Almost Just Friends (Wildstone #4)(20)

In turn, Gavin had reminded her that she’d spent the years between age three and eighteen both causing and raising holy hell on the world.

That was when she had “accidentally” thrown mud at him.

Naturally, a mud fight had ensued, and Piper, covered in mud and with steam coming out of her ears, had yelled at them to help or, better yet, get the hell out.

That was when Gavin had first realized that he wasn’t the only one standing on the very edge of a cliff looking down . . .

Restless now, he moved around the house. He didn’t need lights to make his way through the only home he remembered.

Except that wasn’t quite true.

He’d been ten when he, Piper, and Winnie had been sent home from the Democratic Republic of the Congo in the middle of that storm from hell, back to Wildstone to live with their grandparents. Whenever he’d been asked, he’d told people he couldn’t remember much before that.

But he could. He could, and did, and even now, alone in the dark with the nightmare of that time ringing in his head, playing like a movie he couldn’t pause, he could feel the shudder of horror and grief go through him.

“Survivor’s guilt,” a therapist had told him and Piper a long time ago.

No shit . . .

Hearing a sound in the den, he headed that way, not all that surprised to find Winnie curled up in the window seat in the living room, head bent, reading something on her phone.

“Hey,” he said.

Winnie jerked and her phone went flying. “Hey yourself, creeper. You nearly scared the Bean right out of me.”

He moved close and sat with her, looking out into the night and seeing nothing, because there were no city lights out here, no billboards or traffic. Nothing. “The Bean’s okay.” He slid her a crooked grin. “Its mama, though . . .”

Winnie rolled her eyes.

Gavin bent and scooped up her phone for her, which had a YouTube video playing on how to become a handyman. He glanced at her in surprise. “What are you doing?”

“What does it look like?” She snatched the phone from his fingers.

“It looks like you’re trying to learn how to be useful.”

“And?”

“And . . . that seems unlike you.”

“Shows how much you know. I want to help. Piper’s working so hard, and she’s trying to fix this place up all on her own. That’s not fair.”

“Never bothered you before.”

“Yeah, well, I was a child.” She sighed. “And now I’m having a child. Need to get my shit together. I’m glad you decided to come home to do the same, but you were late. You were supposed to beat me here and soften her up for me.”

He shrugged. “I nearly decided against coming home at all.”

“Glad you didn’t.” She paused. “And just out of curiosity, what does seem like me?”

Even he recognized a trick question, but this was Winnie. They didn’t pull their punches with each other. “You’re covert. Sneaky. Like”—he raised a brow—“pretending to be in college this whole past semester when you’re really hostessing at Chili’s.”

She grimaced.

“Or getting pregnant and then hiding it.”

“I never should have told you. It was a weak moment, I’d just peed on a stick and freaked.”

“Understandable. But it’s a long time to be keeping these secrets from Piper. It’s your superpower.”

She flipped him off.

“Oh, don’t worry,” he said. “I’ve got the same superpower.”

“Yeah, you do.” Winnie lost her animosity and reached for his hand. “Only your secret shouldn’t be a secret, Gav. It’s not good for your recovery.”

“Yeah.” Feeling claustrophobic, he rose, hating the feeling that he was trying to climb out of his own skin. “But I’m not who you should be worried about.”

“Then who?”

“Your sister, when she finds out how little you trust her not to freak out.”

“You mean we,” Winnie said. “How little we trust her not to freak out.”

But it wasn’t about trust for Gavin. Not with Piper. It was about how much of her life she’d already given up for him and Winnie. All she’d ever wanted was for them to turn out okay. Instead, she had a baby sister having a baby and a brother with an addiction problem.

And she didn’t know about either.

“So you’re going to tell her?” he asked. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Anytime soon? Cuz he’s been gone a little over three months now.”

Winnie didn’t respond to this.

On the one hand, he got why she wouldn’t readily open up to their older sister. Piper had liked Rowan okay. She’d thought him sweet and affable, and good for his dad. But she’d also thought he’d been lazy and trouble, and not a great influence on Winnie, and as usual, she was right on the money there. Rowan had been all those things as well. But Gavin liked to think that in the end, he’d have changed for Winnie.

But now they’d never know.

He ended up in the middle of the kitchen, hands fisted at his sides, eyes tightly closed as he breathed through a desperate need.

For a pill.