Chapter 7

To Build a home

Seeing my old room stripped bare, takes my fucking breath away. As I packed up my things today, I felt like I was closing a door on a part of my life which I’ll never reopen. Fuck, all of my wounds are so fucking raw. I feel so exposed and torn the fuck opened. This was the room I grew up in, the room where Dean and I would watch movies into the early hours of the morning on a school night. Seeing it now—with the walls cleared of the many posters I had hung, and all the furniture gone—makes it look just like any old room. I say my last goodbyes as I pick up the lone box sitting in the room’s center. I close the door on my past and head down the hall. Approaching Dean’s room stops me in my tracks at his door, before I can make it to the stairs at the end of the hallway. My jaw clenches and I close my eyes for a moment, trying to will away the pain.

I know I’m not ready to see it, but I just can’t help myself. Before I can control my movements, I’m placing the box on the ground and opening the door to his room. I can barely breathe as I realize it’s just like he left it from the time he lived here after his college years. My parents haven’t touched it. His bedding is still mussed as if it were just yesterday that he slept there, and some of his old clothes are neatly stacked on top of his desk chair. I walk inside his room to take a closer look. It feels like him in here. I can smell his cologne as if my mother had just sprayed it all over the room. In all honesty, she could have. Dad told me she spent a few nights in here after my brother’s death. She slept in his bed and wept; nothing my dad did seemed to appease her. It was like that for the first few days, when the wounds caused by Dean’s death were still so incredibly fresh, but then her entire demeanor changed. My dad told me she went from being a mourning mother back to her normal, artificial self. Of course, he didn’t say the last part quite like that, but he didn’t have to. I know exactly how she can be.

I cross the room and sit on his bed and try to stifle the emotions that crash into me. I lie down and close my eyes, wishing our lives could’ve been different. He wasn’t supposed to die young. He never did anything to deserve it. I was the one who did everything wrong. I put myself in dangerous situations all of the time. I threw my life away and didn’t consider any sort of future because I never believed I would live long enough to have one. I was practically destined to die young and yet, here I am, still alive and well, while my brother is long gone. I sit up so quickly I experience a tinge of vertigo and tug on my hair, pulling at my roots and enjoying the pain. It distracts me long enough to pull myself together. I need to get going. Dad and Grey are downstairs with the movers and I want to get all settled into my apartment by night fall. I can’t sit around here and dwell on Dean all day. It isn’t healthy. It’s the first day of August; a brand-new month and a fresh start.

I get up and give the room one last glance. Before I can help myself, I begin to speak to an empty room. “Hey, Dean.” I pause as if waiting for his ghost to answer me. Fuck, I must look insane right now. “I’m trying my best with Grey. I just wish you were here, Brother.” I pause, trailing my hand along one of his bookshelves and sighing. “I promise I’ll always do my best. Although, I have no idea why you chose me to do this.” Silence answers me and I take another step toward the door. “Goodbye, Brother.”

Without looking back, I exit his bedroom and close the door behind me, picking up my box off the floor and heading to the staircase. Although my mind aches, I feel a sense of relief. I didn’t receive a bit of closure when he died. I wish I could’ve said goodbye to him… could have told him I loved him one final time. Dean and his wife were hit by a drunk driver on their way home from a date. The driver crashed into them and drove away, not caring at all about the lives he was destroying in the process. Cat died on impact, but my brother survived the crash and was airlifted to a hospital where he died on the operating table. My dad called me about twenty times that night. His voicemails were begging me to pick up the phone; he begged me to try to make it back home and to the hospital, but I didn’t pick up. I woke up the next morning, with a major hangover; and while lying next to a naked, nameless woman, I listened to his messages. When I finally made it to the hospital it was far too late. That night will always fucking haunt me.

That’s part of the reason I’m so adamant about making everyone proud. Especially my brother. If he can see me right now, I want him to see I’m doing everything I can to take care of his son. I’m doing everything I can to make up for not being there, righting the wrong I made so many weeks ago.

When I finally make it outside, I find a frantic Grey in my dad’s arms. “I think he got worried when he didn’t see you out here,” he says as he waits for me to load the last box onto the moving truck before handing Grey over to me.

“Hey, buddy. It’s okay. I’m here now,” I assure him as I hold him tightly against my chest. He nuzzles his face against my neck and his cries slowly begin to dissipate. “Sorry, Dad. It was sort of weird leaving my old room behind for good.” I hope I don’t have to move back here for any reason. I want to prove that I can be self-sufficient.

“We understand, Trevor. Are you ready to move into your new apartment?” Dad questions, in the voice he always uses when he’s trying to get me excited for something. I roll my eyes at him and grin before getting Grey settled into his car seat.

Moving may be difficult but moving with a baby is far worse. Grey demands my attention as I try to get our new apartment in order. Between Dad and me—along with the movers—we manage to get everything setup in record time. It doesn’t look perfect, but it’s mine. To celebrate, Dad orders dinner as soon as the movers leave. I sit down on my couch in my apartment with Grey in my arms and bask in the immense satisfaction that I feel. I used to hate the idea of having a simple life. The type of life that requires paying bills, going to work every day, and being a productive member of society. It all seemed so fucking monotonous to me. However, now the idea of living a simple, normal life is comforting. I never realized how jaded I was until my brother died. His death catapulted me back to reality.

While I was self-medicating and sleeping on random couches with random people beside me, I truly believed I was living some sort of passionate and artistic life. I thought I was above the sort of life society demanded. Truly, I was just a fool. I didn’t understand what true passion was. I thought I was happy, but I was genuinely empty inside. It wasn’t all bad, but I had nothing to live for. Now that I have Grey—he is my life. He’s the reason I do everything. He deserves a better life, and so do I.

“This is a nice place,” Dad comments after our food has arrived and we sit down to eat.

“Yeah, it looks a lot better now that it’s furnished,” I say with a proud smile. “Thanks for another TV by the way. I know my old one’s about to die.” With my CR-TV, my old flat-screen, and this brand new seventy-five-incher, I’ll be fucking set.

“Yeah, your television set from ten years ago wasn’t going to hold up much longer.”

Dad’s been more than generous. He’s given me some of his old furniture he stored down in the basement, as well as a ton of glassware, plates, and kitchen utensils, so Grey and I wouldn’t have to live off paper plates until I could afford something better. He’s supported me every step of the way and I don’t think I can thank him enough.

“Your mom wanted to be here, Trevor. It’s just she’d already planned on going to that party for the past few months now. I know she’s cross with me for not going with her.”

I nod in acceptance. I understand. Moving out isn’t the most important thing in the world and to her—it’s barely an accomplishment. I’m happy she’s not here. I don’t need her to rain on my fucking parade. I’m happy with myself and I’m proud enough for all of us. I don’t need her to come and make snide remarks about anything.

“It’s fine, Dad. I knew a day of moving wasn’t going to be something she’d be interested in.”

He gives me a knowing smile but doesn’t comment. After dinner we watch a game on my new television before he calls it a night.

“So, it’s cool if I drop Grey off around five tomorrow morning? I’ve got to be at work by five-thirty.”

“Of course, Trev. I’ll be up.”

Part of me doesn’t want my dad to leave. As much as I hate to admit it, I’m kind of fucking nervous. This is my first night alone with a baby and I’m afraid I’m going to mess something up and something bad will happen to him. All the horrible types of infant deaths I read about online flash through my mind as I watch my dad gets off the couch and head toward the door. It finally sinks in that I’ll be taking care of a baby alone and I’m fucking terrified.

“You’ll do fine, Trevor,” Dad says, easily reading my expression.

I run a hand nervously through my hair and kiss Grey’s forehead before answering, “Can I call you if I’ve got any issues?”

“Of course,” he says, pausing to look at me. “You’ll do great, son.”

I wish I could believe him. As soon as he’s gone, the apartment feels empty. If anything happens to Grey my parents are only twenty minutes away. Nothing is going to happen, Trev! Stop with all of the fucking negativity. I take a deep, shaky breath and look at Grey, who seems unperturbed by the whole thing.

“It’s just you and me, little man.”

He smiles at this and I carry him to his new nursery. I’m so proud of this room. I spent a good chunk of money on it because I wanted it to be perfect for him. He had a room at my brother’s place, of course, and then had a make-shift nursery with my parents’ house. He deserves a room all of his own again. A room he can grow up in. Maybe one day I could paint the walls for him, just like my dad did for me when I was a kid. I take him around the room and show him the bookcase I purchased, filled with all the kid’s books I managed to find on sale. I show him his new toy chest, filled with some of his old stuffed animals along with a few new ones I purchased for him. I show him the rocking chair my dad bought for me and his crib my mother bought for him before he was born.

“Do you like it, Grey?” I ask, feeling nervous even though I know he can’t answer me. I want him to like it here.

He makes a garbled noise I can’t understand before giving me a bright smile. I take that as a “yes.” Satisfied with his response, I choose a book off the shelf and sit down to read to him. Where the Wild Things Are is one of my old favorites, and, by the looks of it, Grey loves it just as much as I once did. He’s so animated as I read to him. He looks so surprised every time I turn the page, eager to see the illustrations as if to figure out what happens next. When I finish the book, he begins to cry, so I start at the beginning once more, reading until he falls asleep in my arms.

A half hour later, I’m lying in bed, but sleep doesn’t come. It’s hard to sleep knowing my nephew is down the hall and anything could happen to him. Now that I’m alone with him, I’m even more paranoid. I toss and turn for a few more minutes before giving up and sliding out of bed. I bound down the hall to his nursery, and carefully roll his crib into my room. Until I get a baby monitor, I want him to sleep close to me. Hell, I’m sure even after I have a baby monitor I’ll insist on this. He whimpers in his sleep and opens his eyes for a moment and smiles at me. His tired grin touches my heart and I smile back before he closes his eyes. I love that little guy. Feeling relieved now that I can hear him breathing, I slide back into bed and fall quickly to sleep.

 

 

The next few days fly by in a flash. As stressful as I thought having an apartment might be, it’s actually incredibly nice. The stress of being alone with a baby is worth the distance I get from my mother. I see her every day when I pick Grey up from their house, but I never stick around. On my days off, it’s nice to have a place all to myself and get some one-on-one time with him. He’s been thrilled with the arrangement. Or at least he seems thrilled, since he obviously can’t speak, I’m not entirely sure. I know he’s happy about getting my undivided attention. We’ve had our rough patches and I’ve already had a few scares with him, but I think I’m adapting quite well.

After I get through today, I’ll have another day off, which I’m more than thankful for. My body is beginning to ache and my muscles are screaming at me. I just need some time to sit down and relax. I roll out of bed and take a quick shower, taking some extra time to enjoy the way the hot water feels against my throbbing muscles. I towel dry, then dress into my work clothes and grab my wallet and phone before going to wake-up Grey. He hates when I leave him, too young to understand it’s a necessary evil. This morning he’s more fussy than usual and won’t stop crying even after I feed him his formula.

“What’s the matter, buddy?” I ask, wishing he could answer me. I hope he’s not getting sick! Fuck, I wish I knew what to do in these types of situations. I pull my phone out of my back pocket and quickly type his symptoms into Google. Since his only symptom is the fact he won’t stop crying, Google is no use. I keep looking him over, trying to assess the issue but come up with nothing. I take him to the couch in the living room and play with him, trying anything I believe will cheer him up. My efforts are useless and he doesn’t calm down.

I pull my phone out and quickly call my boss, hoping he doesn’t get angry over me having to miss a day of work. “Jaxson!” I exclaim as soon as he picks up the phone. I can’t help but sound fucking terrified as I go on to say, “I think Grey’s sick, man. I can’t come in today.”

“Grey?” Jaxson questions, making me feel like a complete idiot.

Out of all the time I spent with Jaxson at work, I never once mentioned being someone’s legal guardian. I didn’t want to have to explain about my brother’s death, so I never brought it up. Truthfully, I don’t divulge much information about my personal life to anyone—ever. I let the guys talk and I just listen, giving my opinion every now and then. Usually, I just keep my head down and do my job.

“He’s my nephew. I’m his guardian and he’s sick or something. I think I’m going to have to take him to the hospital, man.” I know I sound lost and confused. Luckily, Jaxson seems to take pity on me.

“Okay, dude. That’s fine. Just take care of your nephew and keep me updated in case you have to miss work tomorrow, too.”

I quickly thank him and hang up, before taking Grey back to the kitchen to find another bottle for him. I place the rubber nipple in his mouth and he takes a few sips before he starts wailing.

“Come on, buddy. I know it’s not a real nipple but this is the best I can do,” I say, trying not to cry, as well.

I’m frustrated, scared, and fucking lost. I try Googling his symptoms again and a plethora of illnesses appear, which only makes me more agitated. I put down my phone and the bottle and try to calm him, praying I won’t have to take him to the doctor. Fuck, I don’t even know a doctor! I can’t even remember the last time I had a check-up. The moment my parents stopped making appointments for me, I stopped going. I think the last time I went to one was to get tested for STDs after I got my GED. That was years ago and before I religiously used condoms. I went to a clinic to get tested again around the time I returned to Colorado. I couldn’t take Grey there… I’m sure there’s some urgent care places close by, but I hope it doesn’t come to that.

“Come on, buddy. Please stop crying. I wish I knew where you were hurting so I can fix it,” I say as I wipe away some of his tears.

Minutes tick by like hours, and his cries never cease. Just as I reach for my phone to call my parents, there’s a soft knock at my front door. Shit! All of his crying has probably upset my neighbors. Just what I fucking need right now. I’ve only been in this apartment for a matter of days and I’ve already pissed someone off. They better not give me any grief. I have a sick baby for fuck’s sake. Who could be so cold-hearted?

I open the door with Grey tucked safely in the nook of my right arm and brace myself for the wrath of one of my neighbors. My jaw drops as I open the door to find the gorgeous brunette who’s been a major role in my fantasies for the past several weeks. I almost blush as I think of all the times I thought of her as I was getting myself off. She looks even more gorgeous now than she did as the leading role in my fantasies. She’s in a fluffy pink bathrobe and her waist length, curly, brown hair is wild around her face. Her face is makeup free and she looks as though she just woke-up. Natural and without an ounce of effort—she has an appearance that I’m sure many women would kill for. Finally, when I come back down to reality, I realize I’ve been staring at her for an awkward amount of time. She gives me a shy smile before looking down at Grey, who’s still crying in my arms.

“I’m so sorry if we woke you. I’m pretty sure he’s getting sick or something,” I comment, unable to take my eyes off this girl.

Her lips form into a cute, little pout. What I wouldn’t give to see those lips wrapped around my cock. I can’t help myself, I harden at the thought.

“Poor baby,” she comments, giving him a small smile.

Her voice is just as sweet as I’ve imagined it being.

“He’s been crying like this all morning. I’ve no idea what’s the matter with him,” I say, hating how nervous I sound in her presence.

She stares at him for a moment—calculating—before smiling at me. “Can I come in?”

I step aside and watch her hips sway as she walks past us. God, I love the way some women move. I shut the door behind her and kiss Grey on the forehead, taking another moment to beg him to stop crying. He’s really starting to scare me and if this brunette beauty doesn’t have a quick solution, I’m rushing him to the hospital.

She takes a seat on the couch in my living room and I sit down next to her, placing Grey safely in my lap. “Do you think he could be teething?” she questions as she examines my little guy. He gives her a curious look but continues to cry.

Teething? I don’t have the faintest clue what that is. Before I can come up with a response, she looks up at me and breaks out into an adorable smile, as soon as it’s obvious to her that I’m fucking clueless. Adorable? I’m shocked because I don’t usually use that term with women. I usually think something more along the lines of “hot,” “sexy,” or even “mind-blowing.” Never “adorable.” However, this girl is fucking adorable—along with all those other terms, too. She’s the whole package with a beautiful bow on top.

“Have his sleeping patterns been different at all? Has he not been eating like he’s supposed to?”

I shrug. Honestly, I have no idea. I guess his eating patterns have been a little off. She gives me a sympathetic smile and I can’t keep myself from staring at her.

“I have some Baby Orajel if you want to give that a try?”

I don’t know what that shit is, but it’s apparent this girl knows far more than I do about this sort of thing. “That’d be great! Thanks for this. I’d be so lost if you didn’t have the heart to drop by.”

“It’s no problem,” she says with a wave of her hand. “Let me just go across the hall and get it.”

“You live across the hall?” I ask in shock. She lives across the hall?! I’ve been rubbing one out in the shower while thinking of her and she lives across the motherfucking hall? How embarrassing is that?

She gives me a confused look before nodding. “Is that a problem?” she asks with a laugh.

“No, no,” I say, sounding like a complete moron. “I don’t know why I said that.”

She laughs at my comment and says, “I’ll be right back,” before going across the way to her apartment.

“What’s my problem?” I ask Grey, who looks up at me with his big eyes filled with tears. “It’s going to be okay, buddy,” I assure him. “That nice girl’s going to bring something that’ll hopefully make you feel all better.” He puts his hands on my chest and headbutts me before his cries become louder. I reach down to rub his back and hope my neighbor hurries her hot ass back here.

She comes back a moment later with a small tube of what I assume is Baby Orajel in her hand. Her tits bounce with every quick step she takes and I can’t help but be mesmerized by them as she moves toward us. I appreciate the little bounce they give as she sits down next to me and bends over to get a better look inside Grey’s mouth. Fuck, I hope this works. I’m going to be a complete mess if he isn’t okay. In the brief time I’ve had him, he’s become my world, and if anything ever happened to him I wouldn’t be able to handle it. Just seeing him this way makes me feel hopeless.

My beautiful neighbor squeezes out some of the ointment on her finger and says, “Can you get him to open his mouth? I have to rub this on his gums.”

I lightly squeeze Grey’s cheeks and he opens up for her.

“Aw, he must be so uncomfortable,” she comments as she applies the ointment. By the time she’s finished, Grey’s cries have turned to little whimpers.

“Thank you so much! I thought he’d never stop crying. I was getting so worried.”

“What’s the little guy’s name?”

“Greyson, but I call him Grey.”

“That’s a great name,” she compliments, before reaching down to tickle his belly. An excited laugh escapes his lips and my entire body relaxes at the sound.

“How do you know so much about kids? You were so great with him just now.”

“My older sister has a daughter,” she informs me with another beautiful smile. “She’s a toddler now and I babysit her all of the time.”

I can’t help the relief I feel when I hear this. It’ll be nice to have someone close by who knows a thing or two about babies. Of course, her being insanely attractive in my eyes is only an added bonus. I stare at her for a moment, appreciating all she has to offer, before I realize that I haven’t even introduced myself. This girl must think I’m a total recluse without a single social skill.

“Since we’re neighbors I suppose I should introduce myself,” I say with an uncomfortable laugh. “I’m Trevor Warren. I just moved in a few days ago.”

“I know,” she says with a slight blush, “I watched you move in.”

She watched me move in? I like the sound of that. “And you are?” I prompt her, trying to give her one of my cocky smiles that has always worked well for me in the past. I’m sure it looks more like an awkward grimace.

“Sorry,” she says, her blush deepening. “I’m Ronnie Clark.”

Ronnie? I’ve never heard that name before. “Ronnie? Is that short for something?”

“Veronica,” she informs me with a shy smile.

“Well, Ronnie,” I say, smiling as I use her nickname. “I’m glad you live close by. I’d never be able to figure this stuff out on my own.”

Her gaze drops to Grey and she smiles at him before looking back at me. “He looks so much like you.”

“He looks a lot more like my brother, actually,” I comment awkwardly. “Greyson’s my nephew.”

Hopefully she doesn’t ask any follow-up questions. She looks at me for a moment, as if she’s considering it, but once she sees the pain in my eyes she closes her mouth. Her eyes roam over my body, staring at the intricate tattoos on my arms and neck before her beautiful, green eyes meet mine again. “So, is it just the two of you?” she asks, somewhat shyly.

It seems like it’s her way of asking if a woman lives with me or not. It could be wishful thinking on my part, but I can’t help but notice the sliver of hope in her pretty doe-eyes. Although, I’m sure a polished, beautiful girl like her could do a hell of a lot better than a man like me. I don’t seem like her type at all, and I’ve got too much baggage for most women to handle. I have so much shit on my plate, I can’t consider adding a girl to the mix. I don’t want to drag someone into my mess. Honestly, I don’t even know why I’m contemplating this at all. My mind just can’t help jumping to these sorts of an ideas with a beautiful woman like her in front of me.

“It’s just the two of us,” I confirm with a grin. I can’t offer her much, but I could at least be her friend. We’re not in the same league. Hell, I doubt we’re even playing the same game.