Watching Trin by Freya Barker

Chapter 33

Trin

“Trin! Get your ass down here!”

It’s been over two weeks since Bodhi moved into his new place.

Weird how quickly I got used to sharing a bed with him after sleeping by myself most of my life. I loved the king-sized bed with Bodhi in it, but now it only makes me feel lonely.

It’s not that we haven’t seen each other, because we have. A few times he’s been here for dinner on his day off, and I’ve been to his place as well, but everything requires coordination and planning. Very little happens spontaneously and it’s a bit of a buzzkill.

Maybe it’s just because I’m bored. Tucker is at school or hanging with Ravi, Vic is working the same hours Bodhi is, and there are times the disjointed exchanges I have with Pops during my visits are the highlight of my day.

These past weeks I’ve even managed to write half a year’s worth of columns. If I keep going at this rate, I’ll be so far ahead I’ll be able to retire in a year.

But what I haven’t done is pick up the story I somehow became part of. I got a firsthand taste of what it’s like to be on the inside, when that reporter, Sean Burns, showed up on my doorstep the day after Bodhi left. He was the first of a handful, all looking for my side of events. Didn’t even know I had a side. Told them all to take a hike but that apparently left the door open for them to speculate. It left me with a sour taste in my mouth and no desire whatsoever to finish my own writing of the story.

With everything going on I’ve been a bit on edge, to put it mildly. Then this morning, Bodhi sent me a message saying he had reservations for dinner and to be ready at six, but when I texted him back he never replied to me. Hasn’t answered my calls either.

So now I’m officially pissed off and have decided I’m not going anywhere. I’m sitting in the middle of my king-sized bed, in a pair of lounge pants and an old tee, watching an old episode of House on my iPad, and ignoring my sister calling from downstairs.

It’s not a surprise when a few moments later there’s a knock on my door, right before it opens, revealing Bodhi. He leans his shoulder casually against the doorpost as he takes me in, an amused glint in his eyes. I snap mine back to the small screen in front of me.

Then I hear my sister’s voice in the hallway.

“She must be on the rag. She tends to get grumpy and she’s been in a mood all week.”

“Jesus, Vic, shut up,” I snap without looking up, because now I feel my cheeks flaming.

The worst part is, she’s not lying.

From the corner of my eye I see Bodhi move, shutting the door and closing my sister out. Then I feel the mattress dip under his weight as he sits on the edge and for some reason my eyes start burning.

“Katrina…if you don’t feel well, we can postpone.”

“How do you know that’s not what I’ve been trying to do since this morning?” I snap, feeling all kinds of unreasonable. “Or are you telling me you didn’t see my texts or hear my messages?”

I turn my head and narrow my eyes on him. From the slight wince I know he got them all.

“I did get them,” he admits before adding, “But you didn’t say anything about feeling sick.” With a jerky movement he combs his fingers through his hair.

“That’s because I’m not. I’m just…”

Hell, I don’t even know what I am. Annoyed? Unsettled? Rudderless?

Suddenly that burning is back and I can’t fight off the tears of frustration welling up in my eyes. How ironic that words are my livelihood yet I can’t find the right ones to express this jumble of emotions.

“Ah shit. This is not how it was supposed to go,” Bodhi says, his voice thick with regret as he reaches for me.

I don’t fight him when he pulls me on his lap and wraps me in his arms. It’s the first time today—maybe in days—I’ve felt even remotely like myself.

Then something he said registers.

“How what was supposed to go?” I mumble into his shirt.

I feel him inhale deeply before he lets out a slow breath.

“I could tell you, but I’d much rather show you.” Grabbing my chin, he tilts my head back. His gorgeous brown eyes just inches from mine. “Do you trust me?”

I don’t even need to think about that.

“Of course I do.”

“Then come with me.”

He lifts me off his lap and sets me on my feet next to the bed, before getting up himself. Then he takes my hand and heads for the door but I hold him back.

“Where?”

He grins and shakes his head. “I thought you said you trust me.”

“Yeah, but I’m not dressed to go out,” I explain, indicating my ratty outfit.

“It won’t matter where we’re going,” he says mysteriously.

I open my mouth to argue that point but at the slight lift of his eyebrows I snap it shut again.

Right.

Trust him.

* * *

Bodhi

“We’re going to your place?”

It’s no surprise she clues in as soon as I turn onto County Road 250. I confirm with a squeeze of her hand in mine.

I only slept a couple of hours after coming off my shift this morning, but I figured I could make up for it this weekend. I planned it so Trin could stay with me. Vic managed to pack a bag without Trin noticing, which is stuffed in the back, and Tuck made his own arrangements to hang out with Ravi at the Arrow’s Edge compound until Sunday.

It’ll just be the two of us at the house for the weekend.

“Oh, look at that. When did you put those in?” she asks when we pull off the road toward the house. “It’s so pretty.”

She’s referring to the lights I installed along the edge of the driveway. Winter will hit soon and I wanted to make sure we’d at least be able to see where we’re going when we pull in here.

It’s just one of the small changes I’ve been working on over the past week or so. Most of the others have been inside, I can only hope she likes those as well.

Since dusk comes early in the mountains, I left all the lights on when I went to pick her up. The place looks inviting when I pull up to the garage. I round the truck to help her out. She looks cute, still in her lounge pants but with her feet shoved into a pair of lined boots and wearing a puffy winter jacket. It’s getting cold fast, and before we know it the white stuff will be here to stay.

I lead her to the front door where I installed a numeric lock.

“Two-seven-three-one.”

She tilts her head and looks up at me.

“It’s the code,” I explain. “Same numbers for the panel to open the garage doors. Try it.”

“Okay.”

She sees the table I set before leaving the house the moment she steps inside.

“It looks amazing,” she says, glancing at me over her shoulder. “I didn’t realize you meant we were eating here.”

That was intentional, because she would’ve insisted on getting herself here in the rental she still drives, and I didn’t want to chance her taking off. Which she may want to do when she sees what I’ve done.

“All I have to do is turn on the oven to heat it.”

I walk past her and strike a match to the logs I stacked in the fireplace, leaving her to wander through the space. It’s starting to look like a home now that most of the furniture has arrived.

I watch her as she walks around, finding some of the new touches since the last time she was here. The oversized club chair with ottoman and the new standing lamp, making for a quiet reading space. The new larger TV mounted on the wall in the living area. The barstools by the kitchen island that weren’t here before. And finally, the large dining table and chairs my mother helped me pick out.

“It’s massive,” Trin observes, running her fingers over the smooth tabletop.

It’s big, long enough to seat ten—twelve if you squeeze two at each end—and meant to hold big family dinners.

“Let me turn the oven on before I show you the rest.”

I take the chicken enchilada casserole I prepped this afternoon out of the fridge and pop it in the oven to heat. Next, I grab Trin’s hand and lead her into the hallway to the left of the kitchen.

There are two bedrooms and a bathroom on this side of the house. I put my old couch and desk in the bigger of the two bedrooms, and installed the much smaller TV I had in my apartment. The smaller room I set up with my old queen bed, the dresser, and I installed a new light fixture on a dimmer.

“Pretty fancy setup for guests,” Trin comments.

I don’t bother correcting her. Not yet.

“Wait until you see the other side.”

Together we cross the living space to the master suite. The bedroom itself is not a huge surprise since she helped me pick out the new bed frame and dresser, but she hasn’t seen the finished loft space above.

It takes her a few moments to take in the little touches I put up there to make the space her own. A picture of her and her sister as little girls, with both parents smiling on. One of Trin holding Tuck when he was just a baby. Anika helped me get those printed on canvass. There are a few mementos Vic supplied that Trin had sent her from wherever she traveled. Tucker picked his mom out a simple glass desk in front of the large window, and I chose the vintage Kilim rug underneath.

“I don’t know what to say,” she whispers standing in front of the pictures on the wall.

I walk up behind her and slide my arms around her waist.

“Tucker is fifteen and will need a bit of space of his own, which is why I set up the other bedroom as lounge space,” I tell her. “And you need a place to work. Somewhere you can retreat to.”

She doesn’t say anything but crosses her arms over mine at her middle as she leans back into me.

“I’m not pressuring you to move in today, but I wanted to give you a chance to see what that might look like in reality. Spend a weekend from time to time. See if you can see yourself living here at some point. You and Tucker.”

It’s killing me I can’t see her face when she suddenly turns in my arms.

“You went behind my back.”

I search her face for signs of anger but there are none.

“That’s generally what needs to happen for a surprise to be successful, but yes, I did. My parents, my sister, your sister, and Tucker: everyone who loves you was involved.”

She nods, sniffling a little.

“How did you know?” she asks.

“Know what?”

“That I’ve missed you so much it’s been driving me crazy.” She adds quickly, “And don’t tell me we’ve seen each other because you know it’s just not the same.”

I grin down on her.

“Because I missed you too, Beautiful. I like coming home to you.”

“I’m lucky,” she shares. “You’re a good man.”

“And?” I prompt her. “Say it.”

The shrill sound of the smoke alarm interrupts the moment and I hustle down the stairs and into the kitchen where smoke is leaking from the oven.

Fuck.

I ease open the door and find the casserole intact, thankfully, but the dirty liner I’d meant to replace at the bottom of the oven caught fire. I pull dinner out and set it on a cutting board, then I grab a box of baking soda out of the cupboard, rip the top off and pour it on the flames.

“Hmm.” I turn to find Trin laughing at me. “I’m sorry but it’s funny. It’s like the saying; doctor heal thyself. Except for firefighters.”

“Katrina…” I threaten, sending her a glare while I open the back door to get rid of the smoke.

She looks happy and relaxed. Color on her cheeks and light in her eyes as she laughs heartily at my expense.

“And I love you, Bodhi Jones.”