Page 55 of Wild Eyes
It could be all the action and change and lack of sleep recently, but the minute I walked to the barn and he smiled at me, I felt a weight lift off my shoulders.
His smug smile insinuated he knew I couldn’t resist a queen-size bed, but I didn’t even mind.
I didn’t mind when he offered to go back to the bunkhouse with me to get Cherry. I also didn’t mind when he led me up the stairs to the first door on the right. Or when he told me to sleep tight and not let the bedbugs bite.
At first, I’d recoiled at the mention of bedbugs, but from what little I know of West, I assumed it was a joke. Or something he tells his kids. The sentiment was charming and fatherly and somehow made me feel safe.
As I slipped into cool, fresh sheets that smelled of laundry detergent, I truly let myself appreciate the type of person West is.
The type of man.
He wanted me to feel better for me,not for him. He wanted me safe under his roof, but he didn’t force my hand. He let me make my own decision.
And that was refreshing.
Did I consider staying in the bunkhouse just to prove a point?
Fuck yes, I did.
But I didn’t want to punish myself to win an argument in my head with a guy who’d be smirking at me the next morning anyway.
It felt good not to fight. Good enough that I slept until…I turn and glance at the nightstand where the small brass clock shows 10:45 a.m.
I blink a few times before sitting up and muttering, “That can’t be right.”
My fists press against my eye sockets, rotating gently to rub the sleep away. The pain reminds me of my face-to-face with a ball, though, so I stop and glance over at Cherry.
She quirks her head at me and blinks her black, bead-like eyes.
“Did you sleep as well as I did, Cherry?”
“Feed me” is the demand I get back. She’s always bitchier when she’s hungry.
“Okay, okay. Let’s go find you something.” I kick my feet out of bed, place them flat on the hardwood floor, and reach around the bed, in search of my phone in the sheets. That’s usually where it is because I spend my nights scrolling gossip sites until I fall asleep. Then I wake up and need to plug it in, followed by checking my name alerts.
Today, I don’t find it.
What I find is a flash of annoyance, followed by a flood of relief.
I don’t need to check…because Ican’t.
I sit with that knowledge for a minute, breathing it in and breathing it out. Next, I remove Cherry from her cage, let her climb up my arm to my shoulder, and make my way downstairs.
I don’t even look at myself in the mirror on the way past. I already know I’m going to look very, very bruised. And I’m just vain enough to know I’d rather not see it.
Once downstairs, I take a peek around. “West? Hello? You here?”
“Feed me. Feed me.” The bird bobs and does a fake pecking motion on my cheek.
Cherry may be a snarky bitch, but she’s never bitten me. Only other people.
Still, when the clock in the kitchen confirms that it is indeed almost 11 a.m., I opt not to take my chances. Deciding her pellets can wait, I head straight for the fruit bowl on the counter and peel a banana.
She practically lunges for it the moment it’s open. While she eats, I hold it in place for her and stare at the spot where the glass broke the other day. Where West showed his true colors and made me confused enough to kiss him later like a colossal idiot.
The kiss he teases me about.
Because we’re friends.
