“Don’t mind if I do.” He twists the bottle open and I really hope he doesn’t lecture me today. I’m not in the mood for it. I swear him and my mom have phone conversations about me.
He sits down on the garage floor and stares up at me. “So, I have a question for you.” I glance through the corner of my eye and suck in a deep breath.
“What?” I sigh and sit up straighter in the chair.
“Will you be a groomsman?” He smiles and I do to. Although marriage might not be in the cards for me, it suits Brady. He and Sadie had that ever after thing lined up a month after meeting.
“Really going through with it? The whole forever until death thing,” I razz him and he chuckles. I’m envious of the guy, no qualms whatsoever. He’s a different guy than me though, that’s for sure.
“Yep. I am.”
“Sadie okay with it?”
“Yeah, she’s fine with it. There’s only one thing.” His lips straighten and I know the favor before it leaves his mouth. “Grant is my best man.”
I scratch my head, knowing I need to make amends with Grant and Jessa eventually, but the thought of doing so is as welcoming as an electric chair. “I’ll go over there this week.” Brady’s done way too much for me not to reciprocate.
“Thanks. I really appreciate it.” He stands up, stretching his legs. “It’s about time we get it all done with anyway, and my wedding is the perfect occasion.” He laughs and I don’t.
“You do know it’s the event of the year. I mean people can’t stop waiting by their mailboxes for the invitation,” I joke, because Sadie has gone overboard on this wedding planning. When I lived over there, I swear she was on the phone everyday with someone about a mundane detail.
“She just wants it perfect.” Brady excuses his fiancée’s bridezilla mannerisms.
“Yeah, I know.” I stand up, stepping toward him. “Thank you, I’m honored you asked.” He nods and smiles.
“Sadie had so many girls, I had to fill in.” A small smirk crosses his lips and we both know neither one of us are going to be sappy about this shit. He asked and I accepted. The end.
“I’ll take care of it.” I inhale a deep breath, running my hand over my face. “I may bring Sadie with me.”
His eyes light up. “That’s a good idea, actually. Let me know when you—”
I wave him off. “No, I got this,” I assure him and he nods.
“Okay, well now you’ll be added to the email list. Prepare yourself, you get info daily.” He shrugs his shoulders because he has no control of Sadie’s actions.
Never wanting to give him too hard of a time with his fiancée, I shout down the driveway. “I’ll welcome them.”
He lifts his arm up and waves at me while continuing to jog down the driveway.
I watch Brady disappear into his house, and Paige exits ours. Not allowing her out of my sight again, I steadily stride toward her, and her steps quicken to her car. As her hand reaches for the handle, I step in front blocking her. She crosses her arms over her chest and stares out to the street. “Truce?” I offer and she huffs.
She gives me her attention and her eyes pin me to the car. “Rob, I’m not into playing games.”
I hold my hands up. “Me either. Please come tonight, I’d love to show you what my racing is all about.” I shoot a cheesy smile her way and she weakens slightly.
Biting her lip to keep from smiling, I laugh. “Come on.” I pout my lip out and she rolls her eyes.
“Fine.” She pokes me in the chest. “This is your last chance Rob, got it?” she pokes again and before I can grab her finger she yanks it back.
“Be ready at six.” She arches her eyebrows at me. “Please.”
“I guess you’ll find out at six.” She motions with her finger to step aside and I don’t want to push my luck.
She backs her car out down the driveway, and I stand there watching her taillights until the sleek black car whirls around the corner.
I LEAVE THE safety of the shower, wrap a towel around me, and rub my arm against the cloudy mirror. Giving myself a hard examination through the small rounded space, I dig for some reason that I agreed to go with him tonight. Is it how curious I am to the demon he’s fighting, or his flirtatious acts toward me? Whatever the odd sensations he’s drawing out from me, I can’t tell him to fuck off and never speak to him again. Even when he’s given me more than one reason in the past weeks. I know he’s only into me for a fun night or two and maybe that’s exactly what I need. Someone to fuck me so hard, my own problems fade away even if for only a night. But, I’m attached, invested into what the hell haunts him every night.
Last night after I went to bed, I heard his gut-wrenching scream, and I shot up in bed. Staring at the shared wall, I contemplated comforting him, or ignoring him. Not wanting to overstep any boundary, I stayed in my room. I pressed my ear up to the wall, my heart weighed heavy from his small whimpers. What is this boy, who appears to have it all together, fighting? The cocky mouth, arrogant walk, and hot as hell guy is tortured from something. I have to figure it out; he has all these friends and they are blind to his deep layers underneath his facade. Taking a deep breath, I tighten my towel across my body. Should have gone into counseling instead of business.
I open the door and startle back. “What’s up, hot stuff?” Rob slinks in the doorway and I back up until the doorframe presses at my back. He’s got his work pants on, barely hanging on his hips. The waistband of his boxers peek out, and his smooth chest is bare. He clearly doesn’t manscape by the patch of dark chest hair that travels down his stomach. My hand moves up into my hairline, my fingers slowly graze down my neck as I commit to memory every crevice of muscles. “Did you need something?” His voice alarms me and I step back from the small confines.
“No.” It’s low and I wouldn’t even be sure he heard me except for the chuckle as I flee to my room.
I shut my door and rest my back against it, sliding down until my butt thumps on the floor. With my knees folded up to my chest, all those flirting moments with Rob swim through my brain again. What the hell am I doing? As though a lightbulb flicks on, I realize that the fix-it side of me brought out by my mother’s problems just wants to help him. I don’t have to date him. I can be only his friend and hopefully save him from the darkness that surely surrounds him. I smile and my teeth nail down my lip as I nod my head. That’s it. Perfect.
Flittering about my room, I begin the horrible task of getting ready. I decide to wear a pair of jeans and T-shirt with my Toms. One thing that attracts me to Rob is his simplicity of attire. The boy lives in jeans and plain T-shirts in an array of colors. The only thing I’ve seen him change more than his underwear is his watch. Another odd anomaly of his. A watch collector, who would have guessed.
With my curls not cooperating, I pull my hair up in a ponytail just as a knock punches on my door. Standing up from my make-do vanity on the floor, I look at myself one more time and then step over to answer the door. “Ready?” He steps to the side, positioning his arm out for me to take.
I giggle. He’s more dapper tonight with jeans that bear no stains and a Henley shirt that fits nice and snug along his chest, ending right before his black belt. Checking out his wrist, I find a shiny silver watch wrapped around it. By the time I reach his eyes, after thoroughly ogling his body, his perfect white teeth surface from his opened smiling lips. “Good?” he asks and I set myself up for failure when I ask.
“What?” I tilt my head.
“Am I good enough to eat?”
“You know I think you’ve been polite for about,” I raise my wrist like I’m clocking the time. “One minute?” I question and he laughs.
“I tried, doesn’t that count?” he asks, shoving his hands in his pocket, peeking from me to the floor. I desperately want to call him out, but I can’t in good conscious. So, I link my arm through his and tug him to start walking.