Diary of a Bad Boy(67)

What I wouldn’t give to be the man she gives those hugs to, the man she looks up to with that smile, or the man who protects her from the rest of the world.

“No matter how much you try to push me away, it doesn’t change how I feel about you . . . I’ve tried to act like you don’t matter to me, that I can move past this crazy affection I have for you, but it’s impossible.” But how do I become the man who deserves her? How do I become her man?

And then I hear Foster’s thoughts, which combine to further cement these thoughts.

A man takes his life into his hands and makes the most of it.

Foster was right, I’m not that man—yet—but maybe it’s time I find out how to start acting like him.





Chapter Fifteen





Dear Jasper,

Jasper is the name of a pig I talked to the other day as I fed him what looked like sewer slop. He had kind eyes, so I thought I’d try the name out here. Not sure if it works, just reminds me of the old hog.

I honestly don’t know what to say right now. If my therapist was here, she’d ask me annoying questions like how do you feel? What’s on your mind? Any hurdles you’ve had to face lately?

Well . . . since she’s not here—not that I would want to talk to her—but since she’s across the country, probably diddling around on her doodle pad, I’ll write the answers here.

How do you feel? Like absolute piss.

What’s on my mind? Sutton. Day in and day out it’s been Sutton.

Any hurdles you’ve had to face lately? Only a few, you know, nicotine cravings, the need for one shot of whiskey. Release, sweet fucking release.

And then there’s the biggest hurdle of them all . . . emotions. I’m dealing with a bunch of emotions I’ve never felt before. Things like . . . jealousy, emptiness, yearning.

I can see myself letting my walls down and lending out my hand to Sutton. I can feel my guard crumbling and needing something other than alcohol to console me.

I want to hold Sutton’s hand.

I want to kiss Sutton whenever I damn well please.

I want to tell her shit, like my fears and my triumphs.

I want to share meals with her. She gets my spuds, I take her Brussels sprouts. Shit like that.

I want her to wear my shirt at night, and I want to wake up with my arm around her in the morning.

Jesus Christ . . . I think I want a relationship.

Roark





SUTTON





“How do you feel about everything?” Dad asks, taking a seat next to me by the fire.

Showered and in comfortable loungewear, I lean back in my camp chair and stare at the crackling flames. It was a long day, prepping all the cabins, organizing registration, making sure the gift bags were all correct with the right sizes. But we did it, and we’re more than ready for the festivities to start tomorrow. My job is done, and now I get to sit back and let the rest of the staff take over.

I close my blanket over my shoulders. “I feel really good. I don’t think we could be more prepared.”

“I couldn’t agree more.” My dad gives my leg a pat and looks over at me, the creases near his eyes crinkled with a smile. “I’m proud of you, Sutton Grace. You’ve become a very beautiful and hard-working woman.”

“Thanks, Dad,” I say awkwardly, not really sure how to react. “I’m glad Whitney gave me the opportunity to take over. Is she going to come down here?”

He nods and leans back in his chair, crossing his leg over his knee. “She’s at a hotel, due to arrive tomorrow morning before the campers.”

“Oh good. It would be weird if she didn’t show up.” I wince. “Do you think she’s going to criticize my work?”

He shakes his head. “She’s not that kind of boss, but she will run over everything, double-checking to make sure we covered all our bases. I wouldn’t expect anything less.”

“Me neither.” I look toward the clear sky, stars sparkling brighter than I’ve ever seen. “Are you going to be sad when you retire next year?”

“I’ll miss the game and the people, but I think it’s time. I’ve been suiting up for almost two decades now. I think it’s time this old man takes a break.”

“Think you’re going to coach the local high school team?” I smile at him. “You know they’re just waiting for you to offer your help.”

He lifts his hat and then runs his hand through his hair. He’s the only one yet to take a shower, offering the chance to everyone else first. “I think I’ll take my first year off and then I’ll probably trickle in and help. I don’t think I can stay away from the sport for that long.” He gives me a nudge. “Which reminds me, when are you going to give me grandkids? I’m retiring; I’m ready to be a grandpa now.” He chuckles softly.

“Uh, not for a while. Kind of need to have a guy in my life first, plus I want to establish my career. You’re going to be waiting a while. Sorry.”

He snaps his fingers in disappointment. “Are there any prospects out there?”

Only one who hides behind a shield of armor so impenetrable that I’m certain I’ll become an old woman before I can get past it.

I shrug, not really wanting to talk about Roark with my dad, or relationships for that matter. It’s too sensitive a topic, especially since the man I truly want is about fifty feet away in the house.