I put my phone face down on my bed with a chuckle at our group chat antics. I know I shouldn’t goad her on especially since she somehow already heard about last night even though she’s all the way in California.
It makes me wonder who the hell her sources are, and better yet, why they’re snitching on me.
They didn’t even see what happened after the bar.
I groan, trying to forget while I roll out of bed and bring myself downstairs to get some coffee. The morning sun is shining, but when I open the back door while my coffee brews, I feelhow cool it is and I decide to take the hot drink out on my back patio.
I love mornings like this. Quiet, the slight chill in the coastal breeze hitting my skin while fall approaches, taking away the hot summer days. Closing my eyes I take a deep breath, filling my lungs with the air that feels so clean. It’s the complete opposite of how I felt every day growing up.
There’s a sense of peace that surrounds me when I just take a moment to appreciate where I am and that I never have to go back. My mind may always be partly stuck there, forever shaped by the trauma I endured. But physically I never have to go through that again.
The sound of a door sliding open catches my attention, and I hear Bruno stepping in the dew covered grass. I freeze, as if any little movement I make Wes will hear. My moment of peace is no longer because I don’t want Wes to know I’m out here.
Last night comes back to me full force. Everything he said, the dancing,the kiss.I drop my head back against the chair and there’s a soft thud that has me gasping, throwing my hand over my mouth to cover the small sound.
I think I’m safe when nothing happens, just the sound of Bruno walking around in the grass. Maybe Wes isn’t out there with him.
I move my head forward again, about to bring my mug up to my lips for a sip when I see him standing at the fence; he’s so tall he’s able to easily rest his arms on top of it, looking at me. I jump, trying my hardest not to spill any of my coffee.
“What is wrongwith you?” I snap.
“I’m just in my yard, is that a crime?”
I grind my teeth wanting to retort, but also not sure if I should goad him anymore because I know what will happen.
“I’m about to go to Jameson’s before they come home tomorrow. Do you want to come with me?” Wes offers, and I can’t hide the surprised look on my face.
“Why?” I can’t help but ask.
He shrugs. “Up to you.”
“That doesn’t answer the question.”
He’s already walking away, and I have to admit I’m getting pretty tired of him doing that. Maybe that’s why I storm inside, pull some clothes on, and end up agreeing to go with him.
CHAPTER 22
Wes
Last night wasthe same as every other in regard to me not being able to sleep. What wasn’t the same was that I could still feel Bailey’s lips against mine. I had to consistently fight to not go over there. Instead, I stayed put and tried to will myself to sleep.
Of course it didn’t happen, my leg pain flared as it does and as always, it brought me right back to that day. The explosions, the burning sensation, the screams, and the searing pain. At one point I put my noise canceling headphones on with music loud enough to try and drown out the noise in my head.
Nights like that would usually have me driving until the sun comes up. But I wasn’t going anywhere–not with the slim chance Bailey might show up. However, lying in bed alone with nothing but my thoughts was brutal. The pain radiating through me dragged me to that dark place in my mind. The one where I wished my life was taken with theirs. Suddenly. Quickly. No longer having to deal with the pain I live with each and every day.
There’s pressure on my uninjured leg, and I open my eyes to see Bruno resting his head on me, and I’m brought back to thepresent. Letting out a sigh I do everything I can to try and fall asleep once again.
When I crack my eyes open, I look around, and I think I actually managed a couple of hours eventually. My leg is stiff after not moving for a few hours, but thankfully, it’s not as painful as it was last night. I limp slightly as Bruno and I go downstairs to let him out. I lean against the door frame enjoying the fresh air against the bare skin of my chest.
When I hear a noise from next door, I step over to the fence and see Bailey sitting curled up in one of her chairs, holding a mug between her hands. I just look at her, there’s a furrow in her brow. Her long wavy hair is down, a little messy like she hasn’t touched it since she rolled out of bed, and has a slight purse to her lips. She looks like she’s thinking too hard with her eyebrows pinched together. The natural beauty she has that I don’t even think she notices.
I’ve always noticed.
She might think I don’t like her, but I don’t really like anyone. I don’tdislike her. We’ve had our disagreements over the years that we’ve lived next to each other, but she’s always intrigued me.
Even that first night together I knew there was more to her than she seems to let on, and right now the way she’s staring out into her yard has me wondering what that could be.
She raises her mug to her lips, but then sees me, and jumps.
