Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 79036 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 395(@200wpm)___ 316(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79036 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 395(@200wpm)___ 316(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
I automatically go rigid beneath him. I wouldn’t have wanted to hear that either. Dusty meant well, and he’s technically in the right, but I’m not surprised Rhett didn’t react well.
“You were just trying to be a good friend.” The words aren’t quite as sticky in my mouth as I thought they’d be. Do I love saying them? No, but I do love Dusty, and I want what’s best for him. He cares about Rhett, and if we’re going to be together, that’s something I need to get used to.
“Wow. Did you really just say that?”
“Did you honestly think I wouldn’t be supportive?”
He sighs. “That’s not it. I knew you would be. You want what’s best for me. You always have. I just…”
“You’re afraid,” I answer for him and hate myself because it’s true and my fault. Dusty is walking on eggshells not to upset me, afraid that if he does, he will risk what’s between us. “Don’t do that, Dust. Don’t ever worry about me leaving you again. Don’t hold back because you’re afraid I’m going to walk away from you. That’s like walking away from my own heart. I’m so fucking sorry I did that before, but I won’t again. Even if you can’t go.”
“I’m going,” he rushes out. “But I haven’t been a very good friend to Rhett, and I want to be a good boyfriend to you. I’m worried how my parents will react and…”
And was there ever anything more Dusty than what he just said? “You can’t be everything to everyone.” I brush his cheek with the back of my hand. “Not even me. We’re in this together. You want me to come to you with how I’m feeling, then you have to do the same.”
He nods, leans forward, and captures my mouth with his. We kiss until my jaw hurts. Until we’re both lost in the feel of each other again.
It’s Dusty who pulls away first, pressing his cheek against my chest. “We’ll have my parents over next weekend. I need to tell them.”
I nod, reach over, and turn out the light. Then hold Dusty all night.
*
Rhett has a porch swing like we have at home, only his isn’t the newer style Dad replaced the old one with. His looks just like the one we had growing up. The one we would sit on with Mom while she told us stories and read us books. If I didn’t know better, I’d think somehow, he found or kept the exact white swing, with the curved back and pillars on each end that looked like they matched the ones on the house.
Does he sit out here and think about her? Remember the sound of her laughter that was incredibly both boisterous and gentle at the same time? I can’t see my brother doing that. Sometimes I can’t imagine him doing anything other than work, but he has to have a life.
I’m hoping he doesn’t have one tonight, considering I’m sitting here waiting for him to come home and he’s obviously not expecting me. This is the last place I want to be, but then I think about Dusty. He cares about people more than anyone I know…he cares about us Swifts more than is good for him. I don’t want him to hurt. If there’s anything I can do so that won’t happen, I’m damn sure going to do it.
I only have to sit around for another ten minutes before Rhett’s car pulls into the driveway. I’m sure he noticed my car parked on the side of the street, and my assumption is confirmed when he gets out and looks around with wide eyes.
“Dad is fine,” I tell him, and he visibly relaxes. I push to my feet. “I organized it with the nurse. She’ll come in daily, though I don’t think he needs that.” Dad will take his medication on his own without us there harassing him about it. When we’re giving it to him, he just wants to be stubborn. “He also has one of those emergency buttons he can wear around his neck.”
“Like he’s going to wear it.” Rhett comes up the stairs, the top few buttons on his white shirt undone, his shirt pulled out of his slacks.
“That’s on him if he decides not to.”
“You left him to fuck your boyfriend.”
“I left him because he’s an asshole who treats us like shit,” I counter, exhaustion weighing my bones down. “He’s our blood, but that doesn’t mean we have to take abuse from him. We don’t have to spend our lives accepting bad behavior because we’re related to him.”
“He’s our father, Morgan.”
“That doesn’t change a damn thing.”
Rhett shakes his head but doesn’t say anything else. He just goes to his front door and unlocks it.
“I like the swing,” I say, and he stops midstep. He knows it’s like our old one. He did do it on purpose, and now he knows I know too. I’m…not sure what to think about that. It twists up my thoughts because that’s not something I ever imagined Rhett doing. He’s not sentimental in that way…or maybe he is, and he just doesn’t show it to anyone else.