“Did you know that Ashley...”
Of their own accord, Titus's ears drowned out the rest of what Cassidy was saying, not really paying any attention to one of his most laid back exes. It was the main reason why he had liked her so much those few years back. After they had gotten tired of each other – which, when he looked back at it was less than three weeks – Cass had been cool about it. There hadn't been any crying, pouting, or anger; only an acceptance that had come in those dark, dark brown eyes.
But he let her tell him another story anyway, just because he knew what Anna would think. Even though she would never admit it, she got jealous whenever he talked with an old 'friend'. Sometimes, it was as if she didn't even know what it was she was feeling and just settled on doing the stupidest and most immature thing that she could possibly come up with.
Like doing what she was now – chatting with Kurt Winstrom. It wasn't that he had never really liked the guy, that Kurt was just plain weird, or that Anna was practically throwing herself at the skinny, weak man in front of her. But it was that he knew what she was trying to do. She was trying to do the same thing he'd set out to do ever since their little encounter with Isaiah Mat.
A ranch hand from Munston's, Isaiah Mat was a good man. He even helped out at the Circle T when Titus couldn't be there on very rare occasions. Shorter than him but taller than most, Isaiah Mat was a hard worker who he appreciated on most days, but today wasn't one of those days – especially when the man threw a look towards his wife. His pregnant wife.
It didn't matter that the man had been in the class below him or that he had a reputation of just being all-around nice and honest; Titus would not stand for any other man getting closer to Anna than he was – not without acting out just the tiniest bit. Not without telling Anna in a not so discreet manner that he would not stand for shit like this.
Still in the stage of acting out, he started up the conversation once again, asking Cass the things that got her mouth going until every word was coming at a rapid fired pace. He added in the appropriate words and filled in just the right blanks to let anybody who was listening know that he and Cass were just friendly acquaintances and nothing more.
He looked towards Anna, trying not to notice how she and Kurt looked like they should be the two who should be married and he should still be the isolated, lonely rancher that he usually was. He almost laughed at her terrible attempt at flirting. Always stumbling over herself and stopping mid-sentence when she was nervous, Anna had never been a flirt. But by the way Kurt was actually falling halfway for a married woman, Anna must be doing an okay job.
Okay was not okay.
“It was nice seein' ya again, Cass.” He stood up and smiled a fake smile that made his teeth feel like they were rotting. “I'll see ya 'round.”
“See ya,” she said before going back to cleaning already polished tables.
Gritting his teeth against the sick feeling that invaded his stomach, Titus tried to keep his cool, trying to be the gentleman he had been with Cass. But Anna, she brought out the worst in him at times.Those extremely, extremely rare when times when she did stupid shit like talking with Kurt Winstrom just to piss him off.
“Anna, honey,” he cooed in a voice that belied what he was feeling. “Let's go home.”
She didn't even look at him,only leaning into Kurt's skinny body. “Nah, Kurt and I still gotta catch up. Right, Kurt?”
The blonde-haired man gulped, blanching when Titus scowled at him. “Uh...I actually g-gotta go. B-bye, Anna,” he stuttered before grabbing his bomber jacket and literally sprinting out of The Frontier.
This time, she did look at him, but there was only fire in her eyes.
He pulled on the hair at the back of his skull, barely able to grasp the extremely short strands. “Don't start, Anna.”
“Don't start what?” she snapped, pushing at him.
He felt a few stares going into his back and remembered where they were. This wasn't how newlyweds who were expecting a child acted. “Let's go.” Taking her arm, Titus had to drag her outside, the heels of her sandals leaving marks on the tiled floor.
She clawed at his arm, trying to wrench her hand free. ““You've been ignoring me the entire night, always having to talk with one of your friends, and now you want to spend time with me?!”
“At least I don't hit on every guy that I meet on the sidewalk!”
“What?” she sputtered, eyes going wide. “You think I-”
“No, Anna,” he ground out, remembering the look and much too long look that had happened between her and Isaiah. “I don't think. I know.” He lowered his voice and all but pressed his mouth to her ear. “I thought you'd at least wait until the baby's all grown up to start throwing yourself at single men.”
Anna recoiled as if he had just slapped her in the face. “Well, you sure picked one helluva time to quit your decade long abstinence streak. Cass is a little too good for ya though. Don't get your hopes up,” she whispered with vehemence.
He snapped. His temper boiled over, sending the cover of its metaphorical pot flying through the roof and into the air, but he managed to keep his head and ground out, “We are leaving. Now.”
A few people's gazes locked on them, making him slowly lose even more of the control he had worked so hard on maintaining. God, how he wanted her. How he wanted every inch of that rebellious mouth and that flushed face that held an expression telling him exactly what would happen if he went up against a very hormonal and very pregnant woman.
Titus did the only thing he could. He picked Anna up, slung her over his shoulders, waved to the growing crowd of spectators, and walked straight down the sidewalk in easy, everyday steps. She squealed and thrashed in his arms, but he just kept walking, taking her weight with ease.
If they were in any town or city other than Napolm, cops would be called and that would be that. But this was Napolm, a place where a man like himself could do whatever he pleased whenever and with whoever he wanted to.
“C'mon, honey buns. Let's get you home. Don't you wanna go home?” he cooed in a voice that was acidic with its sweetness. “That'd be fun, right? All the fun we have together! All three of us!”
“You are completely overreacting!” she screamed, even going so far as to reach for old Miss Clancy's wrinkly hand for help.
“Oh, I'm overreacting?”
“Did I stutter?” she snapped.
“Because I'm the one who can't go more than a few months without latching my painted nails into another man.” He scowled at the thought, knowing how Anna could get when she was restless.
“That is not-”
“Prove me wrong, Anna. Tell me that you weren't just hitting on Kurt, and I'll put you down.”
She answered with her struggling. Her fists beat at his back, hitting right where it hurt the most, but he didn't mind. Her knees smacked into his chest, but he didn't mind. But what he did mind was that those fists and those knees had been within mere centimeters of Kurt Winthrom and Isaiah Mat's bodies.
“Put me down!” she shouted.
“Nope.”
“Yes!”
“No.”
She answered with a kick. A kick straight to his very sensitive groin area that was semi-aroused. All he could do was drop to the ground in a dry gasp of pain as pure agony rippled through his body. Hands cupping himself, he managed to pull his suffering body to a hard brick wall and lean against its hard surface. The stars wouldn't leave his vision, pain doing the same to his body.
“Oh, my God...” he mewled into his arm, tears almost streaking down his face.
Anna's sorry gaze met his, and almost was not his friend. Almost was too close when he was around her. Almost letting her see that he was some weakling who couldn't handle his own was something that would ruin what he had been working on for almost a decade now.
He stood up, walking bow legged to where she was muttering apology after apology. “We are going home. I'm going to ice my broken balls. And you're going straight to bed.”
“Titus, I-”
“Not another word, Anna.”
They somehow managed to make it to the truck without any more bodily harm. Anna turned the radio off. He turned it right back on, tuning the dial until he landed on what was Trace's favorite metal station and blasted it. With every mile that passed, his head began to hurt, the music much too loud. But he kept it there.
“You can yell at me if you want,” she mumbled as soon as they were inside the house.
“Nope.”
“Seriously, Titus.” She sounded upset now. “Just yell at me, for Christ's sake!”
Titus kept his back turned to her, looking outside the patio doors at the calm night. The outside was nothing like how he felt. Inside, he was dying with the realization that she might never love him as more than just a friend. He wanted to scream – needed to, but this was Anna. She might make him see red on more than one occasion, but he never screamed.
“No.”
She was silent after that and just went to the kitchen where he heard her take the pitcher from the fridge and pour a glass of water into the new glasses they had gotten as a wedding present from his parents. Thick cylinders, the glasses were dark blue and solid, always clunking against the wood whenever he or Anna put one of the glasses down.
They were nice glasses; so were the plates. The crock pots, afghan blankets, wine trays, pie sets, salt and pepper shakers, coffee bags, scrapbooks, and the giant picture of them on their wedding day that was hanging over the fake fireplace was all nice; but he didn't feel nice.
He felt tired, and he hurt. It didn't matter that he got done with work and was greeted with Anna everyday or that she played the part of being a wife. She didn't love him after all these years, and with every day that passed, Titus was beginning to believe she never would.
She gave whatever she had to strangers in that naïve wave of hers, but when it came to him, she was a locked up box with a broken key. But he was beginning to realize that he was like that too, always showing Anna his best self and not the man that was underneath his perfect shell, because he knew that she would hate the angry man inside.
He'd given her a little taste of that tonight, and it'd gotten him here. Here on the thick mat right at the front door. That thick mat was nowhere, and he wasn't making any progress. Even after living in the same house with her for over a month, he still hadn't gotten any closer to his goal. Times like now just kept weakening him with the fact that Anna might never feel the same.
“I'm going out,” he said, waiting her to ask him where just to show that she cared just the tiniest bit.
She didn't ask.
He left, closing the door a little more roughly than usual. It hurt to know that this could have been avoided. He had been immature because he hadn't gotten what he wanted. If he kept things going like how they were now, he'd never get what he wanted; but it was a change of pace, and something told him that maybe – just maybe – a change of pace was maybe just what Anna needed to get that final, little push.