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“His beautiful blue eyes?” I ask and smile at how he’s painfully handsome.
Shaking her head, Suzanne explains, “He doesn’t remind me of Urick. Not even one little bit. And I loved your father once. But Walla Walla’s entire demeanor, his looks, just everything about him seems so different than Urick. I don’t know why I feel like that makes him right for you.”
“I’m going to fail,” I admit, tearing up as my voice breaks. “Walla Walla is everything I hoped. He’s been so kind to me despite how erratic I keep acting. And he’s beautiful and strong. I’m fascinated by him, and I want so much for us to spend time together. But I know if we do, he’ll realize I’m a waste of his time.”
“Baby, you let what happened that summer to fester. It’s tainted everything inside you. Most of all, it’s made you blind to what others can see. Remember how you thought you made a bad impression with Katja after the first time you cared for her horses? You apologized for embarrassing me. You cried that day, too. But she called to say she hoped you would be their dogs’ vet, too. She was so impressed by you. She wasn’t kissing my ass, either. I could tell how she was a little surprised by how you didn’t treat your job in the flippant way many trust-fund kids treat theirs.”
After dabbing the tears from my cheeks, she lifts my chin, so I’ll meet her gaze. “But you were still certain you did everything wrong. I know parents are supposed to tell their children to trust their gut instincts. However, I think you should do the opposite. Trust signals from others, not yourself. The hurt-and-traumatized teenage Austen is still sabotaging you.”
Nodding, I exhale and feel exhausted. “I know you’re right about that night corrupting everything inside me. I can think logically about situations. I know the right answers. Then, the past sinks its teeth into me, and I start obsessing over how I’ll get hurt again. That voice in my head is always saying, ‘You’re too weak to handle this.’ Or ‘You’ll push yourself too hard and have a panic attack.’ ‘Don’t try. Stay safe.’ That’s what it’s saying now.”
“Well, I think you should listen to me over that voice. Because I want you to be happy, even if it means I won’t see you every day. Ideally, I could convince Walla Walla to move here, but he isn’t a young man. He’s lived his life his way for a long time. I can’t trick or bribe him into leaving what he clearly prefers.”
“It’s really silly to think he’ll still want me after the newness wears off. I might not like him, either.”
“When my love affairs ended, I was sad. My world felt shaken, yet I went on,” Suzanne says and caresses my hand. “You deserve at least one great love affair in life, Austen. Even if Walla Walla and you can’t make things work, there’s no harm in leaping into this adventure with both feet. At the very least, you’ll get to spend time with a handsome man who thinks you’re magic.”
Exhaling my negative thoughts, I steel myself against my usual sabotage. “Will you help me pack?”
Suzanne sticks at my side while I pick outfits. She puts back several of my dowdier choices. I scoff at the tank top she thinks I should try.
“If you’ve got them,” she says, flashing a gaze at my breasts and then her own, “flaunt them.”
Smiling at her shaking her chest with vigor, I agree to the tank top and a few more revealing shirts. We’ve finished packing by the time Coco returns from her house.
“Where will we stay?” my friend asks as she enters the sitting room, where Walla Walla and Goose sit with their feet up on a table. “What hotel is closest to where you live?”
“I thought you could stay at the Pigsty,” Walla Walla suggests as he stands in a graceful manner and joins me on another loveseat.
I stare at him, both startled by his close proximity and the suggestion of bunking at his clubhouse. Suzanne doesn’t seem particularly thrilled about a place dubbed the “Pigsty” as my safe space in McMurdo Valley.
“That’s where you have your parties,” I mumble when his soft gaze reminds me to speak.
“It’s a former lodge. We have plenty of open rooms since so many of our club brothers have gotten hitched.”
Goose tugs her phone out of her pocket and finds pictures to show us. “This is the view from our family room. This other one is from my nephew’s birthday party.”
The Pigsty isn’t at all what I pictured all these years. Instead, the lodge is grand with high ceilings and handsomely masculine decor.
“We have an indoor pool and two kitchens. It’s like a little hotel,” Goose explains while Coco eyes the pictures. “Is that up to snuff for you princess types?”
“And this is where you live?” Coco asks, leaning over to see better. “It seems kinda stuffy for you biker types.”
Goose grunts in response. Coco’s gaze soaks in the sight of the cranky biker before smiling in an overly flirty way. Goose leans away as if she’s faced with a crazy person.
Meanwhile, Walla Walla next to me remains lowkey. Having gotten his way, there’s no reason to be smug about it. I’m already packed to leave. He can protect his club while winning my attention.
That dark voice in my head reminds me of how I don’t do well under stress. I’m no fun. I’m still struggling with those twenty extra pounds. I’ll never swim in front of him. I’m bound to whine a lot. I most definitely should stay home where no one cares what I wear.
I want so badly to listen to that nasty voice. Hating myself has kept me safe. Well, until trouble showed up at my clinic and burned it to the ground.
If living quietly hasn’t kept me safe, why not try living a little more dangerously? Especially when the prize for taking risks is this wildly handsome biker casually playing with a lock of my hair as if I’m all he’s ever wanted?
MARTIN
Austen sometimes forgets to be shy. She’ll drop all the awkward energy clinging to her and come alive in a real way. I don’t really need Austen to be rowdy or even brave. I just want her to be happy. When she smiles, I can’t see anything else.
During lunch, I mentally compare the women my club brothers fell for compared to the ones my biological brothers did. My Carter family sisters-in-law came from the right families, prayed the correct way, and wanted the suitable number of children. There was no magic involved. The women just checked all the right boxes.
