NO LONGER THERE

CLUSTER NINE

THE TALK

That evening, Bryce met me in the driveway.

When he did, I adjusted my baseball cap and stepped into the warm Texas breeze. Smiling, he and Hershey high- five'd about her new jeep.

"You really did it, huh?"

I grabbed a few bags out of the frunk, then closed it.

"Yup, and thanks for sending us to your guy. He was great."

"That's good, but have you rested since you got in this morning?"

"A little." Taken aback, I stalled my kiss to ask, "Why, I look that bad?"

"You never look bad, babe. I'm just concerned about you."

He obviously thought I looked bad. Instantly annoyed, I rolled my eyes before responding. "I'm fine, Bryce."

Though I wasn't fine, I flipped on my coached smile, then strolled into the house. My charade was met by the delicious aromas of Nana's cooking. Teasing my senses, she closed the stove in time for me to see the macaroni and cheese bubbling over. I loved her, our family's own version of Paula Deen.

I kissed her, and she grinned. She had gotten the call about personalizing her new Hoveround. No more stink eye for me. I put the bags away, placed my phone the counter and grabbed an apron. Nana snatched it out of my hands and nodded her head towards Bryce, standing by the pool.

"Nana—"

"Go talk to that man. You've been avoiding him like he actually does have a mystery baby."

She was right. I knew she was right. I just didn't know what to say when I had so many variations of fear whirling inside of me. Knowing I would drag it out, she nudged me, forcing me to the backyard to deal with each and every fear.

When I walked up, he didn't even turn around.

"I'm happy you're home, but I'm also confused, Aves."

"About?" I had gotten good at playing the clueless role.

I stood next to him. Instead of being amazed by his sexiness, I was taken aback by the whiskey glass in his hand. Bryce Allen Phillips didn't drink.

"Is that tea?"

His shoulders swiftly raised, then lowered. He lifted the glass to his moist lips and took a slow sip. Nope, that wasn't tea. We don't sip tea in Texas.

I shook my head. "You don't drink, Bryce."

He looked at the glass in his hand, smiled at me, then took another sip.

"So, are we going to talk or am I going to watch you do something you said you despise." I asked.

"Oh, I don't know, maybe you can stand there and ignore me like you ignore my calls."

"I don't ignore your calls."

"So, that's how this conversation is going to go."

He sipped again.

I rolled my eyes and stood defensively in the shadow of his six foot frame.

"I have a lot on my mind."

"And I don't?" He snapped. "But somehow, I don't find it necessary to ignore you. For you, I always have time."

"It's not about time, Bryce."

"Enlighten me then. What is it about?"

I didn't care for his tone or the drink in his hand.

"Everywhere I go I am faced with you, her, us. My career seems as though it's an afterthought. I'm frustrated and—"