Bent not Broken (120 page)

“What about you?” I ask, my heart racing. I’ve never been one to be very direct, but I laid all my secrets on the table last night with him. He knows everything. Why not ask him about us?

“What about me?” he bites, his voice bitter. He turns to look directly at me. His eyes are narrowed slightly, and I can’t tell if he’s mad at me, or if the sun is in his eyes.

“What about us?” I whisper, almost hoping he doesn’t hear me.

“There is no us, dammit.”

I gasp quietly at his words. “Then what have you been doing for the last two months, chasing me around, kissing me, following me home, touching me last night. What was all of that if there is no
us?
Explain that, please,” I cry. I’m hurt and upset about thinking of how I almost slept with him last night, showered with him this morning, and how I told him every secret I have. For him to belittle what I thought we had or the trust I had in him and then tell me there isn’t an us is like a slap in the face.

“Jess.” His tone has calmed, and he takes hold of both of my hands. “There can’t be an
us
when your heart belongs to someone else.” His voice cracks slightly. “The way your face lit up last night when you told me about Gabe, even when it was the bad stuff, the hard stuff, I knew you loved ... I mean ... love him.” Tears trickle down my cheeks, falling onto my lap.

“Every time you mention Gabe, a soft smile crosses your lips, your eyes glimmer, and your face lights up. I don’t do that to you.” His words are laced with sadness. He reaches out and places his hand over my heart. “It’s not me that’s in there; it’s him.” My heart breaks with his honesty. Is it possible to love two men, but differently? Because at this moment, I know I do.

“I will never be that guy for you. I want someone who needs me to breathe, to survive, and to love. For you, that’s Gabe. It took me two months to see that.” Landon drops my hands and they fall into my lap. He doesn’t move, doesn’t look at me, or say anything else.

“Just call him,” he says solemnly.

“I’m not ready,” I whisper.

“You’ll never be fucking ready if you keep waiting.” Sliding my legs off of his, I pull them up to my chest, once again, feeling torn open, vulnerable, and rejected.

“I think I’m ready to go home now,” I quietly announce. My statement catches him off guard, but he must see the hurt and sadness on my face, just as I see it spread across his.

“Please don’t for one second think I didn’t…don’t want you,” he says, grabbing my hand again as I’m brushing sand off my legs. “For the first time in my life, I actually care about, love someone…you,” he pauses, gathering his thoughts. His blue eyes pierce mine as his hand squeezes mine.

“Tell me honestly. Last night when I was touching you…was it me you were thinking about, or was it him?” My heart stops. Remembering last night, my thoughts were of Gabe while Landon’s mouth and hands were all over me. As much as I wanted to be touched, it wasn’t Landon I wanted touching me, it was Gabe. Closing my eyes, I feel guilt wash through me.

“Tell me,” he barks.

“Landon, please,” I whisper.

“It was him, wasn’t it? It’ll always be him. If ever there was a day it was you and me, I want it all from you. I want your body, your heart, your soul. I don’t have that. He has all of that. When I touch you and you close your eyes, I want you thinking of me, only me.” His breathing is fast, his tone hushed, but full of hurt. “I may be making the biggest mistake of my life right now. But for the first time in my life, I’m trying to think of someone other than myself.”

We sit in silence for minutes, neither of us saying anything, just holding hands. I can’t deny that I have feelings for Landon, but he’s right; it’s Gabe that I love—that I will always love. Breaking our contact, Landon gives my hand a light squeeze, then drops it slowly onto my lap. Standing up, he brushes the sand off of his butt before reaching down to pull me up. Before he has a chance to drop my hand, I pull him to me, wrapping myself around him in a tight hug. Pressing my face to his chest, I feel his heart beating rapidly.

As I hold him, I realize his arms stay planted safely at his sides. He doesn’t return the hug. He doesn’t lower his head to kiss the top of my head as he usually does; he stands firm, hardened. Hurt rolls through me as I hug his tense body and get nothing in return. Releasing him, I quickly walk back up the beach toward the parking lot where his motorcycle is parked. Standing next to his bike, I realize he hasn’t followed me. Turning around to see where he is, I find him standing where I left him, down the beach, watching the now-setting sun; his shoulders slumped with his hands in his pockets.

****

Reaching for my phone to shut off the irritating alarm, I can hardly believe it’s Monday morning. The remainder of my weekend was quiet with the exception of the one hundred-plus text messages, phone calls, and voicemails that Lindsay left me, and I have ignored. Sighing, I kick the covers off of me and decide just to get on with this day and get to work.

Pulling into my parking spot at work, I grab my oversized handbag and trudge through the parking lot to the front doors. Weaving my way through the hallways and cubicles, I toss my belongings on my desk and boot up my computer. My head is pounding, and I’m not sure if it’s from the emotionally exhausting weekend, the lack of caffeine, or a combination of both. Lindsay stands quietly, almost studying me, at the opening of my cubicle.

“Coffee?” she asks quietly. Turning to look at her, I nod and offer a small smile. “My treat. Let’s go,” she says.

Following Lindsay out the same doors I just came through, I fall into her car with a loud sigh. Pulling the sunglasses off of her head and putting them on, Lindsay backs out of the parking spot. “You look like shit,” she tells me. “So does he,” she offers without looking at me. Sighing again, I figure might as well get this conversation over with.

“Are you going to tell me what the hell happened, or am I going to have to sit and watch the both of you be miserable and have no understanding of why?” Lindsay snaps at me.

“Nothing happened and everything happened, Linds,” I tell her, my voice breaking. “It’s so complicated.” Slowing to a stop, she turns to face me.

“He loves you, you know? And he doesn’t love,” she quietly informs me. Her hands are gripping the steering wheel and her knuckles are turning white. “There’s a lot about Landon and me that you don’t know, a lot of shit.” She pauses for a second, looking away from me and out of her driver’s side window. “I didn’t think he had the ability to love anyone, but he loves you.”

Guilt washes over me again, thinking back to Friday night and Saturday. The intimate, but also innocent, moments we shared. However, I’m more stunned at the information that she just spit out. What shit happened to them? Trying to swallow around the lump in my throat, I reach out and touch Lindsay’s hand, which is holding onto the steering wheel.

“There is so much I want to tell you; I really do. Just know that where we left things…it’s for the best, for both of us.” Why is that so hard for me to say? I do care for him, but I know in my heart that I love Gabe.

When she nods slightly, a tear falls from Lindsay’s eye and rolls down her cheek. She wipes it away quickly and offers me a tight smile. “I just want him to be happy,” she says, pulling away from the stop sign and focusing her attention on the road in front of us. “He deserves it,” she says quietly.

“I want him to be happy too,” I whisper, and I really mean it.

Chapter 41

Gabe

As I pull up to my house, I see it looks like a war zone. There are so many cars and trucks parked up and down the street and in the driveway. I don’t even know where to park my own damn truck. Luke is in the front yard, talking to a couple of men and appears to have things under control. Parking down the street at Mom and Dad’s, I jog the short distance to my new house.

For six weeks, my house has been under renovation and the finishing touches are almost done. Luke and I have been working opposite shifts so that someone is always at the house, supervising the chaos. Even though most of these guys are friends of Dad’s, I want someone around to answer questions and provide direction if needed.

Luke’s head is tilted up, watching the men install a new roof while scaffolding covers the entire front of my house, providing a lift for the painters.

“Hey, bro.” Luke turns toward me when he hears me jog up.

“How’s it going?”

“Coming along. They’re ahead of schedule. Man, look at how fucking good that new porch looks.” Dad talked me into tearing the entire old porch out and spending a little more money to build a newer, larger one since the old one was impossible to salvage due to dry rot.

“It does look good, doesn’t it? I want to go inside and see the kitchen,” I say, patting Luke on the back.

Inside, the house smells of fresh paint and wood sealer. We kept the original wood floors and had them resurfaced and sealed. They look amazing all cleaned up and stained. Every wall was taken down to the studs, and new electrical and plumbing was run throughout the entire house. In a sense, this is basically a brand new home.

We ended up making larger structural changes, and I have to say, it was so worth it. In the kitchen, I went with all new cabinets in a dark, rich cherry wood with light brown granite counters. A new large kitchen island was installed with a smaller second sink off to one side, and overhead pendant lighting that drops over the center of the island.

I hate cooking and don’t plan to spend much time in this room, but I’d say that this is impressive. Top of the line stainless steel appliances complete the kitchen. Dad said it was important to have an upgraded kitchen for resale, as this is the room that will typically sell a house.

There are men moving all around the house, coming and going through every door. New tile was installed in the kitchen and the bathrooms, and now, all new fixtures are going into both bathrooms. I’m really happy with the results and how quickly the remodel has happened.

“So,” Luke says. “You’ll be around for the next couple of days to wrap up all the loose ends around here, right?”

“Yep.” I nod as I take in all the small details that have really transformed this old house.

“After today, all that’s left is new trim throughout the house and finishing up the exterior. I’m glad you went with all new windows,” he says, turning around to notice the expansive living room. “Really opened up this room.”

I nod my head in agreement. I went well over my initial budget, but every penny was worth it as I look around at how this bungalow was transformed.

“So have you decided what you’re, ah, going to do with it yet?” Luke asks. We haven’t discussed this part of it. Do I sell it? I designed this place with Jess in mind. All of this was what she mentioned she would love or showed me pictures of. Or do I stay for a while? Settle into the first home I’ve ever bought?

“Not sure yet,” I reply honestly, because I really don’t know what I’m going to do. Dad thinks I should list it right away, positive that it will sell and make me a large profit in the improving housing market. But this house holds a bit of sentimental value for me, and I’m not sure if I’m ready to cut it loose yet.

Luke nods in understanding but doesn’t press me further. Juan, the general contractor and foreman, walks up to Luke, asking some questions that I’ll let him handle since my cell phone is vibrating in my pocket. Stepping out onto the front patio to take the call, I see that it’s from an unknown caller.

“Hello?”

“Is this Gabe Garcia?” the voice on the other end of the phone asks.

“Yes, how can I help you?” I question the caller.

“My name is Landon Christianson. I need to speak with you about Jess.” My heart stops at the sound of her name.

“Is she okay?” I panic.

“She’s fine. Kind of. Do you have a minute to talk?”

****

I’m not even sure I heard every word Landon said. He spoke fast, and I mostly remained quiet, listening to him while trying to wrap my brain around everything he was telling me. Jess is in Wilmington, North Carolina. She’s afraid to call me. She doesn’t know he’s calling. He’s a friend, and she needs me.

Shoving my phone back in my pocket, I try to absorb everything that was just thrown at me. I feel my phone vibrate in my pocket with the text message I was just promised, providing an address of where I can find her. My thoughts and heart are all over the place. What should I do? What do I want to do? The front door opens and Luke meets me on the patio.

“Everything okay? You look a little pale,” he says, concerned as he walks over to me. Shaking my head, I’m still trying to gather my thoughts.

“Who was that?” he asks.

“Landon Christianson.”

“Who the fuck is that?”

“I’m not really sure. He called me about Jess,” I say. Luke’s eyebrows shoot up so high on his forehead, they almost meet his hairline.

“Jess, Jess?” he asks. “Our Jess? What about her? Is she okay?”

“I don’t know. All I know is she’s in North Carolina, and he says she needs me.”

“North Carolina? What the fuck is she doing there?”

“I don’t know. He wants me to go there.”

“Fuck,” Luke responds quietly, and I can’t think of a better word at this time myself. “So are you going to go?”

Turning around to look at the house, I contemplate for a few seconds, but I already know the answer. “Yeah. She needs me.”

“Don’t worry about shit around here. We’ve got this under control. Go bring our girl home,” he says as my stomach flips.

“What if she doesn’t want to come home?”

“Well, you’ll never know the answer if you don’t go. Go pack your shit right now.”

****

Sitting at the gate with my boarding pass in hand, I feel the exhaustion of the last twenty-four hours sink in. Work was a bitch; we had calls all night long, and I didn’t sleep for more than an hour at a time. Within seconds of taking Landon’s call, I knew there was only one option; I had to go to North Carolina. Spending the next few hours making arrangements for Dad or Luke to be around to oversee the final day’s worth of work at my house and getting my shit packed, I’m dead tired, yet adrenaline courses through me at the thought of seeing her in a few hours.