The Beauty of Us (Fusion #4)

by Kristen Proby

  “I’m not—”

  “Excuse me, sir,” the salesgirl says in a bored voice through the door. “You have to come out of there.”

  “We got caught,” he says with a whisper, and wiggles his eyebrows. “We’re a scandal.”

  “You’re crazy.”

  “About you,” he says, and kisses my cheek before opening the door to step out. “Sorry, she needed my help.”

  “Uh-huh,” I hear the salesgirl say as she walks away.

  “She’s not amused,” he says through the door.

  “I wonder how many people try to have sex in these rooms?” I say.

  “More than you want to know!” the salesgirl yells from the front of the store. “And sound travels in here.”

  I hear Trevor chuckle, and I can’t help but join him as I zip up my jeans and gather my things. He’s leaning against the doorframe, his arms crossed over his chest, when I open the door.

  “Hi.” I smile up at him and feel the butterflies stir in my belly when his eyes travel down to my breasts and back to my eyes.

  “Hello. Would you like to accompany me home?”

  I tilt my head back and forth, as if I’m giving it a lot of thought. “Okay.”

  “Had me guessing there for a minute,” he says, and takes the dress out of my hands so he can link his fingers with mine. “Would have been embarrassing if you turned me down.”

  “Humiliating,” I agree, and watch as the salesgirl rings me up, folds the dress, and stuffs it into a bag.

  Before I can pass her my card, Trevor hands her his.

  “You don’t have to buy me this dress.”

  “I know.” He kisses the top of my head and rubs a circle on my back. “I want to. It’s really beautiful on you.”

  What did I do to deserve this man?

  Oh yeah, I dated assholes for more than a decade.

  I totally deserve him, and every moment of happiness that comes along with him.

  He’s carrying my bag, holding my hand, and leading me down the mall. We reach a gaming store, and he glances down at me.

  “I’d like to stop in and see if there’s a specific game that I can preorder.”

  “In Portland?”

  “This store is in L.A. too,” he says with a smile.

  “Let’s go, then.” He leads me through many rows of games to the checkout counter and the kid who looks like he might have just gone through puberty standing behind it. They talk games, specifically the one Trevor wants to buy, and I’m lost in the language that seems to be specific to the gaming world.

  Ten minutes later, we’re walking back out and Trevor’s game will be ready for him in L.A. in about a month.

  “I know it’s early, but I’m in the mood for some fro-yo,” I say as we pass the do-it-yourself frozen yogurt place in the food court.

  “It’s always time for fro-yo,” Trevor says with a grin. We make our way down the line, filling our paper bowls with the frozen treat and adding bits of chocolate, strawberries, marshmallows and whipped cream.

  I glance up at Trevor when I put the whipped cream back in its slot. “This could be fun sometime,” I say, eyeing the whipped cream.

  “It’s a date,” he replies, and smirks as he leads me to the counter so the young woman can weigh our bowls and he can pay.

  We’re quietly watching people pass by, eating our treat. The silence between us has always been comfortable. I love not feeling like I have to keep a steady stream of conversation going with this man.

  He seems to need the same amount of quiet that I do.

  “You have something right here.” He points to the side of his own mouth, and I stick my tongue out to search for it.

  “Did I get it?”

  “No.” He chuckles and reaches out to gently wipe some chocolate off the other corner of my mouth. I catch his wrist in my hand and lick the chocolate off his finger, making his eyes dilate. “Riley.”

  It’s a warning or a plea, I’m not sure which. We’ve had so much sex in the past few weeks, it’s a wonder that either of us can still walk.

  Every muscle in my body is sore. It’s a good sore, but it’s intense.

  Satisfying.

  “Riley,” he says again, and licks his lips.

  “I didn’t do anything,” I reply innocently, and take a bite.

  “You’re not innocent,” he says. “You can’t even try to fool me, I know you too well already.”

  “Well, I may not be innocent, but I’m pretty, so there’s that.”

  He laughs and tucks my hair behind my ear.

  “You’re not just pretty, you’re beautiful. Inside and out.”

  Keep saying stuff like this, and I’ll just keep falling right in love with you.

  “You’re good at words.” I steal a gummy bear off the top of his yogurt and pop it in my mouth. “Did you take a class in college for speaking to girls?”

  “No.” He takes a strawberry from my dish and eats it. “I just think it’s important to be honest and nice to the person you care about.”

  “Was that missing from your previous relationship?” I immediately regret asking the question. I really don’t want to know too much about his marriage because every time I think about him being married to someone else, I get jealous.

  Which is dumb because he didn’t even know I existed when he married her.

  And I didn’t know he existed, which feels weird because it seems that I’ve known him forever.

  “Sometimes,” he says. “We weren’t unkind to each other, but we didn’t give each other what we needed either.”

  “What did you need?” I forget about my yogurt now, leaning in to hear him better.

  He’s quiet for a long minute, his eyes on his dish as he moves his spoon around in the yogurt, and finally he looks up at me with sad eyes. “I guess I just needed to be seen. To be respected, even when my interests were different from hers.”

  I nod slowly. “I can see that. I’m not trying to compare myself to her in any way—”

  “You can’t,” he says, “you’re nothing like her.”

  “Good. But I enjoy watching you game, or listening to you when you talk about it. I don’t understand most of it, but it’s fun to watch your eyes light up in excitement when you talk about it.”

  “I probably talk about it too much,” he says with a sheepish smile. I reach over and take his hand in mine, giving it a squeeze.

  “No, you don’t. I may not play, but I want to hear your thoughts. It’s fun.”

  He kisses my hand twice.

  “You’re a special woman, Riley.”

  “I’m glad you think so, but I think I’m just a decent human being who finally found another decent human being.”

  “And I’m happy that you found me,” he says. “What do you want to do with the rest of our day?”

  “As long as I’m with you, I don’t care.”

  He stands and throws our empty bowls away, then holds his hand out for mine.

  “Okay; well then, let’s get started on it.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  ~Trevor~

  Spending the past week with Riley has been unlike anything else I’ve ever known. We’re just so easy together. If I need to be quiet, she’s quiet too. Being in her company never gets old.

  We’re both on her couch the following Thursday evening. I’m playing on the Xbox with Scott and she’s curled up beside me, reading.

  “So what was up with Angie not showing up last night?” Scott asks.

  I glance at Riley and kiss the crown of her head.

  “Angie has decided to stir up some trouble,” I reply, not uncomfortable in the least to talk about it in front of Riley, who glances up at me with a raised brow. “Scott’s wondering why she wasn’t in our group last night.”

  “What’s going on?” he asks as we both kill zombies.

  “Apparently, she’s decided that she and I are a couple, and she warned Riley that I’m also unstable and am capable of hurting her.”
<
br />   “Hurting Angie?”

  “No, hurting Riley.”

  “So, basically she’s crazy,” he says, and then curses when the zombies kill him. I run over to revive him.

  “Crazy bitch,” Riley mutters, making me grin. I like that she’s a bit jealous. If she wasn’t, she wouldn’t be invested in this relationship.

  And I’m pretty fucking invested.

  “Why didn’t you say something?” Scott asks.

  “I didn’t play with you guys last week.”

  “This happened before last week?” he demands, sounding more than a little indignant.

  “I’m just not sure how I’m going to handle it. I mean, I don’t have a problem not speaking to her, but we’re a group, and I need to talk to all of you about it.”

  “Seriously, I don’t think the other guys would have an issue if you suggested we didn’t play with her anymore. That shit’s not okay. It’s not like you’ve ever dated her, or fucked her, or whatever.”

  “Angie’s flaky,” I reply. “She goes through men like underwear. If that’s even true.”

  “I was just going to say that,” Scott agrees. “Who knows how much of what she says is true? And frankly, I don’t give a shit.”

  “You know,” Riley says, laying her hand on my thigh, “I don’t really care if you play with her in the group. I would just hope that you don’t play with her alone.”

  I smile down at this amazing woman, not even caring that a zombie just killed me. She’s so fucking sweet.

  “I don’t think you should do either one,” Scott says, clearly able to hear Riley.

  “I don’t either,” I reply. “I don’t appreciate her trying to fuck with my girl. She’s a liar and a pot stirrer, and that just pisses me off.”

  “I get it,” Scott says. “If she’d tried that shit with my wife, Wendy would have kicked her ass.”

  “I’m quite sure that Riley also wanted to kick Angie’s ass.”

  “It could still happen,” Riley whispers, making me grin.

  “I love it when she gets a bit violent,” I say to Scott, who chuckles.

  “Are things going well, man?” he asks.

  “Never better,” I reply honestly. “I can’t believe this week is almost over.”

  Riley keeps her head down, eyes pinned to her book, but I see her fingers turn white as she grips her iPad more tightly at my words.

  I kiss her head again.

  “I thought you were coming home today,” he says.

  “I extended the trip until Sunday afternoon. I have to be in the office Monday morning.”

  “We should go get a beer after you get back,” Scott replies.

  “Sure.” We’re quiet for a few minutes as the game intensifies and we concentrate on killing the enemy.

  “This game is pretty violent,” Riley says.

  “Yeah, we have the gore turned up on high,” I reply. “What’s the point otherwise?”

  “I’m not judging,” she says, holding her hands up. “Just an observation.”

  “Does it bother you?”

  “No, it’s fascinating,” she says. “I’ve watched you play this more than I’ve read this book. Maybe that means this book isn’t so great.”

  “Or you’re just enamored with me, and can’t concentrate on anything else.”

  “It’s too bad you don’t have an ego,” she says, and rolls her eyes. Scott laughs in my ear.

  “She’s funny. So what are you going to do about Angie?”

  “I’ll talk to the other guys next week, just to give them a heads-up, and then I’ll probably send her a message and tell her to back off.”

  “Has she sent more messages lately?”

  “Not to me.” I frown and glance at Riley. “Has Angie sent you any more messages?”

  “Just one,” she says, and shrugs one shoulder as if it’s no big deal.

  “What? When? What did she say?”

  “She sent it a couple days ago. Just said, ‘I haven’t heard from you, and want to make sure you received my message.’”

  “Did you reply?”

  “Fuck no,” Riley says with a scoff. “I don’t know her, and I know you’ll handle it.”

  “Good.”

  “And if you don’t handle it,” she continues, “I’ll tell her to go fuck herself.”

  “I really like your new girl,” Scott says.

  “Yeah, she’s our kind of people,” I reply with a laugh. “Smitty just joined us. We’ll kill more of these bastards now.”

  There’s no more talk about crazy girls I hardly know, or my private life at all, as the three of us go through the motions of kicking ass.

  When the game is over, I look over to find Riley fast asleep, her head on my bicep. Her iPad is resting in her lap, the screen black.

  “I should go, guys,” I tell them. “It’s time for bed.”

  “Have fun,” Scott says before he ends our group chat. I set the controller aside, turn off Riley’s TV, and lift her in my arms to take her to bed.

  Her eyes open immediately.

  “I can walk. I’m not that out of it.”

  “I’ve got you,” I reply, and kiss her cheek. “I want to carry you as much as possible while I still can.”

  “You’re quite romantic,” she says, and lays her head on my shoulder. “I like that about you.”

  I come awake the next morning and roll over to find Riley already watching me with bright blue eyes and a grin on her gorgeous mouth.

  “Good morning,” she says.

  “Morning,” I reply, and stretch, then reach for her. “I want to hold you for a bit, and then I’ll go get us coffee.”

  “I want to go,” she says with a grin. “Let me spoil you just a bit.”

  You spoil me every fucking day.

  “If fetching coffee makes you happy, who am I to say no?”

  “Exactly,” she says, and kisses my jawline. “You’re sexy in the morning, all rumpled and warm and sleepy.”

  “Hmm,” I reply, and drag my hand down her naked spine. “Back at you.”

  She smiles and kisses my jaw again, then pulls away from me.

  “Come back here.”

  Her eyes are sparkling with mischief as she shakes her head no. “I’m going to get us coffee.”

  She pulls on some Mickey Mouse yoga pants, a purple T-shirt that says mondays are for amateurs and yellow flip-flops.

  No bra. No panties.

  She twists her hair up into a messy knot, and throws a red hoodie over the ensemble.

  “You’re going like that?” I ask with a smile, and sit up in the bed, taking her in from head to toe. She even has mascara smudged under her eyes because I didn’t give her time to take her makeup off before I fucked her brainless last night.

  “It’s okay if I look homeless,” she says with a shrug. “I’m just going through the drive-thru. I’ll be back in ten minutes.”

  “Okay.” I grin as she leans over the bed and gives me a sweet kiss. “I’m going to jump into the shower while you’re gone.”

  “Good plan. I’ll take one when I get back.”

  She waves as she walks out of the bedroom, and when I hear the front door shut, I peel the covers off my naked body and pad into the bathroom that we’ve been sharing the past week. I like seeing our things all scattered together.

  Just as I’m leaving the shower and reaching for a towel, my phone rings.

  “Hi, sweetheart.”

  “Trevor,” she says, and I can hear the tears in her voice, making every muscle in my body tighten.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I have a flat tire,” she says, her voice full of frustration. “And I look homeless.”

  My lips twitch, but I know better than to laugh.

  “I’ll come get you,” I reply.

  “No,” she immediately replies. “I’m a hot mess, Trevor. You don’t want to see me like this.”

  “So you’re going to call a stranger to come help you?”

  �
�The stranger doesn’t give two shits that I’m braless.”

  “I’m on my way.”

  Before she can argue, I end the call and pull on my clothes, rushing out the door to find her. She’s pulled into a parking lot just two blocks away from Starbucks.

  I park behind her and walk up to the driver’s-side window, which she rolls down.

  “Hi,” I say, and she turns her sad little face to mine. She’s not crying, but she has the cutest pout I’ve ever seen. “Are you okay?”

  “No,” she says, shaking her head. “I spilled my whole coffee all over me.” She holds her cup up for me to see. “I drank the last little drop. And I am capable of changing a tire, but I do not want to get out of this car because everyone and their grandmother will be able to see this shit show of an outfit.”

  “To be fair,” I reply, and reach in to tuck a stray piece of hair behind her ear, “you’re not a shit show. You’re actually quite cute.”

  “You’re biased,” she replies, and crosses her arms over her chest, looking thoroughly disgusted with herself.

  “I love you,” I say with a laugh, and lean through the window to kiss her cheek. “I’m going to fix this. You sit here, and I’ll take care of everything.”

  I just told her I love her.

  I shake my head as I walk to the trunk of her car to find a jack and spare tire. This was not exactly how I planned to tell her that I’m in love with her for the first time, but she looked so dejected and sad I just couldn’t help it.

  I do love her, and damn it, I’m going to tell her.

  I pull the spare out of her trunk, but when I drop it to the ground, I can see that it’s flat as well. It’s probably never been used—or serviced, for that matter. So I stow it back in her trunk, shut the door, and walk back to her window.

  “I have good news and bad news.”

  “Okay.”

  “The good news is, I’m here to help you.”

  “The bad news?”

  “Your spare is flat. I’m going to have to call someone to take care of it.”

  “Well, shit.” She leans her head against the headrest and sighs deeply. “I should have stayed in bed with you.”

  “But then I wouldn’t have the delight of seeing you in this classy outfit,” I reply with a grin, earning a glare. “You’re adorable when you’re pissed off.”