Chapter 33

Delilah

“Why are you frowning this time?”

I pull my eyes from my phone and look up at Ivy. The scowl on her face rivals the one that has marked mine for the last week.

“There’s a party near campus,” I mutter and slap my phone on the coffee table.

Tucking my legs up and resting my head on my knees, I watch her as she stuffs her purse full of lord knows what.

“And you didn’t get invited?”

I huff. “I’m always invited. It looks like it’s going to be a blast and yet I’ll be here, seeing as I promised to stop partying.”

“Such a travesty,” she mocks. “Now tell me the truth.”

My head lifts from my knees, and I look out the window.

“No clue what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t give me that crap.” Sitting down on my left she forces herself into my line of sight. “You’ve been grumpy for days.”

“I haven’t,” I argue.

Her eyebrow cocks up, and she gives me the look, the one that says she knows I’m full of shit and I just need to spill it.

“I’m pretty sure it has everything to do with Lawson. You told me he took you to get the rental, but something else happened didn’t it?”

“I’m going to be making love to you for the rest of my life,” says the man who then never calls or stops by.

I close my eyes, but the heat of her gaze burns hot on my face. She’s relentless, and I know she won’t give up.

I squeeze them tighter, the sting of the tears I allowed on the drive back from the rental place renewed with thoughts of him.

“We had,” I begin, but stop short. “We fucked in his truck.”

“He had sex with you in a truck?” I can hear the disdain in her voice, and for some reason, it rubs me the wrong way.

“I fucked him in his truck.” I don’t question the defense of his honor. I can hate him all day long. I can regret the things we did, a week ago as well as back home, but I won’t put the blame on him for something of my own doing. I won’t let anyone else do that either.

I hear her sigh. Opening my eyes, I find sadness in hers.

“Well, you said you were going to.” A comforting hand reaches out and rests on my shoulder. “So it was awful? You built him up all this time, and then he sucked at the banging?”

“Banging?” I chuff a laugh. “I wish he sucked at it.”

A wide grin spreads across her face. “You liked it too much, and now you’re having trouble with the one and done.”

Not a question. She reads me like a book.

“Not like I have much of a choice. He hasn’t called or come by all week. Seems he doesn’t have a problem with one and done.”

“He will. I’m certain of that. He’s not like the shitheads you meet at those stupid parties. The way he looked at you.” She looks away, a dreamy light shining in her eyes. “I’d give anything for someone to look at me like that.”

“You mean Griffin.”

She snaps her head back in my direction. “What?”

“You want Griffin to look at you that way.”

Her lips tilt up in the corners, but she catches herself before it turns into a full smile.

“I’m no longer waiting for him,” she says with confidence.

It’s my turn to reach out to her. “If you love him, you need to wait. He’s worth waiting for, Ivy. Believe me, you don’t want to live with the regret if you get a chance with him.”

I should know, my own regret nearly levels me every day.

“He’s supposed to be home for Thanksgiving,” she adds changing the subject.

I may have silently pined after Lawson for two years, but Ivy has been infatuated with Griffin since she realized boys existed. He was the first boy she ever saw, and she’s been watching him ever since.

“I say corner him and kiss him senseless.”

“I wish,” she mutters.

Before I can offer any more sound advice, my cell phone rings.

Although the number is unfamiliar, I can see that it’s local. I shrug at Ivy and answer.

“Hello?”

“Ms. Donovan?”

“Speaking. How can I help you?” I eye Ivy as she gets off of the couch, grabs her gym bag and waves her goodbye.

“This is Joel from Camel Towing. Your car is ready to be picked up.”

I let out a relieved sigh. “Awesome. Give me about an hour? I have to drop the rental off.”

“Sure thing,” he replies. “We’re open until six.”

***

“Ready my ass,” I hiss as I climb out of the Uber and see my car still up on that damn rack inside of the shop.

On a mission to rip Lawson’s ass, I stomp across the parking lot to the big garage door, stopping short when the man of the damn hour appears wiping his greasy hands on a shop towel.

He looks over my head, darting his eyes back and forth.

“What the hell are you doing here, Delilah?”

I take a step back, caught off guard by his irritation.

“Joel called and said my car was ready,” I explain when all I want to do is find the heaviest thing in my reach and knock him upside the head with it. Violent idealizations are new to me, and the realization only makes me madder.

“Obviously he’s mistaken,” he says looking over his shoulder, first at my car and then at Joel.

The wide grin on the old man’s face doesn’t match what I would expect from someone sorry for making a mistake.

“What did you do?” Lawson asks his business partner.

“Wrong car,” Joel murmurs and disappears back inside, but pops his head back out. “You’ve been bristly for a damn week. I was getting tired of it.”

“This isn’t your business,” Lawson hisses.

Joel, I’m sure used to his attitude, just waves a shop towel at him and disappears again. I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from smiling. Just the thought of Lawson being as miserable as I have over the last week brings a certain joy.

“Ma’am,” he says as he sweeps his arm toward the front door of the shop. His official tone enrages me.

Fuck me in the truck then pretend I’m some random customer? Not today, Satan. Not today.

“If you’ll follow me, I’ll be able to provide more info on your vehicle.”

I follow him, only because I’m losing my shit, and crying this close to the street isn’t something I’ll ever do. I want to turn and walk away, but my rental car has been safely returned, and it would take ten to fifteen minutes for another Uber to show up.

He closes the blinds on the door the second I step inside. Next thing I know, I’m plastered against the wall, and his body is hovering over mine.

“The fuck are you doing?” I push at his chest, but I’m not strong enough to create even an inch of distance between us.

“Why are you fighting me?” The low purr of his voice combined with the desire visible in his eyes is more than I can handle.

“Get off,” I spit.

I straighten my clothes when he backs away a few inches.

“Why?” he asks again.

“Seriously? You treated me like shit two years ago, you talk to me that way outside?” I point behind me for emphasis. “Then you want to jump on me the first fucking second no one is around?”

“You don’t understand,” he mutters, his large hand running over his face.

“I sure as hell don’t. I also don’t trust you. It’s like you’re two different damn people and I never know which asshole is going to come out and play when I’m around.”

“I’ve got a lot of shit going on right now,” he says taking another step back. “It’s not safe for you to be here right now.”

My blood runs cold. “Afraid your girlfriend will find out we fucked last week?”

I slide past him and sit down in the old chair in front of the desk. After pulling my phone out of my pocket, I use the app to schedule another driver to pick me up.

I realize too late that sitting in the chair only gives him more power over me.

With hands resting on the armrests, he leans in close enough that each of his exhales are breathed into my own lungs. “My girlfriend was there when we fucked, and she’s sitting right here looking amazing, gorgeous, and totally fuckable.”

I tilt my head to the side, the only way to get a couple of inches between our mouths. “You need your head checked.”

“We’ve been apart for too long, and you’re crazy if you think I’m walking away from you again.”

“Two years,” I lament more to myself than him before turning my eyes up to meet his. “Things would’ve been different if you’d only waited eighteen months.”

He looks confused.

“I could’ve given you all of me then.”

Why am I even vocalizing this to him?

“You gave me all of you last week,” he counters.

The tears that only seem to make an appearance when he’s around pool on my bottom lashes. He kisses each one, the moisture glistening on his lips when he pulls away.

“Quit fighting this,” he begs.

“I’m not that same girl from New Mexico.”

“You’re better,” he whispers.

I shake my head. “I hate that you waited. I hate that we’ve been so close for so long and you came to work every day and couldn’t be bothered to reach out to me.”

He backs away, his full face coming into view. “I was working on myself, becoming a man you could be proud of.”

“I was proud of the man you were then.” I frown. “Well, I thought I was, but your actions proved who you really were.”

“I can apologize for that night a hundred times a day for the rest of our lives if you need me to, but eventually you need to forgive me so we can move past it.”

“I don’t know if I can.”

A loud bang snaps both of our heads in the direction of the shop.

“Shit,” Joel grumbles.

When Lawson looks back at me, all of the care and comfort that I love so much is there, but there’s a tinge of agitation in his eyes that’s making his brow furrow.

“Let me take you home,” he offers.

“No need,” I say and stand from the chair. “I called an Uber.”

“Princess,” he chides. “Just go get in the damn truck.”

I smile as he escorts me with a hand to my back, but regain a look of impassivity before he can see it. I hate the alarm bells and constant arguments going on between my head and my heart.