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“You’re trying my patience, Deanna.” A hard exhale comes out of his nose, his lips pressed flat together.
“Well, you’re wearin’ on mine!” I argue back.
He grabs my hand and pulls me back to his truck. I let him because I don’t see the point in fighting with him anymore. It’s apparent five minutes into the ride that he’s not going to say a word to me.
“Why are you pissed that Zane walked me out?”
He throws me a look that I can’t quite distinguish in the darkness of the truck. “Are you kidding me?”
“No. He was only being nice. I mean, I told him I could walk out myself and he came anyway, but it was still a nice gesture.”
Brayden scoffs. “Nice. Z’s always nice to you. I don’t trust that fucker farther than I could throw him. Feelings don’t magically go away and I’m almost certain if you gave him a chance, he’d be with you in a heartbeat. He’s probably happy about the fact we’re having issues.”
“Why would you say that?” Surely, he wouldn’t be. Zane didn’t seem that way with me.
“Because aside from him having his arm around you for no reason just a few minutes ago—”
“You don’t know why his arm was there,” I interrupt and receive the coldest glare in history.
“There is no reason for him to ever touch you unless you’re dying or he’s shaking your hand,” he quickly informs me. “When we were on the trip, I decided to ask him if you ever ignored him. He grinned and was sure to tell me you did and that it was because you didn’t want to talk to him or because you were with someone else.”
Ouch. Way to hit low, Zane. I try to gather my thoughts and figure out how to respond. “So, what? Now, you’re pissed at me because I didn’t immediately push him away?”
“No, you were just oblivious as usual.”
How much shit do I take from him because I hurt him before I’m allowed to get pissed at him taking it out on me? There should be some sort of balance. What he’s saying isn’t helping and it’s not making me like him any more right now. I take a deep breath to soothe the irritations. “I came tonight because I want to fix things with you, not to make things worse. I most certainly didn’t come for Zane to be all we talked about.”
Brayden doesn’t respond. I don’t know if he plans to, if he’s thinking about things, or if he’s ignoring me. A sigh escapes me when he pulls into my driveway. I yank on the door handle, but Brayden’s hand flies over to grab my knee before I can slide out. “I don’t want to deal with this tonight.”
“Okay.” Feeling his fingers glide over my jeans as I move away and hop out of the truck is almost too much. It’s almost as if he was touching bare skin. A sense of hopelessness begins to fill my soul. Getting back into Brayden’s good graces will be harder than I thought. I glance over my shoulder once I push open my door just a few inches and he starts to back up.
Hard or not, I’m not giving up.
***
About halfway to Deanna’s house, a headache started building with tremendous pressure. My mood soured immediately as I panicked. Was I having concussion symptoms again? Did I get another one? Or was it a simple headache? How often did I get headaches before? I couldn’t remember. Hell, I barely remember the ride to Deanna’s because I kept getting distracted by my headache.
Waking up first thing this morning to find it gone causes me to breathe a huge sigh of relief. My phone beeps. It’s too early for texts. I haven’t even rolled out of bed yet. I reach over to grab it.
Deanna: Do you want join Otis and me for our morning run? We can meet at your house.
Her message surprises me. We didn’t exactly end things on a high note, or even on neutral grounds, last night. I feel bad for taking my anger at seeing her with Zane out on her. I was more pissed at him than her. The fact that he dropped his arm like she was poisonous the moment he saw me was proof enough that he knew he shouldn’t be so damn cozy with her. I was slightly irritated with her because she misses what I think should be obvious signs, but it’s not like she’ll change overnight and suddenly start seeing them.
Me: Sure. I can meet you at your house. Be there in a little bit.
I get out of bed, get ready within minutes, and head out the door. I’m not sure if I’m ready to see her, to be honest. But I pushed her off last night, I won’t push her off again. I want this to work. There’s no way for it to work if I don’t give her a chance to fix things. If I don’t give myself a chance to get over it.
I’ve been trying to dissect what pisses me off and bothers me the most. Is it the part where she ran and ignored me for a few days? Is it the part where she thought she was pregnant, bailed, and thought I’d dump her because I would make my career a priority? Or is it the part where she clearly doesn’t trust me to keep my word?
All of the above.
What she’s failing to realize is what I chose to ignore for so long: my career won’t last forever. I used to think that meant I definitely needed to give it my everything with no distractions to give it my all while I had it. Since meeting Deanna, something else has clicked for me. My career will be part of the best years of my life. Do I really want to spend that time alone? When I could spend it with someone like Deanna? Do I want to wait until I’m retired and finding something to do with my spare time to find the love of my life? No, on all accounts. The hard part remains making Deanna see that instead of my history.
She must’ve been waiting for me because she walks out her front door as I pull the key from the ignition of my truck. Otis is on his leash, tugging her forward, but Deanna’s mouth is moving, most likely talking to him and trying to keep him under control. Her smile wobbles, conveying her unease and nerves while I get out of the truck.
“Hey,” she says.
“Hey.” I lean down to pet Otis.
