AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I wrapped my arms more tightly around myself. I didn’t know what he was talking about, and I told myself I didn’t care.
“So… where does this leave us?” JT was hunched in on himself, defeat in every line of his body, his casual confidence erased.
I hated seeing him like that and knowing I had a hand in causing it. Part of me wanted to reach out and comfort him, which was probably a sign I’d reached my limit and then some.
If the whole concept ofushad seemed impossible before, it felt doubly so now.I sure as hell couldn’t handle another sad discussion like last night’s, brainstorming ways to string together bits and pieces of our separate lives and call it a relationship. But I also couldn’t handle ending things for good and knowing he’d fuck off to New York again permanently.
My stomach was full of swirling emotions, and I needed to end this conversation before I said or did something I’d regret. I didn’t want any regrets with Jon.
Not this time. Not again.
“It’s hard to think of an ‘us’ right now, Jon,” I admitted. “I’m angry. I’m hurt. And I really need to focus on my own things. Brew Fest. My family. Building something that endures, like you told Dan.”
JT’s eyes narrowed and darkened. He took a step toward me. “Don’t. Please, Flynn, I’m begging you, don’t build those walls between us. Don’t shut me out. Don’t try to make yourself hate me again.”
I held my hand up and took a step back to keep myself from leaning into his arms. “I don’t hate you. I… I don’t think I could if I tried.” It was a simple statement of fact. “But you’re leaving town tomorrow, right?” He blinked, like he’d forgotten that his real life existed, but I didn’t need him to confirm it because I already knew. “You have your own Brew Fest prep to do.”
“I can help you—”
“No.” I exhaled sharply. “The Fortress team needs you. So go back to the city and do your thing, Rainmaker. It’s for the best.”
I couldn’t bring myself to see the effect of my words on his face, so I spun around and headed for the front entrance, grateful for the auto-locking doors that let people out at night but not in. The cleaning would have to wait until tomorrow morning because I didn’t have enough energy for one single minute more.
“Flynn?” JT called from behind me. There was a different quality to his voice—something resolved and determined—that made me pause without turning around. “Tell me this one thing. Do you really think I’d ever try to sabotage you at Brew Fest? That I was hoping you’d lose? That the deal was more important to me than your happiness?”
I closed my eyes. I didn’t have to think—or overthink—about it. The truth was sitting right in the center of my aching chest, like a shiny coin peeking out of a vast pile of rubble. “No,” I admitted. “No, I don’t believe that.”
“Okay.” He sounded relieved. “Okay, then. I can work with that. I’m not giving up on us, Flynn.”
I shook my head. I didn’t know what he was talking about, and I told myself I didn’t care.
Since I figured JT would come looking for me at my place, I only stopped home long enough to grab my keys before hopping in my truck and driving out to the Retreat.
Despite the late hour, McLean seemed to have a sixth sense that I was coming. I barely knocked on the door before he threw it wide, then opened his arms so I could walk straight into his big chest for a hug.
My brother held me tight and let me sob like a fucking baby until I was worn-out and numb.
And then he shoved me into his giant bed, where Lily curled up at my feet, and issued a one-word command.
“Sleep.”
* * *
I slept. And when I finally woke up, the world looked a little brighter. At least, that’s what I told myself when my mind wanted nothing more than to pull out every sweet JT memory and fluff them into a giant bed I could curl up in.
“Coffee’s up,” McLean called from the kitchen in his deep voice.
I threw the covers back and crawled out of bed. My body felt like it had been through the wringer, but I couldn’t stop to nurse my broken heart. I still had loads of work to get done today before our supplies would be ready to pack into trucks to head to Brew Fest on Tuesday.
This was one of those times I was grateful McLean was the strong, silent type. We stood in companionable silence while we sipped coffee and stared off into space. Metric tons of unspoken words hung in the air, but I didn’t feel pressure to deal with them. McLean, more than anyone, respected someone’s need to stay inside themselves.
That was a good thing because I wasn’t sure exactly how I felt.
I loved JT Wellbridge. That was a given.
He was a lying liar. That was true, too.
And I was hurt, angry, embarrassed, and not at all ready to have a mature discussion about boundaries and forgiveness, let alone about what our future might look like.
