37. Peyton
PEYTON
I’m coming apart at the seams, pacing the floor from my bedroom to the front door and back again for the hundredth time.
It’s media day. Daltyn was a mess when he left.
I can only imagine how it’s going.
My phone buzzes in my hands.
Allie: How are you holding up?
My fingers fly across the screen.
Me: Spiraling. Hard.
Allie: I’m coming to pick you up. We can browse the bookstore and go get coffee and pastries.
Me: You’re my hero.
Allie: I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.
I hurry into the bathroom and plug in my curling iron. I quickly brush my teeth and wash my face. Hell, I can’t even remember if I showered today.
I swipe deodorant underneath my arms and dash to my bedroom to put on the new jeans and sweater Daltyn bought me. Grabbing my perfume, I spray it on my pulse points, then dash to the bathroom to do something with my hair.
Ten minutes later, my hair hangs in loose waves, and I’ve even put on powder, mascara, lipstick, and blush before the doorbell rings.
I grab my purse and stride to the door, grinning when I see Allie’s face.
“You look gorgeous,” she says with a smile.
“Thanks. Considering all the social media attention, the last thing I want to do is step out looking like a wreck. God only knows what the heathens would blame it on. Probably Daltyn.”
I shut and lock the door, then follow her to her vehicle.
“Heathens is accurate as fuck. They are the worst.” She unlocks her car, and we climb inside. “I married Connor over the summer so I didn’t have to deal with as much of the media frenzy. There were things online, obviously. But Connor is different from Daltyn.”
She starts the car, then glances at me before turning around. “No one has seen Daltyn with a woman before you.”
“That just seems... strange.”
But when I think about the way he appeared in my bedroom after the nightmare, maybe it’s not.
Maybe Gram is right. The man has a traumatic past and has steered clear of women.
Which makes me wonder why .
Did a woman hurt him in the past? Or is it something else?
She shrugs. “Daltyn has always kept things close to his chest. He doesn’t open up easily.” She laughs as she drives down the lane. “Or at all.”
I stare at the leaves, which are changing more by the day. I really need to start taking walks and enjoying them more. I didn’t have the luxury of witnessing the change in seasons living in Florida. But here, even the air smells different in the fall.
“Yeah, I noticed.”
I don’t elaborate. I respect his privacy and, in some ways, understand it.
I don’t talk about my parents’ death or living with my grandparents... well, except to Daltyn. But that was only because I was panicking. I just saw the wreckage that used to be my apartment, and it brought it all back.
Suddenly, I started crying and babbling, telling him how my parents died and my grandparents raised me. They passed away during my first year in college.
Leaving me with no one.
The destruction from the storm brought it all back.
Once again, I had nothing.
Even though possessions are nothing like loved ones.
I’d trade a hurricane hitting my apartment and workplace all over again if it meant I could at least have my grandparents back.
Hell, I’d sell my soul to the devil if I could have my parents and grandparents back.
Allie starts telling me about the first time she met Connor and how he nearly took her head off with a hockey stick. I knew they had an unusual meeting, but had no idea it was that chaotic .
I hold my stomach, laughing as she then tells me how she and Connor missed the flight to Vegas because of Gram’s antics (not surprising) and the pink bug Connor drove, followed by the station wagon that looked identical to the one in National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation.
By the time she’s finished, I’m laughing so hard I’m crying, and completely relaxed for the first time in days.
“Oh my gosh. That’s hilarious.”
“We certainly had an interesting beginning,” Allie says with a smile. “I wouldn’t trade it—or him—for the world.”
A pang of envy rolls through me. You can hear the love and admiration in her voice.
It’s evident how much Connor loves her. It’s obvious in the way he looks at her. He practically worships the ground she walks on.
I turn my face away, staring at the quaint downtown shops.
Will I ever have someone who looks at me the way he does her? Someone I care about as much as Allie loves Connor?
Daltyn’s face flashes through my mind.
I push it away.
As much as I’ve enjoyed being with Daltyn, and as comfortable as I feel around him, I know this isn’t real. He was just trying to protect me and ended up in a fake relationship that he doesn’t want.
A wave of pain rolls through my chest.
Stop it.
You’ve been around this guy for months. You know how he is. Relationship avoidance.
And nothing will change that.
Not even me.
So why do I suddenly feel like crying?
I’m carrying a bag of books in one hand, breathing in the cool, afternoon air. This is exactly what I needed. Time spent with Allie talking and laughing as we browsed a bookstore, then a clothing store, and even a thrift shop.
The scent of espresso and pastries hits me the second I step inside Pine & Steam.
It smells like espresso, cinnamon, and cedarwood.
The entire café looks like somebody took a luxury ski lodge and shrunk it into a cozy mountain-town coffee shop.
Warm amber lights hang from exposed wooden beams while steam curls through the air from the espresso machines behind the counter.
A massive stone fireplace crackles near the corner seating area, and every table near the windows overlooks endless pine trees stretching across the mountainside.
Luckily, there’s no one else inside except the employees, which makes me breathe a sigh of relief.
I pull my phone from my pocket and text Daltyn. I’m not sure what time he’ll be home, but I don’t want him to worry if he gets there before me.
Home.
That should bother me to think that. Especially since we’re only temporary—and so is my staying at his cabin.
Me: I’m with Allie. Be home in a little bit. Hope Media Day went okay.
I hit send, wondering why I typed that last bit. Daltyn hates the media, and with all the attention on us, I’m sure it’ll be pure hell.
The same barista is behind the counter. His name tag says Tony. He’s tall with dark hair and eyes. He’s thinner than Daltyn, like he spends more time running instead of playing hockey.
He gives me a smile. “Hello again.”
Allie’s eyes bore into the side of my face, but I pretend not to notice.
“Hi.” I blush, remembering the way Daltyn stared him down the last time we were here.
“I put extra caramel in your coffee just for you,” he says as he holds the drink out to me.
I step forward, my cheeks heating. “Thanks. You didn’t have to.”
He chuckles. “I remembered. That’s what makes me good at my job.”
Judging by the way he’s looking at me, remembering had nothing to do with customer service.
Our fingers graze when I take the cup from him. It’s not the same reaction that I have when Daltyn touches me. At all.
There’s no spark. No butterflies in my stomach.
I step back, standing beside Allie as she waits for her order.
“Where do you want to sit?”
I look around and gesture toward a table in the back. “This works for me.”
As we slide into the booth, Allie’s eyes are on the barista. “He seems really friendly... toward you.”
I blush harder. “Yeah. He was friendly when I was in here with Daltyn.”
Her eyes widen. “Bet that went over well.”
I take a sip of my coffee before telling her how Daltyn reacted.
She laughs. “I’m not surprised.”
I roll my eyes, my spine stiffening when a group of girls enters the coffee shop. Their eyes land on me, and three of the girls start whispering.
Allie turns to see what has me distracted.
“Oh, shit,” she murmurs. “If they come over here, I’m telling them off.”
“That’ll probably make it worse,” I whisper back. “Maybe if we ignore them, they’ll go away.”
They approach the register, chattering excitedly to the cashier. She looks over at me.
I have a really bad feeling about this.
I’m so distracted by them that when I reach for my pastry, I hit my elbow on the table. I jerk back from the pain, sending my drink toppling to the floor, spilling everywhere. Allie manages to catch hers before it suffers the same fate.
I look despondently at it, listening to the girls’ whispers and laughter growing louder. Humiliation washes over me.
This is going to end up on social media.
Tony hurries over, towels and a mop in hand. “I got you,” he says as he begins cleaning it up.
“Oh... thank you.” I tear my eyes from the girls and look at him. “I appreciate it.”
He smiles, swiftly cleaning up my mess.
When he leaves, I give Allie an embarrassed smile. “I’m so sorry. You must think I’m a klutz.”
She shakes her head. “Not at all. It happens.” She shrugs like it’s no big deal.
Tony strides over to our table again, a big smile on his face. “Here you go. A fresh coffee. On the house.” He holds it out for me.
“Oh, um.” I bite my lip, shifting uncomfortably. “You didn’t have to. ”
He leans down, his smile growing wider. “I know. But I wanted to. It's not every day I meet someone like you.”
The bell over the door jingles again.
The air shifts, and I feel him before I see him.
“Get the fuck away from my girlfriend,” Daltyn says in a loud, authoritative voice, silencing the coffee shop.
Oh, fuck.
Even though part of me wishes the floor would open and swallow me, the other part is insanely turned on.
A stupid little voice in my brain chimes in, adding to the insanity.
He called you his girlfriend.