Her laughter had followed him into the hall as he’d flung open the door and left.
“Jesus.” Clenching his abs, Tris curled off the bed into a series of sit-ups in an attempt to banish the latest round of memories.
The bunk wasn’t the best surface to work on. It gave beneath him, squeaked in protest as he ramped up the speed and drove himself deeper into the pain and sweat of pushing his body beyond its limit.
“Harding!” A hand slapped down on his shoulder stopping him from rolling up again. “Shit man, give yourself a break beforeyoubreak.”
Tris blinked sweat from his eyes and the grim face of Dylan Williams came into focus.
His friend and workmate shook his head. “I don’t know what the hell is up your ass but you need to get a handle on it. You’ll kill yourself at this rate.”
Shoving his friend’s arm away he sat up. “I’m good. Just cooling down.”
Dylan laughed. “Yeah, tell that to someone who doesn’t know what a hard workout looks like or that Lucky Dorsey just whipped your ass in the gym.”
Tris watched as his childhood buddy sat on the bed across from him. He could tell Dylan was winding up to say something and really didn’t want to be on the receiving end of whatever it was, but he owed Dylan. Owed his friend for getting him in the door of Station 8 and in front of Chief Maguire when Tris had made the decision to move into the house his Great Aunt Jane left him in Hope Falls. So he waited.
“Look.” Dylan ran a hand down the back of his head, gripped his neck. “I know something chased you up here and I’ve let you stew, hit the bar with you in those first few days, tagged along on more workouts than I need in my lifetime, never mind a few months, and it has to stop. Whatever you’re running from is eating you alive and you need to deal with it some other way.”
Tris smiled. “You get a psychology degree when I wasn’t looking?” he asked.
“No. But I know you. And at the risk of taking a fist to the face I’m going to go out on a limb and say it’s a woman who has you all in knots.”
He glanced away. Couldn’t look his friend in the eyes and lie to his face. “Nah, just had enough of the hot weather. Needed to feel some snow under my board.”
“Bullshit.” Tris’s gaze snapped back to Dylan who held up a hand. “I don’t want any details so you can keep your lies. Just stop killing yourself. It’s killingmewatching you.”
Tris could see the genuine concern in his friend’s eyes and vowed to pull his head out of his ass. But he couldn’t do that without closure and this thing between him and Covington would remain wide open until he dealt with it—with her.
The minute his shift ended tomorrow morning he would call Cov and see how she was doing. He knew through his limited conversations with Dirk that the two of them hadn’t gotten back together, but that didn’t mean she hadn’t moved on with someone else.
Even if she was still singlehe’dmoved on—started a new life. He might still be crazy about the woman and if she turned up on his doorstep he’d definitely invite her in, but that didn’t mean he’d change his mind about relocating to Hope Falls.
The small town in the Sierra Nevadas had been an oasis in the middle of his chaotic childhood and the minute he’d driven down Main Street he’d known this was where he was meant to be.
“Come on. The chief wants us to dig up that area out front where Tessa wants to put in a garden bed.”
Tris groaned at the idea of shoveling dirt.
Dylan got to his feet and grinned. “That’ll teach you for pushing yourself too hard.”
“He saw me come in didn’t he?” Tris’s thigh muscles protested as he stood.
“Yep.” Dylan thumped him on the back. “Who do you think sent me in here?”
Great. The last thing he needed was for the chief to think his head wasn’t in the right space or he couldn’t pull his weight.
He had two more weeks of probation then he’d be on the payroll permanently. Tris didn’t want to screw this up.
He’d fucked up enough in the last few months so in spite of his aching body he hauled ass outside and started digging up the hard-packed earth beside the stationhouse driveway.
They were halfway along the roped-off section when the chief came out and stood behind them. Maguire didn’t speak and Tris wasn’t about to open his mouth and invite conversation.
He shoveled and tossed. Shoveled and tossed.
The hiss and grind of an engine in bad need of servicing echoed up the street breaking his rhythm for a moment. Tris shook his head and kept shoveling. Someone was in for a world of hurt if they didn’t get that thing to a mechanic soon.
“What is that?” Dylan asked as he straightened and leaned on his shovel. “Jesus. It looks like a Cavalier.”
