Trouble (Dogwood Lane #3)(54)



“What’s going on with you two?” he asks. “I can’t figure y’all out. She’s not fawning over you, and you’re not chasing her tail like a dog in heat, but you clearly want each other. I’m perplexed.”

Me too. Me fucking too.

I shove the rest of the slice of pizza into my mouth to give me a couple of extra seconds to contemplate my answer. I get what Avery and I are doing for the most part—nothing. She wants to be the female version of Matt, I think. How do I put that into words for someone else?

Do I say we’re friends? Matt will laugh me out of the kitchen. He knows me too well. He’ll say the only girls I’ve ever been just friends with are Haley and Neely and Claire—and almost not even Claire.

There’s no way I can say I don’t want to fuck her because I’m not sure I can get past the first two words without calling bullshit on myself. I. Want. Her. I want her so much that I’ve not even been with anyone else since I met her. And it’s not because I’m trying to turn over a new leaf. Fuck that. It’s because she’s the only one I’m thinking about, and when Alexis or someone hits me up, I instantly compare them to Avery and opt out. It’s unnerving.

Is there a way to say I want to wrap her around my cock and kiss the ever-loving fuck out of her at the same time? But I can’t because if I do, I run the risk of seeing that look in her eyes again. The one that seems . . . scared. Or maybe even worse, lonely.

“It’s complicated,” I say finally.

Matt’s eyes go wide. “Motherfucking hell, Etling.”

“What?” I tug at my hat in some kind of nervous twitch. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He doesn’t answer. Instead, he sits back in the broken chair’s companion and crosses his arms over his chest. A grin so smug I’d knock it off his face if he were anyone else sits happily on his lips.

“Fuck you,” I say.

“Simmer down, lover boy.”

My jaw sets. “I’m not gonna punch you, but I’m not above kicking you off that chair.”

He just laughs. He laughs and laughs and laughs, and all the while, I get more confused.

“Why do you find this so funny?” I ask.

“Oh, the same way you think me falling off a ladder is funny.”

“You know, I really don’t think it is. I just screw with you.”

His arms drop to the table with a thud. He leans forward and looks me in the eye. “And I really don’t think this is funny either. I think it’s awesome.”

“No one uses ‘awesome’ anymore.” I don’t believe this, but for some reason saying what Avery told me makes me happy.

“Says who?”

“People,” I say.

“Well, people are dumb.”

Looking at the ceiling and rubbing my eyes, I regret inviting him over for pizza.

“I’m not good at this shit, okay?” I say. “I’m in a jam here and am trying to work it out like I think you would. Or fucking Dane would. Hell, even like Trevor if I’m in a pinch. But I don’t know how to do this with her.”

“And why not?”

“Because . . .” Because I don’t know. Maybe because I’d ruin it. Or it’s possible that she’d eventually figure out I’m a screwup and leave. Even more possible is that she’d want to be serious-serious, and I’m not about that life. “I don’t know why. I just know.”

“You sound like a child.”

“Go fuck yourself.”

Matt grins. “Look, the fact that you even realize you don’t know how to do this, whatever this is, with her and want to figure it out, is telling.”

“It tells you to leave me alone? Perfect.”

His smile fades. “Penn, listen to me. This is normal. It’s called feelings, and you can’t die from them. They won’t make your dick stop working, and they won’t ruin your life, no matter what you think.”

“You’re a comedian.”

He doesn’t look fazed. “Want me to break this down for you in the simplest terms?”

“Honestly, no. But you’re going to, anyway. So do it now so you don’t come up with a reason to come over tomorrow and talk me into buying you pizza again so you can get the nerve to say your spiel. Just get it over with.”

He should be slightly offended by that, but he’s not. He might even be proud, and I’m left to ponder where I went wrong in my delivery.

Shit.

“Why are we friends, again?” I ask.

“I ask myself that every day.” He gets comfortable, which is a bad sign. “Now, what’s happening here is that you’re willing to not fuck Avery or pursue her for the ultimate objective of fucking her in exchange for spending time with her.”

I scrunch my face. “You make it sound so gross.”

He laughs. “It’s not gross. It’s not something I ever thought I’d see out of you, but here we are. And I’m kind of happy about it.”

“Well, good for you.”

I pick up my empty soda can and take it to the trash. It’s more for a reprieve from Matt’s dissection than to clean up the kitchen. As I’m watching the metal can hit the liner, I think about what he said, and I can’t dispute it. He’s right. I’m not fucking her just so I can be around her.

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