A few minutes later, he sent:Please answer me so I at least know you’re okay.
And then:I really fucked this up. I’m sorry.
And the last message, the one that has me sucking in a quick breath says,The truth is that I can’t stop thinking about you. I would really love to see you again. Can I please take you out? We can go anywhere or do whatever you want. I just really want to see you again.
My chest constricts at his words, making me feel like I’m on the verge of a panic attack, because god do I want to say yes. With my passed-out father downstairs and his drunk, pervy friend, all I can think about is how badly I want to go out and for one fucking night forget how lousy my life is. It’s a dangerous game, though, one that could easily end with me being broken-hearted and more depressed than ever. I’m still not sure what to do, but it makes me feel like shit to know that he’s worrying about this.
I’m fine, Valeri. I’m sorry I freaked out.
His response is immediate, and I love that he doesn’t make me wait.I shouldn’t have ambushed you outside your work. Not my smoothest moment.
No, it was very sweet of you. I shouldn’t have run off like an idiot.
You’re not an idiot. Can we try this again? Maybe breakfast after your shift tomorrow?
I think about it and decide that breakfast is the most harmless option. My dad won’t be awake, and I can always say I had to work late and missed the bus if he does actually wake up and notice I’m not back at my usual time.
A huge smile spreads across my face while I type outI’d love that.
Get some sleep, Evie. I’ll be there to get you tomorrow morning. ;)
I try not to read too much into that winky face. I’ve never texted a guy, and I’ve sure as hell never flirted before. I’m in so far over my head that it’s not even funny. There’s going to be no hiding how damn awkward I am around him. Pushing that worry aside, I do what I do best and stand up so I can go escape into sleep. I press my ear against the door and wait several minutes until I’m sure Lyle isn’t waiting in the hallway for me. Peeking out, as soon as I see it’s clear, I bolt into my room and lock my door. I put my phone on the nightstand to charge, slip out of my coveralls, take off my glasses, and then burrow under the blankets. Everything else will just have to wait while I slip into the familiar blackness and disappear.
When I wake eight hours later, the first thing I do is grab my glasses and check my phone. There aren’t any new messages, and the disappointment is quick and sharp, and it scares the hell out of me. I just met him, and I barely know him. I refuse to go crazy over the gorgeous man who’s showing me attention. My life is pathetic enough. I’m not going to add to it by becoming super needy and dependent.
My growling stomach reminds me that it’s been way too long since I’ve eaten. After making sure Lyle is gone, I make a quick stop at the bathroom and then head downstairs to fix something to eat. My dad is sprawled out in his recliner with a beer in one hand and the remote in the other. I really hate that I share DNA with this man. Ignoring him, I walk into the kitchen and start gathering everything I need to make a sandwich.
“Make me one too,” he hollers out, still flipping through the channels.
I bite back my smartass comment and instead grab a second plate. When I hand it to him, he takes it without so much as a thank you, never taking his eyes off the action movie he’s watching. When I don’t move, he gives me an annoyed look.
“What?”
“Lyle forced his way into my bedroom,” I tell him.
“I’m sure you’re exaggerating,” he mutters, turning his eyes back to the TV.
“He said that you two have an arrangement, that you promised me to him. What the hell did you tell him, Dad?”
“Don’t you use that tone with me,” he growls, setting his sandwich down so he can point his finger at me. I know I’m treading on dangerous ground, but I’m not some piece of fucking cattle that he can sell off to the highest bidder.
“What did he mean?” I ask again, working to keep my tone relaxed.
“He likes you.” He gives a shrug and relaxes back into the chair. “It’s not like anyone else is showing any interest, and let’s face it, Evie, a girl like you isn’t going to have boys knocking down the door. Lyle’s a good choice for you, and he promised me he won’t ever take you from me. He lives so close that you can still come and take care of things over here after work.”
It takes me several seconds before I can speak, and when I do, I can hear the quiver in my voice. It has nothing to do with fear and everything to do with the rage that’s boiling right beneath the surface.
“So you and Lyle came up with this plan for my future, a plan where I’ll be married to your best friend, who I think is disgusting by the way, and then I can take care of him and you and go to work? That’s the future you see for me?”
His eyes harden when they meet mine. “What the fuck else are you going to do?”
“I could meet someone,” I say before I can think better of it. “I could fall in love and marry and get the hell out of this dump.”
In a second, he’s up, spilling the plate on the floor and giving me a sharp smack to the face that barely misses breaking my glasses before fisting my hair and holding me still. Tears prick my eyes, but I refuse to let them fall.
“Have you met someone?”
“No,” I whisper.
