18. Attempt at Comfort
Chapter eighteen
Attempt at Comfort
The worry I felt for Derek—and for Jason, if I was being totally honest—was hard to dislodge from my mind as I searched for the classroom where the novel writing lecture was to be held. I checked my phone to look at the time and saw that I had a few moments, so I decided to give Derek a call.
The phone rang, and rang, and rang. By the fifth ring, I was worried that it was gonna go to voicemail when I finally heard Derek’s voice on the other end.
“Hey baby, what’s going on?” He sounded completely exhausted, his normally deep voice adopting a gravelly cadence.
“How are you? I know things are a real shitshow, but are you okay?” I felt like such a complete shit, because of course he’s not okay. Who would be? But it was the only thing that I could think of to ask. Any thought of not asking ‘are you okay’ went out the window once I heard how terrible he sounded. I wished that I could have been there with him, wrapping my arms around him, surrounded by his scent of freshly cut grass, petrichor —the smell after it rains, which I had look up—and that other subtle scent that still eluded me to this day. Perhaps it was just a scent that was unique to Derek and Derek only.
“I’m…” I stood there, barely breathing as I waited for him to tell me something, anything. At this point, I have no idea if the problem has gotten better or progressed even further into the shit storm that it is. I checked to see if our call was disconnected, because yes, it’s been that long since I’ve heard him say something.
“Derek? Can you hear me? Do you need me to come home?”
“No!” He takes a deep breath and tries again. “No, it’s okay. Just been a long day, is all. Not only am I being sued, but my ex, the last person I wanted to see, just so happened to see me at work today. I’m glad you gave me a call though, I was thinking about you.” I was dimly aware that him merely thinking about me was absolutely one of the sweetest things he’s said to me to date, but my brain decided to latch onto something he said, something I’m gonna need a little bit more clarification on.
“I’m sorry, but your ex came to see you? Why did they want to see you? Did you—“
“Nope! I'm sorry, but I don't have the mental energy to discuss this with you right now. Can we talk about it some other time?”
“Sure.” So many thoughts were going through my head. What did they look like? What’s their name? Are they male or female?
What’s their social, date of birth, and last known address?
“Sorry baby, it’s just not something I want to talk about right now. I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“Derek, stop. I’m not upset… well, not upset at you. You’re going through a lot right now, and the last thing I wanna do is make it about me.”
“Besides, your ex had their chance. You’re all mine now, and I don’t plan on letting you go.” I know it sounds possessive as hell and may be taken as a potential red flag, but I wanted Derek to know that despite my wandering eyes and grudging attraction to Jason, he was the one I wanted to commit to. I just had to get my hormones and my heart on the same page.
“Is it wrong of me that I want you to come home now?” His voice took on that familiar deep timbre that never failed to make my heart race.
“I can be there in twenty.”
“No, no. I was kidding... for the most part. The first day of class on campus is a big day! I don’t want you to miss it because both of us are down to clown. Your education takes priority right now.” I would argue that having my hole filled was the more important priority, but it felt like that would be a battle I wouldn’t win.
Even though I had financial aid, Derek was paying for the rest of my tuition. It felt wrong to skip class just to fulfill a carnal desire, no matter how much I craved it.
“You’re right, this is an opportunity that I don’t wanna screw up just because I’m too horny.” I gave a furtive glance at my surroundings, making sure no one heard me. Blessedly, the hallway was clear.
“Don’t worry, baby. Once you get home, I’m gonna give you all the tender love and care you need.”
“I’m gonna hold you to that.”
“Listen, there will never be a day where I won’t be in the mood.”
“Ah, way to make a guy feel special.”
“I’m serious! You need to understand something; I’m always horny. It’s a blessing and a curse.”
“It’s something alright. You’re telling me that even with the potential lawsuit hanging above our heads, you can still find the energy to fool around?” I took a quick look at the time. I had about five minutes before I had to head inside and find a seat. I loved hearing Derek’s voice and wish I was with him right now. Thankfully, the class was only three hours long, so it would give me plenty of time to get home and make dinner before he got back.
“That’s exactly what I’m saying. What better way to work off some stress than a little tumble between the sheets? Even if I was sick, I’d still be in the mood.”
“Aannnnd the mood has been killed. Good job, Bubba.” I agree that there are very few times that I wouldn’t be up for climbing Derek like a tree, but being sick? No way in hell. Just one cough or sneeze would have me out the door screaming.
“Anytime, baby. Wouldn’t want you going in there with a boner.”
“I do not have a boner!” It was a semi at most. Not even a semi!
“Mmhmm, sure. Listen, I gotta go, but I’ll see you when I get home, Oh! Don’t worry about dinner, I’m gonna pick something up on the way home.”
“Are you sure? I don’t mind...” A night off from having to cook would be amazing, but I didn’t want him to know that. I don’t mind cooking every day, because I have to eat too, but Derek is a large man, larger than most. As such, he has a voracious appetite. Having a reprieve, even for one day, would be nice. Real nice.
“Mmm, I love your cooking. Whatcha making tonight?” I was left speechless as the words that came out of his mouth were the exact opposite of what I envisioned.
“... I don’t know yet. I’ll think of something, though. What're you in the mood for?”
“I would love you forever if you could make that honey chicken. The one with the sauce? Ooh man, it’s good!”
“You got it.” We both ended the call there, as Derek still had work to do, and I still needed to make my way to a seat.
Damn , I really screwed that one up. I thought we were gonna do this cute back-and-forth thing where he insisted on getting dinner, and I half-heartedly offered to make dinner. I stuck to my lines. Derek was the one who went off-script!
Well, at least I know better now.
Sending Derek a quick message saying that I would appreciate the break and not cook dinner tonight would have been quick and easy, but I didn’t because he really seemed to enjoy my cooking so much. They say the key to a man’s heart is his stomach, and his stomach is currently wrapped around my little finger—no question there.
If you think about it, food is just one of those things that can bring genuine comfort to a person. Whether it reminds you of a loved one’s recipe or a time when you were little learning how to cook with your mom or dad. Yeah, I’m bringing comfort to Derek during a time of need. I am in no way, shape, or form salty about my past choices.
I’m not, promise.
Would I take a polygraph test? Absolutely not.
Finding a seat towards the back of the class, I settled down and made sure that I paid attention because this class was what I was really here for. To be surrounded by other creatives and learn the craft. To get rid of the doubt and the insecurity that’s been plaguing me every time I stare at the blinking cursor on my screen.
Three hours later, I felt good. Great even. I consider myself an avid reader, so recognizing the kind of writing styles I like versus what I don’t has become second nature to me. But to finally learn the concepts in a physical environment is vastly different from learning the concept behind a computer screen.
During the lesson, I had an epiphany of how to solve a plothole that’s been bugging me for some time now, but I couldn’t wait to get home and right or else risk losing the solution, so I wrote some notes during the lesson. It would break my heart if I ended up forgetting the whole thing by the time I got back.
Despite the bombshell that was dropped earlier in the day, things were looking to be decidedly better—not the best, but better, which is all I could really ask for.
On my way home, I stopped by the grocery store to pick up some things that I needed to make dinner tonight. It wasn’t until I was on my way to the checkout that realized that I should probably pick up some household items while I was there. So, feeling more confident that I had gotten everything that we needed, I again head to the checkout line, but then I pause, my traitorous mind bringing up an idea that I had trouble ignoring entirely.
Since you’re here, you might as well get your grocery shopping out of the way.
While it—or I rather—had a point, that didn’t mean that I felt like schlepping all of this stuff in the house by myself. But the thing with having imaginary conversations with yourself is, that while you may seem momentarily crazy, you actually tend to find solutions much faster. Well, at least in my opinion.
You can just buy all the stuff now,, and when Derek gets home, he can help carry the heavy stuff inside.
God, I hate it when I’m right.
After being thoroughly defeated by the logical side of my brain, I grab another cart—yes, I need two—and this time, instead of making a list of things I need to get, I slowly meander through all the aisles while picking up things here and there that I’m pretty sure we’ll need, along with things I think we may have but not entirely sure on.
I was in the dairy aisle debating on whether or not I should buy plain or non-fat yogurt when I got a text from Derek
Bubba
Hey, I’m planning on hanging out with the guys on Sunday
My heart started to sink as I could practically see all the food I just bought devoured by Derek and his fratboy friends. Why did men, especially Alphas, have to eat so damn much? Like, where do they put it all?
That’s fine, but they have to start pitching in for food! Or at least bring stuff with them
There are three dots letting me know he’s typing, but then they disappear. They reappear again only to disappear for a second time. So while I wait for him to respond, I decide to go with strawberry yogurt because, let’s be honest, neither one of us is gonna eat the plain or the low-fat. Although, I could use the plain to make homemade beef stroganoff...
Damn! I’m right back where I started.
I end up getting both and finally start to move again when Derek finally texts me back.
‘Don’t worry about it, we’re probably gonna hang at Mike’s’ - Bubba
Oh, thank fuck!
Mike’s is a popular sports bar that they like to go to from time to time, which is okay with me because that gives me less to worry about, both in terms of cooking and cleaning up after them. It makes me wonder what they’re like at home. Whenever they come over, they act like they haven’t eaten anything all day, and by the time they leave, my living room is a complete mess! All they do when they hang out at our house is eat and drink, which is not necessarily a bad thing, but when you’re the only one doing the cooking and cleaning, it sort of takes its toll on you.
I make my way to the checkout line, only this time with the determination that if I didn’t grab it today, it wouldn’t kill us to go without it for a little bit. Besides, like most stores, it has a feature that is most assuredly witchcraft in which you go in, do your shopping, and come out realizing three hours have passed. Which in hindsight--which everyone knows is 20/20, explains so much. Derek is probably home right now and has probably been home for a while, wondering where I am and why dinner isn’t ready.
Now, I’m not proud of this, being a healthy twenty-something rather than a derelict senior citizen, but I went to customer service to ask one of their employees to help me load up my car.
A couple of minutes later, another twenty-something-year-old who looked like he’d rather be doing literally anything else, comes to the front with a look of utter contempt that I wanted to apologize for wasting his time, even though he’s technically getting paid to do this...
As much as my pride hated it, having extra hands was very helpful. So helpful, that I decided to give him a tip.
“We’re not supposed to accept tips,” he said while pocketing the ten dollars I handed to him.
“Right...” My conversational skills being as poor as they are, I struggled to find what else to say now that his services are no longer required.
That sounded weird, like he was an escort or a hired help or something.
While I struggled to find what else to say now that the job was done—yeah, that’s better—he made my life easier by asking the customary ‘Is there anything else I can help you with?’ I tell him no, and he goes back to the store, popping a cigarette in his mouth that I’m sure will be gone by the time he gets back inside.
I finally get home, still wondering how the hell three hours passed by as quickly as they did.
Derek’s white truck is parked in the driveway, which is not surprising. I park my car right next to his and step out, taking only the items that need to go in the freezer from the groceries I bought. The rest of the groceries, Derek can help me with. While Omegas are expected to provide support to their Alphas, Alphas are also supposed to support their Omegas too!
Stepping into the house, I am at first surprised by how quiet it is inside. I send a quick text to Derek asking where he is, putting the food away while I wait for him to respond. I was stashing away some ice cream, debating whether or not I should open it so I could treat myself-I deserved it, I worked hard today-, when the patio doors slid open and Derek walked inside, a glass of amber liquid in his hand.
“Hey baby”, he said, making his way towards me.
“Hey...” I said distractedly, my eyes rooted to the hand that held the glass of what was undoubtedly bourbon, memories that I had long since locked away in a deep, dark place stirring in my mind.
He leaned in to kiss me, but the cloying scent of the bourbon and the bitter memories had my stomach roiling. My body acted of its own accord, leaning away from him and taking a few steps back. Derek looked as if I had physically wounded him.
“What’s the matter? You don’t want to kiss me anymore?”
“You’ve been drinking...” Damnit Damon, pull yourself together. Derek is not like him; he is nothing like him.
“So? In case you forgot, I had a pretty rough day. Besides, I’ve only had one glass. It helps take the edge off. It’s never bothered you before?”
“Yeah, but I’ve never seen you drink bourbon before.”
“What difference does it make?! It’s still alcohol!” Derek’s face is flushed, and my instincts told me he definitely had more than one drink tonight. They were also telling me to make myself a smaller target, to not anger him more than he already is. My body was shaking, whether from fear, adrenaline, or both, I couldn’t say.
“Baby, talk to me! Why are you acting like this?” He tried to close the distance between us, but I wouldn’t let him. The smell was too strong, and I was ready to spew chunks at any moment.
“I-I’m sorry. It’s the bourbon. The smell makes me nauseous.”
“Oh,” He set the glass on the counter and rubbed his hand across his jeans as if the glass left some sort of unseen residue. “I didn’t know. Why didn’t you tell me?”
“It never came up to now,” I said, unable to look him in the eye. It was an easy excuse to make, but what I was about to ask was gonna be hard for both of us. “Derek, do you mind taking a shower for me? The smell seems to be lingering on you...”
“...Sure.” He silently walked out, and I waited until I could hear his footsteps on the stairs before taking a deep breath. I instantly regretted that as I started to dry heave. I quickly poured the bourbon down the drain and lit a candle.
Sigh. So much for a relaxing, not-awkward-as-hell dinner together.
Not wanting to be the kind of partner that makes their significant other take a shower and then go right outside in the cold just to get groceries, I mustered what little energy I had left and went outside.
I knew I should be thinking about opening up to Derek, and I would, but first, I had to work up the courage to confront that part of my past, and I just wasn’t ready yet.
Not ready by far.