Without You: A Friends-to-Lovers Small Town Romance

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Without You: A Friends-to-Lovers Small Town Romance Page 11

by Jennifer Van Wyk


  “Yeah. I can’t blame ‘em though, ya know? Everyone wants to talk about ‘em like they know something. Like they’re best friends.”

  “Very true.”

  “You know five vehicles were delivered today. Three of those I signed NDAs for. The other two, I honestly don’t even know who they’re for. Eric just told me he’d let me know.”

  “Bummer. That means you can’t tell me anything.”

  “Nope.”

  “And I can’t get it out of you?”

  Another lip twitch and this time he leans forward, his elbows resting on his knees. “How are you planning on trying to get information from me?”

  “Oh, trust me, I’ve got ideas.” I dip a french fry in ketchup and shove the entire thing in my mouth.

  “Thinking I might benefit from holding out then. You about done eating?”

  I shake my head. “No. I have half of my burger left and more fries.”

  “Think you can eat a little quicker?”

  I give him a look that I hope looks more serious than what I’m feeling. “B. This is a barbecue bacon cheeseburger from Murphy’s. You don’t quickly eat it. You savor it.”

  He chuckles and shifts once again so he’s leaning back against the couch. “My mistake,” he murmurs.

  “You’re forgiven.”

  We continue to make small talk as I eat — he’s already finished his meal — wanting me to rush through it but I wasn’t lying when I said that I wanted to savor it because whoever runs the kitchen at Murphy’s knows what they’re doing. It’s been a Benton staple forever. Long before my parents moved here. Will last for years, too. They make other items other than just burgers, but if you go there for a grilled chicken sandwich, you might as well wear a bag over your head because I’m pretty sure the residents of Benton will boo you on your way out. The burgers are just that good. I think they’d turn a vegetarian into a carnivore.

  The second I’m finished, my hands wiped on a napkin and balled up, placed aside, he motions me over with his hand. “C’mere, Katie.”

  “So demanding,” I say as I get up, completely willing.

  He pulls me down so I’m sitting right next to him, tucks me under his arm, and kisses me on the side of the head.

  “This is what I needed. Just you and me chilling out talking about our days.”

  By the heated looks he was giving me moments ago, I’d really expected at the very least another make-out session but apparently he just wants to cuddle. I’m not sure what that means. “Just this, huh?”

  “Just this,” he confirms.

  I know he feels me stiffen with worry next to him. He gives me a squeeze and asks, “What’s wrong?”

  I push against his chest so I can sit up and look up at him. “I just thought…” I trail off, not wanting to come off a certain way.

  “Just thought that I was coming over here for more than burgers and talking?”

  I bite my lip and shrug. “Yes, and no, I guess. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I like this, too. But we haven’t really discussed what’s happening here between us.” I mention, motioning between us. I hate not knowing where I stand with him. Sure, he’s said he likes me, calls me pretty, kissed me and is affectionate, but that could literally mean anything anymore. Dating is weird and while I don’t think of Brody as a one-night stand kind of guy, or even a guy who’d fool around with a girl he wasn’t serious about, how the heck am I supposed to know? “I think I just need to hear the words, I guess?” I admit.

  He folds his hand over mine. “You need me to spell out what’s happening here?”

  I rub my lips together and wish I’d have thought of throwing on some lipstick earlier. It’s a bit of armor for me, giving me confidence. “If you wouldn’t mind, I’d appreciate it.”

  His eyes hold mine when he explains, “I don’t do casual. Not to say that I can’t do it on the way to serious, but in this particular case, I have no desire to do casual. I like spending time with you. Don’t get me wrong, I really want to spend some of that time without clothes on, but we’ve got time for that. I want us to take our time and not rush. But if you need to hear me say the words, I want to take you on real dates, not just picking up food and eating it at home, and do everyday things together. I have no intentions of doing the things I’d like to do with you with anyone else, and I may not have the right to ask this, but I’d really like it if I was the only one doing them with you, too.”

  “Yes,” I whisper, my hands linked together and because my eyes are locked on his, I could fortunately see the brilliance that hit his eyes when I responded. Brody Redding has many looks I’m incredibly fond of, but this, right here, might be my favorite. Not just because he’s so incredibly handsome I can barely handle it, but because I’m the one who put that happiness in him so bright that it’s shining on the outside.

  “Yes,” he replies in agreement, kissing my lips once, twice, then slipping his tongue out to taste mine for a short kiss. The rest of the night is spent watching episodes of Stranger Things, our bodies pressed close together.

  We haven’t done more than kissing and heavy petting in the short time we’ve been spending time together and even though I needed clarification as to why he was only wanting to relax together tonight, I’m honestly not ready for anything more than that. Being together is exactly what I needed, too. Spending time with him and learning more about each other.

  It’s enough.

  For now.

  Five weeks later

  I was so excited to graduate from massage therapy school. I couldn’t wait. Now look at me. Just look at me. The last month of classes were intense, to say the least, but I may have seriously underestimated how hard it would be to go actually do the work I’ve been learning to do. It’s only been a week and I’m exhausted and overwhelmed. My professors warned me that until my muscles got used to the extra work, it would be pretty tiring. They weren’t lying.

  I thought being in class all day long and working for my daddy at night was a lot of work, but that was nothing in comparison.

  I’m.

  So.

  Exhausted.

  By the time I walk into my apartment at night, I’ve been gone for fourteen hours, and eaten three sub-par meals that I’ve packed into a cooler. The salon had been advertising the new massage service really well and I was booked solid. That’s a good thing, obviously, but it’s also overwhelming.

  On top of that, the weekends are spent making up time at Dad’s office because not only was I behind on my own work, his office manager Jeanie had a baby almost a month ago. Which, unfortunately was two months premature. Fortunately, the baby is healthy even though she has to be in the NICU for a while. Jeanie had planned to help my dad until his retirement at the end of the year then she was going to stay home with the baby. Everything just got moved up and since I already knew the work and it didn’t make sense for my daddy to hire a temp, I’m filling in. My last month of school was stressful enough, but then I added working nights and weekends to the mix, giving me little time to study or anything else.

  So yeah, I’m exhausted. And I really miss Brody. The last time we’ve been able to connect in any way other than text, phone calls, or a quick meal was when he brought burgers to my place.

  Five.

  Long.

  Weeks.

  Ago.

  The morning after, it felt like we were both thrust onto a runaway train and neither of us could find a way off. Our schedules are crazy and part of the reason for that is because he was told that his first deadline needed to be pushed up by quite a bit. He’s been working round the clock and I know his stress level is at its max because even though making vehicles fancy — my term, not his — comes natural to him, he still wants it to be perfect so the production company doesn’t regret their decision.

  I walk into my apartment and fall face first onto the bed, my arms and legs spread out and heave out a heavy sigh. What I really want to do is cry and then fall asleep for twenty-four hours straight.
I need a shower and a meal that consists of more than a sandwich of peanut butter and jelly or cold cuts. Unfortunately, that takes energy and that’s something I don’t have much of.

  I have no idea how long I lie here before there’s a knock on my door and I mumble, “It’s open!”

  “You just gonna let anyone in?” Brody’s deep voice says, a little irritated, as he walks into my apartment.

  “I’m too tired to care,” I say, face now turned toward him, but still lying down on my stomach.

  He sits on the edge of my mattress and places a hand on my back. “Hi.”

  “Hi.”

  “It’s been a long five weeks.”

  I whine. “That’s an understatement.”

  Brody brushes the hair off my cheek and tucks it behind my ear. “Don’t take this the wrong way, babe, but you look exhausted.”

  “I am,” I say, embarrassed when I feel tears build in my eyes. I swallow hard and fight against them, willing the tears to stay hidden. It’s always been one of the things I dislike about myself. When I get too tired, tears just appear out of nowhere and I can’t stop them. “I don’t even take offense to that.”

  “You need a break.”

  I shake my head. “I don’t have time for a break.”

  He helps me to turn around and sit up. When he has my attention, he tucks a piece of hair behind my ear and gives me a soft kiss on my lips. “Yes, you do. You deserve it, too. You can’t keep this up.”

  I can’t help the rush of emotion that hits me and those tears that I worked so hard to hide from Brody begin pouring out of my eyes. Along with a loud sob. He jumps into action, tucking me against his chest and rubs my back, soothing me and letting me cry.

  “Hey, hey. It’s gonna be okay.”

  I nod but can’t reply. Using the hem of my t-shirt, I lift it to my eyes and wipe away the moisture leaking from them. I sniff, hoping that I don’t have snot everywhere, too.

  “I’m s-s-so tired,” I whimper pathetically.

  “I know. Me, too.”

  I lean back and look at Brody. His handsome face. What an ass. How dare he not have huge bags under his eyes or stress breakouts all over his face? It’s hardly fair. I have a zit the size of Delaware on my jaw, the dark circles under my eyes could be mistaken for mascara smudges for how black they are, my hair is basically made up of dry shampoo now, my lips are chapped, my eyebrows could use a very serious waxing, and my nail polish is chipped. I roll my eyes and curl my lip. “Guh,” I huff, “you’re still good looking, though.”

  “Look who’s talking,” he says, raising his eyebrows at me. “You’re beautiful.”

  I scoff. Then scoff again. “Hardly.”

  With a hand on my cheek, he turns my face so I’m looking at him. “Hey. I said you’re beautiful and I mean it. I’m not in the habit of lying to people. Especially not to my girl.”

  I let out a deep breath and give him a little smile.

  “Thank you. But I don’t feel beautiful,” I add.

  “Let’s fix that. What do you need?”

  I lean into him again and he holds me tightly. “This is perfect.”

  “How about a good night’s sleep?”

  I almost weep at the thought. He could have just offered me a million dollars and it wouldn’t have sounded as good. “How’d you know?”

  “I’ve been sleeping for shit since we started down this path of busy schedules so I’m just being selfish. Hoped that maybe I just needed to lie down next to you and I’d get some decent sleep. Miss you.”

  “I miss you, too,” I whimper again, feeling the tears build up.

  “Hey. No more tears, okay? Let’s go to sleep, tomorrow is Sunday and we’re going to relax. Maybe catch up on a few things around here. Go to the store. Do all the domestic shit we need to that we’ve been putting off.”

  “Domestic shit? How’d we go from seeing each other a couple times to doing domestic shit together?”

  “When I realized that the last five weeks that I’ve been without you have been crap and I don’t care if we’re pushing a buggy through the market to get groceries or folding laundry, as long as I can actually see you.”

  Oh my gosh, he’s so sweet. “Now you’re gonna make me cry again.”

  “No more. Please, let’s sleep.”

  “Just sleep?” I ask, my eyebrows raised.

  “I’m so tired I don’t think I’d be able to do anything else. You think you can walk down the stairs so we can sleep at my house or do you want to stay here?”

  “Let’s go to your place. I want to see Sabrina.”

  “Using me for my cat.”

  “You know it.”

  We stumble our way down the stairs after closing up my apartment. Once inside his house, which is currently torn apart for the kitchen renovation, we immediately get ready for bed and slip under the covers.

  Sabrina jumps onto the bed and curls up next to Brody on the side opposite of me. If I was more alert and not so wiped out, I’m sure I would feel a little confused as to how to cuddle up next to Brody.

  All the questions that would normally be rolling through my mind like: What do I do with my arms? Am I supposed to be the little spoon? What if I drool? Or, heaven forbid, fart in my sleep?... none of them even register. And, oddly enough, falling asleep next to Brody in his bed feels like the most natural thing in the world.

  Just before I doze off, he says my name.

  “Katie?”

  “Yeah?”

  “I forgot to tell you. First guy’s comin’ to check out his vehicle on Tuesday.”

  That has me awake.

  “What?”

  “Yeah. I told you how everything got moved up because the artist had some other commitments. He wants to take a look at it, drive it around a bit, make sure we don’t need to adjust anything before it goes to the site of the video.”

  “Wow. So… he’s going to be here?”

  “He is.”

  “Will I get to know who it is after he arrives?”

  “Yeah. Wondered if you wanted to have dinner with us. Think he’ll be here for the evening and honestly, I’m sick of not being around you. If it works, I’d like to have you there.”

  I sit up so I’m on my knees facing Brody. Sabrina is still nuzzled next to his chest. He messes with her ear like he didn’t just ask me to have dinner with some country music star. “No way. You’ve seen me eat! I’d make a fool of myself.”

  He rests his hand on my thigh and rubs his thumb back and forth. “First of all, that’s not even possible. Second of all, who cares? You think they’re not human like the rest of us? This guy? He’s nothing special. Sure, he has a lot of money and has a really good singing voice, but that doesn’t mean he’s any better than you or me.”

  “Brody, you can’t be serious.”

  “I can be and I am. Trust me, okay?”

  “You really want me there?” I question him.

  “Of course. I told you earlier that the last several weeks have been crazy and it was a good kind of crazy. But I missed you. I want to share that with you. I want to share everything with you.”

  I lay my hand on top of his and he immediately flips his over, linking our fingers together.

  “We haven’t even gone on a date,” I remind him even though we both know we’re together. I just wonder if inviting me to an important dinner is jumping the gun a bit.

  “I know. And soon we’ll remedy that. You’re mine, just like I’m yours, even if the path to that has been pretty backward up until now. I like you. I want to date you. I want to do a lot more with you, I’ve told you that. We established that already.”

  “We have. You’re right. I’m being silly because I’m so damn tired and I missed you, too. I hate that we haven’t spent any time together lately. It sucks.”

  “It does. I wasn’t sure what to expect with this first customization but now that I know, I promise I’ll do better about making time for us, too.”

  “B, it was me, too. I’ve be
en so busy and not prioritizing well.”

  “Let’s stop the blame on ourselves. Right now, I want to sleep with you. Sleep. That’s it. Because the longer I lie here the more tired I become. I just want you to understand that we might be doing things completely out of order but I don’t care. I just want to see where it’s going and having you with me for this dinner would mean a lot to me.”

  Well, there’s no other way to reply to that other than, “I think I can handle that.”

  “Good. Now. Get down here. Sleep. Tomorrow we’ll tackle the crap we don’t feel like tackling but it will be better because we’re finally together. Then we’ll make a plan so that I don’t have to go five weeks without seeing you because that was stupid.”

  I curl up next to him, my knee bent and draped over his leg, my hand resting on his chest, one of his arms wrapped around me, keeping me close. “Sounds perfect.”

  “Night, Katie.”

  “Night, Brody.”

  If someone would have told me six months ago that I would be lying here with Brody, falling asleep, I would have laughed in their face.

  Life is certainly strange sometimes.

  Chapter Ten

  Brody

  “Brody Redding, nice to meet you,” I tell Chase, shaking his hand. This morning I was driving to the shop and his latest hit came on the radio. Now he’s standing in front of me in jeans and a plain black t-shirt. Could life get any stranger than this?

  “Chase. Good to meet you, Brody. This it?” He gestures to the black pickup I have ready and waiting for him in front of the shop. It’s cleaned, polished, waxed, and spotless. But per his request, the paint job makes it appear like there’s mud splatters behind the back tires. I gotta admit, even though I prefer a clean look, I totally outdid myself when I painted it. I could have gone the easier route and used decals, but I was hired to do a job and my dad raised me to put my best in everything I do. For the money I’m being paid, there’s no reason I shouldn’t go the extra mile.

 

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