Chapter 14

Peyton

Being stuck inside without a job or a class to focus on was pure hell. I was pretty sure that I was starting to lose my mind. There was only so much cooking and cleaning and masturbating a girl could do in a day without going a little cuckoo, and I was pretty sure I was about two steps before that point.

Case in point, I took my time to put together the world's most beautiful deli sandwich with thinly sliced tomatoes, pickles, mayo, and even alfalfa sprouts. It was a thing of beauty and I demolished it in about sixty seconds flat.

Part of me wished that Rocky was here because at least the tension would give me something else to focus on, but I refused to intrude on his life any further. He was doing me a huge favor, basically saving my life, so I would just deal with my boredom the old-fashioned way, by watching too much television.

I dropped down on the sofa with my legs curled under my body when I heard the sound of a key turning in the door. Even though I assumed it was Rocky, I froze and unfolded my legs, sitting up straight. On alert. The door opened slowly and in stepped an unexpected sight.

"Nolan. What are you doing here?"

"I stopped by hoping we could talk."

I bit my lip, and wished desperately for an escape. "What is there to talk about?"

"Us." The word came out with a hint of duh, as if I should have guessed.

"There is no us, Nolan." I said slowly. "We're friends, and that's all we are ever going to be. I thought we cleared this up already." I was really trying not to be that girl who flipped out and accused a nice guy of being a jerk, but it's like he wasn't listening to me, and it was starting to get to me. How many times could I say the same thing without snapping and being a bitch? I didn't want that.

He was wearing his favorite dark green hoodie, his backpack slung over one shoulder, and he hesitated as he came to a stop before me, on hand gripping at his strap. "You never gave me a chance."

I sighed and ran both hands through my hair, probably sending my curls flying crazily in all directions. "Sit down, Nolan, because I'm about to start screaming, I swear to god."

He frowned and slung off his backpack, dropping it to the floor, but before he could sit beside me, I pointed him to the second couch. "Over there, thank you."

"I'm not going to bite you, Jesus." He threw himself down on the single seater, staring at me in this way that made guilt tear all through me again. "What did I do so wrong?"

"Nothing, Nolan, I just…"

"Then why won't you give us a chance?"

"I did," I snapped, and then forced myself to relax. "I did give us a chance. You just… You weren't my type from the start, but I've dealt with so much bullshit from so many guys, I figured I needed to go against type just to see if I was missing something. So I said yes to you. But it wasn't right, Nolan. It wasn't right, and I tried, okay? For weeks and weeks, I tried. But I couldn't make myself want you like that, and I'm not going to force it."

He winced and looked away.

"I don't want you to change," I plowed on, hoping he would really hear me this time. "You're a great guy. Sweet and smart and so kind that you gave me faith in your gender again. But there's nothing there between us. When I look at you or think of you, I don't want to rip your clothes off. That's just as important to a successful relationship as all the other stuff. Not more. But not less, either. I'm sorry."

He remained quiet, looking off to the side. But I needed him to really, really get it. So I pulled out a final ace to nail it home, and hoped that he would finally let me go. "There's someone else."

He sucked in a sharp breath, frowning, but didn't look back at me or say anything.

"It's new," I continued, "but I'm interested, and if I ever get my life back, I might try to pursue him." He didn't need to know that the man was his father. Not yet, anyway.

"Seriously?" He was staring down at the floor as if he was confused by it, the little frown between his brows deepening.

I nodded. "Yeah, seriously. Look, I value your friendship, and you're probably the only man in the world I want to keep in my life after a failed dating stage, but if you don't want to be my friend, I get it."

He didn't immediately respond, but eventually, quietly, he said, "I can be your friend."

My shoulders sank in relief. "Good, because I have a favor to ask."

He nodded, and spared me the briefest glance.

"Lisa. She's worried and I want you to check on her. Make sure she's okay and let her know that I'm fine, without telling her where I am. Maybe take her to a restaurant and let her pay for your meal."

He shifted in his seat, and this time when he looked at me, he held my gaze. "Why?"

"Because she'll appreciate it, and she's worried. I can't tell her everything, and I trust you."

His lips thinned as he watched me, and then finally he stood and grabbed his bag. "Okay. See you."

I blinked. That was it? Okay, see you?

But then, he probably needed his space, and who was I to demand he react in any way that was unnatural to him? I let him go to the door on his own, watching him, but he turned to look at me over his shoulder before he stepped out.

"You love this guy?"

My brows jumped to my hairline. "I—love?" I blinked several times, my heart suddenly racing in my chest, although I had no idea why. "I don't know. Hell, I'm not even sure I'm capable of love."

He snorted and sent me a flat look. "You are. You just…" Then he sighed and looked down. "You just haven't found the right guy, yet, I guess."

He didn't look back at me, turning instead to face outside, and I didn't know what to say.

"Stay safe."

"I'm trying," I replied quietly, and then the door shut behind him.

***

An hour later, I was lying flat on my bed, staring at the ceiling, unable to get my encounter with Nolan out of my head.

Look at me, pining away for a man who didn't want me when there was a good and decent man who did. I was so screwed up. It was truly laughable, but like Aunt Myra used to always say, the heart wants what the heart wants.

Besides, I had bigger things to worry about, like keeping my heart beating and staying alive. Rocky was doing exactly what he promised, keeping me safe in his home, and nothing more. I couldn't be angry with him. His life was complicated enough without adding his son's ex-girlfriend to the mix, and, yeah, sure, it hurt like hell, but it was what it was, which was pretty much the story of my life.

Instead of worrying about Rocky and my non-existent love life, I needed to focus on my future. And to do that, I needed to focus on the present, as in finding out who in the hell killed Chloe so that I could get back to work and my future. It was time to focus on me and my life, not the fairytale ending I secretly wished for with the sexy biker who didn't have room for me in his life.

My phone buzzed and my heart kicked into high gear, wishing and hoping that it was Rocky. That he was thinking of me in the middle of his day, that he couldn't help but reach out to me because his pull to me was as great as my pull to him.

When I went to my phone in the kitchen and picked it up, my heart stopped beating. The message wasn't from Rocky. It wasn't flirty or fun or full of promise.

It was quite the opposite, in fact.

You can't hide from me, lover. You will be mine. One way. Or another.

Whoever it was, wanted me to be afraid, terrified, and they had succeeded.

I couldn't help but wish Rocky was here, and I ran to his room, burrowing myself into his sheets and letting his scent envelop my senses and sooth me.

Like a child, I hid beneath his sheets, and wished it was his arms that wrapped around me instead.