CHAPTER FOUR
Leaning into the turn, Fin accelerated. The thrill of controlling his bike, of pushing the angle so far he could smell the asphalt, sparked his aggression. Hell, yeah.
A form in the middle of the road sent a shock of awareness through him, and he pulled back on the throttle. After a moment the figure clarified into a body. A man.
His brother.
Fucking Will.
Pretending to be an aircraft marshal, Will pointed a finger at him and then motioned to the side of the road. Forget that. Fin needed to ride out this crazy energy. But just before blowing past, he glimpsed the lights of Calamity a half-mile away. After all he’d gone through to make it home in time for the wedding he couldn’t risk getting arrested the night before.
Edging onto the shoulder of the road, he planted his boots on the ground. “What?”
Will tipped his head toward their ranch, completely dark at this hour. “Saw your headlights on my way into town.”
“Yeah. Out for a ride.”
“Good night for one.” He came closer. “Brodie’s got us a table at Sweet Baby Jane’s.”
With a curt nod, Fin said, “I’ll catch up with you later. Got to blow off some steam.”
“That proposal?” Will gave a slow shake of his head. “Came out of nowhere.”
Fin cranked the handle, making the engine roar. He needed to ride. To shake it off.
“That had to be tough to watch,” Will said. “You okay?”
The way his brother looked at him, eyes filled with concern, made Fin kill the ignition.
“No.”
“Yeah. I get that. But…” Even though he gave a casual shrug, Will watched him carefully. “She’s changed, though, right? She’s not the girl you grew up with. Looks like she’s moved on.”
In other words, You should, too. Fin’s fingers flexed on the rubber grips. He’d run over Will before talking to him about Callie. His brothers didn’t get it. Never would. “Sure, man. Now let me finish my ride, and I’ll meet up with you guys later.” His gaze cut away, toward the dark, imposing peaks of his mountain range. The snow glowed in the moonlight.
That woman tonight—that wasn’t Callie. She’d leveled that cool gaze on him like he was just someone she’d passed in the hallway from time to time. What the hell happened to her?
Christ, her boyfriend had proposed to her. Fin couldn’t stand it. Just couldn’t fucking stand it.
“Thing is, Brodie’s only in town for two days,” Will said. “So how about we grab a beer and you can tell us about your trip?”
He didn’t want to be around anyone. Maybe he’d head up the trail and ride the rim of Dead Man’s cliff. Only that kind of rush could chase the darkness out of his head.
“Hey.” Will gave the handlebars a shake. “When was the last time we had three brothers in town at the same time?”
“I’m riding.” He bit off each word.
“At night. On a dirt bike.” Will grinned. “And I saw the sparks when your kickstand hit the pavement.”
Fin smiled. “That was cool, right?”
His older brother nodded. “Yeah, man. It was. Now, come on. Let’s not leave Brodie alone with all the pretty tourists. It isn’t fair to the other guys.”
Fin swung a leg off his bike. Their dad didn’t have a lot of rules for his sons, but not “pissing in their own pool” was one of them. Made sense. In a small town like Calamity, their dad had wanted his family to be on good terms with everyone.
Since his brothers weren’t all that interested in romantic relationships, they’d figured that meant steering clear of dating townies. But women loved Brodie—and not just for his looks and brawn, but because of his attitude. He just didn’t give a damn. Always preoccupied with some project or another, he didn’t ogle or flirt. Women seemed to want to be the one to win him.
Fin walked his bike to Will’s truck. Together they lifted it and shoved it onto the bed.
Will clapped him on the shoulder. “Glad you’re back, man.” Their boots crunched on asphalt as they headed for the cab. Just as Will opened his door, he said, “And, listen, don’t let it get to you, okay? It’s just a meme. Something new will pop up tomorrow.”
Meme? Fin had no idea what he was talking about.
An old Western tourist town at the foot of the Tetons, Calamity was hopping in June, so they parked in the back lot of the yoga studio.
The last thing Fin wanted to do was sit in a crowded, airless bar, but he did want to spend time with Brodie before he headed back to Utah, so he followed Will down the narrow alley towards Main Street.
He just…he couldn’t get that guy out of his head. Callie’s boyfriend—fiancé?—wore a bracelet. That shine on his fingernails meant he got manicures. What the hell was she doing with a high-maintenance guy?
Except she’d looked just like him, hadn’t she? In that sleek black dress and pearls and those black spikey heels… since when did Callie blow her hair dry and wear pearls?
His phone buzzed, and he saw a text from Nolan, one of his snowboarding buddies.
Took your advice, tweaked the take-off, and it worked. Still slow, though. Don’t know what’s going on.
Fin didn’t need to think about it. Get a notebook. Write down everything you eat for 2 weeks. Most athletes got tired of keeping up the degree of fitness required to compete at an elite level, so in the off-season they eased back. Fin would bet anything Nolan was drinking too much and loading up on carbs. Keeping a log would help him figure that out.
His friend wrote back right away. I eat good, man. You make sure of it.
Nobody wanted to give up booze, sugar, and bread, he got that. But then they shouldn’t complain about their performance.
He texted back. You can keep being frustrated and slow or, for 2 weeks, you can write down everything you eat and drink.
Nolan responded right away. Fuck off.
Fin smiled. Your choice.
Once they hit Main Street, they entered the flow of pedestrian traffic. The air smelled of barbecue from Skeeter’s Bar and Grill. Three long streets filled with businesses that sold everything from taxidermy animals and Old West antiques to clothing and food faced the town green.
Families sat on benches eating ice cream cones, skater boys zig-zagged through the crowd on the sidewalk, and couples peered into store windows looking at art, Western wear, and giant mounted grizzly bear and moose heads.
But the only thing he could see was Callie’s expression when she’d come back after chasing her boyfriend. She’d been upset throughout dinner, and Man-Bracelet hadn’t been with her. Something had gone down between them.
So was she getting married or not? She’d always wanted to go to NYU, so he was glad she’d done it. But marrying someone? Living there permanently?
She’d be out of his life for good.
He couldn’t wrap his head around it. She was supposed to forgive him at some point.
Anxiety barreled through him. He had too much energy and no outlet. The idea of her not coming home…of never forgiving him…Jesus.
He couldn’t accept it. He wouldn’t. From the time they were little kids they’d had a connection. His brothers used to make fun of him for his “crush,” but even back then he’d known it wasn’t as simple as that. It was a bond. It was…He blew out a breath.
Everything felt wrong. His world had tipped sideways, and he couldn’t get his bearings.
When they reached the bar Will held the door open, but he might as well have been trying to shove him off the edge of a cliff. Because Fin wasn’t going. He needed to talk to Callie. Right now.
Three months after she’d left for college, she’d blocked him on her phone and social media. Each time he’d flown to New York City to talk to her, she’d iced him. And on the rare occasion she came to town, she was like a ghost.
But she was here now, and it was past-time they had a damn conversation. Just as he spun around to leave, his brother said, “Brodie heads back on Sunday. One beer?”
Fin drew in a breath. Fine. One beer with his brothers. Then, he’d go see Callie.
He stepped inside to the blast of heat, country music, and buzz of conversation.
Familiar faces gave him chin nods and smiles.
An old friend came up and shook his head. “You can’t do anything at a normal level, can you?”
Fin had no idea what the guy was talking about and, right then, he didn’t give a damn, so he just gave him a fist bump and moved on. He tipped his chin to people he knew as he moved through the crowded room.
Until it struck him that people weren’t actually smiling. They were laughing at him.
“Way to make a name for yourself, bro,” someone shouted from across the room.
“Fin Bowie, takin’ it global,” someone else said.
What were they talking about? His gut twisted when he remembered his toast. Yeah, he’d put himself out there, but he’d meant every damn word. Except…these guys hadn’t been at the rehearsal dinner, so had someone talked about it? Had it become some joke in town?
His chest tightened, but he shook it right off. Not only had he given Ryder good advice, he’d sent a message to Callie, so they could all go fuck themselves. He powered through the mob.
A guy from his old MSU ski team stood up from a table. “Only you could piss off a woman bad enough for it to go viral, dude.” He held up his phone. “Check it out. It’s up to thirty thousand comments.”
“Comments?”
Confusion pulled on the guy’s features. “The meme. You don’t know about it?”
Will stepped between them. “Come on. Brodie got us a table in the back.”
What did a meme have to do with him?
It had to be the proposal. Relief slammed him. Someone had probably recorded it with a phone. That shit would definitely spread. A guy proposing in the middle of toasts at someone’s rehearsal dinner? And then running off like a bitch when his girlfriend didn’t answer? If Fin hadn’t been involved, he’d be laughing, too.
Man-Bracelet didn’t know Callie at all if he thought proposing to her in front of an audience would work. For all her guts and confidence, she was an introvert. She liked quiet, one-on-one conversations. She needed intimacy.
But, of course, Man-Bracelet didn’t know her. That woman at the rehearsal dinner in the fancy dress and pearls? With that uppity voice? That wasn’t Callie. That was Callie playing the role of Calliope.
As they passed a table, a big dude shouted, “Yo, World’s Worst Boyfriend!”
World’s Worst Boyfriend? A quick scan of faces revealed everyone was in on the joke.
“Sit down, and I’ll explain it.” Will steered him to the booth, where Brodie sat with a bunch of his high school friends. When he gave them an expression that said, You mind? they all started clearing out.
“Don’t do anything yet,” Brodie told the guys. “Give me some time to think about it, and let’s meet on Monday, okay? I’ll have some ideas by then.”
With murmurs of agreement, the friends said quick goodbyes.
Fin slid into the booth. “Hey.”
“Hey, man.” Brodie gave him a warm smile.
“So what’s going on?” Fin asked. “What’s with the Worst Boyfriend thing?”
His two oldest brothers shared a look before Will pulled out his phone, tapped the screen, and then held it out to him. “That last text you sent Traci, when you left her in the ER? She posted it on Instagram.”
Oh, shit. Had he said something stupid? He couldn’t remember.
He read the screen. Thanks for a great time. :) Gotta jet. Talk soon.
That seemed pretty basic. “Okay?” Just as he peeled his gaze away it snagged on the comment section. “What the hell?”
Fin Bowie, you suck.
What is the matter with you? How could you do that to your girlfriend?
“Traci’s not my girlfriend.” He pulled the phone out of Will’s hand and read more of them.
I’ve seen some shitty things in my life, but leaving your girlfriend to have surgery alone in a foreign country? Fuck you, Fin Bowie. Fuck you.
He looked up at his brothers. “I didn’t leave her alone.” He scrolled the page looking for Traci’s handle. What had she said to make people think that?
But he didn’t see it anywhere. “I don’t get it. Do they think we were on some kind of romantic vacation together? There were six of us in two tents. Five guys and Traci. We were snowed in for a week.”
Will tapped his fingertips on the scarred wood tabletop. “Looks like her fans came to their own conclusions.”
“Why doesn’t she correct them?”
Brodie gave him an annoyed look. “She’s in surgery.”
Right. Of course. “Then she’ll explain it when she’s out.”
“Yeah,” Brodie said. “That’ll be her first priority.”
Rereading the text, he could see how callous it sounded. “I was joking. She was a mile away from base camp, long past any real danger, when it happened. It was shit luck. What could I say to that? I knew she’d be scared out of her mind. I was being sarcastic.” He hadn’t thought for a second anyone but Traci would see it. “Why does anyone care about some text I sent?”
Brodie tipped back his beer bottle and drained it. “Because she’s a famous snowboarder whose career might’ve just ended.”
Both Fin and Will watched their brother. They knew what lived behind Brodie’s impassive expression. Three months before the Olympics, Brodie had reinjured his knee, forcing him to retire. The whole world had been watching the eighteen-year-old skiing phenom, so it had been a hell of an adjustment when his career had ended.
Brodie had never planned on college or getting a job, so his whole world—his identity—had transformed overnight. Now, he designed the courses his brothers competed on.
So, yeah, dealing with social media wasn’t on Traci’s agenda right then. He got that.
A group of guys approached the table. “Damn, Fin. Why you gotta do everything to the extreme? You’re not just a shitty boyfriend like the rest of us. Hell, no. You’re the world’s worst.”
Will glanced up at them. “Can you give us a minute?”
With nods, they turned and disappeared into the crowd.
“You know I didn’t do this, right?” Fin looked between his brothers. “I’ve never been with Traci.”
Brodie snorted out a laugh. “Yeah. Believe me, we know.”
All right, enough of this shit. “Hey, listen. I’ve got some news.” He hadn’t wanted to mention it. Not until it was a sure-thing, but he didn’t want his brothers thinking about him as the World’s Worst anything. “Looks like I’m on the short-list for National Adventurer’s ‘Athlete of the Year.’” His manager had a contact at the magazine who’d confirmed Fin’s name was listed along with a rock climber from Nepal, a cave diver from Poland, and two others. Fuck yeah.
“No shit?” Brodie sounded impressed.
Pride surged through him. “Nominees haven’t been announced, so don’t say anything. But Bram’s gonna get some footage up as soon as he can.” He shrugged as if scoring the cover didn’t matter to him.
“Ah, you’ll get it,” Will said. “They’ll want a pretty boy on the cover.”
Frustration rose hard in him, but he tamped it down. He’d long ago learned the more upset he got, the more they ribbed him.
“But just to seal the deal, let’s get some shots of you without a shirt,” Brodie said.
His brothers broke out laughing.
He grinned. “Fuck off. It’s a big deal. If I make it, I’ll be the youngest athlete in the magazine’s history.”
“Hey.” Will turned his attention to Brodie. “What were you saying to Chris and those guys about meeting them on Monday? Thought you had to get back to work?”
“They’re talking about moving,” Brodie said. “San Diego, Seattle, some place where there’s more opportunity. It sucks, right? With all our resources—national parks, lakes, the whole Wild West shit—we should have enough jobs in this town. So I was just kicking around some ideas with them, and I think I got one. It’s big, and it would make use of the ghost town.”
A flash of white-blonde hair caught Fin’s attention, and he half-rose out of his seat before he remembered Callie didn’t look like that anymore.
The second to last time he’d seen her—August, six years ago—she’d worn jean cut-offs, a red polka dot bikini top, and hot pink patent leather Dr. Marten boots. They’d taken their dirt bikes up the Bowie Pass to Skinner’s Falls.
She’d kicked off her shorts, raced to the edge of the cliff, and hurled herself off. He’d jumped right after her, landing in water that even in August was ice cold.
The moment he’d popped up and shook the hair out of his eyes, she’d latched onto him, legs, arms, and mouth. Kissing him like the wild, uninhibited girl she’d been.
His heart seized with a mix of happiness and soul-deep loss.
He had to get out of there. He nudged his brother.
“Hang on.” Will turned his attention back to Brodie. “So you want to turn it into a tourist attraction?”
“Yeah, man.” Brodie seemed excited. “Why not?”
“Because it’s historic.” Will didn’t like change. Discipline required routine, and there wasn’t a man alive who had Will’s brand of discipline. “You want people crawling all over the original buildings of Calamity? You want graffiti on the jail house? The saloon?”
“I want to restore all the old buildings. Let’s bring the saloon back to life, man. Turn it into a restaurant—”
“You’re turning a historic town into a theme park so your friends can have jobs?” Will asked.
“Not just my friends. The whole town will benefit. We’ll have a hotel, a restaurant…Wild West re-enactors with daily shoot-outs.” Brodie smiled. “This is some good shit. Think I’ll stay in town a few weeks, see if I can get it off the ground.”
The memory of Man-Bracelet proposing to Callie hit his solar plexus, and shock radiated through his central nervous system. Fin couldn’t sit through another second of their conversation. “Let me out.” He gave Will a shove.
His brother slid out of the booth, and Fin took off. He checked the time on his phone. Not even ten. Not too late to show up at the Bell house.
“Dude.” A friend made a grab for him as he strode past.
Fin kept going, but the guy followed. “Traci Allen’s hot, man, but looks like you messed with the wrong woman.”
“I didn’t mess with her. She’s just a friend.”
Will pushed between them. His brothers were big, fit guys, but Will was the biggest. Pure muscle, he stood a good two inches over Fin’s six-two frame. With the combination of size and intensity, people gave him wide berth. Fin’s friend backed off.
By the time he’d made it to the door Fin had heard World’s Worst Boyfriend half a dozen times. He’d have to shut it down. Later.
Bursting out the door, he sucked in the cool mountain air. He took off at a jog for Will’s truck.
“Hey.” Brodie grabbed his shoulder, hauling him back. “Where you going?”
“Got something to do.”
Will came up on his other side. “Well, hang on. We’ll head home with you.”
“Not going home.” He didn’t need their crap, so he swung around in the opposite direction. He’d walk to Callie’s.
“Dude, what’re you doing?” From his expression, though, Brodie had already figured it out.
So he just copped to it. “Going to Callie’s.”
“You sure you want to do that?” Will asked.
Ignoring them, Fin stepped off the curb. He couldn’t talk to her at the wedding tomorrow, and she’d likely leave the morning after, so his only chance was now. He dashed across the street, hopping the curb on the other side and heading around the town green. In the gazebo, a jazz band played. Families, couples, and groups of friends sat on lawn chairs, some with picnic baskets. A man threw a Frisbee for his dog, and a mother and daughter argued under a tree.
Brodie kept up with him. “You realize she’s with her boyfriend, right? Who might be her fiancé by now.”
Fin swerved around a cluster of teens blocking the sidewalk.
“Hang on a sec.” Will grabbed his arm. “Just listen.”
Rage boiled over. “I did that, remember? You and Dad and Coach. I listened to all of you. And look what it got me.”
“It got you a life,” Will said. “A pretty cool one.”
“Look, man, you know I respect you, and in any other situation I would hear you out. But when it comes to me and Callie? You don’t know shit. All your advice—that it was just some high school crush, that I’ll forget about her? That I should go and have some fun? Well, guess what? I didn’t forget her, and I’m not having fun. You want to know why?” He stepped into Will’s space. “Because I loved her. And I lost the only woman I’m ever going to love because of you guys.” He turned away and kept walking. “So, no offense, but I’m done listening to you.”
Will kept up with him. “Okay, so you show up at her door, and she’s standing there with her boyfriend. Then what?”
“Then we have it out. Like we should have done years ago.”
“In front of her fiancé?”
“She’s not marrying him.” And right then the dark shroud lifted, because he knew without a doubt Callie would never marry Man-Bracelet.
“You’re right,” Brodie said. “The Callie you grew up with would never marry that guy. But she’s changed. You gotta see that, man. Unless you want to move to New York and wear a suit and work in a cubicle, you have to face it. You guys have grown apart.”
Hitting a stoplight, Fin shoved his hands in his pockets, the June air chilly on his bare arms. He tipped his head back to take in a sky full of blazing stars. “You shouldn’t have interfered. I don’t know what your problem was with her anyway.”
“Never had a problem with her,” Will said. “Callie’s great. It was about you. You were too young to be so into her.”
“You were going to move to New York.” Brodie gave him a look that said, What kind of life would that’ve been for you?
After Brodie tore his ACL in a skiing accident when he was nine, their mom moved the three youngest sons—Brodie, Gray, and Fin—to New York. She’d said she’d wanted the best care for Brodie, but everyone knew she hated Calamity.
If she’d thought she couldn’t manage them in the mountains, though, she’d had an even harder time in Manhattan. They hadn’t lasted a year before she’d shipped them back home to their dad.
But Fin had only been six. He didn’t have the bad memories of city life his brothers had.
Nor had he cared. He’d just wanted to be with Callie.
“I’ll tell you the truth, man.” Will leaned in, shutting out the people around them. “You scare the shit out of me. Since she left, it’s like you’ve got a death wish. You’re lost without her, and I wish you’d just let her go and get your life on track.”
Rage pumped through him. “This is my track. I’m good enough at what I do that National Adventurer wants me on their cover.” Why was he standing there talking about the same old bullshit? Each minute that passed drew Callie closer to leaving town again.
Fin struck off across the intersection, but Will kept right up with him. “Would you just think about it first before you go over there and make a scene? It’s ten at night. Are you going to storm into her bedroom while she’s with her boyfriend?”
Right in the middle of the street, Fin lost it. That image—Jesus—of Callie in bed with another guy. No. “I don’t care what you have to say, okay? I let you keep me from her last time. It’s not going to happen this time.”
The red glow from the traffic light tinted their skin, as Brodie quietly held his gaze. “No one kept you from her. You made the decision to go with Dad and Will on your own.”
He knew that, and it drove him crazy. To this day, he’d wake up in the middle of the night jolted by the force of his colossally stupid decision. The twist of regret made him want to crawl out of his skin. There was no escape from the decision he’d made.
A car honked, and the trio continued to the other side of the street.
To be clear, Fin didn’t regret his decision. He’d made the right one, but he should have handled it differently. And that’s what I need to tell her. “I think we all know how much I let you influence me, but yeah, okay. I own what I did. It was the world’s shittiest thing—”
Laughter exploded beside him, and some guy grabbed his arm and raised it. “You hear that? Fin Bowie just admitted he’s the World’s Shittiest Boyfriend.”
People crowded around them. “Is that him?” someone said.
“Are you serious? That’s the actual World’s Worst Boyfriend?”
“That’s hilarious.”
Fin swung around, hands curled into fists. He felt the press of his brothers, the tension in their bodies. “Jesus Christ, I didn’t do anything.”
Lights from camera phones went off.
“Cool it,” Brodie said in a low voice.
Christ, if everyone knew about the meme that meant Callie did, too. The idea of her seeing thousands of women calling him exactly what she must’ve thought about him ratcheted up his anger.
He didn’t give a rat’s ass what strangers thought of him, but Callie? He needed to explain—fuck, he had to get to her. But the crowd boxed him in at the same moment someone came up from behind and shoved a paper Burger King crown on his head.
“World’s Worst Boyfriend,” the guy shouted.
“Quick, get a picture.”
Slapping the hat off, Fin charged through the crowd, his shoulder knocking into someone. He did not need this shit right now, but then, out of nowhere, the guy he’d bumped into said, “Fucker,” right before coldcocking him. Fin’s neck snapped back, the pain exploding in his cheek.
What the hell? With bodies pushing and shoving around him, Fin swung, his fist connecting with a meaty gut, and then it became a blur of punches and grunts. His brothers pushed into the mêlée, shoving the strangers aside. Just as they reached Fin, bike cops arrived at the scene. A moment later a cruiser’s siren tapped out three beats.
The crowd parted, as rubber-soled shoes scurried around them. One of the guys picked himself up off the ground and pointed at Fin. “Dude knocked me down.”
Strong hands got hold of Fin’s biceps, and his arms were jerked behind his back.
“Hang on,” Will said. “He didn’t start this.”
Cold metal cuffs snapped around his wrists. As the cops led him to the cruiser, Fin caught the concerned looks on his brothers’ faces.
Dammit. Ryder’s wedding was tomorrow.