by Maria Xystra
And this is bad, like really-really bad. I can’t let this become anything more. I have to focus on my decision to stay away from relationships and all the trouble that comes with them. I need to show my discomfort with the way things turned out, with every chance I get. I hope Sam gets here soon, to help get my mind off things. Things like Cole leaning on top of me and kissing me while I lie naked on that beautiful leather couch; Or like having sex with him on the pool table, and the poker table, and the kitchen island, and the stairs. And-
Oh, my God, Lex! Pull your shit together! Pull your legs together, for Christ’s sake! Maybe all this yearning comes from my sexually frustrated state since it’s been a while. Or maybe it’s because I know that I can’t have any sort of real connection with him and I know I have to suppress the feelings I’m starting to have for him. Or I could blame his bad-boy, mysterious, completely disarming magnetism that has every woman drooling all over him.
I choose all of the above. And now for the big question: what if I just give in to my lust and sleep with him? Could that help me get rid of all the tension and vexation that is fostering within me? It’s not like he didn’t suggest it. What makes him different from any other man I’ve slept with? What makes him different to my previous ‘victims’? Maybe it’s the fact that you don’t see him as one.
Thankfully, Cole breaks my reverie passing me a drink. Jeez, what was I thinking? After all, he has everything I hate in a guy. But, admittedly, it’s also everything I like about him.
Confused and highly irritated by my own thoughts, I grab the drink from him and take a big gulp.
“Easy there, Tipsy. It’s kind of early to get tipsy, isn’t it?” he teases. I fake smile over the rim of my glass and drink again.
“OK, so you really needed that,” he jokes and brings a cigarette to his lips. I grab that, too, and the lighter from his hand.
“I really need that as well.”
He stays put for a moment and I eye him sideways as I light the cigarette.
“What?” I challenge him. “You have a problem with your girlfriend smoking?”
“No not at all. You just don’t look like a person who smokes.”
“Oh! And you don’t look like a person; at all!” OK, no judging, that was the best thing I could think of.
He smiles as he lights a cigarette himself. I wanna punch him. I look away.
When his phone beeps, he informs me that Sam and Eric are here.
“Got a text?”
“I see them in the elevator. There’s a camera and an alarm letting me know who’s in there at all times.” I raise my eyebrows in admiration of the technology. As if on cue, his remark fails to surprise me. “So, if you ever wanna have sex in the elevator, we can watch it afterwards.”
I grind my cigarette on the ashtray.
“I’d rather watch it with the person I’m actually gonna have sex with,” I mock him, implying that’s not gonna be him.
I go and open the door – feeling more like home by the minute. I find Eric standing there with five boxes of extra-large pizzas in one hand and his other hand in a fist, ready to knock on the door. He looks at me and flashes a smile. Still in position, he knocks on my forehead three times, mimicking the action he was about to do. I blink as his knuckles land on my face and stay dumbstruck. He pushes me aside as if he is opening the door and walks into the apartment. Sam follows him laughing with her hand on her stomach, trying to catch a breath.
“I just knocked up Lexy!” Eric screams into the open space.
Cole hurries and punches him on the arm.
“Yeah, I’ll let you in.” And that’s when we all get that he’s on the phone. “What? No, Lexy is not pregnant, Toy! Get your ass up here!”
Oh-my-God, oh-my-God, oh-my-God!
“OH, MY GOD!” I turn to Eric. I narrow my eyes at him putting both hands on my waist, emphatically.
“Don’t worry, Lex. Toy knows I’m messing with people, he’s not gonna buy it,” he reassures me.
Cole is staring at his phone and a mixture of confusion and frustration is drawn all over his face. A tall, muscular man comes in through the open door.
“Hey y’all.” He smiles and lifts a hand to greet us. Cole reaches him in two strides and takes him by the nape.
“What did you do?” he demands.
Before I get the chance to wonder if they’re gonna start a fight, ‘Toy’ starts laughing hysterically under Cole’s lock.
“Did it work?” he can’t hide the excitement in his voice.
“What did you do?”
“So, it worked!” Eric jumps in. Sam and I stare at each other, not having a clue what they’re talking about.
“Of course, you’d be part of this!” Cole accuses Eric. He’s not mad at all, he’s just so…authoritative that both of the guys feel the need to start explaining. And it shows. Cole stands beside them, arms crossed – as usual – waiting for them to speak.
“It’s my new toy!” Toy starts. I call it ‘the block master’! It blocks the signal of any device in close proximity interrupting its transmission; video, audio, electronic and internet.” He produces his smartphone from the back pocket of his jeans. “It’s a chip I installed on my phone. I just punch in the code and it gives me access to the device of my choice, and I block it! Cool, huh?” He looks at Cole with eyes longing for approval. I kind of feel like I’m in a ‘007’ movie.
“Sweet!” Eric comments.
“I made one for you too!” he hands Cole a tiny chip.
“I like it.” Cole smiles. “Come on, man, meet Lexy.”
“Hi,” I shake his hand.
“I’m Roy.”
“But we call him ‘Toy’,” Eric informs me.
“It’s because I make my own toys.”
“No, it’s because he spends more time with his toys than with people!” Cole teases him looking at his phone again.
A couple of minutes later three guys come in.
“Yo, MC, what’s up?” one of them greets Eric first.
“MC?” I ask Sam.
“It’s Eric’s nickname,” she explains. “He’s the master of ceremonies, keeping people entertained.”
That makes sense.
The new additions to our company come towards me and seeing them all in this bodyguard figure, I feel the need to start running for help! They smile, and their faces soften at once.
“Wheels,” the really handsome dark-skinned and blue-eyed man introduces himself. “It’s Will really, but they call me Wheels.” He whispers, “I like cars” as an explanation.
I smile and offer him my name.
“And I’m Dennis,” a kind face with military style sandy hair shoves Wheels aside and offers me his hand.
“Let me guess: Dennis ‘the menace’?” I joke.
“Yeah!”
“Really? I was just joking!”
“No, really!” he flashes a big smile at me.
“Vincent,” the third one states. Very marine-style and from what I can tell, probably in his mid-forties. He sports a bald look and a serious expression, with direct eye contact – not even cracking a smile for someone he just met. His grave stance is quite imposing, not the kind you fear, the kind you respect. Or fearfully respect? I shake his hand and he disappears towards the others.
Cole comes to my side while the rest of the guys follow Eric to the bar.
“Vincent is kind of… he is…” he seems to struggle to find the words to describe him. “We call him ‘the Temper’. He’s a bit… moody, but don’t get him wrong, he’s a really nice guy. Just don’t get on his bad side.”
“I don’t intend to!” I hurry to answer. “Excuse me, have you seen…you! You and your friends? Do you think I would ever risk getting on anyone’s bad side? It’s like Nemo”, I point at myself, “meets the Hulks!” I point at the muscular men.
Cole smiles. “Green is not really my color,” he comments playfully and leaves me alone in the kitchen.
One or maybe a couple of the
m I could take. But all six of them? Doubtful. Even with my fast reflexes and the physical strength of a vampire, they’d probably manage to restrain me one way or the other. Al, my coach at college and other secret-keeper, taught me never to underestimate my opponents.
Let’s just focus on the task at hand now: getting through poker night.
By the time the last four ‘gang’ members arrive, Cole has answered a couple of ‘deal-with-it’ phone calls, Eric, Roy and the others engage into a hushed, but vivid, conversation – probably about Roy’s new toys – and Sam and I bring napkins for the pizza.
During their joined entry, and focused on the way they were coming towards me, I imagined them on the catwalk, stopping and posing as if we were in a fashion show.
“Dude! You brought the Joker?” Eric whines at Chris, ‘the Hustler’, in mocking disbelief.
“Gotta live up to the name, dude!” he defends himself casually. He has the face of an angel, dark, shoulder-length hair, and an attractive smile I’m sure he uses to get his way.
Joker is also tall, muscular and handsome. His tats match everyone else’s with the exception of an ace card on his wrist –literally up his sleeve.
Ronald ‘the Gear’, who wears smart glasses, has already set up his laptop on the bar and Ethan ‘the Shadow’, the slimmest of all – but again like twice my size – has slithered between Sam and me, engaging us in small talk.
I mentally drift away picturing all of these men working together, lost in questions concerning the type of job they’re doing and how they are linked to each other. This ‘poker night’, and the way they interact with each other and in Cole’s place, makes me assume that this is something they do pretty often. I can’t help but imagine them in a heist scenario: ‘Toy’ and the ‘Gear’ would handle all the gadgets they would need, ‘Hustler’ and Eric would definitely trick the guards, the ‘Joker’ would do something risky at which he would surely have luck on his side, ‘Wheels’ would cover transportation, ‘Shadow’ would be the one to creep in and out of the building unnoticed and Vincent and the ‘Menace’ would probably stand on watch, ready to knock out anyone who intervenes. And Cole, of course, would be the one waiting in a storage room – arms crossed over his chest – making sure the job gets done.
However, sticking to my ‘deal with the devil’, I shove these thoughts to the back of my mind and keep the matters of discussion on surface level.
CHAPTER 8
After the guys get settled into their seats at the poker table –that’s Cole, Wheels, Menace, Hustler, Joker and Shadow – and at the bar – Gear, Toy and Eric –, Sam and I take them the pizzas and hurry to leave them to it, ready to retrieve to the safety of the couch for a movie.
Barely a few feet on our way and a bit too soon for my tastes, Zack the Joker shoots the question.
“So, how did you two come to be an item?”
I glance nervously at Vincent, who is just wandering around the table and leans in to get a slice of pizza. He meets my eyes and for a minute I think he’s interested and waits for the answer, but he quickly shifts into an expression of indifference.
Cole turns his head towards me and I find myself relaxing under his reassuring gaze. He inhales sharply and as a reflex, I brace myself for what he’s going to say. Surprisingly, he sticks to the true order of events concerning our encounter. The first one that is.
“Well, basically, we met at my bar. I walked in, and saw this serious, serious, serious-” I eye him warningly, “-ly hot woman, sitting there having her lunch!” I feel a smile creeping up my lips. “I offered her a drink and-”
I cut him before he embarrasses me.
“Yeah, he waltzed in with his ‘I-own-everything look”, they all nod in understanding “and asked me what my drink was-”
“And she instantly refused me!”
Brief pause, all eyes shifting from Cole to me. And back to Cole.
“I knew from the beginning that she was something…” I shoot him a second warning glance “special”. He pins me with his eyes and I wonder if this is the time the lying game begins or if we’re still on the real part. “She was so different and refusing me, only made me want to have her that much more.”
“Yeah, dude,” Wheels starts, “we all know that the game starts when you’re chasing the one thing you can’t have.” As he states that as-a-matter-of-factly, he turns to me and offers an apologetic smile that perfectly contrasts his dark complexion.
“And we all know that a negative answer is instantly rejected by your system,” Menace adds.
They all agree to that by nodding. I feel like I’m boiling inside, and I clench my jaw. Realization hits me as I register that what they’re saying is probably true. Of course, the only reason he flirts and hints at me is because he can’t take ‘no’ for an answer.
Cole leans back in his chair and starts playing with his drink. I get ready to hear him verify the assertion that he only sees me as a challenge.
“No, man. It wasn’t like that.”
Heh?
All eyes are on him, anticipating the rest of his words.
“I mean, yeah, at first I was intrigued Lexy denied me, but this changed when she actually said it to my face – that she didn’t like me. As a person I mean. And that’s when I realized that I wanted her to see…me. I wanted to…be better. For her.”
What? Silence becomes deafening. I didn’t expect anything like that ever coming out of Cole’s mouth. And from what I get, none of the guys did either.
“I mean,” he goes on, “I was ready to accept that she wanted nothing to do with me. I could deal with that.” A snort comes from one of the guys. “No, really! But then every time we met – because she’s Sam’s best friend – I felt this…need…and it became clearer that I wanted her by my side.”
“So how did you end up together?” someone asks right beside me, making me jump. I turn to look at Shadow who surely got his nickname by the way he moves and the fact that he can be so difficult to notice if he wants to.
“I’ve actually been asking myself that very same question!” I joke. “Well, when he stopped trying to win me over with cheesy lines and suggestive comments, I got the chance to see beneath the surface. And the more I got to know him,” oh, God, Lex, don’t say it “the more I fell in love with him.” Shit.
Cole nearly chokes on his drink but I’m the only one who notices.
He purposefully avoids my gaze. And that’s good, because I don’t know what kind of expression I’d have if our eyes met at that moment. I become aware of Eric and Sam’s stares and I nervously tuck some loose strands of my hair behind my ear.
“So,” I finish off, “that’s how we came to be.” The realization of my previous statement hits me hard and I feel my ears burning. After saying ‘fell in love’ out loud, after stating it, I know for sure that I admitted it to myself. I’m falling in love with Cole. And I sure as hell shouldn’t.
“After all, he was trying so hard,” I wink at Hustler as I lean to get a slice of pizza, in an effort to lighten the mood.
“Still am.” Cole comments and stills my blood, as I feel my knees weaken in response.
“Suck it, Toy!” Eric’s voice makes us turn to his direction as they come towards us from the pool table.
“What’s with all the nicknames?” Sam says, reflecting my thoughts.
“Yeah, it’s hard to keep up,” I welcome this much needed and right-on-time change of topic.
“Cole says it reflects our personality,” Toy says.
“It’s true,” Cole starts explaining. “Eric is the MC ’cause he is always singing and rapping.”
“That’s right, motherfucker. ‘I sing and rap, and mix and…rap…and…get me a chicken wrap!”
We all chuckle.
“Well done, baby,” Sam pats him at the back. “Rap is a really difficult word to rhyme.”
“Right.” Cole continues dismissing Eric with a tight-lipped smile. “Toy invents toys, Wheels likes cars and Gear finds stu
ff we can’t even imagine exists.” He points to each of the men as he provides explanations for their nicknames. “Menace always gets in trouble, whereas Joker has the universe working for him and always gets away with pretty much everything. The one who always tricks people is Hustler.”
“What about me?” Ethan asks.
“Oh, sorry I didn’t notice you were with us,” Cole jokes. “That’s Shadow.” We all smile. “And Vince.” Everyone is quiet. I try not to laugh. It’s like they don’t know what to say because they can’t tell what his reaction would be. “He’s got temper issues,” Cole finally says and opens his hands in an apologetic gesture. Vincent the Temper doesn’t really seem to mind.
“What about you?” I ask him.
“Ha!” Eric jumps in. He exchanges glances with Toy and they both march towards Cole.
“Cole is…” Toy says, and as they stand in front of him they kneel placing one fist across their chest and over their heart and bow their heads to him.
“The Boss,” they say in unison.
Cole actually has the courtesy to appear slightly embarrassed and reaches for his smokes averting his eyes from them.
About an hour later, Sam and I are lounging on the couch, halfway through a movie.
“Everything OK?” she asks me after making sure we’re out of earshot.
I turn to her, not sure what ‘everything’ is meant to cover.
“So, was everything in the script or did you… throw some improvisations into the mix?” she teases me.
“I’m not sure what you’re referring to, Sam,” I deflect and shove a handful of popcorn in my mouth.
“The more I got to know him,” pause for effect, “the more I fell in love with him!” she quotes my words in a dramatic tone.
I meet her eyes, silently asking her to drop it.