“What do you mean? Like what?”
“Well, his parents dying, for one. Conrad inheriting the ranch. Which, he always knew the ranch would be his someday, but knowing it’s coming in the future and having it dropped in your lap amidst grieving the sudden loss of both of your parents are two very different things.” Whit runs a hand over his mouth. “It wasn’t just that, though. He’s all I’ve ever known, you know? I met him when I was fifteen, working at that ranch. He taught me how to care for the animals and showed me the ropes, and when my family turned their backs on me, his welcomed me with open arms.”
He pauses, going quiet for a moment as he chips away at some invisible mark on the tabletop. His glasses slide down his nose a little, and when he shoves them back into place with his pointer finger, he glances back up at me before continuing.
“I fell in love with Conrad when I was a teenager. He was fifteen years older than me, and my feelings for him terrified me. He’s all I’ve ever known, and I never had a chance to figure out who I was separate from him. So, I guess, the short answer is that we grew apart. He didn’t seem to need me anymore, and I needed to learn to not need him either.”
There’s anguish in his words, all over his face. I want to ask so much more now that I have him opening up, but I don’t. Instead, I just say, “I’m sorry, Whit.”
“It’s all good. Water under the bridge.” He pins me with a stare. “Now, onto you. What’s going on with you and Sterling?”
Chuckling, I take a drink of my ice water before answering. “What makes you think there’s anything going on?”
“Oh, please,” he says with a snort. “I’m not blind. You were enamored with him the first time you saw him at Conrad’s withme, and again this time, except you also seemed pretty stabby watching him with Conrad.”
Shrugging, I guzzle some of my ice water. “Don’t know what you mean.”
Whit pretends to stab me in the hand with his fork. “If I had to tell you stuff, you have to too. It’s only fair.”
Pointing him with a stare, I roll my eyes. “Fine. We hooked up a few times on the road,” I offer him. “That’s it. It didn’t mean anything.”
Whit snorts out a laugh. “Famous last words.”
“Fuck off. I’m serious.”
“Yeah? Then why do you look at him like that?”
“Like what?” I’m being obtuse.
“Like you wanted to claim him in front of Conrad.”
Smirking, I reply, “Just because I’m possessive of my belongings doesn’t mean anything.”
Whit rolls his eyes so hard, I’m surprised they don’t get stuck, and all I can do is laugh and try to believe the words coming out of my mouth.
24
Sterling Addams
“Babe, can you cut up the watermelon for me?” my mom asks as she stands in front of the stove, stirring the pot of noodles she’s going to use to make pasta salad with later.
“Sure.” Setting my drink down on the counter, I grab the large melon out of the fridge, pulling out a cutting board and a knife.
Conrad’s property is buzzing with people from town. It’s the Fourth of July, and my mom offered to help host a party for everybody since there’s so much room here. This is her thing. My entire life, she’s loved hosting get-togethers and parties any chance she got. Back in Texas, everybody in our neighborhood loved our house for this very reason. She loves to go all out, feed everyone, and make them happy.
Quite a few people are already here and have been for a few hours. Daisy and Jessie got here not too long ago, and I thought I saw Cope and Colt out in the yard, but I haven’t spoken to them yet. Boone and his wife are here with their little girl. The onlyone I haven’t seen is Shooter. I don’t even know if he’s coming. Although, I don’t know why he wouldn’t when all of his friends are here.
Mom and I work in comfortable silence for a while, her prepping the pasta salad and draining the noodles, and me slicing the watermelon. She hums as she works, which is something she’s done for as long as I can remember. It’s either humming while she cooks, or it’s listening to 90s country and singing along to that.
“So, how you been enjoying the rodeo so far?” she asks after a long bout of quietness.
“I’m having a lot of fun,” I tell her honestly.
She glances over at me, her eyes wrinkling at the corners as she smiles at me. “I’m so proud of you, babe. I hope you know that.”
“I do. Thank you, Mom.”
Someone trudges into the kitchen, and when I glance up, my gaze locks with Whit’s. I’ve only met him a few times, but both times were less than pleasant. I get the feeling he doesn’t like me very much.
