26. Jules
TWENTY-SIX
JULES
When I get my period the next day, all makes sense with the world. I know I have a trauma, but I don’t usually cry. I’ve never been a crier.
Drew rejected both the houses we saw yesterday because the foundation was weak, whatever that means. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say he’s purposefully trying to keep me in his house.
He’s locked in his den/office and I’m lounging outside on the deck, with Bailey lying next to me on her bed. She has a bed in every room of the house with specific toys as well. Unless it’s her favorite toy, none of the toys can leave the room they’re in. She’s spoiled rotten and I love it.
“Can you believe it’s almost the end of July?” I look down at Bailey. “Your aunt Lavinia is going to be back from her vacation soon.”
Bailey’s ears twitch at Lavinia’s name. I’ve been texting her every day, but with the time difference, there’s only a short period of time when we can talk on video call.
I close my eyes, enjoying the heat of the sun. The awning has a tinted roof and I can still feel the sunlight while being protected from the rays of the sun.
“I’m going to have to put in so much work if I buy a house. This place is nice. If your dad didn’t want me gone, I’d never leave.”
I do this now. I talk to Bailey when Drew isn’t around, and it makes me realize this is why people have pets. Because I don’t feel lonely when Bailey is around to listen to me.
“I should get a pet.”
Bailey whines softly.
“Don’t worry, you’ll always be my favorite girl.”
I’ve already completed my daily word count goal, replied to my agent to tell her that I’ll have the book ready by the deadline, and now I have nothing to do. I grab my phone off my lap and scroll through the dating app.
I’d message the girls and see if they want to hang out, but Sage is in New York for the weekend and Elena is working today. I’m all by myself, which might mean I’m liable to do something I regret.
The date I scheduled is still pending and I reach out to him to ask if he wants to meet tonight. I don’t have to wait for Drew. I can go on a date by myself.
While I wait for the reply, I pick up my book off the small table next to me. Drew has a bunch of papers stacked there and they flutter to the ground. Cursing under my breath, I swing my legs off the lounger and reach down, picking up the papers.
As I start stacking them, I notice they’re not just papers. They’re sketches. Mostly of Bailey, some of the big tree which is outside my window, the backyard. Some are black and white, but most are colored, so the backyard is sketched in a vibrancy of colors at different times of the day.
At DC in the corner tells me these sketches belong to Drew. And he just left them here like they mean nothing.
“Your dad will never cease to confuse me,” I say to Bailey.
These sketches are beautiful. I didn't even know Drew sketched. I don’t think Lavinia even knows or I would have found out about it from her.
I stand up, walking into the house. I knock on the door of the den, wondering if he’s sketching in there right now. His room and the den are the only two places I haven’t been in.
I hear movement on the door side and a second later, the door swings open. Drew pushes his glasses up his nose, looking at me in question.
“Everything okay?”
He’s been giving me space since yesterday, when I lied to him about not crying, and I’m not sure I appreciate it. We’re the only two people in the house and I’ve gotten accustomed to his presence.
“Are these yours?” I hold up the sketches.
Drew looks down at the papers, uninterested at first. Then his eyes widen as he sees exactly what I’m holding. He takes them from my hand.
“Where did you find these?” he asks.
“Out on the deck,” I reply.
He tosses them somewhere behind him, crossing his arms. “Thanks. Anything else?”
My eyes narrow on him. Why is he being rude? When he was always rude to me, I was used to it. Now that he’s been nice, his rudeness is abrasive and it chafes.
“Is there something you want to say to me?” I ask.
He shakes his head, expression unreadable. “I don’t think so.”
“I’m going on a date tonight. I realize it’s not part of our social experiment but--”
Drew is already shaking his head. “Don’t worry about it. Date whoever and whenever you like.”
My mouth flattens into a line. I don’t know what’s going on, and I’m not sure I like it.
“Great!” I say, in this fake chirpy voice.
“Anything else?” he asks again.
“Nope.”
I turn around and walk away before my urge to kick him in the shin surfaces. I will never understand men.
“Are you sure you’re okay?”
My dart zips through the air and lands directly on bullseye.
“Holden, this is like the fifth time you’ve asked.
” I turn to face him. The Titans winger was upstairs visiting his family when I came in for my date.
When Mr. Archer saw me sitting by myself--because I needed another reminder from the universe why I don’t date and why the dates have been a failure--he asked Holden to come join me.
Now we’re playing darts and beating him at the game is slowly making my spirits rise.
“I know, I just want to confirm,” Holden says, as he walks to remove the darts from the boards.
“I’m fine. It’s not the first bad date I’ve had.”
First, my date, whose name I’ve purged from my mind, showed up thirty minutes late.
Then he complained that sports bars aren’t his style.
Archer’s has been a staple in the area for nearly sixty years and everyone knows the Titans come here after every home game whether they win or lose.
Clearly, he whose name I don’t remember wasn’t a sports fan, which is fine, because I’m not sold on the idea, either.
Then he asked me to rate myself on a scale of one to ten on what kind of girlfriend I think I’ll be. As if all that wasn’t bad enough, when a server came to take our order, he put his hand on my thigh, and requested to order on my behalf.
The date was over right then. I can put up with people being absolute arses and give them the benefit of the doubt, but when they cross my personal boundary, I’m done.
I don’t care if it was a small touch over my jeans. I didn’t give him permission to touch me.
Holden comes back and hands the darts back to me. “Any chance you’ll let me win?”
I eye him. “Do you ask your opponent on the ice if they’ll let you win?”
“They’re usually not as brutal as you are.”
I grin wolfishly as I throw a dart, which lands just off center of the bullseye. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Holden texting on his phone and I turn to him with my hands on my hips.
“What are you doing?” I ask.
“Texting.”
I roll my eyes. “I see that. You better not be texting the HoBros about my bad date.”
Holden sets his phone down. “I’m not texting the group. I’d never do that.”
Strangely, I believe him. The Titans and the men who raised them--for the most part--might be the only good men left on the planet.
“Are you sure you don’t have plans? A girl you’d rather be spending the night with?” I chew on my lips as I look up at him.
Holden smiles brightly, one corner lifting up higher than the other. He has a really charming smile to match his equally charming personality. “Why would I leave the company of the beautiful woman I’m with to go somewhere else?”
“Don’t flatter me, it’s not going to work.”
“Are you sure about that?” He winks at me and I can’t stop myself from blushing.
I wrinkle my nose, turning away from him.
As I do, I catch someone in the corner of the room, watching us.
At first think it’s another creepster because the universe is determined to fuck with me, but then I really look.
“You texted Drew?!” I turn to Holden, betrayal clear in my voice.
He winces, his eyes going to Drew in the corner. “I didn’t ask him to come here.”
“The man is a control freak, what did you think was going to happen?” I shake my head.
I’m not talking to him. I don’t care that he came here.
“I texted him before I came down and told him I’ll drive you home,” Holden says. He looks at me with puppy-dog eyes and I find myself melting. He thought he was doing the right thing. It’s not like he knows I’m mad at Drew.
“Fine. But I’m not talking to him.”
He looks behind me. “That might be something you should say directly to him.”
I exhale sharply, rolling my eyes as I turn around to face the bane of my existence. If only I was the object of his desire.
“I’m not talking to you so don’t bother.”
Drew nods in easy acceptance. “That’s fine, I’ll just sit here.”
He grabs a stool at the high top Holden and I are sitting at. I can feel his eyes on me as I turn away. I throw the dart and miss for the first time tonight.
“Ignoring all the tension, I’m really glad you’re here because it means I might actually win a game,” Holden says.
I glare at him. “I missed once,” I say through gritted teeth.
His dart goes awry, landing nowhere near the board, and I smirk.
“Let me try,” Drew says, standing up.
“Gladly. I’m tired of losing.” He hands Drew his darts.
“Traitor,” I call after him as he walks away. He waves over his shoulder.
Drew throws a dart. “Can I ask why you’re not talking to me?”
I don’t reply as I walk over to pull the darts out of the board. As I walk by, Drew hooks his finger through a belt loop on my jeans and stops me, pulling me closer.
My heart thuds inside my chest, not from fear this time. From something else entirely. I meet his eyes, and find him looking at me with a small smile.
“Care to explain yourself?” he asks.
“You were rude to me,” I snap, turning away from him.
He shifts behind me. “I know, I’m sorry. I was distracted before you knocked on the door and I wasn’t expecting you to be standing there holding those sketches.”
My curiosity will be the death of me. I turn to face him. “Why not?”
“Because it’s not something I show people.”
“Why not?” I ask again. “They’re really good.”
He chuckles humorlessly. “That will be because drawing is impractical and it’s not something you can make a viable career out of.”