Page 39 of American Love Story

It was like someone had dumped a bucket of cold water on me. My father never failed to let me know that to him, I was nothing but a selfish self-satisfied brat. Most days, I blew him off and ignored him. But something about being back here again a year later, still feeling unsure and somewhat pathetic for throwing myself at Patrice, made the whole thing sting. Without responding, I sighed and put the phone down, trying to figure out what to do about Patrice. I wasn’t sure what I was supposed to do now.

Did he want me to get dressed and leave?

Since I’d barged into his house in a fit of rage, fucked him, and then took a nap in his bed without asking, I’d probably worn out my welcome.

I turned around, trying to get myself out of the bed, and spoke while I had my back turned to him, not wanting to see the relief in his face when I told him I was leaving.

“I’m going to head out now. Sorry I fell asleep.” I tried to laugh but gave up. This could just be awkward and weird. I didn’t fucking care. But as I was about to stand, Patrice touched my shoulder.

“Why don’t you try to go back to sleep? You looked so tired.”

Pity. My favorite thing to hear from a lover after sex.

I shook my head, still not looking at him. “I’m fine. I’ll let you get back to your Sunday.” This time I did turn around, wanting him to see that I wouldn’t cross that line in the future. He was my tenant for fuck’s sake; I shouldn’t have done this. “It won’t happen again.”

“Don’t go, Easton.” There was just a hint of urgency in his voice. Knowing that Patrice was just as fucked up about whatever we were doing as I was only made me more tired.

I sighed as I looked around for my clothes and then remembered I’d left them downstairs.

“What am I going to stay for, Patrice? So you can fuck me again and then let me know immediately after that you regret doing it? No thanks.”

To his credit, he looked contrite. I wasn’t even sure why I was blowing up at him. It’s not like he’d asked me here. I’d showed up at his door after making all kinds of assumptions. I deflated, remembering who it was that I’d seen him with. Patrice was right about us. This was not going to work.

“I’m going to go, Patrice. I’m sorry about Ari. If there’s any way I can help, let me know. I have a good friend from law school that does immigration law in Rochester. I can get in touch with him. He does a lot of pro bono work.” Patrice looked surprised and I thought he was going to say something, but he just nodded.

“All right. I’ll walk you down.”

Without responding, I started for the stairs before I humiliated myself any further. “Don’t worry about it. I have to run anyway. I’m supposed to be at a family event and I am ridiculously late. I barged into your house, came on to you?—”

Patrice made an exasperated sound as he moved to follow me downstairs. “You didn’t come on to me. I was right there with you and wanting the same things you wanted.”

When I looked around his living room trying to find my shoes, I recalled that I’d come to his house in nothing but gym shorts and a t-shirt. Embarrassed by just how fucking ridiculous I’d been, I finished getting dressed as fast as I could and was heading to the door within seconds. Patrice stood in his living room watching. And, of course, my stupid heart clenched when he just stood there, watching me go.

“Easton, don’t leave angry. Things don’t have to be like this between us. I want us to be friends. I?—”

He fidgeted as I stared at him, for once forcing myself not to make the moment easier for Patrice, not to let him off the hook. It was what I’d been doing from the first moment we met. Diffusing and putting him at ease so he wouldn’t run off on me. I was done with that.

“Have a good day, Patrice.”

I walked out of his place, determined to stay away. I wanted him, and judging by the sex we’d had and what he’d made me feel, I probably would always want him. But there was nothing I could do to keep Patrice from running, because no matter what it was, he’d always find a reason to.

I’d grabbed the phone out of my pocket to send a quick message to my dad when I saw a new text from Ron.

There was another one. We need to figure something out.

I felt a shiver run through my body. I wondered if he was referring to Ari or if someone else had been stopped. I quickly tapped a message telling him I’d call him in a few minutes.

I texted my dad as I walked into my apartment.

I’ll be there.

I had obligations, I had work to do.

My needs would have to take a back seat for once.

Patrice

I was still standing by the door a long time after Easton left. Hating myself for once again making him feel like shit for something I wanted just as much as he did.