Unstable (14 page)

“Keaton, you’re not making any sense.
I’ve always been your plan?
What’s that even mean? Back then, I had a boyfriend, she had a crush on you. You knew there was no chance. And now? You haven’t seen me in eight years. Please tell me you made
other plans
. And tying me down? Rethink that shit right now, you lunatic!”

I plop down on the couch, arranging my pillow and blankets. If he’s not gonna leave, he can watch me sleep. I no longer give a damn. Except I half believe him and can’t totally rule out the possibility he might really tie me up while I sleep. He does, and he better hope I
never
get loose, ‘cause if I do…his ass better sleep with one eye open.

He watches me, losing focus for a minute. “Wait, are you sleeping down here? Have you been this whole time?”

“And just when I start to worry, you wow me with a keen observation,” I sass, laying down and covering up—seriously going to bed whether he leaves or not. I’m beat, so I’ll take my chances on the possible hostage situation.

It appears the answer is not. ‘Cause he lifts my legs, blanket and all, then sits down on the couch, settling my legs over him.

I try to move them, but his hand’s already there, tight grip holding them still.

“You know we’re gonna address you sleeping on the couch, right?” he asks. “But one hurdle at a time. I want to finish our talk about Hadley.”

I sit up as if I just got shocked, fightin’ mad. “Don’t say her name! Never…just…how dare you? I don’t…” my head dips, moisture mounting in my eyes, “say it out loud.”

“Why the hell not? If it had been you, would you want her to just totally forget, erase you from her mind? Hen, please, let me hold you. I can’t stand seeing you so broken, Darlin’.”

I peer up at him, shooting daggers through my tears. “I don’t need to be held.”

“I disagree.”

“I don’t care.
I
know what I need, not you.”

“Okay, so tell me. What do you need? Anything, name it, and I’ll buy it, find it, or make it for you.”

“Ugh,” I groan in frustration. “It’s nothing you can fix. I have to fix it for myself. I need…” I sniffle, wiping my nose on my sleeve which will hopefully gross him out enough to leave, “to find some peace, feel like they forgive me, decide if I’m meant to stay here. I don’t deserve to, and you,” I point a shaky finger at him, “have got to quit talking gibberish and messing with my head.”

“Hold on.” He pulls out his phone and starts pushing buttons.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m making a list. All the things we gotta work on. We’ll go slow, one thing at a time. But you mark my words, we’re getting through this entire list. And number one, we’re knockin’ out tonight. I’ve waited, oh, I’d say about fifteen years too many on an answer. So, we’re finishing our talk, about Hadley. Yes, I said her name. I always want to remember her, she was a wonderful girl and a good friend.”

I openly sob now, the blanket my Kleenex, and ask in an angry, mournful whisper. “If she was so wonderful, why didn’t you like her back? You know she had the biggest crush on you, and all you did was devastate her, over and over. I hated you for hurting her.”

“Listen to me. I
never
hurt her. Hen, she knew, we talked about it. She understood, and perhaps you’ve forgotten, but that last year or so, she had a boyfriend for God’s sake. Remember Justin? Nice guy, treated her very well? Which is more than I can say for yours.”

He glowers, his eternal hatred of Merrick gleaming in his eyes. I’ve never quite understood it, but I’ll be damned if I’m opening up
that
conversation. He’ll just add it to the list of things I don’t want to do.

“What did she know? You two talked, about what?” I ask instead, surprised I didn’t know about some secret talk.

“One day when we were alone, I finally told her,” he rubs my leg slowly and stares into my eyes, “that I’d been crazy about you forever. The first time I saw you, I thought you were the most beautiful creature I've ever seen.”

“Nice try,” I roll my eyes. “We were identical twins.”

“Maybe to a blind man,” he grins, eyes twinkling with smug confidence.

“Oh, please. We fooled our teachers, friends, even our own mom a time or two.”

He shrugs. “I don’t know what to tell ya, other than I could pick you out at a hundred yards, in the dark, covering one eye.”

“How?” I ask on a wisp of wonderment.

“Several ways. For one, and my favorite, is that fleck of gold you have in your left eye, right by the pupil. It hides sometimes, depending on what color shirt you’re wearing. And of course, there was your hips, much fuller than hers. Your lips too, but especially the bottom one. Your presence, dead giveaway. The air around you was always more serious, considering, guarded while Hadley was never anything but bouncy, happy, smiling. The way you mount a horse, left leg over first. You chewed your nails. You dressed more modestly. Want me to go on?” He grins wide, awfully pleased with himself.

“I never realized,” I mumble, utterly dumbfounded.

“You didn’t realize a lot of things, Hen. But Hadley did, and we discussed it. I told her, she was beautiful and wonderful, and I’d be lucky to be with her…but I wanted you. And I
knew
, if I
ever
, even once, went on a single date with her, I’d never have a chance with you."

“And these last eight years? You expect me to believe you’ve been pining away in celibacy, hoping I’d come back?” I let out a soft laugh, the notion ridiculous.

“Yes and no. I’ve been pining, and hoping you’d come back, but I’m a twenty-seven-year-old man, Darlin’. So yes, I’ve had my share of one-night stands. But nothing beyond that. Just a quick distraction here and there. You see, this lil’ brat sassed me, rolled her eyes, glared at me, argued with me, and insulted me whenever she could for so long, I’ll be damned if it didn’t stick. No one else has ever been able to hold my interest. It always came back to thoughts and memories of you, ruining any hope of moving on. I’d always feel like shit after, wondering where you were, what you were doing. If you were…happy.”

“Well,” I yawn long and loud, stretching my arms over my head, “I wasn’t. And even if I decide to forgive you about Ha—her, I still don’t feel right about all these declarations you’re making, and I certainly can’t give them anymore thought.”

“Why the fuck not?” he growls.

“Because, Keaton! I couldn’t live with the guilt. First of all, I’d have to know it really was okay with her, and,” my voice loses power, “I can’t ask her. And even if by some miracle, I came to terms with it, who’s to say I’d be interested?” I hold back my saucy grin. It never gets old—torturing him.

He taps something else into his phone, then looks at me with mischief dancing in his eyes and a sexy curl to his mouth. “It’s on the list. The first part, not the second,” he laughs. “We both know you’re interested. So, I’ll figure somethin’ out, because that answer? Unacceptable. I’m not backtracking now, Henny Penny. You’re home, you’re staying, and you will, finally, be mine.”

“You wear me out, Keaton,” I sigh and let my shoulders relax. “Absolutely wear me out.”

“Remember that line, just like that, all soft and sleepy. Wanna hear it in my ear while I’m on top of you, real soon.”

“Goodnight, crazy man.” I roll over, facing the back of the couch, ignoring my body’s reaction to his smoky, scandalous words. “Lock the door behind you.”

“Night Darlin’.” I feel his lips on my hair right before I fall asleep.

I WAKE WITH A
startle, not from the sunlight, but rather the weirdest yet most realistic dream I’ve ever had. If I didn’t know better, I’d swear I sat up talking to my twin sister last night.

It was so vivid; I could smell her, feel her soft touch on my arm, see the love and forgiveness in her eyes. I’d reached out to touch her and felt it, her skin, our connection. And I’d looked…my bottom lip
is
fuller than hers.

And maybe I’d dreamt this too, but…stranger things have happened, and I'm walking up the stairs to find her diary…because she told me to.

I stop outside our door and practice my breathing exercises, second-guessing myself. Did Mom change it, pack our stuff away, or am I literally about to walk into the exact same bedroom we once shared?

More importantly, if the answer is yes, can I handle it?

Only one way to find out.

I slowly turn the knob and push the door open even slower. My question is answered before I get it all the way open…by the smell. Do old houses hold scents better than others or what?

The unmistakable fragrance of her favorite perfume, came in a little bottle that looked like an apple, creeps its way through the crack in the door and washes over me.

Oh Hadley, I’m so sorry. I miss you every single day.

Nope, I just can’t do it. Probably imagining the whole thing anyway. I slam the door and run back down the stairs, not caring if I fall. Maybe I’ll break my neck and finally get to beg for their forgiveness in person.

That is, if I’m deemed worthy of Heaven.

So to say I’m in a foul mood would be giving the word
foul
whole new definition. I’m in downright, 100% Queen Bitch, Ruler of all McBitchland, mode.

Rooftops and thunderstorms.

Keaton and his flip-flopping from cocky, bossy bastard to poet, all his hearts and daisy filled proclamations of “plans.” Weird dreams where my sister seemed so real, so tangible…only to chicken out on the instruction I crazily swear she gave me. And the horses, their lack of care…that I fully intend to question Gatlin about as soon as I find him.

Yeah, today already sucks beyond measure.

If I don’t start my period any second, the icing on the cake, I’ll be shocked.

“Morning, Bourbon,” I say as cheerily as possible, filling his food and water bowls. “Do you know where Gatlin is, boy?”

Nothing. Even the dog senses it’s best to avoid me today.

“Alrighty then, I’ll find him on my own.”

I walk across to the barn and fire up the Gator, once again taking a moment to consider the keychain. It doesn’t say “Hadley,” or “HJC,” her initials—it’s just an “H”—representing us both. And the sign above the gate—still “
Double
H Ranch”—again, including us both. The pictures in her bedroom—of the two of us, not excluding me.

I’ve been begging for “a sign” when I’ve had several right in front of me this whole time. I just wasn’t seeing them for what they were.

My mom loved me, forgave me, and wanted me here.

The revelation finally sets in, for good, and feels…like I can breathe just a bit deeper, some of the weight off my lungs.

This is my farm now, my prophecy…and those are my horses.

Time to go find out why they were mistreated.

I find him in the back forty, mending a fence. Of course he’s shirtless, his skin glistening with a sheen of sweat, muscles taut from hard work. His build is leaner than Keaton’s, but just as tempting to ogle.

Lord, it’s hormone overload around here, coming at me from all sides. I came out here to chew his ass—not stare at it.

“Hey.” He strolls my way and I force my eyes to his. “Where you been hiding?”

“Oh, you know, rooftops.”

“What?” he laughs.

“No really, I was hiding on the roof. And the horse barn,” I edge my voice on the latter, watching his eyes very closely for reaction.

His gaze doesn’t change or waver, actually lighting up if anything. “Not even gonna ask about the roof, but it’s great you spent time with the horses. Kinda figured when I saw them out to pasture.”

“Yeah,” I drawl, “but I had some concerns I needed to ask you about.”

Now his eyes widen and he shifts his stance. “What happened, they okay?”

“They’re fine, but why were they in the stalls? Have they been there this whole time, since, you know? Their hooves were in pretty bad shape.”

“No, of course not. I’ve been taking care of them.” He crosses his arms over his chest. “I’d just brought them back in that morning to pick their hooves, but I had to stop to get the roof on the hay barn fixed. Good thing too, storm came no sooner than I got it done. So yeah, I’m a little behind, I admit, should’ve gotten to their hooves quicker, but they haven’t been cooped up or ignored.”