30. Chapter 27
K nowing Banks was on the other side of my door set me on edge. I never thought he would come here, not after everything he’s said to me, but I wondered.
A part of me hoped.
After grilling Koda about what my dad, Creed, and possibly Diego said to him, he promised me it wasn’t much and told me not to worry. He asked if I was hungry and then made us a late dinner that we’re eating on the couch, in front of the TV, where he selected some trash reality show that’s making us laugh.
After we’re done, Koda asks the questions I expected earlier, and I’m not surprised he finally can’t hold them in.
“So all those men are related to you somehow?” He asks with a little hesitation.
I chuckle, how in the hell do I make this make sense?
“Creed is like my Uncle. He isn’t related to us, but he’s been there since before my mother died. He has memories of her that I’ll never get tired of hearing.”
Koda smiles, “He’s the big one with the dark haired woman, Fern. Right?”
I nod, “Fern and Creed have been together for over two years now. They had a rocky start, but I couldn’t imagine anyone except her for him. She’s been one of the best people in the world to me and the guys. Something we didn’t realize we were missing.”
“She seems very invested in your happiness,” Koda says.
“She is,” I chuckle, “and Diego–the angry looking one–is Banks’s dad. His brother, Nile, is Toby and Talon’s dad.” I hope I haven’t lost him. It’s a hard subject to tackle when I don’t want to tell a story that’s not mine to tell.
“And you all just, what, live in the same house?”
That’s a hard question to answer, “Yes, but it’s basically a mansion. Creed built it after he married Fern the first time–which is a long, complicated story that isn’t really my business sharing–and they all work together, so it just makes sense to live there.” I hope he doesn’t ask what they do because that’s definitely not something I can tell him. I wouldn’t even know how to begin.
“It sounds complicated, but basically, you have your dad and three uncles?”
“Yeah, exactly.” I laugh. The dynamic sounds so strange, but thinking about it makes me happy. I’m not sure I would be where I am without each of them. After that, Koda doesn’t ask any more questions about the family. Instead, we talk more about him and his interests.
It’s probably one of the best nights I’ve had in a while.
I fall asleep feeling better than I have in weeks, in my own bed, without a six-foot-four, sex on a stick man, brooding three feet from me.
It’s peaceful.
Lonely but necessary.
Painting my room should give me something else to focus on, but it’s so quiet in the apartment this morning that all I can hear are my racing thoughts. Koda promised me last night that he would help when he got done at the cafe. He’s really good company, especially after last night. I wish I could keep my thoughts from cycling through question after question about what he is doing with her . It does me no good to wonder, and it’s actually worse because my brain conjures images to go along with everything I ask.
Each one is worse than the last, making me feel sick to my stomach.
Pouring the gray paint into one of the throw away plastic trays is easy enough. Not spilling it when I try to stop pouring, now that’s a fun time. Paint drips down onto the plastic liner I’d placed over the carpet. I need to remember to thank Dad for that.
Locating my bluetooth speaker, I crank some music up and start painting. Dipping the roller into the paint, I roll it against the pan to coat the whole thing before pressing it against the wall and losing all track of time.
Singing along to the songs that shuffle through my playlist, I work until everything is rolled, and the only thing left is to trim around the molding and outlets.
Laughter pulls me out of my concert for one, and I turn, feeling my cheeks burn. Koda’s standing in the doorway, laughter on his lips and food in his hands. I hadn’t realized how much time had passed.
“Keep going, H. Those moves are stage worthy,” he says through a smile that crinkles his eyes and makes a dimple pop in his cheek.
“These moves?” I laugh, starting to dance again to the beat of a pop song. Reaching out to him, I pull him into the room and dance harder. Setting down the bag he must have picked up from the cafe, he joins me.
We’re spinning and jumping around, belting out lyrics, some of which I have to make up because I can’t remember them, and he laughs. Throwing him a paintbrush of his own to sing into, he cracks up and then sings into the bristles loud and decidedly much better than me.
When the song ends, we’re both gasping for breath and smiling like fools. He steps closer, eyes roaming my face, and my heart starts beating so fast I feel like I may fall over. He’s so close I can see how his eyebrow separates from a small scar, an injury he must have gotten a long time ago.
I can see the way his neck bobs as he swallows, and every time my chest rises, it brushes his. I can’t remember when he got that close, but now that he’s here, I can’t help but stare at him, biting down on my bottom lip. Nerves ignite in my belly as his eyes close, and he leans down to let his lips graze mine.
Our breath mingles, and I freeze.
“If this isn’t…”
I move forward, closing the minuscule gap between us, and kiss him. His lips are tentative as if he’s worried I’ll change my mind. Dropping the paint brush, I place my hand on his neck, my thumb stroking his cheek.
He pulls back, his hand going to where mine rests on the column of his neck. “If you’re not ready, I understand. It’s only been a week, and I know things are complicated with…”
“My ex,” I supply because that’s what Banks is. He’s my ex -boyfriend, and I think he has to stay that way this time.
“If you’re not looking for anything serious, that’s okay, but tell me now, please,” his eyes bounce between mine, waiting for an answer. “Because I think you’re worth falling for Henry.”
His words startle me and begin to repair something buried so deep that I didn’t realize had been broken to begin with.
My self-worth.
For the first time since Banks shattered my future and my heart, I feel like it’s possible to live without him.