He takes a seat in my office, his boys flanking him on either side.
“Kalum, I don’t think you understand. I was askin’, but I wasn’t really askin’. We’re going to need another night. So make it happen.”
I’m going to say yes. I have to. But I need some time. I need to figure out how I’m going to play this.
“What’s in it for me?”
Big Al raises an eyebrow, not expecting that to come out of my mouth. Before, it was the blackmail. The fact that he and his guys have old dirt on Maverick was enough to get me to open up my shop to their shit. Apparently, he thought it was enough to not give anything else in return.
But now they want more, which means so do I.
“You want a cut?”
I shake my head. “No. No money. I want the flash drive and any copies you have.”
Also known as the last incriminating evidence of a 12-year-old crime my brother was involved in.
“Now, I can’t give you that,” Big Al shakes his head and stands up, putting his hands on my desk, leaning over and trying to intimidate me. Probably to many others, he would be intimidating, but all I see when I look at him is the kid who cried when he lost the class gerbil. “But I can give you a promise.”
“What’s that?”
“We’ll stay away from your new place. The one I heard Mav is going to be running.”
I never even thought that they would try to get in with him. It might not be what I wanted, but it will have to do. For now.
“Let me look over the garage schedule and see which other night would work best. We have a deal, but only on the day I pick. You hear me?”
Big Al grins, flashing a few gold teeth as he backs away from my desk.
“We good, Kalum. We good.”
Big Al might think we’re good, but I feel the opposite of good. I feel like shit. Like I’m back in the life I tried so hard to get out of.
Then I see a text from Maverick on my phone, and with one flash of his name, everything is back in perspective.
This is for him. So he won’t have to suffer again because of me.
17
Tori
Comfy PJs: Check.
Takeout: En route.
Wine: Poured.
“Golden Girls” queued up on the television: Ready.
A perfect night if I do say so myself.
Do I wish Kalum had taken me up on my offer? Of course. You don’t say, “Nah, I’m good,” on the best sex of your life with the hottest man you’ll ever have in your bed.
But I knew it was a long shot. Thursday seems to be the night he stays away, and since we aren’t an actual couple, it’s not my place to ask. The only way this thing will work is with boundaries. Lines that are clearly marked as “just sex.”
So, if it’s just going to be me tonight, then why not indulge in a binge marathon of the best sitcom of all time?
I wonder what Blanche would do if she were in a room with Kalum. She’d have a damn heart attack, that’s what.
On cue, my buzzer sounds and I’ve never been happier for food delivery in my life. I haven’t eaten all day. The coffee shop was busier than normal for a Thursday, and I didn’t have the chance to eat breakfast because some hot guy with a man bun decided that I was his breakfast.
I can’t even be mad at that last one.
I don’t even ask who it is, and just buzz up my Grubhub delivery man—the need for breadsticks and pasta overtaking my need for safety. Needless to say, I’m shocked when I open my door, and holding the delivery is my hot guy with the man bun, with a shit-eating grin plastered on his beautiful face.
“Is this your side hustle and why you can never see me on Thursdays?” I say with a smirk, not caring that I have on pajamas, no makeup, and my hair is a hot mess. Thank God I didn’t put on the face mask.
He steps inside before answering, and if I read him right, my comment made him slightly flinch, but it was so subtle I could have read it wrong. But thoughts of that are gone as he pulls me into his arms and places a kiss on my forehead.
“Let’s just say that your delivery man might request your address more often after the tip I gave him to let me bring this to you.”
“So, do I owe you anything? I mean, you are my delivery guy. A tip is appropriate.”
“I could make some sort of smart-ass remark about me giving you a tip, but I’ll be a gentleman. How about a kiss and we’ll call it even?”
I don’t hesitate. I reach up, wrap my arms around his neck, and place my lips on his.
I know we aren’t dating. Or in a relationship. Or hell, in an anything that anyone knows about. But when Kalum is in this mood, flirty and sweet, I can’t help but get those stupid butterflies in my stomach.
Ones I haven’t had in a very long time. Maybe ever.
Kalum breaks our kiss but doesn’t let go of me. Our foreheads are touching, and in all the nights we’ve spent together, this right here might be the most intimate moment of all.
“Can I ask you a question?” he asks.
“Of course.”
“How much food did you order? Because I was about ready to bust down your door to see who was in here with you. Do you also have an arrangement with a football team that I need to know about?”
I look into his eyes and I swear I see a fire behind them that I don’t see often. Is that . . .
“Why, Kalum West, is that jealousy I hear in your voice?”
“Don’t deflect, Tori. I need to know if the girl I’m sleeping with can eat her weight in pasta or if you’re hiding the Chicago Bears in here somewhere.”
I sigh, knowing that my question probably hit him in a place that neither of us is ready to talk about.
“I ordered a lot. But, in my defense, I just figured I’d order enough to have for lunch tomorrow. But since you surprised me and delivered it, and started my morning with an orgasm, I guess I can share some with you. That is, if you want some?”
A devilish grin appears on his face and I’m suddenly ready to abandon dinner.
“That would be great. I haven’t eaten today, which was the real reason behind my interrogation. What’s with the little note on the bag?”
“I haven’t eaten in a while either. Go grab a seat and I’ll get you a drink.”
“You didn’t answer my question about the card,” he says as I walk toward the kitchen.
“Oh, it’s kind of my weekly ritual to order from Luigi’s and watch ‘Golden Girls.’ Mr. Luigi knows and always sends a funny little note with my order.”
Kalum has been at my place on a regular basis over the past few weeks. He’s slept in my bed, fucked me on my couch, and taken showers here, with and without me. But somehow, him putting out our dinner while I go grab him a beer is the most domestic and, well, normal thing we’ve done since this began in Wisconsin.
I’m not going to think about what this means. Or if our dynamic is changing. It’s not a crime for two adults—two adults who happen to see each other naked most nights—to share a meal together.
Nope. Lines are not blurring. Still very clear-cut.
“What in the world were you about to start watching?” Kalum asks, the remote pointed at the TV.
“‘Golden Girls.’ Also known as the best comedy of all time.”
He stares at me like he’s trying to figure out if I’m serious or not. He should know by now that I don’t pull punches about anything. Especially my love for Dorothy, Rose, Blanche, and Sophia.
“Isn’t that an old show about old ladies?”
My gasp is loud, and at that moment, I’m seriously considering ending this friends-with-benefits understanding.
“Yes, it is. And it’s amazing. Don’t knock it until you try it.”
“If you say so.”
I study him and then it hits me.
“Have you never seen an episode of ‘Golden Girls’?”
He shakes his head. “No. We didn’t have cable growing up, and honestly, I don’t even watch that much TV now.�
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I grab the remote from his hand and hit play.
“Well, sir, grab yourself some food and sit back. Because you’re about to find out why the note on the bag said thank you for being a friend.”
“Wow. Dorothy is savage as fuck!”
I turn to look at Kalum, who might have protested when we began our binge session but has been paying pretty close attention this whole time.
So yes, the butterflies in my stomach haven’t gone away since he showed up two hours ago with delicious food and a sexy smile.
It also doesn’t help that when Kalum decided to lie down on the couch, his head somehow ended up in my lap, which might be the sweetest thing ever.
Here’s this big, strong, protective man, who is so brooding and serious, and sometimes an outright asshole, but right now is letting his guard down. Even if he doesn’t realize it.
“She is. She’s kind of awesome,” I agree.
“Kind of? She’s amazing. She’s my favorite character. Hands down. Dorothy for the win. Who’s yours?”
I play with his hair, loving how it feels between my fingers.
“Blanche. I just always related to her.”
“I could make a joke about being a bit man-crazy, but that’s low-hanging fruit,” he says, sitting up next to me.
“Yes, that’s what most people would think. But I don’t know, there’s just something about her that I relate to. Like me, sometimes she reacts before she really thinks about it. But then, when she has time to think about all sides, she’ll admit when she’s wrong, or stand up for herself when she thinks she’s right. She’s fierce and strong and I love that about her.”
“Just like you,” Kalum says before leaning in for a quick kiss.
“Can I ask you a question?” It’s been on my mind all night, and if I don’t ask now, I’m afraid I’ll lose my nerve.
“Sure.”
“Why did you come over tonight? Not that I mind. But . . . usually on Thursdays . . . well, I’m just curious why tonight was different, but you can totally tell me to mind my own business.”
Before he answers, he brings me into his arms so I’m sitting across his lap. He holds me tight while my head rests on his shoulder. My hands go around his middle, and I’m loving the feel of how close we are.
“I just needed to not be alone tonight.”
“But why didn’t you go to Maverick’s? I know it’s late, but I’m sure he wouldn’t have minded.”
He doesn’t answer right away, and I honestly don’t expect him to. I don’t know what possessed me to even ask.
“Because when I’m with you, I don’t think about the noise around me. Or about my past. I’m just . . . here. Me. Having dinner with a beautiful woman who makes me forget about all the shit in my life.”
Damn. Those butterflies aren’t going away anytime soon. And those lines are becoming a little less clear.
We don’t say another word for the rest of the night. We don’t have even have sex, which is a first for us. Hell, we don’t move from the couch, finding comfort in each other’s arms.
And it’s the best I’ve slept in maybe my entire life.
18
Kalum
I will never lie to a person and tell them I’m a good guy. I’m a thief. Pulled a few cons in my life. Beat up a few guys because they deserved it, and also because I felt like it. I’ve been granted things I don’t deserve that I’m not going to turn away.
But I’ve always tried to be a good son. So, when my mom calls and says she needs Maverick and me to come over to help with some things around her house, we drop what we’re doing and go.
I’ve always said she’s the only woman who will ever have me whipped.
But as the days and nights go by, I wonder how true that statement is. Because I’m pretty sure Tori Brennan could call me right now and ask me for just about anything, and I’d move hell and earth to do it for her.
When I went over the other night after leaving the garage, I was pissed and angry about Big Al’s demands, but I couldn’t go to the gym. It was almost closing time, and I wasn’t about to tell Jaxson why he should keep it open: so I could hit the shit out of a bag for an hour. I definitely couldn’t talk to Maverick for obvious reasons. So I drove around until I somehow ended up at Tori’s place.
Even just being outside her building calmed me down. That and the fact that I sat there for almost a half-hour getting myself under control after making yet another uncomfortable phone call. Then I saw the delivery guy with a massive bag that said BRENNAN on it, and I knew what I had to do. And as soon as she opened her door, without a drop of makeup on and wearing the most beautiful smile I’ve ever seen, I felt at peace for the first time in months.
And I’m not letting myself think about the fact that we fell asleep in each other’s arms on her couch—sex the furthest thing from my mind that night. Nope. Not going to touch that nugget of information with a 10-foot pole.
Maverick comes down the steps of his building, looking a little worse for wear. My little brother isn’t one to party until all hours of the night, so his state has me a bit curious.
“Good morning, sunshine. Don’t you look beautiful in the early morning light?”
“Fuck off,” he retorts, looking down and seeing the extra cup of coffee I have waiting for him in the truck. “Unless this is mine, in which case: hello, big brother. You are a God amongst us mortal men.”
I chuckle as he takes a gulp of coffee I’m sure burned the shit out of his mouth, but he doesn’t seem to care. I start the car and we head to my mom’s.
“What has you looking like you went on a three-day bender?”
Maverick rolls his neck like he’s the one who’s been sleeping on Tori’s uncomfortable couch and cramped bed.
“I’m pretty sure I’m going to have to move soon. The upstairs neighbors like to let their kids jump around, and I’m pretty sure they’re also bowling above me. And it starts at about six each morning and ends at about 11 each night. I haven’t gotten a good night’s sleep in weeks.”
“Why don’t you talk to your super about it?”
“And what? Be the asshole who complains because kids play? I’m not that guy. Plus, I’ve been wanting to buy a place for a while anyway. This might be the push I need to get my ass in gear about it.”
The fact that Maverick can even talk about buying a house is amazing to me and reaffirms why I’m doing what I’m doing.
The only reason he went to prison was because of me. I got involved with The South Side Crew, another gang that used to run around our parts. A stupid decision I regret every day of my life. For as much as I told myself I’d never end up getting into illegal shit, knocking on prison’s door every day, there I was, risking it every day for a few extra bucks that The South Side Crew gave me to do their dirty work.
I justified it by saying we needed the money. My mom worked two jobs our entire lives, even when my dad was still alive. I wanted to help her, help Maverick, and boosting cars was the best way I knew how to make some easy money.
Then Maverick found out what I was doing. And instead of trying to talk me out of it, he wanted in. And he didn’t just want in—he was way ahead of other car thieves and had figured out how to hack into keyless entry and remote start systems without a trace of where and how.
Maverick’s methods made us a ton of money. They also probably helped land us in jail. And it’s the reason I’m doing what I am now.
“Did Mom say what she needed?” I ask my brother, who is still holding on to his coffee like I gave him the most precious gemstone in the world.
“Something about the garage leaking, but I’m not sure,” he pauses, and I think we’re done talking until he surprises me. “So, you bought me coffee today . . .”
I look over at him, wondering where this conversation is about to go. “Yeah? Can’t a guy buy his brother a cup of coffee?”
“You bought it from Tori’s coffee shop.”
“Yeah. Is there a problem wi
th that? Am I not allowed to patronize the business that one of our friends runs?”
He looks at me like he’s trying to figure out a puzzle.
“You absolutely can. You just never have. In fact, you used to give Jaxson shit on a daily basis because he went to that coffee house for, and I quote, ‘Overpriced Maxwell House shit that you could make at home.’ So, I’m curious, what has you now buying not just one, but two cups of coffee from Perks?”
Fuck. I did say that shit.
The real reason I have two cups of Perks coffee? Because I dropped Tori off before coming to get Maverick and I needed some caffeine. We were up pretty late last night as I was becoming more familiar with parts of her body I felt I needed to be better acquainted with.
But I obviously can’t tell Maverick that. And I also need to make sure I’m not smirking right now thinking about the amazing way Tori woke me up this morning.
“Well, if you must know, I’ve been feeling a little tired myself lately, and I had to run by the gym to drop off something for Jaxson, and since I was in the neighborhood, I decided to stop in for a cup of coffee. While I was waiting in line, I said to myself, ‘You know what? I bet my brother would like one too.’ But, if you’re going to continue with the 20 questions, I can take it right ba—”
“You’ll have to pry this coffee from my cold, dead hands.”
A few more miles go past us as we head out to the suburbs to our mom’s place. Once we knew that the garage was going to be a success, our first major purchase was getting our mom a home away from the South Side. It was the least we could do for her given what she’s done for us over the years. And what she’s put up with.
“You seem to be in a better mood today.”
I look at my brother, wondering where that comment came from.
“Compared to?” I ask.
“Compared to the past few months. You’ve always been a dick, but man, you were making me begin to stop claiming you. But the last few weeks you’ve seemed . . . I don’t know . . . better? So I was just curious if whatever had you acting like such an asshole was done with?”
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