“Why? How?” I need as much knowledge as I can get in order to figure out what exactly Chrissy’s running from. She’s always been able to handle her dad. That one time when he lost the apartment, she somehow scrambled to help him find another. Or the time he sold all the furniture and she babysat for a month before having a bed to sleep on again. If she’d stop being so damn stubborn and allow me to get her through this.
“He’s started to become desperate and when people become desperate—” My dad leaves it open because he knows I understand.
“They cheat,” I finish in a soft voice, because the chances of me fixing this are slim with this knowledge. I swallow the deepest gulp imagining what could have happened to her. Cheating is just beyond the realm of manageable situations because the people you cheat don’t second-guess going after your important possessions, which would be Chrissy.
“Yeah. He’s been caught at five places all together. Last one was Nico’s. You know Nico?” He cocks his head to the side. The name alone boils my blood with visions of his hands on her that night.
“I remember him from a few years back. Young punk.”
“Young punk? Be careful, you’ve been called the same thing. That’s about all I know, but hearing she’s turning up after disappearing for four years, is odd. She called you?” he asks, cocking his head to the side. Everything in me wants to lie, to sweep her away and we both disappear forever.
“No, Hank did. She was down at Weddle’s,” I inform him, remembering my dad is a trusted man, and he breathes a long deep breath.
“That’s not like her,” he comments.
“I know. The fact she’s trying to get money by gambling tells me something is majorly wrong. Can you find out?”
“I’ll try. Let me make some phone calls.” He stands up and makes his way toward the door. “Just relax, Edge.” He places his hand on my shoulder.
“What’s that look for?” I scrunch my eyebrows, curious to his instant easiness.
“You and Chrissy, you guys have always—”
“What?” I ask.
“I don’t know, maybe there are feelings there.” He shrugs his shoulders and opens the door from his office. I wonder if I’m being that obvious that my dad can peek into my heart and see that soft spot for Chrissy.
“Yeah, she’s like my sister or best friend,” I lie. “Not to mention, you kind of soured me from love.” I smirk back, and he pushes me forward a little bit.
“Just because marriage isn’t for me, doesn’t mean it’s not for a lot of people.” Then he leans in to me. “And a lot of people marry their best friends,” he whispers.
I mimic his motions by leaning in. “And a lot of people divorce their best friends,” I whisper back, and he laughs knowing I won that round. He and my mom were best friends, who married and then divorced. The last thing I can handle is losing Chrissy all together from my life. Now that she’s come back, I won’t risk it with some damn relationship that would never last.
“I’ll give you that one,” he tells me, and then focuses out to the floor. “So, boys, how is business tonight?” he asks all the younger guys with charts in front of them and cups of energy drinks in their hands. All of the young and impressionable eyes look up to my dad as some sort of fucked up mentor. “Thanks for taking over tonight,” he comments.
“You’re welcome.” I sit down in the recliner, and some new kid I don’t even know hands me the tablet with the spreads on it.
“Here you go, Edge,” he says, and I narrow my eyes.
“Call me, Dex,” I correct him, and he nods before going back to his spot in front of television number two.
BY THE TIME my dad returns to Ridgewood, my mind is already half out the door. I hate to admit it, but I probably made him no money tonight. Chrissy’s situation with her dad invaded through my thoughts. Trying to dissect how to alleviate the problem for her. The desperate demand on myself to guarantee she lives a happy life with someone who really loves her. Since I can’t give her what she deserves, I attempt to make it come true for her.
When I return home and stroll through the kitchen, the glow of the television is the first thing I notice. Figuring Sadie and Brady are in there watching a movie, I creep quietly down the hall, hoping they don’t stop me.
“Dex,” Chrissy calls out and, as much I hate to admit it, a small smile forms on my lips because she’s up. When I pass the archway, Chrissy is beginning to sit up on the couch. She’s still dressed in her skirt and shirt from earlier, and I overhear Andy Cohen from Bravo on the television along with a few women screaming. Living with Sadie and Jessa allowed me to have the useless knowledge of the Bravo network.
“Hey,” I say, taking the seat next to her. Somehow thinking she’ll smell the guilt off of me, I stay as far down on the couch as possible.
“Hi.” Her soft voice awakens my body like it did when I was fourteen. Her shyness is something that’s consistently turned me on.
“How was tonight?” I ask, upset that I had to leave her somewhere where she knows no one.
“It was good. Sadie and I went over to Jessa’s and helped her wash and fold some of the baby clothes. We came back here, but I just can’t sleep.” She shrugs her shoulders and I’m happy Sadie is being so nice. If Chrissy needs anything, it’s friends.
“Jessa whining?” I ask, raising my eyebrow in question.
“She’s eight and a half months pregnant, she deserves to be able to, but she didn’t at all. They’re a really happy couple.” She smiles, but it lacks something. Maybe there’s a twinge of envy in them.
“Poor Grant,” I comment, and she tosses a pillow at me.
“I hope when your wife is pregnant, you’re a lot nicer and accommodating.” She shakes her head back and forth in disgust.
“No wife and definitely no kid,” I say, and her lips turn to a frown.
“That’s upsetting, Dex, you should want to share your life with someone.” She scoots closer, and my eyes veer to her thighs like they did outside earlier. The thought of pushing them apart and wrapping them around me comes to mind.
“Love is an unreal emotion. Not to mention, it’s impossible for someone to stay faithful to one person,” I continue, my thoughts of love warped. I know they suck and are more or less excuses. My friends are examples of love that can conquer, don’t get me wrong, but for me, it’s just not an option. I like my life, and I’m not ready to give it up.
“Oh, Dex. Who hurt you so bad?” she asks and then turns around to face forward.
I don’t answer, and she doesn’t delve into my psyche further. We watch television and, at points, I think I should get up and leave. But then her head starts to bob and eventually it lands on my shoulder. Positioning her under my arm, I smell the scent of my shampoo on her golden-blonde hair and, for the first time, an image of her always next to me warms me a little too much.
FOOTSTEPS POUNDING DOWN the stairs wake me up, and I feel the weight of a heavy arm laying on my shoulders. Squinting up, I discover my body is curled up into Dex’s. My legs scrunched up into his side with both his arms encasing me in his own. With the safest feeling I’ve ever come close to, I’m reluctant to leave the nest of Dex. That is until a shadow appears in the doorway.
My eyes veer toward it, and those blue-glass eyes lock on mine. “Hi,” he says. “Friends, huh?” He cockily quirks his eyebrows at me before walking down the hall.
Slowly and quietly, I inch away from Dex’s strong body. Placing his arm back down so it rests on his leg. I tiptoe out of the room, resembling the pink panther as I walk up the stairs, stopping at every creak, hoping it doesn’t wake him.