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“When we get home later, I’ll take care of your needs, but we have reservations and I need to be a gentleman tonight.” Nodding in agreement, she jumps down from my arms and plants her feet on the cement.
“You’re right, take me out like a gentleman and then take me home and treat me a little less like a lady.” Instantly, I’m turned on and ready to march her up the stairs over my shoulder.
“You little minx, you are definitely asking for it. Now get in the car.” She gives me a pouty face before heading in that direction. I slap her on the ass hard, giving her a little pe
p in her step, the slap echoes through the underground garage. We both laugh as we get into her car, since my keys are upstairs and her fine ass rushed down here to see me. I get to drive around town in a chick car versus my lifted black truck. Damn. At least my shotgun rider is sexy as fuck, it totally makes up for it.
Once settled, I start the car, making our way to the restaurant. Within twenty minutes we are sitting in a booth at our favorite Italian restaurant in downtown Seattle.
“You remember the first time we ate here?” I ask, taking a sip of my water.
“Yeah, it was our first night here. We were so tired from unpacking all day.” I remember the day vividly, just like I remember how happy we all were to be starting new. Lana was free from Joel, Kings and Shay from their overly judgmental mom, and I was there with Shayla.
“I know, the drive on top of unpacking was killer, wasn’t it, babe?” We both chuckle at the memory. I really thank my lucky stars for that day. I thank them even more now for the time we are spending together, as a couple.
Shayla makes me feel an easy calm, a quiet serene, helping me forget for a moment, about the past that still haunts me.
“Do you miss Utah?”
“I do. Every day.” She looks up from her menu as I put my hand under the table and rub her thigh gently, letting her continue.
“I miss it, but I don’t think I could go back. This has become our home. You, Kings, Lana, and me. All of it’s home to me now.”
I love the twinkle in her eye when she talks about all of us and this being home. Shayla has a way with words and making everything she says something you want to be a part of. It’s riveting.
“We should go back to visit sometime. It’s almost Christmas, we could go up there and visit Park City. We haven’t been snowboarding in a while, yeah?” Our entire group loved snowboarding season, we would do that shit together all the time. Just another memory that involved Shay and me.
“Yeah! That would be fun, we could go as a group.”
I nod, taking another sip of my water to keep myself from saying anything about Kings and Lana. I don’t want to go behind Kingston’s back, but I also hate hiding things from her.
I’m thankful when the waiter comes and takes our order, distracting her. I saw her looking at me with a weird expression; she could obviously see my unease.
Lying in Shay’s bed later that night, we talk about me seeing my pops tomorrow. Shayla tensed up a little when I told her I was gonna fill him in on everything happening between us. My dad fucking loves Shay, but Shay has her doubts. We all live with hidden insecurities and sometimes they come out to play. Her fearing my dad won’t support us as a couple is ridiculous, but that’s her cross and all I can do is prove to her that it’s the furthest thing from the truth.
I change the subject and distract her enough until she’s softly snoring on my chest, in her spot. I fall asleep thinking about seeing my dad tomorrow.
I know he’s going to talk about my mom, and just the thought alone has my palms sweating and my tongue going dry. He wants me to forgive her because he thinks she’s holding me back from falling in love. Little does he know, I slipped into love with Shayla years ago.
I really wish she didn’t still affect my life, but she does. So much so, that just hours earlier at dinner, her actions haunted me again. Shay started talking about Evan and the photo shoot, and with the mere mention of his name, I felt hot and violent. I could’ve punched through a brick wall and only left a scratch on my knuckles; my adrenaline was that high.
I know she wouldn’t cheat, but part of me still thinks anything is possible. If she gets a good look at my demons she just might take off running for the next best thing, someone who can give her what I can’t. Knowing about my mom and the hole it left is one thing, however my jealousy issues extend further than what she’s already seen. I need to find a way to get that shit under control, before I go too far and push her away for good.
Trey
I WOKE UP EARLY this morning, sneaking out of bed reluctantly so my girl could sleep, and head out to see my dad. When I moved to Seattle he didn’t want to be far, so he bought a house in Portland, that way I’d be within driving distance. Shay’s dad lives not too far from my father, moving with us, too. I swear we are like the Brady bunch. Where one goes, we all fucking go. I invited Shay to see her dad, but he is out of town until tomorrow.
My dad has three homes, one each in Portland, Salt Lake City, and San Diego. He mainly stays in the Portland house so he can be close to me. My dad’s an entrepreneur, owning multiple companies that specialize in helping smaller businesses grow, making him very wealthy. He offered to help Lana and Shayla, but they refused—saying it was a handout and they wanted to do this all on their own. It’s admirable.
When my mom left, he drank for months. Then one day something changed. When I woke up he was dressed in a suit and tie, and had this look in his eyes; it was determination, no longer sadness.
Within a year, we had moved out of our small apartment and into a four-bedroom home, big enough for a family of five, but it was just us two. From there he taught me how to be a man, becoming my best friend. I learned everything I know from him, he’s truly my best friend.
Pulling up the horseshoe driveway, I put my truck into park outside the front door. I wait a second before getting out of my truck; I need a moment to muster up some courage to tell him everything.
The sound of the front door catches my attention. Slamming my truck door I walk around the front, my dad’s smiling face greets me. He looks so similar to me, or I should say I look just like him. He has sandy blond hair, with a touch of gray throughout, a strong jawline, and the bluest eyes. There’s no doubt I’m his son.
“Hey, Pops,” I say, wrapping my arms around him and pulling him in for a hug. He lets out a loud huff of air, letting me know he’s aware that I need him. Man, is he right; I need to talk to my dad. How he can tell by just my appearance and a hug, I have no idea.
