Distraction (Westbrook Series Book 1) (22 page)

I'm sitting here watching Avery and Trevor basically duke it out about whether or not I should break up with Sam over this. It is all becoming so overwhelming, with their words swimming around in my head. Everybody seems to know
exactly
what I should or shouldn't be doing, except for
me
.

I quietly rush out of the room, while the two of them continue their heated discussion. They are so caught up in it, they don't even see me leave. I close the bathroom door, and sit on the side of the bathtub with my head between my knees.
Is Avery right? Do I need to talk to Sam and hear him out?

I did immediately shut him out without really giving him a chance to explain everything.
Or is Trevor right? If Sam really cared about me, why would he wait until after he was already on the date to text me? Why was it even a text in the first place?
He should have had enough decency to call me on the freaking phone.
What a coward!

A soft knock draws my attention to the door.

"Lays, come back out here. We're
really
sorry. I know it's not up to us. He is
your
boyfriend, and
you
should follow whatever is in your heart.
Please
come back. I think we could all use a good dose of comedy right now. Trevor picked up
Shaun of the Dead
from Redbox. . . . It's supposed to be a pretty funny horror flick. Have you seen it? Trevor
swears
by it."

Hearing Avery's pleading voice loosens up the tightness in my chest a little. I agree that a movie might be a good distraction.

"Okay, fine," I finally respond. Just give me a minute, okay?"

"We'll be downstairs," she sings out, as I hear the pitter-patter of her feet fading away down the hall.

Speaking of horror flicks, I look like a character straight out of one. Grey streaks that look like tiny racetracks are painted across my red, blotchy cheeks. My eyes are puffy and red.
I can't believe I let Trevor see me like this
. He probably thinks I'm a real head case.

At least my hair still looks somewhat straight, and the curls are behaving for once. I was so sure that the humidity would pull all of my freshly, flat-ironed locks back up into stubborn ringlets, the second I walked outside. This reminds me why I even bothered to flat iron it in the first place. I wasn't planning on leaving the house.
Sam and I were going to sneak into the garage to make out
.

My heart tugs a little. I can feel everything rising up into my throat. I don't want to think about Sam right now. I just want to pull myself together enough so I can go downstairs, watch this movie, and not think about Sam for the rest of the night. I will decide what to do about him tomorrow.

I open the cabinet in search of Avery's makeup bag. I want to try to quickly cover up this mess on my face. Thankfully, it is neatly tucked under the bottom cabinet. I quickly touch up my makeup, and brush some bronzing powder across my cheeks. I couldn't make all of the red go away, but I definitely look much better.

Trevor and Avery are snuggled up together on the love seat, with nothing but a bowl of popcorn resting in between them.
Oh, what I would give to be that bowl of popcorn right now.
Trevor's arm is securely wrapped around Avery's shoulders, and her head is leaning against his. They look so natural together, that even I have a hard time understanding why Trevor hasn't kissed her yet.
What if he kisses her tonight, and the sparks start flying between them?

I kick off my wedges, and lay down on the sofa with my legs stretched out. There is still so much space not being used. Seeing the two of them, so close to each other on that tiny love seat, only exaggerates the length of this couch. I cross my legs and tuck my dress underneath them, as I rest my head down on one of the pillows.

"Can I have some popcorn, guys?" I really hate to remove the one barricade that is left separating them, but the smell of salt and buttery deliciousness seems to have won that battle, thanks to my growling stomach. Trevor almost falls right off of the couch, spilling the bowl of popcorn all over, when he realizes that I’m here.

Did he not want me to see him so cozy with Avery?
I've been here for a good five minutes. Avery is so right about him. You never know what to expect. He's probably worried that I'm going to be pissed at him for making a play for my best friend, when I know he likes someone else. The truth is I should be mad, but I'm not. It seems that I don't have any anger left inside of me after Sam.

"Well, it appears that we do not need to watch a horror movie to scare the
bageezies
out of Trevor." Avery jokes with Trevor, while playfully tossing popcorn kernels at him.

"I didn't see her come in," Trevor says defensively, while throwing a handful of popcorn back at Avery. "And
this
is for sneaking up on us."

He tosses some popcorn my way. Avery and I both reach over into the bowl at the same time, and start shoveling handfuls of popcorn at Trevor feverishly. He snatches the bowl out of Avery's hands, and dumps the rest of the contents over our heads.

We are all laughing hysterically, as we look at each other's popcorn-covered hair. Trevor is flashing me his
take-me-to-bed-now
smile, making my insides dance with excitement.
Shouldn't he be looking at Avery that way?

I shake my hair out, and brush all of the popcorn off of me, while Avery runs upstairs to get the vacuum cleaner. Trevor keeps looking at me, but I refuse to return the look. I'm trying to keep myself preoccupied by scooping up popcorn off the couch and coffee table.

When all the big pieces are back in the bowl, I bravely decide to sneak a quick glance at him. Sure enough, his gorgeous green eyes are oozing with sexiness, as he studies me intensely. The look on his face is branding me in a way that only makes things more confusing.
How am I supposed to be friends with you when you look at me like that? Where is Avery? How long does it take to get the stupid vacuum cleaner anyway?

Right as I am about to walk away, safely out of the clutches of his captivating eyes, he grabs my shoulders, and turns me so I am facing him. His hand pauses for a moment, as he looks at me thoughtfully, before reaching up to gently pull a piece of popcorn out of my hair. He waves the piece of popcorn in front of me, as if to explain. Then, he drops it into the bowl without breaking his gaze. I swallow hard, as my heart rate picks up.

He reaches up, brushes his thumb lightly across my cheek, and simply whispers, "What a
fool
," while shaking his head.

I turn away from him, and finally let out all of my breath in one big gust. I didn't even realize I was holding it. For a brief moment, I was certain he was about to kiss me. He kept staring at my lips with that same needy look that Sam gets in his eyes right before he kisses me.

He quickly pulls his hand away and starts pacing the room. He is running his hands through his hair nervously, over and over, as he walks to the staircase and back. I am just standing there, trying to make sense of things.

"I'm sorry, Laila. I shouldn't have . . . I . . . I don't know
what
I was thinking. It's just . . . You are just so . . . ." He stops, before he can spit out whatever it is he is trying to tell me, when he hears Avery banging things around at the top of the stairway.

He races to the top so he can carry the clunky vacuum cleaner down the steps for her. Avery follows him, and sets a fresh bowl of popcorn onto the coffee table. My stomach growls, but I've sort of lost my appetite for popcorn. I want to know what Trevor was about to say. Yet, at the same time, I don't really want to know. For some reason, I have a feeling that what he was about to reveal would change everything between us, and I just can't deal with that tonight.

We all find our spots again on the couches, but Trevor doesn't sit close to Avery the way he was before, when he didn't think I was in the room. His arm is now resting along the top of the sofa, barely, if at all, touching her. She doesn't seem to notice his change in demeanor, but I can tell he is upset about something.
Is he mad at himself because he almost kissed me?
Wrapping a soft, fleece throw around me, I snuggle up into a ball.

I can't help but sneak peeks at Trevor at different times throughout the movie. He seems to be doing the same thing, but always pretends that he is looking at something else when I'd catch him. I started doing the same thing with him. It ends up becoming a little game that we silently play as we watch the movie.

At one point, he just smiles and winks at me when I catch him. He carefully shakes his head, and mouths to me, "You're so
bad
."

I am so worried that Avery is going to see us, or catch on, but she is so focused on the movie that she doesn't notice. We are very careful, making sure we laugh at all of the appropriate moments, but I know that it is really stupid for us to be playing this game in the first place. We are pretty much playing with fire, waiting to get burned.
Haven't I been burned enough for one evening? Plus, why does it always feel like this with Trevor?

If you were to ask me, I couldn't tell you what the movie was about, but I can tell you that Trevor's left ear wiggles slightly when he laughs. His right dimple is just a hair deeper than his left. He runs his hands through his hair when he's nervous. He bites his bottom lip when he is thinking hard about something. He seems to be a little hot-headed at times, but usually it's for hidden, very sweet reasons. The guy has more expressions than I have socks.

Instead of watching the movie, I spend the entire evening either flirting shamelessly with Trevor, or thinking about why I can't seem to get him out of my head. Wanting to find a way to prolong the evening, and keep Trevor here longer, I suggest that we play a game.
I am the devil
.

"What
exactly
did you have in mind?" Trevor asks, while wiggling his eyebrows. "Spin the bottle? Strip poker?"

Avery slaps him on the arm, and says to him, "I know it's hard when you're hanging out with two
smoking hot
chicks like Laila and me, but try to reign in your
perverseness
just a little, okay?"

He feigns innocence and holds his hands up as if Avery is pointing a gun at him. "I have
no idea
what you are insinuating, Avery," he proclaims dramatically, while crossing his arms over his chest.

His muscles are flexed in all of the right places, so his t-shirt is pulling tightly across his chest and stomach. I avert my eyes quickly, when I see him peering at me with a curious smile on his face. I can tell from my peripherals that he is biting his bottom lip, and running his hand through his hair, but I refuse to face him. I can't help but wonder what he is thinking about.
Why is he so nervous?

"Let's play quarters. We have
vodka
," Avery sings. "It's even the
good
stuff." Avery pulls a chilled bottle of clear liquid out of the freezer behind the bar, and slams it onto the bar top. Clear drops of condensation trickle down the frosted bottle, over the blue and white label that says Grey Goose.

"What about your parents?" I ask, eyeing the staircase warily.

"Um, Avery. I can't be playing drinking games. I still have to drive home, you know?" Trevor is looking at Avery, but he seems distracted.

"My parents are asleep, and I can have my neighbor take you home later."

"How do you know your neighbor is even home?" Trevor asks.

"Who, Bill?
Please
. He's
always
at home. He's a
total
nerd, but he's sweet as can be, and would do
anything
for me."

Isn't that the truth?
Bill Taylor is completely and totally in love with Avery. The poor guy trips all over himself every time she is anywhere near him, and he seems to always have this stupid glint in his eyes when he looks at her.

"
Come
on
, Maddox. You can come back and get your car tomorrow, or you could just stay over.
Please?
It will be so much fun." She bats her eyelashes, and cocks her head to the side.

Trevor and I look at each other and smile, as we shake our heads. We both know that there is no winning when Avery makes up her mind about something.

After about thirty minutes, the formerly half-full bottle is nearly empty, and Avery is so far gone, she can barely hold her cup up straight enough to take a sip from it. This is when I decide to end the game. I am feeling quite tipsy myself, even though I've only finished about two shots worth of vodka.

It turns out I have a hidden talent.
Who knew that I would be so good at flipping quarters into a cup?
Needless to say, Avery is not very good. Trevor is decent, but even he has had more than his fair share of vodka tonight.

When she finally passes out, Trevor scoops her into his arms, and carries her upstairs to her room. I help him get her into bed, making sure she has a bottle of water on her nightstand, and the trash can close by, just in case. I remove her shoes, and pull the covers gently over her. Before leaving the room, I snatch a pillow from her bed for myself, and flip off the light.