Raw Deal (Larson Brothers #1)(76)
“Hey.” But he sounded distant, detached. In fact, the disinterest in his voice brought her hand to her mouth. “Everything okay?”
“Um, yeah.” No. I miss you. Come back. “Is everything okay with you?”
There was a pause before his answer. “It’s all right. I’m in New York for press and photo shoots and stuff, and I hate that shit. My least favorite part.”
“When do you get to go home?”
“I’m at the airport now, but I don’t get to be home for long.” In the background, she could hear another conversation going on nearby, and laughter. Suddenly, her heart ached to be next to him, to be by his side through all of this.
“Oh, well, that’s good. That should make you feel better. Did you have a press conference?”
“Yeah. But don’t watch it, Savannah.”
Her heart squeezed when he said that. She wasn’t sure if it was hearing him say her name again or the insinuation that something bad had happened. “Why?” she choked out.
“It wasn’t anything you need to see. You were absolutely right to stay away. This is . . . f*cking ugly, and it’s only gonna get worse.”
Was that why he sounded like he’d rather not be talking to her? Did he want to protect her by keeping her at arm’s length? She tried to tell herself that, because the alternative was simply too heartbreaking. “Okay,” she said, closing her eyes. “Will you, um, go ahead and pass Rowan’s number on to Zane, if he still wants it? She’d like to talk to him again too.”
“Sure, yeah. Text it to me. I’ll make sure he gets it.”
“Thanks.” She already could hear the beginning notes of goodbye in the conversation. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. Tell him! “I . . .”
He waited.
“I’m wishing you all the best. In the fight. And—”
“Thanks. We’re about to board, so they’ll be making me turn everything off.”
“Okay.”
“Give Rowan my best.”
“I will.”
“All right. Gotta go.” And he hung up.
Oh my God. Oh my God. She could do nothing but stare at her phone in disbelief. It had sounded like a completely different person than the one she’d gotten to know. But he’d warned her, hadn’t he? Then you haven’t gotten to know me at all. You only see the side you want to see, he’d said, a look in his eyes that was still capable of sending chills down her spine.
Except that she hadn’t believed him then. She didn’t believe him now. He only showed the side he wanted people to see when he wanted them to see it, to push them away, scare them off, or maybe to protect them. A coping mechanism, no doubt formulated by a scared kid who was trying to protect his younger brothers from the abundant horrors of their life, cultivated to perfection over the years. Serving him well now in his chosen profession.
Rowan peeked her head into the room as Savannah still stared blindly at her phone. “Done already?”
“Oh yeah, we’re done,” she replied glumly, about to toss it aside before she remembered she was supposed to text him Rowan’s number. She went ahead and did that. “That went about as well as I expected. But way worse than I hoped.”
“Is he mad? Is that fragile ego bruised?”
“I don’t think it has anything to do with that. He sounds . . . cold. But he does have your number to give to Zane.”
Rowan picked up their glasses from the coffee table to get refills on their tea. “As if he’ll ever use it.”
Except that he did. Savannah got the gleeful call from Rowan a few days later as she was sitting on her balcony late in the afternoon trying to read a book and get her mind off everything. It was working out about as well as she’d figured it would, which wasn’t saying much.
“Can you believe it? We must have talked for an hour,” Rowan said happily.
Savannah’s heart warmed. Mike had still been willing to facilitate that connection. For a couple of days, she’d had the terrible thought that the opportunity might have passed, and then she would have that weighing on her conscience too. “Awesome. Are you going to see him?”
“Nah, nothing like that. It’s just a friendly thing. But how cool is it that I can call Zane Larson my friend? I can call Zane freaking Larson. I mean, oh my God!”
“I’m happy for you.”
“You know, he talked a lot about Mike.”
“Do I want to know?”
“Maybe. He said he talked to him today for the first time in a while and that he didn’t think his head was right. That’s not a good thing for those guys, Savvy. He needs all his focus.”
“What do you want me to do about it? I tried to talk to him.”
“You didn’t try very long.”
“He cut me off!”
“Have you watched the press conference?”
“No,” Savannah explained with exaggerated patience, “because he told me not to.”
“Jesus Christ, woman, you need to learn when to listen to the man and when to not. I’m sure it’s all over YouTube. Zane said he saw it, and we might want to check it out. I don’t know. I’m only the messenger.”
Truth was, Savannah didn’t want to subject herself to the pain of seeing him, on a screen or otherwise.