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 grab my shit, lock up, and drive to Rhett’s place. He lives in town, in a residential area popular with local businessmen.
Rhett’s car is in the driveway of his gray, two-story home. The yard is immaculate—everything of Rhett’s is. He needs the outside world to see him as perfect because he’s such a mess inside. I ring the bell, and after waiting a few minutes, I ring it again. I know he’s here. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s watching me through the doorbell camera right now, so I look into it so he knows I’m onto him.
The door pulls open. Rhett’s shirtless and sweaty, hair damp with it, a towel slung over his shoulder, and he’s wearing shorts and running shoes.
“You can’t use the treadmill to run away from your problems. You won’t get very far.”
Rhett crosses his arms. “Does my brother know you’re here? I’m sure he wouldn’t like it.”
“Your brother knows he doesn’t control me, just like I don’t control him. We trust each other.”
“I can’t believe you’re with him. He abandoned you for ten fucking years, Dusty.”
I shrug because in some ways he’s right, but again, Morgan had asked me to go…and then he caught me kissing his brother. He had a right to be upset. “Maybe this is a mistake, maybe it’s not, but I love him. I’ve always loved him, and I know he loves me too. I was scared to hope before. I’d never forgive myself if I didn’t try to make it work.”
Rhett sighs, then steps aside to let me in. The inside of his house is as immaculate as the outside, not a thing out of place. It’s all decorated in sleek grays, black, and white. I go to the dining table, knowing Rhett won’t sit on the couch as sweaty as he is.
While I sit, he goes to the fridge and takes out two bottles of water, handing me one and taking the chair across from me. “Why are you here, Dusty?”
“Because we’re friends.”
“Even though Morgan is back?”
A pang lands in the center of my chest. “Jesus, yes. I told you that. Do you really think I’ll have nothing to do with you now?”
He groans, then swallows some of his water. “I don’t know what to think about anything. He brings out a side of me no one else does.”
“It’s because you’re a lot alike. That, and being pitted against each other as kids.”
“My dad wouldn’t do that. You sound just like Morgan.”
Sadness weighs down on me, like a heavy blanket. “Yes, Rhett. He would, and he did. And you were just kids, and neither of you knows how to break out of that.” And when it comes to Rhett, he doesn’t know how to ever feel worthy, successful, or important unless Gregory is proud of him, unless he’s who Gregory wants him to be.
“I don’t want to talk to you about him.”
“How he treated you the other morning, he—”
“Goddamn it!” he shouts, hand slamming down on the table. That draws my attention to the table, which is new, and looks homemade, which surprises me. “I said I don’t want to talk about it.”
The weight on me grows even more, but still I nod.
“When are you leaving?”
I should have known I wouldn’t have to tell him, that Rhett would know. “End of the summer. Even if Morgan goes earlier, I’ll wait until then. I don’t want to throw it on my parents too last-minute, and I have shit to figure out with the shop.”
“What are you going to do about East?”
I frown. “What do you mean? He’s going to stay working there. He’s going to help run it for me.”
“Do you think that’s a good idea? He’s irresponsible and doesn’t think of anyone but himself.”
“Jesus,” I snap. “Do you realize you sound exactly like your father? Do you ever give Easton the benefit of the doubt? Talk to him?”
“I’ve tried to talk to him, tried to help him, but he won’t have any of it.”
“That’s because you don’t want to be there for him, Rhett. You want to change him. You want him to fit into a box that East just doesn’t fit into. He needs a brother, not someone who makes him feel like shit about himself.”
“I love him. I just want what’s best for him.”
“You have to know him to know what’s best for him. What you and your dad decide someone needs isn’t always what they need.”
Rhett stands up and goes into the kitchen. I can see him from where I’m sitting at the dining-room table. He has his back to me while he washes his hands, something I know he’s doing just to get some space. He finishes, then dries them and walks closer, before stopping and leaning against the wall. “Why is it that I’m always the one who’s wrong? You don’t even like who I am, Dust. Not really.”