Page 71 of Fourth Wheel
“None of what I feel for Tori makes sense. I know that. I’m still reeling from what happened… but I also realize how messed up it was. I made a lot of shitty choices. And even if I hadn’t, I doubt it would have gone my way. I don’t hate her. Or Rhett, for that matter.”
He crosses his arms and leans back against the kitchen island, seemingly lost in thought. When he speaks again, his voice is softer, with a tremble to its tenor. “I saw your face when you ran into the room this morning. You called her your fucking girlfriend, bro. And the fact that she can actually tell us apart… fuck.”
He shakes his head and smiles.
“If you want Little Wheeler, have her. Have her and hold on to her for as long as you can. Just stop using me as an excuse. You do it with everything—but you don’t need to do it with her.”
I don’t bother replying—some of what he says makes sense. But it still feels like a betrayal to let myself be happy when he’s so fucking miserable.
“I’m serious, Dumpy. You know I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t mean it.”
That’s true.
He reaches past me again, retrieving the toast that just popped up and plating it along with the eggs. Then he adds silverware and a glass of water to the tray and plucks an iris out of the arrangement on the island as a finishing touch.
It doesn’t feel right to be happy without him. But being miserable right alongside him hasn’t seemed to make a difference, either.
“I got this,” he says, lifting the tray and balancing it on one hand as he picks up his Dr. Pepper with the other. “Love you, bro. Have a good night at work,” he calls over his shoulder as he makes his way down the hall. “And hey. Look at the bright side. If you and Little Wheeler get married someday, maybe Tori will save me a dance at the wedding.”
Chapter 34
Maddie
Four Weeks Later
Daysturnintoweeks.Weeks roll into a month. Before I know it, I’m lounging in Dempsey’s arms, watching the annual Hampton Fourth of July Fireworks from my front lawn.
We spent all day sunbathing and playing in the pool. Dempsey bought fancy steak burgers from the butcher shop downtown, and I whipped up a fruit salad and a double batch of my mom’s homemade mac and cheese so he can take leftovers home to Fielding. It was a low-key day, and I loved every damn minute of it.
Rhett tried to convince me to come up to the cabin for the weekend, but listening to him and Tori fuck each other’s brains out while trying to hold my temper around Jake didn’t sound like my idea of a good time.
Dem told me it was Jake who outed us to Fielding. Something about that really grinds my gears. Yes, Fielding would have found out eventually… but what the fuck? Wasn’t that Dempsey’s news to tell?
The only decent thing Jake’s done lately is close Clinton’s and The Oak for the weekend. Last year, they were dead on the Fourth of July weekend because so many people go on vacation around this time. That means I’ve had Dem to myself for the last two days.
I sit up a little straighter, craning my neck to watch some of the lower displays as they explode in the sky. Even when we were younger, we could only see about half the fireworks they shot off at the park near our neighborhood. Now that the trees have had another decade to grow, I would put visibility around 30 percent at best.
It doesn’t matter. We aren’t paying attention to the fireworks anyway.
His hands are everywhere. His mouth keeps finding new spots to kiss and lick. I can barely lean back against him without wanting to straddle him right here on my front lawn and put on a different kind of show for the neighbors. The way this man has learned my body over the last month out-blasts every firework in the goddamn sky.
“I wanted to ask you something,” Dempsey whispers in my ear as he traces along the outline of my tank top. I look back, and he smiles down at me, his fingers dipping in and out of my shirt, mindlessly caressing my cleavage.
I’m always amped up and ready to go when we’re together, but there’s also a familiarity and comfort between us now. It’s this deep, delicious sense of ease that I’ve never felt around anyone but my family. Being with him has become second nature. I feel most like the version of myself I want to be when I’m in Dempsey’s arms.
“Would you like to go to New York City with me?”
I sit up so fast I make myself dizzy.
“Are you serious?”
He smiles and sticks his tongue in his cheek, peering over at me with this carefree, amused expression.
“Of course I’m serious.”
“When?” I demand, already visualizing my calendar in my head. I don’t have a work schedule to consider or much of anything else going on, but it’s already July fourth. And I’m heading back to California on July thirty-first.
“Next weekend?” he asks, as if it’s up to me.
