Always the One (Always and Forever 1)
Page 70
Calling me beautiful was not okay, that I can agree with. But how does that justify a broken nose? What the hell am I missing?
“Did I miss the old and wise gene in the family? Seriously, why are you and Kings the best at giving me advice?” He’s perched on the arm of the couch next to me.
“Don’t feel bad, you’ll get smart one day, you need to eat your veggies, like I always told you.” I pinch the arm he has positioned around my shoulder, causing him to flinch and jump to his feet. “Ouch, you little turd.” My dad rubs at the spot, attempting to soothe the ache.
“Do you want some lunch?”
“I’m exhausted from the drive and my emotions are all jacked. Probably not. Can I stay in the guesthouse tonight? I need to get some sleep before I head out tomorrow.” I stand and make my way to the back door that leads to the guesthouse. When we moved him in, I left a few outfits and necessities so I wouldn’t be without what I needed in case I decided to stay and avoid the three-hour drive back to Seattle. We tried convincing him that moving to the city would be better, but he hates the city, and when I say hate I mean hate with a capital H.
“Of course, go take a nap, and I’ll take you to dinner tonight. How’s that sound? A date with your old man?” I laugh when he flexes
his arm at me. Kingston and my dad used to be workout buddies back in Utah, and to the looks of it, my dad has been keeping up with it on his own. This brings me back to my thought from earlier—I need to come see my dad more often. I mean he moved here to be close to Kingston and me and he’s out here all alone. No kids and no wife, I wonder if he’ll ever date again… I decide quickly to save that conversation for another rainy day.
“Okay, Rocky, sounds like a plan,” I mock him and head to the guesthouse.
Approaching the cottage-styled, two-bedroom guesthouse, I use the extra key my dad gave me and let myself in. Immediately, I go to the windows that take up most of the wall space in each room and open them. No one has stayed here in awhile so the dust and musty smell needs to be ventilated.
Everything is white—the couches, the cupboards, the curtains. The light breeze from the open windows cause the sheer curtains to ripple gently, creating a calm mood to settle over my tense self. The accent furniture is dark wood and plush pink pillows are neatly placed on the sectional, giving the guesthouse a homely feeling. I walk the short distance down the hallway to the master suite and take in the room.
Gosh, I missed this beautiful place.
The sliding glass doors are adjacent to the bed, where the view hits the open field of my dad’s property. There are beautiful Catalpa trees with their fallen heart-shaped leaves surrounding the ground below it. With winter being here, the white flowers that usually sprout from the branches during summer have died. The grass is covered in a light smatter of snow from the occasional snowfall they had this year.
The bed is covered in a plush white comforter and it’s screaming my name, I need a damn nap. This is the first real deep breath I’ve taken today, and all I want to do is sleep and prepare to face all the troubles that await tomorrow.
Tomorrow.
My mind is so loud; the thoughts running rampant like a circus easily drag me into a deep slumber.
“Wake up, beautiful.” The voice in my dreams is calling to me in reality, and I slowly come to. My eyes squint at the setting sun that’s coming through the glass doors, reflecting on the white walls. I must have only slept a few short, extremely needed, hours. I see the most beautiful blue eyes looking into mine. His smell fills my lungs when I breathe in, helping me wake even more. He’s sitting on the bed next to me, his sunglasses pushing his longer hair out of his face. Wearing my favorite leather jacket and jeans, the same ones he wore on our first date, he runs his hands softly across my warm cheek. Wow, he looks like a dream.
“Hey,” I greet him, still unsure of what I’m feeling.
“Hey.” He waits a minute, letting me adjust from slumber to coherency.
“I’m sorry, baby, can we please talk about it?” he pleads softly.
“Do I have a choice? You kinda came out here despite me telling you I needed some space,” I remind him, my voice stern. I sit up and place a pillow on my lap.
“I know, but we don’t fight. Ever. This isn’t who we are.”
“Actually, we had a beautiful friendship, Trey. A perfect one, and ever since we became a couple we find ourselves going through the cycle. Happy to fighting. Fighting to happy. You push your insecurities on me and totally disregard my wants. This is becoming a habit and I can’t stand bad habits.” I’m being icy, my cold shoulder game strong. But I’m not okay with this—at all.
“I deserve that. I deserve worse, if I’m being honest.” I about choke on a ridiculous chuckle. He really wants to talk about honesty?
“Are you? You know, being honest?”
“Same goes to you,” he fires back, his eyes narrowing on me.
“You didn’t tell me you went to see him and then you used our sex as a weapon—to keep me from getting mad. You brought something so vile to our most intimate act.” I shake my head, dropping it in my hands. I feel so dang defenseless, I feel like I’m losing the ground under me.
“And you didn’t tell me he hit on you.”
Touché. I take it Evan told him. Because only Evan and I know about that little exchange.
I lift my head from my hands. “Because—and listen close, Trey, I’m only gonna say this once—it was nothing to me.” I span out my sentence, dragging it out.
“It was something to me,” he retorts on a hasty snap.