CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
two weeks later
“You’re giving her space?” Jace asked, plunking the stack of erotic books he’d been organizing for a display on the table next to him. “Why the fuck did you agree to that?”
Wyatt absently flipped through one of the novels Jace had put out, not seeing the words. He couldn’t seem to focus on anything these days. “Because I know how it feels to be on the other end of that request. Mia tried to guilt me into staying with her when I needed out. I refuse to put that pressure on someone else. Maybe we’re not ready for each other.”
“Dude, she’s scared.”
Wyatt gave him a thank-you-Captain-Obvious glare. “Don’t you think I fucking know that? Hell, I’m terrified, too. I don’t know how to have a relationship. Have you seen my track record?”
Jace smirked. “A string of women who probably couldn’t name one personal thing about you except the size of your dick and bank account?”
Wyatt shrugged. “Well, can’t blame them there, both are pretty memorable.”
Jace’s jaw fell in mock amazement. “What? The genius makes a joke? Grab your canned goods, world, the apocalypse is imminent.”
Wyatt threw the book at him, and Jace ducked, letting the thing crash into a shelf of lubricants behind him. Jace looked over his shoulder, laughing. “Clean up, aisle three!”
“I’m being serious,” Wyatt said, smiling despite his statement. It felt good to joke around with his little brother, to not have that tension between them anymore. For the first time in his life, Wyatt felt like he had someone he could truly confide in, someone who had his back. “The only real relationship I was ever in ended up with the girl I cared about killing herself because of me.”
Jace sighed. “Not because of you, bro. People break up every day. More goes into that decision to take your own life than losing your boyfriend. Mia needed help—help a twenty-one-year-old kid wasn’t capable of giving. We all have moments we wish we could go back and handle differently. God, I still don’t know how Evan ever gave me another chance after the stupid ass decisions I made when we were teenagers. Talk about ruining someone’s life.”
Wyatt looked up at the ceiling, shaking his head. “Even if I can convince Kelsey to give things a chance, I can’t give her any guarantees beyond I love her and want it to work.”
“Fuck, that’s all any of us can do. Promise to try and be willing to make sacrifices. Are you willing to do that?”
“Of course.”
Jace eyed him. “Even if that means working less hours and putting something besides work first for a change?”
Wyatt huffed a bitter laugh and walked over to the front counter, sitting on it. “That won’t be a problem. I quit.”
“Sure you did. I really would be stocking up on canned goods if that were true.” He squatted down to pick up the bottles of lube that had rolled to the floor.
“Then grab some corn and peas, brother, because I told Dad to go fuck himself.”
Jace stood, his green eyes wide, his task forgotten. “You’re shitting me.”
Wyatt rubbed the bridge of his nose beneath his glasses, exhausted all of a sudden. “I found out some things on the trip and confronted Dad. Turns out he’s been quietly laundering money for some of his bigger clients for years. He would doctor the reports before they got to me because he knew I’d pick up on it.”
“Holy fuck.”
“I didn’t want to believe it. But not only did he not deny it, he wanted me to take on Andrew Carmichael as a client and do the same for him. Like I’d put my neck on the fucking line and risk prison for that prick.”
“Christ. So you just quit? After all the time you’ve put in there?”
Wyatt released a breath. He thought he’d feel empty walking away from that building, grieve the years he’d put in only to give it all up. But all he’d felt when he stepped out into the sunshine in the middle of a Monday afternoon was . . . freedom. And possibility. The only sadness that had punctured him had been when he’d walked past the Sugarcane Cafe and didn’t see his pretty blonde waitress inside.
“I’m making Dad buy out my portion of the company and clean up his shit. A few of my clients will come with me, and I’ll continue to advise them. But I’m going to put most of my focus on the venture capitalist thing instead.”
“Wow,” Jace said, leaning against the shelf, looking genuinely awed. “So now you have all the time in the world.”
“I don’t even want to admit how many movies I’ve watched in the last two weeks.” Romantic ones to torture himself. Depressing ones to wallow. And blow-’em-up ones to forget all the others. Fucking pathetic.
Jace crossed his arms over his chest, compassion overtaking his normally cocky expression. “Don’t give up on her, man. Go get her.”
Wyatt groaned. “She doesn’t want to be gotten.”