Can't Let Go (24 page)

Later, when we return home and walk through the backdoor, I’m thankful Rob was able to distract me for a few hours. But as soon as we left the diner, my stomach tightened with the thought of Dex and Sam together. I almost asked Rob to trade bedrooms with me for the night for the assurance of silence.

The whole house is dark except for a light flickering in the living room.
Sadie and Brady and their late night movies.
I stop Rob in the kitchen because I want to be alone when I thank him. In the past week, I’ve noticed Rob puts up a show in front of others, and I want us both to be genuine in this moment. I have no idea what he did in the past, but in my opinion, he’s selfless and put my needs before his own tonight.

“Thank you, Rob.” I inch up so that my lips can reach his cheek.

“You’re welcome,” he murmurs, and then I wrap my arms around his neck. Pressing myself against him, he in turn places his hands on my hips and we hug one another.

“You should let people see this side of you,” I whisper softly, and his body jiggles from a small laugh.

“Don’t tell anyone,” he says. “Can’t let my image be tainted.” I laugh.

There in the kitchen, with only the glow of a light from the living room streaming in, I figured out why Jessa ever dated Rob in the first place. Behind that asshole shield is a caring guy who sees things around him others don’t. I assume he might have known from our first meeting that Dex holds a place inside my heart.

Lights flick on, and I squint to see the person responsible for it. When I push away from Rob, my eyes find Dex standing in the doorway, his jaw clenched, his chest rising and falling with both hands gripping the sides of the frame. “What the fuck is going on here?”

“Nothing,” I say and touch Rob’s forearm, staring up at him with appreciation. Not able to look at Dex, I begin to leave the confines of the kitchen when Dex grabs my wrist.

“Chrissy?” He cocks his head to the side in a
give me a break, you were about to fuck him
act.

“You think you have a say in who I go out with?” I defiantly ask him, yanking my arm out of his grip.

“It definitely won’t be him,” he sneers, and Rob steps up.

“Why the hell not? I’m a hell of a better guy than you,” Rob spats back, and I rush to step in between them.

“You have to be shittin’ me,” Dex continues, and I kind of want to agree with Rob on this one.

“Do you even realize what an asshole you are? How can you be so fucking blind?” Rob yells, and I press my hands down to get them to quiet down. The last thing we need is the whole house to wake up.

“Why don’t you enlighten me, Rob.” Dex eggs him on, crossing his arms on his chest.

“Rob, just let this go,” I insist, but he takes his hand and gently nudges me to the side. “I can’t handle this right now.” I escape down the hall, stopping at the stairs to overhear.

Rob continues talking. “You two walk around referring to each other as
friends
. Let me tell you something, friends don’t look at each other every time the other walks in like no one else is in the room. Friends don’t dance close at a bar and make-out in front of a group of people like they want to fuck each other’s brains out,” Rob says, revealing he saw us last night.

“We were drunk,” Dex throws back, and my misery comes to the surface that all I was to him was a drunken fuck. Well, almost a drunken fuck.

“That makes it worse. You want to know why I’ve befriended Chrissy?”

“Go for it,” Dex grits out through clenched teeth.

“She needs someone, and you’re so fucking twisted up, you can’t decide whether to be with her or not. Then you bring Sam back here? What the hell were you thinking? That you could just fuck her with Chrissy next door? You say Chrissy’s just your friend while everyone else around you knows better. If you can’t admit your feelings for her, at least actually
be a friend
and be considerate of her feelings.”

“You’re actually giving me advice on how to be a friend?” Dex hammers back.

Rob laughs. “Yeah, I guess I am,” he arrogantly says, and the next thing I hear is a hard smash from what I assume is a fist to the wall.

“You’re the worst friend,” Dex says, and I can’t help but feel I’m overhearing grade-schoolers arguing on a playground.

“Sorry to tell you, buddy, you took the cake on that title tonight.” The back door opens and slams shut. Not knowing if it was Dex or Rob, I walk up the stairs, scrambling into the safe confines of my room.

Lying in bed, I wait for the footsteps to come, telling me that Dex has gone back to bed with Sam or that Rob went into his room. But they never come, and the silence eventually relaxes me slightly. Hope that maybe I am more to Dex than he admits. Putting my headphones in, I allow the music to soothe me to sleep so I won’t be woken up by noises of lust from Dex and Sam.

THE CLOCK ON my dashboard glares that it’s after three in the morning by the time I pull back into the driveway. Grabbing my envelope from the passenger seat, I stuff it under my shirt and tuck it in my waistband just in case anyone’s up. The guilt from Rob’s words sent me to my dad’s. Nothing like a few bets and wins to lift my mood and distract from my overworking mind that’s plagued me for the past week. Some days, I wonder why I even bother with school when I could easily earn my living gambling.

The stairs creak and shift as my heavy footsteps rise to the top. Stopping at Chrissy’s door, I place my palm against it, wanting nothing more than to retreat in and climb under her blankets. But with doubt too high, I lower it back down and make the way to my room. Sam’s light snores echo in the room, bringing the anxiety of my situation to the surface. I use the flashlight on my phone to light my way to the safe in the closet and stuff the envelope in there as fast as I can. Like a damn stalker, I stand over Sam and for a second I debate in my head to either climb in next to her or sleep down the hall. Rob’s words ring in my ears, reminding me what a shit move it was bringing her back here in the first place. Then thinking of Chrissy asleep right next door makes me feel like even lower of a person.

Shaking my head, I turn around and leave the room. Once in the hallway, my breathing returns back to normal slightly after having made a decision one way or the other. Finding the comfort of our old-ass couch in the family room, I click on the television and wait until the infomercials bore me enough to sleep.

“DEX,” I’M SHAKEN awake by Sam.

“Yeah,” I half coherently answer.

“I need you to take me to Jessa and Grant’s.” I pry one eye open and find an already made up Sam in front of me. Seriously, her make-up is already on and her hair done up. What the fuck time is it?

“What time is it?” I ask, and she laughs.

“Eleven,” she says. It’s Sunday, so I guess everyone is sleeping in. “Jessa’s coming home today.”

“Okay—give me a sec.” I sit up and place my elbows on my knees, my head in my hands. Blinking a few times, I give an internal pep talk to get up. I stand up and dig in my pockets for my keys.

“You could have slept with me last night, I don’t bite,” she jokes, and I give her a little laugh to show her I heard it, but I know I made the right decision.

“I just couldn’t sleep,” I lie.

Her eyes focus on mine, and then she turns away. “Well, let’s go.” She walks into the kitchen, and I notice her bag is already placed by the back door. Being the gentleman, I pick it up and we leave the house.

We’re about three minutes from Jessa and Grant’s when Sam reaches over and turns down the music. “Who is she?” she asks.

A groan escapes my lips. Why does everyone think Chrissy and I are their business? “A friend.” I keep up my usual reference to Chrissy.

“Are you sure there isn’t something more?” she presses, and I bring the heel of my palm to my eye, wishing this conversation could end.

“I’m not sure,” I honestly answer because Sam and I have always been truthful. Our agreement was that if we were serious about someone else, this ended between us. I probably should have put an end to it when Chrissy returned and definitely yesterday when I picked Sam up. I pull along the curb and place the truck in park. The lift of my chest to finally admit to someone my feelings for Chrissy is liberating.

“That’s what I thought.” She unclicks her seatbelt and faces me. “You could have told me. I’d have understood.” She nicely lets me off the hook.

“I’m not quite sure it matters now. I’m sorry, Sam.”

“Oh, Dex. Don’t apologize for falling in love with someone.” She places her hand on the door handle ready to flee the truck.

“No one said anything about love,” I remind her, and she smirks over to me and then steps down from truck. Before shutting the door, she leans in, bending over the seat.

“Nothing has to be said. Anyone can see it when the two of you are in the same space.” She shuts the door, and I sit there wondering what the fuck is wrong with people. First Rob, and now Sam. Chrissy and I have a deep friendship and maybe her return has caused some feelings to resurface. But I’m not sure we could ever cross the invisible line due to the fear it would ruin everything we have.

My mind drowns in doubt as I drive back to the house until my phone rings in the center console.

“Yeah,” I answer.

“Hey, Edge. You available to come on over?” my dad asks, “I have some news.” “Come to the house, though.” He hangs up without an answer, and I place it back down, wishing I had showered before I left this morning.

Twenty minutes later, I’m circling around the driveway of my dad’s house. The place I spent two weekends out of a month. The place I spent the most time with Chrissy. Walking in, silence fills the living room. “Dad?” I scream.

“Out here, Edge,” he calls out from the patio, and I follow the path of discolored carpeting.

My dad sits outside with the newspaper in his hands, sports section of course. I wonder if he even toys with the thought of checking the front page for more important news. “Heard you won big last night.” He dips the corner of the newspaper down and arches his eyebrows, questioning why I didn’t share my tip with him.

“Sorry,” I mumble, “it was last minute.” The chair scraps along the concrete as I pull it out to join him.

“Next time, share with your dad,” he kids.

“Will do. So, what’s up?”

“I found Zeke. It’s bad.” He places the newspaper down on the table and grabs his coffee mug. “Man, you look like shit.”

Throwing my hands up in the air as though saying what-the-fuck, I shake my head in disbelief. Is it everyone against Dex day? “Thanks. Anyway, back to the topic. What do we do now?”

“Nothing,” he deadpans, and I wait for more, but he offers nothing.

“And?”

“Nothing. He can’t be saved, and Chrissy sure as hell doesn’t need him in her life.”

“Wait—”

“Edge, I know it sucks, but it’s the way it needs to be. She’s better off without him. Look what he’s done to her. She leaves town and then comes back, and the asshole puts up her body to pay a debt he can’t make good on.”

“Fucker,” I counter, sulking down in the chair. I can’t imagine being so alone in the world. I have my friends, my mom, my dad, Ted. All people that would rally around me if something happened. Who does Chrissy have? I wish I could hunt her dad down and beat the shit out of him for everything he’s put her through. But hell if he’d even care. If he gave two shits about her, he wouldn’t have been an asshole to her all her life.