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He rests his forehead against mine, fixating his gaze on me. “Tell me. Is it bad?”
“No, it’s good news.” I take a quick breath. “I’m moving out next weekend.”
His fingers twitch on my hips, causing them to dig in a little more. “How?” He pulls away from me a bit. “I mean, I thought you didn’t even have time to look?”
“I used my lunch break,” I reply weakly. This is supposed to be a good thing, but he’s acting as if it’s not. Did he or did he not say, “You could move in with me. Until you find a new place, I mean.” I’ve found a new place. I followed through on our plan. What’s the issue here?
Trace isn’t helping me out either. He’s just staring at me with his lips parted, as if he’s about to say something, but no words are leaving his mouth. “You’re leaving?” he finally manages to say.
“Yes. I’m leaving, like I’m supposed to. It’s a nice place, the rent is cheaper than what I was paying, and it’s not too terribly far from work. It’s a studio apartment, but it works for what I need right now,” I ramble, starting to panic since I can’t read what he’s feeling, other than the fact that he’s not happy for me. “Why aren’t you saying anything? This is good. I don’t think either of us want to live together as an actual couple yet. All you have to say is that’s great, I’m happy for you, or something like that. Those are all good responses to keep from sticking your foot in your mouth, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
“No, it’s not that.”
“Then what?”
“Brittany,” Melissa has rushed over, standing on the concrete behind Trace. “I need you for a second.”
I glance at Trace.
“Go ahead.” He lets me go and I climb out of the pool to follow Melissa, grabbing my towel along the way.
“What is it?”
She looks nervous all of a sudden. “Nothing, but y’all looked like y’all were about to have an argument, so I thought I’d save you.”
“I told him I was moving out, and he seems unhappy, which is crazy, right?”
“Maybe he wants you to stay,” she suggests.
“He only offered because I was out of options. It was supposed to be short term and how can he know after a week if he’d want to make it permanent?”
Melissa shrugs. “I don’t know. Because y’all survived it and he actually liked having you there? Stop thinking as if it was temporary. Based on your time there, would you want to live with him?”
“I…” I don’t know. I mean, yeah, it was great, but living together?
“You still don’t trust him,” Melissa says quietly. “Otherwise, you wouldn’t be hesitating so much. Take this from the girl who never trusted anyone: life without trust becomes lonely.”
“I can’t force it.”
She rests her hand over mine, which is currently squeezing the hell out of my wrist. “No, but you can be more open.”
“That’s what my therapist keeps telling me.”
She laughs. “I don’t know if it’s good or bad that I’m spitting out advice similar to hers.”
Fingertips softly land on my lower back and I glance over my shoulder to see Trace. “I need to talk to you.”
Without waiting, he leads me to a quiet corner of Ben’s yard. It’s hard to be too nervous about whatever he’s going to say when I’m distracted by the seemingly millions of droplets sliding down his gorgeous chest, some growing too heavy on the points of his hair and falling to their deaths on his torso.
“Is it final?”
“Is what final?” I ask, confused as I bring my gaze up to his.
Trace grabs the back of his neck and gives it a good squeeze. “You leaving.”
“I sign the paperwork Monday, if that’s what you mean. Why is this a big deal, Trace?”
“You don’t like living with me.” Supposed to be a question, but his tone makes it a statement.
