Dustin’s eyes are bloodshot yet very clear when he stares into mine. “No one.”
I knew this would be my answer. I wanted this to be his answer in so many ways because finally freeing ourselves of Dustin frees up so much opportunity for Beau.
Still, when the door slams and I’m buckling my belt over my lap, I cry. I cry for Jett and the life that he never got to know. And as quickly as the tears start, they stop the moment I pass a Wrench Kings on my way through Willowdale.
Beau saying goodnight to Jett plays like a vivid movie behind my eyes.
“You’re an idiot,” I announce to my car.
Instead of double-checking Dustin doesn’t want in and coming to terms with what I lost, I need to be pouring every part of me into Beau. Because Beau is here, he loves me, and he wants to be with us.
That’s all that matters.
I call my dad.
“Yo, yo, yo, kiddo,” he answers, and it puts a smile on my face.
“Hi, dad. Can you and mom keep Jett a bit longer? Maybe another two hours or so?”
Without a moment’s hesitation, he says yes. And then I drive to the place I should have gone this morning.
* * *
Delane,who I’ve learned from Beau is a sharp, sarcastic introvert, takes an Earpod from her ear as I push open the door to Wrench Kings.
“Beck,” she says, surprise thick in her voice. “Hi.”
“Hi, Delane. Good to see you again.”
While I haven’t had a lot of conversations with her, I have seen her plenty since Beau and I were having lunch together at the shop here and there.
“He’s not here. He never came in today.”
My stomach drops as I twist my hand nervously in my purse strap along my shoulder. If I caused this man to relapse… “Oh no,” I say, feeling queasy.
Atticus pushes through the shop door, pausing when he sees me. “I’ll get him,” he says gruffly before disappearing behind the swinging door.
I look at Delane. She’s wearing a smirk. “You really care. You went white.” She pops her other Earpod back in. “That was a test. Beau’s our guy, and we love him. But I can tell… you do, too.”
I don’t answer her. And then, Beau appears, looking just the way I feel.
Awful.
He motions to the door up front, and we exit the shop for privacy. I don’t wait to sit on the curb; I don’t wait for him to say anything or even take another breath. I launch into my feelings because I can’t stand another uncomfortable moment where Beau thinks I chose Dustin over him.
“I was so busy trying to preserve an idea for Jett that doesn’t even exist that I hurt a person I care deeply about. That’s you. And I’m sorry.”
His gaze is fixed on me as he pulls an oil-stained hand down his stubble-coated jaw. My entire body begins trembling in response to his silence. And just as an ugly sob is working its way from my belly to my face, he pulls me into him, enveloping me in the deepest hug. He smells like motor oil and spicy cologne, detergent, and… my house.
When we pull apart, I curl my hand in his shirt and look up into his eyes. “You smell like my house.”
“I didn’t shower you off.”
I rock to my toes and find a healthy, hot kiss waiting for me on his lips.
“I’m sorry I said it that way. I was just hurt and feeling… lost.”
“No, I’m sorry. You trusted me to make you feel better, and I just…” I shake my head. “I had a good heart to heart with Goldie and she made me realize I was being a total jackhole to you.” Atticus sandwiches himself between the door and building as he takes one step out. “Yo, Burns, you got a call.”