Page 27 of Detour

Too many things are running through my mind to argue. Like what the hell that crap with Beckett was. His behavior was nothing like our time together earlier. His size alone is intimidating without throwing a silent death stare in the mix. And Coty, well, Coty was just an ass. Again. His problem with Drew was entertaining at first, now it’s just irritating.

Ready for bed, I crawl under the covers, watching as Drew pulls his shirt off. He’s beyond handsome—there’s no denying it. He has short auburn hair that he styles slightly to the side. His eyes are like the brightest part of a sunset. He almost always has a five o’clock shadow that I’ve been teasing him about since he first shaved. He wears polos, khakis, and loafers. Always. It’s not my style at all but I’d be stupid not to appreciate how attractive the man is. I’ve just never seen him as anything other than a brother though. Even sleeping next to him shirtless, the thought has never crossed my mind to blur those lines. I know the feeling is mutual so we’ve never had to worry about it. He’s had girlfriends over the years and I’ve had the occasional friend with benefits, neither of us once showing a single sign of jealousy.

Sometimes I wonder if him putting me first has made his relationships end quicker than they should’ve though. He’s never said anything to that effect, but I don’t know if Drew has a limit when it comes to me either. Would he ever find a girl worth walking away from me for?

That thought would’ve sent me into a panic a few weeks ago but now that my independence is strengthening, the idea makes me more hopeful than anything. I don’t want to hold him back. We’re not kids anymore. We both have bigger and better lives to go after. I can’t be selfish by constantly keeping him tangled in my troubles. It’s not fair to either of us.

“Thank you for being you, Drew. I love you,” I whisper, facing him as he climbs in next to me.

He flops onto his stomach—his signature sleeping position. Teasing with my own words, he cracks one eye and whispers, “Don’t get soft on me now.” Then, softer, “I love you, too.”

I leave him sleeping the next morning with a note on the counter about locking up when he leaves. The apartment across the hall is quiet as I make my way downstairs. Pulling my long ponytail through my hat halfway down, the voices on the boys’ balcony have me pausing my steps.

“Last night was…”

“You fucking puked in the tub, dude. Coty had to clean that shit up.”

“I almost puked just looking at it. What the fuck did you eat anyway?”

“Ugh, it must’ve been from yesterday with neighbor girl. Double cheeseburger.”

Three groans erupt.

“Dude’s car is still here. And she kept her windows shut for once. Think she got some?”

I stomp on the last two stairs announcing my presence.

“Oh, shit. I love a good walk of shame.”

“Morning, boys,” I greet, using a chipper voice I don’t feel in the slightest.

“Morning.”

“Good morning.”

I think Marc grunts out some form of greeting but I can’t be sure.

“Ready to apologize yet?”

All three are looking a little rough and it makes me feel slightly better that they’re paying for last night.

“For what?” someone asks.

“Being assholes,” I deadpan. Isn’t it obvious? “You treated my guest like shit. I live here, too, you know? If you guys can’t be civil, then you’re going to have to stay the hell away from me.”

“Oooh, neighbor girl’s still feisty. What’s wrong? Your guest didn’t wear you out enough last night?”

Shaking my head at Beckett’s stupidity, I climb in the driver’s seat, calling up, “He’s the one still sleeping. What do you think?”

He throws his head back in a hearty laugh while Marc whistles. Coty refuses to meet my eyes.

Yeah, I’m continuing this nonsense about Drew being my boyfriend, or whatever, but they make it too easy.

With a wave goodbye, I leave them to their commiserating, hoping they’ll take me serious about leaving me out of their drama from now on.

CHAPTER 13

Angela