Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 77874 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77874 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
“Hey, Rhett doesn’t hate you.”
“I notice you didn’t say Gregory doesn’t.”
“Because he’s not worth our breath. I hate him and don’t care how he feels, but the truth is, he doesn’t like anyone but himself.”
I shrug. “That’s true, but he does hate me more than others.” It’s annoying how I say things like this to Morgan now, to Dusty too, and hell, even to Archer. Maybe even more to him. Before Morgan can reply, I say, “New topic.”
“Fine, but Rhett doesn’t hate you,” he reiterates. “He’s complicated. All of us are. He’s not perfect, and I still don’t know how to connect with him, but he loves you.”
He pushes to his feet from where he’d been kneeling to pet Pretty Girl. We stare at each other, I think both of us remembering the last time all three of us were in the same room—at the police station, where Rhett kicked Gregory out, the man he used to idolize, and walked away from him…for me. Gregory didn’t deserve Rhett’s loyalty, Rhett’s love, but I still can’t wrap my head around the fact that the final straw had been me. I both hate myself for that and feel luckier than I deserve. “Have you talked to him?” We head out with the dogs so they can go to the bathroom.
“No. I’ve tried, but he’s not having it. There’s so much anger and history between us. I can’t figure out how we get past it. I want to. I think we have a better chance now with Dad out of the picture.”
“Do you think it’ll stay that way? For Rhett?”
“Not talking to Dad, you mean?” He shrugs. “Hell, who knows. I hope so. He’s toxic. We’ve been through a lot of shit that was out of our control—Mom, Ella—but so much of the things that couldn’t be controlled were because of him.”
Ella was my fault. I told her where to hide.
East? Are you okay? You feel sad, my sister says.
I’m always sad, I remind her.
Morgan says, “I’m worried about Rhett. And I know you don’t want to hear it, but I’m worried about you too.”
“Got that good dick from Dusty, and now you’re in touch with your feelings?”
“This isn’t a game, East.”
I sigh. “I know.”
We both look out at my yard, watching the dogs.
“He likes her…follows Pretty Girl everywhere,” Morgan says.
Just like I used to do with Ella. “Yep.”
“You’re a good man, East.”
“Shut up.”
“I’m being serious.”
I don’t reply. A lot of the time it’s simply easier not to.
“You seen Archer lately?”
I groan.
“Okay, never mind, then. I have something else to ask you, though…and you don’t have to say yes. I want to make sure you understand that. I won’t be mad. This is totally up to you.”
My gut cramps, nerves ticking down my spine. “Just ask.”
“Can I name the bar Gracie’s? You don’t have to reply today. And again, no pressure, but… Maybe it seems silly since it’s a bar, but I want to honor her.”
My chest tightens. It’s hard to breathe. He wants to name the bar after Ella, wants to use her middle name, and he’s asking me. “She’s your sister too. You shouldn’t have to ask me.”
“I want to. She’s my sister, but she’s your twin.”
I can’t speak for a moment, feels like I lost the ability. My eyes sting. Morgan doesn’t have to do this, doesn’t have to use her name or ask me, but he is, and it’s so damn hard when people are nice to me. Sometimes it makes me want to lash out just to get them to stop, but I fight back the urge this time.
Because El would love the thought of something named after her.
I love the thought of it too.
He’s gonna name the bar after you, El. It’s gonna be Gracie’s.
I like that.
I know.
“Yeah,” I reply.
“You sure?”
“I think that’s a good name, Morgan, and…” Thank you. I’m sorry. I love you. “I’d like that. El would too.”
“Jesus. Thank you. I…can I hug you?”
Logically, I know this shouldn’t be a big deal. And it’s not in a lot of ways. I want to be close to him, want to be close to someone, want not to feel so damned alone all the time. I just don’t know how to accept it. To feel like I deserve it.
I nod, and Morgan steps closer, goes slowly like he’s giving me the chance to change my mind. His arms wrap around me. He smells like my brother, like home, the way family is supposed to smell, which sounds weird even as I think it.
“We’re gonna be okay,” he whispers, and I nod, though I don’t believe him.
He doesn’t hug me too long, something I think he does for me when really, there’s a quiet voice that I never knew was there that says, Hug me again. I miss that, being close to people. It’s not like I never have been. I fucked men, fucked women, had people hug me or touch my arm or shake my hand, but it never felt right. Never felt like the hug of a brother, like it does right now with Morgan. And with people I’m attracted to, it was nothing more than physical release, sating desire, not like Archer’s gentle hand on my face or how his lips felt against mine.