Risk (Gentry Boys #2)(46)

“I love you, Say,” he choked out. Their embrace soon turned passionate. They comforted each other with sex and vows of love. It wasn’t something meant for me to hear. I jumped over the patio wall and left them behind.

They’d never even know I’d been there.





CHAPTER SEVENTEEN


Truly



After I left Creed in front of his apartment I felt a little hollowed out. I believed him when he said he wasn’t all bent out of shape over another girl, but something was troubling him. And whatever it was, he didn’t feel like sharing it.

“Get a handle on it, Truly,” I grumbled. I was irritated with my own disappointment. Creed didn’t owe me anything, not really. The time we’d spent together had been nothing short of incredible but we hadn’t exactly pledged our undying love to each another. I drove the short distance back to my apartment in a funk.

Usually an evening to myself was a gift. I loved curling up with Dolly to read, watch a movie or do anything to pass the hours quietly and happily. I craved that kind of peace tonight but knew I wouldn’t find it. I craved something else more.

“I’m starting to like you too much.”

“Who says?”

Stephanie was sitting in the unlit kitchen when I walked in. She had Dolly in her lap, which was strange because usually she paid as much attention to my cat as she paid to everyone else. In other words, virtually none.

“Hey Steph,” I said as Dolly jumped off her lap.

My roommate looked at me. We’d shared the same apartment for the better part of a year and I barely knew her. She was from New York, didn’t talk about her family at all, and didn’t mention to me that her twenty first birthday had passed until a month after it happened. She was always talking to people, yet seemed to have no friends. It had occurred to me that perhaps the reason I’d adapted so easily to Creed’s stoic nature was because I’d become used to seeing it every day in her.

“Hey,” she answered in a lackluster tone.

I paused. It hadn’t taken us long to adopt a routine. We greeted one another when our paths crossed. Sometimes we had short conversations. But I wouldn’t describe us as friends. We didn’t joke around and seek out each other’s company like Saylor and I did. Suddenly that made me sad.

Stephanie brushed a lock of her curly blonde hair across her lips as she watched me sit in the opposite chair. She was wearing her glasses, which she rarely did. I had no idea what the hell was going on in that girl’s head as we stared at each other across the table.

“No boy tonight?” she asked.

“Doesn’t look like it,” I answered. “What about you?”

Her eyebrows furrowed. “What about me?”

“Do you ever have nights with boys?”

She smiled. “Are you asking me if I like boys?”

I held up my hands. “Not judging. Like whomever you want. I was just curious because I didn’t know the answer.”

Stephanie looked out the kitchen window. “I like boys,” she said faintly.

“Any one in particular?”

“No,” she answered in a flat tone. Then she sighed. I couldn’t shake the feeling something heavy was weighing on her mind. Lately she’d been even more brusque than usual. If Creed were here they could glare at one another in tight-lipped silence. It would be a hard fought contest of stubborn detachment.

Stephanie cleared her throat suddenly. “Where are you from, Truly? I never asked.”

I didn’t know what prompted this sudden fit of interest but I decided not to question it. “I was born in Louisiana. Then for seventeen years I did time in various parts of Georgia, both Carolinas, Florida, Alabama, Arkansas and Mississippi.”

She looked curious. “Why?”

I shrugged. “Because we were usually running from a landlord or a shitty man. Because my mama didn’t like to let roots gather under her feet. And because she never let our need for stability get in the way of doing whatever the hell she wanted.”

Stephanie nodded slowly when I finished talking. “I grew up on Long Island. It’s the only place I’ve ever lived other than here.” She coughed once. “I had a nice mother. She gave me a good childhood.”

She said these things with a forlorn quality I’d never heard from her before. I was trying to figure out how to respond when her phone buzzed. She grimaced when she looked at the screen. After firing off a quick text she rose from the table.

“Problem?” I asked, noting the angry look on her face.

“Client,” she answered curtly. “I’ve got to go.”

She disappeared into her bedroom. I stayed at the table and listened to her crash around on the other side of the wall for a few minutes. When she emerged she was wearing a dark oversized sweatshirt even though it was over ninety degrees out.

“See ya,” she grunted with a wave. I figured that was likely the end of any heartfelt communication for at least a month or two. I wondered what kind of ‘client’ she had. Then I deliberated whether my roommate might be a prostitute.

I was restless. For a while I just wandered around the apartment, aimlessly tidying the place. I peeked into Stephanie’s room. It was messy, as usual.

After changing into a pair of gym shorts and a plain white t-shirt I took the rest of the gumbo out of the fridge. I ate it right out of the container and thought about the Gentry boys. Both Creed and Chase had seemed so strangely pleased by the simple act of someone preparing food for them, as if no one had ever done so before. I’d listened to Saylor describe what the boys were like growing up. They were all, including Cord, a pack of wild rogues from a rotten family. As they grew to manhood they had been feared as much as they were desired. Saylor was now deeply in love with Cord and she treated his brothers with sisterly affection. Those three might be a little rough yet, but I was starting to realize what she already knew; they were all decent men who were eager to be loved.