“Wait up,” he hollers, jogging toward me. My hands fist at my sides and I press my nails into my skin.
“I thought you had brunch or whatever,” I say the minute he catches up to me. I sneer, not because I want to appear mean, but because I’m grossed out at my own jealousy coming through.
“Yeah,” he says, squinting his eyes as he pauses. “We ate, and then I told her I had a friend in town. She— She understood.” He drops his hands into his pockets and bows his head before popping his gaze up and lifting a guilty brow.
“She so did not understand,” I laugh out. I move toward Bailey’s house and Dustin trails along beside me.
“Yeah, you’re right. But we’re her biggest client and she can’t be that mad at me, so—”
“Dustin Bridges, flirting with his business partners. Tsk tsk.” I hate the idea of him flirting with anyone. I hate that she called him Dusty. I hate that I have to pretend it’s no big deal.
“It’s not like that. I swear. I mean, yeah, we’ve gone out a few times, but mostly for company. She’s a parts distributor, and—”
“That’s good. I can skip the details.” It’s easier to cut him off and admit I don’t want to hear about him dating than it is to get the visual of him with some casual hookup . . . for company.
“Gotcha. Okay,” he says through nervous laughter.
We both stare at the roadway while we walk, edging closer to Bailey’s house. I’m not sure which feels more awkward, this walk with Dustin or my impending knock on Bailey’s door. I think I’d rather have my appendix burst right now so an ambulance can haul me away.
“Where’s . . .”
He doesn’t say Jorge, and not because he doesn’t know his name. I don’t revel in how it makes him feel to see me with someone else. For a while, the thought of him being jealous appealed to the angry side of me. It quelled the hurt pieces. I’ve outgrown being petty, though. The pretense of my relationship with Jorge was never about hurting Dustin. It was about keeping Alex away.
“My mom put him to work. Bristol’s napping.” I lift my gaze to catch the pain wash over his eyes. He hides it, but poorly.
“Ah.” He nods. “She’s beautiful, by the way. She looks just like you.”
My throat burns hearing his words because the only thing I see when I look at her is him. That connection is even clearer now that I’m standing next to him. It’s the eyes—they both carry storms.
“Thank you,” I croak, keeping my eyes on the ground. One day, it will be impossible to convince others that she isn’t his. Maybe by then, I won’t have to lie anymore. But then, how do I tell him the truth? Will Alex ever not be in our lives? Will Dustin hate me? I can’t let myself go down this rabbit hole. It’s perilous and without answers. The only thing I can be certain of is the very real risk that exists now, and that is all I can control.
Our walk is interrupted by the Tingles’ SUV as Bailey’s dad drives by us and stops, rolling his window down.
“Hey, Hannah. Dustin.” No matter how hard he tries, I don’t think Mr. Tingle will ever fully like Dustin or me. Hell, I’m not sure he likes Tommy, but he’s stuck with my brother.
“Hi. I was just coming to see Bailey.”
“Oh, she’s not home. She’s out with her mom looking at wedding dresses or something. Women—they move on that stuff fast, don’t they?”
I smile and feign a laugh at his joke, but my chest hurts that Bailey is out looking at wedding dresses without me. I guess I haven’t been around for any of her and Tommy’s relationship, so I don’t have much right to demand to be included in the festivities. If I’m not in her wedding, though, it will crush me to the core.
“That they do, sir. Well, let her know we stopped by,” Dustin says, I think sensing I was struggling with a response.
“Will do,” Mr. Tingle says, rolling up his window and driving off.
I shrug at Dustin and point my thumb over my shoulder, signaling we should walk back, but he points the other way.
“Finish our walk?” He gives me a crooked smile and tilts his head, and for a moment, I’m drunk with temptation. It’s a harmless walk, and we’re being civil.
I miss him. I miss us.
That’s why I can’t.
“I should get back.” His gaze holds on to mine, and the disappointment swallows me whole.
“Yeah.” Those warm lips I miss form a tight smile and I hold my breath and stare at him for a few more seconds. I want to ask about Alex, to beg him to get away from that man, but there really isn’t an easy way out of our predicament. Dustin doesn’t even know all the moving parts. The only thing that could end this and make us right and whole is if Alex Offerman dies. I’m convinced of that. And I don’t dare put that idea in Dustin’s head.
The walk back takes half the time, the air between us crackling with all the unspoken words. He’s angry. I can tell by the way his jaw ticks and his stride has lengthened. I’m angry too. Only, I don’t even know who I’m angry at anymore. I think maybe everyone and everything but Bristol.
We reach the house and I stop in front of the Supra, knowing Dustin won’t stay. My brother isn’t here; he’s at their apartment or at the track. Dustin won’t want to hang out in the kitchen with me and Jorge, and it will kill me to watch him with his daughter. But I can’t let him go with nothing. It can’t be like this. It just . . . can’t.
“You should come for dinner. My mom’s making way too much food. And she knows you aren’t in Vegas.”
He breathes in deeply, seeming to consider my offer, and that hopeful smile plays at his lips again, barely. It’s a dangerous invite, but it’s also easy to explain his presence away. It’s Thanksgiving. I doubt Dustin would ever talk about me to Alex. And if any of Alex’s people see us together in the same house, they will see two people being pleasant to one another for holiday’s sake. I think he’s about to agree when the door opens behind me and my heart begins to crumble.
“There she is,” Jorge says a second before Bristol’s tiny hand works its way into mine. I look down and lift her up, situating her on my hip. Her mouth is ringed by chocolate, no doubt that my mom fed her and Jorge allowed to happen. I lift the collar of my shirt and move to wipe it from her lips just as the sound of a car door shutting draws my eyes back to the driveway. The Supra fires to life and Dustin flips up the visor, allowing our eyes to meet for one last silent conversation. It’s full of regrets and bitterness and desperate apologies. And maybe, it’s also full of goodbye.
6
“You’re sure you don’t want to partake in my mom’s epic feast?” Tommy turns his back to me briefly to fish out the six-pack of Heineken, his contribution for the day. I decided on my way home from their house yesterday that it’s probably best I don’t interrupt the Judges’ family time.
“Yeah, I want to visit Kyle and Myra later, in the Valley. It’s their first Thanksgiving since her divorce, and Kyle’s home from college.”
“I can’t believe that punk is a freshman.” Tommy sets the beer on the counter and smiles, showing his fondness for Kyle. They spent the entire summer under the hood, Kyle getting a crash course in all things Toyota and Chevy from Tommy and Douglas.