Page 112 of Saving Ren
“Good girl,” Jess says with a smile. “You better let me get you home and sort this shit. She sounds like my kind of girl, I wanna be able to get drunk with her one of these days.”
I want that. I want my family to know her, for her to know them, and as much as it scares the shit out of me, I know what I need to do to make that happen.
“You’ll love her,” I tell Jess, not caring even a little bit that my brother is hearing all of this. “She’s as funny as fuck, can’t sing to save her life, dunks her toast in her coffee, has the best comebacks, and is miserable in the mornings. . .”
“But instead of crying over today’s events, she got drunk. My kind of girl,” Jess says.
“She probably criedandgot drunk.”
“Still my kinda girl.”
* * *
Cooper drivesmy car back to my place; Jess follows behind in hers. Luckily, she has a spare key to my place on her car keys because I get no response when I knock at the door. When I make my way upstairs, I find an empty wine bottle on the kitchen bench, a half-empty bottle of vodka on the bedside table, and a passed-out Lauren in my bed.
She’s makeup-free, damp hair piled on her head and already in her pyjamas. Even with her eyes closed, I can see she’s been crying. The pile of tissues on the bed next to her add another twist to the knot of guilt in my gut.
Sitting beside her, the adrenaline rush that had been with me since I left, finally fades and a wave of tiredness hits me.
I have a site meeting in the city at seven tomorrow, then brunch with a client. I promised Lauren I’d be back here in time to give her a lift to Red Hill for her 2 o’clock client walk-through. It’s doable, but it’s not going to give us any time to talk until tomorrow evening.
I’d rather we get our shit sorted now, but, knowing that’s not going to happen, I take a quick shower and climb into bed beside Lauren.
I stare at the ceiling unable to sleep with the day’s events replaying on a loop through my head.
My brother and Jess are right, if I want to keep her, I need to take a chance, put myself out there, and tell her my truths.
Feeling absolutely terrified for what’s to come, I finally fall asleep.
When my alarm wakes me in the morning, it’s still dark outside, and Lauren is still sleeping. The only good thing about the last part of yesterday, is that as soon as I climbed into bed, she wrapped herself around me, and before I can climb out of it this morning, I have to gently untangle her arms and legs from over me.
Chapter 28
Lauren
Keeping my eyes closed,I listen to Gabe move around the bedroom. I didn’t hear him come home last night, but I woke a couple of times and felt his presence.
After a mostly great day, yesterday ended spectacularly badly. I behaved like a brat. Gabe, in turn, behaved like an absolute dick and scared the crap out of me. I know it wasn’t intentional, and I still truly believe he would never hurt me, but right at that moment, his level of anger freaked me out, and I just needed to get away from him. I’m not sure how I feel about all of that. Our argument seems petty in the cold light of day, and yet, he still lost his shit to a level that he was throwing furniture around.
For my part, I behaved the way that I did out of pure frustration. Wine followed by an Espresso Martini also egged me on from the side lines. Neither of them is any excuse for my behaviour, but I’m so over Gabe constantly banging on about how I frustrate him when he just wasn’t getting how he mademefeel yesterday.
I appreciate it’s still early days between us, but he already knows so much about me. He’s explained the circumstances surrounding his marriage. Still, I’ve always felt there’s something else, some kind of trauma or event that happened in his past. Whenever I get close to asking him to share, he steers the conversation away and onto a different subject, usually switching it all back to being about me.
I smell the clean, fresh scent of him before I feel his body sit gently on the bed next to me. Keeping my eyes closed, I enjoy the soothing sensation of his fingers brushing my hair from my face. After my shower, I’d piled it on top of my head, and after drinking myself into oblivion, climbed into bed with it wet last night. His touch feels good but does nothing to ease the pounding headache I’ve woken up with.
He leans in and kisses my temple, and I open my eyes to meet the dark blue of his looking right at me.
His hand stills, his eyes trail a cautious path over my face before settling back on mine.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers.
“I know. I’m sorry too.” I reach out and wrap my arms around his neck and pull him into me. He exhales slowly. I can feel the tension leave his body right along with his breath. I hold him against me and breathe him in.
“I’m creasing your shirt,” I finally say as I try to pull away.
“I don’t care, I’ve got twenty others, but I have to get going.”
He kisses my temple, then the top of my head.
