Say You Want Me (16 page)

“Yeah.” I think about how they’ve used their powers thus far. If it weren’t for them, maybe Wyatt and I wouldn’t be going on this date. Or maybe this was inevitable all along.

“I’
M IN TENNESSEE,” I TELL
my mother as I sit on the bed. I haven’t spoken to her since I temporarily moved here. I’ve avoided her calls long enough. She doesn’t really care about me, she just needs to keep up her appearances. However, Presley sent me a text telling me that my mother has been calling her and the boys to check on me.

“That would’ve been something to tell me, don’t you think?” She pauses. “I shouldn’t have to find this out by talking to Cayden. Of all the things, Angelina, why didn’t you tell me you
moved
there?” I’ve barely talked to her this last year, but suddenly she’s hurt. I have so many spiteful things to say, but I also know she’s in pain. No mother should ever have to bury their child. Let alone knowing how that child died.

“I didn’t move here. I’m staying here for a few months.”

“Semantics,” she dismisses.

“Well, I’m really sorry, Ma. It was never because I wanted to hurt you. I honestly didn’t think much of it. You got the information from a few preteens. Maybe they’re assuming something else? I’m only staying for a few months.”

At least that’s what I keep deluding myself into believing.

Presley and Wyatt keep making plans for six months out. They’re completely ignoring my constant reminders that I have a business to run and a partner who expects me back in about two months from now.

“You never call me anymore,” she complains. “Your father and I are still alive, you know?”

“I know, and so am I, Ma. I’m alive. I’m here. But you only call me when it’s convenient for you or when you want to berate me. Why would I sign up for that?” I’m over being the reason for everything that went wrong. I’ve carried the burden because she needed me to. Well, now I need a little freaking support.

My entire life has shifted. Things are changing so fast and I’m barely able to keep afloat. I could really use my mother. Instead, I walk to the kitchen, grab a cupcake, and dig in. At least sugary sweets are always there for me.

She huffs. “I have a lunch date in a few minutes. I wanted to verify that my grandson wasn’t lying.”

“Nope.” I shake my head. She’s un-fucking-real. “He’s not lying.”

“Well, maybe when you finally stop being selfish, you’ll think of your family.”

Wow that hurt.

“Are you kidding me? I’ve done nothing but think of you guys. I think you forget a lot, Mother. Why is it so impossible to see that I’m not the woman you think? I own my own business, I bust my ass, I have great friends, and I’m doing pretty good on my own.”

Her laughter comes through the line. “Please, dear girl. You’re not married. You live in a tiny apartment all alone. You refuse to come to where your brother and parents are because you’re too proud or whatever you tell yourself. Every time I turn around I hear about some other silly thing you’ve done.”

“Wow,” I say on an exhale. “I never realized you thought so little of me.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” she says. “I never said that. I don’t, however, think you make the best decisions. You’re much like your other brother in that way. Not like Joshua.”

There you have it. I’m too much like Todd. I have a heart, and I’m not a calculating piece of shit. My brother has been married for fifteen years, has countless mistresses, and I’m pretty sure his wife is fucking the pool boy. Yeah, I should aspire for that life.

“Oh, well you’ll love this, I’m pregnant and living with the baby daddy. Thanks for calling, Mom. It’s always a pleasure hearing all the ways I continue to disappoint you. Don’t bother calling me anymore. Tell Daddy I love him.”

I hang up the phone and toss it across the table. She can kiss my ass. Everyone can. My anger rises, and I want to scream.

I look at the photo of Wyatt and his family on the table. They’re so happy and loving, then there’s my family. A sudden rush of emotion floods forward, and I burst into tears. I want that. I want to be loved by my mother unconditionally.

But I get her. I get the angry, bitter, and hateful woman who beats me down any chance she gets.

My feet are moving, and I’m out the door before I can process. I want to be around people who don’t suck the life from me. I really want to see Wyatt. He always makes me feel better, and right now, I need him.

As angry as I am, I’m more than that . . . I’m sad. It feels like each turn I make sends me heading the wrong way on a one-way street. I keep dodging cars and pedestrians, yet I’m going to crash. If I haven’t already. My heart is breaking because I’m alone. I know I have Wyatt right now, but that will change. I’ll go back to Philadelphia and be a single mom.

It’s the way it has to be. I can’t sell my company and come play house. I sure as hell refuse to move right now. I’m on my own. I have to be stronger than this. The truth is that I’m not sure that I can be tied down.

The walk there takes minutes since Wyatt showed me the wooded path between the two fields. I’ve taken it once before, but I navigate it fairly well this time, only tripping twice along the way.

I rush through the clearing and toward the barn. I can’t explain why I’m running, but I need to see him. I need his arms around me.

When I break through the field my breathing halts and all thoughts of going back to Philly fall away.

Wyatt stands by the fence, his back to me, with his shirt off. His cowboy hat sits on his head, but as he turns, I can see the corners of his mouth are lifted. I don’t see anything else but him. His jeans sit tight on his ass, and the sweat glistens across his back in the sunlight. I stand back, taking him all in, and realize I’m a fool. I could’ve had this man every night, but I’ve been living with my rules. Fuck the rules. He says he wants to wait until I’m sure. Well, I’m sure I want more than this. I know I do. I want to really give him everything and be together. I want Wyatt.

I start to head toward him, then he shifts over, shattering my new resolve.

Charlotte stands in front of him, her hand touching his chest, and I realize I wasn’t a fool.

I’ve been far from it.

He’s the playboy.

He’s the guy who sleeps around, and I’m the asshole he knocked up. I watch them touch each other casually, neither of them notice my presence. There’s no reason I should care, except that I requested that we spend these three months without him dating. I thought I was crystal clear at the festival. I thought I showed him that I’m going to really give him this time to see where we land.

This is one of those moments I know I’m crazy for standing here. I should leave, but I can’t turn my eyes away. I want to see what happens so that I can always remember. Protecting my heart will be easy after this.

Her head tilts to the side, and I imagine what she’s saying. “Oh, Wyatt. You’re so funny. I just love funny guys because I’m so dumb I don’t know how to be cute on my own.”
She laughs. “What is that? You think my boobs are real?” She shakes her head.

“No, Charlotte. I know they’re fake, just like your blonde hair, but I don’t care,” he says in my imaginary conversation.

“Want to touch them?” Her nasally voice suggests as fingers touch his chest. Then, she leans in.

“I would love that. I like boobs.” Wyatt’s hand grips her hips.

The bile rises, and my chest heaves. He’s touching her. She’s touching him. I know what’s going to happen next, and that will be the end of whatever I thought this is between us. I won’t ever be cheated on. I won’t ever be second best to anyone. Fuck that. There are too many reasons to be unhappy in this world, a man will never be one of mine. I want strength, love, devotion. I deserve that. I thought that’s what he could be.

Don’t kiss her, Wyatt. Don’t do it. Please don’t be that guy.

He leans in a little closer, and I fight my eyes to stay open. I want to look away, though. We’ve been living together for just over three weeks, and I’ve been . . . happy. I’ve had hope.

Her body shifts forward again, and I can’t watch anymore.

I turn around to head back so I can pack my shit. I’ll stay at Presley’s tonight, and then I’m going the fuck home. I get a few feet down the path and hear my name.

“Angie!” Wyatt calls out.

I keep going. These fucking hormones are making me weak. Tears form in my eyes, and my heart breaks a little. I don’t know why this bothers me so much, but it does. I wanted to believe that maybe there was something. Maybe I wanted there to be more. I needed him to be the man everyone says he is.

He’s clearly not. Or I’m not the girl for him.

“Angie!” he yells again.

This time the stupid tear falls. No. I brush it away. I will not cry.

His fingers grasp my arm, and I yank it back. “Do not touch me!”

“What the hell?”

“Don’t even act like you don’t have a clue why I’m upset.” I huff and step back.

He’s either the dumbest man alive or an asshole. Maybe a mix of both.

“Because of Charlotte?” He looks confused. “Nothing happened.”

“I know what I saw!” My tears fall freely now. It hurts. I’m so freaking confused right now. One minute I’m guarding myself against him, and the next I’m ready to fall head first over the cliff. My head is a mess. I want to cry and scream and kiss him all at the same time.

“Nothing happened, Angie!” Wyatt tries to convince me. “I swear! Why are you so quick to walk away?”

“I won’t be that girl! I won’t! I’m too old to deal with some guy who’s going to run around behind my back.”

“You’re being ridiculous. Absolutely nothing happened just now.”

“We have different versions of ‘nothing’. I saw it with my own eyes! You liar!” I start to turn, but then his arm is around my waist and he hoists me in the air. “Put me down you fucking asshole!” I yell, fighting tooth and nail against the way my body wants to melt against him.

His arm wraps around my legs, and he carries me like I’m a baby.

“Nope.” He trudges forward. “You’re clearly not going to listen. So I’m going to make sure you can’t run away.”

I continue to struggle in his arms, but he looks unfazed. I slap against his chest, but he pulls me closer. “Put me down!”

Wyatt stops walking but doesn’t release me. He lifts me a little closer so we’re nose to nose. “For the third time, nothing happened.” His eyes hold mine as he continues. “I wouldn’t let anything happen. I saw where she was going, and I pushed her away. When I turned around to walk away from her, I saw you and ran after you.”

My stupid, traitorous heart believes him. I can’t stop crying. It feels like someone is squeezing my insides. “I hate these hormones,” I mutter. Wyatt puts me on the ground but instead of letting me go, his arms snake around my back and he holds me tight. “I hate that I’m being ridiculous and crying right now! I hate that you affect me like this! Why do you make me weak? Why do the damn hormones make me a freaking lunatic?”

“Maybe it’s not the hormones.” My breath stops. I look in his gorgeous eyes that are swimming with some unnamed emotion, and I see red. Did he really just imply that I’m normally this nuts? Before I can start screaming again, Wyatt continues, “Maybe you like me. Maybe you see that I like you. Maybe it hurt to think that I would be with someone else?” Wyatt probes as his words sear through me, cooling my anger as fast as he ignited it.

He’s right. It is all that. He’s obliterating my defenses so effortlessly. I came here thinking we’d spend a few months together, and then I would be able to leave with no issues. It’s been almost a month and already I’m attached to him, which is freaking insane. It’s so soon.

Yet, when my mother tore me down, he was who I sought out. I wanted his arms to hold me. I need his touch to make me feel worth something. All I needed was to find the one person who would be there for me. Wyatt brings bold colors to a world where I was only seeing muted tones.

“You’re going to destroy me, Wyatt.”

He shakes his head. “I won’t.”

The war inside me is raging. If I give up the last ounce of reserve I have, I won’t be able to come back from him. He’s showing me day after day that I can rely on him, using his damn cannon to break down wall after wall that surrounds my heart. Seeing him with her hurt too much. I can’t be someone else’s second choice. I don’t want to love him and find out it isn’t really me he loves.

“Don’t break my heart,” I beseech. “Please, don’t make me fall in love with you if you’re going to break it.”

“What if I want your heart? What if I told you I had feelings for you months ago, before you were ever pregnant? What if I told you that after you left, I couldn’t see anyone but you? What if I told you that you and this baby are all I want? What if everything makes sense now, and I want you to fall in love with me?”

I close my eyes, letting each of his questions disintegrate another piece of my resolve.

I want him.

It’s clear now that I had no chance of keeping him out of my heart. It’s been weeks.
Weeks
. And he’s found a way in.

“There’s still so much we don’t know about each other.”

“We still have time to learn.” His eyes hold mine captive.