Chapter Eleven
CHAPTER ELEVEN
TOBIAS
Griffin is lucky he’s in another town right now.
God. I want to punch him in the face. Right between the eyes. I want to hit him so hard that both eyes swell, and he can’t see for weeks.
Fucking bastard.
I let out a breath.
Why am I so angry these days?
Oh, I know. Who does that to a woman like Natalie?
An idiot. That’s who.
I might be lost in my own shit, but I don’t treat people like garbage. So at least I have that going for me.
I turn the shower off and then swipe my hand over the mirror to clear the steam.
I’ve got my Dove back.
I should be on cloud nine right now.
Maybe even higher than that. What would that be? Over the moon.
I shake my head and run a towel over my head to dry my hair.
Natalie is here with me.
She’s not getting married.
She’s not mad at me anymore.
Yeah, the circumstances aren’t ideal, but for the first time in a long time, I feel like things are about to get better. Like there is a light ahead, and I’m about to find whatever it is I’m looking for.
Maybe I just needed my best friend back.
Or maybe it’s because she looks too good in nothing but my shirt. Sure, she could have worn something of my sister’s last night, but it was late, and it was easier to grab my shirt than dig through Quinn’s dresser here to find something.
Watching Natalie wear my clothes … I couldn't keep my eyes off her. Especially this morning after she told me the engagement was off.
Shit.
Shit.
My mind shouldn’t go there.
It never goes there, so why is it now?
Is she okay? Really okay?
I know I asked her. Maybe a few too many times, but it’s as if she isn’t even fazed by the fact that a week ago, she was talking about flower arrangements and colors and cake flavors and today she’s … not.
“Hey, are we—shoot, sorry,” Natalie says and turns around as I step out of the bathroom and quickly lower my towel to cover myself. “Whoa.”
Before I can say anything, she erupts into laughter. It does nothing positive for my ego.
“Tobias! Ten years. We made it ten years before one of us walked in and caught the other one naked.”
The playful tone in her voice makes me smirk . There she is. My Natalie.
“Well, normally we knock on the door before coming in.”
“The door was wide open. How was I supposed to know you’d be in here naked? Normal people close the door while they get dressed.”
“I’m a little rusty on the roommate part.”
“Clearly.”
With her facing me again, she blows out a breath. “So, what’s the plan for today?”
“I figured we could head over to the hospital and make one from there. I’m not sure what time Grandma is getting out, so I’ll probably just hang out there until they give us the go-ahead.”
“Sounds good to me. And even though you avoided my question earlier about when we can get her, I’m going with you. You can't stop me.”
“I figured as much.”
She shuffles on her feet in my doorway as I slide on my jeans.
“I’m dressed now.”
She turns slowly, making a poor attempt to not check me out. Even if she did intentionally, I know it wouldn't be like that. It’s hard not to look anytime there’s a shirtless person in the room, especially when you don’t usually see said person shirtless. I wish I could say people have this wonderful self-control, but we are human. It happens.
“There’s a new coffee shop on the way to the hospital. Should we stop to get you something? Grandma Betty said they make pistachio lattes all year round.”
She smirks but shakes her head. “I’m more of an at-home coffee girl these days.”
“Is that so?”
She nods.
“Since when?”
“Since”—she pauses—“since it’s more cost-effective to drink coffee at home?”
“Ha,” I say a bit louder than normal to her response. Is she telling me or asking me? “If I recall correctly, in college, you said it didn’t matter how much one spends on coffee as long as it’s made right and sets the mood for a successful day.”
She pins me with a glare. “That was a long, long time ago.”
I nod and then find the shirt I'd been looking for and pull it over my head.
“Yeah, it was.”
“So, should we take my car?” she changes the subject. “It might be easier for Grandma Betty to get into than your truck.”
Natalie has chosen to stand in the doorway through our entire exchange, so when I move toward the door, she backs up into the frame.
I tap her nose and smile, locking my eyes on hers.
“You always were the smarter one,” I say and walk out the door, jogging down the steps.
Natalie is right behind me.
“Between the two of us, clearly. I’m not the one who would make bets with their friends where the loser always had to run through campus naked.”
I spin to face her, causing her to bump into me and look up. Chest to chest, she smiles up at me.
“I’ve never lost, now have I? I’d say that makes me smart.”
Then I grab my keys and head for the front door.
Natalie slings her purse over her shoulder and follows me.
“I don't know. I could probably name a few more,” she teases and unlocks her car. “Should I remind you of them in the car, Casanova?”
I practically growl at her.
I don’t need her to remind me of things I did that weren't smart. I know the list of things I did in the past is long.
“Okay, and then when you’re done, you can give me the list of reasons why you’re friends with someone who makes such poor choices.”
She huffs.
“That’s easy. It’s because you're a nice guy.”
I cringe.
A nice guy.
The one thing every man loves to hear.
* * *
“I told you I was waiting for my grandson to arrive before I made any decisions.”
I hear Grandma Betty halfway down the hall to her room.
Natalie lets out a small giggle next to me, and I pinch her side.
“I’ve missed her,” she whispers and then perks up. “Let me go in first.”
Now it’s my turn to laugh. “Go for it.”
Natalie takes a step in front of me, and my heart swells. If anyone cares for Grandma Betty as much as I do, it’s Nat.
Not to mention, I’m pretty sure Grandma Betty loves Natalie a little more than me.
It's a punch to the gut, but I don't blame her. I have no doubt that Natalie is going to brighten up her entire day.
As for me, that’s a different story. I know exactly what my grandmother is going to say to me.
“Knock, knock,” Natalie says and steps into the room.
“Ahhh! Oh, my dear! What are you doing here?”
“Umm, hello.” Natalie points around the room. “As if I could sit at home when you need me.”
Natalie leans down for a hug, and although my grandma is hugging her back, she’s shooting glares my way over Natalie's shoulder. Her eyes have a mix of emotions and questions. All of which I know I'll have to answer before I head back home in a few days.
“Where’s your fiancé?” Grandma gets right to it, but then she gasps before Natalie can answer. “Oh gosh, I didn't ruin your party, did I? I already told Tobias that he shouldn’t have left to come tend to me. There are doctors here who can do much more than he can.”
Natalie sits next to her and grabs her hand.
“I’m actually not getting married anymore.”
“What? What happened? Tobias, don't just stand in the doorway with your arms crossed. Why didn’t you tell me about this?”
“I didn’t know until this morning.”
“You drove all night?” Grandma asks, her worried eyes soaking up Natalie's face. “Let’s get you a coffee. The new coffee hut serves your favorite all year round.”
“I’ll get one on the way back.”
I shake my head. Of course she will.
“But I actually got here last night. I stayed at your house with Tobias.”
“Alone?” Grandma asks, and now it’s my turn to shoot her a glare.
I sure as hell hope Grandma can read that “she just called off her engagement” look on my face.
“Yes.” Natalie laughs. “I stayed in the spare room, but don’t worry, I cleaned it up this morning while Tobias moved some of your things downstairs for you.”
“Oh, I have a new room now?”
I nod. “Just for a little bit. We should start looking for a new house. One level.”
“How about you two get me out of this bleach box first?”
Natalie’s beaming smile is all I need to not argue.
“You got it.”
I step out of the room to find her nurse or doctor, but my phone rings before I have the chance. A picture of my little sister, Quinn, with a cake smashed in her face appears on the screen.
“Hey,” I answer, finding a quiet spot to sit down.
“Hey! How are you? How’s Gran? My phone died, and I just saw your messages.”
Quinn’s talking a mile a minute, and I can hear noise in the background, as if she's outside on a busy street.
“It’s 2024, Quinn. How does anyone’s phone die?”
“Stop parenting me and tell me about Gran.”
I groan.
“She’s doing better. I’m looking for her doctor now to check her out so I can take her home. Where are you?”
“New York. Just for a couple of more days.”
“Wow, okay. How is it?”
“Not as glamorous as the first time and still busy as ever, but you know me, I love the go, go, go life.”
“You wouldn't be you if not. But hey, do you think you can come stay with Grandma after New York? I can stay until then.”
“Of course. Give me a few days, and I’ll be there.”
“Thank you.”
“Yeah, and hey, when does your next book release? I have a new friend who is obsessed with your writing, and I thought I’d send her a signed copy.”
I pinch the spot between my eyes.
One problem at a time would be nice.
“I don’t know. I haven’t exactly finished a book recently.”
“What? Why not?”
“I don’t know. I have a lot going on.”
“Really? Come on, big brother, I know you’ve got this.”
“Well, that’s sort of on the back burner now. Grandma Betty is my focus.”
“No way. She'd be so mad if she knew you put yourself second to her. You better figure it out. Maybe think of all the ways you like to relax. Get your frustration out. Maybe you need to vent somewhere. Hey, maybe go home alone and lock yourself in a room and scream as loud as you can. It worked for me once.”
I laugh at her ramble of advice.
“Thanks, Quinn.”
“For what? I’m sure I said nothing that can help you. The only person who has ever been able to help you when it comes to your writing is Natalie. She knows you best, so ask her and do whatever she says.”
“She did give me advice, but it's not what I’m looking for.”
“What did she say?”
“That we should write a book together.”
Quinn squeals. “You so should! I mean, even if you don’t publish it, you should do it. It would be so cute.”
“Yeah.” I scratch the back of my neck and glance back at Grandma Betty’s room, where I hear her and Natalie’s laughter. “I don’t think it will help.”
“Why not?”
“It’s not what I’m used to.”
“Exactly. What you’re used to isn’t working anymore.”
She has a point.
“Okay, I have to go, but think of it this way: You need to get the words and emotions out. Writing is how you vent, so you can do it alone or with someone. It’s up to you to choose how to escape this rut you’re in.”
Escape?
Natalie pokes her head out of the room and waves for me to return.
That’s exactly what I need, and I have a feeling Natalie might need it too.