Bad for You by Weston Parker

7

TRISTIN

Ahard-core workout like the ones I’d started every day since I’d enlisted usually helped me get my head straight. Almost as soon as I’d arrived home, I’d ordered the equipment I needed to turn the game room into a home gym.

When I eventually got around to getting a place of my own, I’d be taking this stuff with me. Lord knew it was saving my life—and probably the lives of all those who had to work with me later—by helping get all this fucking aggressive energy out.

While I thought I’d held my pose when I’d been at the school, I definitely hadn’t felt as calm as I’d tried to appear. I’d even baited the guy by calling her Brit and pretending like she still knew me, like there was some kind of inside joke he was missing.

I didn’t fucking bait people. My fist slammed into the punching bag so hard the chains rattled. But I’d definitely baited the asshole.

What the fuck is wrong with me?

Finding out Brittany was dating someone had disappointed me, but it shouldn’t have knocked me off course this hard. I was practically burning up with the need to tear someone or something a new one.

It was a good thing I no longer had access to bombs, because I might have dropped one somewhere unpopulated just to take the edge off. Although, as soon as that thought hit, I knew it wasn’t true. I wouldn’t have done that, but that didn’t mean that I wasn’t vibrating with unjustified, irrational fury.

Why am I never good enough for her? What is about me that she couldn’t live with when she can date a pompous prick like that fucking principal of hers?

All of last night, I’d tossed, turned, and then tossed some more. Archer had taken one look at my face when I’d gotten back to the office and had locked us both in. It had been a good call from him not to encourage interaction between me and anyone else.

He hadn’t asked how it had gone. The strategy he’d gone with instead was to offer me a choice between leaving and going to get blindingly day drunk, or to stay and get stuck into the real nitty-gritty. If it had been a month later, I’d have gone with going to get blind fucking drunk. It had been years since I’d done that, and it sounded like a brilliant plan, but it seemed like a bad idea when I really did need to be learning the ropes.

We’d gotten a lot more done than I’d thought we would, but it had only delayed the storm of emotions raging through me now. Since punching didn’t seem to be helping at all, I tossed my gloves down on the ground and went for a run instead.

I should’ve known all of this old shit was going to resurface at some point. What I was feeling now wasn’t only because I’d found out she was seeing someone. Sure, I was bitterly disappointed that she was and even more so that the guy she was seeing was such a dick, but this was more about all the unresolved issues in our past.

All that stuff had been shoved down so deep, I hadn’t taken any of it out in years, and now, it was all rushing to the surface. I didn’t want to relive those days, but I couldn’t help thinking back once my feet hit the pavement outside.

The rhythmic pounding of my footsteps didn’t lull me into a sense of calm like it usually did. Instead of the mindless, blissful escape I’d been after, I got catapulted into memories I’d rather not have had.

Brittany standing in front of me with her face blank, completely expressionless. Like she didn’t give a fuck that she was ripping my heart out when she told me it was over. How every reason she gave me for it had seemed like a lame excuse.

“We’re about to graduate, Tristin.” Her voice reverberated in my head. “After graduation, we’re going to start separate lives. It’s better if we just part ways now.”

Or better yet: “You didn’t really think we were going last, did you? We’re too different, Tristin.”

Even all these years later, it still felt like the Hulk had his fist wrapped around my lungs when I thought back to those words. Pushing through the feeling that I couldn’t breathe, I picked up my pace until I was sprinting down the street.

To this day, she hadn’t given me a single solid reason for her sudden change of mind. In fact, we’d hardly spoken at all after that conversation.

She hadn’t reached out to me again, and I sure as hell hadn’t reached out to her. As much as I felt like everything she’d fed me had been a bunch of lies, I’d refused to resort to begging her for the answers.

But maybe it hadn’t been a bunch of lies after all. Maybe she just really wasn’t and hadn’t been as into me as I had been—and still was—into her.

When I looked into her eyes, I still saw the future I’d conjured up for us back then. I still saw my grandmother’s ring on her finger and her walking down the aisle toward me. I still saw the house full of children we’d talked about having and the nights we should’ve spent tucking them in together.

I mean, for fuck’s sake.

On a much baser level, I’d also realized that I’d never wanted another woman the way I wanted her.

Memories of what we’d done together had kept me company through a lot of long, lonely nights. Which was fucking pathetic given that we’d started dating at sixteen. It had taken us two years of messing around before we’d finally slept together.

There had been a time when I’d taken advantage of the fact that women apparently liked men in uniform and hung out at the bars around the base just waiting for the pilots to come in. I’d seen my fair share of action, hoping that I’d forget the way it had felt to be with her, but it had never happened.

Eventually, I’d stopped trying. There had been a few women I’d dated casually, but as soon as things started getting serious, I’d ended it. Like some kind of commitment-phobic fuckboy.

The worst of it was that I hadn’t been home for much more than a week and I was already back in her trap. It was pathetic, and yet there wasn’t a thing I could do about it.

At some point, I wanted to sit her down and have a real talk with her about what had happened. Not to confront her, but to try to find out what was so fucking lacking in me when she could date a prick like that.

If I was the type, maybe I would’ve tried to get back at her by throwing myself dick first at any vagina that moved. But I wasn’t that guy. Never had been and never would be.

I just had to remind myself of what I’d come home for. American Aviation. Not Brittany or a second bite at the cherry with her.

Focusing on work was what had gotten me through our breakup, and it would get me through this sudden, absurd resurgence of fuck old feelings that had no right to be back. It wasn’t like Brittany had led me on or given me hope.

She’d told me she’d baked a cake and then agreed to speak to me in her classroom. That was it.

Perhaps my time in said classroom would’ve been better spent demanding real answers than asking her out, but whatever. I’d spent fifteen years without answers. I wasn’t going to implode if I didn’t get them right this very minute, but I would get them.

If it was the last conversation we ever had, then so be it. Obviously, I needed proper closure now that I was back. She had no reason to deny me that.

By and large, except for when she’d broken up with me, Brittany was a reasonable person with a good heart. I was sure that if we could just sit down and talk about it, she’d tell me what I needed to know.

Eventually. I also wasn’t the guy who was going to storm back into her life and demand answers from her like she was a child who had misbehaved.

Rash decisions got people hurt. It had been true in the Air Force, and it was true now. I wouldn’t let these emotions run away with me. I couldn’t afford to.

My mind needed to be focused on the company, on rebuilding a life for myself here, and on adjusting to being a civilian. All of those things would require my full attention, and having come to that realization, I felt my rage, frustration, and confusion receding.

I had a plan. That was good. Now I just had to stick to it.

When I got back to the house after a run that had ended up being about ten miles long, I saw that the nurse had put my dad on the upstairs balcony. Veering off toward him instead of heading to my room, I poured a glass of water from the jug she’d left out and drank it down.

“You’re looking better today,” I said once I’d swallowed. “You’ve got some color in your cheeks. I’m glad to see it.”

Dad smiled from the wicker chair he was sitting in, his back and legs supported by thick pillows as he reclined with an ottoman beneath his feet. The sun shone down on his gray hair, turning it a shining silver that made him seem stronger.

“I’m feeling better too,” he said. “The doctors say I’m recuperating well.”

“Great news.” I refilled the glass and motioned toward the one standing on the low table beside him. “Would you like some more?”

“Nah, I’m good. If you had a nice scotch with you, I’d have taken you up on it.” He chuckled, but the sound soon gave way to a soft sigh. “You don’t have to tell me that I can’t have scotch, and you don’t have to remind me that it’s not even eight in the morning yet.”

“I wasn’t going to do either of those things.” I sat down in the chair next to his. “Mind if I sit with you for a while?”

“Not at all. I won’t say I’m not surprised, though. You’ve been hitting the office much earlier than this every other morning.”

I shrugged. “I lost track of time while I was working out.”

“It looks like you pushed yourself quite hard,” he commented, his blue eyes sharpening as they lingered on my sweat-soaked shirt. “Is everything going okay at work?”

“Yep. Everything there is perfect,” I said.

He let out a relieved breath. “For a moment there, I thought perhaps you’d forgotten you weren’t on the base anymore. You got started down in that gym of yours hours ago. We don’t require extreme fitness at American Aviation, you know?”

I laughed when he broke into a grin. “I know. How do you know when I went down there?”

“I might be a frail old man, but I still like to know what’s going on underneath my own roof.” His grin melted away when he tipped his face toward the sun. “How are you doing? You seem to be adjusting well, but I know appearances can be deceiving.”

“It’s definitely different being back here compared to what my life has been like since I left, but I’ll get there.” The last thing I wanted was to make him feel guilty about me having had to come back.

He opened his eyes again, but there was a strange resignation in them when he looked into mine. “I’m sorry you had to leave the Air Force. I know you loved it.”

“I did, but there’s nothing to be sorry for,” I said with a note of finality in my voice. “Like I said, I’ll settle in soon enough. It’s just going to take me a minute to get my bearings, but this isn’t on you, Dad. I’ve always known what was expected of me, and I was never going to shirk my duties.”

He opened his mouth, then shut it again as he glanced toward the door. I frowned. My father had never been one to give a fuck who was listening in or whether there was someone in the vicinity if he had something to say.

“I’ve always been very proud of you, Tristin,” he said after that brief pause. “I should’ve told you that before. If it had been up to me, I wouldn’t have let them call you back. Not because of me.”

I wanted to protest, but the contemplative look on his face silenced me. He wasn’t done just yet. “I’m not sure how much they told you about what happened, but I was in a medically induced coma for a couple of days. It was necessary at the time.”

“You don’t have to do this. There’s nothing you need to explain,” I said, but he waved me off.

“No, there is.” A faraway expression came into his eyes. “Had your mother waited for me to regain consciousness, I’d have told her that I’d been working on a succession plan for the company that didn’t involve you.”

My eyes nearly bugged out of my head, but he went on undeterred. “Don’t look at me like that. I wasn’t trying to bypass you. The position was always going to be there for you if and when you wanted it, but I never intended to force you into this career path.”

He rested his head back against the pillow but turned it to face me. “Your mother was always the one who insisted that you were needed here and in the company. I’ve gone along with it for too long. The succession plan was meant to be my way of making it up to you.”

“What are you saying, Dad?” My heartbeat sped up, but only because I’d never thought I’d hear him saying any of this.

His eyes twinkled in the early morning sunlight. “I’m saying that I’m glad that you’re back, but you don’t need to be. The company might not thrive without a Ramsey at the helm, or at least that’s what people seem to think, but it will survive. It will always be here for you to come back to.”

My hands twitched. “I can go back?”

“If that’s what you want,” he said. “I’m so sorry, Tristin. All of this should’ve been ironed out ages ago, but I thought I had more time. This isn’t the middle ages. No one should be forced into a life they don’t want.”

What he was trying to do was a gift, and I knew it. Feeling closer to him than I had in a long time, I stood up and pressed a soft kiss to his forehead.

“Thank you, Dad. I appreciate it, really. But no one is forcing me into anything.” I smiled as I straightened up, suddenly feeling so much lighter than I had since I’d gotten that call. “This is where I’m needed now, and this is where I want to be. I’ve done my patriotic duty, and I’m grateful that I had the opportunity to do it, but I knew from the get-go I wouldn’t be a lifer.”

And not only because of my mother.

It was good to know that my father would’ve been okay with it if I wanted to go back, or do anything else with my life for that matter, but it didn’t change anything. American Aviation ran in my veins.

I wouldn’t turn my back on it. Even if I hadn’t been planning on taking it over right now, I was here and I was ready. But that probably meant I had to get to actually doing it.

“I’ll visit again this afternoon, okay?” I promised as I headed toward the door.

Dad gave me a serene smile when I turned to look at him over my shoulder. “Don’t worry about me, Tristin. Having you around the house and at the office is more than enough. You don’t need to babysit me as well.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” I said. “But I’ll still see you later, old man. Be good, and don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

His laughter followed me out into the hallway, and it made me smile once more. Maybe I’d come home for American Aviation, but having the chance to build a real relationship with my father wasn’t too shabby either.