Page 39 of Strung Along
“Is that an odd way of thinking for an older-generation rancher?”
I slow the truck when her house comes into view, and I contemplate doing a lap around just to talk to her longer before flinging that idea into space.
“Not at all. But times are changin’. He doesn’t take my ideas into consideration often, and I think that’s because he doesn’t want to deal with the responsibilities of them when I inevitably leave again. I can’t make any promises to him.”
“What if it wasn’t inevitable? What if you stayed?”
I contemplate the questions, wishing I had a better answer. But the one I want to say just isn’t possible. Not anytime soon.
“There’s no use in hopin’ for the impossible.”
“I’m sorry, Brody,” she says.
I shrug nonchalantly, even as my chest grows tighter and tighter. “Thanks for listenin’ to that. I’m sorry to dump it all on you.”
“I asked. Despite the rocky start to our relationship, I’d like to be your friend. These are things friends know about one another.”
Pulling up in front of her house, I put the truck in park and shift to look at her fully, taking in her timid smile and cautious eyes. She’s most likely worried I’ll reject her, and I don’t blame her for that. Not after everything I’ve done and said so far.
I’ve taken the boot out of my mouth, and now I’ve got to earn the forgiveness she’s gifted me. It’s a shocking revelation to learn that I want to earn it and get to know her in the process.
“I’d like to be your friend too, Anna.”
Those timid eyes grow more confident as she reaches across the console to pat my shoulder and says, “I’ll see you tomorrow morning, then, friend.”
And then she’s slipping into the cold night, bundled up in a jacket that I can rest easy knowing won’t leave her teeth chattering and a pair of pink mittens on her hands.
I only head home once she’s made it inside and waved me off from the front window. The drive is as quiet as every other I’ve taken before today, and I find myself missing her chatter the entire time.
16
ANNALISE
“You’ve been holdingout on us,” Bryce mutters, leaning her head on my shoulder.
My friends have been in a state of disbelief since they arrived with takeout in their hands and spied my new coat on the rack. Poppy nearly dropped the bag of burgers and fries all over the carpet while Bryce grabbed my shoulders and shook me twice, asking if I’m truly myself and not a clone.
“You guys better sit down for this one,” I told them before spilling all about Brody showing up to save me like a total hero. We’ve been cuddled on the couch ever since.
Poppy pops a fry into her mouth, her jaw moving against my shoulder as she chews. Our legs are all extended, feet crossed on the soft ottoman. I’m the middle of our sandwich, trapped between the two of them.
“This is the furthest thing from what I expected from the two of you,” Poppy says.
“And just what did you expect?” I ask.
She hums. “I was picturing something out of one of my favourite romance novels. An enemies-to-lovers storyline that had you at each other’s throats until you couldn’t deny your feelings any longer and fucked like crazed animals.”
I choke on a laugh, thankful there wasn’t a mouthful of pop in my mouth. “Your imagination is fascinating.”
“You should have heard her in our teen years. She would have lived in the pages of a book if it weren’t for me forcing her out into the real world,” Bryce says.
Poppy waves her off. “We’re not talking about me right now. We’re talking about Brody and Anna.”
“There’s no Brody and Anna. We’re hardly even friends yet.”
Bryce tries to hide a laugh behind her fist but fails miserably. I shrug her off my shoulder and glare. “Don’t give me that look, Anna. You think Brody Steele would give you his jacket if he didn’t like you? Don’t tell me Stewart ruined every romantic part of you.”
“Brody hardly speaks to the women around town. Other than what the tabloids claim they know, I don’t think he’s dated since college,” Poppy adds.