Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 74298 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 371(@200wpm)___ 297(@250wpm)___ 248(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74298 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 371(@200wpm)___ 297(@250wpm)___ 248(@300wpm)
“I’m not kidding, Blue,” he said, his voice low and steady as he watched me. “My mom isn’t getting any younger. I’ve been gone for longer than a decade. So I talked it over with my family while I was there, and my brothers already have one of their fixer-uppers they’re going to sell me, and I’m just not going to be here anymore, Blue.”
It was as if my brain was suddenly moving slow, like I was swimming in molasses.
He really meant it.
I was stunned. Speechless.
I reached over to set my empty beer bottle down on the stump, because I was pretty sure with the condensation on the bottle, it was about to slip out of my hand.
I had always thought heartache was just a flowery term that country singers used in their lyrics and poets used to make people emotional. But in that moment, my heart ached. Actually ached. A dull, increasing heavy feeling behind my chest that was pulling me like quicksand.
“That’s incredible,” I managed to tell him, even though it felt like a lie. My head was still spinning. “That’s… great.”
On some level, I meant it, of course. I wanted Tristan to do whatever he needed. I wanted to help him flourish, no matter what that meant.
But I had also figured—goddamn stupidly—that Tristan would just always be here with me. That this crazy little town of Amberfield, Kansas was our forever home, and no matter where life took us, we’d be right here for one another.
Fuck. I had even pictured dozens of different futures. Tristan getting married and having kids, and me being able to be Uncle Jack. I’d imagined countless camping trips, with the two of us or with our friends and eventual families. I’d dreamed of starting a business with Tristan one day, if he became a general contractor himself, down the line.
And in one instant, all of those things I’d been so sure about had just evaporated into thin air.
“You’re full of shit,” Tristan said softly, reaching out to rest his palm on my forearm. I moved my arm away, but not because I didn’t love the feeling of him touching me. It was the opposite. I was just worried I’d blub like a baby if he touched me like that after the bomb he’d just dropped on me.
“I’m not full of shit,” I said, swallowing. “I’m happy for you. You should live near your family.”
“Yeah, but I’m not going to be able to live near you, anymore,” Tristan said.
I sucked in air through my teeth, looking away toward our tent. “Yeah, that’s kind of how that works.”
I got up and crossed over to our cooler, opening it up and grabbing another beer. I cracked it open and took a long sip.
“Jack, I’m so sorry.”
Damn.
He’d used my real name instead of calling me Blue. That was about as serious as Tristan ever got.
I finally mustered the strength to look at him again. “I hope you know that I would support you in anything you wanted to do. Okay, maybe not if you came to me saying your life goal was to steal purses from old ladies, or something. But I’m happy for you, Tristan. I promise. Your family deserves to see your shine, too. My lonely ass will get over being in Amberfield without you, okay?”
It still felt like a lie, even though I knew I meant every word. I pushed down every emotion that was screaming inside me, and instead, I bucked up and made myself show support for him.
Because Tristan deserved it.
And I was going to lift him up, even when I felt like I was crumbling inside.
He gave me a slight smile. “You’re not lonely, anyway. You’ve always got a million friends.”
I looked him in the eyes. “None of my friends are like you, Tris.”
He caught his lower lip between his teeth again. Christ, he looked so good, so apologetic, that it almost made me angry. “I know,” he admitted, his voice soft. “You’re still going to be my number one, you know that, right? You always will be.”
“I know, I know,” I said, waving him off. But in reality, it felt good to hear him confirm it.
The idea of being far away from Tristan sounded like torture to me. But I’d meant it when I’d told him I was going to support him.
And if this was what Tristan wanted, I was going to make damn sure he had the best summer of his life before he finally left Kansas for good.
2
TRISTAN
I knew hell had frozen over when I blinked my eyes open beside Jack and realized that for once, I had actually woken up before him. I’d beaten Jack Damien, the world’s most consistent early riser, to waking up in the morning. That was a first.
He was still asleep, the side of his body pressed up against the side of mine in the tent. It had been a balmy night, and both of us had kept our sleeping bags zipped wide open. Jack had tossed and turned a whole lot last night, and somewhere in my middle-of-the-night, sleepy-as-fuck brain, I had idly worried if he’d been restless or unable to sleep at all.