Chapter Eleven

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Morgan

Iwake up with the scent of Dusty all around me.

I’ve never been like this before—whatever the fuck this is—where I need to feel surrounded by another person’s smell and body heat and crave the feel of their touch against my skin, but that’s exactly how I feel right now with Dusty.

I don’t want to move, don’t want to leave this bed, because the world is a whole lot easier right here. Still, the back of my neck prickles, the hairs rising there. The neediness makes me feel weak, makes me fear what is going to happen when this blows up in my face.

I burrow deeper, feel his rough hairs against my cheek. Dusty’s hold on me tightens, his muscles hard against mine, his skin hot and so damn comforting.

It makes my dick swell too.

“I gotta get up for work,” Dusty says, voice rough and deep, sleepiness clinging to the edge of it like he didn’t get as much rest as me.

“Well, that’s no fun.” I don’t want to, but I make myself pull back. He has shit to do, and this…it’s clingy and needy and not me. Being back here, seeing him again is fucking with the walls I’ve worked so hard on building.

Dusty rolls his thick body away from me and sits on the edge of the bed. The muscles in his back flex, the urge to lean forward and taste every inch of him with my tongue pulling at me.

He stands, adjusts the obvious erection beneath his boxer briefs, and damned if I don’t want to bury my face in his groin too, if I don’t want to lick and smell every bit of his skin, every crevice on him.

“You look tired, Morgan. Stay here and get some rest before you go back to your dad’s. We’ll, um…talk about the other stuff later.”

Guilt makes my skin tighten, like my body doesn’t fit inside it anymore. “I’m sorry for last night. I—”

“Don’t do that. Don’t apologize for kissing me. If I didn’t want your mouth on me, I wouldn’t have allowed it.” Dusty’s voice is firm, sure, and damned if it doesn’t make my dick thicken even more.

“Yes, sir,” I answer playfully.

“I’m serious, Morgan.”

I sober and nod.

“I’m gonna get dressed and head out before I end up not leaving this room and doing something I can’t take back. I need to think first.”

I nod again, struck silent by this confident, sexy version of my best friend.

My gaze doesn’t leave his tight ass while he walks to his dresser, gets clothes, then disappears behind a closed bathroom door. I allow my eyes to shut, just planning on resting them, but his bed smells like him and lulls me to sleep. The next time I wake up, I know Dusty is gone.

There’s a note on the nightstand that says to lock up when I leave, with a key beside it. It’s such a dumb fucking thing to smile about, but I do.

I climb out of his bed, take a piss, and look at myself in the mirror. My hair is messy, scruff a little longer than usual, eyes rested but carrying the weight of being a Swift inside them. I should get into the rental car, drive out of Birchbark, out of the UP, and never come back. Kissing Dusty last night is only going to complicate things further. But instead, I tug on a pair of jeans, grab my cell, and go out the back door to sit on Dusty’s deck.

The sound of squirrels and other critters scurrying along the forest floor fills my ears as I take in this little utopia Dusty has built for himself. It’s fucking perfect for him, so goddamned beautiful that without the other shit, without my life as a Swift hanging over me, I can see why someone would want to be here.

I look at the time. It’s ten, so that means it’s seven in California and I should be able to catch Rob before he goes to work. Even though he told me yesterday he’s going to be busy, I have to call. It’s not a conscious decision I remember making or even thinking about, but I know what I need to do.

“Hey. I have about five minutes,” is the first thing Rob says to me. If Dusty were here, it would piss him off, but I can’t be mad at Rob for being who he is, for acting the way I’ve allowed him—and needed him—to act.

“I kissed my best friend last night,” I tell him, then rub a hand over my face. It sounds so juvenile when I say it that way.

“The Dustin guy?”

“Dusty,” I correct.

“That’s not a nickname?” Rob says on a chuckle.

“No. It’s his name. Fuck, Rob.”

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to insult your friend. I didn’t know it was that big of a deal. Did you at least have fun with him last night?”

There’s nothing wrong with his question. Not really. It’s something I might have asked him if he’d hooked up with someone before I left, and something he’s maybe asked me before. Again, there is nothing wrong with having an open relationship, and the things I’m struggling with when it comes to Rob now aren’t about that. They’re about him. Dusty is right. He should have asked how I am. And while I don’t know what’s going to happen with Dusty or what I even want, I can’t have him while I’m with Rob. It feels wrong deep inside me.

“Yeah. I had fun,” I finally reply. “Do you care about me?”

“What? Why are you asking such a ridiculous question? Of course I do,” he snaps. He doesn’t have patience for things that are too emotional. That’s what I thought I wanted, but now it makes my skin crawl. “What’s going on, Morgan? I don’t have much time.”

I sigh, stand, and walk to the edge of the deck, looking out at the trees. “I can’t be with you anymore. It’s nothing you did. It’s just… I’m all fucked up, Rob. I have been for a long time. But I don’t think I need the same things I did before, and I can’t change the rules on you now.”

“Jesus, what the hell is happening to you over there?” he asks, and I groan because I don’t fucking know. The truth is, my head has always been a mess, it just hits differently now.

“I don’t know, man. I feel like I’m losing my mind.”

“You should come home is what you should do.”

He’s right. I know that, but after last night…I can’t. And I can’t leave East yet either. I want to make sure he knows that even when I’m back in California, he’ll always have me. Make sure he knows I love him. “I can’t. Not yet.”

There’s a short pause and then, “This was probably coming anyway. I think we both know that.”

Even though he can’t see me, I nod. I did know. “My stuff is fine there until I get back?”

“Of course, Morgan. I’m not a total asshole. I’ll still be around if you want to fuck sometimes when you get home.”

I chuckle. “I don’t doubt you will be.”

“I gotta go. Take care of yourself, okay?”

I wait for it to hurt, wait for more emotion from either of us, but it doesn’t come. It’s just a reminder that this is the right choice, and it has nothing to do with Dusty. “You too.”

Rob ends the call first. I stand there, breathing in the fresh air for a moment, then go back inside Dusty’s place. Once I finish getting dressed, I lock up and leave. The last thing I want is to go back to Dad’s, but I do because what the fuck else am I going to do?

When I pull up and see Rhett’s car, my body automatically stiffens. I’m not surprised, and hell, maybe a part of me was itching for an argument with him, but I’m also exhausted by it all already.

Rhett gets out when I pull up. I can’t help but roll my eyes at him. “Were you literally sitting in your car waiting for me? Don’t you have to be at work?”

“Why are you here?” Rhett crosses his arms and leans against the car. He’s wearing black slacks and a white button-up shirt.

“You asked me to come, and I did. Is anything ever enough for you? I swear you’re just like him.”

“And you’re not? You get angry at him for not being around, yet the first chance you got, you left.”

“I was a fucking adult when I left! I was allowed. And we were kids, Rhett. Jesus, why can’t you see how much he’s hurt us? Why do you need his approval so damn much? What hold does he have on you? Do you know that Easton told me yesterday he doesn’t think Dad loves him? That he doesn’t think Dad has ever loved him? He’s fucking broken, just like the rest of us, because of that man.” I point toward the house and see my brother flinch.

“Easton told you that?” His voice is soft, not holding the anger it had a moment ago.

Fuck. East hasn’t said that to Rhett. He hasn’t told Rhett how he feels. Sure, our oldest brother could have drawn his own conclusions. We all can about Dad, but Easton said it to me and not him.

“Because he knows I feel the same.” I don’t know why I automatically say something to try and lessen the sting for Rhett. He doesn’t deserve it, not really.

“Of course you’re back for five minutes and you and Easton are close.”

“Part of the reason you wanted me back here is to help East with whatever he’s going through, and now you’re pissed at me about it?” I throw my hands up in the air. No matter what I do, I can never win with him, just like I can never win with Dad. “Do you ever think that maybe East doesn’t share with you because he knows you’ll never give a shit about anyone else the way you do Dad?”

Rhett whips his head in my direction, fire blazing in the deep brown eyes that are so much like my own. “There is nothing I wouldn’t do for everyone in this family! Nothing!” he shouts. “I play by the rules, and I’ve done what’s expected of me. I’ve made sacrifices you will never understand, but it’s not enough. It never is. You swing back in town, claiming to want to do the right thing. Do you know that I sat here with Dad last night and all he did was talk about you? And Easton is telling you shit he doesn’t tell me, and Dusty’s all wrapped up in you again, even though it’s going to do nothing but hurt him again.”

My thoughts stumble, words a jumbled mess in my head. Rhett has never said something like that to me, and I’m not sure what to make of it. “East would talk to you if he felt like you were on his side. You’ve spent your whole life trying to be Dad, and he’s the one who has caused us the most pain. Of course that makes it harder to talk to you. And Dad…he talks about you to me, and about me to you, when really, the most important person to him is always himself. I think he likes feeling he has control over us, pitting us against each other.”

Rhett rolls his eyes. “He’s our father. He’s not perfect. God knows none of us are, but he’s not a monster.”

“Then why has he spent the whole time I was here pretending he doesn’t give a fuck about me, only to then talk your ear off about me? Why does he take every moment he can to remind me I’m not as good as you or not doing what you would do? And when is he ever saying anything about East that’s not about how much of a disappointment he is?”

Rhett shoves off the car and starts pacing in front of it. “He’s our dad,” he says again. “He loves us. We’re so fucking lucky. Look around you, Morgan.”

“Money isn’t everything.”

“I know that,” he snaps. “I’ve gotta go. Dad wasn’t feeling too well last night. He had a bad headache, so keep a close eye on him today.”

He goes to the door and pulls it open before I say, “I’m not going to hurt Dusty.” Being back here has reminded me what he is to me, who he is to me. Hurting him feels like cutting out my own heart.

“So you’re going to stay?” Rhett asks.

My mouth opens, but nothing comes out. He knows I can’t stay, I won’t stay, but things will be different this time. I’m not going to walk away from him like I did before. Whatever happens between us, we’ll talk about it and figure out the best way to move forward.

“That’s what I thought.” Rhett gets into his car and peels away, kicking up rocks and dust behind him.