Page 69 of American Love Story

“Let’s just stay like this,” he pleaded. “She told me before we went there, she wanted to ask him for some help with money for college, and knowing her, she would do whatever it took. When she left with him, I sat there feeling like my skin was crawling.” His voice was clogged, and the need to turn around and hold him was so intense, I was shaking. “When she came down, my father made a point of looking me in the eye, as if to let me know this was how the world worked. Right as we were about to leave, I saw a woman and two teenage girls coming into the lobby, with a ton of shopping bags. He walked right over to them like we didn’t exist. My mom and I just stood there until they went up to their room.”

He sighed then, sounding exhausted. “My mom and I didn’t say a word on the train, but a few days later, she left a bank statement on my bed. He’d wired fifty grand to her, which in the end was not even a third of what we needed.” He exhaled,voice strangled again. “For my college expenses. As far as I’m concerned, he never gave me anything. My mother paid for every cent we ever got from that man.”

“Can I turn around now?” I asked, needing to look at his face. He let go and I turned around so fast I almost elbowed him in the face.

I kissed him and wrapped my arms around his neck. “You’re amazing and so is your mother. Rising above so much. I can’t even imagine. I’m so sorry my father disrespected you and your mother today like that.”

“Bébé, don’t look so sad. It happened a long time ago. It’s done. I just wanted to tell you.” He laughed then, and it was surprisingly carefree, lighter than I’d ever heard him before. “I hadn’t told that story to anyone, not even Camilo, and that little fucker knows all my secrets.”

“Thanks for trusting me with it.”

The possessive way he pulled me to him, made it so hard to tamp down the urge to tell him everything I was feeling. Instead I smiled and nodded and kissed him again. I told him how much it meant to me that he shared that with me.

As we wound down and he fell asleep with his strong chest plastered to my back, my skin seared by the heat from his, I thought about the one thing I didn’t say.

chapter nineteen

patrice

“Why does the fucking world insist on cock-blocking my life?”

I bit back a smile as I made my way back up Easton’s torso, which I’d been licking and biting on my way down to his dick. “It could be important?” I said, trying not to laugh at the annoyed expression on his face.

“But it’s not even six and I’m not on call, and you were doingso well.” He grabbed his cock and stroked it as he looked at me. “I mean your tongue was really building up expectations. So…”

I didn’t even answer and leaned down to kiss him again. I covered him with my body, arms on either side of his head, my hips circling in that way that drove him nuts as I licked into his mouth.

“You want me to swallow your cock, is that it, Counselor?” He ran his foot over my calf and thigh, as he kissed me back.

He pulled back and those green eyes were twinkling with mischief. “Well, I wouldn’t turn that down, Dr. Denis. You’ve been so accommodating this morning already.”

Saturday, I’d woken up expecting to feel stupid or regretful about telling Easton about the stuff with my father, or for him to treat me differently. I should’ve known he wouldn’t. He’d woken up in my arms and gone straight to kissing and touching and telling me how much he loved having me in his bed every morning.

Everything felt solid.

Just as I was about to tell him so, his work phone went off and I knew whatever it was, it was important. I sat up to let him get the phone from the table. He groaned as he looked at the screen, and his face paled as soon as he said hello. I wondered if it had something to do with the trial. I knew the jury would not start deliberating again until this morning, so it couldn’t be the verdict.

“When?” he asked, his voice icy. “Motherfucker.”

He turned so that he could get up from the bed. When he looked at me, the way he could barely make eye contact, made me grab my own phone from the side of the table. I heard him hurry downstairs, his voice so hushed I couldn’t hear it. I didn’t need to, as soon as I opened the Twitter app on my phone, I knew what the call was about.

My mentions were out of control with people tweeting at me about another traffic stop. Apparently, last night police had stopped three young men on their way back from a party, for a broken taillight. During the stop something happened that resulted in one of them being hospitalized. It was hard to get the exact details of what had happened, but people were outraged. There were calls for the sheriff to resign and for charges to be brought against the deputy involved. My pulse raced as I tapped on tweets and headlines to get more information.

I got up from the bed, the bliss from the previous half hour long forgotten, and started putting on my clothes as I scrolled through my notifications. There was a DM from one of the local community groups asking me to join them in organizing a peaceful protest for that night. I stood in Easton’s bedroom looking at his picture window, it was too dark to see much, but in the distance I could almost make out the outline of the clock tower. I held my phone loosely in my hand, and I hesitated. I knew that whatever Easton was talking about downstairs hadto do with the reason for the protest I was being asked to help organize. A protest that would demand that the people in Easton’s position take some action about what was happening. I almost tapped out a yes, but I hesitated. Instead I shoved my phone in my pocket and made my way downstairs.

I didn’t need to ask how bad shit was, because it was written all over Easton’s face. He was standing in the middle of his living room with his eyes closed and his hands grasped tightly behind his head, looking spooked. He looked up at me as I walked over to put my shoes on, his silence more telling than anything he could say.

I took a moment to get my shoes on and pocket my wallet before I walked over to where he was still looking like he was about to puke. I knew what he was feeling because I felt it, too, the knot in my stomach that told me reality had come knocking and the connection that had felt so strong the last couple of days was already slipping away from our fingers.

But I was not one to delay the inevitable, so I said what had to be said.

“So they put a kid in the hospital this time. Sounds like whatever your friend the sheriff said to his deputies didn’t exactly take.” There was no way to keep the edge out of my voice. I could see the muscles in Easton’s jaw moving and I was wondering if he was trying to decide how much of whatever he heard on that call he was going to tell me.

“Baby—”

I don’t know if it was my face or what, but something about the situation made him stop talking and when he spoke again the intimate tone was gone. Still friendly, still warm, but I was no longer talking to my lover.

“I don’t know how much you got already,” he said, fidgeting with his phone. “But it was a broken taillight. The deputy flagged them down about five miles out of town. It was pretty routine,until for some fucking inexplicable reason, the deputy made them get out of the car.”