He wasn’t seeing my point.
“I’m not saying I’m weak, Trev. I’m just tired. Tired of living like this,” I said, waving my arm. “Tired of working my butt off and walking miles to and from work each day because I can’t afford a car. Do I complain about it? No, you’ve never once heard me complain about how unfair it is that some people get to live on easy street while others are struggling to make ends meet. But you know what? I’m tired of buying food at the dollar store, because the bread there sucks. I’m tired of seeing other girls my age going out every Friday because payday for them means dropping a hundred dollars on dinner and drinks while for me, it means clearing my debt and helping my sister. I’m tired of not having the things I deserve to have because that woman died and left me all her problems.” Tears streamed down my face. “I’m just so tired.”
Trevor wrapped his arms around my shoulders and whispered in my hair. “I’m so sorry, babe. I didn’t mean to make you cry. I get it. Shhh. I get it. It’s late and you’re exhausted. I just don’t want to see you give up so easily that the next guy who comes along thinks you belong to him. That he can push you around and walk all over you because he’s taking care of things. Remember shithead?”
He meant my ex who’d cheated on me.
“April,” he said, holding my face in his hands and wiping my tears away. “I don’t want you to think that you deserve that kind of love. I don’t want you to think it’s okay for a guy to fuck around or talk down to you because he’s paying your bills or letting you stay with him. You see where I’m going with this? If a guy loves you, he’ll buy you fucking Jamaica and walk away. He won’t hold that shit over you so you’ll—”
“I think our conversation train derailed,” I mumbled, sniffling as he looked at me and smiled. “That’s a little deep, Trevor. All I want is someone to take care of me for a change. It doesn’t have to be forever, just long enough for me to catch my breath. I’ve been doing good on my own, but I never wanted to grow up so fast. Even when my grandma was alive, I had to take care of the shopping and cooking. I’ve been more of a mother to Rose than a sister, and it shouldn’t be that way. I just want someone I can count on—a man who will turn the world upside down to help me find a slice of happiness because he loves me that much.”
“Damn, girl,” he said, wiping my tears with the pad of his thumb. “You should have been a romance writer. I’m not going to tell you Mr. Perfect is out there, because that’s a load of crap. But I will tell you that I’m here, and no matter what, I’m looking out for you. And tomorrow, we’re going to pick up some shit to make this place a joy to live in.”
I laughed hysterically and whipped the small pillow out from behind me. “What’s the matter, you don’t like the embroidered pillows?”
“For kindling on the barbecue grill? You bet. Otherwise, I don’t want your granny’s fart pillow beneath my chiseled face and lips of a Greek god.”
“You must have left off on chapter six,” I said, glancing at the paperback.
He snatched it off the table and thumbed it open. “Yep. And I’m reading it again, so go back to bed and leave Vexton and me alone.”
Chapter 5
“Well, well. If it isn’t Reno,” Denver said in a disgusted tone. He was stretched out on the sofa wearing only a pair of loose sweats and eating a bowl of macaroni. “Been looking for you. Must be nice to ditch your pack without a word and not feel a shred of guilt.”
Reno scratched his chin indifferently. Denver was a cool cat, but young (by at least a hundred years), so he could be a bigger prick than a cactus. Reno perked up his ears but didn’t hear any activity. They lived in a massive two-story house that had been a hotel over a century ago. Now it was the official homestead of the Weston pack.
“Where is everyone?” Reno asked.
“Bowling. It’s Shifter night at the alley and drinks are free for women.” Denver rolled his eyes. “You better have my back when I bring up laser tag, because that new place kicks ass and we’re all going. Period.”