have time to tell her.”

  I shake my head. “It’s too late. This will only ruin our friendship, or she’ll accuse me of being jealous and only doing it for attention or some shit. She has dreams much bigger than what I could give her anyway. I just want her to be happy.”

  “Sometimes I wonder how we can be twins, considering how different we are, but then at other times, I see a lot of myself in you and remember we have more in common than I realize,” John says.

  “What’s that mean?” I ask.

  “It means that I actually understood what you just said. I could feel the pain in your words as I read the letter. Like, my heart feels the ache you’re feeling right now. It’s…weird.”

  “Some twisted twin connection,” Tanner blurts out with a chuckle. “That’s actually very common for identical twins. Like when one twin gets into an accident, the other can often feel their pain when it happens.”

  “Well, whatever it is, I get it. When Mila left to go back to Georgia, and I thought I’d lose her forever, I felt similar pain. It’s an ache that harbors in your chest and feels so damn heavy and weak at the same time. I actually think I understand now.” It’s the sincerest thing I’ve ever heard him say about me.

  “Hurts, doesn’t it?” I frown. “But at least Mila came back. I’m happy she did.”

  “Me, too.”

  The three of us sit awkwardly, and after a few minutes, I fold up the letter. “I’m going to bed. Y’all can see yourselves out.” Standing, I take the letter with me and toss it into the trash before walking to my room and passing out.

  Chapter Eleven

  KIERA

  After working with a couple of new horses all day, I need a drink or two to wind down. I head home, take a long, hot shower, and pour myself a glass of wine as I wait for Trent to finish up his day so we can begin dinner.

  I click on the TV and close my eyes. I’ve been feeling overworked lately. Between all the wedding planning and extra horse training I’ve had, I doze off and don’t hear him come in. My eyes flutter open, and his back is to me as he walks around. I begin to sit up until I notice how he’s speaking quietly to the person on the other line. Not wanting to give myself away, I close my eyes and lie there, listening to every word that comes from his mouth that’s filled with venom. He’s shaking his head, and I’m so thankful I can’t see the look on his face because I know he’s wearing a scowl.

  “I told you to stop fucking calling me,” he whisper-shouts as if he’s mad but trying to keep his voice low.

  My heart races and pounds hard in my chest, but I somehow steady my breathing.

  “No. Stop. Just stop it. If you need more money, you need to contact my lawyer. I’m not having this conversation right now.” He pauses for a short moment. “Listen. To. Me,” he continues, seething between gritted teeth. I hear him pacing, then the front door snaps closed.

  The breath I was holding escapes from my lungs, and my eyes open wide as I replay every single word he said. I can still hear him outside talking, but I have no idea what he’s saying. Who the fuck is he talking to? Who does he owe money to? And why didn’t he feel like he could tell me about this?

  I wish I had my phone, so I could text Addie and tell her what I just heard, but I left it in the bedroom. Sucking in a deep breath, I stand and find the courage to open the front door instead. Trent immediately turns around and forces a smile.

  “Okay, well we’ll deal with this later. I’m glad she’s doing better. Alrighty. Bye,” he says quickly, then steps toward me.

  “Hey, baby. I was going to let you sleep.” He pulls me into his arms and kisses my forehead.

  I look up at him and smile, keeping my tone light and fluffy. “Who was that? Everything okay? You sounded upset.” I add the last part, hoping he’ll tell me what's going on because when I opened the door, he was yelling. By the surprised look on his face when he saw me, he knows I heard him.

  He leans down and kisses my lips as if it were nothing at all, though I’ve not seen that side of him…well, ever. “Oh, that was Mrs. Parsons. She was wondering if I could come to check on one of her horses that’s limping pretty badly. Bad horseshoes or something. I really can’t stand it when people don’t have the experience to put on shoes but do it anyway. Apparently, she allowed her nephew to do it, and now the horse is in pain.”

  I smile, but when I look at him, I have a feeling he’s lying straight to my face with a long-exaggerated story. It’s unsettling, but I force it away for now. I’m trying to give him the opportunity to be honest with me, but he’s not taking it. Or maybe I’m overreacting, and he really was talking to Mrs. Parsons, but my gut instinct tells me otherwise. Not to mention the money conversation that’s still lingering in my head. We have separate business accounts and created a joint bank account when I moved in with him to put money in for our monthly bills. I’ve refused to fully depend on him and want to take care of my share. “Are you ready for dinner? I was going to put some burgers on the grill tonight.” He easily changes the subject.

  “Yeah, that sounds perfect.” I keep the smile, not allowing it to falter, but it’s hard. Somehow I keep it together, not wanting to make a big deal out of something that might not actually be anything. Wedding jitters, I remind myself. That’s all this is.

  Trent takes my hand and leads me inside. I grab my empty wineglass and pour it to the top as he washes his hands. He looks over his shoulder at me and gives me a wink as he takes the hamburger patties from the fridge and seasons them. Once they’re ready, I follow him outside to the back porch, and we chat about our day as he grills.

  Purple and dark pink streaks of clouds paint the sky, and I find myself lost in my thoughts as Trent chats about horses.

  “I ran into your parents today at the grocery store,” he tells me.

  “Yeah? I’m supposed to have lunch with my mama tomorrow.”

  “Your mom mentioned something about Mrs. Bishop baking our wedding cake.” He looks over his shoulder, giving me a pointed look.

  I smile, but I can tell by the look on his face that he’s not thrilled about it.

  “Yeah, she usually does that for people at the church,” I remind him. “She made Emily’s cake for the bridal shower, and you said you liked it.”

  “We don’t need anything from the Bishops. Not a damn thing.” Trent keeps his back to me, and I suck in a deep breath. Lately, he’s been like this about anything to do with the Bishops, and it’s starting to wear on me, considering he knows the relationship I have with all of them.

  “They’ve been family friends since before I was an apple in my mother's eye, Trent. You’re gonna have to get over this. But while we’re on the subject, I want Jackson to be in the wedding party. We’ve talked about your cousins and sister, and I think it’s important that one of my best friends is as well.” Now seems as good a time as ever to bring it up since it’s been on my mind for the past two weeks, but I just hadn’t found the opportunity to mention it. When I talked to Emily about it, she warned me Trent would probably flip out but encouraged me to do it if that’s what I wanted, which I do.

  He sets the spatula down on the side of the grill and turns around. He’s seething, but I refuse to allow it to bother me.

  “I don’t think so,” he tells me, crossing his arms over his chest. “I don’t want him to be there at all.”

  I mirror his stance, not willing to back down. “This isn’t a negotiation, Trent. Jackson is one of my closest friends, and I want him in the wedding party. Getting married is something I’ve dreamed of my whole life, and it’s important to me that he’s up there. So I want to ask him the next time I’m at
the Bishop ranch.”

  I’m not trying to start an argument with him, but I’m putting my foot down.

  “I don’t understand your obsession with him.” He huffs, shaking his head, then turns around as he continues to speak. “But do whatever you want. Seems like you’re going to anyway.”

  Now, I’m pissed.

  It’s always something between the two of them, and I don’t know why. Trent has no reason to be threatened by Jackson, considering he’s the one I’m marrying. Instead of taking this to a level it doesn’t need to be, I calm down and walk over to Trent. I snake my arms around his waist and rest my head against his back.

  “I love you, Trent. I love you so damn much, even when you’re stubborn as hell. Don’t forget you’re the man I’m marrying, okay? If you don’t want him to be there, then I’ll do what you want, but it’s important to my parents too. I’ll just let them know you said you’d prefer him not to be there.”

  He stills for a moment, then turns around and pulls me into his arms. His demeanor completely changing.

  “No, it’s okay, babe. I know you’re marrying me, and you’ll be mine for the rest of our years. If you want him there, then I’m okay with it.”

  I look up into his eyes, and he leans down and kisses me. It’s almost frightening how he can change from being pissed to happy in all of five seconds. Maybe my words affected him?

  It’s been almost a week since Trent and I had our discussion about Jackson being in the wedding party. A few days ago, I asked Jackson, and he gave me shit about it, but hesitantly agreed. Before he did, though, he asked what Trent thought about it, knowing they have a mutual hatred for one another. I gave him a smile and told him Trent didn’t mind, though I’m sure he didn’t believe me. The truth is, I need Jackson there.

  Growing up, he was my number one support system when big decisions were made, and without him being there on a day that I’ve dreamed about since I was a little girl, I didn’t know if I could do it. Though, when I used to think about getting married, it was to him, but now I know he’s not the marrying type of man, so it would mean everything to have his blessing.