I live in Mississippi. And almost every time I’m home Presley talks me into coming to Miami on my two weeks off. The only reason I don’t give her shit about it more than I do is because we do work on band stuff a lot, like we did back before Abby died, and that’s a part of my life that I miss even if we never have another shot at making it. For me it’s about the brotherhood, the passion for what we do, and just living life with no regrets.
I accepted a long time ago that I’d likely be out on that rig for the rest of my life like my dad has been, which brings me to thoughts of my dad and why I still keep my distance from my mom. He used to work on a rig in the gulf like me. Moved up. Was making good money still. Comfortably supporting a family, at least. Then all the shit happened with my mom in high school and he prefers to stay gone. He’s been working overseas since. Twenty-eight days on and twenty-eight days off. I only see him about two weeks every other month, and that’s if he doesn’t take on a relief shift when someone asks off, which he does more than he doesn’t.
I work six months out of the year in the Gulf of Mexico, limited to Wi-Fi as long as it’s working or the phone on the rig. I don’t need the constant headache of what a girl is doing back home while I’m out in the middle of the ocean. A weekend fling is more than enough for me. It’s best to walk away and live with the good memories of that one time that I met a girl almost identical to me, age gap be damned. I inhale, already lifting my foot to step down. “It’s a risk I’m not willing to take,” I tell Maddox, and then start walking down the stairs. This is the only me I’ll ever be. No girl is going to destroy me.
Thirty-Four
Paxtyn
The ride has been quiet, Landon staying to himself as he drives and stares straight ahead. I’ve played on my phone since we left the house after I said goodbye to Gabby and we exchanged numbers. She came running out the door in an oversized tee shirt and sleep shorts and hugged me. Then I got scolded for trying to ‘sneak off’. The only person I’m sneaking off from is my sister. She doesn’t deserve a goodbye since she keeps casually forgetting about our plans together. It took a second to come out of my temporary state of shock over having a girl clinging to me and register that it wasn’t a dream. Then it melted through me like heat. The only friend that’s ever hugged me is Navy, but we’ve been friends forever. That bitch is stuck with me for life. I didn’t think Gabby would care I was leaving. It felt good.
I shuffle through my phone playlist of downloads to listen offline, looking for something to play. Instead of taking the time to connect my Bluetooth to the truck system for one ride, I just plugged in my USB cord. I don’t know what’s wrong with him. He usually at least says something, even if it’s a smartass comment. I’ve thought over and over that maybe he’s aggravated he’s driving me, but I tried to tell him to stay behind. I meant it. I know how to take care of myself.
Eastsideby Benny Blanco, Halsey, and Khalid starts to play through the speakers. “He used to meet me on the eastside, in a city where the sun don’t set,” I sing to myself, knowing every word of this song, my head swaying from side to side to the beat of the music as I scroll through Instagram, checking out my friends’ photos from the weekend. Lots of parties that I missed.
That feeling like someone is staring at me hits and I look to my left at Landon, who is glancing between me and the road, reminding me that I’m singing like I do in my car when it’s just me. “Shit, am I being too loud?”
His serious demeanor finally breaks into a half smile as he turns into the airport, following the signs to the parking garage and passenger drop off. “No. Interesting, but not loud.”
He passes the drop off point in front of the automatic doors that lead into the airport, causing my head to follow as it blurs by my window. “Hey, you can just drop me off there. It’s much easier. Then you can just circle around to leave.” He ignores me, still driving down the road. “Landon.”
He doesn’t look at me, already entering the parking garage and making the circle up, following the path until an empty space comes into view. He quickly pulls in and shifts to park, killing the headlights. Everything is dark in the truck but the controls and displays. There is a subtle scent of cologne permanently embedded in the cab like it’s sprayed often, and if I had to guess, I’d say Maddox keeps a bottle in the center console. “It’s timed parking there,” he says.
“That’s because it’s meant to be a drop off, which is kind of the point—to drop me off so I can check in. Come on. Take me back around so I don’t have to walk in the dark and you can go back to the house and go to sleep. It’s late. This is why I was just going to take an Uber.”
He reaches in the cup holder and grabs his phone, not acknowledging anything I say as he unlocks it and navigates around the screen, which is pissing me off. I hate to be ignored. No one does it at school. I’m one of the few with that privilege.
I grab my purse and pull my USB cord out of the port, annoyed. “Guess I’ll walk in the dark then,” I mumble, placing my hand on the handle to open it. It’s locked still from the automatic locks when he started driving. I hit the unlock button, but they lock right back.
I look at him. He’s holding out his phone for me. “Chill the fuck out. I’ll take you when I’m done with you,” he says, his tone sounding agitated. “Put your number in my phone.”
The screen is already in the contacts app, a new entry pulled up and waiting. My eyes rise to his. “That’s not necessary, country. I don’t really want to give my number out to people that don’t intend to use it. No hard feelings just because you know my sister. This was just sex. I’m fine with it. If I was going to whine about keeping it casual come time to leave, I wouldn’t have slid down your dick to begin with.”
He temporarily closes his eyes and blows out air. “Are you done bitching yet? I wouldn’t have told you to put it in if I didn’t want it. I may decide I want a weekend fuck with tight pussy and summon you.”
I bite back a smile, my stomach tightening with nerves. “I may not want you to have it.”
“I swear to God I’m about to shove a cock in your mouth if you don’t shut up and stop acting like a high school girl.”
I roll my eyes and snatch the phone out of his hand, already keying my details. “I am a high school girl, dumbass.”
He changes the music setting since I took my phone out and rock starts to play as I finish adding my number. A text banner comes through at the top, drawing my eyes as I was about to hit save.
Trinity:Are you home yet?
Who is Trinity? Shit, did I even ask if he was single before we hooked up? I rack my brain but can’t remember. Real smart, Paxtyn. I glance up at him, my thumb hovering over the save option. “Uh, before I save this, is Trinity your girlfriend?”
He starts laughing, but I have no idea why that’s funny. I’m freaking out! I’m fine with being a weekend fling kind of fuck, or a friend with benefits even, but I do not want to bethatgirl. God, if I gave my virginity to someone in a relationship I’m going to feel like an idiot. I half-expected for him to defensively take his phone like any other cheater would do, but he doesn’t. “Fuck no. Trinity is a married whore that I met at a bar drunk who thinks I’m an idiot she can lie to when her husband is gone. If she texted me, she’s looking for dick.”
“Uh . . .” Slut. I don’t know why that irks me. We are not a thing. Wait, what am I thinking? I slept with him hours after we met. That would sort of be hypocritical of me. I suppose for a weekend I was a slutty slut too. Would he lie? I don’t mind meeting up for casual sex here and there if he wants. I’m definitely not going to be doing it with guys back home. I consider how good sex actually felt. Okay, Imaynot have sex with any guys back home, but I do like honesty.
His laughter has died out but he’s still smiling. What the fuck? How does he go from silent to this over this topic of conversation? “Go read the messages. I don’t give a shit. I delete nothing.”
I hit save and shove his phone back. “I’m not reading your messages.”
He grabs it and looks down, tapping a few places, before handing it back. “Do I sound like the type of guy that would be in a relationship?”
I grab the phone back and scroll up. The time stamp on the last message is the day I arrived. My brows rise as I read his responses, looking at him seconds later. “I’d slap the shit out of you if you said those things to me.”