Page 65 of That Moment
I huff a breath that’s not quite a laugh. “Flirting’s not a crime.”
“Depends who you’re doing it with.” He sinks a shot, the ball rolling smoothly into the corner pocket. “I just never thought you’d actually go there.”
I take a long pull from my beer, let the burn settle before answering. I don’t know what he knows, but I’m not admitting to shit. Besides, it’s really nothisbusiness, now is it? “Didn’t say I did.”
He laughs once. “Yeah, and I didn’t just hear the guys talking about Adrienne’s car in your driveway.”
I don’t bother responding. The silence stretches until the jukebox changes tracks, Merle giving way to Skynyrd.
Axel straightens, resting the cue against his shoulder. “Seriously, man… is there something going on?”
I keep my voice flat. “Adrienne can handle herself. You don’t need to worry.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
“I know.” I tip the bottle back, stare at the bubbles sliding down the neck. “But that’s all I’ve got for you.”
He studies me, that half-grin fading into something more serious. We’ve known each other too long for bullshit. We worked the same ranch jobs as teenagers, spent half our twenties drinking beers out on my porch when his parents drove him crazy. He’s been like family. Which makes the weight in his voice cut deeper.
“I’m not trying to be an ass,” he says quietly. “You’re my friend. But she’s my sister. You know how this looks. You’ve had a reputation since before you even realized you had one. I just don’t want to have to choose sides if this goes bad.”
That lands like a fucking rock in my gut. I set the beer down and stare at the condensation ring bleeding across the table. “You’re not gonna have to.”
He arches a brow. “You sure about that?”
I meet his gaze, voice earnest. “I’d never hurt her, Axel. You know that.”
“I know you wouldn’t mean to. But meaning to and doing it are two different things.”
We stand there for a beat, neither of us saying what we’re really thinking. Him:Don’t fuck this up.Me:I already might have.
Frustrated, I grab my jacket off the chair, needing some air. He doesn’t stop me, but when I reach the door, his voice follows before I exit.
“For what it’s worth,” he says, “I’ve always trusted you. Don’t make me regret it.”
I turn just enough to meet his eyes. “Wouldn’t do that to you.”
Then I leave. The laughter and the jukebox fade behind me, replaced by the sound of my own pulse rushing through my ears and the weight sitting heavy in my chest. I’m not disloyal and I’m not a fucking liar, but right now, I have no idea what I’m doing.
I’m torn between being a good friend, a loyal friend to Axel and Aiden, and wanting their sister. I tell myself it’s all lines I can still keep straight. But by the time I hit the truck, I already know that’s a lie.
The barn is quiet in that way that instantly settles my racing pulse. Crickets outside, swallows tucked up in the rafters, Rosa’s soft huff as she leans into the brush like she’s been waiting on me all damn night. I work slowly, long strokes down her neck, the cedar shavings and sweet hay starting to finally slow my thoughts. Axel’s warning on a consonant loop since I left the bar earlier.
I grit my teeth and switch arms. Rosa noses my shoulder, sensing my stress. “Yeah, girl. I know, I know.” I stroke her nose, pressing my forehead against hers for just a second before my ears perk up. Tires crunch on gravel.
I go still. I’m not expecting anyone, and it’s too late for deliveries.
“It’s okay, girl,” I reassure Rosa as I set the brush on the rail and step out of the barn. I lift my hand to shield my vision from the headlights that turn off a second later. I blink, then squint, my eyes adjusting to the darkness. And then the driver’s door opens, and Adrienne climbs out.
She looks absolutely fuckable and cute at the same time. My heartbeat trips and stutters as I take in her outfit. Tight jeans that she’s poured into and a Henley that hugs her just right. It hits me low and quick how at ease she instantly puts me. The anxiety from earlier starts to melt away the second she looks at me.
Her eyes meet mine, and she grins, closing the door with her hip. “Hey.”
I can feel myself staring, and I really don’t give a shit. “Hey, yourself.”
She walks toward me, hands in her back pockets like she’s trying to play it cool. The closer she gets, the easier I breathe. “What’re you doing here?”
“I was bored,” she says casually. “And I wanted to see you.”
