Take Your Time (Fate and Circumstance #2) (15 page)

Sarah

I’d ignored the fear that fought to consume me, pushed it deep down during the short drive to his cousin’s house. Instead of succumbing to the anxiety, I focused on Bentley’s taillights and let my mind wander. I thought about the way his fingers laced through mine, the warmth of his palm, the impressive size difference between our hands. My skin burned hot when I thought about what those hands had done to me, and the heights they’d taken me to. It was enough to keep my mind occupied until I pulled down the long driveway behind Bentley’s truck.

The house was nice with a small, open porch in the front, complete with a hanging swing. Observing everything as he led me inside kept the panic from setting in. I hadn’t been to another person’s house in so long, but I didn’t let that thought pull me under. I chose to admire the beautiful home instead.

I felt rather proud of myself for not freaking out and running away. It was one step closer, exactly what Bentley had promised. But then, he handed me a large T-shirt and a pair of boxer-briefs. He told me he had to take a shower, and that I was more than welcome to take one, as well. He even offered me his bathroom, saying he’d use his cousin’s to give me privacy.

That’s when I could no longer hold back the panic and anxiety.

My vision became laser focused on the exit of the room. I wanted to go, but wanted to stay so much more. I wanted to be alone, yet wanted to be right here with him. If I hadn’t made the choices I had in the past months, I wouldn’t be here right now, and as much as I was trying to climb out of the black hole I had crawled in, I was safe there. Nothing could penetrate my walls, and in my mind, nothing could hurt me.

I didn’t want to take a shower at his house, but the thought of sitting alone in his room for however long it took to wash himself was even worse. I told myself I’d make it fast—get in and get out. Not think about where I was or what I was doing, just close my eyes and pretend I was at home, alone.

That worked until I stood completely naked in his bathroom, surrounded by his things. I used his shampoo, his masculine scented soap, and then dried off with a towel I found on the back of the door—probably a towel he’d used to dry his naked body. I wrapped it tightly around me and held the corner to my nose, taking in his scent. But then I heard a knock on the door, causing me to jump, and it brought me back to reality.

“Everything okay in there?” he asked through the door.

“Yeah. Just getting dressed.”

“Okay. I’ll be in my room when you’re done.” And then I heard his steps disappear down the hall, leaving me alone once more.

I dressed quickly, having to roll the band of the boxers a few times to keep them up. But once I had them where they wouldn’t fall down, the T-shirt covered them, making it appear that I didn’t have anything on beneath it. I didn’t have much of an alternative, considering even if I put back on my jean shorts, the shirt would still hide those, as well. The longer I stared at my pitiful reflection, the more the instinct to flee kicked in. I tried to stuff it down, push it away, but nothing worked. The room felt small and suffocating, the walls closing in on me. I leaned against the counter to catch my breath, but it didn’t help. I splashed cold water on my face, but the trepidation remained.

I needed to get out of here. I needed my house, my bed. I needed my pillow to catch the tears that formed behind my eyes. I didn’t want Bentley to see me this way. He wouldn’t understand. Hell, I didn’t even understand. My actions were of someone suffering posttraumatic stress, not someone who’d found herself in the bathroom of a friend’s house after spending half a year pushing everyone out of her life. It didn’t make any sense. What did I have to panic about? Where was this anxiety coming from?

I stood up, prepared to run, when I spotted a bottle of cologne on the counter. Forgetting about my quest to leave, I grabbed it, smelling the top. It was the sweet scent I’d found myself craving all week long. I pumped it into the air, stepping into the falling spray. And instantly, I relaxed. I wrapped my arms around my waist, kneeling until I sat on the cold tile. The thought of Bentley’s arms around me as I closed my eyes, enveloped in his scent, set my entire body at ease. That’s when my mind opened up and everything became a little bit clearer.

I used to cry to myself, alone in my room at night, always over the same things. No matter what I did, the image of my mom’s body lying in her bed wouldn’t disappear. That day played on repeat every time I closed my eyes at night—until Bentley. I used to think about how she went to lay down that morning, and I hadn’t even told her I loved her. Regret was a motherfucker, and since Christmas, my life had been consumed by it. Even though Bentley had helped ease the tragic thoughts that had once consumed my nights, regret was one thing that remained present.

The bathroom door slowly creaked open, catching my attention as two bare feet stepped into view. My sight drifted up a pair of legs, thighs draped in black basketball shorts, and a torso covered in a white T-shirt. Going further, I found a set of dark-green eyes, narrowed and regarding me with worry. It seemed like he’d stood there a while before moving, but it couldn’t have been longer than a second.

“What happened?” His deep voice sounded full of concern as he hurriedly sank to the floor in front of me.

“Nothing. I’m fine.”

“I knocked like three times, and called your name. You didn’t answer.”

I shook my head, wondering how I hadn’t heard that. “I must’ve been deep in thought. It’s fine, though. I’m okay. I guess I needed a moment. I’ve had a rather crazy week, and apparently, everything decided to hit me all at once.”

He grabbed my hand to help me off the floor but stopped, his eyebrows pinched together in confusion. “Did you spray my cologne?”

I giggled nervously and tried to hide my pink-tinged cheeks. “Yes. I don’t know why but it calms me down. I’m sorry, I know that’s weird. It reminds me of you, of having your arms around me, my ear to your chest… It’s soothing. It calms me. I can’t explain it.”

He pulled me to my feet and into his hard chest, holding me there with my arms circling his waist. “Nothing weird about it. And don’t apologize.” He pressed his lips to the top of my head, and just like that, the apprehension, unease, dread…they all vanished. “So what do you want to do? I think my cousin has cards around here somewhere. And he has enough movies to last a year’s worth of rainy days.”

I pulled out of his embrace and took his hand in mine. “Honestly, as long as it doesn’t freak you out, I kinda want to lay down. Maybe talk. Or just stare at each other until someone blinks first.” I gave him a coy smile, needing to lighten the heavy mood he’d walked in on.

His grin caused his eyes to sparkle before he turned around and walked out, pulling me behind him. Once we silently made our way to his room, I stood in the middle of the tidy space, glancing around while he closed the door behind me.

“This is a nice room, but there’s practically nothing in here.” A large bed sat in the middle of one wall with a bare dresser opposite it. Other than a single window and a clock, nothing else hung on the walls. A small closet was on the wall with the bedroom door, and one side of the accordion doors sat open, showing a few shirts on hangers, but nothing else.

Bentley quickly turned to close the closet door, and that’s when I saw the familiar corner curio cabinet. The back piece that sat in the corner was made out of a thick tree branch, because when Bree had found it, the back leg was missing, so she found a branch and sanded it straight to use as the support piece. I remembered her working on this piece, and practically begged her to not sell it because it was one of my favorites. The painting was simple and subtle, more of a rustic appearance, unlike some of her other more colorful pieces of furniture.

“Where did you get this?” I asked in awe as I ran my fingertip over the smooth wooden shelves that held nothing on them.

“It’s my cousin’s. I’m not sure where he got it. Why?”

“My sister made this.”

“She did? Really?” He seemed shocked, but then he shrugged.

“Yeah, Bree. She makes all kinds of furniture out of other people’s discards. They’re beautiful pieces. And she sells them at the flea market.”

“Your stepsister?”

I was surprised he remembered which one Bree was, but then again, I shouldn’t have been. He seemed to remember a lot of what I told him about my life. “Yeah, that’s the one.” I spun around to look at the rest of the room. “There’s like no personal items in here.”

“It’s my cousin’s spare room. No one ever stays in it. It’s been mine since I got here, but my stay was never meant to be permanent, so I haven’t had the need to personalize it.”

I moved to the bed and sat on the edge of the mattress. “Why did you come here?”

He ran his fingers through his damp hair and followed me, taking a seat on the other side of the bed. “I had shit to deal with, and I couldn’t do it from home. My cousin offered me a room, so I took it.”

“And he doesn’t mind that you’re still here?”

“When I came to stay with him, I didn’t know how long I’d be here. Everything has kinda been up in the air since I arrived, taking it day by day. He told me to take as long as I needed. We were really close growing up since my brothers are older than me, and my other cousins are even older than them. Luke and I had each other. We’ve always been more like brothers than cousins. But then his parents moved away from Dalton, so we didn’t see each other as much anymore once we were teenagers. Plus, I think he likes having me around. I’m sure he gets lonely here all by himself.”

“He’s not married?”

“Nah. He spent almost two years with someone, even bought her a ring, but it didn’t work out. She strung him along for a while after they split, but then he finally gave up.” The way he explained it made it sound nearly painful, as if it’d happened to him. It only showed how close he was to his cousin, and it made me think of Bree, of how close our relationship was despite not being blood related.

“Well, is he coming home tonight? I’d like to meet him.”

Bentley shrugged, relaxing more on the mattress. “I don’t know what time he’ll get in. He likes to close the bar down.”

“Oh, he owns the bar?”

He laughed and scratched his jaw. “No. I mean he stays until they close.”

I lay on the bed, rolling to my side to face him. “Do you pick girls up at bars or clubs? Or did you back home? Or not just those places…but anywhere. Is that why you don’t have an issue with it?”

He mimicked my position, rolling to his side until we were face to face, a small space of the bed between us. “Not really. I have before, but I never went out to bars much. And we don’t have any clubs where I live. I’ve never been much of a drinker to be honest with you. Maybe in my early twenties, but it wasn’t often.”

That made me feel so young, the age difference becoming noticeable. “So how does a horse trainer pick up chicks?”

The way he pulled his bottom lip into his mouth and then slowly dragged his top teeth over it until it released, hypnotized me. Then the deep voice that followed held the capability to compel me to do anything he asked. “Women love men who drive big trucks.”

“No…women love men with big dicks.”

He rolled his eyes, his chest rumbling with laughter. “What’s your obsession with the size of my dick? Little do you know, it’s actually quite small. Only three inches hard.”

“That’s such a lie. I saw the outline through your jeans on Monday. Maybe the tip is three inches, but you’re not fooling me.” I had to force myself to keep my eyes on his face and not let them travel to the place they really wanted to go.

“I was having a good day. Now that you know the truth, there’s no need to obsess about it anymore.” He winked and shoved his hand beneath his head, moving a little closer to me in the process.

“Whatever. And you seemed rather obsessed with it tonight as well with all your talk about filling me with it. You don’t need to act all humble about it now. The cat is out of the bag. So what? You’re packing a child’s arm in your pants. Own it. Flaunt that shit.”

“You fucking amaze me,” he whispered with a smile playing on his lips.

“How’s that?”

“You’re so comfortable talking about sex. So confident.”

“You weren’t exactly shy earlier, you know.”

His gaze lowered, hidden behind his lids and lashes as if I’d somehow embarrassed him. “That’s different. That was in the moment. Kinda hard to be shy when your hand is down someone’s pants and your fingers are inside them.”