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Tonight, she completely took away the memories of my pain, numbing and covering it with a Band-Aid, slowly licking the wound closed.
“I needed you tonight, yes. I needed my best friend.” She comes to me at the end of my words and wraps her small arms around my waist.
“I know you did. Do you want to talk about it?” she questions, and I thoroughly debate if I want to. Mulling it over for a few moments, I nod.
“Yes, but let’s get the fire set up and get into the sleeping bag, it’s much cooler up here, and I don’t need you getting sick.”
Blushing again, she smirks. “Such a gentleman.”
We help each other set up, Shayla with the sleeping bag and blankets and me with the fire. When the flames are high enough, I step back and see Shayla already cuddled into the sleeping bag. I smile down at her and she opens the bag she is in, gesturing for me to climb in, I oblige willingly.
Getting cozy, she rolls into me, placing her head on my chest and her tiny leg around my waist. I have to think of anything I can to help me not get a fucking boner.
“So… You want to tell me what happened?” With that, my boner will gladly stay down. Time to talk about my fucking issues.
“Yeah, well…” I debate where to start, better yet how to start. Her small palms rub soothing circles on my abs, bringing me comfort. “I overheard my mom and dad talking about my mother…” I don’t have to specify, she knows. Nodding her head, she nestles into me tighter.
“You know how I thought she just left, that one day she decided we weren’t good enough for her?”
“I do.” Her voice wavers, sounding sad. I don’t need her sympathy; I need her strength.
“I need you to be strong for me right now, baby, I need you to be my strength.” Tilting her head up at me, I look down at her. Looking to me with understanding, she catches on.
“Anything, I’ll do anything for you.”
“I know you would.” I take a deep breath, as she readjusts herself, with her head propped up so she can watch me.
“I was so far off, there was way more. She had affairs—yes, I said affairs, as in more than one.” She gulps loudly and her eyebrows draw in, angst dawning all over her perfect face.
“Oh no, I’m so sorry.” I shrug my shoulders, trying my best to seem unfazed, even though I really am inside.
“I just don’t know why. My dad was telling Kathy he never understood why she strayed after I was born. He said they loved each other, so he thought.” I bite my lip and look up at the stars, avoiding her mournful stare.
“Gwen wasn’t in the right headspace, something had to have happened to her, because you and Pops are the greatest people I know. There’s no way a real mother, let alone a sane woman, could walk away from you two, unless she was crazy.”
I don’t answer right away; I stay fixated on the sky above us.
“Besides, it isn’t your fault, Trey, you will never have to worry about that happening to you. The girl you marry, she’s going to be so darn lucky to have you,” Shayla says, her hand still grazing my stomach. When it moves a little lower, her pinky touches my exposed skin where my shirt lifted slightly. I feel a bolt shoot through me, like lightning, and I can’t help but be turned on. Between the peppered light touches and her choice of words, I have no choice but to feel like I would lay myself at her goddamn feet.
“I won’t ever fall in love, love is for fools, remember?” I remind her of that day in the tree house.
“I remember, but I also know love can save you, and you’re going to find a woman who you will change your ways for, leave behind your past for, be a better man for…not that you aren’t already the greatest man I know.” She winks, tickling my side. I lift my knee and laugh. Grasping her hand, I stop her and bring her hand to my lips.
When we both stop laughing and her face turns soft, I whisper into the night air. “You give me hope, baby.”
“I will always give you hope, always, big guy.”
Sure as fucking hell she does, Shayla Donovan not only gives me hope, she is my hope.
Tonight is the night I fell for my best friend.
Shayla
THE MINUTES SEEM TO GO by slower and slower with each passing hour. Lana and Kingston went back to my apartment, and I decided to stay and wait for Trey. Three in the morning is approaching, and I haven’t even closed my eyes once, too anxious, too sick to my stomach to attempt a shot at sleep. I want Trey home.
Yesterday dwindled out of control, escalating quickly. I’m still reeling from the aftershock, my adrenaline high finally gone, and now all I have left is the pain in my heart. Gwen reopened old wounds today, stripped Trey bare again, and I so badly wish he would just get home so we can talk about this. He texted me a few hours ago, letting me know he loved me. I don’t want to overthink it, because I may be overly hopeful, but he seemed optimistic, at least in his text he did.
I’m pulled from my thoughts when I hear the front door open.
