I stand there with Saylor beside me and watch as everyone disappears up the steps. Gramps put everyone on his side of the house, except for Saylor. She’s on my side. I can’t help but wonder what the old man’s up to. I know he likes Saylor. Me, on the other hand, he’s not a fan of these days. Maybe he can sense the attraction I have for her. He’s putting her on my side of the house to torture me. To know that she’s sleeping right across the hall in my clothes. Yeah, he didn’t offer to get her anything to sleep in. I didn’t miss that either. He’s fucking with me.
“This way,” I say, placing my hand on the small of her back and leading her to the steps. She doesn’t say anything, just lets me guide her up the stairs. “This is your room. Let me get you something to sleep in.”
“Thank you, Rhett.”
I nod and disappear into my room. I almost offered for her to follow me in, but I know that’s a bad decision. I’m not sure I would let her leave once I got her in here. Grabbing a Baxter’s Distillery T-shirt and a pair of flannel pajama pants, I hand them to her in the hallway. “There’s an attached bath, so you can change in there. If you need anything, I’m just across the hall.” I take a step toward her.
“I’ll be fine. Goodnight, Whiskey,” she whispers.
Not able to resist, I lean in and press my lips to her forehead. “Goodnight, Say.” Stepping back, I turn and disappear into my room.
Stripping down to my boxer briefs, I decide, with guests in the house, I better wear some pajamas as well. Grabbing a pair of flannel pants, just like the ones that I gave Saylor, I slide them on and climb into bed. When I close my eyes, all I can see is Saylor earlier on the couch. Her big blue eyes staring down at me. I can feel her fingers as they slide through my hair. My cock stirs to life. I ignore it. I refuse to take matters into my own hands when the real thing is just across the hall. It would be a poor-ass substitute for her.
I toss and turn for the better part of an hour before giving up. Throwing off the covers, I decide to go downstairs and grab a glass of milk and maybe one of those cookies to distract me. Quietly as I can, I pull open my door and step out into the hallway. The house is quiet, so the sound of her soft whimper is easy to hear. Stepping closer to her door, I lay my ear against it, listening. I don’t want to go barging in, but I need to know she’s okay. Sniffling and soft crying greet me. Without further thought, I tap lightly on the door. She doesn’t answer. Slowly, I turn the knob. “Saylor?”
“I-I’m fine,” she says with a sniff.
The sound of her cries has my chest tightening. I step into the room and shut the door behind me. “What’s wrong?”
“N-n-nothing, I’m okay. I promise. Just… a rough day.”
Stepping further into the room, I take a seat on the edge of the bed. I take a minute to appreciate the view. The moonlight is giving off a faint glow, just enough so I can see her hair spread out across the pillows. I can’t really see her face, but I can imagine it’s red, her eyes puffy from her tears. There is no doubt she’s beautiful.
“Want to talk about it?” I ask her. I’m not really good at this kind of thing, but damn if I can leave her be to cry herself to sleep.
“I’m okay.” She places her hand on my arm to reassure me.
It doesn’t. I know she’s trying to pacify me, but her touch, well, let’s just say my already stiff cock is begging for attention. “Try again,” I tell her.
“It’s nothing. It’s life.” She laughs humorlessly.
“Come on, Short Stack, you can do better than that.”
“Why do you call me that?” she asks. “I mean, I told you why I call you Whiskey.”
I ponder whether or not I should tell her. Maybe it will distract her. “You’re short,” I say, reaching out and tapping her nose.
“Maybe to you. You’re a damn giant,” she says. “How tall are you?”
“Six four. How tall are you?”
“Five four,” she laughs. “I get it.”
“That’s not all though.”
“No?”
“Nope. These,” I say, brushing my hand across her chest. “Stacked.”
“Seriously?” she asks, surprised.
“Hell yes,” I assure her.
“I’m average at best.”
Leaning down so she can see my face, I say, “You’re perfect. Now, tell me what’s bothering you.”
“It’s hard to explain.”
“I’ve got nothing but time.” Standing I round the bed and climb in opposite of her. “Turn over,” I whisper. She does as I ask. Reaching out, I tuck her hair behind her ear. “Start talking, gorgeous.” She’s quiet, and I’m not sure she’s going to talk. I wait her out. I rest my hand on her hip, letting her know I’m still here.
“When I was two, my parents were killed in a car accident. They were both products of the foster care system, so they had no family.”
Fuck me. I’m smart enough to read through the lines. I remain quiet, letting her think about what to say next.
“That left me to the same upbringing. I bounced around from home to home. Some were okay, others were… not. Don’t get me wrong, I’m one of the lucky ones. I escaped before anything terrible could happen. There was some inappropriate touching above my clothes from a few of the older foster kids at my last home. I was twelve. Elaine, she was my social worker and m-my parents,’” she says, her words breaking with so much damn pain.
I want to tell her that she doesn’t have to tell me, but I think she needs this. To talk about it. I need this. I have this deep-seated desire to know everything about her. I’m like a sponge soaking up as much as I can. Over the past few weeks, she’s slithered her way under my skin, and now I need it all.
“She was retiring that year. Her husband passed several years earlier from cancer. It would have been too hard for her to be a single mother, but after the final incident and with her retirement, she took me. She brought me into her home as my foster mother.” She takes a deep, shuddering breath. “She had a few pictures of them, of my parents. She didn’t want to give them to me until I was old enough to take care of them. It’s a good thing, because anything I ever had was destroyed at whatever home I was in. Most of the families took as many kids as they could house and the state not ride their case. They did it for the money. Elaine, she did it because she was that kind of person. Her heart was huge, always giving back.”
Rolling over, I grab the box of tissues and hand them to her.
“She became my family. She told me my parents loved me and they were so happy when they found out about me. They went to visit her, to tell her the news.” She closes her eyes. “Elaine and I, we baked every Christmas. We would make tins full of goodies to pass out to what felt like half the town.” She laughs softly. “It’s just hard, you know? This is my first Christmas without her.”
“When did she pass?” She didn’t say that’s what happened, but from the way she talks about her and her being here in West Virginia all alone, that is the only answer. No way would either of them ever been without the other during the holidays, not with the way she speaks of her.
“October,” she murmurs.
“Saylor.” Her name is a plea from my lips. My fucking heart is cracking for this beautiful broken girl. Not able to fight it, I pull her against my chest, resting my chin on the top of her head.
“Pete, that was my ex’s name, he and I decided to sell her house, since we were living here. I went back and cleaned it out, kept a few things, packed up the rest and donated. That day, the day I left her house for the last time, I was in a hurry to get home. Pete and I had dinner plans. When he got home, he was acting weird. He said we needed to talk. Basically, he told me he was getting married. He had gotten his receptionist, who we both worked with since I worked for his family’s company, pregnant. He had been seeing her behind my back.”
“Motherfucker,” I mumble.
“He let me sell her house, my home.” She sobs into my chest.
I can do nothing but hold onto her. Let her know she’s not alone. She’s wrecked me with her confession, so I know her pain has to be unbearable. Her body wracks with sobs, and I hold her tighter, kissing the top of her head.
“He knew,” she finally says after she’s calmed down. “He knew he was leaving me, and he let me sell it. I left and went to a hotel. I felt like the walls were closing in on me, so I went out. On the way to the hotel, I remembered passing a bar, and that’s when I met Molly and Jake. Molly found out I needed a place to stay and a job, because no way could I go back to working with Pete and his baby mama. They helped me.” She says piecing the story together the best she can through her tears.
“They’re good people,” I say, kissing the top of her head again.
“They are. I have a friend, Tara, back in Cincinnati. She tried to get me to move with her, but I chose not to. A few weeks later, she ended up moving to Oregon with her fiancé. She called me a few weeks ago and was angry that I wouldn’t come visit her. We’ve been friends for years, but now that I’m looking at life from a different angle, I see it was more one sided. I’m alone, and sometimes it just gets to me, you know?” she asks through her tears.
“You’re not alone, baby. You’ve got Molly and Jake and me and my family and Jerry; we can’t forget that crazy old man,” I say, trying to lighten the mood.
She laughs. “He’s great,” she defends him.
“He is. They all are, and you’re a part of that now.”
“I’m sorry,” she says, lifting her head and wiping her tears from my bare chest.
“Nothing to be sorry for, Saylor.”
She lays her head back on my chest. “Can you… I mean, do you think you could stay just until I fall asleep?”
Slayed. “I’m not going anywhere,” I say, holding her a little tighter. Her cries begin to quiet, and her breathing becomes even. I know she’s asleep, but I don’t bother moving. I don’t want to risk waking her. In a matter of weeks, I’ve went from sparring with her every chance I could get to wanting to take her pain away. The more I get to know her, the more I want her. Not just because she’s this gorgeous girl who is stacked. No, it’s because of who she is. She’s unlike anyone I’ve ever met. She’s so fucking strong and resilient. Her story, everything she’s been through. I know there’s more from her time in foster care that she didn’t reveal. What she did reveal was more than enough to gut me. To make me want to track those fuckers down and teach them a lesson for touching her… I take a deep breath. I need to calm down. She’s here, in my arms, safe from the craziness that was her life until she went to live with Elaine.
My mind drifts to her ex. I knew just from looking at him that day at the store he was a real piece of work, but how could he do that to her? Let her give up her home, just to turn around days later and tell her that he’s marrying someone else. Fucker better be glad I didn’t know then what I know now. He also better hope I never run into him again.
Saylor nuzzles closer and mumbles, “Stay.”
Relaxing into the mattress, I kiss the top of her head and close my eyes. I’m not going anywhere.