Page 14 of LOT 62

-Maddox-

Xaviheldupapair of motocross pants and raised his brow at me.

“No. I don’t wear purple. I’m gay enough as it is.” I put them back on the rack.

“What makes purple gay?” he scoffed. “I like purple.”

Foreshadowing if I’d ever heard it.

“Black and red. Those are my colours,” I stated. “I’ll get the purple bullshit for Devon.”

“Yeah, if you ever talk to him again.” Xavi rolled his eyes and kept walking down the aisle.

I followed, needing to defend myself. “I’m allowed to be pissed at him, Xavi. Don’t make me feel like shit about this.”

“I know you’re allowed to be pissed at him,” he said. “But it’s been two days, man. He’s dying not being able to talk to you.”

At least he knew what it felt like every damn day for me. I didn’t want to be petty, but I was. Devon needed to learn a hard and fast lesson. Unfortunately, the lesson was that I was a needy idiot and he wasn’t meeting my needs. Hated that I even had needs.

“Don’t be an asshole about this. He fucked up, and he knows it, so let him back in.”

“You giving out relationship advice now? Shit, I didn’t realize you’d ever been in one.” This prick thought he knew shit? He didn’t.

“Haven’t fucked shit up with Nate yet,” he laughed. “But also, fuck you. I see this drama from the outside. I see how much you’re both hurting right now because you love each other and you miss him. You can be mad and still be around him, Madd. That’s basically your default setting anyway, so go home.”

“It’s not that easy,” I said, wandering an aisle just because. “He forgets I even exist sometimes, and I'm sick of it.”

What was the point of being in a relationship if we never saw each other? I loved that asshole more than anything in the world, but was love enough? It couldn’t just be one-sided.

“He doesn’t forget about you. Ever. He just sucks at prioritizing. He works his ass off all day, and I’m pretty sure he does itforyou.”

“For me?” I scoffed.

“Yeah! He wants to provide for you. You’ve done everything for him, and this is the only way he knows how to give it back to you.”

I shook my head at that. “It’s not a competition.” Which was weird because everything else in our life was. “I don’t need him to provide for me. I’ve lived with nothing forever. I just need him.”

“Then go fucking see him! Stop being stubborn. Go talk it out with him, not me.” Xavi tossed a pair of motocross gloves at me. “And buy him those. His are ripped to shit.”

I bought the damn gloves, but I wasn’t sure I’d ever give them to him. He’d probably see it as something else I did for him he’d have to repay. I needed to knock that lame thought from his head.

It took a lot of pride-squashing, but Sunday afternoon, I walked into our trailer to hash this out with Devon. But he wasn’t home, which pissed me off and hurt me at the same time. Did I really expect him to just sit around and wait for me? Of course he wouldn’t. He’d be out there, doing whatever the hell he wanted, just waiting for me to man up and come crawling back to him. Well, screw that. If he wanted me, he could be the one to come looking.

I grabbed some work clothes and walked back to my mom’s place. I’d stay with her for one more night, and then I was going home whether Devon was there or not.

I’dbarelysleptsinceI left home. My mind wouldn’t shut up. I felt weird sleeping in a place without Devon, and I constantly wondered if I was the one screwing everything up. Had I made a huge mistake by walking out on him to give myself space?

It was late, but I couldn’t sleep. The phone Devon gave me pinged on the nightstand, lighting up the ceiling.

Dipshit Devon:You okay? I miss you.

I read it fifteen times, choking on emotion each time. The bubbles showed up like he’d send another message, but they disappeared just as quickly. I missed him, too. So much it hurt, but I didn’t know how to suck up my pride and walk across the park again to be with him. It sucked being aware of my stubbornness, but not knowing how to tame it.

Ten minutes later, as I was typing out my reply for the hundredth time, I heard his voice. He said something to my mom, and my whole body bristled with a mix of relief and nerves. I put the phone down and stayed there, waiting to see if he’d come in. Had I ever been more nervous?

The door opened, and Devon blocked the sliver of light with his body. He stood there looking as vulnerable as he did the first night he slept in my bed, and that broke me a little. I hurt him as much as his dad did. I couldn’t bring myself to say anything to him, maybe because my guilt was too strong, but we stared at each other without needing the words yet. All I wanted was to touch him, hug him, hold him, or maybe fight him. It was hard to tell what my feelings meant sometimes, but Devon had never struggled to understand me.

“Can I stay here with you?” he asked softly, waiting to be denied.

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