Chapter Twenty-Four #2
By the time Ryan climbs back into the car, slipping behind the driver’s side holding several bags of delicious-smelling food, I’ve thought myself into a frenzy that can only be cured by simply asking the questions running through my mind.
When Ryan pulls off, I turn in my seat and gather the courage to ask, “So, is there a reason you guys are hanging around a little more, not letting me walk around alone and stuff? Not that I mind, because I’ve been enjoying the company, but Caid said something that kind of has me wondering a few things. ”
Ryan glances at me before looking back at the road, tapping his steering wheel as he answers, “Caid spoke to us all about the emails. It seems Toby has been lingering outside the apartment, based on those emails, and he pointed out that we don’t really know where else he could be loitering to keep an eye on you.
We agreed it was best for someone to be with you for the time being, at least until the police finally do something about it. ”
Oh. Well… okay then.
“Huh,” is my only response, nodding slowly while I absorb that explanation.
“We want you to be safe, so we’re taking all precautions,” he adds, flashing me a smile that doesn’t sucker me like it has been doing all day, because the little bubble I’d been forming over the past few days pops so suddenly that the sadness doesn’t seep in immediately.
Instead, a heavy sense of disappointment falls onto my chest with the hefty weight of an anvil, my shoulders slumping along with my good mood.
Turns out I have four bodyguards now, not four men who simply want to spend time with me like I was starting to think.
That… that kind of sucks. I mean, I guess some women would be gushing at the thought of having four guys protecting them.
Don’t get me wrong, it can be hot, but when it turns out the guys you’re crushing on are only hanging out with you out of a sense of obligation rather than a want or need, it kind of dampens the vibe.
I’ve been thinking things that aren’t actually real, looking into actions that mean something different.
I guess I looked a little too deep into Caiden’s confession, seeing it as something it isn’t.
No wonder he said those words so easily, because it was a platonic confession that I deluded myself into thinking was a declaration of mutual feelings.
Apparently, I’m an idiot.
And it wouldn’t be the first time I’ve felt that way.
The thoughts and feelings Toby scarred into my psyche suddenly come roaring back, a harsh notion that I’m too much creeping back from the depths and shadows of my mind where they lurk and linger.
My chaos is too much, my drama is too much, I’m too much, and I’ve been dumping it all on these guys like I have a right.
They’re only my neighbors, and now they’ve become my obligated sentinels who feel like they have to spend the entire day at my work place and drive me around like glorified chauffeurs.
This… this is not the turn I was almost hoping for, and I can’t lie and say I’m not thoroughly bummed.
I don’t even know why, because I still don’t know how any of this would work.
I’d have to choose either way, so maybe it’s for the best. Maybe I should consider it a blessing in disguise or something.
I keep telling myself that as I turn back in my seat, facing the front while I wallow in my new puddle of misery, the delicious-smelling food now turning my stomach sour.
I fall silent, and I feel Ryan look over at me a couple of times before he turns up a song I’ve listened to so much that I overheard Caid singing it a couple of days ago.
It doesn’t hold the same joy as it did before, so I tune it out instead.
By the time we arrive back at the apartment, I’ve thought myself into a horrible mood, my self-deprecating mind dampening the good vibes I’d been carrying with me all day.
Climbing out of the car, silent as the dead, I reach for my bags and the food, waiting for Ryan to round the car before clearing my throat and telling him, “I’m not feeling so great, so I’m going to head on up to my apartment. You guys enjoy the food, though.”
Ryan frowns and accepts the food, tilting his head as he scans my face. I would have thought it was sweet before, but now I wonder if he’s just checking because he thinks he has to.
“Are you okay?” he asks, the concern in his voice almost wiping away the bad thoughts that have snuck in and stuck.
Almost. Not quite, but almost.
I swat a hand in his direction, the action a little limp as I say, “Yeah, just don’t feel so great. Think I’m just overtired. Don’t worry about it. Have a great night.”
Before he can say anything else, I offer him a smile I don’t feel and turn, my sneakers scuffing along the floor as I head into the apartment before him.
I wave at Callie as I pass, giving her a defeated, tired smile, hating how Toby has gotten into my head enough to screw me like this.
I mean, it’s the only good kind of screwing that fuck-knuckle is good at, but I hate it all the same.
The elevator comes quickly, and I step on, stabbing the button over and over. I breathe a sigh of relief when the doors close just as Ryan steps into the lobby with the same look of concern he was wearing before, his eyes trained on me even as the doors close.
As soon as the doors close, I drop my head against the mirrored wall and slump my body, the tiredness catching up to me and dampening my mood that much more.
I’m in the pits by the time I step into my apartment, locking the door behind me for the first time in…
well, actually, I don’t know how long. I’d only been forgetting to lock it for a week before the guys showed up, and since they come and go as they please, I haven’t really felt much of a need to lock it since.
They’re always welcome, in my eyes, so what use is there in creating a nuisance for a barrier?
However, with my mood the way it is, and the thoughts running through my head, I know I’m not good company and I certainly know I don’t have it in me to pretend otherwise.
So, I turn the lock, and the snick of the latch slotting in place almost sounds too loud in the quiet apartment that has felt full of life over the past couple of months.
Feeling sorry for myself, I hang my camera bag and purse on the hooks beside the door, kicking off my sneakers before shuffling to the kitchen and checking my fridge.
When all I find are bottles of flavored water, fresh strawberries I didn’t buy, and a new jar of chocolate spread, I decide that girl dinner is what will get me by tonight instead of the Indian takeout Ryan bought.
Why couldn’t I have had this miserable epiphany after food, damn it?
Tucking two bottles of water under my arm, I gather the strawberries and chocolate spread before kicking the fridge door shut, then carry my sorry ass all the way to the couch where I plan to spud out and not move until morning. Well, after I change out of my clothes, that is.
After I get changed into short shorts and an oversized shirt, slipping my feet into fuzzy socks I was hoping would lighten my mood, I trudge all the way back to the couch.
I grab two blankets on my way, bundling myself in them before gathering the goods onto my lap.
Throwing whatever crap is playing on the TV tonight, I gorge on sweet strawberries and sickening chocolate spread, wallowing in the misery that plagues me no thanks to Toby fucking Moore.