Page 48 of Rough
Mom shoved sandwiches and a pitcher of lemonade out the door when it was time to eat, not allowing us inside since she’s got the kitchen filled to the brim with food stuff for tomorrow.
“You know, we got a lot of money sittin’ in the bank from all the sponsors and stuff. I have no problem just cuttin’ a check and handin’ it over tonight.” Wilder’s suggestion breaks the silence.
Acid hits the back of my throat, thinking about paying all that money out. Not that she doesn’t deserve it, but still, seeing that much disappear is a hard pill to swallow. I answer the only way that’s right, though.
“I’m good with that. But not tonight. Mom said to leave her be. Monday. We’ll settle our debt with Bets on Monday. We all gotta agree, though.” I look at Clyde, who hasn’t said a word all day since we left the house.
Pulling the brim lower over his eyes, he picks at something on the ground, then mumbles, “I’m fine with that.”
My mind whirls for the remainder of the day until I finally fall into bed late into the evening. Mom kept us so busy that I barely had a chance to think about Betsy and the hole we’ve dug with her. Just as I’m drifting off, I hear a soft knock at my door. Growling, I push myself up from the bed and wrench the door open.
Fucking Trina. She’s standing outside in barely there sleep clothes and her hand raised like she’s ready to knock again.
“Rem.” Her voice is breathless, and I frown, hating the way she says my name and the fact that she’s keeping me from sleeping.
I let my head fall to the door frame, pinching my nose in frustration. Christ, I’m so fucking tired and I want nothing more than to pass out for a few hours before tomorrow. “What do you need, Trina?”
“Oh, Remy,” she coos. I raise a brow and glance at her hand when she rests it on my arm. “You’ve had such a tough week. I wanted to see if there’s something I can do for you. Anything you need or want to make all of this easier?”
I swear, I know I should be picking up on her hint, but my brain is absolutely done for the day. “Uh, no? Nothin’ I can think of. I just need sleep.” Moving to shut my door, I add, “I’ll see ya in the mornin’.”
Her hand smacks the wood to keep me from closing it on her, stopping me from saying good night, and she actually takes a step into my room.
“Maybe I can help you with that? You boys worked all day outside. I could work those knots out for you.” Winking at me, she wiggles her fingers in my face. “I’ve been told I’m real good with my hands.”
Jerking my head back in surprise, her offer kicks my brain back online quickly. Fast enough that I know I need to get her out of herenow. “Yeah, that’s not gonna happen. Go on back to your room. I appreciate the offer, but I’m not interested.”
I understand that I’ve been sexualized on social media, but I’m not one of those guys who has random hook ups just to sleep around. Never have been. The relationship my parents have…hadtogether set the bar high for what I want in my future.
“Come on, Remy. We’ve known each other for so long. You have to know that I’ve always been interested in seeing where things could go between us. Let me be here for you. Let me be your support.” Stepping closer, she wraps up her little speech. “I’m here foryou.”
My head starts shaking before she finishes. “Sorry, but no. I’m not tryin’ to hurt your feelin’s here, Trina. But I’m not interested. It’s never gonna happen.”
“But—” Her mouth snaps shut, and tears form when I hold up my hand to cut her off, then reach over her to push the door all the way open.
“I need some sleep. I’ll see you in the mornin’.” Honestly, I don’t think I could have been clearer with her. After a moment of studying me, she nods her head sharply and runs out of my room.
Blowing out a breath, I shut the door softly, then fall into bed face first. A touch of guilt hits for so obviously hurting her feelings, but I’m not going to force myself to go there when everything is screaming she’s not the one for me.
A long, blonde braid hanging over a graceful shoulder, slightly hidden by a low-riding cowboy hat flickers to the forefront of my thoughts before a dream filled sleep keeps me under for the next six hours. Dreams of laughter, glittering blue eyes, grassy fields, sweet kisses, and slow dances on the side of a gravel road.
Gentle hands run across my upper back, forcing me to blink my eyes open against the early morning light. Groaning, I turn my face into my pillow and will myself back into the warm embrace that my sleep cocooned me in all night.
“Remington, sweetheart. It’s time to get up and start gettin’ ready. We have a big day today.” Mom’s sweet voice pulls me further toward the land of the living, along with the dull sound of a car door slamming. Patting my back, mom pulls away. “That must be Betsy with the cakes. Come down for breakfast.”
Realization dawns on me that today is the day we’re burying my father. A lead ball settles deep in my stomach, my heart aching to have it be any other day than this one.
Jerking my head up, what mom said fully registers, and seeing Betsy is the only good thing about today. Even if she hates me with the full force of a raging hailstorm, her being here means that life is still happening around us. I shove myself off the bed and yank fresh clothes on, then run to the bathroom to brush my teeth quickly, then I throw some water on my face.
“…can help you find something appropriately fitting for today, if you want. You know, girl to girl.” Trina’s voice is extra grating this morning and I ignore whatever she’s saying as I enter the kitchen.
Mom is mumbling something under her breath, clearly annoyed, and Betsy is standing in front of Trina, arms crossed over her chest and head tilted to the side with a superficial smile. Trina doesn’t see the smile for the warning it is, so I decide to rescue her only for mom’s sake today.
“Mornin’ ladies.” All eyes turn to me, Trina’s filled with longing now that I know what she wants from me, and Betsy’s filled with suspicion and, sadly, disgust. “Bets,” I say, nodding at her and offering a bit of a smile.
“Remy,” Trina purrs. “How’d you sleep after I saw you last night?”
Betsy doesn’t react to Trina’s obvious implication other than to raise a questioning brow, like she’s asking if Ireallywent there. Shaking my head only slightly, I let her know it’s not what she thinks. When she opens her mouth, I brace myself for whatever she has to say, then find myself disappointed.
