Page 6 of Trying Not to Need You

“Bring on the pink frill.” Copeland chuckles. “I’m sure my life is about to be filled with the color pink, and I’m okay with that.” He settles next to Ellison.

I love the two of them together. I love that they found their way back to one another. Copeland gazes at Ellison like she’s the air he breathes, and looking back, I know I’ve never had that. I’ve never had a man love me the way that my brother-in-law loves my sister.

I want that kind of love. The deep-rooted, unshakable kind that doesn’t waver when things get hard or messy or inconvenient. The kind that feels like home, even when everything else is uncertain. The kind that doesn’t just exist in the easy moments, but in the quiet ones, too. The shared glances, the comfortable silences, the way someone instinctively reaches for your hand without thinking.

The kind of love that makes time for you because there’s just no other option. I want that. I want what they have.

Watching them, it’s impossible not to feel how natural they are together, how effortless. Like, no matter how far they drifted apart before, they were always meant to circle back to this exact point. To each other.

Ellison laughs at something Copeland says, her head tipping back slightly. His hand is on her belly, a gentle smile tugging at his lips. Anyone can see the love they have for each other. It’s always been Copeland and Ellison. Maybe some people are just written into each other’s stories from the start, no matter how many chapters try to keep them apart.

I wonder what that feels like. To be chosen like that. Not just once, but over and over again. To have someone look at you the way Copeland looks at her, like there’s nowhere else in the world he’d rather be.

My chest tightens, but it’s not quite jealousy. It’s something softer. A quiet longing. A hope I’ve spent the last several years refusing to acknowledge. I stayed far too long. I’m glad I found that medical bill. I’m relieved to know I’m not going to be spending more wasted time on a man who didn’t cherish me. I needed a push, and Friday night, the universe gave me one. And now I have the chance to search for something more.

Because I want that. I want someone to look at me like I’m everything. I want to know that the man I share my life with needs me next to him, just like Copeland needs Ellison. I want to feel like I’m enough. I want someone who, no matter where we are in this world, feels like home.

I want that, but not yet.

I need some time. I need to evaluate my life plan, my goals, and decide what I want for my future. Once I get myself worked out, and I’m settled wherever that might be, then I’ll let myself think about love, about finding my forever.

Two

Macklin

When Copeland called to tell me that his mom and sisters-in-law were throwing him and his new wife a co-ed baby shower, I didn’t even blink when I told him I’d be there. I know what you’re thinking. That’s creepy for a man to want to be at a baby shower, and normally, I might agree with you. However, Copeland and Ellison are two of my oldest friends, and I’m thrilled that they found their way back to each other and are starting a family. That’s my canned excuse. And it’s true. I might have even practiced it in the mirror in case the guys ask why I’m not grumbling the way that they are. You want to know the real reason? Well, the other reason?

Baylor Moran.

There really is no more explanation needed, but just in case, I’ll give you more. Baylor, with her long blonde hair and those big blue eyes, has captivated me for years. Her laugh is infectious, and her confidence is sexy as hell.

Baylor is five years younger than me. It wasn’t until her high school graduation that I really took notice of the woman she’d become. She had just turned eighteen, and I was twenty-three and already on the rodeo circuit. Baylor, just as smart as she was beautiful, was headed to college.

She was still far too young for me, and I was on the road all the time. She was also one of my closest friends’ little sisters, so instead of pursuing her, I kept my head down and focused on riding the next eight seconds.

I traveled the circuit, rode hard, and all the while, I never forgot the beautiful woman with long blonde hair. I tried. Trust me, I tried. No matter who was next to me, I was acutely aware that it wasn’t her. I can’t really explain it except to say it was like a light switch was turned on that day, and there she was. Beautiful Baylor, far too young, and so far out of my league, we weren’t even sitting in the same damn stadium. But still, I couldn’t stop thinking about her.

I came home anytime I knew she might be here, too. Spring break. Christmas. Random long weekends I pretended lined up with my schedule better than they actually did. My mother thought I was finally remembering where I came from, that maybe the road had stopped owning me so completely. She’d hug me a little tighter, cook a little more, smile like she’d won something back.

And yeah, I liked being home. I liked the smell of cedar that always lingered, and the way the screen door still stuck from time to time, and you had to give it a good push to open it. I liked my mom’s cooking and tinkering in the garage with Dad, talking about life, the circuit, and just spending time with them.

But all of those miles, all of those flights and long drives back to Magnolia Ridge?

They were for her.

I’d tell myself I didn’t know if she’d be there. That I wasn’t timing anything, wasn’t checking Baylor’s social media, wasn’t asking too-casual questions over the phone like “What’s everyone up to this weekend?” as if I didn’t already have a suspicion.

But I always knew.

She was no longer the kid who used to trail after Ellison, the guys, and me, making us all friendship bracelets and stealing fries off our plates. She wasn’t the girl I’d told myself was off-limits because she was too young. She was, however, still Ellison’s kid sister. I had no business noticing the way her blue eyes sparkled when she smiled.

Suddenly, she was different. She was more.

I spent years thinking about her more than I had any right to. That made every trip home feel as though I was walking a fine line that I wasn’t allowed to cross. I somehow managed to keep my distance and played it safe. I leaned into the role that was expected of me. Just one of the guys, one of her older sister’s friends. One of the three who helped pick up the broken pieces of her sister when Copeland left to enlist. I became the guy who was just passing through with dust on his boots and a bull to ride.

That didn’t stop me from watching her.

You learn a lot by keeping yourself on the sidelines, acting as if you don’t have a single care in the world. But inside, my heart raced anytime her name was mentioned. Watching her taught me that she tucked her hair behind her ear when she was nervous. I learned that she laughed with her entire body, as if holding back wasn’t even an option. Her feistiness shone through, but so did her loyalty to those she loved. Namely, her sisters.