Hazel St. James - Fighting For You (Redemption#1)[ by Hazel St James Page A
Authors: Hazel St James
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coat.
“It’s pretty cold out there for that coat, don’t ya think? If you need a warmer one, I know I have a collection in the closet behind you.”
He did too. Those were just some of the things that he’d left here the last time this was his short term residence. Tristan didn’t place much value on material things and didn’t want to move anything more than necessary, so he usually left a collection of shit behind no matter where he was. It just so happened that Morgan never did rent the place out again, and his stuff was still there.
“Aww, that’s so sweet, Tristan, but I’m okay.” Peyton walked back to him and held out her hand, “Can I have your phone to enter my number? I work all night tonight and then I’ll sleep until noon or so tomorrow. Then I’ll head to the gym for an hour. If you do decide that you want to come with me, I’ll bring us lunch, then we can work out before we go get you some groceries. Sound like a plan?”
Tristan just smiled and pulled his phone out of his back jeans pocket and handed it over to her. She was standing toe to toe with him, but was still a good half foot shorter than his five foot ten inch frame. Peyton typed on his screen for a bit and then handed the phone back to him.
“Good deal. You just let me know what you decide, all right? I’m not going to push you one way or the other, but your body seems like you’ve spent some time in the gym, and it would be a shame to throw all that away. But, I would never get in your face about something you honestly didn’t want to do, unless it was like taking your meds, or something serious like that.”
“Let me check a few things out in the morning, and I will let you know what I want to do, Peyton. Okay?”
“Sure,” she replied with a cute little wriggle to her nose. She opened the door and was just about blown over with a wind gust that came in. Peyton shivered before she tightly pulled her coat around her, and Tristan bounded over to the door as quickly as he could and closed it. He pulled her back into the hallway and without a word opened the closet door and pulled out one of his ski coats from inside.
Peyton started to say something, but Tristan cut her off with a low growl. She narrowed her eyes for a second and then just gave in and turned around while he helped her into the warmer coat. “I’ll bring it back tomorrow. Thank you, Tristan.”
Peyton smiled a mile wide, and Tristan could see the tiny piercing in her lip when they were standing this close in the light. He gave her a smile right back and cuffed her chin playfully, “You’re very welcome, Miss Independent. It doesn’t hurt to ask for help every once in a while.”
“Back at ya,” she teased. “See ya tomorrow.”
Chapter Eight
T ristan had good days and bad days in the last month since he’d come home, but more often than not he would call the majority of his days, bad . Most of the time his brain was completely on board with his desire of doing absolutely nothing but wallowing in grief. His days were numbered, and he felt like the rest of his life was doomed to disorder and chaos. That wasn’t what he was told at the psychiatric center, but honestly, that was what he took away from his time . There wasn’t a cure for being bi-polar, but they’d told him that it was completely manageable; only when he learned how to live with it.
He wasn’t stupid and had asked the nurses at the center for all the information he could have on the different medications he was taking. His first shrink prescribed a medication that really knocked him out, so he faked that it was giving him a rash and they switched him to another one. This one wasn’t as bad as the first, but it was still a depressant to his system and he found he could easily sleep most of the day. He was content to let life pass him by and wallow in self-pity.
Up until now, Tristan didn’t have the energy to care about his hygiene, let alone mentally getting better. But, he
“It’s pretty cold out there for that coat, don’t ya think? If you need a warmer one, I know I have a collection in the closet behind you.”
He did too. Those were just some of the things that he’d left here the last time this was his short term residence. Tristan didn’t place much value on material things and didn’t want to move anything more than necessary, so he usually left a collection of shit behind no matter where he was. It just so happened that Morgan never did rent the place out again, and his stuff was still there.
“Aww, that’s so sweet, Tristan, but I’m okay.” Peyton walked back to him and held out her hand, “Can I have your phone to enter my number? I work all night tonight and then I’ll sleep until noon or so tomorrow. Then I’ll head to the gym for an hour. If you do decide that you want to come with me, I’ll bring us lunch, then we can work out before we go get you some groceries. Sound like a plan?”
Tristan just smiled and pulled his phone out of his back jeans pocket and handed it over to her. She was standing toe to toe with him, but was still a good half foot shorter than his five foot ten inch frame. Peyton typed on his screen for a bit and then handed the phone back to him.
“Good deal. You just let me know what you decide, all right? I’m not going to push you one way or the other, but your body seems like you’ve spent some time in the gym, and it would be a shame to throw all that away. But, I would never get in your face about something you honestly didn’t want to do, unless it was like taking your meds, or something serious like that.”
“Let me check a few things out in the morning, and I will let you know what I want to do, Peyton. Okay?”
“Sure,” she replied with a cute little wriggle to her nose. She opened the door and was just about blown over with a wind gust that came in. Peyton shivered before she tightly pulled her coat around her, and Tristan bounded over to the door as quickly as he could and closed it. He pulled her back into the hallway and without a word opened the closet door and pulled out one of his ski coats from inside.
Peyton started to say something, but Tristan cut her off with a low growl. She narrowed her eyes for a second and then just gave in and turned around while he helped her into the warmer coat. “I’ll bring it back tomorrow. Thank you, Tristan.”
Peyton smiled a mile wide, and Tristan could see the tiny piercing in her lip when they were standing this close in the light. He gave her a smile right back and cuffed her chin playfully, “You’re very welcome, Miss Independent. It doesn’t hurt to ask for help every once in a while.”
“Back at ya,” she teased. “See ya tomorrow.”
Chapter Eight
T ristan had good days and bad days in the last month since he’d come home, but more often than not he would call the majority of his days, bad . Most of the time his brain was completely on board with his desire of doing absolutely nothing but wallowing in grief. His days were numbered, and he felt like the rest of his life was doomed to disorder and chaos. That wasn’t what he was told at the psychiatric center, but honestly, that was what he took away from his time . There wasn’t a cure for being bi-polar, but they’d told him that it was completely manageable; only when he learned how to live with it.
He wasn’t stupid and had asked the nurses at the center for all the information he could have on the different medications he was taking. His first shrink prescribed a medication that really knocked him out, so he faked that it was giving him a rash and they switched him to another one. This one wasn’t as bad as the first, but it was still a depressant to his system and he found he could easily sleep most of the day. He was content to let life pass him by and wallow in self-pity.
Up until now, Tristan didn’t have the energy to care about his hygiene, let alone mentally getting better. But, he
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