Page 27 of The Other Side of Wild

Without another word, he pushes off the chair and walks into the house without sparing me a second glance. The hot Florida sun seems to be twenty times hotter than it was when I first came out here. I feel the tears building behind my eyes, but I refuse to let them fall. I tip my head back and let the brutal sun dry them where they are. The desire to run has amplified tenfold.

I look back at the house where Greyson and his brother are having an animated discussion. I lose the fight to my intrusive thoughts as I take advantage of the moment and quietly walk through the side gate.

Once I’m through it, I take off running in the direction of the main street. Making it to a gas station, I pull out my phone and order a ride. My bag is still at their house, and I feel awful for not saying bye or thank you. But there’s something about being somewhere where I know I’m not wanted that makes me want to flee.

Sure, I’ve come to terms with my feelings being more than friendly. I know his are, too. We just crossed that line, and now I’m running. More than likely ruining everything before it even has the chance to begin.They’ll realize you aren’t worth the headache; then you’ll be all alone.UGH! Why am I like this?

I’ve been fighting for love and acceptance for so long I don’t want to fight anymore. I don’t want to be what gets between Greyson and his family; he was made to feel like he had to choose between them and Kara. I won’t be that way. Better to nip this in the bud now than to get too deep and have it destroy us both. But damn, it freaking sucks.

Abby is bouncing on the balls of her feet when I walk in the door. “What are you doing?” I sigh.

“I need the deets, duh. What happened? Where’d you go? You’ve been gone for like nine hours.” Has it been that long? I peer down at my watch and see that it’s 5:43 PM. Dang, the day flew by.

“Can I shower and change first?” Her eyes narrow as she realizes I’m not matching her enthusiasm.

I need a minute to regroup. Harley is lying on my bed under the covers, with her head on the pillow like the spoiled posh princess she is. “Hey, noodle girl. How was your day?” I walk over to nuzzle her neck and rub the spot she loves right behind her ears before heading to the bathroom. My phone lights up as soon as I get back to my room; grabbing it, I sigh when I see who it is.

Greyson: Hey. Where’d you go? My mom wants you to try her cheesecake.

Greyson: Kitten, did you leave? Did something happen?

Greyson: Hannah, where the heck are you? Are you okay?

Greyson: Screw it, I’m coming over.

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Dang it, that last one was sent a few minutes ago. Maybe if I text him back, he’ll stay away.

Hannah: I’m fine; I just got overwhelmed. I’m sorry, Grey, but I think we need to keep our relationship professional.

Greyson: Professional? What the heck happened between the lighthouse and now to make you say that?

Hannah: Please.

Greyson: No, start talking.

Hannah: Thank you for today. Tell your parents thank you, too. I’ll see you at the rink.

Greyson: Absolutely not. Why did you leave?

Greyson: Hannah, so help me, God. I will show up there. Did I do something wrong?

My eyes start leaking, falling into my bed. I push my face into my pillow and let it all out. He didn’t do anything wrong, and the absolute last thing I want him to think is that he did.

Hannah: No, you didn’t. I just can’t do it. There’s too much riding on this carnival. I can’t give you the time and effort you deserve. Please, Grey.

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Turningmy phone off, I throw it to the side. Letting the words of Tate wash over me.“I don’t care to know you.” “I don’t think you’regood enoughfor him.”In all honesty, I’m probably not. And I understand why he’s protective of his brother. I'd be the same way with Eli if some crazy woman tried to do what his ex did. That doesn’t mean it hurts any less to hear.

A knock on the door pulls my attention, and I hold my breath, hoping he really didn’t show up here. Abby sticks her head in as she takes a look at me. Her shoulders droop, and she holds up a finger, indicating that she’ll be right back. My eyeballs might as well be sprinklers at this point.

“Oh, honey... What happened?” Her concern is clear as day as she hands me a shot glass and then sits on the end of my bed. Clinking our glasses together, we throw them back, grimacing as the tequila burns on the way down. This time, I don’t think I mind it, though.

“We were having such a good day, and I had to go and ruin it.” I feel like I’ve got a ball of snot sitting in my stomach. I freaking hate crying. Probably because my dad used to tell me crying was for the weak, and he couldn’t love weak people.

“Start from the beginning.” She gives me a pointed look and pours us another shot. I’m going to hate myself even more tomorrow.