Wish for You (3 page)

He lets go of me, holding up his hands. “Oh yeah, I forgot. We’re just
friends
. Again. For some weak-ass reason you won’t even explain.”

Pain radiates out from my heart, and my chest tightens. I love that he’s speaking to me again, but I hate the words he’s using to wound me. “I’ll always be your friend, Wyatt.”

“
Fanfuckingtastic.”

I look away. I have to. Who knew the ramifications of letting him go would hurt this much? It feels as though someone on an opposing team has clotheslined me, just as I was about to pass them.

“
God.” He lets out a thick sigh. “I’m sorry.”

I blink up at him, my lips parting in shock. “You are?”

He gives me a lopsided grin. “Yeah. It’s not easy to hear that your kisses don’t measure up.”

I frown. “I never said that.”

“
It’s okay. Seriously.” He hooks a finger under my chin, and I want to lean into him. I want his arms around me, and I want to wrap mine around him. But I don’t. Everything is a
don’t
with him. “Let’s start the new year off right and go back to the way things were, ‘kay?”

“
Oh… okay.” But it’s not. I’m not. Still, I can be strong. I love Wyatt enough to let him go. “I have a charity bout in a few weeks. It’s us versus the Rambo-Bright team.”

His hand falls away, and his grin turns apologetic. “Sorry I missed your last game of the season.”

I scuff my shoe against the gravel of the parking lot. “I missed you being there. It reminded me of before, when you were gone for so long, and I didn’t know if you would ever come back.” Smashing my lips together, I tug at a thick lock of my hair for a few second, calming myself. “I was really happy when you came home, which is why I thought it would be a good idea to kiss you, but it wasn’t.”

Wincing, I brace for the worst. I hadn’t meant for the rest of that to come out. I hadn’t meant to remind him of the conversation we had less than a month ago.

“
Seriously, Lace. It’s fine.”

The tightness in my chest starts to ease. “Are you sure?”

He takes my hand, carefully unwinding my hair from around my finger. “Very. In fact, to unequivocally prove to you that I’m completely okay with us going back to being just friends, I’ve decided to play matchmaker and hook you up with a cool guy. Already have one in mind.”

My eyes grow big—I can feel them. It’s strange how I want him to go back to glaring Wyatt. I want him to want me, not this… whatever it is. But maybe this is how I repair my broken heart. Maybe this is how… Then, the most awful thought flashes in my brain. I could do the same for him.

I know I’m not good enough, but I know girls who are.

“
Then you have to let me do the same for you.” A black brow arches, and I blush. “Not a guy. A girl. You like girls, not guys.”

Wyatt holds up his fist, waiting for me to bump it with mine. “Awesome.”

Awesome?
I stare at him in disbelief. He takes my hand, the one that he’s still holding, and curls the fingers inward, then gently touches it to his.

The door to the bar opens, and people spill out.

“
Party’s moving to Beau’s,” Parker yells. “Bring Lacey and some of her roller derby girls.”

“
You coming, buddy?” Wyatt asks cheerfully, like we didn’t just commit to helping each other find dates.

Forcing the rising lump back down with a quick swallow, I manage to shake my head. “Like I said, it’s late.”

He backs away, winking at me while he calls out for Beau to wait for him. At the last minute, Wyatt gives me this look.

“
What?”

“
Go start up your car, sweetheart.”

“
You don’t have to wait for me.” Why am I arguing with him? In the past, I would have never argued with him.

“
Humor me.”

Just get it over with. Start up the car, drive away, and cry into your pillow for the rest of the night.
I tell myself this over and over as I make my way to the car, unlock it, and climb inside.

It turns on the first crank of the engine. But Wyatt still stands there. He pulls a beanie out of his coat pocket and shoves it on his head.

My mind whirls.

I have no idea how to handle this situation. Anxiety builds up, and my breaths start coming faster.
Don’t, don’t, don’t.
Not now, not while he’s looking. “I can handle this. Wyatt is only trying to be a good friend. Again.”

But I don’t want him to be a good friend.

A sob escapes my lips. My heart races, and I lean my forehead against the steering wheel. Suddenly, my door opens, and Wyatt is by my side, rubbing my back with his hand.

“
It’s okay, baby. Just breathe.”

“
I’m trying,” I wheeze, though I don’t have asthma.

“
You’re doing so good,” he says, and humiliation turns my body cold. I don’t want to do
so good
. I want to be normal, and not have it happen in the first place. But my stupid body won’t listen. “Take a deep breath for me… that’s it.”

I do exactly as he commands, and then snap my head up. “I’m fine. Go to your party. I have to go.” I practically shove him away, and he almost falls over. Shutting the door, I put the car in drive and slam my foot down on the gas.

A quick glance in my rearview mirror assures me that he’s unhurt. Wyatt stands, brushing off his jacket, and I focus on the road before me.

Breathe, Lacey, just breathe.

Chapter Three

Wyatt

Watching Lacey drive away isn’t easy. All I want to do is go after her, follow her home, and make sure she’s okay. Everything is so damn different now. Parker comes to stand beside me, but I’m in no mood for his wisecracks.

“
Save it,” I snap, striding toward my truck.

“
Just wanted to know if you needed a ride,” Parker says.

I stop and turn around. Usually, he’s the one who needs a ride, not me. “Is that your assbackwards way of asking for a ride? You’d think with West home, that you’d be all over him.”

Parker’s jaw clenches, his green eyes narrowing. “West is with McKenzie, and I’m trying to do the decent thing and give them some space.” He throws his arm around his date, a girl I’ve never met before, but I’ve been gone for almost two years, so that’s not exactly unexpected. “I have a ride.” He tips up his chin, and I look to the right.

A sporty BMW coupe is parked right beside Beau’s red F-250. “Yours?” Now, that is totally unexpected. If Parker had that kind of cash lying around, wouldn’t he have helped out Cole when their bar was about to shut down?

“
It’s a friend’s,” he says cryptically, and since his date doesn’t speak up, she can’t be the friend.

His answer makes me feel marginally better, but the entire conversation is awkward. It’s like he’s hiding something. “Nice friend.”

Parker shrugs. “Owed me.”

“
I’m ready to go,” his date says.

Parker turns his attention to her. “In a minute.”

“
Why are we going to Beau’s?”

“
Cole kicked us out.” He nuzzles the girl’s hair. “We were getting too wild in there for him, with all the hushed voices and lack of body shots.”

I shove my hands into the pockets of my coat, clicking a button on my key fob, and starting up my truck. “I’m sure Beau will remedy that.”

“
You’re not going?”

“
Nah.” Once I left this place, I planned to drive by Lacey’s to make sure she made it home okay. Her borrowed car didn’t have the best history. “Not really feeling the party vibe.”

Parker’s shrewd gaze assesses me as he smirks. “Don’t blame you. I’d check on her, too.”

Jealousy rises, and my hands clench into fists. I want to hit the smirk off his pretty-boy face. “How often did you check on her while I was gone?”

He laughs. “Calm your nuts. Cole and I kept
only
an eye on Lacey, exactly like you asked us
to do
, while you were gone. That’s it.”

Despite Parker’s assurance, despite the fact that I had asked them to keep an eye on Lacey, the jealousy keeps rising, only now fury joins in, shouting at me to beat the shit out of my buddy.

“
Stand down, Marine,”
Nathan says in my mind.
“This isn’t the way to win a battle.”

Barely maintaining control, I do an about-face and stride to my truck. In less than fifteen minutes, I’m cruising down Main Street, heading out of town toward Lacey’s neighborhood. She lives across the railroad tracks, where the yards are small, the houses are even smaller, and crime is big. Her parents moved to this side of town, so they could tend to the needy and poor. Only Lacey’s family isn’t rich, and they always need her help. Or so it seems.

The dog tags hanging from my rearview mirror catch my eye. My gut churns. It doesn’t matter that the sight of them makes me feel bad. I should feel bad. Hell, I
do
feel bad. I feel worthless and guilty, and not at all lucky, like every field medic and doctor told me.

Should’ve been me, Nathan.

An image of Nathan grinning big, like the aw-shucks farm boy from Kansas he was, flashes in my mind. I know what he’d say. I know what he’d think.

Cut the bull. It was war, buddy. Can’t make sense of war.

Now that Lacey doesn’t want me anymore, I can’t make sense of that either. Either way, my life is FUBAR.

I slow the truck down when I get to her street. Christmas lights still decorate most of the houses, and Lacey’s is no exception. Her borrowed car is in the drive, but by some miracle or neon-flashing Santa, I can see her sitting there. Automatically, I park my truck on the street and climb out.

Lacey doesn’t wait for me to come to her. She gets out of her car, eyes blazing and auburn hair swinging as she walks. God, I love her hair. The color, the texture… the fact that it is so soft, so sweet smelling, just like her. Her scent is the exact opposite of the smell of war and death. There were times when I wished I could have crawled inside of her and never left.

“
You didn’t have to follow me home, Wyatt,” she says, her voice all accusing.

I meet her in the middle, making sure to keep my hands to myself, though they’re itching to touch her. “I’ve always made sure you’ve gotten home okay.”

“
Except when you were gone,” she says, and then sighs. “You couldn’t help that though.”

Her bluntness has never bothered me, not until now. “Yeah, Uncle Sam seems to frown on Marines who go AWOL.”

“
You’d never do that,” she says, shifting from side to side. Her long skirt sways with her. Under the coat, she’s wearing a vintage t-shirt with the words #HASHTAG, accompanied by an image of two boxes of hash rounds running on it. I’d bought it for her two years ago, before I left for boot camp, because she likes silly shirts like that, and I like to be the one to make her smile.

A part of me was glad to see her wearing it tonight, though another part of me wanted to demand she give it back. She’d thrown my love for her in my face, and didn’t deserve anything from me. Only… I hadn’t told her I loved her so, in the grand scheme of things, I can’t justifiably accuse her of being heartless.

Lately, I’ve come to realize how easy I had it in the ‘Stan. While I was there, I had no idea how her lips tasted, how her breaths came out in little pants when I rocked against her... No way of knowing just how damn good the curves I’d lusted after while she skated in short skirts and tight tops would feel. Ignorance was total bliss, and dreaming of her while in that shithole was Heaven.

I’m no longer ignorant, and this is a new level of Hell.

For some unfathomable reason, I reach out and tuck a lock of wayward hair behind her ear. “You really should wear a hat.”

She licks her lips, my eyes following the movement of her pink tongue. “I gave mine to Hanna.”

Of course she did. Hanna is sixteen and very fashion conscious, with limited resources. I’m surprised her sister actually accepted it, because Hanna and Lacey’s styles clash.

Before Lacey can say no, I grab the beanie off my head and put it on hers.