Page 3 of Tripped Up

Before things with Stephen got so tense it bled over into work, my life in Massachusetts was perfect. It was my favorite of all the places I’ve ever lived. I was promoted to the symphony’s first fucking violin chair before I turned thirty. Now, at thirty-two, I was being tapped for major solos, and my music teaching gig was thriving.

And because my ex is an insecure asshole, I now have none of that.

Well, I’ll still have my friends, even if our friendship has to be nurtured from a distance.

Luckily, the Austin Symphony wanted me. They even gave me a raise over what Boston was paying me, and with the lower cost of living, I’ll finally be able to save a little. They liked me, just not enough to pay moving expenses, and even bootstrapping most of it myself, it hasn’t been cheap. Plus, now I’ll have to buy a car. I didn’t need one back in Boston, but here in Texas, everything is driving distance.

Wyatt shakes his head, drawing my attention back to him. He always has to be the center of the fucking universe. His strawberry-blond hair is a little longer than usual. There are red flecks in his light scruff, and I bet if he grew it out, it would be red.

Why the fuck does he have to be so fucking hot? It’s like the universe is taunting me, reminding me that the pretty people have everything, and everyone else—the fat, the ugly, the boring—has nothing.

I have nothing.

“Fuck. I have to buy a car,” I announce, and Bex winces.

“Have you figured out what you want yet?” he asks.

“No. I figured I’d go to a used lot and find whatever’s cheap and reliable.”

If Mitch were here, he’d be able to talk the car salesperson into giving me a deal. As it is, shopping as a single woman, I’m sure they’ll try to upsell and overcharge me on everything.

Wyatt makes a face, his disdain clear as day. “Want me to go with you?”

A frown twists my lips. “Why?” He doesn’t like me—why does he want to willingly spend more time with me?

He shrugs. “Moral support?”

“Seriously?” I laugh, and when he doesn’t crack a smile, mine falls. “You’re serious?”

“I have some free time tomorrow after I drop Bex at the airport.”

“You’d do that for me?” I’ve never hidden my dislike of him, and even if he doesn’t know why, he’s never backed down from a fight.

And we fight. Constantly.

“You’re my little sister’s friend. Sure.” The distaste on his face sings another tune.

“Don’t act like I’m twisting your arm.”

Bex looks between us. “This is perfect. You’ll look out for her, won’t you, Wy?”

He grunts.

“I don’t need anyone to look out for me. I’m fine.” Crossing my arms over my chest, I nearly knock over my Coke can.

Quick as lightning, Wyatt’s hand darts out and stabilizes it before it upends. He raises a brow, triumphant.

“Thanks,” I mutter, rolling my eyes. So he has good reflexes. Whatever. He’s a professional athlete. It’s part of the job description.

“You’ll invite her out, right?” Bex pushes. “I don’t want her hiding away because she doesn’t know anyone in town.”

“I’ll be fine. I’ve done this before,” I remind her.

“Yeah, but it’s different. With everything with you-know-who…”

My face pinches at the mention of my ex. “I won’t be a hermit.” Not any more than usual. I’m an introvert and a homebody by nature. “I’ve already got a lead on a book club and I’m sure I’ll make friends at work. Besides, I have to get some teaching gigs lined up. I’ll be too busy to go out much.”

Bex laughs and pats my arm. “Yeah. Okay. Keep telling yourself that.” She turns to her brother. “Make sure she doesn’t bury herself in work, too.”