Chapter 51

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Chapter 51

Warning

*Mature Content*

I had been sitting in my car outside Wayne's house for fifteen minutes. I wasn't looking at the door he pushed me up against. I wasn't looking at the window I climbed into when I was too desperate to wait to see him until the next day. I'm looking at my soft, black leggings wondering if he will reach out and touch them. I was trying to remember when the last time he held my hand was. Sixteen minutes now.

I turned my car off, stopping the air conditioning's process of not making me melt to death in the late spring weather. I should sit in the hot car and let myself sweat instead of cry. Seventeen minutes.

I know he was watching me. I don't dare look, but I know he was. Before I could help myself, I was out of the car, locking it, walking up to his black door. As my knuckles grazed the door, Wayne opened it as if he was standing there, waiting for me to knock.

His eyes were wide, but started to relax as we stared at each other. They crawled over my body as he slowly exhaled. I couldn't help but blush. His shirt was a navy blue and he paired it with grey sweatpants.

"Hi." I breathed. Wayne gently shook his head. "Are you going to let me in?"

He laughed at himself and moved to the side. As I walked passed him, I smelt his signature coffee scent. I froze in place when he closed and locked the front door behind me. I saw him stealing a glance at the back of my leggings.

"What?" I scoffed and smiled at his slack jaw. He cleared his throat and went straight for his bedroom. When he touched the handle, I took a step back.

I know my boundaries. To save myself from further pain and reflection, I cannot walk through that door. I can't see the corner that caged me in with the monster that I blamed myself for unleashing.

"I don't want to go in there." I stood my ground. Wayne nodded and went off to the living room. Relieved, I followed him.

A blanket was loosely thrown on the chaise. It was rumpled, as if he had been sleeping on his couch. I don't blame him. If something like that had happened in my bedroom, I wouldn't want to sleep in there either.

Wayne waved a hand over the spot, then scratched the back of his head. He reminded me of a child making a mess and showing their parents proudly. I let out a little giggle and took a seat on his "mess."

I rotated my phone back in a circle, switching it between my fingers. My head hung and I bit my lip. My leg tapped on the ground.

"What do you want to do?" I spoke up. My stomach growled and red traveled all over my face.

"Can I cook for you?" He said. "I have something I think you'll like."

I looked up at his hopeful eyes. How does he make me smile so easily?

I agreed and he offered me the remote. He told me to put on anything I want. I laid down under the thick throw.

I wanted to start watching Bridgerton on Netflix. A new season had come out a month ago, but I needed to finish the first one. I turned on the pilot episode.

"Aren't you going to join me?" I looked over my shoulder to see him laying out all of the ingredients for a meal I remember all too well.

"I'm watching, gorgeous." Wayne spoke casually. He moved gracefully around the kitchen, like didn't realize what he had said, and how it affected me.

I lost myself in the film. I wished I could talk like the Bridgertons. Anything I said would sound like a poem. I feel like the Penelope Featherington of my family.

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⏰ Last updated: Jan 03, 2023 ⏰

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