Unfinished Ex (Calloway Brothers, #2)(33)

“It wasn’t about me, you idiot. It was about my students.”

“Still. Ouch.”

“I thought he was great,” Maddie says, patting my shoulder before going off to play with Gigi and the dogs.

The front door opens. Cooper comes in. “Don’t you knock?” Tag says. “It’s not just me here anymore.”

“It’s okay,” Maddie says. “He’s family.”

“What if we were, you know”—he glances at Gigi—“indisposed?”

Cooper walks over to Gigi and covers her ears. “You mean fucking? Dude, you have a kid now. I highly doubt you’re bumping uglies in the middle of your kitchen.”

Maddie smirks. “How do you know what we do when she’s away at school and we sneak home for lunch?”

“Well, damn.” Cooper offers Tag a high-five, which he turns down. “I stand corrected. I’ll knock from now on.”

“You just missed this clown on TV,” Tag says.

“I’m sure you DVR’d it. I’ll watch it later. Right now, I want to go hike the trails. You up for it?”

Tag looks at Maddie.

“Oh, sorry.” Coop turns to Maddie. “Maddie, can Tag come out and play?”

Tag punches our little brother in the arm, then he hops off the couch. “Give me a minute to change.”

I snap my fingers. “Heisman, want to go for a walk?”

He trots over to the door and waits.

Twenty minutes later, we’re entering one of Calloway Creek’s many hiking trails that starts behind the park on McQuaid Circle. Heisman runs ahead, greeting every person he encounters. My brothers and I often hike these trails when Cooper comes to town.

We hike for about five miles, past Joe Henson’s one-room cabin in the middle of nowhere.

“That old bastard still lives there?” Cooper asks.

“Probably till the day he dies,” Tag says.

“How do you know he hasn’t?”

I glance back at the old cabin. “Should we check it out?”

“He’s still alive,” Tag says. “Maddie’s friend Ava delivers coffee beans to him every week.”

“Ava Criss delivers? Since when?” Cooper asks.

“What don’t you get about the man being a recluse? I don’t even know what the hell he did before online grocery delivery became a thing.”

I find a good throwing stick and toss it ahead for Heisman. “How long will you be hanging around?” I ask Coop.

“Not long. Been here for too long as it is. Boredom has set in.”

“So you don’t need a place to crash?”

“I have a place to crash.”

“Your van cannot be comfortable for long periods of time. Isn’t that why you stayed at Tag’s for a month?”

“No, man. I stayed with him during renovations to make the van even more livable. You should see it now.”

I shake my head. “I don’t get how you can live in something so small. It’s like being in a box.

Don’t you get claustrophobic?”

He runs ahead and balances on the fallen tree that hangs out over the creek. He stands in the middle and raises his arms to the heavens. “You call this being claustrophobic?” Then he loses his footing and disappears into the creek fifteen feet below.

“Shit,” Tag says, looking as horrified as I feel.

We quickly slide down the bank and scan the creek. It’s deep here, maybe ten feet, and murky.

I’m ripping off my shirt to dive in when Cooper surfaces laughing.

Tag and I sit on a large rock and stare at each other. I know exactly what we were each thinking for those ten seconds. We were thinking it was Chaz all over again. We’re both breathing heavily, waiting for our blood pressure to come down.

“Goddamn daredevil motherfucker!” Tag shouts.

Cooper swims to the edge, pulls himself out, and strips down to wring out his clothes.

I glance around. “You’re just going to do that right here?”

“Dude, I shit in the woods on a regular basis. This is nothing.”

Two women runners approach, conspicuously slowing before they pass.

“Ladies.” Cooper salutes in all his nakedness.

They both giggle as they jog away.

I stand and roll my eyes. “You’re such a fucking bonehead.”

Tag motions to the fallen tree. “And you need to quit doing shit like that.”

“We all did shit like that when we were kids, Tag.”

“That was before. We didn’t know any better.”

“I’m not stupid. I’m not going to get myself killed.”

I bend at the waist and belt out an incredulous laugh. “Coop, you jump off buildings and bridges and out of planes. I’d say the chances of you getting yourself killed are about as good as they get.”

He pulls on his shorts. “I’m always safe about it.”

“Like you and Chaz were safe on that mountain?” I regret the words the instant they leave my mouth.

He throws his shirt down and pins me to the nearest tree. “Don’t fucking talk to me about him.

You think I don’t go over that day in my head every goddamn day? You think I don’t retrace our steps looking for what the hell I could have done to prevent it? You think he doesn’t haunt my motherfucking dreams every night?”