Page 48 of Don’t Go Breaking My Heart

I nodded, bracing myself. “Yeah. I am.”

He leaned on the bar, his voice low and serious for once. “Alright, then. Let me tell you about Kannon Warner. If you can handle it.”

21

KANNON

By the time we wrapped up for the day, my muscles burned like hell. My shirt was stuck to my skin with sweat and my mood was as sour as it had been this morning when Merritt bolted.

I didn’t know what I had expected when I showed up. Maybe to find her in the kitchen with her hair messy and a smug little smile on her face. I thought there might be a little flirting. Perhaps a stolen kiss or two.

Instead, she had sped away in a cloud of dust, leaving nothing behind except a hollow feeling I couldn’t shake. I saw her burn rubber down the street. I know she saw me. She drove away from me like the hounds of hell were chasing her.

I had pretty much mastered the art of the one-night stand and quick escapes. I had encountered the occasional jealous husband and boyfriend. And in all that time, I could honestly say I had never run out the door or had anyone run out on me.

Last night when she asked me to leave, I should have known something was off. Again, that had been a new one for me.

I spent the night tossing and turning, my mind spinning through endless scenarios of why. Maybe it was something I said. Maybe she was just testing me. Maybe she didn’t want me at all.

One thing was for sure—if I’d known the morning would bring such turmoil, I wouldn’t have walked away so easily. I would’ve asked questions, tried to understand.

I definitely wouldn’t have stopped the sex. I didn’t regret it. That had been something I wanted for too long to regret it. I hated to think she might be pissed at me, though.

Something about Merritt unbalanced me in a way that no woman had before, including my wife. I wasn’t ready to just let it go. I needed her to talk to me. Explain what the fuck was happening.

I hated the fact I had spent the day checking my phone like some lovesick idiot, hoping she would text or call. She hadn’t. And why would she?

I assumed she was at the cafe working. Maybe she wasn’t calling or texting because she was caught up in a meeting or something. That made sense. I considered going to the cafe under the guise of getting lunch for the guys, but she would see right through that. And if she wanted space, I would give it to her.

I told myself to let it go. I didn’t want to think of her as another one-nighter, but maybe that was all she wanted from me.

I had managed to get through the last ten years without her, even though her absence gnawed at me constantly. Then last night happened, and suddenly, I was right back to where I’d been at eighteen—drowning in her.

“Fuck,” I muttered under my breath as I flung my phone onto the kitchen counter. It clattered loudly, making a couple of the guys glance over before quickly looking away. I had brought on some of my part-time guys to try and get the job done quicker. I was taking a huge loss on the job, but I was doing this as a personal favor to Gary and Merritt.

The guys knew better than to stick around when I got in a mood. One by one, they made themselves scarce until I was left alone with my thoughts, which was the last thing I wanted.

I was done for the day. “Pack up,” I said to Luke. “We’re done.”

“What’s going on?” Luke asked.

“Just pack up,” I repeated, too tired to disguise the frustration in my voice.

“You’ve got a stick up your ass today.”

“Yeah, I do. Want me to pull it out and beat your ass with it?”

He chuckled. “You only get like this when you’ve got girl problems or you lost a lot of money. I think I know which one it is. Trouble in paradise?”

“Something like that,” I said.

Luke hesitated for a moment but then nodded, “Alright, man. I’ll leave you alone. But I’m here if you need to vent.” He put his tools away without another word.

As one of my closest friends and most loyal employees, he knew there were days when I wouldn’t open up, no matter how much prodding. There wasn’t a lot of soul-bearing conversations at our work sites, either.

Once everyone had left the house for the day, I tidied up a bit before I walked out into the gray afternoon. Grabbing my helmet, I swung a leg over my bike and started it up, the deep growl of the engine soothing my nerves a little. There was only one way to clear my head: riding fast enough to leave everything behind, even if just for a while. Maybe one day, I’d find the bike’s limit. Or my own.

It was a gamble, but right then, I didn’t care. I was going to hit the road and just go. I didn’t know where, but I was going to get there fast. I revved the engine a couple more times.