I grabbed his shoulders and yanked him out the door. It was him calling me ‘son’ that had me throwing the first punch on our lawn. When my dad’s friend finally pulled me off of him, my dad stood up and wiped a stream of blood from his nose.
The whole time I was telling Shelby this story, she hardly moved a muscle. As for me, it happened like it always did with her when she finally got me to start talking. I started to get more comfortable doing it.
“Anyway, my dad reached into his pocket and threw a set of keys on the grass. He told me I’d probably be a blue-collar man my whole life, but now I couldn’t say he never tried to help me.”
Shelby’s hand gripped my forearm in outrage. “He said all that after he up and left you and your mom when you were a kid?”
“Yep.”
“I hate him,” she said.
“Yeah,” I whispered, huffing out a humorless laugh. “So that was my present from dear old Dad.”
Her tight, indignant clench on my arm brought with it a feeling of peace I hadn’t felt in a while. I’d buried that night deep down a long time ago, though the constant reminder from seeing the truck at my mom’s house never allowed it to go away completely. But Shelby’s anger validated complicated feelings I’d had my entire life and reminded me how she’d always had my back. I was beginning to realize how much I’d missed that in the years we’d been apart.
“Lock me in a room with him next time. I’ll take care of it,” she said.
“Your bloodthirsty nature is truly touching.”
“Don’t let it be said I’d never go to jail for you.”
I snorted. “Those lily-white hands wouldn’t last a day in jail.”
“Alright,” she said after she squeezed my leg. “After that, you tried to give away the truck, but that didn’t work out, right?”
“Logan and Tessa fell into my trap with all the eye-roll-inducing, clichéd love story I counted on.”
Shelby laughed. “They’re cute together.”
“Logan was a mess before I got to him. Complete idiot. They'd better change the name of that kid.”
She turned and gave me a knowing look. “That kid? The one you steal out of Tessa’s arms every time we see her and refuse to let anybody else hold?”
A smile slipped out of me just then. “That’s the one.”
“So what did the truck have to do with Miranda?”
I sighed dramatically.
“That’s right, pal. That story was just the prologue.”
“You’re as annoying as ever,” I said, inching closer.
“Spill it.”
“I met Miranda at one of my rodeos. She was there with some friends and we started flirting and…she was different from anybody I’d dated before. She seemed really into me. Her family was filthy rich, not that I really cared about that, but…deep down, all I could think about was what my dad had said, and I figured it couldn’t hurt for that detail to stick it to him.” I glanced down at her. “I know this is making me sound really great.”
She smiled. “Keep going, cowboy.”
“I did like her. At least, I liked the version of herself that she showed me, and then I just ignored all the red flags.”
“Did you love her?”
I paused, thinking back to those early days of Miranda and me. It felt like a lifetime ago.
“I thought I did. Looking back, though, I only loved her as well as I could without knowing what that word meant,” I finally stated. “She was like a puzzle for me to figure out every day. She loved playing hard to get, even after I thought I had her. She was a master of manipulating emotions. We’d have a great day together, and then the next day, she’d be moody and unpredictable. I’d spend the next week trying to figure out how to win her over again. And that became the pattern for our dating life. I became consumed by the idea of winning her, not thinking as much about the actual prize. Looking back now, that whole arrangement was mentally exhausting, but…I was a natural hunter, and she made for great prey.”
“Natural hunter?” Shelby scoffed. “Has she ever seen you shoot?”