Messy Love(53)

“Nah, you’ve always done stupid things, but because she’s called you out on your bullshit you know it.’’

“Don’t pull any punches, asshole,’’ I mumbled and glared at the credits on the flat screen.

“Pff, you’ve got a thick skin when you want.’’ Ralph yawned loudly and checked the time on his phone. “Shit, it’s getting late. My dad wants me to join him on a job to repair a house's roof at first light. Lucky me.’’

“Can’t blame your old man. You came back from New York without a music contract and no idea of how to earn your dough.’’

“Yeah, yeah. I know,’’ he replied somberly and stood up just when someone knocked at the door. “Did you send a booty call?’’

“Nah,’’ I replied curtly and pushed him out of my way once I was on my feet. He followed me closely as I made my way to the door and opened. “Marissa?’’ I asked, my guards down and my frown, the one I usually had whenever she was around, nowhere in sight.

“Hey, sweetheart,’’ Ralph said and lightly punched me in the back, his laughter too loud. The guy tormented me on a daily basis, and it looked like he enjoyed my mess way too much. “Didn’t know you were comin'.’’

“Hey, Ralph. It wasn’t planned. Sorry to crash your guy night.’’ She hiked up her purse on her shoulder and fidgeted.

“It’s all good. I was about to leave anyway. I’m supposed to work early tomorrow.’’ He grimaced and sidestepped me to give her a bear hug quickly and strolled away with a waved over his shoulder and his laughter trailing after him.

“I expected an answer by text, not in person,’’ I said after a good, long minute spent there in awkward and tense silence.

“I didn’t expect a text from you at all,’’ she replied, but without the annoyance, I was sure I’d hear in her voice.

“Yeah, about that…’’

“Don’t say you’re sorry.’’

“Why not?’’

“Because it took a lot from me to have the guts to show up at your place.’’

“Come in then.’’

***





MARISSA


We were both sitting on the couch facing the TV on HBO with the credits rolling from Game of Thrones if I wasn’t mistaken. The music in this TV series was distinctive.

Where I would usually curl on my couch to watch an episode while begging more or less vocally for my favorite characters to not die, here, I was tensed and so very conscious of Wyatt’s imposing body next to me that I didn’t know what to do with myself.

Instead, I listened to his breathing, even and deep. I tuned into his every little movement, like the way his hands opened and closed into fists every few seconds. And mostly, I silently berated myself for coming here instead of just texting back something or calling. I was so sure it’d be easier to face him…

I was clueless and also delusional because my very being reacted to this man and most of the time I couldn’t place a word on that reaction. All I knew was that my flesh raised into goosebumps while my heart pumped blood always harder and faster.

“Aren’t you going to say anything?’’ he asked ruefully, breaking the silence at last.

I cleared my throat with uneasiness and ran my hands along my thighs, again and again. “Is there anything I could say to make all of this more bearable? Let’s be honest, Wyatt. We’re fucked up whenever we’re in the same room.’’ I shook my head and glanced at him before I let my eyes drift away and back to the TV. Locking eyes with him only made my heart give a painful squeeze. “I shouldn’t have come here, but I thought seeing you would make things more clear.’’

“My text wasn’t a way to warn you off,’’ he said and rubbed at his face so hard I wondered if he wasn’t trying to hurt himself somehow. He breathed into his hands and then straightened to trap me in his stare, right when I thought I could escape him and look away again. Not this time.

I got lost in the darkness there, a bottomless hole that drew me in once again. When staring into his eyes, I always seemed to find myself searching for a light in there, proof that he wasn’t only made of sadness, fear, and anger. He made it impossible to pass through his shields, and I knew for a fact that even when I thought I was through, it was when I risked the most pain.

“Why did you ask Ralph to make me contact your mother?’’

His frown deepened, and his chest expanded distractedly at his deep inhalation. “Believe it or not, but once in a while I can stop being selfish.’’ There it was. A flicker. Something lighter. Something tender. Something that had my heart stuttering pitifully in my chest. “My mom needed to see you, and I owed you that much after…’’ he trailed off then and dropped his eyes to his legs widely spread apart.

“Yeah.’’ I licked my lips and fixed my gaze on his tats, my eyes lingering a bit longer on the skulls and the flowers surrounding it. “But what about your text?’’

His eyelids shut tightly and the expression briefly twisting his face wasn’t unlike something you’d see on someone when in pain. But as quickly as it came, it was gone. Once again, Wyatt showed me how good he was at keeping a tight leash on what’s underneath that hard exterior.