Page 87 of Finding Their Place

It was close to eleven, but I texted anyway, hoping to bring some sort of closure to the situation between us as well.

Me: I’m sorry for what went down with you and Garrett this morning. He’s here at my house btw. I’m also sorry for leaving like I did. I know you hate liars and being abandoned. We both failed you. I could say I wanted to go back and do things differently, but that would be a lie. If that makes me a bad person, then I’m the worst because I can’t regret our night together. I’ll understand if you can’t forgive me, if the shit I pulled is too much to overcome.

Out of words, I dropped my cell to my lap, my stomach in knots over knowing I had yet another answer to wait for.

My chest tightened, and I rubbed at it, powerless to make shit right for any of us. There were a million more things I wanted to say to her, to beg for another chance, the opportunity to set things straight, but I decided to give her time to work shit out and respond on her own volition.

Two agonizing days later, I was still checking my cell every five minutes, the pain fresh as ever in my heart.

“Nothing?” Garrett asked as I eyed my cell and rubbed over my pecs.

“No.”

He leaned forward to grab another slice of pizza from the box we’d brought home with us. “I enjoyed laying the last of the block today,” he said, and I decided to follow his lead and take my mind off Haley and all the things I’d fucked up.

We’d been working on a patio the previous couple of days. I’d shown Garrett on Tuesday morning how to measure out the area and set the dry lines that would keep our progress straight to create something beautiful when we finished.

“You’re settling into the landscaping business like you were born for it,” I told him, more thankful than he knew for having him as an employee.

“It’s rewarding as fuck.”

I actually grinned while helping myself to another piece of pizza.

“Never thought working with my hands like this would be so satisfying.”

“What about having your name in lights?” I had to ask since he’d told me all his reasons for moving to California. He had even shared about his asshole ex and the mistake he’d made that landed him on Haley’s steps.

The reasons for his lying to her.

“I’ve come to realize that I don’t give a shit about being an actor,” Garrett said around a mouthful of food. “If Hollywood is anything like Alec—and it sure as fuck seems like it considering all the shade I got tossed my way just from his word alone—I’m fucking done with that shit.”

“I can’t say I’m sorry to hear that, because their loss is totally my gain. I’m thankful as fuck to have you by my side.”

Garrett shot me a grin, the first one that seemed relaxed. Happy even.

And my heart swelled in my chest.

Garrett had turned out to be one hell of a workhorse, sweat soaking his shirts and never seeming to grow tired beneath the hot California sun. The flex of his forearms and bulging biceps while laboring alongside me to lay all those pavers had proved fucking impossible to ignore. I drooled almost as much as I dripped sweat from my brow.

Sexual tension had slipped into place the first day we’d shared coffee in the kitchen before work, both of us attempting to ignore the reappearance of morning wood at the sight of the other. And that shit had lingered all through the day.

And the next.

Right up through the devouring of our pizza.

He had showered first, taking longer than necessary.

I’d taken my time cleaning the day’s grime from my body but didn’t jerk off.

And within seconds of finishing our dinner and sitting back on the couch beside him, I wished like fuck I had.

The scent of my bodywash on him made my mouth water, and I wondered how long it would be before one of us snapped, breaking to the obvious lust between us regardless of Haley’s absence.

“I love how that patio turned out,” Garrett said, his gaze on the TV. “We did that. Our hands. Our sweat.” Pride laced his words, but I couldn’t help rib him a bit.

“It turned out gorgeous because you have a kickass foreman telling you what to do,” I teased—and fished just a little bit.

“You’re a good dry line. I like it when you boss me around.”

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