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“You’re lucky she gives a fuck about you, or you’d already be in the ground.” Sebastian growls, all teeth, and honestly, this is far too serious of a conversation to have before nine o’clock.
"Okay, pause." I step between them and sigh. "If you two must argue, can it be done without me being rolled up in a sheet?”
Sebastian's fingers slice through his hair, and he curses while Drew gives me a long, sweeping gaze that turns my insides to molten lava, even given the situation.
Damn him.
"Can I put some clothes on so we can talk, or are you two going to kill each other while I brush my teeth?"
No response. Go figure. They continue to glare at each other but remain silent.
Great. I snag my clothes off the floor and stare at the ripped tights and mud-stained skirt. Shit. Instead of gathering them up to salvage what I can, I cross the room to the dresser on the other side. However, before I can dig into his drawers, I spot a small stack of clothing on top. An Oakmount T-shirt and a pair of basketball shorts. Shit. No underwear.
While I trek back to the bathroom, I refuse to look at either of them. I will not be shamed by this or any of my choices ever again. Men do whatever they want all the time and are never judged. I refuse to be judged.
Dressing quickly, I do my best to ignore the fact that the clothes I’m wearing are not only Drew's but smell like him and search through the bathroom drawers for another toothbrush. I find a bunch of extras in the third drawer and snag one. I brush my teeth and check my reflection in the mirror. I look like me, but happier and stronger. I can do this. I can handle these idiot cavemen.
When I finish brushing, I leave the bathroom and walk back into the bedroom to find them exactly as I left them, staring at one another like statues. Their jaws tense, and each is a pot of boiling water ready to boil over. I hope I won’t have to referee them forever.
That’s if Drew and I can get through all this bullshit and find happiness on the other side. I want to find a solution to this...tension between us, but I’m afraid we won’t ever be able to overcome our trauma.
Turning my attention to Sebastian, I ask, "Can you please give us a minute to talk?"
Sebastian sighs long and loudly, then glances over my shoulder at Drew, even though his words were for me. "I'll be waiting in the hallway to take you home. Make it quick."
“You aren’t my boss or my parent, Sebastian. Stop acting like you are,” I say as he leaves the room.
He doesn’t respond and slams the door behind him when he walks out. The coiled tension in Drew seems to unfurl as he lets his shoulder relax, his fists finally uncurl. His eyes shine with pure discontempt, and those eyes eventually find mine.
I wrap my arms around myself, trying not to fall apart.
“What the hell, Drew?” I feel conflicted. “What is this invitation?”
I want to give in to him, to run into his arms and let him hold me, but at the same time, I need to guard my heart and ensure I protect myself from harm.
“All this shit is a stunt to pull us apart. I mean, would it make a difference if I told you I didn’t know anything about the invitation? But it’s not the invitation he’s pissed about. He knew that was coming. It was my father’s demand that Sebastian bring you to the meeting.”
I shrug, “I don’t know. I find that hard to believe. When it comes to your father, you know everything. You’re one of his many forever-moving chess pieces.”
Drew grimaces as if I slapped him, and a tiny hint of guilt unfurrows.
It’s not a lie.
“I know that I’ve fucked up and followed along with my father’s charades before, but I’m done with that shit, Bel. I’m no longer a pawn or chess piece to him. I’m trying to fix this. To do better. Fuck me, Bel. Believe me. Believe me when I tell you I didn’t know about the meeting or the stupid invitation. Just because I’m his son doesn’t mean he tells me everything.”
“I get it, and I want to believe you…”
Shaking his head, he presses his fist against his forehead and turns away from me. The suffocating anguish and anger he’s feeling wafts off him in waves. He feels helpless, and I know that feeling all too well. I want to fix this for him, but I can’t, and while I’m terrified of losing him, all while keeping him at arm's length, I know that at some point, I’ll lose him anyway if I don’t let him back in.
My fingers itch to touch him, and I curl my fingers into my hand to stop myself.
Heartbeats pass, the tense muscles in his back shift, and he turns around to face me again. Dark green eyes meet mine, and a battle of emotions clashes in their depths.
“Jesus, fuck, you’re acting like we have this wonderful relationship when you know better. Even when I was following along with his bullshit, I was doing it to protect you. I remember you telling me that I didn’t mean the things I was saying. You knew then that I cared and was trying to do the right thing. ”
Every word he speaks tugs on my heartstrings.
I hate how easily I melt for him.
