Page 34 of Blush Crush

“You okay, man?” Ethan asks, concern etched across his forehead as we stand by the bar. Or maybe it’s irritation. He’s not the easiest guy to read.

A pang of guilt strikes, strong enough that I struggle to meet his eyes. If Ethan knew all the inappropriate thoughts I was having about his little sister, I think he’d actually kill me. He’s the only one of the crew I’m convinced could be a serial killer.

After Ariana left the patio, I stayed out there a few minutes longer, trying to get my head on straight before rejoining the guys.

Ethan and I golfed earlier today, and as we were finishing up our round, he invited me to come out with him and his brothers. It was surprising, given how much Ethan hates anything involving crowds, but I was eager for a distraction. Little did I know the person I was trying to distract myself from would be here too.

My gaze drifts to Ariana, dancing with the girls, before I clear my throat and try to pull myself together. “I think I’m going to take off,” I tell him. “Feeling a little queasy.”

It’s not entirely a lie. I feel like shit.

I don’t want to want Ariana. I don’t want this feeling at all.

Ethan accepts my flimsy excuse, and I make a swift exit, but not before sneaking one last look at the only woman I can’t have.

Bill Benton is a hardass.

I love my dad. I respect my dad. But sometimes I don’t like him very much.

Before the accident, he was different—warmer, more attentive with us kids. He used to be a goofball, which is hard to believe now as he watches me with a hardened expression. Whatever softness he once possessed died a long time ago.

The only time I catch a glimpse of the man he used to be is when he’s with Danny. But more often than not, he’s unrecognizable. That person only exists in my memories.

I don’t usually make it a habit to talk business on the weekends, but my dad likes to stay informed. Seeing as I made some significant decisions today, I figure he’ll appreciate the transparency.

After I finish my spiel, he sits silently, observing me. He’s quiet long enough for the collar of my T-shirt to feel too tight, almost suffocating. A lifetime of constantly seeking his approval and never meeting his expectations has done more than fuck me up.

It’s gotten to the point where I don’t think anything I do will ever be good enough.

The consequences of being born the spare, not the heir.

“Well, are you happy with the decision?” he asks finally.

No.

Despite my knee-jerk reaction, I nod my head yes. I’m not pleased with my own solution in the slightest, but in the end it’s what’s best. And what’s best isn’t always easy—just necessary.

“I think it’s great.” He smiles, which throws me a bit. “Better to focus on the bigger picture.”

I huff a laugh, almost in disbelief. I’d been prepared for a lecture about how, once again, I’m ruining the family business.

Now I’m suspicious about what his angle must be.

“Is that all?” I ask hesitantly.

He relaxes a little more in his seat. “Now that Jack has retired from Ledger, we’ve been spending more time together. Two old guys who spent their careers competing, and now we laugh about it. I see the way he is with Ethan—how he’s much more hands-off than I’ve been—and they seem to be having a great year. I’m starting to think it might be time to take a page out of Jack’s book and stop hovering so much. Might do us both some good, huh?”

I think I might’ve stepped into an alternate dimension, because surely I didn’t just hear my dad compliment Jack Ledger and, in the same breath, agree with me.

“Don’t look so surprised.” He chuckles. “This old dog can still learn a thing or two.”

“I don’t know about that.” A strained laugh slips out of me—one I’m sure Nora or Wyatt or Blake would assume meant our dad was in the middle of torturing me.

He claps me on the back as he leaves, and I barely register the rest of the exchange. Shocked is an understatement.

Still, I’m afraid to let my guard down with whatever version of my dad that was. Because he could just as easily revert back to the man he usually is.

Now that he’s gone and I’m left alone in the silence of my oversized house, I’m forced to confront the real reason behind my decisions today. I wish I could say they were made for the good of the company, but the truth is a hell of a lot more selfish.