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With that, my guilt over the fantasies of her I’d been having compounded, so I cleared my throat and changed the subject again, this time really putting effort into steering our conversation away from his sister. We spent the rest of our breakfast chatting about the upcoming competition season, the STEM summer camp he was working to get up and running for budding engineers like Tucker, and looking at possible dates for our annual rafting trip.
Through it all, though, my conscience ate at me. Our friendship was changing, and this new distance I’d put between us—one he wasn’t even aware of—was uncomfortable. Like a favorite pair of jeans that just didn’t fit after Thanksgiving dinner.
And I wasn’t sure I could go back to how things used to be. Not after this time with Hazel.
Dylan was one of the best people I knew. And he had taken care of me. When I had alienated my family, threatened our business, and hit rock bottom, he’d picked me up, dusted me off, and propped me up while I got my shit together.
He had let me sleep on his couch and had listened to every one of my rants about Crystal. He’d been the kind of friend that anyone would be lucky to have.
And how was I thanking him?
By thinking about his sister naked while I jerked off in the shower every morning.
I was a piece of shit.
And Dylan was perceptive enough to know it. If he hadn’t figured it all out yet, it was only a matter of time.
Chapter20
Hazel
“You look nervous. Smile.” I resisted the urge to elbow this guy in the gut. Tim was ageless and pushy, and he was dressed like he was going to an art exhibit in Miami instead of a lumberjack competition in Vermont.
“I’m fine.” I shifted on the bench seat. I was in the VIP section of the small stadium near Stowe. The entire Gagnon family was squished around us, every one of them amped up and ready to watch Remy compete. This was the regional qualifier, which determined who could go to the National Championship in Wisconsin in August.
Because Remy had won the Maine state championship last year, he was automatically eligible to compete. That was a blessing because while he had done a few local competitions and exhibitions in the last few weeks, he still wasn’t at his best, and his frustration was weighing on him.
Today was a big day. He had been uncharacteristically quiet on our drive over last night, so I’d filled the silence by chatting about my research and random town gossip I had picked up from Bernice. And by the time we got to our hotel, it was late. Just like at home, we took turns washing up and then climbed into opposite sides of the king-size bed. At some point, we’d have to have a conversation about this bed sharing situation, because since my first night home after surgery, we’d kept up with it, but I didn’t want to burden him while he was working so hard to keep his head on straight.
This place was really something else. I’d been to a few of these growing up, usually makeshift stages set up in high school football fields or parking lots.
But the Northeast Regional Timbersports Championship? Professional lighting, a judging panel, and even fancy bathroom trailers.
It had the energy of a state fair, with food trucks and beer tents and all kinds of kids’ games.
It was perfect. The atmosphere was just chaotic enough that I didn’t have to talk much, which my inner introvert appreciated, or do anything more than watch what was happening, which satisfied the natural observer in me.
There were dozens of trailers filled with tools and so many teams.
Lots of beards, lots of plaid, and lots of talk about trees.
Remy and I had existed in our own little cocoon for the past couple of months. Between our quickie wedding and my surgery, we hadn’t really had to test drive our relationship around anyone beyond our families.
So I was more than nervous about messing this up for Remy. He’d already fulfilled his end of the bargain; I was two weeks post-op and feeling better than I had in years. Now it was my turn to help him succeed. But I didn’t understand this world or its expectations.
So I asked. Because in my experience, people loved to tell others what to do.
Shifting on the bleachers, I faced Tim and tried to muster a smile. “This is my first competition. Is there anything I can do to help Remy?”
Tim turned and gave me a curious once-over. “You know, very few of my athlete’s wives have ever asked me that.”
I pushed up my glasses and shrugged. “What can I say? I like research and procedure and rules.”
“Great.” He rubbed his hands together. “Right now, we cheer and hope he places in the top five. That will qualify him for nationals and be a great way to introduce him to a few of the sponsors who are here today.
“After that, you and I will head to the athlete area. I’ll introduce you both to a variety of people. Just smile, shake hands, and talk about how hardworking and dedicated your husband is. Easy enough, right?”
It sounded fine. And literally the least I could do for Remy. I gave Tim a smile. I wasn’t much for small talk, but if it helped Remy, I’d give it my all.
