The pasta Bolognese I cooked is now cold and unappealing. If I ate a couple bites, that was a lot. This situation with Troy has taken away my appetite. My heart is too heavy, and my head is too full.
While I wait for Troy to come home, I put on The Big Bang Theory in the background and work on his character sheet. He told me he wanted to be a fun troll like Shrek. To me that translates as sarcasm and dark humor. I base the character off Fred, hoping he doesn’t notice that Troy will be pretty much acting like him—that is, if Troy still wants to come with me to LARP.
A pang flares in my chest, followed by insecurity. Did I ruin things between Troy and me already? I hate feeling like this, caught in a whirlpool in the middle of the ocean and not knowing which way is up or down.
I have to force the words out, glad it’s just a character sheet and not an entire story line. Another five hundred words and I’m done. It’s getting late. I check my phone again for the thousandth time. Still no word from him. Maybe he’s out with his friends, but he told me he might be playing tomorrow. He wouldn’t party the night before a game, would he?
My heart jumps to my throat at the sound of any car that drives by. This is crazy.
I wish Troy had let me explain the scene he walked in on earlier. My fingers hover over his name. I want to ask him when he’ll be home, but I don’t want to come across as a clingy girlfriend.
Annoyed, I toss the phone aside and stare at the TV screen. It’s the scavenger hunt episode, one of my favorites, and yet all the jokes are falling flat.
Tiredness begins to claim me. My eyes are droopy, and several yawns sneak up on me.
I lie down, pulling the blanket over me. My glasses get crooked, so I remove them and set them on the coffee table. Penny just told Raj to run back to India. I want to stay up to catch the final scene of Amy and Howard singing Neil Diamond at The Cheesecake Factory, but I don’t.
I wake with a slight shake of my shoulder.
“Charlie, wake up.”
I blink my eyes open, and my vision remains blurry for a few more seconds. Finally, Troy’s image sharpens. His hair is damp, and I smell fresh soap and toothpaste wafting from him.
Did he just shower?
I sit up, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. “What time is it?”
“It’s past eight.”
“Past eight? How is that possible? When I lay down, it was already ten.”
“It’s past eight in the morning.”
“What?” I glance at the window, noticing then the light pouring through the blinds. “I slept on the couch? Why didn’t you wake me when you got home?”
“It was late, and you looked too peaceful. I didn’t want to disturb you.”
I get up in a huff, annoyed that Troy let me sleep on the couch even if his explanation makes sense. I would have done the same thing for him. Truth be told, my irritation has a different source. He probably thinks I fell asleep on the couch, waiting for him, which is so not the case.
Liar, liar, pants on fire.
He’s already wearing a jacket, and his duffel bag is by the front door. “Are you leaving?”
“Yeah, I have to be at the stadium early.” He shoves his hands in his pockets. His sling is gone.
“So you are playing today.”
“Yeah. Probably not for the entire game though.”
The atmosphere surrounding us is thick and uncomfortable with the weight of words unspoken. I can’t let him go without talking first.
“Are we okay?” I blurt out, not beating around the bush.
He doesn’t speak for several moments, but his hard eyes remain locked on my face. “I want us to be.”
I breach the distance between us, even though there’s nothing welcoming about his stance. “What you saw yesterday was a friend consoling me. Nothing more.”
“And I believe you, Charlie. But there isn’t a single guy on this planet who would be okay with their girlfriend being best friends with their ex.”
“Are you saying you don’t trust me?”
“I don’t trust him.” His eyebrows pinch together.
“Well, then trusting me has to be enough,” I retort angrily. “Please don’t ask me to pick between you and Blake, or any of my other guy friends for that matter.”
A muscle in Troy’s jaw twitches. “I have no issue with you being friends with guys, Charlie. That’s not the problem. How would you feel if I started hanging out with Brooke?”
My heart bleeds at the thought. “That’s not the same thing. She wants you back!”
Troy takes a step back, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I can’t have this conversation with you right now. I’m already running late.”
He bends over and grabs the strap of his duffel bag.
“What about tonight? Do you still want me to come to Andreas’s Halloween party?”
God, why do I sound so pathetic?
He gives me a quizzical look, and then, forgetting his duffel bag, he steps into my space. He reaches for the back of my head right before he crushes his lips to mine. He kisses me hard and fast, and then, leaning his forehead against mine, he whispers against my lips, “I want you to come. Very much so.”
I curl my fingers around his T-shirt, afraid he’ll move away. “Good.”
I kiss him again, not satisfied with the first one. Troy doesn’t end it abruptly like before; he takes his time, savoring my mouth like I’m savoring his. When we finally break apart, we’re both a little breathless.
“Was this our first fight as a couple?” I ask.
He chuckles and rubs my cheek with his thumb. “I guess so. Too bad we don’t have time for makeup sex.”
“I guess we’ll have to save that for later.” I wink at him, feeling a million times better.
His eyes become hooded and locked on my lips. “Yeah.”
I’m not stupid to think this issue is over. I have no plans to cut Blake out of my life, but maybe I need to establish new boundaries. I understand Troy’s point of view, and if the situation were reversed, I’d probably be more consumed by jealousy than him.
“By the way, what are you wearing tonight?” I ask.
“Oh, Andy, Danny, Paris, and I are going as the Horsemen of the Apocalypse.”
“Who is Paris?”
“A guy on the team. You haven’t met him yet.”
“And what does your costume entail?”
“An all-black ensemble and skull-painted faces.”
“That’s cool. I didn’t know you knew how to put makeup on.” I smirk.
Troy flashes me a toothy grin. “I was hoping you would do it. Of course, if you’re busy with your own costume, I’m sure Andy can find another volunteer.”
“Hell to the no! I mean, he can get whoever he wants to do his makeup, but no one touches you but me.”
Troy’s smile grows wider. “That’s my girl.” He pulls his phone from his pocket and curses. “Shit. I am late. Coach will have my balls.”
He heads for the door, then stops before walking out to look over his shoulder. “I’d kiss you goodbye, but that would probably make me even later.”
“It’s okay, babe. My kisses don’t expire.”
A different emotion crosses his eyes, and I get the impression he wants to tell me something, but all he does is smile before he walks out.