Page 126 of Don't Go Faking My Heart

I get on the phone. I’m breathing so rapidly, I almost hyperventilate. Tripp answers on the second ring.

"Hey, man," he says.

"Hey, I need space for one of my workers to live on the farm."

"The seasonal worker housing won't be finished till next month, but we can clear out a cabin. What's going on?"

"It's Matt Peters. I need him out of his house now. I'll pay for his stay."

"You're not payin' anything."

"Tripp—”

"Rusty," Tripp says firmly, "don't worry about it. I can put him up."

"I know you can. But I can't risk y'all booking a big event and him having to go home—" a sob rips from my throat.

"I won't let anything happen to him. I swear."

Tripp sounds so much like his grandpa that I fight back tears. "I miss Tag," I say. "I miss him so much. I wish I could talk to him."

"Talk to me."

"You're more of a brother than a father figure."

"A much bigger, much better looking brother."

My laugh is more snot than anything. "I'm afraid, Tripp. I'm afraid of being like Arlo. I'm so mad all the time."

Tripp breathes heavily. "You and me both, brother. But you're nothing like Arlo. That guy would steal from an orphanage. You'd spend a summer building one."

"Yet it can't make me stop being so angry."

"Anger's not a real emotion. It's hiding something else. If you want to get past it, you need to figure out what it's covering."

I grip the back of my head and breathe in and out slowly. His words strike deep in my chest. "Thanks, man. And thanks for taking care of Matt."

"Anything for my tiny, baby-sized brother," Tripp says. "Rusty, you know I'm here for you. I may not have Tag's wisdom, but you're just as much my family."

"You too."

I end the call and rub my face with both hands.

"Hey stranger," a voice—my favorite voice—says. "Ready for that chat?"

I drop my hands and see Ash, her eyes red and swollen from crying. I'm not ready in the slightest. But after how I almost snapped at Matt's dad, I can't pretend I'm okay.

Ash grabs my hands and takes me to the side of the bar, away from windows or doors. The sun has already set, and the stars shine brightly in the night sky. It's too beautiful a night for the conversation we're about to have.

I take in a deep breath.

"Don't," Ash says.

"Don't what?"

"Don't say whatever you're about to say."

My head hurts from how tightly my eyebrows are pulling together. "I don't want this anymore than you do."

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