Fade Into You (Shaken Dirty #3)(69)

“Gouda is not health food,” she retorted as she grabbed a bottle of freshly squeezed orange juice for herself.

“It’s healthier than chocolate cake or heroin.”

“Yeah, well, so is just about everything. That doesn’t make it health food.” She grabbed a slice of red pepper and bit into it with a resounding crunch. “Besides, you need the nutrients. You’re pale and skinny.”

“Wow, you really know how to make a man feel good about himself,” he deadpanned.

“You know me. I’m all about the cheap flattery.” She ruffled his hair as she dropped into the seat across from him.

He reached for a handful of grapes under her watchful eye, because he knew it would make her happy. But as she continued to stare at him long after he’d eaten the grapes and a couple of pieces of cheese, he could feel himself becoming defensive. Uncomfortable.

“What?” he finally demanded, when he could take her scrutiny no more. “What’s the problem?”

“No problem. It’s just…you look happy. It’s kind of weird. I mean, good weird, but still weird.”

“Seriously? You used to get freaked out because you thought I was miserable and now you’re freaked out because you think I’m happy?”

“I know.” She popped a grape into her own mouth. “It makes no sense. And I’m thrilled you’re happy. It’s just a little weird.”

“I just got laid,” he told her bluntly. “Why wouldn’t I be happy?”

She leveled a mock glare at him. “Some things I don’t need to know.”

“Really? Because you’re certainly acting like you need to know everything.”

She stuck her tongue out at him, just as the buzzer on the oven went off. “Calling me a wannabe know-it-all isn’t a smart move when I’ve just baked your favorite brownies.”

“That’s what I’ve been smelling!” He crossed the kitchen to peer over her shoulder into the oven. “You made the ones with the chocolate chunks and caramel in them?”

“I did.” She hip-checked him to get him to back up. “But they aren’t for you. They’re for some other guy who is actually nice to me.”

“I am nice to you.” He waited for her to put the hot pan down on the stove before he grabbed her and waltzed her around the kitchen. “You’re just pissed because you want to pump me for information and I’m not playing.”

She sniffed in mock annoyance. “Please. Like Ryder doesn’t tell me everything. I just wanted your perspective.”

He whirled her around, then dipped her with a big flourish, right in front of the refrigerator. She laughed, holding on tight.

“I’ve missed you,” she whispered as he carefully brought them back up to standing.

There was a little too much emotion running through those three words for him to be comfortable, so he eased back, shot her a cocky grin. “Don’t get sappy. I didn’t come back from the dead. I was just in rehab, and you visited me there at least once a week.”

“I didn’t mean that. I just…” She made a helpless little gesture that he thought was supposed to encompass their impromptu dance around the kitchen. “I’ve really missed you. It’s good to have you back.” There were tears in her eyes as she said it.

Emotion twisted sickly in his stomach, and he tried to tamp it down like he always did. Tried to ignore it, just like he tried to ignore the guilt that burned right under his skin. It didn’t work, though, especially not when he saw tears blooming in Jamison’s eyes.

“Fuck,” he muttered, even as he pulled her back in for a hug. “I’m right here, you know. I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere this time.”

She clung to him like a limpet, the little sister he’d never had. “Promise?”

“I promise.” The words had a peculiar taste, felt heavy on his tongue. It was the second promise he’d made today, the second promise he had every intention of keeping. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’m so sorry for everything I put you guys through.”

She pulled away, and the look on her face was as fierce as he had ever seen it. “You don’t need to apologize to me, Wyatt Jennings. You don’t need to apologize to any of us—”

“Yeah, I do—”

“No, you don’t. I don’t give a shit what that program says. We’re family. We love you just the way you are, f*cked up addiction and everything. You don’t have to say you’re sorry because you were hurting and trying to find a way to deal with that hurt. All you have to do is promise me that if the pain gets bad again you’ll come to me. Or Ryder. Or Jared or Quinn or this pretty little girl you’re dating. I don’t care which of us you talk to,” she told him as she pulled him in for another hug. “I only care that you talk to one of us.”

This whole conversation was getting more uncomfortable by the second, and he couldn’t take it. Couldn’t take the naked affection in her eyes any more than he could take the plea she was making.

“I’m okay, Jamison,” he said as he eased away. “Poppy confronted me this morning, forced a lot of stuff out of me. Then she got in my face about the past and—I’m not going to lie. It was rough. And I’m not fixed. I’m not…good. I don’t know if I’ll ever be good. But right now, I’m solid. And that feels like enough.”