Page 35 of Troubles

Of all the fucking things to do, twisting my needs to suit her wants and fears is too much. And she knows it. She’s seen my mom pull that shit and Gracyn’s been the one to scrape me off the floor from the aftermath. Literally.

Done with today. I’m done with it. The morning hasn’t improved my mood. The fight with my friend reminded me why I’m not good at accepting help. I never thought this shit would happen with Gracyn.

Never.

“Lis, I’m sorry, okay? What…what do I need to do? How can I apologize?” She knows. She fucking knows that she can’t twist things and use me as an excuse to get what she wants—or avoid what she thinks she doesn’t.

I’ve got Gavin’s tour schedule saved to my phone. They come anywhere close to this area again and I’m dragging her ass to the show. That’ll help.

“Dammit, Lis, stop. Just…I knew I would end up there if I didn’t have somewhere else I had to be.” Her voice drops and she slumps into a seat at the kitchen table. “I needed to work that night as much as you needed the time off.”

“Why not talk to me, though? What the hell? I don’t understand.” I throw my hands up in the air, before letting them fall to my sides.

“I know. I…you have so much going on and…listen to me, just for a minute.” Her fingers twist through her hair, frustration rolling off her in waves. “If anyone gets how important this class is for you, staying on schedule to graduate early, it’s me. I know. I get it—I’ve been with you through all of your family shit. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you he was here and that I needed to be busy. I just…I will. Okay? Next time, I will.” She finally raises her head and looks at me. “I just need some time.”

“Gracyn, you’re scaring me. Tell me what happened?”

“Not yet. Not now, but I promise to tell you everything. Soon.” And with that, she leaves. No makeup, not put together. Just grabs her keys and leaves. Tears already streaming down her face.

This is so not right. It seems like every time things start looking like they’re all going to line up and life is going to move forward without drama, something shakes loose. We’ll be okay. It just goes to show that disappointment is lurking.

This is the most we’ve talked in weeks. We just haven’t crossed paths—which is odd. I can honestly say I’ve not been avoiding her. I really hate conflict and the shitty feelings that never seem to dissipate, and talking is the only way I know to make things better. But she’s been steering clear of me.

I dump the rest of the coffee into my go-cup and grab my bags. I’m going straight from class to work today, like I have been for most of the summer, and then hopefully to Aidan’s.

Things have been going really well, other than with my dear sweet friend, and it scares the shit out of me. I don’t want to think about the next thing to go wrong, but I feel like the snowball has started down the mountain.

My knuckles barely land on the door, when it flies open and Aidan steps into me. He wraps his hands around my cheeks pulling me in close and kisses me like he hasn’t seen me in ages. I’m completely consumed by him as he kisses my breath away.

He pulls back and with his lips ghosting over mine, he whispers, “Christ, I missed you. What are you doing to me?” Aidan’s forehead rests against mine as I breathe in the faint scent of stale beer, sweat and him.

“Come in, then. I was just waiting to take a shower until you got here.”

He scoops my bag off my shoulder and pulls me through the door.

“Pretty presumptuous,” I laugh when he turns to look at me, cheeks flushed and brows pinned to his hairline.

“Not what I meant, but if you’re offerin’, I won’t deny you.” His sparkling eyes contrast with the low, gravelly timbre of his voice.

Before a response has a chance to form in my head, the door swings open again, narrowly missing my backside. Finn and a couple guys from the pub stumble in, smirk hitching up on the left side of his mouth.

“Am I intererruptin’?” He looks back and forth between us knowing full and well that he might be.

“Nope. I just got here.” I take my bag from Aidan’s hand and stalk to the stairs. “Aidan, why don’t you shower first? I’ll go after you.” And up the stairs I trot to the sound of snickering and mumbles.

Freshly showered, damp hair piled on my head, I walk through the apartment quickly, avoiding the furtive looks from the guys sprawled across the couch. Aidan is out on the small deck with a couple icy glasses of water for us and the noise blissfully dies as I pull the door shut behind me.

“Guess we’re not watching a movie?”

Aidan huffs out a laugh and hands me a glass. “We’re not. Sorry, it’s pretty crowded here at times.” He’s leaning against the railing, arms crossed over his bare chest, shorts slung low on his hips. His gaze settles the four, loud man-children who took over the couch and TV.

With a decisive nod, Aidan straightens up and ducks inside grabbing a pillow and a light blanket from the basket by the couch. “Here, take my glass—” He leans over the railing and chucks the stuff he grabbed to the deck of the apartment below us.

“What are you doing?” I snort out a laugh and watch him scale down the ladder that runs down the side of the deck. “Aidan?”

“Hand down the glasses and come on.” He reaches up and takes our drinks.

Shimmying down the ladder, I step onto his neighbor’s deck. Aidan throws the pillow on a hammock spread between the deck supports. “Aidan, we can’t just use his hammock,” I laugh. The guy who lives here is nice, but this is a bit presumptuous.

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