Vince: Book Two of the Perfectly Independent Series

by Amanda Shelley

  Ahhh… fuck… I can see how she could think that… but damn… that’s not the case. How do I explain this—and not come off more like an ass?

  Of course, I don’t get a word in because she’s obviously been bottling up her emotions, and her pent-up anger is about to spew like a volcano. Her cheeks darken, and her green eyes turn to slits as she scowls in my direction.

  “I can handle myself. I don’t need you,” she continues to poke the air with her finger. If we were one step closer, I’m sure she’d be poking my chest. “…Or anyone else swooping in to save the day. There are four fucking bouncers who could’ve stepped in if necessary. But no—you jump out of bed and rush down here to do what? Drink Coke at the bar all night? How the hell are you going to be up at the ass crack of dawn to be ready for your test if you’re stalking my ass all night?”

  “Well… I wouldn’t say stalking,” I manage to get in, but it lands on deaf ears, and apparently, it was a rhetorical question.

  Great.

  “I don’t need a knight in shining armor.”

  “Good—because from what I hear, that’s heavy shit to walk around in,” I say, attempting to defuse the situation, and I swear I see her lips quirk but remain locked in the scowl directed at me.

  She’s more than capable of handling herself. “I…” I start, but reality bitch slaps me as I fully take in her perception of how things went down. She’s wrong… but… shit… she has a point.

  Maybe I am a bit of a Neanderthal.

  Her eyes narrow perceptively as she must be able to see my freaking epiphany and surprisingly, she doesn’t say anything, but her face clearly says, this had better be good.

  “Okay…” I draw out, buying myself some time.

  Out of nowhere, I hear my mom’s favorite truths loud and clear. Honest simplicity will go much further than lengthy explanations.

  “First, I’m fully aware that you’re more than capable of handling yourself. But if you were in my shoes, would you be able to sleep after our brief text exchange? I’m not one to sit idly by and stew on things when I can confront the situation head on.”

  “But still…” A bit of steam releases as her rigid posture droops.

  “Seriously, Syd. What did you expect me to do? Toss and turn all night wondering if you’re okay, when I know it will be after closing before you can respond? I don’t think so.”

  “You still didn’t have to stay all night.” She juts out her chin in my direction as one fist punches her hip, holding firm to her beliefs that I’ve overreacted, I’m sure.

  I run a finger down my nose as I work through my words carefully. “Uh… If I remember correctly, you’re the one to tell me to take a seat—that you’d deal with me later.”

  She opens her mouth to say something, then shuts it.

  I have her here… she can’t argue about me staying all night, and she knows it.

  Instead of letting her stew for long, or come up with another excuse for why she’s mad at me, I forge ahead with my point. “I will never sit by when the people I care about are in need.”

  Sydney sucks in a deep breath and releases it slowly as she looks to her watch. “Look… it’s late. Even though you clearly overreacted, I do appreciate your reasons. I…” She looks to the sky as she releases another deep breath. “I… I guess I can see your logic. But so we’re clear… if I need your help. I’ll ask for it. You don’t need to come barging down here like a bat out of hell otherwise.”

  “Duly noted… but so we’re clear, if I think you’re ever in danger… all bets are off.”

  “Total Neanderthal…” she mutters more to herself than me as she rolls her eyes to the sky.

  The thought of her truly being upset with me is unsettling at best, so I ask for reassurance, “Are we good?”

  Slowly, her eyes rise to meet mine, but her expression is unreadable.

  I’m not sure when her answer became so crucial, but in this moment, it feels like the most important thing in the world. My breath hitches as I wait for her to fully assess me. Her eyes slowly close, leaving me any window of opportunity to decipher her mood.

  Slowly, she nods, and my breathing returns to normal.

  “We’re good.” She nods in agreement, and relief washes through me.

  I close the distance between us in an instant. My hand lands on her hip, and I pull her to me. Reading my intentions, her head naturally tilts to the side as my lips slant over hers.

  When I press my lips to hers, I feel the tension I’d been holding onto slip away. Her body melts into mine as she runs her fingers through my hair. God, this woman can kiss. Knowing that she’s no longer upset adds fuel to my fire, but I force myself to remember we’re in public. In all too short of time, I break the kiss and simply pull her in for a hug.

  “I’m sorry I upset you,” I whisper as I kiss the top of her head. Even after working all night, she still smells like vanilla and spice and hints of her apple shampoo.

  “I’m sorry I worried you,” comes out as muffled words against my chest.

  She squeezes me tight before pulling back to look me in the eye. “You have an early morning. You didn’t need to come down here.”

  I will always be here if I think she’s in need. Though instead of arguing this point, I deflect, “I’m not the one spending the day with a three-year-old,” I remind her. “I’m used to her energy, you’re not. Let’s get you home so we can both get some sleep.”

  Sighing heavily, she releases her arms on me completely and turns to cross the street. “I suppose you’re right,” she practically pouts, and I can’t help but smile at how adorable she is. Clearly, she doesn’t want our time together to end, and that thought alone makes my heart soar.

  Reaching for her hand, I lead her across the street to her car. “I’ll follow you home and make sure you get inside okay, since it’s on the way. Then I’ll see you bright and early in the morning.”

  She unlocks her door and turns to face me. “You don’t have to do that.”

  “I know,” I admit. “But I’m going to all the same.”

  Her beautiful lips spread wide as a giggle escapes. “I’m beginning to see that.” She reaches up on her toes to close the distance between us. She kisses me quickly then whispers, “Thank you, Vince.”

  “Anytime, Syd. Anytime.” I squeeze her in a hug once more then turn to open her door. “If you’re lucky, she’ll nap tomorrow. Though those are rare. But if you take her for a bike ride and wear her out, you just may get some rest yourself tomorrow afternoon.”

  “I’ve survived on less sleep. I’m sure I can handle Julia tomorrow. You don’t have to worry.”

  “I’m sure you can handle anything, Syd,” I say as I kiss her chastely once more before shutting the door. “Now let’s get you home.” I shut the door and jog over to my Jeep, so she won’t have to wait for me.

  It takes us no time to get to her apartment as the streets are empty. I patiently wait for her to park and walk up the stairs. She waves and blows me a kiss as she turns to go into her apartment. Her playfulness makes me laugh aloud. Damn. I love how full of life she is. Even though I clearly upset her, I’m still glad I got to spend this stolen time with her.

  21

  Sydney

  “Wait up, Julia!” I holler as she rounds the corner on the bike path at the park. I decided I’d go for a run and kill two birds with one stone before heading back to Vince’s house for lunch. But the girl is faster than I realized. I kick it into high gear and catch up within a matter of seconds.

  Julia’s giggle can be heard as soon as she spots me. “I’m right here, Sydney. I won’t go too far. Grownups worry a lot. I was riding like a rocket and couldn’t slow down.”

  “You sure are fast. Are you sure you don’t have a superpower I’m not aware of?” I tease as she starts riding again.

  “Nope… it’s just me. I can go fast.”

  Julia’s freaking adorable as those eyes that remind me so much of Vince twinkle in delight. We conti
nue along the path as she chatters about how she’s so much faster without training wheels. But that doesn’t hold her attention long because she suddenly talks about where she and Vince usually ride when he runs.

  Knowing the path she’s talking about, I let her take the lead, and we chat about everything a three-year-old can imagine along the way. Sometimes, I have to stop running because she has me bent over in stitches as she explains the world through her eyes. One thing is certain through all of this—the Larson family is easy to like.

  When we get back to their house, it’s time for lunch. Julia asks for a grilled cheese sandwich and tomato soup. As I make it for her, I’m reminded of my time with Grams.

  “You know, Jules, when I was your age, my grandma used to make this for me all the time. It was my favorite,” I say as I let her stir the soup on the stove. She insists her mom and Vince let her do it, and since I’m right here with her, and the handle is long, I allow it. God, how do parents let their kids do things like this? It makes me nervous as hell just thinking of all the possibilities of how they can get hurt.

  “Really?” she beams. “It’s mine, too. Do you see her?”

  “Grandma?” Well, I didn’t expect this. How do you talk about death to a three-year-old? I go with the truth. “Unfortunately, no. She passed away right before I came to college.” God, I hope she understands that much. I don’t want to have to explain much further.

  To my utter shock, she nods in understanding and matter-of-factly states, “So did mine.”

  Really? She must be mistaken. Vince hasn’t said anything about his mother dying. Hmmmm… maybe she doesn’t understand what I was saying after all. But God, what if that’s the reason he was looking for a place to think when he first arrived at CRU? Even though my mom and I’ve never been close, I can’t imagine losing her so early in life.

  Julia says something, but I don’t quite hear it, and I’m pulled back to reality.

  Shit. What did she say?

  “… Is the sandwich ready?”

  This isn’t a conversation we should be having, so I quickly flip the grilled cheese sandwich I have frying in another pan onto a plate for her. Eager to change the subject, I ask, “So, which way do you like your sandwiches cut—in the middle or diagonal?” I motion with my fingers to show her what I mean, and she smiles eagerly.

  “Momma cuts them diagonal,” she beams. “We need spoons.”

  As we sit at the table to eat, Julia wrinkles her nose.

  “What is it?” I ask while mentally listing off the things I could have forgotten.

  “Your shirt is all sweaty like Unks when he runs. You forgot to shower.”

  Looking down, I see sweat stains around my collar and under my armpits. I sniff and thankfully, my deodorant hasn’t expired… but she’s right. I do need a shower. “I’ll get one later.” I shrug, not knowing how I’ll get a shower in and babysit her at the same time.

  “You can shower, and I watch a show?” she states, but it comes out more like a question.

  “What do your mom and Vince do?”

  She rolls her eyes as if I just asked the stupidest question on the planet. “Uh…if they stink, they shower. I watch my show on Unks’ bed, and I promise not to leave the room when he’s in the tub.”

  I can do that. I brought a change of clothes… and a shower sounds much better.

  “What’s your favorite show?” I ask as she takes a big bite of her sandwich, then turn to grab the soup I’d set on the counter.

  With her mouth full of food, she answers anyway, “The Descendants. I want purple hair like Mal when I grow up.” When she finishes chewing, she adds, “Will you watch it with me?”

  “Well, let’s hurry up and eat so we can.”

  She may not get a nap in, but I’m sure after the ride we took, she could use the rest.

  Of course, a three-year-old knows how to work the TV better than I do—which I find completely comical. She gets the show started and settles into Vince’s bed with ease. Then in an almost mom-like voice, she says, “Go take your shower. You’re starting to get smelly.”

  “Gee, thanks,” I grumble. I’ll never have to guess what’s on Julia’s mind, that’s for sure.

  As I walk into Vince’s bathroom, it smells of him. On instinct, I take in a deep breath and revel in the scent as it pulls me into my favorite memories of being close to him. Knowing I don’t have a lot of time, I don’t let myself dwell on those delicious thoughts but get to work on the business at hand.

  Though as I step into his large walk-in shower and begin to wash, I find myself lifting the lid of his shampoo and body wash to figure out which one he smells like most.

  Damn, they both smell good, but my favorite is definitely his body wash.

  Lathering my hair with his shampoo, I quickly go through a shower routine.

  I’m not gonna lie.

  I totally fantasize about sharing this shower with him—but I can’t let myself linger on those thoughts because Julia’s waiting on the other side of the door. After getting out and toweling off, I realize I brought my other bra but didn’t bring any clean underwear.

  Shit.

  There’s no way in hell I’m putting dirty underwear back on, so I guess I’m going commando under my black leggings. I can’t say I’ve ever done this before, but I’m sure it won’t kill me. Besides—who’s gonna know?

  Grabbing my brush from my bag, I enter Vince’s bedroom and am relieved to see Julia’s relaxed and completely consumed with her show.

  When she finally does notice me, she pats the bed beside her. “Wanna watch with me?” Her pleading expression makes it difficult to resist.

  “Sure. Hand me that pillow, Jules. There’s no way I’m letting you hog them all.”

  She takes the top pillow from under the two she’s been lounging on and hands it over. Propping myself up against his wooden headboard, I slouch into the pillow to make myself more comfortable.

  Damn. Even his pillow smells like him.

  “Lie down like me, Syd,” Julia encourages, and I happily oblige as I take in a deep breath. His bed is huge—a California king. It’s the perfect combination of firm and cozy. It feels like I’m floating on a cloud.

  Julia yawns as she settles into her pillow further. Maybe if we lie here long enough, she’ll take that nap Vince teased about.

  “You want a blanket?” I ask, barely above a whisper.

  “Naw… I’ll just crawl in the covers.” Within seconds, she’s pushed the down comforter past her hips and squirms her way under the blankets. “You getting in, too?” she asks in a sleepy voice.

  Should I? Will it make her fall asleep faster?

  “I think I’ll just stay here,” I say as I roll on my side and adjust my position to see the television clearly. “I’m pretty cozy.”

  “Unks’ bed is the best. It’s so big.”

  “Yeah, it is,” I agree as I take another deep breath.

  “This is my faborite part!” she squeals. It’s absolutely adorable how she can’t pronounce her v’s in favorite. “You gotta see this.”

  We watch the movie in silence. The characters dance in the street to a catchy tune in the musical. I can see why she likes it. The song is powerful, and the choreography is addictive to watch. Even I’m sucked in.

  When the song ends, I notice Julia’s breathing is long and steady. Her eyes droop and if I’m not mistaken, she’s about to conk out at any moment. My heart melts when she reaches out to hold my hand.

  As she loses her fight with sleep, I stay as still as possible, so I won’t wake her. Before I know it, her eyes are completely shut, and I think she’s asleep. I attempt to untangle our fingers, but when her eyes jolt open, I think better of it. Instead, I close my eyes and pretend I’m falling asleep, too. I feel her body relax further, and her breaths get deeper with each intake.

  Eventually, she lets go of my hand and rolls away from me, sound asleep.

  Not wanting to risk the chance of waking her, I let myself g
et lost in the movie. Eventually, I must succumb to the comforts of Vince’s bed, because I, too, lose the battle with my heavy eyelids and drift to sleep.

  The next thing I know, I hear Vince’s deep, sexy voice in a dream. But when I pop my eyes open, all I see is his beautiful face staring back at me.

  22

  Vince

  I’m dragging ass today. I have no freaking clue how Sydney works these hours and still functions throughout the day. Thank fuck, I studied as well as I did; the exam in my first class is handled with ease. The rest of my day slugs on, and I can’t wait until I can see Sydney again.

  For the most part, I know Julia’s pretty easy to handle, but I hope she’s on her best behavior for Sydney. Like any three-year-old, she’s unpredictable at times, but if Sydney can handle drunk frat boys, I’m sure she can handle Jules.

  When my last class finally ends, I rush home. The thought of seeing Sydney has my drowsiness disappearing. I drove to campus today so I could get home quicker. I’m sure she would’ve texted if there was a problem, but still… I worry.

  When I enter through the garage door, the house is unusually quiet. I call out, but there’s no answer. From the living room, I can hear the sound of a television faintly from my bedroom. Knowing that’s Julia’s favorite place to watch a movie, I smile as I shorten the distance between us.

  Wondering if Julia’s sleeping, I peek around the corner.

  My heart melts when I see not only Julia is fast asleep, but Sydney as well. Julia’s done one of her sleep-ninja moves. She’s lying with her feet intertwined with Sydney as one arm flops over Syd’s belly. I almost feel sorry for Syd; sleeping with Julia’s like sleeping next to a category-three hurricane. The covers are tossed over Sydney, so if I had to guess, I’d say she started with no covers on her. Otherwise, they’d likely be pooled on the floor.

  Syd’s long, red hair sprawls out behind her across my pillow.