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I want to protect her from this. From accusations she doesn’t deserve.
But I can’t because I’m the reason for them.
“Shit.” The loud explicative is the only warning we have before the tent next door comes loose, the beach breeze carrying it straight into Marissa. The two older women Val made friends with earlier hurry after it, managing to grab the thing just as it knocks Marissa to the ground.
I take full advantage of the chaos, knowing Val has a set of champions looking out for her. And they’ll do a hell of a lot better at it than I can. All I can do is bring my own bullshit to her door and she’s too fucking sweet to be tainted by it.
I grab my clothes, gut clenching at what I have to do.
Val’s eyes lock on me. “Fynn?”
“I’m sorry, Val. I shouldn’t have done this.” I finish collecting my things. “You don’t need me fucking your life up.” I give her one, last look, the tears edging her eyes cutting into my hide.
Then I turn and run to the boardwalk like the coward I am.
CHAPTER SIX
FYNN
SHE CRIED.
Raking one hand through my hair, I hang my head. “I made the first woman to look at me in months with something besides hate in her eyes cry.”
“It’s not your fault.” My neighbor Gavin kicks his feet up on my coffee table and switches the television on.
“The hell it’s not.” I grab a fresh bottle of bourbon from the kitchen cabinet and pour a glassful.
“You’re doing the right thing, man. They’ll eat her alive if they think she’s with you.” Gavin’s gaze moves from the screen to lock onto the glass in my hand. “Plus she’d end up burying you anyway, because you’re murdering your fucking liver.”
“Why shouldn’t I?” I fall into the leather armchair at one end of my sitting room and take a long drink. “Might as well put myself out of misery. Unless you’ve got a better bloody idea.”
Gavin blows out a long breath, shaking his head. “I dunno man. You’re in a shit spot.”
“Still.” I take another drink. “Fuck.” I drop my head to one hand. “What I wouldn’t give to be able to move.”
Gavin’s gaze is filled with sympathy when it levels on me. “I know. I wish you could too.” His lips barely lift into a lopsided smile. “Course you’d probably end up with a shit neighbor.”
Gavin’s one of only a handful of people who’ve unwaveringly stuck by my side through all this. Even my own kind turned their backs on me to avoid losing favor with the women in town. Not my overgrown beast of a neighbor, and it’s likely due to the fact he’s already ran through all the eligible women of Sweet Side.
“You could be the one who ends up with a shit neighbor when I go.” I look around the apartment I’ve called home for the past few years. It was an investment when I bought it. I planned to live here for a couple years, renovate while I expanded my commercial portfolio, then sell and move back to London.
But the return to London never happened. Can’t happen for the foreseeable future. I’m trapped and I hate that I’m selfish enough to be miserable about it. “I shouldn’t have to fucking move. I didn’t do anything wrong.”
“I know, man.” Gavin blows out a breath and leans back against my sofa. “It’s bullshit.”
Never in my wildest nightmares did I think this thing with Jessica would still be going on. I thought my public shunning would last a few weeks. Maybe a month.
But six months later the hatred for me is obviously alive and well and it’s killing me. Killing my business. And, like Gavin said, most likely killing my liver.
I set down the still-mostly-full glass and shove it away. Rubbing both hands over my face, I scrub at the burning in my eyes. “I don’t know what to do. I feel like I’m losing it.”
“Maybe you could take a vacation or something.” Gavin swipes at a long lock of his wavy dark hair, pushing it away from his face. “Get away from all this for a little while.”
“I wish I could.” I resist the temptation to retrieve my abandoned glass. “I can’t leave until things have leveled out with my mother.”
The sympathy returns to my friend’s eyes. “How’s she doing?”
Yet again I’m pulled to the bourbon and yet again I resist. “Surprisingly well.” I shake my head with a small laugh. “As eccentric as she ever was.”
