Page 40 of At My Worst

“Once in a while would be nice,” I argue.

“We go out.”

“The bar that I own doesn’t count, Britt. I actually want to take you out. What is the big deal?” I ask, trying to figure her out.

“I don’t know what you want from me.”

“I want you to want to fucking be with me,” I say passionately.

“I do, just not all the time.”

“We are just going around in fucking circles,” I concede.

“You sound like him, you know. You are going to be just like him, Alex,” she says, standing up.

Her words cut deeper than I will let her see.

If I am a bad fucking guy for actually wanting to spend time with her, then so fucking be it.

She shakes her head and leaves the house, slamming the door behind her.

Fuck me, man. She is confusing as fuck, and for the life of me, I don’t understand what the fuck I am doing wrong.

I just can’t fucking win with her.

I open my eyes and look at the clock, which says it is five.

My phone buzzes, and I see Bianca’s name across the screen; I swipe and open her message.

Bianca:I’ll be right there. Just have to finish one note.

Take your time, baby. I’m outside.

Bianca:Okay, I will be done in just a few.

Don’t forget your jacket.

Bianca::-)

I hear her front door close and turn to watch her walk toward me with her jacket in her hand. Her hair is down and curled, and she is wearing a sweatshirt and joggers. That was way quicker than a few minutes.

I smile as she climbs into the truck and shuts the door. “Hey,” I say, watching her get comfortable.

I have no words to explain what having her riding as a passenger in my truck does to me. Fuck, she looks good in my truck, that’s all I know.

“Hey, sorry. I had to get my last client note done,” she apologizes.

“No worries,” I reply. She doesn’t need to explain herself to me, but I appreciate her willingness to do so.

“Were you out here long?” She asks in a concerned voice.

“No, not really.”

“Okay, good,” she says, sitting back in the seat.

I turn on the truck and put it in drive, pulling onto the road heading out of town. I reach over and rest my hand on her knee, and she rests her hand on top of mine, making the memory I just had minutes ago fade away like it never happened at all.

I need her like a fucking drug, one that brings me peace and silences the storm that rages inside me whenever I am not with her.

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