Show Me How
Page 25
I hated that the first time I thought I could move on after years of hanging on to Ben’s memory, I once again felt like I wasn’t enough. Despite everything he’d told me, Ben had needed Grey. She was his safe place, his comfort. And Deacon needed a different face every night, and a girl willing to be used for a few minutes of pleasure.
But I have Stranger. . .
The thought made me laugh sadly.
Unfortunately, tonight only reaffirmed why Stranger should stay a stranger.
Because there was something safe in keeping him fake. The screens of our phones helped guard my heart because I knew that no matter how much I loved our conversations, I would never be able to get invested enough to the point where he could break it.
I was only five minutes away from home when my phone began ringing. I didn’t have to look at it to know who it was, but I was disappointed that it took him that long to check his phone and realize what he’d done even after the girl had left. Seconds after the ringing stopped, it started up again, and again, and again.
My fingers twitched to grab my phone and answer it, to let him attempt to give me some bullshit explanation, but the tears came faster with each time he called. And that made me angrier at him—that he somehow had enough of a hold on me to make me cry harder at the thought of letting him explain away why he’d forgotten me for another girl.
This was Deacon Carver! I didn’t want to care if there had been another girl at all. I should have expected this. I should have never let myself feel anything for him in the first place.
I’d barely made it two feet inside the door before Grey was rushing toward me from where she’d been looking in the fridge.
Crap.
“What’s wrong?” Grey asked loudly.
“I thought you were going out of town,” I said as I quickly wiped at my wet cheeks.
“What happened?” Jagger’s worried voice sounded throughout the open space from upstairs, and within seconds he was looking over the rail.
“I thought you were going out with Deacon,” Grey said, ignoring both Jagger and me.
Jagger bit out a curse as he ran down the stairs. “Deacon? You were going out with fucking Deacon? What’d he do?”
“Nothing,” I said firmly, then repeated, “I thought you were going out of town.”
Grey’s eyebrows drew together as she studied me. “We started to, but Aly got sick on the way there, so we’re going to leave in a few days. Now what’s wrong?”
I laughed and waved them both off, and tried to walk toward my room in the back. “Again, nothing. I’ll be leaving again soon, can I take your car?”
Grey held on to my hand to keep me from walking away. “What happened? Did he say something to you?”
My body deflated, and I huffed at my own stupidity. “He would’ve had to actually show up in order to say something,” I whispered. “But he was busy.”
“Busy with what?” Grey asked at the same time Jagger growled, “When were you two going to tell me that you were going out with Deacon?”
“Jag, now is not the time to be like this, okay? Don’t—just don’t.” Grey had let go of me to try to calm Jagger down, and I used that to my advantage to walk toward the hall again. “And since when is it a what with Deacon, Grey? It’s always a who.”
“He wouldn’t when he had plans—”
“He would,” I said, cutting Grey off. “I called him a few times, but he never picked up. I walked over to the house, and he was seeing a girl out while buttoning up his pants.” I tried to sound like it didn’t matter, but my voice cracked more than once during my explanation.
Jagger’s face fell, but he didn’t say anything else, and I knew from his silence that he was now truly pissed off.
Grey looked like she couldn’t decide if she was more upset at Deacon or sad for me, but she mouthed, “I’m sorry.”
“Again, not a big deal. I mean, it’s Deacon, right? But is it okay if I use your car tonight? He left mine in the shop.”
“Of course,” she said, and tugged on Jagger’s arm when he continued to stand there staring at a spot on the floor.
I hurried back to my bathroom, and groaned when I saw my face. It was more than obvious I’d been crying, and if my brother knew I was crying over Deacon, then he knew tonight meant a lot more to me than I’d let on. Which explained his silence just before.
After washing my face, I did my hair and makeup and was finishing getting dressed when I heard Jagger start yelling.
“You really think fucking someone is more important than whatever plans you had? Or making sure she had a ride home?”
My head dropped and mortification slid through my body at the thought of my big brother calling Deacon, before I heard another voice.
“Just tell me if she’s here. She’s not answering her phone!”
“Did you answer yours?” Jagger countered.
“Charlie!” Deacon’s booming voice echoed through the warehouse.
I wanted to hide, but instead of actually attempting to, I froze in place as Deacon and Jagger yelled at each other all the way down the halls. My body jerked when Deacon began pounding on my bedroom door and calling my name. After taking a deep breath in and giving myself a second to school my expression, I walked over to open it.
“Charlie, I’m sorry,” he began, but Jagger cut in.
“You don’t have to talk to him.”
I shrugged and smiled. “Why wouldn’t I? And you don’t have to apologize.”
“The hell he doesn’t,” Jagger growled.
“Yes, I do. I’m sorry, I—I—I lost track of time and crashed, and when I woke up it was two hours after I was supposed to get you.”
“You fell asleep?” I asked, but kept the smile plastered on my face.
“Bull—”
“Jagger,” I bit out, but didn’t stop looking at Deacon.
“I’m sorry,” Deacon said in response. “I’ll make it up to you, I swear to God. Let me—”
“That really isn’t necessary, and actually, I need you to leave. I have a date tonight, and I’m running a little late now that you’re here.”
His eyebrows shot up, as did Jagger’s, and for the first time since I opened the door, Deacon’s eyes slowly trailed over my body. “Oh . . . you have a date?”
But I have Stranger. . .
The thought made me laugh sadly.
Unfortunately, tonight only reaffirmed why Stranger should stay a stranger.
Because there was something safe in keeping him fake. The screens of our phones helped guard my heart because I knew that no matter how much I loved our conversations, I would never be able to get invested enough to the point where he could break it.
I was only five minutes away from home when my phone began ringing. I didn’t have to look at it to know who it was, but I was disappointed that it took him that long to check his phone and realize what he’d done even after the girl had left. Seconds after the ringing stopped, it started up again, and again, and again.
My fingers twitched to grab my phone and answer it, to let him attempt to give me some bullshit explanation, but the tears came faster with each time he called. And that made me angrier at him—that he somehow had enough of a hold on me to make me cry harder at the thought of letting him explain away why he’d forgotten me for another girl.
This was Deacon Carver! I didn’t want to care if there had been another girl at all. I should have expected this. I should have never let myself feel anything for him in the first place.
I’d barely made it two feet inside the door before Grey was rushing toward me from where she’d been looking in the fridge.
Crap.
“What’s wrong?” Grey asked loudly.
“I thought you were going out of town,” I said as I quickly wiped at my wet cheeks.
“What happened?” Jagger’s worried voice sounded throughout the open space from upstairs, and within seconds he was looking over the rail.
“I thought you were going out with Deacon,” Grey said, ignoring both Jagger and me.
Jagger bit out a curse as he ran down the stairs. “Deacon? You were going out with fucking Deacon? What’d he do?”
“Nothing,” I said firmly, then repeated, “I thought you were going out of town.”
Grey’s eyebrows drew together as she studied me. “We started to, but Aly got sick on the way there, so we’re going to leave in a few days. Now what’s wrong?”
I laughed and waved them both off, and tried to walk toward my room in the back. “Again, nothing. I’ll be leaving again soon, can I take your car?”
Grey held on to my hand to keep me from walking away. “What happened? Did he say something to you?”
My body deflated, and I huffed at my own stupidity. “He would’ve had to actually show up in order to say something,” I whispered. “But he was busy.”
“Busy with what?” Grey asked at the same time Jagger growled, “When were you two going to tell me that you were going out with Deacon?”
“Jag, now is not the time to be like this, okay? Don’t—just don’t.” Grey had let go of me to try to calm Jagger down, and I used that to my advantage to walk toward the hall again. “And since when is it a what with Deacon, Grey? It’s always a who.”
“He wouldn’t when he had plans—”
“He would,” I said, cutting Grey off. “I called him a few times, but he never picked up. I walked over to the house, and he was seeing a girl out while buttoning up his pants.” I tried to sound like it didn’t matter, but my voice cracked more than once during my explanation.
Jagger’s face fell, but he didn’t say anything else, and I knew from his silence that he was now truly pissed off.
Grey looked like she couldn’t decide if she was more upset at Deacon or sad for me, but she mouthed, “I’m sorry.”
“Again, not a big deal. I mean, it’s Deacon, right? But is it okay if I use your car tonight? He left mine in the shop.”
“Of course,” she said, and tugged on Jagger’s arm when he continued to stand there staring at a spot on the floor.
I hurried back to my bathroom, and groaned when I saw my face. It was more than obvious I’d been crying, and if my brother knew I was crying over Deacon, then he knew tonight meant a lot more to me than I’d let on. Which explained his silence just before.
After washing my face, I did my hair and makeup and was finishing getting dressed when I heard Jagger start yelling.
“You really think fucking someone is more important than whatever plans you had? Or making sure she had a ride home?”
My head dropped and mortification slid through my body at the thought of my big brother calling Deacon, before I heard another voice.
“Just tell me if she’s here. She’s not answering her phone!”
“Did you answer yours?” Jagger countered.
“Charlie!” Deacon’s booming voice echoed through the warehouse.
I wanted to hide, but instead of actually attempting to, I froze in place as Deacon and Jagger yelled at each other all the way down the halls. My body jerked when Deacon began pounding on my bedroom door and calling my name. After taking a deep breath in and giving myself a second to school my expression, I walked over to open it.
“Charlie, I’m sorry,” he began, but Jagger cut in.
“You don’t have to talk to him.”
I shrugged and smiled. “Why wouldn’t I? And you don’t have to apologize.”
“The hell he doesn’t,” Jagger growled.
“Yes, I do. I’m sorry, I—I—I lost track of time and crashed, and when I woke up it was two hours after I was supposed to get you.”
“You fell asleep?” I asked, but kept the smile plastered on my face.
“Bull—”
“Jagger,” I bit out, but didn’t stop looking at Deacon.
“I’m sorry,” Deacon said in response. “I’ll make it up to you, I swear to God. Let me—”
“That really isn’t necessary, and actually, I need you to leave. I have a date tonight, and I’m running a little late now that you’re here.”
His eyebrows shot up, as did Jagger’s, and for the first time since I opened the door, Deacon’s eyes slowly trailed over my body. “Oh . . . you have a date?”
