Изменить стиль страницы

Fifteen uncomfortable minutes pass by before Ryland looks at Chrissy. “Ready?” he asks her. What? Are they on some date that I have no idea about?

“Yeah, I should probably get home,” she tells everyone. “Congratulations, again.”

She glances at Sam, who’s only focus is Adelaide in her arms and then her dejected eyes turn to me. “See you later, Dex,” she says with a soft voice. A wave of guilt flows through me like a freight train. Sam’s eyes perk up, maybe sensing the tension between us and then she’s back to concentrating on Adelaide.

Sadie decides to hitch a ride with them, so she urgently packs up her stuff, says goodbye and leaves with the two of them. Satisfaction that they won’t be alone now to do anything inappropriate brings relief to me.

An hour later, I leave with the Hamiltons. Mr. Hamilton insists on buying me dinner and then I drop them back at Grant and Jessa’s while Sam stays planted in the front seat of my truck, informing them she’s staying at my house until Jessa is discharged. After a warning look from her dad and a smile from her mother, we pull away from the curb, leaving them at the Bishops’ house.

Sam leans over to me and rests her hand on my thigh as I concentrate on the road ahead of me. Placing my hand down, I link mine with hers. I wish that excited tingling sensation occurred with our touch, but nothing happens. We drive the short distance between the two houses. I grab Sam’s bag from the bed of the truck once we park in the driveway behind Brady’s Camaro. Rob’s in the garage working on Chrissy’s car like usual when walk toward the back door.

“Hi, Rob.” Sam flips him off, and he laughs. With the bad breakup between Jess and Rob, and Sam being Jessa’s sister, their relationship—well there isn’t one.

“Sam.” He nods and then eyes me; question marks could be burned into his eyeballs as to why Sam is with me.

“Is that your piece of shit?” she asks, and he cocks an eyebrow at me.

“No,” he remarks, not divulging anything further.

“Girlfriend’s?” she continues to question.

“Maybe,” he shrugs, and I squint my eyes at him, but he laughs it off. “I’m just waiting for someone to open their eyes.” I release a huff of breath at his comment, making Sam turn to me.

“Well … fuck off,” she says to him and heads for the door. Rob shakes his head at me before grabbing a rag and wiping his hands. Ignoring him, I follow Sam’s path because the guilt of my actions are only growing more intense with Rob.

Sadie is stirring a pot of sauce that’s on the stove when we walk in the house, and Brady’s typing away on his computer. They both glance over and Sadie’s spoon stops circling and Brady’s fingers hover over the keyboard before they look at one another. “Hi, Brady,” Sam says, walking over and bending to wrap her arms around his shoulders.

“Hi ya, Sam,” he replies and hugs her back while eyeing me over her shoulder.

“Are you guys hungry?” Sadie turns and concentrates on the spoon, facing away from us while asking the question.

“No, we had dinner with my parents,” Sam says. “Now I want my dessert.” She giggles, but no one says anything or chimes in. “Man, what has happened to all of you?”

“Sorry. I’m tired.” Sadie talks first.

“Long day,” Brady adds.

“Let’s go,” Sam poises her head to the hallway and begins walking to the front of the house. I hear the back screen door open and slam shut when we get to the staircase. I don’t have to assume who just entered or the talk of the gossip in the kitchen.

We’re about to reach the top of the stairs when Chrissy’s bedroom door opens. She emerges and then stops, standing still outside her door. She’s dressed in her tight yoga pants with a tank top showing the lines of her curves and breasts for everyone to admire. Her hair is pinned to the top of her head in a messy ponytail. I love it when she’s dressed down, unwinding from the day. It only makes me want to yank her toward me and wrap my arms around her body.

“Hi, Chrissy.” Sam’s head inches back from the surprise of seeing her.

“Hi … Sam,” Chrissy stutters, just as taken aback as Sam. “Dex.” She says my name, but her eyes remain anywhere but on me.

All three of us stand there in silence until Chrissy speaks. “Well,” she inhales a deep breath, “have a good night,” she finishes, and walks past us. Her shoulder brushes along mine and I instinctively close my eyes from our touch.

Sam turns around to me and shrugs her shoulders, continuing her goal toward my bedroom. The guilt starts inside me again, churning over and over. Mindlessly, I enter my room and Sam’s already splayed across my bed within one second of us entering. “You promised,” she winks, and I plaster myself against my closed bedroom door, as though my hands are glued to it.

Fuck this, I think to myself. Chrissy left me back at that fair four years ago. She does everything to stay away from me and here, on my bed, is a girl who tells me. A girl not afraid to show me what she wants. Walking toward Sam, a slow smile forms on her lips, figuring she’s getting what she’s been waiting for. Her hands reach for the hem of her shirt, inching it up her body. I remind myself, this is the guy I am. A one night at a time with no commitment guy. But if that’s true, then how come every night it’s Chrissy that occupies my dreams? Her that I want on my bed, begging me to take her.

Can't Let Go _46.jpg

Can't Let Go _47.jpg

THE SMELL OF her expensive perfume overtakes my nostrils as soon as I leave the confines of my bedroom. She’s gorgeous, even after a plane ride and a day at the hospital. No wonder Dex likes her so much. The awkwardness encompasses the entire second floor so I flee as soon as I spot an opening. It’s clear Sam has no idea who I am, but that’s okay. What was Dex to say?

The problem is my insides are slowly crumbling as I push the hardened shell of an exterior to keep others from realizing how much seeing him with someone else affects me, especially after last night. Maybe he doesn’t remember, maybe he was that drunk and thought I was someone else. Maybe even her.

Walking past Sadie and Brady in the kitchen, I give a wave over my shoulder when they each call out to me. Heading right to Rob, I plop down on the chair beside my car, open his cooler, and grab a beer. Twisting the cap and tossing it in the trashcan, I allow the entire bottle of cool liquid to flow down my throat and hopefully calm my sadness.

“Whoa there,” he comments, sliding out from under my piece of shit car.

“I don’t have work tomorrow,” I mention, as though that’s a reason to get hammered. When I first got home, I figured I’d lie around and maybe watch a movie. How fast things changed.

“Do you need to go out?” he asks and leans against the edge of the garage, crossing his arms against his chest.

“Yeah, but I really don’t want to enter that house again to change.” I glance down at my very casual outfit.

“Let’s go. Just give me a second to grab my keys.” He jogs over to the screen door and enters the house. With his departure, I ponder if I should go or not. Dex’s clear jealously of my friendship with Rob is evident with the mere casualness of his name from my lips. Then visions of Dex slamming Sam against his bedroom door overtake and I can give a shit what he thinks.

Not a second later, Sadie emerges. “Chrissy?” she questions, and I shake my head because if I talk to her about this, I’ll break.

“I’m going out with Rob for a bit,” I tell her, and her hand rests on my arm, igniting the start of a stumbled breath.

“Stay, we can talk,” she says, concern laced in her eyes.

“I appreciate it, Sadie, but I just can’t be here.” I don’t move my arm, and she doesn’t remove her hand.