Oakley
I’m dying when I get to work. Dying to see Travis. Dying to ask him how his date was.
But I don’t. I can’t.
It’s none of my business. The fact that I didn’t see him yesterday or talk to him at all probably means he had a great time on his date.
Oh God. Are they already in love?
What if he’s moving there?
Shit. Shit. Shit.
“What are you doing?” I turn to look at Travis, who’s climbing out of his car and staring at me while I stand at the back of the truck like an idiot. Unmoving and totally frozen, thinking about his date.
“Nothing. Getting ready to start the shift.”
But I still don’t move. I just watch him as he approaches the truck in his work shirt and dirty jeans. He looks damn good. He always does. Sexy as fuck, with his hair still wet from his shower. Did he leave Ryan’s place this morning? Shower there and then drive here?
Were they up fucking all night?
He does look a little tired.
Shit.
“Oakley.” I’m staring again.
“Yeah?”
“Let’s go. We have like five houses today.”
He’s checking over the schedule, standing at the passenger side of the work truck and looking annoyed. Probably because he had to leave Ryan’s bed this morning.
I climb into the truck and start it, but my whole body feels numb. I can’t stop thinking about his date. I want to ask him about it. I want to ask him about every detail, but I think knowing might kill me, so I just start driving to the first house.
We work in silence most of the day. He catches me staring way too many times, and again, he looks annoyed. Like really annoyed with me staring.
Probably because he belongs to Ryan now.
Finally, when we’re on our way back to the head office, tired and dirty, I park the truck. But I can’t take it anymore and ask, “How was your date?”
He doesn’t move from his seat, turning his head to look at me, and my heart sinks. He looks upset. Like he doesn’t want to tell me how great it was. Like maybe he’s trying to let me down easy.
I want to say never mind. That I don’t want to know, but he speaks before I can. “It was fine. Not really what I expected.”
Is that a good thing or a bad thing?
“Oh.”
He stares at me. I don’t think he likes my short reply, but what the hell am I supposed to say? That it feels like my heart might explode or split in half? That I want to puke right now? That I know I’m supposed to be happy for him, but I’m not.
I’m miserable.
Fuck.
“Oh?” Double fuck. He’s pissed. “That’s it? That’s all you’re going to say?”
“What do you want me to say, Travis?” God, I’d give anything for him to give me the answer. Tell me what to say. Tell me the right thing to do because I have no idea.
“Nothing. I don’t want you to say anything you don’t want to say.”
What the fuck does that mean? I’m messing this up. That much is clear, but I have no idea how.
He climbs out of the truck and slams the door, and I scramble to climb out of my side, catching up to him before he goes into the office to check out for the day. “Wait.”
He stops, turning toward me. “Are you really this fucking dense?”
“Duh,” I say because he knows this about me. “I’m simple and maybe a little fucking dumb, and I need you to spell it out for me because I don’t know what’s wrong. Are you mad at me?”
“You’re not dumb.” His shoulders slouch. “I just . . .” He runs his fingers through is hair and looks stressed the hell out. “I’m tired, and I want to go home and take a shower.”
I want to offer to go take a shower with him, but that’s probably not appropriate. Hell, maybe shower is code for drive three hours to meet up with his college boy and have sex all night.
A sharp pain slices through my chest again, and I’m really starting to hate that feeling. What the hell is wrong with me?
I’m the king of easy and simple. That’s what this was supposed to be. No strings. No complications. No one getting hurt.
And it’s anything but that.
“Okay. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
He doesn’t say anything else as he walks away from me, and that numb feeling comes back over me again.
I think this may be the most difficult and complicated thing I’ve ever done.
And I am, for sure, hurting right now.