Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 74698 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 373(@200wpm)___ 299(@250wpm)___ 249(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74698 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 373(@200wpm)___ 299(@250wpm)___ 249(@300wpm)
I almost choked on my beer. “What?”
“Yeah, man. I know it’s stupid. She probably doesn’t see me that way, but I can’t help it.” Wade’s voice was raw, his vulnerability laid bare. His expression told me that this was serious, not a passing fancy.
I felt a whirlwind of conflicting reactions. I wanted to protect my brother’s feelings, but Holland was mine. We had plans. We were going to tell everyone tomorrow. “Wade, you’re not stupid. Holland’s amazing. Anyone would be lucky to have her. But are you sure this is the real deal? You’ve been her friend since we were kids.”
I know how hypocritical it sounded since I was in the same position and yet I made my move on her, but I was in self-preservation mode. It made me a horrible brother, but I needed to turn him away from this idea.
Wade gave a bitter laugh. “It’s real, Trey. Like I’m sick to my stomach with my inability to tell her how I feel. I can’t sleep. I can’t think straight. It’s like I’m stuck in quicksand and I’m slowly drowning.”
Jesus Christ. My world tilted as I took in the misery on Wade’s face and his words… his feelings… there was no doubt in my mind he was as genuine as anyone could be. I should’ve just told him the truth about me and Holland right then, but as I looked into those pain-filled green eyes, I couldn’t bring myself to do it.
“What should I do?” he implored.
I set my beer down, suddenly not interested in drinking anymore. “I guess the only thing you can do is tell her how you feel.”
And then get your heart crushed when she can’t reciprocate. The thought of that made me sick to my stomach too. The fact we kept this hidden for two months is going to make things worse when Wade finds out.
The fact I let him spill his guts and didn’t tell him the truth will probably damage our relationship.
Wade looked at me, his eyes pleading. “But what if she rejects me? What if it ruins everything? I can’t stand the thought of losing her completely.”
I was blindsided. I never expected this. “Wade, you can’t live your life wondering what if. If you have feelings for her, you owe it to yourself to tell her. But you also have to respect her feelings, whatever they might be.”
Wade nodded, his face a mix of determination and fear. “You’re right. I need to tell her. But… Trey, it’s more than just a crush. I think I love her.”
My heart plummeted. Wade wasn’t just infatuated; he was genuinely in love with Holland. An oppressive sense of doom fell over me. Guilt and responsibility warred within me. How could I support my brother without betraying Holland? How could I reconcile my love for her with Wade’s feelings?
Wade’s voice broke through my thoughts. “Thanks for listening and supporting me on this. You’re my best friend in the world and I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
I tried to lighten the mood by punching him in the shoulder. “Stop being a sap.”
“It’s true,” he said, eyes pinning me in place. “You’re always the one I can count on, no matter what. I think I’ll see if she wants to go for a ride tomorrow after dinner and I’ll tell her then.”
I managed to smile at him, but I couldn’t say anything because of the lump in my throat. I didn’t know what to do. I needed to talk to Holland, to prepare her for this. I’d go see her tomorrow morning while her mom was out to church and her dad would be passed out from the night before. We’d have to figure out what to do. How to minimize the hurt to Wade.
But right then, I was lost in a sea of conflict, unsure of the path ahead.
“Last chance to come out for beers with me and the guys,” Wade says, lurching me out of my memories.
I look at my brother and he’s nothing like the unsure eighteen-year-old of eleven years ago who crushed on Holland. I smile and shake my head. “I’m sure. You guys have fun.”
Wade’s eyes gleam mischievously. “We always do.”
CHAPTER 10
Holland
I’m waiting for Trey on the front porch of my mom’s house because if I remain in her presence, we’ll just argue. Since the revelation when the attorney read Dad’s Last Will and Testament that I, not Mom, own the printshop, we’ve been fighting continually. Her demands that I get it in shape and teach her how to run it is rubbing me wrong, and maybe I’d be more open to the idea if she’d ask nicely.
Instead, she vacillates between support of my desires to angry name-calling because I’m not giving her what she wants. I’m getting whiplash from the frequent changes and it’s made me irritable.