Page 27 of Rival Hearts

“Grady?”

“Go talk to him. I’m sure he’d welcome the help.” Inside, I cringed. I told Emily I’d only suggest Trent work with Grady if I was honest with him about my reasoning. But seeing him in person and knowing he wanted to help the town, gently prodding him in Grady’s direction didn’t seemtoowrong. Just alittlewrong.

“No.”

“Trent.”

“I went to jail, and he turned his back on me. There’s no fucking way I’m helping him.”

“He’s here now. Maybe you should bury the hatchet.” At least this part was honest. Their damaged relationship was a sore spot for Trent. One of them needed to close the gap.

“The only place I want to bury it is in his back. I don’t care that he’s here, just like he hasn’t cared at any point during the last six years since I got out of jail.”

I crossed my arms and let my gaze drift to the windows and to Grady holding court down the street. I hated how tall he was, how broad his shoulders were, how the late-August breeze caught the tips of his hair, ruffling them artfully. But mostly, I hated how guilty I felt because Trent and Grady drifted apart. They’d been tight when I first started hanging around them with the banter between them sharp but affectionate.

“If I could go back, Trent—”

“Nah, Mags. We’re not doing that. Last time you tried to play the what-if or if-only or what-the-fuck game, I told you to cut it out. What’s done is done. None of it was ever your fault.”

“Do you think we should have been more honest with people back then? Not that I wasn’t grateful.”

Trent laughed. “You got that persistence thing going for you. Not doing it. Here’s the bridge.” He lifted his hand in the air. “And here’s the torrent of water underneath.” His other hand ran in a back-and-forth motion. “You didn’t want to be honest with them, and I wasn’t even honest with you. Right? There’s no point in going down this river.”

I sighed. Trent was right. Looking back didn’t do us any good. We’d both made questionable choices, and it had led us here. Our relationship had been forged in a firestorm of lies.

“We’re not the same people.” My reasons for getting involved with Trent had been so flawed.

“Exactly,” Trent said. “Grady needs to get over himself. You can’t do that for him, and I sure as hell can’t. The truth doesn’t matter. Whatever pickle is up his ass, he needs to shit it out on his own.”

“You’re so articulate.” I laughed.

“Shut up.” Trent grinned. “I didn’t live for books and culture like you.”

“I’m sure your mom tried.” Outside the pharmacy from across the street, Grady cast another glance my way, and my heart thudded in response. Sabrina waved in the distance, drawing his gaze away, and my pulse rose into my throat.

Both of the men were rough around the edges, but Grady had spent enough time away from this place that he and Trent didn’t resemble each other so much anymore. Where one lacked books and culture, I suspected the other had eaten them like candy while he traveled the world.

“My mom was too busy scraping two pennies together to check what Grady and I were up to. Food on the table, roof over our heads. Dad was the reader. He died, and I stopped trying so much. I guess I don’t need to tell you that. But Grady clung to his memory, had a book in his hand a lot of the time.”

I remembered. One of the things Grady and I bonded over was books. Perhaps bonded was the wrong word. A guy like Grady reading literary fiction and book club discussion books? Impossible. So, I’d grilled him casually at the dinner table over the book I saw him reading before we sat down. He answered all my questions, and then when Trent and his mother were lost in conversation that bored me, Grady winked at me, amusement dancing across his face.

That had been the start of our book club for two. Each week, I would go to the library to discover what book Grady had signed out. Then, I’d read it too. Did he still go to the library, or had leaving Little Falls given him the escape he’d so badly needed?

“Maggie?”

Trent’s voice yanked me out of my head, and I flushed. I needed to get a handle on my obsessive thoughts about his brother. Wasn’t doing me any good. Emily was right. I needed to find a way to detach from Grady and those memories. They were like a faucet which hadn’t been shut tight, each drip designed to drive me crazy.

“Sorry. I was thinking about the campaign.” I tucked a few strands of hair behind my ear and avoided his gaze while I tried to collect myself. “What were you saying?”

“Can I help you?” he asked.

“Um.” I floundered to come up with a reason he couldn’t help me and had to help Grady instead.

His gaze bored into me. “Are you okay? You’re acting weird today.”

“Yes, right. Sorry. There’s been a lot going on here. Um…”

The bell above the pharmacy door sounded, drawing my attention toward it. Lila strolled in, pulling her sunglasses off her face and dangling them in her fingers.

---