Page 76 of Terms and Traditions

Despite my near-comatose state, I managed a snort. That particular breakup had won the record for worst in our friend group history, and Liz had turned into a Jekyll-and-Hyde situation. She’d narrowly avoided jail time with some of her retaliatory behaviour after she’d gone all Carrie Underwood on his truck. And friends didn't let friends go to jail.

But she was right. This was what we did for each other. The four of us were ride or die, speak the truth when you didn’t want to hear it, and shoulder the burden types.

“Sleep,” Liz commanded, clicking off the lamp and heading for the door.

“Liz?”

“Hmm?” Her lithe silhouette from the dim hallway filled the half open doorway.

“Did I break Nash too hard?”

When she didn’t answer right away, my heart sank. I’d messed things up too badly, lashed out too desperately.

“I believe broken things can be fixed,” Liz said at last. “And often they’re more beautiful after because of the healing it requires. He’s not a runner, honey.”

Unlike me.

“You need to sleep this off,” she continued. “Then talk to him with a clear head. The problem will still be there in the morning. Sweet dreams, Stephie.”

I was asleep before the door closed, lost to a dark world of betrayal and toxic family relationships and the steadiness of a good man who stood in my corner. Fighting for me, fighting for us. Even when I didn’t deserve it.

I would trust him like he asked. Now I just had to hope he could forgive me, too.

Chapter thirty-four

Nash

I remembered nothing of the drive home from Stephanie’s. Just found myself sitting in the parking lot of my quiet apartment. Did I even stop at the stoplights? No clue. My chest ached with the swirling tension of our conversation. I hated seeing Stephanie cry, even if it felt so right having her in my arms. I’d put my heart on the line. I was all in to prove to her I wasn’t a flake like her dad. But then she lifted those hazel eyes to mine, pooling with liquid and regret.

I don’t know if I can stay. Talk about a sucker punch to the gut. She held my heart, and those seven words were a crushing weight against my sternum.

She’s not Alexis. I ran a hand through my hair, shoving my glasses back up my nose before plunging outside into the nippy cold. She was hurting. Scared, even. And I didn’t blame her for that. But Hiram’s threat didn’t scare me. No. What scared me most was losing his daughter. Because of that, I was going to prove myself to her. I’d sort this out exactly as I promised. I wasn’t imagining the connection between us, the way she’d become an important part of my world. If holding onto her meant exerting more patience and self-control than I thought humanly possible, so be it.

Once I reached the third floor, thankfully without bumping into any of my neighbours, I slipped the key into the door and stashed my suitcase in the laundry room to take care of later.

I studied the apartment I’d called home for the last nine years with fresh eyes, and it was cold and empty after the warmth of Stephanie’s cozy room and the nostalgia of the cabin. Look at me, calling that monstrosity a mere cabin.

My place had few personal touches. A stack of books on my nightstand and another on my coffee table. A few photos of Emmett's and Ryan’s kids and several of their drawings littered the front of the fridge. The pops of colour from the Christmassy throw pillows on the couch and the navy rug on my bedroom floor were Stephanie’s doing. She’d offered to spruce my place up when she first started working for me after taking one look at what she called my “jailhouse chic” style.

Steph.

For years, women had chased after me for my wealth. Never had I had to pursue a woman so deeply to give me a chance because of it. Now that I’d gotten a chance at forever with Stephanie, I couldn’t go back to just being friends or boss and assistant. Not after kissing her. Not after holding her together while she fell apart.

I’d pursue the heck out of her.

First, I needed to run despite the late hour. Because I was still human, and the upheaval of the last twenty-four hours had me jacked up on adrenaline and more than a little anger. There would be no sleeping in my current state. Trading my jeans and sweater for sweats and a Henley, I hurried back outside, letting my feet pull me towards the center of town. I had no direction or destination in mind. Just me, the open air, and the rhythmic whoosh of blood in my ears

Before I got too far, I shot a text to THE WISE GUYS chat. If I was going to go head-to-head with a business tycoon like Hiram and not lose Stephanie in the process, I needed help. Thank the Lord, I had two friends I trusted with both my business and my love life… as reluctant as I was about the latter point at times.

ME

Dynamite

Meet me at Maisie’s in an hour?

The use of our codeword was a rarity—almost sacred because it was a cry for help, no questions asked. Two thumbs-up popped up on the screen before I shut my phone off and started running, letting the cold air bathe my skin, cleansing my lungs as my arms pumped, my legs propelling me forward.

By the time I passed the clock tower in Riverfront Park and jogged farther along the river to the waterfall opposite the Monroe Street Bridge, I was feeling marginally better. A lack of oxygen replaced the pressure in my chest. I braced my hands on my knees, panting. Spokane in the post-Christmas haze was quietly beautiful. Like most of the world, that week between Christmas and New Year’s was something of a twilight zone, but that didn’t keep the holiday magic from the streets of our city. Setting up shop in Spokane had been something of an accident but not one I regretted. This was Emmett’s hometown, and he was the one to lobby the location idea after college. We might have had better success in a bigger city like Seattle or Vancouver, but I didn’t want to live in a rat race of never-ending bustle. Spokane offered us the best of both worlds—the busy hub between eastern Washington and the rest of the western states while retaining a quieter feel. It held a small-town charm without being a small town.