Page 58 of Breakout
He goes to say something but is cut off by the server.
“Sorry about the wait, here’s your food. Do you need anything else?” she asks.
“Nope. We are good,” I tell her, turning back to Beckett.
“What were you going to say?” I ask as soon as she walks away.
He shakes his head. “Don’t worry about it. It was nothing.”
That’s just the thing, though. Now all I’m going to do is worry. What is it he wanted to tell me, and why won’t he now?
The words blur in the book in front of me as my mind wanders away from my studies and to where it always is nowadays.
Peyton.
She’s the first thing I think about in the morning and the last thing I think about before I fall asleep each night. She consumes me to the point of insanity.
I can’t tell her that, though.
I absolutely adore my wife, but sometimes she pisses me the fuck off.
Like this morning for example.
I must be naïve because I thought we were doing better. That things were slowly but surely progressing between us. She has been more affectionate. I can see in her eyes that she is starting to develop feelings for me. I thought we were on the right track.
Wrong.
She has to go and remind me where shit stands between us, effectively putting me back in the friend zone with benefits. I know I can make her happy, that we are meant to be together, and that the long game will pay off, but sometimes I would just like things to go my way for once.
I just need to keep going. Keep my head down and grind. It’s difficult, but it will pay off.
She’s worth it.
For every step forward, it’s two steps back, and that’s okay. I can handle that. I can handle everything as long as I have her in my life.
Books drop onto the table, startling me. I rip an earbud out and look over at Brett.
“What are you doing here?” I ask.
My friend looks a little worse for wear, but that’s pretty typical right now, when he’s on crutches.
“Studying. You know, that thing you usually do in a library. That okay with you?” he says, raising a brow as he takes a seat across from me.
“Yeah, sorry.” Sighing, I rub my face.
“Okay, I’m over this shit. What the hell is going on with you?” he spits out.
I frown at him. He is usually the happy one of the group. The one always making jokes. He doesn’t snap like this.
“Nothing, man, I’m good,” I tell him as I shut off the playlist I had been listening to.
“Bullshit. I’ve known you since freshman year. Is your dad pressuring you into something? Where the hell are you spending all your time because it sure as shit isn’t at home in your room?”
A bone-deep tiredness settles over me.
“My dad is being…my dad, and I’m dealing with it. As for where I’m spending my time, it’s complicated.”
“Then explain it to me like I’m five.”
