The Heat Is On (Boston Five Book 1) (7 page)

His hands dropped to his sides, and he gave her a stunned look. “Hayden, I remodeled that house for you—”

“Wrong,” she croaked. “You did it for
us
. If you don’t want to move in, we have no choice but to sell it, because I am definitely not going to stay there.”

She could see how unhappy he was with her words, because he jutted his chin out—the unmistakable sign that a Fitzpatrick was angry. But she knew how to deal with that.

“I did not spend two years working my ass off to make that house a home—each and every weekend, every day off—only for you to move into some dumpy apartment now, Hayden.”

Her laugh sounded dry and shrill. “You just said it, Heath.
You
put so much work into it, so
you
should be the one to live in the house, instead of your own dumpy apartment.”

“But I don’t want to.”

“Fine,” she said with a sigh. “What about the car?”

“What about it?” Heath shrugged impassively. “I don’t need it.”

“Neither do I,” she shot back sharply. There was no way around it. She had to point out the obvious. “We bought it because we wanted to have children. What am I supposed to do with a family van if I do not have a family?”

The corners of his mouth curved downward, and he rubbed his face as if he was tired of this argument, which made her press her lips together angrily.

“Listen, Hayden. I’m perfectly content with my apartment and my old car. So let’s just leave things as they are.”

She wet her lips, not trusting her ability to speak without trembling, and stood straighter. “If you want to go through with this separation, we’re going to have to settle these things. I don’t want to stay in our house; you don’t want to move into it. That means we have to sell it. If you don’t want to bother, I’ll get a realtor to do it. It shouldn’t be hard to get a good price on the car, either. Which leaves us with what to do about the account and the loan.”

“I’ll pay off the loan.”

She frowned, half annoyed and half puzzled. A fellow teacher at her school had gone through a divorce two years ago. She remembered how the woman had fought over each piece of furniture and every single cent. But this was the opposite. Heath didn’t want to keep anything and was obviously bent on bearing all the expenses.

“That’s out of the question,” Hayden said. “We took that loan out for remodeling costs as well as for my tuition. I’m going to pay it off.”

He, too, straightened at that, and she couldn’t help staring up at him, her glance snagging his green eyes, which seemed to bore into hers.

“The installments are deducted from my account, so you don’t get a say in that, Hayden.”

“I don’t understand what you’re trying to do here.” Her hands slipped from her pockets. “Are you trying to confuse me even more?”

“I only want to see that you’re provided for.”

A mirthless laugh escaped her lips. “It’s a little late to be concerned about me. And I’m well able to provide for myself, thank you.”

He sighed and cocked his head to the side. “I’m just trying to make sure this breakup doesn’t mess up your life.”

Dumbfounded, she stared into his eyes, hardly able to believe her ears. She no longer cared that her voice was trembling as she said, “Joe is dead, my fiancé dumped me suddenly one day, and the whole family is disintegrating, yet you have the guts to stand there and say you don’t want this to mess up my life? Do you even know what you’re saying?”

“Then sell the house, for heaven’s sake!” Heath threw his hands in the air. “If you’re so keen on losing your home—”

“No, I’m not,” she spat, barely able to contain her anger. “I don’t
want
to sell the house, but what else am I supposed to do when you’re being this inconsiderate?”

“Inconsiderate? I just told you to keep everything!”

Hayden felt like kicking him. “You want to break up, fine, but then you need to accept that we break up our assets and debts, as well. How could you think I’d want to live in that house now that it’s all over between us?”

“But …”

She scowled at him. “I’m not going to argue about this anymore.”

Heath was silent as he stared at her. After a while, he said, “Do whatever you want, Hayden. It’s not important to me anymore.” His voice was devoid of emotion.

When he turned and walked toward the locker room, she called after him angrily, “And come pick up your stuff, or I’ll throw it in the trash!”

Chapter 4

Heath dropped his hand into the peanut bowl, let his eyes wander over the TV screen above his head, and then reached for his beer, taking a large sip. The sounds of the other patrons mingled in his ears, barely drowning out the yells and whoops of a bunch of college students who were playing pool in the other room, and who were obviously having a great time.

He had just finished a twenty-four-hour shift and felt so knocked out that he could have fallen asleep right here on the pub floor, which was sticky from spilled beer and who knew what else. He hadn’t gone home to his dump, because he knew he wouldn’t have been able to think about anything but his encounter with Hayden. That’s why he’d come to the pub, where he was now on his third beer. Heath knew full well that he cut a miserable figure, getting drunk on a regular basis and avoiding the company of friends and family, the people who loved him most. He was living like a hermit, staying in his den, going to work, taking over long shifts, and only venturing out to the pub to get drunk. He would sit at the bar in silence, thwarting anyone’s attempt at conversation, and leave as soon as he felt drunk enough to find sleep. On the days he felt
really
depressed, he didn’t even stop by here, but drove straight home to get drunk there, alone.

The only exception had been two days ago, when he’d visited his mom, after Ryan’s prodding. His conversation with his mom had been anything but uplifting, because he felt everything she did and said was covertly rebuking him for breaking up with Hayden.

Why did everyone feel to the need to tell him he was making a mistake? He knew that full well. He wasn’t an idiot, and he didn’t
want
to lose her, but he felt that a wreck of a man such as himself shouldn’t be clinging to a woman like her—he’d only drag her down with him. Hayden deserved better than a guy who was too chicken to even make an appointment with a psychologist. How could he take care of a wife, and maybe kids at some point, if he couldn’t even get his own life back on track?

He couldn’t bear the thought of being responsible if her life took a similar turn for the worse like his had already done. That’s why he’d broken up with her. It hurt him to see how unhappy it made her, but he was sure she would move past him, given a little time.

It was definitely better for her to suffer a broken heart now than to go through worse in a few years’ time.

He tried to comfort himself with that thought, but whenever he woke up in his empty bed and missed her presence at his side, he felt as if an invisible force was slowly choking him.

He was staring at his half-empty glass when someone slapped his shoulder. He glanced to the side and sent a silent prayer heavenward. Or was it a curse? As if his day hadn’t been bad enough, the almighty God had to send his sister to torture him. Without a moment’s hesitation, she sat down on the bar stool beside him.

“Hey,” she said. “What are you doing here?”

“That’s a dumb question,” he muttered into his glass, signaling to the red-headed barman that he wanted to close his tab. He slid his hand into his back pocket to pull out his wallet, but Kayleigh placed a hand on his arm.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“I was just about to head home …”

His sister jutted her chin forward, and the eyes that glared at him were identical to the ones he saw each morning in the mirror. “I need to have a word with you, big brother.”

“Get in line,” he muttered. Then, with a sigh, he turned to calmly face her halfway; he knew she could deal a mean right hook. He should have gotten up and left immediately, because he was certain she wanted to talk about Hayden, but he’d never been able to refuse his sister anything. Too many times, he and Shane had protected her, the way big brothers do. They’d beaten up boys who had teased her on the playground, who had hit on her when she was a teenager. He couldn’t just ignore her now. No matter how much she might insist she could pick her own battles—and several pushy suitors could testify to her effectiveness, having walked away with a black eye—she would always remain his little sister. Sometimes he felt like cursing his parents for teaching their sons to take care of their sister.

“Why is Hayden no longer wearing your ring?”

He flinched inwardly, and clamped his teeth together so Kayleigh wouldn’t notice how that had shocked him. He hadn’t even been paying attention at the station, so he didn’t know whether Hayden was still wearing the ring he’d given her. He’d discovered it and bought it for her in a tiny jewelry shop after looking for the perfect one for weeks. Buying the house and paying for the remodeling material had devoured every last cent of his savings, so he’d pawned his motorcycle to buy her the pretty diamond ring. The thought that she might not be wearing it anymore made his throat burn.

He remained outwardly calm, however, and shrugged indifferently. “She can do whatever she wants.”

“So you wouldn’t mind if she met another man?”

The day he got wind of that, he’d probably drink himself into a stupor, but he didn’t tell his sister that. Instead, he said tersely, “Why should I?”

“But—”

“Listen, Kayleigh, I was the one who broke up with Hayden, so she can do what she wants. It’s none of my business anymore.”

She blinked incredulously, and Heath couldn’t blame her. He was usually an incredibly jealous person, so his attitude was bound to utterly confuse her. “I don’t know what’s wrong with your brain all of a sudden, but if I were you, I’d get it fixed as soon as possible.”

“Kayleigh, shut up,” he growled.

“No, I won’t. I always thought you’d go berserk at the thought of another man hitting on Hayden, and now you’re not even mildly concerned about it?”

“Isn’t that the purpose of breaking up? You don’t have anything to do with each other anymore.” He grabbed his beer glass and emptied it in one large gulp.

“God, you are such an asshole,” she replied coldly. “Hayden is part of the family! You’ve been together forever.”

“But we aren’t anymore,” he insisted, his voice harsh and grating even to his own ears. He hoped that was enough to make her stop going on about his broken relationship. It wasn’t just the topic itself that was getting to him; it was also the sheer disgust in his sister’s eyes when she looked at him.

“You’re going to regret this one day …”

Heath shook his head. “You’re repeating yourself.”

“If you go on acting like this, it won’t be long until she meets another guy. Do you really want to stand by and watch a new guy move into your dream house?”

It took all his strength not to crush the glass in his hand. “Hayden told me today that she wants to sell the house. So it’s unlikely she’ll live there with her new man.”

Groaning, his sister shook her head. “But it is your house. Both of yours. You can’t let her sell it.”

“I’ve had it, Kayleigh, so you better listen to me now.” He looked her straight in the eye, hoping to look grim enough to make her drop it. “Hayden and I are going separate ways. We don’t live together anymore, and we won’t be getting back together. Never. She gets it, so it’s time you wrap your head around it, too. And while you’re at it, you can tell our brothers to drop the subject, too.”

She snorted indignantly. “They’re your problem, not mine!” When her fist hit the bar, the barman shot her a curious glance, but then he turned back to wiping glasses. “If you don’t like them being worried about you, you can talk to each of them yourself.”

“Worried?” he echoed derisively, leaning back on his stool. “My little brother cornered me in the grocery store and then had the nerve to ask me about my sex life!”

Kayleigh glared at him. “Did you really sleep with other women?”

Heath ran a hand through his hair in irritation. “That is none of your goddamn business! What gives you the right to ask me a thing like that?”

“You making Hayden cry, you stupid jerk!”

His throat went tight again, but he shrugged it off. “She wanted to hear it from me—”

“Do you really have nothing better to do than screw around while everyone else is mourning Dad’s passing?” She slid down from her stool and gave him one last, disparaging look. “I never would have thought that I’d ever be ashamed of you. Congratulations, Heath. Maybe Hayden is really better off without you.”

Wasn’t it supposed to rain at funerals?

Heath was sitting between his mom and Hayden, feeling paralyzed, staring up at the blue sky over the cemetery. In every movie he’d ever seen, it was raining when a funeral was taking place. It would pour, and the world would look bleak and gray. But at his father’s funeral, the sun was shining and there wasn’t a single cloud in the sky. It was actually rather hot for an April day, and he was sweating underneath his uniform, which he’d scrambled into while his shoulder burned like fire. The injury was still throbbing badly now, causing him discomfort and pain, but that wasn’t the worst part.