Page 16 of Dream with Me

Fuck. Ing. Ass. Hole. How did I not see this?

I pull my head away from him and find my inner strength. “Not a chance. That’s a hard no for me.”

Before I have a second to process what’s happening, Anthony grabs me by my upper arms on both sides and slams me backward. Pain erupts at the back of my head as it cracks against the cinder block wall.

As quick as he was on me, he’s ripped off, and I turn to see a familiar baseball cap worn backward on Troy’s head. Troy now has Anthony pinned up against the wall. Anthony’s face is red as a beet. Whether from fear, embarrassment, or anger, who knows? Maybe all three.

“What the fuck is wrong with you, putting your hands on her like that?” Troy roars.

“Hey, she’s my?—”

“It was a rhetorical question, dumbass. It’s obvious you’re a fucking creep.” At this, Anthony, clearly recognizing he’s outmatched physically, has the sense to stay quiet. “I should beat your ass and see how you like it.”

A new panic sets in as I watch the scene. Troy could get in big trouble for fighting. He’s already at risk of not being able to play football because of his math grade. If he gets suspended for fighting, I don’t know what will happen.

I step toward them and put my hand on Troy’s shoulder. “Troy, let him go. He’s not worth it.” He doesn’t respond at first, but he eventually drags Anthony into the main part of the hallway and tosses him a few feet away. Anthony struggles to avoid falling, but he gets his bearings.

Troy stands like a sentry between Anthony and me, who, after straightening his hoodie, turns and spits on the floor. Ew. What a degenerate. Not one to leave well enough alone, he looks up at Troy and grins.

“Whatever, you can have the prudish, little dick tease. She’s got a crush on you, so maybe she’ll let you get your dick wet in her be?—”

Anthony doesn’t get to finish speaking before Troy’s fist hits his face.

“Shannon?” The tension in Troy’s voice pulls me back to the present. I step back to give myself some breathing room.

I force a smile to lighten the moment. “No worries. It was an accident.” Troy doesn’t look convinced.

“My twuck gived Mama a boo boo.” Chase holds up the little metal fire truck.

Troy raises a questioning brow.

“There may have been some flailing arms in his excitement to see you as I carried him down the steps.”

Troy’s shoulders and jaw visibly relax. “Sorry about that,” he offers. “I guess we’ll head out.” His cheeks suddenly turn a faint pink color, piquing my curiosity. “Also, I-I’m sorry for touching you. I wasn’t trying to be disrespectful. I just forgot about everything for a minute.”

“It’s okay.” I can’t hold his gaze, so I lean over and kiss Chase on the head. “You be good for Daddy and Grandma and Grandpa. I love you, buddy.”

“I loves you, Mama.”

Troy opens the door and steps outside. I watch him move down the steps to the front walk. As I’m about to close the door, he turns around.

“Hey, Shan?”

“Yeah?”

“You’re gonna kill it today. Don’t doubt that for a second.”

I don’t get a chance to respond before he turns back around and walks away.

It’s been three weeks since Troy and I stood before the judge, who basically declined to grant our divorce until we did a practice run and made certain Troy could live with the financial agreements. Three weeks, and yet I don’t feel significantly better. Today will change that. Being married to Troy came at a cost, and that cost was my professional dream. Something only for me. Today, that all changes. I’m nervous yet eager and excited to start my dream job, even if it is over a decade delayed.

CHAPTER10

TROY

Chase must’ve had a tiring morning because, within five minutes of us getting in the car, he was out like a light. It’s a good thing, too, because I’m frazzled. I’m kicking myself that I didn’t tell Shannon how pretty she looks today. Pretty doesn’t even begin to describe it—she looked gorgeous. I wanted to comment on her hair and how much I loved it. I wanted to run my fingers through it and cup the back of her head with my hand while I drank her in. I don’t know that she’s ever grasped how perfect she is.

Her hair is like the sweetest color of rich chocolate, and I get lost sometimes in her eyes, mesmerized by the color, deep pools of coffee with the perfect amount of cream lightening them. Not to mention how she looked in that fucking skirt and heels. I never imagined I would be standing like a stranger in the foyer of the home we had shared, looking at my stunning wife and not being able to say anything, not able to get my words out.

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