Crazy (The Gibson Boys #4)(5)

Navie’s features soften. “That’s sweet.”

“I mean, he didn’t really have a choice, being a single dad and all. But he really pulled a one-eighty.” I chuckle at the thought of my brother, the one who absolutely did not give a shit about anything, beaming at Sawyer the first time he rode a bike with no training wheels. “He’s a good dad. Nah, he’s a great fucking dad.”

She grins. “That’s awesome.”

“It’ll be nice to have him back around for a few days. I miss him, you know?”

She turns away and grabs a pop out of the cooler. “I do know, actually. Not that I have a great relationship with my family and I did move here to be away from them, but loneliness is a real thing. Sometimes that leads to really stupid mistakes.” She makes a face. “But my friend Dylan just moved to town, so hopefully that’ll help me stay sane.”

Ding! Ding! Ding!

“Dylan? New boyfriend?” I ask as if I don’t already know the answer.

“Nope. She’s a girl I’ve known my whole life. Probably the only friend I have—friend who’s a girl,” she adds for my benefit. She unscrews her drink. “She’s staying with me for a few days until her rental is vacant.”

“That sounds … fun.” Other adjectives are on the tip of my tongue, but I let them go because I’m not supposed to know her.

“It will be.”

“What brought her here?” I tip my bottle back. I’m not sure if I want to know who stole her pots and pans or not, but I have to try. It’s the only way to know who’s on the right side of life.

Navie watches me take my drink with a heavy dose of curiosity. I’m not sure if she thinks I’m prying, which I am, or if she thinks I’m interested in hearing more about Dylan, which I also am, but she’s clearly warring over how to answer this question.

I’m not surprised. Navie is fiercely private about her life outside of Crave, but she opens up to me more than anyone, I think. Her laughter is usually free, her heart warm and genuine, but she keeps stuff about herself kind of locked up tight. I’m good with that, normally. But if someone is stealing her cookware, that’s an issue. I just want her to know I’m here for her.

She throws her sandwich tray in the trash and faces me with a resolution that makes me a little nervous. “She wanted to get a fresh start anyway …”

“And …”

She closes her eyes.

My stomach twists.

“And I was dating Logan and it—”

“Whoa,” I say, my eyeballs about popping out of my head. “Logan. Logan? Logan, the guy I threw out of here, what, six months ago? For fighting with Machlan? For fighting me? The complete douche?”

She sighs. “That would be him.”

“Navie. Really?”

I think back to the night that Logan challenged Machlan over Hadley. It was ugly. And bloody. And my fist hurt for a week afterward. He’s a good for nothing and can’t even take a punch the right way, let alone know how to treat a woman.

She winces as she looks at me. “Please don’t tell Machlan.”

“Why did you think that was a good idea?” I ask. “I mean, come on, Navie. You’ve seen him in action. You’ve seen him in here, drunk off his ass, acting like a fool. He’s nowhere near good enough for you.”

“Thanks.” She grins sheepishly. “I know. I do. Or I did. Whatever. I just ran into him at Peaches one night when I was picking up takeout, and he apologized for that whole night, and I … I guess I was lonely, and things just … happened. But not anymore.” She shakes her head. “We’re done, and Dylan is here and ready to swoop in and take my mind off it in case I succumb to some kind of asshole withdrawal.”

“You were that beat up about him that your friend had to move here to keep you company?”

“No.” She rolls her eyes. “Just perfect timing. Dylan’s pretty stressed out and wanted to kind of get away from everything. She tells herself I need her to justify it in her own mind, but I’m fine. You know that.”

I raise a brow to silently challenge that idea. Navie may always pretend she’s fine, but I have doubts. She’s strong as hell. She’s smart. She’s capable. But she’s a human being with weaknesses like the rest of us, much to her chagrin.

Her answer is to stick her tongue out at me.

“Logan?” I ask again.

“Shut up, Peck.” She shakes her head again. “Not my best decision, I’ll agree, but it was okay for a while.”

I tip my bottle toward her. “I’m gonna doubt that.”

“My heart is a little tender, okay? I’d appreciate a bit of pity.”

I watch her over the lip of the bottle as I down the rest of my beer. I set it on the bar and knock it with the back of my hand. It sails down the smooth bar top and falls into the trashcan at the end with a satisfying clink!

“I should eat the rest of that sandwich,” Navie says. “Eating out is going to get expensive, and I don’t have that kind of expendable income. Heck, I don’t have a lot of non-expendable income.”

“Why don’t you just cook?”

“Mind ya business, Peck.” She sticks her tongue out again as she pulls a stack of napkins off the shelf behind her.