Page 95 of Single-Minded
I ached to go to her, hold her, comfort her, but I was the motherfucker who’d caused it. I no longer had the right to do anything for her other than finish up the project she was paying me for.
I grabbed my shirt from the coffee table and dragged it over my head. Without looking at her again, because I couldn’t stand to see her upset, I said, “I’m sorry, Presley. I really am,” and I let myself out of her house.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Presley
After West walked out of my house, I stood there gazing out my windows, clinging to my blanket, staggered by the turn my life had taken in the past half hour.
Twelve hours ago, I’d felt…bubbly and lighthearted and happy as West and I spent the day together working on the shop. We got along so well, worked together seamlessly, flirted, laughed, talked. He told me all about the trip he was planning to the beach with his daughters. I told him about the coffee suppliers I’d chosen for my first quarter in business.
Days at the shop with West, when there was no one else around, were like going on a long, very good date, except we worked instead of played.
It was also like nearly twelve hours of foreplay, so by the time we’d gotten to my house, we’d both been impatient and on fire for each other.
Though I’d hesitated to commit to calling my feelings for him the L word on Wednesday with the girls at the salon, by Thursday there was no way to deny it. I loved him. Today I’d relished what it felt like to spend the day with the man I loved.
Lightning zigzagged in the sky in the distance, dragging me from my thoughts for long enough to drop my blanket and pull on boxers and a soft sleep tank, even if it was doubtful I’d sleep anytime soon. My brain was spinning, trying to make sense of West Aldridge.
I picked up my phone on the off chance he’d get home to his empty house and realize what a stupid move he’d made, then headed down to the shore to watch the storm roll in.
I went out to the end of the dock, taking in the moon, still bright and shining but on the verge of being cloaked by a bank of thick clouds. I sat on the wood surface, legs bent, my hands behind me for support as I watched the dramatic sky.
What the hell was West thinking to throw away something like what we’d shared?
I understood that when kids were involved, there was a lot to consider. I appreciated that he put his kids high on the priority list. That was such a foundational part of the person he was. I’d hate for him to be any other way.
But.
How could he think it was okay to deny himself something as good as what we had? Why couldn’t both he and his kids be happy? How could he think it wasn’t worth it to try? Because I could swear he had more than just lustful feelings for me.
His daughters were precious and full of life and seemed well-adjusted, considering how turbulent the mom scene had been for them. West had told me how much his ex-girlfriend moving out had upset them, especially Nova. How he’d wake up with anywhere between one and three of them in his bed each morning for the first few weeks after she’d left.
The picture he’d painted had absolutely ripped at my heart. I never wanted those three to feel like that again. That he’d just assumed I’d eventually leave and hurt them? Without giving us a chance?
I couldn’t comprehend not wanting to at least try at something that had started out so good.
I knew there would be steps to take if we were to attempt a real, nonsecret relationship. So many steps, like making the jump from secret to public, easing his kids into the idea of us without them jumping to conclusions, and continuing to get to know each other. I didn’t expect or even want a marriage proposal or an invitation to move in together. That’s not where we were.
He’d shut us down before we had the chance to get there, and I wanted to shake some sense into his big, stupid self.
The tip of the cloud bank covered the moon as lightning flashed like a laser-light show. I lay on my back to enjoy the display, feeling the charge in the air as the wind picked up.
I stayed there for another twenty minutes, watching the weather change around me, feeling Mother Nature’s drama in my heart, because my own life felt like a storm had come along and ripped the hell out of everything that made sense.
When the first raindrops hit me, I headed inside. The house felt like a mausoleum. A giant, empty, lonely mausoleum instead of a home. I strode to the utility room and opened the door, unleashing my tiny beasts. Call me a bad cat mom to let them out of bed at nearly midnight, but I needed company and comfort.
What I needed even more was girlfriend time and a bottle of wine.
I’d never experienced a breakup before, and I wasn’t sure this could officially qualify as one since we’d only had a secret fling that started out with the intention of being short-term. My emotions were real though, so for me, this was a breakup. A heartbreak. And I longed for the support and commiseration of a girlfriend.
The clock on my new kitchen stove said ten till midnight.
I tried not to think about how much time West and I would still have left in this night together had I not mentioned moving to my bed or staying all night. The loss hurt too much.
I couldn’t call Chloe and disrupt her whole house at this hour. No way would I bother seven-months-pregnant Rowan. But Magnolia had mentioned she was an insomniac.
With Chai, the lightest-colored kitten, in my arm, I pulled up Magnolia on my message app while Latte and Mocha scampered at my feet.
