Wood (A True Lover's Story #2) - A.E. Via Page 0,13
his cold hands. He wondered if his best friend was truly doing this to him. Bishop was struggling to split his time between school, the love of his life, his dad, his new business, and his best friend. And Trent was positive Bishop’s vertical alignment fell in that order. Mike and Bishop were never around anymore, and they must be feeling guilty for leaving Trent out. Now it seemed as if he was being pawned off onto someone else. Someone who he looked to have nothing in common with and probably didn’t want to be bothered with him in the first place. But beggars couldn’t be choosers, and Wood needed a place to stay. So that meant playing nice with the leftovers.
Trent brought his fist to his mouth when he felt like striking the dashboard. Lashing out wouldn’t make him feel better, so he struggled to push away the disappointment. Everyone was starting to do their own thing, and it was time he did too. He didn’t have any family he could hang out with anymore, and he’d lost his girlfriend a long time ago because he couldn’t be honest with himself. But he’d be damned if he’d accept some pity friendship. If it meant he had to be alone, then so be it. He’d been down this road before.
Trent backed out of the driveway and went to work.
Chapter Six
Wood
Wood was dressed in a pair of dark, olive-green pants and a black, button-up collared shirt he’d got at the Goodwill. He checked himself in the bathroom mirror after he finished finger-combing his hair off his face. When he was done, he made sure to wipe up his mess since it appeared Trent liked to keep things neat. Wood glanced at his prepaid cell phone and wondered how much longer it’d be before the little prick got home.
He was sitting in the armchair in the corner next to the dining room window, sketching in his pad, when the front door opened. He wasn’t sure why his pulse sped up for a brief second or came plummeting down when Bishop rushed inside instead of Trent.
Bishop closed the door quickly behind him. “It’s colder than a well digger’s ass out there.”
“Had a lot of those, have you?” Wood grinned.
“What are you doing by the window?” Bishop frowned.
“I’m stargazing. What’s it look like I’m doing.”
Bishop smiled, coming over to join him. “I’ve sure missed your wry sense of humor, Wood.”
“Drawing in here is easier because this room has the brightest light.” Wood pointed at the fixture above him. “This window gets good natural light in the daytime.”
“If you want another lamp, then get one,” Bishop said, then immediately switched directions. “What’d you think of Trent?”
Wood glared up at Bishop. His friend at least had the audacity to look guilty. Wood got up and tossed his sketch pad in the chair as he stood face-to-face with Bishop. “Why the hell didn’t you warn me?”
“Because I know you don’t like it when guys try to push your buttons. And that’s definitely Trent’s MO.” Bishop gave him a pleading expression. “Come on, Wood, he’s not that bad. He only pokes and jabs at people he likes. He’ll grow on you.”
“Mmhmm. Like mold,” Wood grumbled.
Bishop smiled bright and warm at him, knowing Wood always gave in when he did. He stepped back and observed his ex-cellmate. Damn, Bishop looked good. He was dressed in a nice outfit that he was sure didn’t come from the thrift store like his own. Bishop’s body had always been impressive, but since he’d been out, Wood knew he’d been working his ass off getting his landscaping business off the ground. The manual labor looked to be paying off. Although— “What’s up with the gut? Your abs were like bricks last time I saw you. Now you got a pudge, man.”
Bishop laughed loudly and patted his mostly flat stomach. “Shit, man, that’s Eddie. I told him he’s feeding me too much.”
“Hmmm,” Wood hummed, shaking his head at the lovesick expression on his friend’s face. “It’s the way to a man’s heart, right?”
“Sure as hell is.” Bishop smirked. “Speaking of food. Come on, let’s get to the oceanfront. I’ve been thinking about a seafood dinner all day.”
“Sounds good. Let me get my coat.” Wood picked up his pad and took it to his bedroom, and Bishop followed behind him.
“So how’d it go last night?”
Wood blew out a long breath of exhaustion. “Wasn’t exactly a When Harry Met Sally moment.”