“Your upset about something, I’d be an ass if I tried to use this moment as my way in.”
This was way too impossible to be true. But the more we talked, the more approachable the world seemed. Once the conversation died down, Marcus pulled a penny out of his pocket and placed it at the center of my palm.
“Penny for your wishes?” he asked, the words whirling me right back into one of the best memories I had as a child. Marcus, his sister and me, sitting on the rundown tire swing in the park a block from my house. We’d flip a penny and whisper a wish. Heads said our wish would come true. Tails said it wouldn’t. A few times it worked. I’d wish it wouldn’t rain the next day and sunshine would grace the skies from morning until night.
I’d wish momma baked up a chocolate cake for dessert and whatyaknow? The smell of her heaven sent culinary skills would be the first thing to greet me when I swung open the door. The moments our stupid game played out in our favor made it seem like there was some substance to it. Now, however, I knew that it was all a farce. Even then, I flipped the coin and wished for things that I thought the universe was capable of managing.
“Ben and Jerry’s peanut butter cup ice-cream.”
“That’s a good one,” Marcus said, but didn’t move to pick up the coin.
I pushed it over to him and he shook his head. “You get all the wishes today, buttercup.”
“Peanut butter cup,” I corrected and we both laughed like the silly school kids we once were.
The coin between my fingers once again, I wished they’d replace the roses in the kitchen with lilies. I wished my charger would start powering up my phone at rapid speed once again. Stupid things. But again, things the universe could handle.
Marcus and I wrapped up the game and I thanked him wholeheartedly for just being there when I needed a shoulder to lean on.
“I spent some of the best moments of my childhood trying to be your rock,” he whispered. He was standing by the door now, one arm rested against the frame, the other tucked into his pocket.
“You’re such a cheeseball,” I laughed and playfully punched at his chest. It hurt. A lot more than a small punch was supposed to.
“A solid cheeseball,” he countered. He wasn’t wrong.
“I guess that’s how it has to be if you’re planning on being my rock, huh?”
Marcus nodded at that, then pursed his lips which I knew meant that he was going to break his promise about not to pry his way into spaces I didn’t want him to investigate.
“So here’s the thing,” he started and I held up a finger in an attempt to render him silent. He wasn’t having it, however, and pushed my finger back down. “If Maddox has something to say, listen. You’re more torn up than a shredded receipt and I know you…you don’t get over things unless you get down to the nitty gritty of them. Ignoring him won’t fix what he’s broken or help you to move on.”
“It worked with you.”
“Real smooth, Cornelia.”
I shrugged. “Just telling it like it is.”
Marcus spun around, and slowly walked away from me. I’d thought that was the end of that, until I heard his voice ring out in the silence. “Telling it like it is would be admitting that you’re still not over me.”
I slammed the door shut and pressed my back against the cool surface. He wasn’t fully wrong. Him, sitting on my rug, walking me down memory lane, it was going to mess with my head for the rest of the day. I already knew it.
But first things first. I needed to figure out where Maddox and I stood.
Chapter Nine
During my conversation with Marcus, he asked me two questions regarding Maddox.
Did Maddox’s motivation really matter if it meant that we were together?
Would I deny myself love out of pride and fear?
I didn’t know how to fix all the things that had gone so wrong, but I knew that it was time for me to have a conversation with Maddox.
I knocked on his bedroom door, anxious to get inside before the crew woke up, but there was no response. I tried again and nothing. My hand was lifting for a third attempt when Phee’s voice stopped me.
“Don’t bother. He’s not here.”
Looking at her, all I could do was blink in surprise.
Phee wavered where she stood, holding the Smirnoff light aloft as if it were a decanter of 100 proof.
“It’s part of the Baggage Reveal,” she continued without needing prompting. “You didn’t stick around to hear all the rules, but the boys have been moved to another house for the rest of the week to give us all time to ‘think about what we’ve learned and decide if we want to move forward.’”
“What does that mean?” I asked quietly.
“What do you think?” Phee snapped.
She was wearing sweatpants. It was a stupid thing to focus on considering all she’d just told me, but I couldn’t tear my gaze away from the ratty gray material. It was such an alien sight on Phee that it made me uncomfortable. The sweats would have been shocking enough except the oversized t-shirt she was currently shoving against her nose clearly hadn’t been designed with her delicate frame in mind. Her dark eyes were red rimmed, and her skin looked splotchy. I reached for her by instinct, surprised by the strange sense of Deja-vu as she walked into my embrace.
“This sucks.”
How drunk was she? She must have started early to be this…open. Regular Phee was always as cool as a cucumber. I couldn’t imagine the woman I’d grown to know being so upfront about her feelings without copious amounts of liquor. Which, to be fair, is exactly what she smelled like.
I sighed shakily. It wouldn’t be good if we both started crying. I’d done more than my share last night.
“How much have you had to drink?” Phee ground her face against my shoulder and hiccupped pitifully.
“Not enough.”
“Well, let’s remedy that.”
With one last mournful glance at Maddox’s door, I followed Phee back downstairs. As we moved through the house, I realized that the crew had been cut in half. There weren’t as many people watching as we poured drinks and took up posts on the living room floor in front of the flat screen.
“So, are we turning this into a drinking game or what?”
“Wouldn’t be fair.” Phee swayed where she before the coffee table. “Hm’already drunk.” She listed forward, and her head collided with a dull thunk on the wooden surface. I was an asshole. The past few days had been rough for me, but I wasn’t the only one juggling a bombshell.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
Phee shook her head without lifting it, thought for a moment, then straightened in a surge of sudden emotion.
“He’s a goddamn liar.” She pointed an accusing finger at me, but it wilted almost immediately. “But so am I. So, I guess we’re meant for one another.”
It hurt my heart to see her this way, and helpless I took a drink. Maybe if I got to the same level of drunk I could commiserate properly. As it was, I just felt awkward; unsure if I wanted to hug her or hold her hair back. Phee couldn’t stand the silence for long and eventually she rolled her shoulders and curled up beneath the table.
“Petey’s always been worried about the age difference,” she began. “He thinks I could do better. That I’m wasting my life with a guy old enough to be my dad. Ha!” The table shook briefly, and I curled up on my side so that I could look at her from beneath its canopy. Her eyes were closed but she was scowling even in her misery. “First of all… I love being with someone as mature as I am. Second of all… he’s great in bed. Third of all…” She blew out a breath. “Third of all he’s been single for so long because he’s an ex con.”
“Holy shit.” I breathed. I never would have thought Pete had it in him. “For what?”
Her eyes cracked open.
“Robbing a bank.” She snorted. “Banks. His wife cheated on him and he and a few buddies got together and flipped an armored truck. He’s been in jail for the last fifteen years
. He never thought he’d be able to have a normal relationship after being away for so long and he was ready to settle down so…” She shrugged and I shook my head, still reeling.
“That’s…kind of hot.”
Phee laughed and one eye peeked open.
“I know,” she admitted. “I should be pissed. And I am. But mostly I’m just super turned on.”
We giggled but a moment later, she sobered.
“By comparison, mine shouldn’t seem so bad.”
“What did you keep from him?” I queried, sure that she was just being overdramatic. What the hell could top a bank robbery? To my alarm, her eyes filled with tears once more.
“My daughter,” she groaned. “I have a seventeen-year-old kid and he never…even…kn-knew.” Phee buried her face in her arms and I realized that I was making that grit teeth, stretched mouth, equivalent of ‘damn girl’.
“How old are you?” It was the only thing I could think to say.
Phee looked as if she were only a few years my senior so I was shocked when she admitted with a grimace, “Thirty-seven.”
“Oh.” I upended my wine cooler, enjoying the blackberry on my tongue. “Not such a drastic age gap then.”
Phee stared at me for a long, empty, moment before she began to laugh.
“I never thought of you as an optimist.” She giggled, sitting up only long enough to take another sip of her drink. “It’s better than being such a Debbie Downer all the fucking time.”
There was a twinge of hurt that I ignored. I didn’t like it, but I deserved it.
“Was I really that bad?”
Phee groaned, flipping over onto her back and throwing a forearm across her eyes.
“You were the absolute worst. For future reference, Cornelia, if someone compliments you just say ‘thank you’.”
Propping my elbows on the table I frowned.
“What have I been doing?”
Phee’s head swayed from side to side and her voice pitched high in what I could only assume was a poor imitation of yours truly.
“ ‘Oh you like my hair? I don’t take very good care of it, so I have a bunch of split ends’ ‘What was that? You think my bathing suit looks good on me? It shows way too much skin, so I don’t like wearing it in public’” She reverted back to her normal pitch. “Blah, blah, blah. Look, I get it. You’re insecure and you probably have a little social anxiety. Who doesn’t? These days anyone over sixteen pops Xanax like M&M’s. Whatever. No judgment.” She paused in her rambling to sit up and glare at me. “The trick is to fake it until you make it.”
I shook my head. “It’s not that easy.”
“Sure it is.” Phee pulled herself clumsily to her feet. “All you have to do is think back to a time in your life when you felt good. Amazing. Then pretend like you’re in that moment again whenever you feel nervous.”
“I don’t-”
“-You like to dance,” she interrupted. Since it wasn’t a question, she didn’t bother awaiting a response. “Get up.” Phee urged. Heart hammering and blood sizzling with 2% alcohol content, I obliged. “Now close your eyes and imagine you’re alone, in your room, and listening to your favorite song.” Phee closed her eyes, all too willing to demonstrate. In an instant she was transformed. Her back straightened and her smile shifted, grew coy and confident. The cameraman who had been filming at a discreet distance smiled slightly and I didn’t blame him. Phee went from sad lush to vixen in less than the blink of an eye. She rolled her shoulders and started to move her hips to a song only she could hear. It should have been awkward, but with Phee it was a lesson in grace and sinuous physicality. I longed to move with her, to dance to a song meant only for the two of us, but I hesitated.
Clearly sensing my thoughts, Phee peeked at me from beneath her lashes. With a roll of her eyes, she started to hum softly to give me a foundation to build myself on top of. I glanced at the watching crew and one of the light technicians shrugged and lifted her brows in challenge.
Fuck it.
I took Phee’s outstretched hand and she pulled me into a slow spiral that transitioned into something faster, wilder, until we were practically waltzing through the living room with only her breathless rendition of some unknown song to accompany us. I don’t know how long we stumbled and twirled together but by the time I collapsed laughing onto the couch I was breathless and flushed. Phee went to her knees beside me, smiling drunkenly and resting her chin on her arms on the edge of the couch beside me.
“See? Told you it was easy. From now on, if someone says something kind to you just believe them. Start giving people the benefit of the doubt.” She sighed heavily, growing still. “Shit, what could it hurt? Your value isn’t based on anyone’s opinion anyway so if they want to call you a dog or crawl on the ground and kiss your feet, it doesn’t make any difference.” Phee looked up at me and there was no trace all of a sudden of the free-spirited drunk that had just swept me off my feet. “The world is never as good or as awful as we think it is. We aren’t mind readers or psychics, Cornelia. Most of the time we have to take what someone says at face value until they show us who they are or give us a reason to doubt them.”
I drew my legs up on the couch, folding them beneath me. Just to give myself something to do with all the nervous energy within me.
“I thought I was supposed to be making you feel better?” Though I said it teasingly, a large part of me was extremely serious.
“Just thinking aloud Lei,” She looked out through the double doors so she missed the widening of my eyes at the sound of the nickname Maddox had given me. “Sometimes working through someone else’s shit helps me unpack my own.”
“You sound like you already have everything figured out.” My voice cracked but she didn’t comment. I’d been trying not to think about what she’d meant earlier about the decision we would need to make, but I couldn’t avoid it forever. Eventually Maddox would be brought back home and then I’d have to decide if what we had was worth fighting for or if his lie was too large to overlook. And most importantly, I’d have to decide whether or not I was going to truly and honestly believe that he came into this for an inheritance, but wanted to come out with me as his forever.
“I don’t,” Phee interrupted blithely. “But I know which way I’m leaning.” She met my eyes. “Do you?”
“No.” I turned to look out the double doors into the courtyard. If I looked hard enough, I could just make out the blue of the swimming pool. “I have no idea what I’m going to do.”
“What’s the hang-up? Not that Marcus dude?”
I shook my head, but that wasn’t convincing enough for her. I saw it in the way she raised her eyebrow and knew for a fact when she voiced her concerns. “What’s the deal with him, anyway?”
I shrugged.
“Lei?”
Again, my eyes widened at the nickname. And again, she missed it.
“We were friends when we were kids. For only a short moment. Then he broke my heart and stole my first kiss.”
“In that order?”
“In that order,” I said. If I shrugged anymore, she’d probably think I was close to a seizure.
“Why do I get the feeling you’re more inclined to forgive him than you are Maddox?”
“That isn’t the case,” I said and a part of me felt like it was true. Plus, Marcus hurt me when we were stupid little kids. Maddox was old enough and wise enough to know exactly what he was doing.
“Then what is the case? We all saw him leaving your room.”
I felt like a little kid who got caught with both hands in the cookie jar. To everyone on the outside looking in, it must have seemed like a heck of a lot more than it was. After all, Marcus had been in my room for some time, door closed, bolt locked. Me, heartbroken. Him, a blast from the past – or so they thought. Guessing at what they were thinking made me feel like I was close to hyperventilating.
“His sister died,” I said as though that was some kind of reason for anything. She raised a brow
at me and pursed her lips. “Marcus and Sara, were my first real friends.” My first real enemies too, I thought, but didn’t say out loud. “Something happened that made them turn against me. I don’t know what it was. Marcus was about to tell me before he left that first time and…”
“So that’s why he was in your room?”
“No,” I admitted, this time not able to look at Phee eye to eye. “We never got around to talking about that.”
Phee dropped her hands to her hips and said my name in a tone that only a mother knew how to use. “You need to figure out what exactly it is that you want, Cornelia. It’s not fair to Maddox if - “
“Not fair to Maddox,” I laughed. Though she did have a point. My mind had wandered ever since Marcus showed up again. And who could blame me? He was sweet and he was caring and the way he looked at me…
With Marcus I knew that if he was interested, it was because he was really interested. He didn’t have a trust fund to win. The show wasn’t paying him to be here. And if we ended up together, the prize money wouldn’t go to either of us. All he’d get out of this whole ordeal was me. That’s not to say that that’s what I wanted. But we had a history. He stole my first kiss and with good reason. When he reminded me of it, I could almost feel him on my lips with the same intensity that I’d felt all those years ago.
“Maddox fucked up,” I said, turning to face Phee. “And there’s no telling whether or not he was just keeping me around so he could dig into his daddy’s money or if he really and truly gave a damn about me.”
“You think he’s that good of an actor?”
I nodded. “Yeah, I kinda do.”
“Have you slept with him?”
The question came seemingly out of the left field, but I knew better than to think Phee asked it without purpose. “Yeah.”
“How many times.”
“I don’t know.”
“So a lot?”
“Maybe not a lot, but definitely enough.”
“How long did he take to get it up? Or did he stick it in you when he was soft as a marshmallow?”
Morally Imperfect: A Bully Romance (The Bully Project Book 2) Page 8