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Chapter 20
It seems my mood is shared with the entire city as rain continues streaming outside my bedroom window. The unrelenting raindrops pelt against the thick glass, creating a depressing visual of how I feel inside.
Tiny balls of sweat stick to my skin, yet I can't bring myself to push off the thick duvet that covers me. I lay in a tight ball instead, and continue to drown in my puddle of regret. The faint smell of Tyler's cologne still lingers on my clothes from last night, making me feel guiltier as the seconds tick on.
His face keeps flashing through my mind, terrorizing me whenever I think sleep might be possible. The rejection that had washed over his features when I didn't respond to his words grips my stomach in its fist, yanking me around as the image continues to burn itself deeper into my memory.
You, Gray. I think I’m addicted to you.
His words took me by surprise. It was like someone flipped off the lights in my head. Those eight words might not have been an obvious declaration of love, but I know better than anyone that to Tyler, they may as well have. That was his attempt at letting me see the big heart that he keeps stored safely away from this world. But I was too caught up in my own feelings to think about his.
I just stared back at him—for how long I'm not even sure—just opening and closing my mouth like a damn fish. I tried racking my brain for some sort of perfect response. But I took a few seconds too long. He took my silence as a sign of rejection, and in good old Tyler fashion, closed up immediately, not letting me get another word in before he was hiding that part of him from me again. He all but pushed me out of his truck with a clenched jaw and a wave of his hand. The black smoke was the only remainder of him as I stood on the curb, watching him speed away through blurry eyes. Little did he know he was taking a fragment of me with him.
It's safe to say that I haven't moved from my bed since then, not even for the McDonalds Jess tried to bribe me with this morning. I’ve been staring at the flat screen hanging on the wall across the room for so long my eyes burn. But I don’t dare turn it off now. My brother is skating across T.V as his team wins with another unsurprising blowout score. With him being so far away, it's almost soothing to be able to see him play, even if it is just through a small screen. Days like today, though, I wish he was just a drive away. I know he's out doing what he loves, but I miss him and his horrible advice a lot more than I would ever admit to him.
Sometimes I need my big brother.
Sometimes I wish I didn’t have to be alone.
I pull the blankets tighter around my head when someone knocks on my door. "What?" I grumble, my voice muffled. The door handle rattles before the light from the hall floods the room and through the thick material of my blanket.
"Is that any way to talk to your favourite soon-to-be sister?”
I rip the blanket off with flailing arms and launch myself at Ava. My squeal mutes her gentle laugh and I throw my arms around her shoulders.
“You reek like sweat.” She sniffs me with a scrunched nose.
I roll my eyes and sit back down on my bed, running a hand over my hair in an attempt to diminish the static left behind from my duvet.
"I thought you would have been in Vegas with Oakley this weekend. When did you get here?" I’m nearly bouncing in place.
"Vegas isn't really my thing. I decided to pay a visit to you guys instead. You know how your brother gets at the Casino. There’s only so many poker games this girl can watch before she falls asleep at the table." She drops a small bag down beside my door and sits down beside me. "I got here last night but Morgan insisted I stay with them."
We laugh together and I feel a smile touch my lips for the first time today. "How is the mama doing? She's gotta be ready to pop soon, right?" I'm sure we're all more than ready to meet baby Miller.
Ava nods. "A little over a month to go. Matt is about ready to pull his hair out."
"I don't blame him. The guy's a damn saint for being able to handle Morgan." We all love Morgan, but God she makes Regina George look like a saint when she's pregnant.
"Speaking of saints. How's Tyler?" she asks, brows dancing with excitement and a knowing curiosity. I shake my head before I let the guilt reach for me again.
"What's that look for? Did he do something? I swear! Between him and Adam I'm going to lose my damn mind," she growls, and with a huff, shoves her hand into her jacket pocket and pulls out her phone.
"No, Ava. Don't. He didn't do anything!” I nearly shriek, reaching into her lap to grab the phone.
"He didn't?" Her eyes widen and she stares at me without blinking. Sheesh, you would have thought I just told her the sky was falling.
I drop my head in my hands and shake my head a few times. "No. I did."
"You did?" she sputters. I still don’t think that she’s blinked.
"I finally started to make a dent in that fucking wall of his right before I helped glue it right back together," I groan and throw myself back on my bed.
I hear her sigh as I stare at the tiny lumps on the ceiling. She lies down beside me and links her hand with mine, giving it a squeeze.
"I'm sure it wasn't that bad."
Always the voice of reason, this one. "I met his family, Ava. And he opened up to me, about his feelings," I sigh.
