Winter's Path: (A Seasmoke Friends Novel) (21 page)

And you left me nothing more than words...unsaid.

Air trapped painfully in my lungs as the music rose, her fingers moving faster over the strings, creating heartbreak and loneliness. Her voice became desperate, belting out the next verses with her eyes closed.

I was screaming to be free.

I was screaming just to be.

I was screaming for someone to hear me.

I’m forever screaming for you to see.

I went willingly, willingly where you led.

And you left me nothing more than words...unsaid.

Reduced to words...unsaid.

The last chords echoed, hung in the air, and a beat of silence fell between her breathy whispered end and the roaring cheer from the crowd.

I learned, it seemed, more from her songs than I ever did when she spoke to me. Like she’d opened a vein with her lyrics, stating the things she dared not say aloud. And every time—every fucking time—it jabbed me in the ribs and rattled my heart. Cold sweat laced my skin and my stomach rolled in queasiness. I didn’t bother to question how or when or even if I’d hurt her. It was obvious I had.

Worse, so much worse, was the frantic wondering if I could repair us, our friendship. Undo whatever injury I’d imparted. The last person I’d ever want to hurt was her. She was...

Christ. Everything. She was everything. And the cold seeping out of my bones, filling my body cavity, reminded me I never should’ve started something with her. Not when I hadn’t a clue what I was doing.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Jenny

I
headed to Matt’s an hour before his guests were to arrive for his housewarming party. I timed it that way so there would be little chance for us to be alone. Wearing a pair of black leggings, knee-high brown boots, and a white fitted sweater, I donned my coat and checked my makeup in the hall mirror. Subtle, but I’d had to add concealer under my eyes to hide the shadows and blush to my cheeks to give some color. I left my hair down. Matt liked it that way. A girl needed advantages.

God, I was nervous as hell. Which made no sense. I’d known these people more than half my life. But Matt and I were a couple now. They didn’t know that, though, and the stupid, silly part of me wanted him to tell them tonight. We’d been together a couple weeks. Surely, he’d want us to come out while everyone was in one place.

Last night, after I’d sung and we got back to his place, we’d had sex. No talk, just sex. And though things had aligned like always and it had been great, the act lacked our usual connection. Like he’d been trying too hard. I couldn’t tell if it had been because he had too much on his mind or if he was beginning to lose interest. My gut said the latter. Things had been off for a few days now, and not just on his end. For a guy who told me I deserved everything, he didn’t treat me as if he believed it.

He’d said not one syllable about the song. Which hurt. A lot.

I’d slipped out of his bed before he’d awoken, and like a coward, had left a note. I’d allowed myself a good cry at home, then sucked it up hours ago so my face wouldn’t relay my heartbreak. I was probably reading too much into nothing. Depending on how tonight went would determine where we go from here, would determine just what kind of conversation we needed to have. A test, of sorts, to monitor how he behaved in front of the Seasmoke crew. And I always sucked at tests.

I envisioned his arm around me as Summer, Ian, Rick, and Dee arrived. Him laughing in that laid-back southern way of his.
Yeah, surprise. We’re a thing. It’s pretty new, but we’re happy. She’s what I’ve always wanted.
Then he’d kiss my temple, and I’d spend the rest of the evening at his side because he wanted me close, was proud of us. I’d feel silly for being worried in the first place, and we’d have a blast with our friends.

His parents’ car was in the driveway when I pulled in. I grabbed his gift from the backseat, something I’d put a lot of thought into, and hunched against the brisk wind to the door. Knocking once, I walked inside.

He’d lit the fireplace, which crackled and gave off a warm glow, and some of the candles filled the room with the scent of vanilla. Food trays were set out on the island and snacks on the coffee table. The TV was tuned to one of those music channels.

From the couch, his parents looked up at me and grinned. They rose for hugs and kisses and returned to their seats. I set my gift down.

Matt sat on the arm of a chair, focused on his phone. No bear hug like always. No huge beaming grin that he was happy to see me.

Confused, worried, I stripped my coat, hung it on the tree, and took a seat opposite them. “What’s up?”

His mom shook her head. “Matt’s debating real versus artificial Christmas trees. We’ve always had a real tree. I don’t understand the dilemma.”

“Jenny’s allergic to pine,” Matt muttered, gaze still on his phone, thumb scrolling. “Wouldn’t do to have her eyes swollen shut every time we hang out.”

Hang out
. Guess he hadn’t mentioned us to his folks. Something akin to dread sank my heart. He was acting so dismissive.

“Oh?” His mother’s wide eyes met mine. “I didn’t know that. And there we were, putting up a cut tree with you at the house. You must’ve been miserable.”

I smiled, shaking my head. “A mild sensitivity, is all. If take an antihistamine, I’m fine.” I’d hate for them to feel bad on my account or change their traditions. To be honest, it was nice to be invited every year, especially since Grampy’s decline. I’d be alone otherwise.

The past few years, I’d gone up to Greensboro early Christmas Eve, like we did before Grampy’s diagnosis, but I drove back the next morning after the Holcomb’s big breakfast to visit with him at the home, have dinner with him, open gifts. Last year, he forgot how to handle presents and needed help. This would be the fourth year he was too weak or confused to make the trip.

Matt shrugged. “I’m going with artificial. Pre-lit or not? A real thing would just die anyway since I’ll be up there for the holidays.”

Me
, not
us
. Another pang hit my stomach. A chill slithered up my spine.

His dad slapped a hand on his knee. “When are you two headed up by us? Bet you could save gas and drive together.”

Matt’s shoulders tensed. His spine grew rigid. All the color drained from his face. With a jaw tick, he froze.

He hadn’t looked at me since I’d walked in the door. He hadn’t offered any outward sign I was even here. He obviously preferred I not celebrate the holidays with his family like we’d done for more than a decade. Evidently, the thought of someone finding out we were together was crippling to him. Or he was done with me and didn’t know how to let me down easy.

Really. Did I truly think this would last, that he’d finally realize once we were together that I was it for him? Stupid, stupid me. History, my experiences, had taught me hope wasn’t for people like me, and I went and allowed myself to dream anyway. Sure, we’d been good. Yeah, he cared about me. But not enough.

And there it was, my truth. Oh, I’d rather have the lie.

I sunk my teeth into my lower lip to keep the threatening tears at bay. My pain didn’t matter. This was still Matt. My friend, my hero, a wonderful man. He’d saved me so many times, and I could help repay him with this tiny return.

Forcing a smile, I cleared my throat. “I might not be able to make it this year, I’m afraid. Grampy’s declined quite a bit.” It could be my last Christmas with him. Another chunk tore off of my heart.

Matt’s head whipped in my direction, eyes round, but I didn’t meet his gaze. Couldn’t.

“Oh, sugar.” His mom reached over and patted my hand. “I’m sorry to hear that. But you can’t miss our Christmas. At least come up for the Eve, would you?”

I could feel Matt’s gaze drilling me, but looking at him would eviscerate me, leave me in ashes. I didn’t want to peer into those beautiful hazel eyes and see anything but his usual affection. And it was apparent that was not the emotion he had for me any longer.

“We’ll see. I’ll let you know.” I brushed a nonexistent piece of lint from my pants.

The doorbell rang, and I didn’t know whether to be grateful or freaked out.

Matt pocketed his phone and swung the door wide, barking out a laugh. A swarmy of people flowed inside the room. Ian’s parents—the Memmers. Rick’s—the O’Callahauns. Our Seasmoke gang. Matt’s mom took gifts and set them by the fireplace, then led the older crowd to the kitchen. Matt took coats and hung them.

He swung Summer into a hug that lifted her feet off the floor. Her long, golden hair flew wild. “So great to see you. And what’s this?” He brought her hand up, where a delicate engagement band and tiny diamond winked in the light. It looked antique. “Now this suits you, as does the man.”

Summer, blue eyes alight, looked at Ian. “True and true.”

Matt’s smile was genuinely endearing, proving he wasn’t upset about his and Summer’s breakup. “So happy for you, sweetheart.”

She patted his cheek. “Thank you.”

Ian, being Ian, frowned. “Okay, okay. Hands off.”

Matt, laughing, set her down. “Relax, Memmer. You got the girl. She’s where she belongs.” They did a man hug/back slap before Matt turned to Dee. “Holy crap. Summer said you were preggers, but wow.”

Dee pushed her crazy brown curls from her face. “If you tell me I look huge, I’ll smack you. Hard.” She rubbed a hand over her belly.

“Wouldn’t dream of it. You look great.” He kissed her cheek and shook Rick’s hand. “When are you due?”

“End of March.” Rick tied his shoulder-length blond hair back in a ponytail. “I’m hoping for St. Patrick’s Day.”

Dee rolled her eyes. “As if he gets a say.”

Though I’d risen from my seat, I stayed where I was, letting them get reacquainted. But they headed to the small corner bar Matt had set up without noticing me. Awkward, I debated whether I should follow and say hello or sit back down and stay out of the way. In the past, Matt had always included me if Ian was occupied.

They were quite the sight, the Seasmoke gang. All three men were average at just under six feet, well-built with lean muscle and sharp facial features. Attractive all around. The women, like the guys, were different in skin tone and hair, but both had that willowy body type I would’ve killed to have and had at least a few inches to my elfish height.

Matt had once said he’d not felt as comfortable around them as he had with me, even though he’d known them since birth. That didn’t appear to be the case at the moment, or, at least, I’d never have noticed his discomfort. His aw-shucks grin split his face, happy eyes skimming from one to the other, depending on who was speaking.

Feeling out of my element and, to be honest, left out, I mentally bitch-slapped myself. I wasn’t shy. Reserved, at times, yes, but not shy. These weren’t strangers. Yet, my throat restricted and my eyes grew hot again. I was, in a way, the outsider. The stray they’d taken in.

What was this? A pity party? This wasn’t me. I had backbone, damn it.

Except Matt’s utter avoidance...hurt.

With my gaze on the floor in an attempt to collect myself, I didn’t notice Ian until he dipped his face to snag my attention. His black hair was a little longer than in July, just brushing his ears and nape. Dark as midnight eyes smiled at me.

I shuffled my feet. “Hi.”

“Screw that.” His arms wove around me for a hug I sorely needed and, as Matt had done with Summer, took my feet clean off the floor. Holding me suspended, he smacked a quick kiss to my mouth. “That’s a hello. Weird seeing you in something other than a bikini.”

I laughed as he set me down. “Weather’s a little colder now. Congratulations on the engagement.”

Like he’d done since the day we’d met, his gaze zeroed in on Summer from across the room. “Thanks. Hard to believe, huh? She finally noticed me looking, wanting.”

With a touch of melancholy, I was reminded of our long ago conversation regarding our affair and what would happen if Summer ever looked Ian’s way or Matt mine. “Not hard to believe at all. You were always meant to be. She just took a bit to come around.”

Slowly, he nodded and shifted back to me. He studied my face. “What about Matt? He aware of you yet? Nothing in the way now.”

I swallowed hard, working to keep my expression from revealing too much. Ian was very observant and Matt didn’t want them to know. But Ian sighed, catching on, and his smile slipped.

He tucked a strand of hair behind my ear in an old, familiar gesture. “What happened?”

I shook my head, but damn. Tears threatened. Breathing through the discomfort, I smiled. “He finally noticed.” Noticed, but didn’t see. Or didn’t want to. “We, uh, aren’t telling anyone. You know, taking it slow. Just don’t mention it, okay?”

Forehead wrinkled, he stepped closer and lowered his voice. “This was his idiotic idea?” Before I could respond, he kept going. “Why? Why hide?”

Glancing away, I shrugged.

“I’ll kill him. Did he hurt you? Use you as some rebound or something? At least tell me he knows your feelings go deeper than physical.”

My mouth opened and closed several times until words emerged. “I can handle it. Don’t worry.”

“You can handle anything, but you shouldn’t have to. Not from him.” He sucked air through his nostrils. “Is he too stupid to see what he’s got?”

“It’s not like that.” And because it
was
just like that, exactly that, I looked away. Leave it to Ian to blatantly state what I should’ve known and handled before we ever got to this point. Come tomorrow, I would deal with Matt.

Summer’s arms wrapped around me. “I didn’t see you here.” She pulled away. “I’m always afraid I’ll break you if I hug too hard.” Her smoky laugh filled the room. “You look wonderful. How are you?”

“Hanging in there, thanks. Grats to you.”