You just do what’s right for you, son. If you’re meant to be together, it’ll be what’s right for both of you. His dad’s advice echoed in his mind.
“All I can say,” Gavin said, “is that I don’t think Wren intends to go anywhere. And if she did, her address isn’t going to make a difference. You’re already all in, dude. If she took off tomorrow, it wouldn’t hurt any less because she lives with Patty.”
Just the thought of it made his stomach hurt. The first time had hurt so badly he didn’t think he could survive it, but he hadn’t seen it coming. This time, he’d had to really open up to let her back in, so the betrayal would be even more painful.
“I don’t think she’d do it,” he said. He wanted to say he knew she wouldn’t, but total denial of the possibility wasn’t the right answer. “But you’re right about the address, I guess.”
“Have you tried dropping hints? Try to feel her out without actually putting it out there?”
“You mean besides lingering at her door and looking as pathetic and lonely as possible while I slowly walk back to my Jeep?” He laughed. “Not really.”
“They can’t read our minds. And while that’s definitely a blessing about ninety-nine percent of the time, it does mean we have to communicate our feelings once in a while.”
“I’m going to think about it a little bit longer. Make sure it’s not an impulse triggered by being in New Hampshire with her—which I don’t think it was—and then I’ll probably bring it up.”
“Of course you’re going to think about it.” Gavin rolled his eyes. “Now, are you actually going to hit this bag some more or are we just going to stand here and talk all day?”
* * *
Wren was exhausted. The weekend in New Hampshire followed by working both jobs today because she’d taken the time off had wiped her out, but Grant showing up to drive her home had been a nice boost.
But then Gavin had called. He and Cait had been out doing some errands and then Aidan had called him because he needed somebody to shoot pool with and it turned into a bunch of them stopping into Kincaid’s “just for a few minutes.”
Nursing her one and only drink for the night—and even that might have her napping under a table, as tired as she was—she sat at a small table in the back with Cait and watched the guys argue over their game of pool. She wasn’t even sure what they were arguing about, since she didn’t know how to play, but it seemed heated in a good-natured way.
“So, is my mother driving you crazy yet?” When Wren laughed and shook her head, Cait smiled. “To be honest, I know I told you we’d all keep our eyes out for a decent, cheap apartment, but she loves having you there so much, it’ll probably be almost as hard on her when you move out as it was when I did. And, really, you’re probably going to move in with him anyway.”
She’d leaned forward when she said the last bit and dropped her voice to barely more than a whisper, but Wren still glanced at Grant to see if he’d heard. He didn’t seem to have, thankfully, so she whispered back. “Probably. At some point.”
Then she sat up straight and took a sip of her beer. “I actually really love living in Patty’s house right now. She’s like a second mom to me, and having a younger brother is fun. He tried to show me how to play his video game the other night and I was awful and he started yelling at me about some guy hiding behind a truck on the screen and then Patty was yelling at him to stop yelling at me.” She laughed. “I feel like part of the family more than a friend renting the guest room.”
“Because you are part of the family,” Cait said, raising her glass to clink it against Wren’s.
Warmth that had nothing to do with the alcohol spread through Wren and she was thankful she wasn’t quite tired enough to hit the weepy stage. It felt incredible to be part of this family, and she knew it wasn’t only because of Grant. She may have met Cait through him, but they were developing a friendship of their own that was probably one of the best Wren had ever had.
Grant rolled his eyes at the other two men and then walked over to their table. He pulled up a chair, which he sat on backward, and propped one arm on the back while the other draped across Wren’s shoulders.
“Whatever you ladies are talking about has to be better than listening to those two.”
“How do you feel about vegan food?” Cait asked.
“Okay, maybe not.”
“No, seriously. I found this great restaurant that—”
“Nope.”
“Grant,” Wren said. “You might like it.”
“I like steak.” He shrugged. “And herbed potato croquettes, as it turns out.”
Cait pulled up a picture on her phone and showed it to him. Wren laughed at his expression when he saw it, because he was clearly battling between liking what he saw and wanting to be stubborn.
“Okay, that looks good,” he admitted reluctantly.
“Just because it’s vegan, doesn’t mean it’s not good,” Cait said.
“I’d like to try it,” Wren added.
