Fall Guy (A Youngblood Book) by Reinhardt, Liz (knowledgeable books to read TXT) 📕

I don't care if it's desperate, I don't care if it's all just the same damn merry-go-round of pain of and disappointment. I want him. I want him so badly, and I need him.

I need him, even if needing him is the worst idea in the world.

I'm tired of fighting it, trying to make sense out of all the bad mixed-up with the smattering of good that has defined our relationship so far.

"I'm listening."

My ears can hear her, anyway. But my heart and mind are already racing out the door ahead of this conversation, hoping to catch up with him, wanting to be back with him.

"You're chasing him and he wants to run, darling. If he isn't attached you now, he never will be. Listen to me."

Her voice is so desperate, I look up and resolve to listen. Really listen.

She takes a deep breath in. "Love, I've watched you grow up amid all this chaos. And Granddaddy and I tried to do right by you, but we don't always know what to make of things. Look how we parented our fool daughter. We were never mad at you for getting into trouble. You have violent emotions. I know too well how that is. But, listen to me; you need to let go of this one."

"Gramma," I begin, and it sounds like I'm about to recite some kind of speech even though this is all off the cuff of my crazed heart. "I love him. Really, I do. And we can make it work. Like you said, I have what it takes to be strong. I have what it takes to make this all happen..."

I trail off and watch her shake her head back and forth. "It isn't you, love. It isn't you I doubt. It's him. If he's so easily swayed, it will be your mother and father all over again. He never stood up for their love. There were always distractions, Evan. You remember?"

I swallow hard. "But it was the races with Daddy. It was gambling. A vice. This is family."

"Family." She rolls the word on her tongue. "Darling, family can be the very devil in disguise. More powerful than any drug, more alluring than any sin. They can demand a loyalty that will rip your heart out and chew it up without the thought of an apology. You don't need to say a word, but I want you to think about what he's done for them. What they may ask him to do in the future. I know the Youngbloods by reputation, and I'd caution you strongly before you took up with one."

"But he's--"

Gramma puts a hand up. "Evan Lennox, I'm the last woman in the world who'd judge a man by his name. But I do know how to weigh a man's actions. And his actions make your daddy's habit of gambling on the horses seem very tame. I'm begging you, do not open your arms to the heartache your mother put up with for so long."

The warpath drum of my heart has slowed, and she puts her hands on my shoulders, turns me, and pulls the elastic out, letting my hair fall in waves around my shoulders. "Tonight's date might be a blip in your radar. Or it might be a step in the direction of a lifelong, rewarding love. All I'm asking is that you open your heart and let go of this boy who's had you so twisted."

"But he loves me, Gramma."

The words cusp out on a breath that's trying not to dissolve into tears.

"I have no doubt at all that his feelings for you are strong. But if his actions don't measure up to his intentions, you're better off without him. Your granddaddy and I have kept our mouths shut for a few weeks now. But we decided to say our piece, and now I've said it and feel better. Your passions have ruled your head and heart for a long time now, sweetie. And it's brought you nothing but heartache. Let go of this one and open up to the possibility of something new. Something better."

She runs her fingers through my hair, gently undoing the tangles.

My throat feels closed up. My eyes burn. My heart is a lump in my chest, motionless, bloodless, empty. Winch roared away before he got a chance to talk to me. I slide my phone out of my pocket.

No text. No message. No missed call.

He gave up on me, again.

He probably got a call from Remy. Again.

The pattern will never end, no matter how much he wants it to.

Because his intentions don't match his actions.

I've given him so many chances, opened my heart to him, and had him open his to me. But if he doesn't choose me, choose us, there's nothing I can do. There's no way I can right this. Slowly, slowly, I will my stomach to unclench and my heart to pick up a plodding pace again. I kiss my grandmother on the side of her mouth.

"I love you. You're right. First step. Tonight, I take my first step." I manage to say it without crying. Mostly because I shut down completely. "Now, if you will excuse me, my hair is a mess, and I have to fix it."

Gramma beams and I walk up the stairs, head high, turn into my bathroom, soak a washrag in cold water, set my phone alarm for five minutes, then cry thick, shaky, moaning sobs into the cloth until the beep sounds.

It was the same amount of time I gave Winch on our first date. I should have walked away when that alarm first sounded. I didn't then, but I will now. I have to.

I sit at my vanity and fix my hair, put on my makeup, and just when I brush the eighteenth coat of mascara on my eyelashes, the doorbell chimes. I hear Granddaddy answer and exchange hearty, manly words with the guy who's waiting downstairs. He's some son of some colleague of my