What He Really Feels (He Feels Trilogy) (2 page)

BOOK: What He Really Feels (He Feels Trilogy)
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I walked over to a dark corner of the parking lot and sat on the curb. I don’t know why I felt the need to torture myself, but I had to know.

And my suspicion was confirmed as I sat there in the back of the parking lot after she had broken things off with me and I saw Nick’s classy Beemer pull into a spot a few minutes later. I saw him rush out of his car toward the building, and I saw him disappear inside a moment later.

Presumably he was running over to comfort her, to kiss her, to fuck her. He was there, replacing me. He got to be with her, while I got to live with the torment of getting so close and totally missing the boat.

I headed to my car and got in. Each motion was mechanical and automatic. I turned the key in the ignition and drove home. I arrived, dropped my keys and wallet on my kitchen counter, and crawled into bed.

And then, I did something I hadn’t done since my uncle had died six years earlier.

I cried.

 

Sleep had always been my friend. A good friend. Maybe even a best friend. Our relationship was one of give and take; sleep gave to me and I took it freely. I could sleep through an earthquake (in fact, I had once). I could sleep through construction. I could sleep through a woman leaving my bed to save me from an awkward goodbye.

But it turns out that I couldn’t sleep through a broken heart.

I tossed and turned all night, unable to greet my friend, unable to give into the only thing that would help me forget about the hell I was in.

I finally caught an hour or two just after dawn, the jarring sound of my cell phone ringing waking me up far too early. I opened my eyes, and they burned in the daylight. I hadn’t thought to close the blinds in my despair the night before, and sunlight streamed into my bedroom, attacking my swollen eyes with a vengeance.

I glanced at my phone and saw her name and her familiar face lighting up my screen: “Julianne Becker.”

Fuck.

Of all the goddamn things to wake up to after losing an entire night’s sleep over her.

I didn’t have it in me to talk to her. I knew that she felt bad about what she did, but I wasn’t in a place where I could even hear her voice at that moment. I needed some time apart from her, time to figure things out. I was done living my life for her. That anger that I hadn’t felt when she had first told me she didn’t want to be with me was starting to rear its ugly head.

I was ready to just be selfish for awhile, and that meant not answering the phone. 

I sent the call to voicemail after a few rings. She would know I purposely hadn’t answered, and maybe that would upset her. But I didn’t give a fuck if it upset her. No; that’s not true. I wanted it to upset her. I wanted her to hurt inside as much as I was hurting. But she had Nick to take care of her; she had someone to lean on, while I was left alone in the dust. She left a voicemail, which, to torture myself further, I listened to immediately. “
Trav, it’s me. I had to call to see how you are doing. I’m just… I’m sorry about everything. Call me. I need to hear your voice.”

Too bad for her that I couldn’t alleviate that need for her.

My phone buzzed again, this time with a text from my buddy Dan
:
San Diego women are fucking ridiculous.

Women everywhere were fucking ridiculous.

Good ridiculous?  Or bad
?
 
I texted back.

Spectacular.
When you coming out?

I thought about it. Daniel Larson and I went
all the way back to grad school. We had a ton of classes together, and through study sessions and bitching about professors, he had become my best friend. He also, incidentally, made a great wingman when I needed it, and I always provided him the same service.

Dan’s
lifelong dream had been to live near a beach, so after we finished our degrees, he moved to San Diego. My dad didn’t want him to be competition for his company – he was
that
good at design – so my dad poached Dan from another company to help start a subsidiary in San Diego. Dan visited often because he still had family in Arizona and my dad held various trainings and meetings at the headquarter offices in Phoenix.

A plan formed in my head.

What if I moved there
?
I texted.

Dan’s reply came in the form of a phone call.
“Seriously? D and T back together? We would tear this fucking town up, dude.”

I wanted to laugh, but I was too depressed.
“Yeah. Seriously.” Certainly he could sense the depression in my tone.

“Why?”

“Shit went down with Jules.”

I knew he’d understand. He had been my friend for a long time, and he knew about that part of my life. He was the only person outside of my family who knew every detail about my love for Julianne. Well, as much detail as guys share with each other about their emotions.

“Sorry, dude.”

“Thanks.”

“Want to talk about it?”

No. I didn’t do that touchy-feely shit. “Thanks but no thanks.”

He laughed. “Gotcha.”

And then I started talking. That was our thing. We could never admit to wanting to talk about something, but he was a good enough friend to listen.

“I finally told Julianne how I felt, some shit went down, and in the end, she wrote me off for another guy. It’s officially over. I don’t even think I can be her friend anymore.”

“Maybe you’re better off without her.”

“Doubt it.”

“What made you finally tell her?” he asked.

“I was drunk, she was single. Seemed like a good idea at the time.”

“But it wasn’t.”

“It wasn’t,” I confirmed.

“So now what?”

“Maybe San Diego?”

“My roommate moved out last month. I’ve got room if you need somewhere to stay.”

“I may take you up on that.”

I went into work to get my mind off of shit, but it didn’t work. At least the fucking waterworks were over, and I was thankful for that. I threw myself into a new project and stayed late working on it.
I was working on a hotel design. I preferred clean, sleek lines, and I was sketching out the building by hand first. A lot of architects went right to the computer, but I liked seeing my ideas on paper first. Once I was happy with the basic design, I moved over to the computer and fired up autoCAD for my 3D design.

When I said I stayed late, I meant later than I’d ever stayed before in my career. It was a little after midnight when I got home, and I crashed, my friend sleep coming for a brief visit but not staying as long as usual. I may have gotten a good three hours that night.

Friday was more of the same. I was in robot mode, trying everything I could to just put her out of my mind and focus on work.

My work phone rang a little before lunchtime. “Travis Miller,” I answered automatically.

“T, it’s dad. Are you free for lunch?”

My dad had nearly retired, but he did occasionally do business on the golf course, and he still came in to check on his staff a few times a week. It wasn’t rare for him to take me out to lunch, but I wasn’t in a good frame of mind for sitting around shooting the shit.

“I’m in the middle of a project, Pops.”

“I’m not taking no for an answer.”

“Why’d you bother asking, then?” I grumbled.

He laughed. “Meet me in twenty minutes.”

“The usual?” The usual was Denny’s. My mom hated Denny’s, so anytime my dad and I went out by ourselves, we hit up our favorite place. It didn’t hurt that it was a four minute walk from my office, either.

“Yeah.
See ya in twenty, kid.”

I walked into the restaurant crowded with a lunch rush, my dad already having claimed a table. I spotted him and slid into the booth across from him.

“Hey, Pops.”

“Hey, kid.” He glanced up from the menu at me, and he held his gaze on me for a moment, studying me. “You okay?” The concern in his voice was evident, affection written across his features.

“Yeah. Why?”

“You look tired.”

“I’m fine.”

“You sure?”

I blew out a frustrated breath and looked down at the menu. It was a charade for us both; we both always ordered the exact same meal when we went to Denny’s: a Grand Slam with scrambled eggs, bacon, hash browns, and pancakes, but looking at the menu gave me somewhere to look besides my dad’s prying eyes.

“I’ll take that as a no. But I will also take it that you don’t want to talk about it.”

I drummed my fingers on the table, a nervous habit that I had picked up from the very man sitting across from me. “Thanks.”

The waitress came
by, saving me from a conversation I didn’t want to have. It was hard enough dealing with it on my own, but Jules was like family to my family. Despite my anger, I still inexplicably felt the need to keep her reputation untarnished in the Miller household. And telling my dad that she had slept with me and then dumped me would certainly tarnish her squeaky-clean image.

We ordered our usual, but I opted for a glass of orange juice instead of my usual coffee. I was already wired up on caffeine from a fitful night’s sleep and any more would’ve just made my hands shaky. Try designing a hotel with shaky hands; it’s not easy. But, unfortunately, any tiny deviation in my usual meal at Denny’s caught my dad’s concern.

“Orange juice?” he asked after the waitress turned around. I studied her ass as she bounced away. She was cute. Maybe early forties – a little old for me, but I’d been with a handful of cougars. They were usually pretty wild in bed, but I wasn’t ready for sex. I couldn’t think about anyone except Jules as it was; I wasn’t sure what would happen if I got a woman in my bed. I’d probably break down in tears or some stupid shit.

“Yeah.
I didn’t sleep well last night and I’m already wired on caffeine.”

“Understood.
Mind if I ask why you didn’t sleep well?”

“Yeah, I mind. But I have a feeling you’re not letting me out of it.”

“Smart kid.”

“Jules and I are over.”

A flicker of shock passed across his face, but he masked it well. “Didn’t that just start?”

I nodded. “It’s a long story. Suffice it to say, it didn’t end well and I already miss her like crazy.”

“I’m sorry, kid.”

I swallowed past the lump in my throat. “Thanks. Can we, uh, talk about something else?”

“Sure thing. This actually may work out better than I first thought.”

I glanced up at him. “What might?”

“I have some openings in San Diego. I haven’t told anybody this yet, but things are about to explode down there. We’ve got new structures left and right, lots of redesign and some new builds. A lot of retail, some hotels, and a multi-tainment center. I was going to ask your opinion on a few different projects, and I had planned on using Dan as a key in hiring some new people, but what if you two worked together?”

“Like via Skype?”

“No. Like via the same office.”

“You want me to move to San Diego?”

“The thought just occurred to me. I know you’ve always wanted to stay here for a lot of different reasons, but what if one of those reasons just gave you the motivation to spread your wings a little?”

“Huh,” was all I could muster. This was too weird.

“Think about it this weekend. The hours will be a little firmer than the freedom I’ve given you here, but you’ll also have a little independence from your father.”

I stared at him, thinking how weirdly coincidental it was that I had literally just spoken to Dan about this same possibility.

“I’ll need to know by Monday.”

“I can give you my answer now.”

The waitress dropped off our drinks, and my dad poured two creamers into his coffee, stirred it, and took a sip before looking me in the eye. “Well?”

“I’m in.”

“Are you sure?”

I nodded. “Sign me up. I need to get the hell out of this town for awhile.”

“Your mother is going to kill me.”

I shrugged. “She’ll be okay.”

 

Sometimes it’s best to just start over.

That was the guiding thought that led me to click “Check Out” on the U-Haul website, confirming my rental of a fourteen foot truck that I would pick up the following Saturday.

I randomly told
Dan that I was thinking about moving to San Diego, and then my dad told me about an opportunity for a job there? Sounded meant to be to me. The stars aligned or some sappy shit like that. The “why” didn’t matter; what did matter was that I was ready just to be there.

My next move was to hit up Home Depot for boxes and packing tape. I would be starting my new job in San Diego in a couple of weeks, so I didn’t have much time to kill.

I was listening to a CD that Jules had made for me as I packed up my kitchen. Ironic, I know. It had all of her favorite songs from 2007 on it.

BOOK: What He Really Feels (He Feels Trilogy)
7.14Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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