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The next few days went by in a blur. He tried to call and message her, but the message went straight to voicemail and was left unread.
Did she block his number? He didn’t mess up that badly, did he? It’s not like he knew she was coming. He didn’t even touch that girl for fucks sake. She has to let him explain.
He called Marisol. He pleaded for her to help him. She said she did what she could, and he fucked it up.
Like everything else in his life, apparently.
He wasn't giving up, not by a long shot.
He knew what school she worked at, so he was going to stalk her ass until she talked to him. It wasn't a long bus ride, but it was definitely longer than he wanted it to be.
His body itching, begging him to do something.
He doesn't know where she lives; otherwise, he would have gone there. The likelihood of seeing her would have been higher that way. So, instead, he would camp out at the school every day for a week if he had to. It was a long shot, but it was the only shot he had.
His classes hadn’t started yet, and with no swimming, he had all the time in the world. He sat on a bench at the opposite end of the school parking lot, with a textbook in hand to do his reading for the upcoming semester.
He knew she wasn't a morning person, so his sleuthing started after lunch, just waiting to see if she would show up.
He didn't have to wait very long. On his second day, he sees her. Sitting in the passenger's side of a pickup truck. The bed of the truck full of what he can only assume is teacher shit. And, of course, Dickhead Duke was at attention in the driver's seat. He stands there, watching Duke make his way around the truck, unloading box after box for her. He even single-handedly pulled a damn bookshelf from the bed of his truck. Melody grabs the smallest box herself, looking beautiful and fucking happy.
And Graham just stands there, watching.
It should have been him helping her unload the boxes. But he is a dumbass kid who doesn't even own a truck. How was he going to help her? Bring it on the bus with him?
He sits back down, watching their interactions. It’s friendly and comfortable but not intimate, and for that, he is incredibly fucking thankful. He isn't sure how he would reacted if they had kissed in front of him. He would have lost it and probably killed the guy.
He runs his hands over his hair, indecision running through him. He knows he can't provide anything for her. At least not right now, not in the way it mattered. He can't help her with the mortgage or help her move her shelves to the school. He can't provide the kind of stable environment that she needs. At this point in his life, he was pretty much worthless. He may be able to satisfy her physical needs, but she needed more than that. She needed a partner.
He watches her as she gets back into Duke's truck. He opens and closes the passenger side door for her. Like a fucking gentleman.
Ugh, what a dick.
Rounding the truck, Duke's gaze meets his across the street. Recognition fills his features. Graham can tell the moment it happens. A slow smile curves over Duke's lips as he tilts his head up in acknowledgment.
Before he gets in the truck, the jerk gives Graham a wink. Well played, asshole.
Then Duke jumps right in, his truck rolling slowly into the street, leaving Graham alone on the sidewalk, completely shattered.
She's right. It really is better this way.
Chapter Sixteen
Melody
She is tired.
Like bone dead exhausted.
School started over two months ago, and she has yet to recover. Duke has been great, but he has always been great, helping her move her shelves and organize her classroom.
It was just like old times, just without the relationship. Not that he hadn't tried. She just didn't think she could be intimate with anyone right now. She was still raw from everything that happened with Graham that anytime she thought about someone else's hands on her, her stomach would roil, and she would throw up.
Everything made her stomach roil these days. And if she were being honest with herself, she should probably see a doctor.
She has tried to get little tidbits of information from Marisol about Graham and how he was doing. But all she got was that he was struggling right now and hadn’t really been communicating with anyone.
So many thoughts were swimming through her head. Was he ok? Did something happen to him? Is he hurt? Did he need her? But let’s be serious, she didn’t fool herself into thinking, he was working through it on his own.Someone like Graham could have anyone one wanted.
