The fight leaves him with a single deep exhale. “How can I expect you to trust me if I don’t trust myself?” His voice cracks. There is a slight tremor in his hand, and I grab on to it instinctively, wanting to ease some of his pain.
Our fingers interlock. Warmth spreads up my arm like wildfire, sparks shooting off my skin like embers off a flame.
I push the drink away from both of us. “You’re doing this because you don’t trust yourself?”
“Learning to trust myself again is a process.”
“Then find a different one because this is torture.”
His gaze lifts. “It’s not nearly as bad as knowing you still don’t believe anything I say.”
My chest caves in on itself.
“What do you expect? You hid a pretty big secret from me.”
“I’m going to fix it.”
“How?”
“It might take you a few years, but I’m pretty sure I can wear you down.”
My eyes widen. “Years?”
“All I have is time.”
“You plan on living at the motel for years?”
He recoils. “God, no.”
“Then what?”
He lifts my hand to his lips and kisses the scar on top of my knuckle before letting my hand go. “You’ll see.” He stands.
“Where are you going?”
“I’m going to go hang out with Wyatt.”
My brows hike. “You and Wyatt are friends?”
“He’s my sponsor.”
I blink. That explains why Delilah tried to stop me from making an ass of myself.
If only you had waited to hear her out.
“Will you be at the open house tomorrow?” His question comes out of left field.
“The open house? Why would I do that?”
“Because I plan on checking out the house and seeing what Ryder did with the place.”
I stand up on shaky legs. “Well, I won’t be. I have plans.”
His smile is a weak one that doesn’t sit right on his face. “Oh. That’s a shame.”
“Why?”
“Don’t worry.” He kisses my cheek before walking out of the bar, leaving his full vodka tonic and his sobriety chip behind. His absence only causes the chasm in my chest to widen even more.
Go after him, the hopeless romantic whispers.
I ignore the voice that has done nothing but get me in trouble and swipe the chip off the table before returning to my friends. The evening goes on, but my thoughts remain trapped in time, replaying Cal’s words over and over to the point of obsession. The only thing that strikes me as odd about our conversation was him asking if I would attend the open house.
The question came out of nowhere, and he seemed disappointed by my answer.
If only I knew why.
55
ALANA
The real estate agent sends me updates every thirty minutes about the house. According to him, we have three buyers who are currently engaging in a bidding war over the property. I knew that might happen if I set the price low enough to entice buyers, but hearing it from the real estate agent’s mouth makes the whole process of selling the house very real.
I resist the temptation to head over there and check if Cal showed up. Instead, Violet, Delilah, Wyatt, and I decide to stick to the guesthouse and our private dock out back. I want to take advantage of the last few times I’ll get to enjoy the lake with my friends before the summer is over and the house is sold.
No one has brought up Cal since last night’s trip to the bar.
Cami and Wyatt play in the water while Delilah, Violet, and I sit on the dock, soaking up the sun.
“Aren’t you a little curious about the bidding war?” Delilah nudges me with her shoulder.
“Not really.” I tuck my phone away. In the end, whoever buys the house will be inconsequential.
“I would be.” Violet reapplies sunscreen on her face.
My phone vibrates with a new text. I expect it to be the real estate agent with another update, but Cal’s name flashes across the screen.
Cal
Do you still want to check out the buyer interested in purchasing the house and see if they’re legit?
I consider it. When I told Cal I wanted to find someone who loved the house as much as me, I thought I could bear the idea of speaking with them. But the more I think about it, the less I feel capable of doing that.
No. You can handle it.
A text from the real estate agent pops up before I lock my phone, letting me know that he has asked everyone to give him their best offers.
Already? How is that possible?
I call him right away.
“Alana! You won’t believe it.”
“What?”
“We had someone put in an offer for two million dollars.”
“Two?” I reach out for Violet’s shoulder to stabilize myself. When I lowered the price to a million, I expected to barely receive anything over asking price, but to have someone offer double?
I might faint.
I can feel the real estate agent’s excitement through the phone. “Yes! I’ve asked the other buyers who are interested in the property to put in their final offers within the next hour.”
“But—”
“This is the best-case scenario.”
For him or me? Based on how much he is charging, the agent will walk away with a pretty penny once all the paperwork is done, especially if the buyers are driving up the price.
My phone vibrates with a new message from Cal.
Cal
I just heard one of the buyers mentioning how they plan on bringing the house down to the foundation and completely rebuilding it because they prefer a modern open-floor plan. Are you sure you don’t want to meet with them?
I jump up.
Hell no. I refuse to let anyone who wants to buy the house tear it down.
Violet peeks up at me. “What’s wrong?”
“Can you all watch Cami for a little bit? I need to handle something back at the house with a buyer.”
Wyatt waves me away like it’s no big deal. “We’re going to do an ice cream run in a little bit if that’s fine with you.”
“Yeah, sure. She has a set of clean clothes laid out on her bed,” I reply over my shoulder before stomping toward the main house.
Over my dead body will someone purchase the house only to tear it down. Cal and I did not go through the process of renovating the whole thing for someone to erase all the history and charm we worked so damn hard to keep.
I’d rather pick the person with the cheapest offer who might actually love the place than give it away to someone who won’t appreciate the property.
I walk into the house with every expectation of finding people roaming the property. Except when I arrive through the back door, the only person around is the real estate agent, who stands at the kitchen counter with his phone pressed against his ear and a folder with sheets spread out in front of him.
“What’s going on?” I stop to catch my breath after powerwalking over here.
He hangs up the phone with a smile. “We just received another offer.”
“Really?”
“Yes.”
Ugh. “So, there are four in total?”
“Correct.” His gleeful clapping grates on my nerves.
“Where are they?”
“Two had to go check out another house having a showing at the same time, but the other two are waiting in the living room for our final decision.”