Page 55 of Coty

Halfway across the parking lot, I huff out a breath through my nose. Naturally, he parked near my car. His truck is in the next row, directly behind my car.

“You could ride with me. We can pick your car up tomorrow.”

“No.” I unlock the door and get in. “Uh.”

“What?” Coty quickly scans the parking lot for signs of trouble.

“Nothing.” I put the key in the ignition and slide my seat forward a little. Short people problems. Gotta reach those pedals after all.

My heart pounds and my mind races on the way home. Every time the thought of the night we spent together comes to mind, I slam a lid on quickly. I can’t force those thoughts away this time. He’s staying with me tonight, and neither of us is drunk.

Coty pulls into the parking lot and parks next to me. Even if I wanted to run, there’s no chance of slipping out on him while he’s sleeping. He’ll make sure of it. Besides, I have nowhere to go. Running and avoiding him ends tonight.

His grandmother’s words have played on repeat in my mind today. It was all true. Every last bit of it. How she knew some of those things is a mystery. It’s not important. I won’t try to figure it out. This town loves to gossip. I’m sure everything my father said about me at Sunday dinner was all over town.

It would be nice to have a few days to think about everything Nana said and prepare what I should say to Coty. I’m not getting that luxury tonight. Truth be told, I’ve had it for far too long.

Ever the gentleman, Coty opens my door and offers me his hand. Once I’m out of the car, he doesn’t release it. He hits the lock button and closes the door. A part of me wants to jerk my hand away. The part of me that’s listening to Nan lets the warmth flow up my arm. Oh, there’s literally warmth. It’s not a cliché.

I set my purse on the table by the door and drop my keys into the wooden bowl. Coty takes our coats and puts them in the closet by the door.

“You want that beer now?” I go straight to the fridge because I sure need one.

“If you can drink one without getting drunk, sure.” He moves in way too close behind me.

I reach in, grab two beers from the twelve, and pause.

“You okay?”

“Yeah.” I turn and offer him one. “I usually keep a twelve-pack. Just forgot I bought a new one.”

Coty twists the top off his and tosses it in the trash. He stares into the bin.

“Are you okay?” I tease.

He closes the lid and runs a hand over his mouth and chin. “I’m just going to ask, but don’t get mad.”

That’s a sign you’re usually going to get mad. Why in the world would my trash make me mad?

“Sure.” I take a sip of beer and remain calm, as asked.

“You got a drinking problem?”

Way to get right to the point. I spew beer out and quickly reach for the dish towel hanging on the stove handle. “No. Why would you ask me that?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Let’s see. There’s a bottle of whiskey on the counter. You were beyond drunk Sunday night. You don’t remember buying a new twelve-pack, and there are six empty bottles in the trash.”

Really? All of that’s true, I guess.

“I don’t count my trash, Coty.” I walk past him to the living room.

“You’ve only been home for a day.”

I sit on the couch and toss my hands up. “I guess I forgot to take the trash out before I went to Knoxville.” I honestly don’t remember. I know I didn’t take it out today. “It’s just trash. So, chill out or go home.”

“Okay.” He doesn’t believe me, but lets it go.

“Oh.” I stop him before he can join me on the couch and point to the recliner. “Will you hand me that blanket, please? I usually keep it on the back of the couch.”

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