Almost Just Friends (Wildstone #4)(72)

“You’re lying,” CJ said.

More like omitting, but Gavin hadn’t asked Axel if he could mention him, and in NA, loyalty was everything. And also, something in the way CJ was looking at him now was really pissing him off. And admittedly, he did not do his best thinking when he was pissed off. “He is just a friend. But that’s not the real problem, is it, Ceej. You think I’m still sowing some wild oats.”

“Not any of my business.”

“It sure as hell is. You really think after the time we’ve spent together since I got back, that I’d do such a thing?”

“You tell me.”

Gavin actually staggered a step back, as if he’d been punched in the face. Sure as hell felt like he had been, and he shook his head, going from pissed to . . . hurt. “I haven’t done anything wrong here.”

“But you can see how I got there, right?”

“I’ve never cheated on you, CJ. I was an asshole, yeah. But not a cheating asshole.” And damn, he was sick of this, of his bad decisions jumping him. Pummeling him. “Look, we both know I have a past. But it’s just that, a past. And that the way I left you sucked. But haven’t you ever done anything you regret, or are you just perfect, then?”

CJ didn’t bother to answer. He just made a disgusted sound and got into his car.

“Are you serious?”

CJ met his gaze. “I realize running off is your MO, but thought I’d beat you to it this time.”

When he was gone, Gavin stood there for a beat in shock. But he shouldn’t have been shocked at all. He was pretty sure he was all too easy to walk away from.

He meant to go home. That would’ve been the smart thing. Something he apparently wasn’t, because he drove to CJ’s. “You’re an idiot,” he told himself as he got out and knocked.

No answer. Shock. He tried the door. Unlocked. Fair game then, and he pushed it open and stepped inside.

CJ appeared in the living room, gun in hand. “Jesus,” he breathed, then lowered his gun hand, using his other to rub his eyes. “It’s like you want me to kill you.”

Gavin slammed the door behind him. “Okay, yeah, so I used to run.” He stalked toward CJ, who was still armed and clearly still pissed off as well. Gavin didn’t care. He was over this, over paying for his sins and not getting any credit for changing. “But maybe I grew up.”

“Maybe?”

“Yeah,” Gavin said. “And maybe I also know I’ve got a lot to make up for, but I didn’t expect you of all people to not believe in me. Because in spite of how we ended, I’ve never broken my word to you.”

“Maybe there’s a first time for everything.”

This stopped Gavin in his tracks. CJ didn’t believe in him. But hell, he’d never believed in himself all that much, so why was he so surprised that CJ didn’t? Sick, he pulled off the leather bracelet, tossed it onto the coffee table, and left.

And CJ let him.

ON SATURDAY AFTERNOON, Cam found himself hiking up to Rainbow Peak, a popular hiking area three hundred feet above the lake on the bluffs. He was with his dad, Winnie, Gavin, and Piper, and they weren’t there for the spectacular views.

His heart beat heavy in his chest as they bypassed the trailhead for a narrow trail that Emmitt and Piper said only a very few locals knew existed. It led to an overhang where one could stand above the water and get a view of what felt like the entire world. Directly below was the gorgeous blue lake. Beyond that, a blanket of lush green hills holding ranches and wineries for as far as the eye could see.

Cam supposed it was as good a day for a funeral as it could be.

Winnie was wearing the sundress she said was the last thing Rowan had seen her in. But because it was winter, she was also wearing tights, boots, and a jacket—none of it black. She’d forbidden any of them from wearing black, saying Rowan would’ve hated that.

Emmitt wore shorts and a T-shirt that he’d worn the last time he and Rowan had gone fishing. No jacket.

Piper was in jeans and a sweatshirt that read RIDE THE RAINBOW. Apparently, Rowan had given it to Gavin, who’d shrunk it, and so it’d been passed down to Piper.

Cam, not having had any sort of specific clothing that he associated with Rowan, was in his usual cargoes and T-shirt, but he wore a windbreaker against the gusts and dark lenses against the bright winter sky.

And also to shield his own emotions.

He’d been drunk through Rowan’s first funeral. It had felt best to be numb at the time. He hadn’t missed the numb until this very moment. His heart ached and felt too heavy for his chest, and he tensed when a hand landed on his shoulder.

His dad’s.

He forced himself to relax, wishing he’d gone with being drunk for this service as well. His dad was carrying a small canister that he’d informed the shocked gathering only a few moments before held some of Rowan’s ashes.

“This was Rowan’s favorite secret spot,” Emmitt said. “He’d come out here, sometimes to climb down and then back up just for fun. Sometimes to just sit and breathe. He liked to do that.” Emmitt’s voice got a little choked up. “He got that from me. I taught him to slow down and smell the flowers. I know it’s not a popular opinion, that I should’ve taught him ambition and forced him to go to college, but those things made me miserable at his age. And as it turns out, life’s too fucking short.” He sucked in a breath. “So, Rowan, I hope you’re in the clouds climbing mountains and smelling the flowers. I’ll miss you, son.” He swiped at the tears on his cheeks and nodded. He was done. He handed the canister to Winnie.