Chapter 15
Addison
Two Months Later
Brantley’s hand sneaks up my shirt and rests on my back. I shift in his lap, bringing our bodies closer together. His fingers trace over my skin, and it sends a slow chill through my body.
As he deepens our kiss, I can feel the urge in his hands to touch more of me. They slowly come around my rib cage, cold but warming against my skin.
He slides the flannel down my arms and then pulls my tank top over my head, tossing it onto the floor before pulling me on top of him and onto the couch.
I don’t like being exposed like this, it’s awkward and a little uncomfortable.
But our lips never leave one another’s. His hands move lower, his fingers tucking in the top of my pants.
He starts to tug them and the siren in my head screams louder at me.
“Brantley.” I grab his hands, stopping him.
“What?”
“No.” I laugh.
“C’mon, it’s our anniversary,” he pleads.
I sigh. “I don’t want to.” I’m holding my breath. I feel bad; I know I shouldn’t, but I do.
He groans. “Then why were you texting me like that today?”
“I thought we were just being fun.”
“You can’t get me all worked up like that and then back out.” He sits up.
“Uh, I think I can,” I argue, brows raised.
“Well, it’s rude.”
I sit up. “It’s also rude to guilt someone into doing something they don’t want to do.”
“You’re just scared and you have to get over it. Especially if you even want to think about having kids one day. You know you need to have sex to do that right?”
My jaw falls slack. “I’m not scared!” I huff, pulling my clothes back on and combing through my hair that he mussed.
“Well, sure seems like it.”
“Because I don’t want to do anything more than kiss tonight?!”
He huffs. “Whatever.” He shakes his head, busying himself on his phone. I sit down on the other end of the couch and wait for him to finish whatever he’s doing.
We sit in silence for a solid minute.
“Brantley?”
“Hmm?” he hums, not lifting his gaze from his phone. I was anticipating him apologizing for being a jerk, but he isn’t.
“Are we just not going to talk now or…?”
“I guess not.”
I scoff and stand up, frustration bubbling in my blood. I’m not gonna sit here in silence all night because he’s being a child about not getting what he wants.
As I walk out through the dark house, I glance at the time on the microwave. It’s only six thirty. If I leave now I’ll be home at seven fifteen, and that isn’t normal, not when I don’t have to be home until midnight.
So much for being proud of myself for coming over, for combating my anxiety for this. I was on a happiness high and I hate that he ruined it. It’s like me being here wasn’t enough in itself.
I start driving home, trying to figure out what I’ll tell my parents when they ask why I’m home so early. I hate lying, I never lie. But something like this…I just want to keep to myself.
I call Wesley, figuring I can see what he’s up to and maybe buy some time before heading home.
As I wait for him to pick up, I remind myself not to dump my relationship problems on him. I’ve been doing so good, I can’t kill my momentum.
“What’s up?” he asks with a relaxed tone, as if I always call him.
“Are you doing anything fun?”
“Guys are over. You’re welcome to join, we’re not drinking.”
I smile to myself. “Yeah? Well maybe—”
“Wait. Isn’t your anniversary tonight?”
“Yeah. I’m driving home now from Brantley’s house.” I stay casual.
“Oh. You feel okay?”
“Yeah. I was fine, it was good.”
“Good.”
The silence between us is weird for a minute but I hear his friends and music in the background.
I start. “Anyway, I can let you go. I just—”
“You sure you’re okay?”
My cheeks burn. I never should’ve called; I can’t lie to save my life. “I’m good,” I say.
“No, you’re not. You don’t sound right but you’re trying to.”
Tears well in my eyes but I refuse to let him hear it in my voice. “Okay, well, remember what I said I wasn’t gonna do?”
“Mm-hmm,” Wes hums, a slight irritation to the sound.
“So…I’m gonna go. Have fun with the guys. Tell them I said hi,” I say as steady as I can.
“I will. Don’t be a stranger though.”
I manage a playful laugh before hanging up. A single tear falls down my face, but I brush it away.
When I get home, I notice that my parents aren’t even home. They must’ve gone out for dinner or something. Who knows. Either way, I’m relieved I don’t have to answer to anyone, at least not right now. I can have some time to breathe. To let my emotions run and then I’ll bottle them up later.
I haven’t even gotten upstairs yet when I hear a truck pull up out front. I look, anticipating my parents, but it’s Cody’s jacked-up black truck. He is the last person I want to see tonight.
I grab a couple of snacks from the cabinet and glass of water. I didn’t eat much all day.
In enters Cody, carrying a large cardboard box of frozen meat that I’m guessing he picked up from the butcher today. Or he’s cleaning out his freezer.
“Where you think Mom wants this?” he asks.
Judging by the amount of it, I know that it won’t be here in the kitchen freezer.
“The garage?” I say with a little more attitude than I meant.
“What’s your problem?”
“Nothing. It’s just sorta an obvious answer, don’t you think?”
“Okay? Well, then I guess I’m just a dumbass, my bad.” he retorts, dropping the box on the counter. The thud makes me jump.
I sigh and head for the stairs.
“Wait. Why are you even home?” Cody stops me. “Isn’t it your anniversary or whatever?”
“Yeah. I just got home.”
He looks at the time. “It’s not even eight o’clock.”
“So? I didn’t wanna drive home late.” I shrug, taking a bite of a pretzel in attempt to hide my white lie.
He shifts his feet, standing taller. His tattooed arms cross over each other and his chest puffs out. He studies me and I can’t even look at his eyes. His gaze is too strong, as if he can see right through me.
“Were you anxious?” he asks. This time his tone isn’t intimidating or harsh. It’s gentle.
Cody and I have such a weird relationship.
One day we’re yelling at each other, the next we’re acting like nothing ever happened. And then there are moments like this where his whole demeanor shifts into something you rarely ever see. His heart is usually locked up so tight you’d need bolt cutters to open it.
I shake my head as I stare at the ground, the tips of my toes brushing across the hardwood floor. Heat rushes to my face, tears building in behind my eyes, and I press into my eyelids hard and fast.
“What happened?” he asks.
“Nothing happened.” My voice cracks.
“Something did.”
“No.” I don’t want to cry, but if he keeps asking, I won’t stand a chance. It’s like he knows what went down.
“Addison. Tell me what he did.” His voice hardens. And when I don’t answer, his hand smacks the counter. “Addison!”
“Nothing! We had a stupid fight and I left!” I shout, my eyes snapping to his.
“Addison! Your shirt is inside out, and so help me God…!” His chest heaves.
I look down, and my heart stops when I see the tag on my shirt sticking out like a sore thumb. And just like that, I lose it.
“It wasn’t—” My voice breaks. “It wasn’t like that,” I tell him. I don’t want him to think something bad happened. He’d be out the door so fast I wouldn’t be able to stop him.
“Then what was it?” he says, voice on edge, taking a step back.
I sniffle and wipe my face. “He just…he got mad when I didn’t want to do anything. He always wants more and—”
“Break up with him.” Cody doesn’t hesitate.
“No.”
“I don’t like him,” he says, “It’s been two years. If he doesn’t get it by now, he never will. Break up with him.”
“You’re just like the rest,” I mutter and storm upstairs to my room, my vision blurry with more threatening tears.
I guess I can’t talk to anyone about us. One wrong thing to anyone and they’re demanding I break up with him.
I sit on the edge of my bed, my head in my hands, praying for this drama and constant fighting to stop. For just a second. Because I feel like I’m drowning.
Then the bed shifts. Someone sits beside me, and a strong arm pulls me in, careful but determined.
“You’re okay,” Cody mutters. His voice has a rough edge but he’s trying to be sensitive.
I break all over again, my face pressed into his chest, and he just holds me. Suffocating me in a hug I didn’t know I needed.
He doesn’t say anything. He just stays.