Chapter 30
Kaylee
I waited, sitting on the bed for hours for him to come back inside.
I even peeked out of the bedroom, but I didn't get invited to the small party they all seemed to be having downstairs.
It hurt me even when I knew I had no right to feel any sort of way for being excluded.
This is why I tried to convince myself when I woke up this morning that last night was a fluke. Telling our life stories meant nothing.
It didn't matter that he wanted to track Troy down and punch him in the face for hurting me. The man is a defender of women, and Troy hurt me more than once. In Ellis's eyes, hurting the man who hurt a woman was just what he is supposed to do.
His not coming up and spending time with me or inviting me to join them isn't a way for him to hurt me, despite how it makes me feel. I know I have no right to their celebration, but that doesn't make it hurt any less.
I'm not a stranger to being left out of things, but it's not on him to know that about my history, despite the confessions I made last night.
Instead of dwelling on it as much as my mind is trying to make me, I take a quick shower and get into bed.
The insulation in the house is so great, I know I can't hear what's going on in other parts of the house, but that doesn't stop my mind from creating situations where I hear laughter and voices.
When the bedroom door opens a few hours later, I pretend to be asleep, wishing that I cared a lot less and was actually capable of just letting all of this slide right off my shoulders.
I keep my eyes closed when he goes into the bathroom, but the sound of the shower running activates something more than the memories we shared there. My body aches for his, but I blame it on the residual insecurities of never really being touched in a loving way by a man who didn't cater to his own needs rather than mine. Even last night, he kept his distance, and other than touching my face twice, he kept his hands to himself.
I'm stock-still, breath shallow and as even as I can make them when he comes back into the room and wordlessly climbs into the bed.
He spends a few minutes lying beside me, but after what seems like an eternity, he lines himself up at my back and drapes his arm over my hip.
I know he has to feel me stiffen in his embrace because I'm absolutely floored that he's touching me at all, but he doesn't say anything.
I'm lulled into some skin-deep level of comfort, the warmth of his body behind mine almost like a balm on the itch I haven't been able to scratch since I met him.
It doesn't last long.
He pulls in a deep breath, and on the exhale, I can smell the alcohol on his breath. It's not an uncomfortable scent, and it doesn't trigger any sort of fight or flight. It does make me realize that I don't know him well enough to picture him holding a certain brand of beer in his hand. Does he like mixed drinks? Is he a from-the-tap-only kind of guy? Does he drink often?
I don't know the answers to any of these questions because I don't really know him other than the few things he shared with me this week.
"My boss thinks you're safe," he whispers, and I can tell by the low tone that he thinks I'm asleep.
He's speaking but I don't think he's expecting me to comment back or even remember in the morning. I don't think the man has said a single word that I haven't taken and locked away inside of me, knowing I'll pull them back out once I'm alone and missing him, despite how much I've tried to avoid doing just that.
"I don't want you to be safe."
I do my best not to stiffen, and I'm praying he's got a buzz strong enough from drinking with his teammates that he doesn't notice the tautness in my muscles.
"Because I want you to stay. I know I'm not supposed to. I shouldn't want you here, but I do. Kaylee," he says, and my name on his lips sounds like a purr, something that easily lights my body on fire. "It wasn't supposed to be this way. I wasn't supposed to need you like I do."
He shifts his weight behind me as if trying to get comfortable, trying to come to grips with the same damn thing I've been battling, and I can't help but smile that he's in the same boat as me.
It doesn't change the fact that he hasn't been brave enough to speak these words until he's been drinking, but then again, I haven't opened my mouth to voice them either.
This could change everything.
But I still can't quiet that same voice that warned me that night when Troy showed up on my doorstep.
Ellis doesn't have a wife. He isn't brokenhearted about his marriage going south, and, honestly, it's not fair that I compare the two men. They're worlds apart in integrity and the way they treat me. Troy was always looking for something for himself, and Ellis spent countless hours trying to keep me safe.
Troy wouldn't have hesitated to push the sex issue, and Ellis stopped us more than once because I had rules in place before my mind got muddled with his sexiness. Even though I begged to take things further, he refused.
"You're so special," he says with a tired, heavy breath, as if he's starting to fall asleep. "I've never met a woman who has ever compared. I'm begging you, baby. Please stay with me. Please?"
I wait a minute longer, hoping he says more, because each word out of his sexy mouth plugs a hole left in my heart by my past.
When I finally get the courage to turn and face him, I notice his even breaths and the hint of a snore coming from his mouth.
I don't really regret not turning sooner. We have a long time to talk about this stuff.
I sweep his hair off of his face and fall asleep, curled into his chest, as if we've been lovers for a lifetime and it's exactly where I belong.
***
I can't recall the last time I woke with a smile on my lips and hope blooming in my chest, but here I am, stretching in the bed, arms over my head with my back arched, feeling like a million bucks.
I do a full-body check, making a point to flex every single muscle group I can think of and doing my best to ignore the ache right in the center of me.
I'm so happy with what he said to me last night that I don't even bother to feel bad that the other side of the bed is empty. It doesn't even occur to me to worry about why he's not there with me. He has a job to do and business to handle. We haven't woken up once together, so there are no alarms bells going off in my head, not after his whispered confessions last night.
Getting out of bed, I stretch again, loving the burn in my muscles from my vigorous swim in the pool yesterday. I don't know what our lives will look like going forward, but I pray the pool is part of the deal. I picture myself swimming in it after a very long shift at the grocery store, and by the time I climb into the shower, water covering my body, the images shift from a lonely relaxing swim to being joined by Ellis.
I turn off the water after my shower and try to turn off those thoughts. We can get to the sexy parts soon. What I don't need is to go in search of him panting like a sex-crazed lunatic and having the other guys in the house witnessing that.
I notice my cheeks are pink when I swipe the condensation off of the mirror and stare into my reflection, but there isn't a thing I can do about it. I always seem to be a little flushed around him, and I don't know that I want to tamp down the way I react to him any time soon. It makes me feel alive for the first time in as long as I can remember.
I pull on some clothes, grateful for the things that showed up in the closet the other day, considering the conversation that Ellis and I need to have. As much as I like t-shirts and sweats, the outfits aren't very conducive to the Nevada heat, despite that it's late October.
Thinking of the calendar makes me also think of Morgan's Halloween party, and as I leave the room, I have every intention of inviting my husband to join me.
Voices coming from the conference room make me pause rather than heading right into the kitchen.
"It's not the best idea," Ellis says, but I have no idea who he's speaking to. "It's not like she can stay here forever."
"You don't have to be so hasty." I recognize Rooster's voice. He's the guy I've spoken to the most because it seems like he's the one who never leaves the house as his work is all tech and computer-related.
"It's not being hasty. I think it's time to go."
All of those tiny holes he has managed to fill break open once again, leaving behind more damage than Troy ever could've caused. I let my guard down. I allowed myself to imagine that he was different, that we were somehow meant to be, that our meeting and marriage were kismet somehow and always meant to be.
I couldn't be more wrong, and the pain of this realization slices at me, adding a thousand tiny cuts to my skin.
I turn to leave, knowing I can easily run up the stairs, pack my limited belongings, and leave. I don't have to stick around, giving him more opportunity to drive the knife harder into my back.
"Kaylee?"
I spin to face him, the threat of tears burning the backs of my eyes. For some reason, I force a smile to my lips because it's what comes as second nature to me, hiding the pain, that is.
He doesn't look annoyed to see me there. If anything, his smile is wide, and then it hits me. He's worse than Troy. My ex had a hard time hiding his true emotions. If he was upset, he didn't waste a breath lying about it. If he didn't like something, the opinion rushed from his lips whether prompted or not.
"Hey," I manage, my voice not working the way I want it to.
I feel like letting him see my pain would only be another mark in his win category, and I can only take so many strikes against me before crumpling to the floor and sobbing like a baby. I've done that in the past, so I know it doesn't help any situation.
I straighten my spine when I notice the shadow at his back, and as if they weren't just talking about getting rid of me, Rooster smiles in my direction as well.
"Good morning, Kaylee," Rooster says.
Their smiles are like poisonous darts being embedded in my skin, but when Ellis walks up to me and wraps his arms around my waist, I curl into his embrace one last time. If there's anything that I've learned over the years, it's that I can be just as fake as I need to be until l have the chance to walk away.