Distraction (Westbrook Series Book 1) (23 page)

Even though Trevor is by no means drunk, he still shouldn't be driving. Despite what Avery said earlier, her neighbor Bill isn't home yet. So, we head back downstairs and wait.

It is a little awkward at first, but then Trevor starts talking. I think he is just trying to keep things from getting weird, because he is talking about anything and everything.

He tells me what his friends are like in Philadelphia, and how hard it was for him to move away for his senior year. He tells me about his ex-girlfriend, and how she broke his heart by breaking up with him, so she could date one of his close buddies. He says it was bad for a while, but that he eventually had to let it all go. Then one day, he just realized she wasn't the right girl for him anyway.

Is his ex the girl with the beautiful big, brown eyes that I saw on Facebook?
He talks a whole lot about her, but not once does he say her name. I don't ask any questions. I just listen intensely.

"So, what about
you?
Has anyone ever broken your heart, Patterson? I mean, other than Sam?"

I realize that I haven't thought about Sam for most of the night, and I've been fine. I was more than fine. It was actually kind of fun. Trevor has been a welcoming distraction, for once. The only problem is, he isn't really allowed to be
my
distraction. Even if Sam and I break up tomorrow, it's not like Trevor and I could ever be together. I could never hurt Avery like that.
She is my best friend
.

"Don't laugh at me, but Sam is my first
real
boyfriend."

His eyebrows shoot straight up, and I swear that his eyeballs are about to pop right out of their sockets.

"Really?
Wow
. . . That is kind of hard to believe. So, wait a second. Didn't you and Sam
just
start dating last week?"

I simply nod and look away. I know it's true, but knowing it is one thing. Hearing him say it out loud is quite another.

"It's okay, Patterson."

I look at him and blush. He is looking at me with such an intense gaze that I don't really know how I'm supposed to react.
Why does he have to be so damned attractive?

"I know. It's just kind of embarrassing."

He keeps looking at me like he wants to say something else, but he doesn't. He is just sitting there, biting his bottom lip. This makes me nervous because I know he is thinking about something.
Oh. My. God. Is he thinking about my lack of experience with boys?
Now my cheeks are on fire.

As soon as I feel the prickling heat, his lips break out into the biggest grin. "
What?
" I ask. "Just
say
it.
Whatever
it is that you
want
to say, but are too afraid to say. Please just spit it out already, okay?" I ask with frustration.

"Only if you
promise
you won't hit me when I ask you this?" His dimples are pulled in tightly across his cheeks, and I can't help but smile myself.
Damn him and those dimples
.

"Okay, so if Sam is your first boyfriend and you only started dating last week, was he your
first
. . . ." He takes another deep breath, before finishing his sentence. "I mean have you ever kissed a guy, before him? I assume that you and Sam
have
kissed, right? I mean
of course
you have, you're dating, right? He's your
boyfriend
, right? You
have
kissed him,
right
?"

He keeps asking the same question over and over, but with each occurrence, there seems to be more uncertainty in his tone. It's funny to see him stumbling over his words. It is so unlike him. He is now staring at my lips again, as if he wants to kiss them. The truth is that I
want
him to. I
really
,
really
do, so much that it is freaking me out. I have to turn my head away. My face feels like an inferno.

"To answer all of your questions,
yes
, I have kissed a boy before Sam, and actually that answers two of your questions, because now, you know that Sam and I have also kissed. You already knew that we're dating."

"Did you guys ever kiss before? I mean, before last weekend?" he asks. His eyes still haven't left my lips.

"Boy, you sure aren't
shy
about asking me
deeply
personal questions, are you?"

"It's
your
fault. You practically dragged it out of me. You wanted to know what was on my mind." He punches my arm playfully.

"No. Friday night was our first ever kiss, although I would have
gladly
kissed him sooner, if given the opportunity. He never seemed to notice me before that, though. I guess I was always just Kyle's little sister to him, you know?"

"I have
no idea
how he or anyone else could
not
notice you, Laila. I'm pretty
sure
he did. You probably just didn't realize it."

I look at him doubtfully, but I don't disagree with him.
What's the point?

"I bet you didn't even know that I had a crush on you in junior high, did you?" He has a coy smile on his face, and he is biting that bottom lip again.

"What?
No way
." I shake my head in disbelief.

He said he
had
a crush on me, as in
before
,
in the past
, not in the present. I feel a slight sinking sensation in the pit of my stomach.
What difference does it make anyway?
Even if he still had a crush on me right now, it's not like we could do anything about it.

"Yeah. I
totally
did. Every time our parents got together, I wanted to come along, just so I could see
you
. You didn't give me the time of day, though. I guess some things don't ever change," he says with a sly smile.

"What is
that
supposed to mean?"

He has that dazed look on his face again, the one from the lake. "Can you
really
not see it, Laila?" He runs his hands through his hair, and starts pacing again.

"Trevor?" I try to get his attention, but he ignores me. "Trevor.
Stop
. Would you please just come back here for a sec?" I place both my hands on his shoulders to steady him. Just this brief contact sends about a million bolts of electricity pulsing through my arms. He must feel it too, because now, his cheeks are flushed.

"
What
are you talking about? You keep saying things, and I have
no idea
what you mean by them." I am staring directly into his eyes as I speak.

He takes a deep breath and swallows hard." Do you remember how I said that the reason I'm having a hard time getting closer to Avery is because I think I might like someone else?" I nod, as uncomfortable feeling sneaks into my stomach.

"Well, it's . . .
you
. I can't stop thinking about
you
. I mean, I figured after three years I'd be over it, but then I saw you at your party last week, and I just . . . ." He sighs again. "Laila, I always thought you were beautiful, but somehow in the last three years, you grew up, and now, you are just . . . so much more. The instant I saw you, all of these old feelings came rushing back. The more time we spend together, the more I realize that it isn't really
just
a crush anymore. It's more intense than that. I like so much more about you than just the way you look."

I have absolutely no words. I know that we've been playing around and flirting, but not in my wildest dreams, was I expecting him to say
that
.

"Laila, I guess what I've been trying to say to you, is that I
really
like you. When I found out you were dating Sam, I thought I was going to lose it. I was thinking that
maybe
, since you guys just started dating, that there is a chance we could . . . ."

"Trevor, just . . .
stop
. Please stop talking. There is no point in you telling me all of this. I
do
have a boyfriend, and it really doesn't matter if we have been dating for one week or one year. I am not breaking up with him to be with you. Plus, my best friend is
head-over-heels
in very much
like
with
you
. There isn't a boy in this universe that is worth betraying our friendship. I'd
really
like for us to be friends, though."

My words come out more harshly than I want them to, but maybe that is a good thing. The truth is, I needed him to stop talking because I was getting dangerously close to doing something I know I would regret for the rest of my life. I can't let him know how I really feel about him.
Hell, I haven't even fully admitted to myself the extent of my true feelings for Trevor Maddox
.

He doesn't say anything for a long time. He just buries his head in his hands, and starts swearing under his breath. I want to wrap my arms around him, and console him, but I know I shouldn't confuse things any more than they already are. I need to keep my distance. We need to stay in the
friend zone
more now than ever before.

"Look, I better head on out," he finally says, after what feels like an eternity of silence between us.

"Are you
sure
you're okay to drive?" I ask, knowing very well that my rejection has probably left him stone-cold sober.

"I really didn't drink all that much. Plus, I haven't had anything to drink for more than two hours. I should be fine."

I nod. He isn't slurring his speech or acting like he's drunk. No, it's so much worse than that. The look on his face makes my stomach lurch violently. I can't help but feel like this whole thing is my fault.
I mean, what did I expect to happen after flirting with him all night like that?

"Laila, I'm sorry if what I said made you uncomfortable. That wasn't my intention. I just wanted you to know how I feel, and I thought that
maybe
there was a small chance that you felt the same way. I'd like for us to be friends, too." He looks down, as if it is too painful to look directly at me. He has his hands buried deep in the pockets of his shorts, as he shifts his weight back and forth nervously.

His apology is sweet and sincere, but his emerald eyes seem to be storming with pain. Knowing that more truth lies there than anything he could possibly say to me, makes my heart ache. I wish there was a way we could go back in time, and redo everything from Friday on. I could tell Avery that I might have a crush on Trevor, claiming him as my own, instead of the other way around.

Then, there is the whole Sam part of it.
What would I do differently with Sam?
Everything was so perfect.
Was
, that is, until tonight. It's still hard to want to undo any of that, even if I am feeling more for Trevor than just friendship. The more I think about how great my time with Sam has been up until today, the more I am tempted to turn my phone back on, and listen to all of his messages.

"I'm so sorry." It's the only thing I can say to him right now. He nods. With his chin cemented to his chest, he walks slowly to his car.

I close the door behind him and latch the lock. I can't seem to get the hurt look on his face out of my mind. It makes me sick that I had to lie to him, but I know I did the right thing. My stomach hurts so badly right now that I want nothing more than to just vomit. If only it were that easy, to expel this sick feeling inside me.

Chapter Eighteen
: I'm Just So, So Sorry
 

Needless to say, Avery is a little on the cranky side in the morning. This helps convince me to go home early, and deal with the Sam situation. I'm definitely ready to hear what he has to say. It could be challenging for us to sneak away alone, long enough to talk it through, but we've been pretty creative up until now. I'm sure we'll think of something.

As I pull into the driveway, I spot Kyle's car parked on the street. The knots in my stomach immediately tighten. I head straight up to my room without looking for anyone. I want to take a shower and change clothes, before even thinking about facing Sam. Both Kyle's door and the guest door are propped open, which means they are either outside swimming, or are downstairs in the basement playing video games.

Just as I'm about to shut my bedroom door all the way, a hand catches the side of it, and pushes it back open. In my haste to pack, I did not bring an extra outfit. I am wearing the same dress I had on last night. I scrubbed my face clean this morning, and did not reapply makeup. My hair is all kinds of crazy, tamed only by having it twisted up into a messy bun.
Tame
is actually the last word I'd use to describe this mound of frizz, haphazardly piled on top of my head. Normally, I would not dare let Sam see me like this. But today, I am so exhausted by this whole ordeal that I couldn't care less.

"Knock, knock," Sam says softly, while poking his head through the open space between the door and the doorjamb.

I close my eyes and take a deep breath, while releasing my dangling backpack.
So much for that shower I was so desperate to get.
I slowly open my eyes, pull the door the rest of the way open, and motion for him to come in. I keep my head down the whole time, refusing to look at him. I can see the bottom edge of his shorts, and his brown leather flip-flops.

"I know we can't talk long with Kyle still here, but I just wanted to pop in, and tell you how sorry I am. I handled everything so poorly. I've been a really
shitty
boyfriend, Laila. I know
that
, and I wish I could redo it all." He sighs, and shakes his head.

I'm not sure if he expects me to say something, but I really have nothing to add. When it's clear that I am not going to speak, he continues rambling on.

"I've replayed it in my head a thousand times, and each time I tell Kyle,
no
. I don't completely choke, and we end up spending the whole night together, just you and me. I don't know why I panicked when Kyle said that. I
swear
, it was like the fucker
knew
about us. I just . . . I
screwed up
." His voice sounds strained, as if it physically hurts for him to speak.

I don't know what to say to him or what to do about it. This is the part where I wish I could just skip ahead, and have us be back where we were before last night.
How do we get back there?

"I'm just
so
,
so
sorry." He keeps shoving his fidgeting hands in and out of his pockets. He is also tapping his left foot nervously, as he waits for me to reply.

I still have no idea what to say. I believe him, but it doesn't change the fact that he went out on a date with another girl. It doesn't change how he handled it all. It doesn't erase all of the tears I cried last night. I'm keeping my eyes focused on my feet. I'm afraid to look up, because I know if he looks at me with his sparkling eyes, I will instantly melt.

"Please say
something
, Laila. I'm sweating bullets here. I didn't sleep at
all
last night." His voice catches in his throat.

If I didn't know him better, I'd think he was fighting back some tears. That isn't like him, though. He does not cry. He didn't even shed one tear at his grandpa's funeral, and there is nobody that he was closer to in this world. Sam is definitely not a crier. He probably just has something caught in his throat or something.

"I didn't sleep very well, either." It is the only thing I can think to say. I fall back against my bed, and drape my forearm over my face, to block out the light. My eyes are starting to burn, but there is no way I am going to cry in front of him. After another awkward moment of silence passes, he finally concedes.

"Well, I guess I'll give you some time to think about things. When you are ready to talk, I'll be downstairs." He pauses for a minute. "I
really
am sorry, Laila," he whispers.

When I hear the door click, I sit up, and wipe away the stray tears that are trickling down the sides of my face. Even though I didn't look at his face, I know his eyes were full of sorrow, that his hands were sweating, and his stomach was a mess of knots, twisting and turning. I know this whole thing just feels like a slow form of torture to him. I know all this because it is exactly how I feel. I really don't want to be angry with him. More than anything, I just want to let it all go, and bury myself in his long, muscular arms.

A hot shower will have to do for now. I end up taking the world's longest shower. It feels soothing to let the water continuously run down my back. Steam has fogged up the glass doors and all of the mirrors.

So many things are on my mind. I keep replaying in my head, what Trevor said to me last night. I think about everything Sam said this morning. I think about the way I feel when I'm with each of them, and how I don't want to be anywhere else, or with anyone else, at that time.
How is it possible for me to feel so strongly about two completely different guys?

The sad truth is, there is no hope for any kind of future with Trevor. I need to lock the vault on that, and throw away the key. The problem is, every time I am around him, I seem to forget my head. My body responds in ways that I don't know how to control. I am just drawn to him. It is so powerful that no matter how hard I try to fight it, he gets in there, tugging at my heart. Now, I know he feels it, too.
What am I supposed to do with that?

And then there is of course, the love of my life, my Sam, my
happily ever after
. Through all my silly teenage crushes, he is the only one I've ever seen myself with in the end. He is practically part of our family. Even though I know him almost as well as I know my own brother, he surprises me. He always leaves me panting breathlessly when we are together. Our lips seem to be made for one another. He
is
my boyfriend, and I don't have to fight to get him. Being with him won't hurt the people I love, either. I'm pretty sure Kyle will have to get used to the idea, when we tell him, but I'm sure he'll come around.

I quickly throw on an old white t-shirt with my faded denim skirt. The fabric is sticking to my damp, lotion-lathered skin, but I don't really care. I slip on my navy and white striped flip-flops, and assess my reflection in my full-length mirror. It's by no means, one of my Avery-approved outfits, but it is comfortable, easy, and very much a
me
kind of look.

I end up throwing on my mint-green stone necklace, just to give it a little pop. I smile a little, because the necklace sort of pulls it all together, and I know Avery would be so proud of me. My hair is still wet, curly, and wild, but it will have to do. I brush bronzing powder across my cheeks swiftly, and swipe my bubble gum flavored lip-gloss across my lips. After a couple of sprays of my perfume, I decide that I'm ready. I just want to get down there, and get this over with.

Kyle is busy talking on the phone in his room with his door shut, when I pass by. My parents must be at work, which leaves Sam and me alone, downstairs. He is resting on the love seat, staring absently at the television, which is displaying what appears to be some sort of golf tournament.

His white, button-down shirt is rumpled, and his sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, revealing his golden-brown, toned forearms. I can see a light grey t-shirt peeking out, just above the top of his crinkled, open collar. He is wearing an equally wrinkled pair of long, slate-blue cargo shorts. His long, muscular legs are casually crossed, and propped up on the couch.

He looks sexy as always, but there is just something about a guy wearing a white shirt that just completely wrecks me. Part of me wonders if Sam somehow knows this. He certainly picked a good day to be wearing white. My stomach is already in over-drive with nerves, but now I can feel the heat starting to prickle across my cheeks.

I try to gently push his feet to the side, so I can sit next to him. He quickly uncrosses his legs, sits up, and grabs the remote to turn the volume down. "Hey," he says tentatively.

"Hey. I don't want to be mad at you, Sam," I say, while shaking my head. I lean my cheek against his shoulder, and start playing with the cotton fabric on his shirtsleeve, as the rest of my tense body relaxes against him. He reaches his arm up, but then pulls it back, as if he is a little unsure whether or not he should put his arm around me. "I forgive you," I say quietly.

He sighs, as if he was holding his breath. "You have
no
idea
how good it is to hear you say those three words, Laila." He laces his fingers with mine, and kisses the top of my head.
And just like that, I once again feel safe and at home with him
. He lifts his arm up, and wraps it around my waist to scoot me closer to him. He is holding me in an almost protective way. I nuzzle my face in close to his chest. We stay like this without saying anything for a while.

He finally breaks the silence when he says, "Go for a walk?" knowing that Kyle could be down here any second now. I finally allow myself to look up into his eyes. The moment I do, they light up. A huge grin stretches across his face, causing that familiar warmth to spread throughout my body. I didn't realize just how much I've missed that smile until now.

He places his hand lightly against the small of my back, leading me to the door. Once we round the corner, Sam wraps his hand around mine, and lightly squeezes, as if to remind himself that I am here. We don't say much to each other, as we stroll around the block.

We don't want to return to the house, knowing that we'd once again have to hide our relationship. More than anything, I just want to feel his soft, warm lips against mine. I want his kiss to melt away everything else that has been causing so much chaos in my head lately.

When we round the corner to our court, I tell Sam to go ahead inside. I’m going to walk a little longer. That way, Kyle will not see us entering the house together. He stops two houses down from ours, and wraps his arms around me again, to give me a long hug. I have my face pressed up against his chest, and can hear the loud hammering of his heart. I inhale his clean, woodsy scent, and smile.

His chin rests on the top of my head, while our embrace lingers. He gently cups my cheeks on both sides, forcing me to look up at him. "I really missed you, Lis." He lowers his head to me, and gently brushes his lips against mine.

As I had suspected, his lips are doing an incredible job of erasing the swarming tension that has been hijacking my body since yesterday. Once my body feels liquid, I pull away, and urge him on. I'm still a little worried that Kyle could see us, if he were to look out the window. He squeezes me in a tight hug one more time, and kisses my neck while letting out a low, sexy growl.

The second he peels his body away from mine, I feel an ache so deep inside of me that I almost whimper out loud. It’s as if my legs are made of heavy cast iron. I am having trouble moving them from where we stood. For a few minutes, I stand there, at the edge of our neighbor's driveway, staring off down the road at nothing in particular, while thinking about this whole week.

Just ten minutes alone with Sam, is all it takes for me to center myself. I no longer feel the pull of Trevor, and my conflicting emotions about the bomb he dropped on me last night. I still feel a little bad about how hurtful my outright rejection must have been for him, but I know he will be fine. In time, he will no doubt, find an amazing girl, someone who will return those same feelings, a girl who is
allowed
to feel that way about him. Now that I have made my intentions very clear, perhaps he will even reconsider dating Avery. After all, he said himself that his feelings for me, were kind of getting in the way.

When I am finally able to shuffle my feet enough to start moving again, I round the corner, and continue my walk. It's a slightly cooler day, but still in the low nineties. Summers in Brookville can be brutal, but I wouldn't want it any other way. I enjoy experiencing the extremes of all four seasons, which is what we usually get. I think the change is what makes you appreciate each season. Even though summer is my favorite, I wonder if I'd love it as much as I do, if it were like this year round.

An insistent howling directs my attention across the street. A large, honey-colored, doughy-eyed Golden Retriever is peering at me through the white picket fence. I jog across the street, so I can pay him a quick visit.

"Hey there, Puddles. How's it going? Are you all alone today in this heat, buddy?" He is panting heavily, and is moving toward me in a slow, lethargic way. He pulls back his black gums, as if he is trying to smile at me. His long, pink tongue dangles limply over the side of his mouth. I stroke the top of his soft, warm head, right between his ears. His eyes squint lazily, the same way you do when you're getting a massage.