Chapter 29 Heston #2
My phone buzzes on the nightstand, but I can’t think about anything other than our argument at Solana Bluffs and our kiss at the bar. I knew she’d been put through the wringer that day.
It hits a nerve that we haven’t really talked about any of it since then.
It scares me how easy it is for us to fall right into the trap of our busy lives and unfortunate circumstances and avoid a much-needed conversation.
In some ways, it feels like we’ve been here before, but in no way do I feel like she needs to give me an apology for how emotional it’s been for both of us.
“What? No. You don’t have to say sorry to me for something like that, Hattie.”
“Hmm.” She hums against my shirt and lets my words hang in the air. “What an interesting concept.”
I lightly pinch her side, and she lets out a small laugh. “Fine. I see your point.”
“Smart man.”
Warmth blooms in my chest. Despite the mood lightening for a minute, I don’t enjoy the feeling as much as I should. I’m too aware of how everything still feels heavy and unresolved between us.
“I feel like I failed.” I’m surprised by my own honesty.
Hattie doesn’t react at first. Without looking up, she traces a lazy circle on my rib cage with her index finger. “Failed at what?”
“A lot. Everything.” Having to flip through a long list of examples brings on a wave of shame.
I don’t even know where to start. Hattie wants to disagree with my answer, I can feel it, but she remains patient as I stare blankly at the ceiling.
“The last ten years have felt less like living life and more like a ten-car pile up.”
“Not all ten years.”
I barely smirk. “Yeah. Not quite all of them.”
“Lots of people feel like failures sometimes,” she goes on. “Trust me, I’d know. I get dizzy just thinking about all the things I’ve messed up lately.”
“Like what?”
“It doesn’t matter. This is about you right now. I just wanted to make a point that you’re not alone.”
“It matters,” I disagree. “Why do we only have to talk about me?”
She only hesitates for a moment before answering.
“Because you think staying quiet about things that bother you is doing other people a favor. I think you pretend that talking about it doesn’t help you feel better, but it actually does.
Plus, I’m tired of thinking about all of my problems. I’ll sleep better if I can think about someone else’s for a change.
” I chuckle, and she flattens her hand on my ribs. “And mostly, because I care about you.”
My jaw hardens because I know everything she’s saying about me has a significant amount of truth to it.
It’s a comfort, having someone know you on that level, even after years apart.
And yet, we’re in this weird in between right now, where it doesn’t feel right to act on the urge to tell her I love her for being that person for me.
I remove my left hand from behind my head and place it on top of hers. It’s not as good as telling her, but maybe at least part of the sentiment can be felt.
The moon is bright outside. We lay in silence for a while as the filtered beams seep in through the window and land on her pale blonde hair. I marvel at the sight.
A black cloud seems to follow us everywhere we go. I’ve long since accepted that it’s virtually inescapable for me, so I keep to the shadows.
Maybe she feels that way, too, at times. But light has never stopped trying to find its way to Hattie. She glows in spite of whatever darkness tries to drown us.
“I’ll sleep better when neither of us has problems,” I say.
I can feel her smile against my shirt. “Good luck with that. We’ll have problems forever, just like everybody else.”
She’s right, as usual. I’ve been lectured about shared human experiences one too many times to disagree with her.
“But they’d be easier to live with if things were different,” I explain.
“Different for us?”
“Yeah.” I don’t even have the energy to sigh about it anymore. Not tonight, anyway. “Different for us.”
Lucky lets out a massive, loud sneeze, and it makes both of us flinch. Hattie jolts upright to look over toward the dog bed, which causes her hand to slip out from under mine.
“Girl, give it a rest. You’ve scared me enough today,” Hattie whisper shouts across the room.
She shakes her head, but I can still make out a tiny smile as she turns her upper body to face me.
I scoot my hips back to sit up against my pillow.
“I was so scared that something really bad had happened to her earlier.”
“I wouldn’t have forgiven myself if that turned out to be the case.”
Hattie drops her shoulders and tilts her head. “Don’t say that, Hes. I thought we already addressed that it wasn’t your fault.”
Hes.
The way she says it so casually makes me feel like I’ve been doused in gasoline and lit on fire.
Shortening my name like that while trying to reassure me? When we’re both in my bed, no less? And she’s wearing my damn shirt?
Somebody fucking sedate me.
“Yeah, but it still feels like it,” I explain, trying to keep myself talking to avoid the place my mind wants to wander to. “I’ve been so distracted lately. Bad. I can hardly pay attention to things around me anymore because I only think about one thing.”
“One thing?”
I nod. “You.”
She stills. Every reckless, stubborn, compassionate, and borderline obnoxiously beautiful part of her.
I worry that she’ll bolt, so I reach over and take her hand, which just so happens to be her left one.
Without thinking, I run a soothing trail over her fingers with my thumb. She isn’t wearing a ring.
My eyes flick down.
The nightstand buzzes with more notifications from my phone.
Hattie slides closer to me, but then my phone buzzes again. And again.
“Are you going to get that?”
I’m ninety-five percent sure it’s just my friends blowing up the chat. Even if it isn’t, I couldn’t care less right now. “No,” I deadpan.
Hattie purses her lips, pulls her hand away from mine, and stretches out toward the nightstand.
Her arched back is suddenly front and center in my line of sight as she attempts to reach the phone.
The shirt she’s wearing is pulled up at the hem, skimming just barely high enough to reveal the bottom of her boy-short panties. My pulse hammers.
I silently thank the universe when she finally grasps the phone and settles back into her spot next to me. Her face lights up from looking down at the screen as she scrolls through what I’m assuming is roughly six hundred text message notifications.
She snorts a laugh, then turns the screen for me to see.
Warren
How’s Lucky doin?
Tripp
His room’s been pretty quiet, so I’m assuming she’s sleeping.
Warren
Nice. Just wanted to check in
Gage
His room has been quiet? You guys keep each other on speaker phone at night so you can fall asleep together now or what?
Tripp
God no. He snores like a fucking incoming tornado
I’m sitting in the hallway listening through the wall like the civilized friend that I am
Gage
That’s…still creepy af
Tripp
He doesn’t mind trust me
Only gets mad if I go in
Warren
Why would you need to listen through the wall
Gage
Hattie is still here
Tripp
Yep. And she’s in there with him
Warren
Guys. Is this it?
Tripp
Idk. Like I said it’s been pretty quiet so either he sucks in bed or he’s sleeping on the floor and they aren’t doing any making up
Gage
Sucks in bed. Five on it.
I roll my eyes and cup my hands over my mouth to shout at the door. “Get a life.”
Hattie laughs and takes the phone back from me. There’s no telling what else they’ve said in the chat if she were to scroll back far enough. She can read it if she wants to, I guess. But it gets a little unhinged at times.
I switch the setting to do not disturb and lean over to slide it back onto the nightstand. My eyes don’t meet hers when I settle back against my pillow.
“They love you,” she points out sweetly.
“They’re alright,” I mumble.
She pulls more covers into her lap with another light laugh. There might be a bruise on my chest tomorrow from the number of times I’ve rubbed it today.
“Did you mean it?”
I don’t lift my head, but my eyes draw up to hers.
My guess is that she wants to know if she’s really the only thing I can think about.
The answer is a definitive yes, obviously.
I’m pretty sure she knows I wouldn’t lie about that.
So, I don’t think she’s looking for clarification. She just wants to hear it again.
“Yes, I meant it. I haven’t thought about a damn thing but you since the day we met, Hattie.”