Hard Beat

“She does want me, though.” I cringe when I realize I spoke my thoughts aloud. “Something’s off here, Rafe. My gut instinct tells me that —”

“Stop! Please just stop and come home. It’s one thing to throw yourself into the fire when you’re trying to save something, but there is nothing to be saved here. Do you really want to be burned at the stake for nothing?” he rants as I fall silent and try to digest everything and question parts of my own sanity. How long am I going to chase a woman who loves me but obviously won’t let me into her life? “Tanner?” Rafe’s concerned voice breaks through my musings.

“I’m on sabbatical, remember?” There’s resignation front and center in my voice as I end the call without another word. Let him worry about what I’m going to do next since it’s none of his damn business. Fuck. I blow out a breath and rest my head against the steering wheel to try to come to grips with my warring thoughts and what he said.

Nothing makes sense, and yet I gave it all I’ve got. I can’t keep throwing good after bad no matter how much it hurts to walk away.

But that’s what I’m going to do. It’s what I have to do. I’m not a man who grovels. I’m a man who falls in and out of love at the flick of a switch, a paradox as Stella called me, and so I’m just going to get my shit from my hotel room, hop on a plane, and leave everything I thought I wanted behind so that I can force myself to fall back out of love.

It can’t be that hard to do. I’ve done it a hundred times before.

Even I don’t believe my own lies this time.





Chapter 28





“A

re you seriously going to pass up that wave, Thomas?” the voice calls out behind me in a tone that has me rolling my eyes and raising my middle finger to my brother-in-law when he paddles up behind me.

“It wasn’t good.”

“That’s what you said about the one before that and then the one before that. That photographer still have your dick in a twist?”

“Humph.” Even two weeks after my visit to Kansas, I still don’t understand things any better than I did that night. I can’t tell if the whole situation is killing me or making me stronger, but I know that the hurt’s turned to anger and the disbelief to resentment. The one thing I know for sure is that the unknown still looms like a weight in my chest that I’m slowly ignoring more and more, bit by bit, day by day.

But that twist? It’s still there.

“So more like kinked than twisted now?” he says, earning a smile from me.

“Something like that.” I exhale loudly, not in the mood to talk, not in the mood to surf either now that I think about it. But there’s nothing like getting out in the water to clear your head. The sun feels good on my face, and the water steadily lapping over my legs on the board unwinds me bit by bit. I almost don’t even care if I catch a wave or not because for the first time in forever it feels like I can relax – ironic in itself since I haven’t gone on a story in almost two months.

And usually that’s the only thing that can relax me.

“Kink can be good, brother,” he says, and lifts one eyebrow with a smirk.

I flash him a warning look. “I don’t want to know,” I say, drawing a laugh because I sure as hell don’t want to even remotely know anything about my sister’s sex life. Our eyes hold for a minute, and I can see him trying to figure out how to get to whatever he wants to say. “Just lay it on me, man,” I finally tell him. As much as I’ll take a day surfing at Trestles, I also know that Colton had an ulterior motive when he asked me to meet him here.

His was the same motive my sister’s had with every phone call she’s made in the two weeks since I’ve been back from Kansas: to see how I’m doing or try to get me out of the house. To make sure I’m not wallowing in whatever it is I’m supposedly wallowing in.

Oh yeah, heartbreak. That’s what it’s called.

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