Page 21 of Backed By You
The bold reality of the situation hits me full force. He’s been in my bathroom. Used my shower. Touched my things. Slept in my space without permission. The boundaries I’ve so carefully constructed feel tampered with. Shattered.
Never mind that he’s a familiar face with a hot—and albeit tempting—well-built physique.
I’m mad now. Mad and hurt and…
Beau’s expression shifts from defensive to concerned as he grips the edge of his towel and stands. His towering stature and defined chest a mere foot away. “Callie,” he says, softer this time. “You’re shaking.”
I am. My whole body trembles with a mixture of emotions I can’t begin to process.Just when I thought I could let my guard down. I press my lips together to keep them from quivering and take a step back. Hulk moves with me. “Get dressed,” I manage to say. “And get out.”
Something flickers across Beau’s face. Regret, maybe? He gives a single, silent nod before turning toward the bedroom and into the bathroom. His back muscles flex with each step, and I hate that I notice them. The door closes behind him with a softclick.
I stand rooted in place, Hulk pressed against my leg for support. A minute later, the door opens. Beau emerges fully dressed in grey sweatpants and an army green T-shirt. He moves with quiet efficiency, gathering his phone from the coffee table, his keys, and a small duffel I hadn’t noticed beside the door.
Not once does he look at me.
The morning light catches on his profile, highlighting the tension in his jaw, the rigid set of his shoulders. He pauses at the front door, his hand wrapped around the doorknob. For a heartbeat, I think he might say something to break this painful silence. Apologize, even. But he doesn’t. The door opens, and without a backward glance, he steps through and pulls it shut behind him.
I’m alone.
Eight.
Callie
Todayis…notthebestday. I didn’t sleep for the second night in a row. I’m running on sheer frustration and short naps throughout the day if I can manage to fall asleep. It’s been twenty-four hours since I caught Beau sleeping on my couch. We’ve both been fairly busy with our own stuff.
Him outside, avoiding eye contact.
Me inside, trying to work on my next big project.
I peek out the front window. Beau is outside, a hammer in hand. A complete lower framework is pieced together between his taped-off stakes. God knows how long he’s been awake for to have made so much progress since yesterday.
He’s shirtless, drenched in sweat, and chugging a bottle of water that has the thick cords of his neck flexing and straining. He removes the rim from his lips and splashes his face with theremaining bit of water. My thighs clamp together when he rubs one meaty paw over his face and into his hair.
Hulk nudges my hand, indicating he needs to go out. I’m brought back to reality and attempt not to readtoofar into the ease in my shoulders compared to a moment ago.
It has nothing to do with the grumpy army veteran working andlivingoutside my front door. Nope, none.
Although, I don’t know where he’s been sleeping since I kicked him off my couch. Where he slept last night…I haven’t got a clue.
After I let Hulk out back to do his business, I serve him breakfast and make myself some oatmeal. I work on a few scenes for a current screenplay between getting ready for the day and cleaning. I opt for a light lunch and give Hulk one of his chewy sticks to keep him occupied.
It’s after two o’clock when I start to get flustered by the direction my manuscript has taken. “He can’t kill her this early,” I mutter to myself, gnawing my pen cap in thought. An awful habit I picked up during a writing course in college.
My head falls back on a heavy sigh, and Hulk perks up from his dog bed by the sofa.
I smile when his tail flops three times. “Walkies?” My buddy is up on his feet, stretching a second later. I stand, too, hoping the activity will tire me out enough to sleep for longer than a few hours tonight. “Glad we’re in agreement.”
I change my clothes into my usual hiking attire and clip Hulk into his harness before packing a few water bottles, treats, and granola bars into my backpack.
We’re out the door in five minutes, passing Beau on our way to the hiking trail down the road. I idly note his pause to watch me. Given I’m wearing the same shoes he had an issue with before, I’d venture to say he’s biting his tongue from spouting another lecture on proper footwear.
I snort to myself. Wasn’t I just thinking he was cute in a grumpy, overbearing sort of way not too long ago? Clearly, I’m delusional.
Hulk and I reach the trailhead we’ve hiked over a dozen times. The trail moves up the mountain, winding through the trees for a quarter mile before it forks into three different directions. We’ve done the two lower-level trails, which according to the sign, are easy to moderate in difficulty, while the third is listed as challenging and strenuous.
“What’ll it be, bud?” I ask Hulk. “I wouldn’t mind a challenge today. How ‘bout you?” Having to stay focused on the hike would help me get out of my head. “Come on. This way,” I say, patting my thigh for Hulk to follow as I branch off straight ahead.
The challenging trail lives up to its name right away. The path narrows and steepens, forcing me to watch each step carefully. Exposed roots crisscross the dirt like nature’s tripwires. Hulk navigates the terrain with enviable ease, his paws finding purchase where my running shoes occasionally slip on the loose earth.
