Page 41 of It's Always Us

She doesn’t have to believe it. I’ll show her.

Chapter 12

LEX

“Go home. I have no idea why you even came in. You looked like you crawled out of hell this morning. We don’t need whatever you have passed around here.”

I lean over the toilet and heave again while Grandpa yells at me from the doorway. I brace my hands on my knees, steadying myself before I stand.

I could argue with him. I don’t want to go home and lay in bed thinking about Mark, but a nap does sound good, and I don’t need Grandpa breathing down my neck.

“Fine. I’ll go home for a while, but if I feel better, I’m coming back. I promised Glen I’d have his bike done by tomorrow afternoon.”

The garage is full, and we’re short-staffed this week since Carson is on a hunting expedition. Grandpa steps out of the way so I can grab my keys.

Twenty minutes later, I climb the stairs to my room and into a long, warm shower. Feeling queasy again, I dig out my comfort shirt and pull it on before crawling into bed. I lie there thinking about Mark.

I watched his last game and saw his first win of the playoffs, moving his team a step closer to the Super Bowl. I couldn’t help but be filled with pride and wished I could have been there.

It’s been my dream to be there, standing and waiting for him, as I did after his games in high school. I sent him a voice message and told him how proud I was of him, but I haven’t heard back.

He told me after the season is over, he’s coming for me. I want him to come for me, or hell, I’d go to him, but his current schedule doesn’t have room for visitors.

I close my eyes and pull the covers over my head. This is his job, and it’s been his life. It’s no different from the garage being mine. I just want to know that at some point, he and I will actually figure out how to be together.

Two hours later, I wake with a warm streak of sunshine on my face. I stretch as my stomach rumbles with hunger. I stare at the ceiling for a few minutes and then pull myself from bed to find something to eat that sounds good.

In the kitchen, I grab some crackers and a glass of water, taking a seat at the table. I scroll my phone, unable to prevent the habit of searching for Mark. I listen to a new interview, and his smile makes my lips turn upward. The man takes handsomeness to a whole new level.

A light knock on the back door disrupts me from stalking my own husband, and I click off Mark’s face. Krissy stands on the other side of the door. I open it, returning to the table.

“Hey.”

She’s dressed casually in jeans and a sweatshirt, and she’s cute. She has that effortless, adorable gift that’s annoying to the rest of us who have to work for every ounce of appearing only slightly put together. Her short, dark bob frames her face, and her long, fake eyelashes almost touch her eyebrows.

“I stopped by the garage. You missed me irritating the hell out of Slade by pretending to flirt with Trigger.”

I smile. “Did Slade start barking orders and make Trig take stock in the parts room?”

Krissy laughs. “Yeah, I felt bad, but I don’t think Trigger minded. He stuck his head out and winked at me when I left. He made sure Slade saw it. At least Carson wasn’t there.”

There’s something in that mumbled comment about Carson, but I let go for now. “Poor Trig. He bought himself a week of all the crap jobs.” I take a bite of a cracker.

“Slade said you’re sick, so I thought I’d stop by and check on you.” She presses the back of her hand to my forehead. “You doing ok? You don’t look so bad.”

“Yeah. I took a nap and showered. I’m feeling better. I don’t know. It’s weird.”

Krissy surveys the kitchen. “Want me to make you something? I can warm up some soup if you have it, or run and get some. It’s my day off.”

“It’s ok. I’ll eat a few crackers, and if that stays down, I’ll make a sandwich.”

“I haven’t seen much of you lately. We miss you coming over to watch the games with us.”

My Sunday afternoons are usually spent at Slade’s house, eating and watching football. With everything going on, I haven’t wanted to watch Mark with others around and try to pretend not to feel anything.

Not telling Grandpa, Slade, or even my mom about Mark has been difficult. I don’t keep things from them, but with our current state, it seems easier. I don’t need them getting their underwear in a bunch over it, and I don’t need anyone telling me what I should or shouldn’t be doing. Mark and I have to figure this out on our own.

“I know. I’m sorry. There’s been a lot going on. I’m sure Slade told you about the ASE test, and I’ve been putting in more hours at the shop.”

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