by A. Marie
“Did you tell Amity I called you?”
Joe struggles to hide his surprise. “She shouldn’t have said anything. She’s on borrowed time here as it is, but I wanted to talk to you about that anyway.” I lift my chin, waiting. “You can’t call me at my house. I have a family that’s separate from work life and I’d like to keep it that way.”
“You know I didn’t call you though.”
“Text. Same thing. The point is you can’t hound me while I’m with my family.”
“I texted you once, Joe, after you called me.”
“Talking about gifts and wanting to see me.” He raises his eyebrows.
What the hell? “No, that’s not how it went down.” At. All.
“Do you think my wife read it like that?” He waits and my stomach tightens. Joe’s right, my words taken out of context don’t sound so innocent even if they were.
“Maybe I should have a chat with the boss instead. I’m sure I have much more interesting topics to discuss than t-shirts.”
Joe crosses his arms over his chest. “And what proof do you have?”
I scramble to name something, but come up blank. Joe was careful to never leave his number, and the one time he did, I deleted it and his message before he could even say ‘bye’. I could try citing the time he grabbed me when I stayed late to wash windows but I’m not even sure the cameras in the bay run after closing time.
At my fallen expression, Joe’s face splits into a knowing smile. “That’s what I thought. Don’t rock the boat and you won’t have anything to worry about. I left something in your locker by the way.” He nods behind me, before leaving me there to wonder what the hell just happened. No, seriously, what was that?
Joe just threatened me but gave me a gift, too? Talk about a double-edged sword. Neither is suitable for workplace behavior and I have the book on business ethics to prove it.
My hands shake as I grab a fresh set of towels, grateful I’ve at least regained movement of my body that was temporarily paralyzed. I have to quit. There’s no other choice at this point. Joe’s pushed too far and my back is against the wall with nowhere else to go. Securing another job before I push back, or fold, is my main goal now. I’m so close to starting that class Robert lined up that I can’t jeopardize the opportunity by not having the income to pay my part.
I vow to stop by Coty’s after work to job hunt some more, then move to dry the Cadillac rolling off the conveyor belt.
One thing’s for sure, whatever’s awaiting me in my locker is going straight into the garbage.
Screw Joe’s warning.
CHAPTER 30
Angela
Coty’s sprawled across his bed, down by my feet, when he asks, “So, what homework are you doing this time?” I narrow my eyes at him playfully and he throws his hands up. “Don’t get me wrong, you don’t need a reason to come over, ever. I just want to know what you’re doing.”
I release a breath, considering how much I should tell him. With his sincere eyes staring back at me, I decide it’s time to share what’s going on—at least some of it. “I’m looking for a job.” When his expression doesn’t change, I continue, “I’ve been having some issues with my manager. He’s, uh-”
“A creep?” Coty guesses, quite accurately, making my eyebrows jump. I nod, cautiously spurring him to explain. “I noticed the way he looks at you the times I’ve been there. Like he wants to eat you for dinner.”
Personally, I identify as more of a dessert but I get his point. And he’s not wrong. Joe’s sick. He’d take anything he could get, maybe even some things he can’t.
“Yeah, it’s been hard working there. The dynamic’s changed recently, so I’ve been looking for something else.” Coty drops his gaze to the comforter, chewing on his lip before rolling to his back. I look back to the PC in my lap.
This morning in the shower I told him about the night course I’ll be starting and he was supportive, but then went quiet for the rest of our time together. Leaving him to his thoughts like I did earlier, I focus on the task in front of me. Several food service options pop up, so I apply for the ones that might fit my new schedule.
Coty clears his throat suddenly, pulling me from a coffee house attendant—or barista, excuse me—application. I find myself craving the caffeinated drink now more than ever before even though I’ve never tasted coffee. Fucking mocha swirl eyes.
“Has he tried anything with you? I mean do you think you’re safe?”
Still typing, I answer, choosing my words carefully, “He hasn’t done anything.” Which is true—mostly. He tried, but he didn’t get anywhere. “And I don’t know. Is any woman ever really safe?”
“Angela.”
I look up, meeting his warm eyes.
“I’m serious.”
“Me, too. You don’t know what it’s like to be a female. Every man poses a threat with their size alone, not even factoring in if they’re aggressive. Then you add odd behavior and lewd comments and you don’t know what someone is capable of. You expect the worst but hope for the best. That’s just life for a woman. I have no idea what Joe could, or would, do.”
Coty shakes his head vigorously. “You shouldn’t have to deal with that.”
“No, I shouldn’t. That’s why I want to run my own business ultimately. That won’t happen until I can earn enough money to start one, so for now I’m looking for another job and hoping my next boss is nothing like him.”
“I want to start taking you to work again.” He holds up a palm when I open my mouth to argue. “The guys and I will take turns, just until you find something new. Whether you agree or not, one of us will be there every day when you get there and when you’re done. Don’t be difficult. Please.”
“You do know I work with him, right? I mean he could do anything, at any time, not just when I show up or leave. I don’t know how you being there would change that.”
“I don’t either exactly. This has been eating at me for a while now but I know you can handle yourself so I haven’t said anything. It kills me knowing you’re there with him though. I just want to help where I can.” His eyes plead with mine, but his words hint at something else, something I’ve been wondering.
“Was there really something wrong with my Jeep?” When his gaze drops to the gray comforter, I know I have my answer. “Coty!”
“There was.” He looks back up, grimacing. “Sort of. The carburetor did need to be replaced but we got the part in much faster than I led you to believe.”
I move to stand but he jumps from the bed, stopping me.
“Just listen. Marc and I were both getting fucked-up vibes from that guy, and when you asked me to pick you up, I just knew it had something to do with him. I made the decision then and there that I’d do whatever I had to until I could make sure you were safe. I’m sorry I wasn’t honest with you. I should’ve told you upfront that I just wanted to help out.”
“That wasn’t your call, Coty. I needed my car.”
“I know. I’m sorry, babe, especially when all that shit with your mom happened. I never meant to put you at a disadvantage, I swear.”
I hold my breath, remembering that awful scene from what should’ve been an amazing day. The memory of Rianne spilling our dysfunction like a half ass yard sale for Coty and his roommates to judge will forever haunt me. Add that with Coty’s lie, even if it was made with good intentions, and I feel a rise in the wall he’s been chipping away at. It’s slight, but it’s there, and I’m not sure if it’s a good thing or not. I already blew through my one-night attempt with him. Maybe that was a mistake after all.
“I understand you thought you were doing the right thing, but I don’t like being lied to. Ever. I’ve spent my life with someone trying to manipulate me and I won’t put up with it from you.”
“Fair enough. It won’t happen again.” He holds his hands in surrender. “Can I ask you something though?” Lowering back down to the bed, his face tightens and I have the urge to run away. Even though I know what�
��s coming, I’m still not prepared when he asks, “Did you mean what you said about regretting being born?” His voice softens at the end making me soften—something I thought I’d never do.
I cover my face, leaning my head back. “I really wish you hadn’t seen that. Yes and no. I regret it because of what my existence has cost her. Sometimes it’s easy to believe she would’ve been better without me. On the other hand, I’m glad I’m here.” I drop my hands to find Coty watching me carefully. “I haven’t had a great life, but it’s mine. That’s all I can really ask for.” I shrug, picking at my thumbnail. “You’re not the only one working your ass off to be different than your parents, you know?”
The mattress dips, then I see his hand slide over mine, ceasing my jerky movements.
“That’s fucking insane that she said that to you. It’s even worse that she made you think it was true. I hate that you regret being born, even if only for a minute—that’s a minute too long as far as I’m concerned. And you don’t owe her shit either. Parents are given children as gifts, not as obligations. If she sees it any other way, then she’s the ungrateful one.” His grip around my hand, and heart, tightens. “Trust me, babe, you are nothing like your mom. I only spent a few minutes in her presence, and I could tell you’re miles above where she is.”
“Did you say anything to her after I left?” I squint at him.
Coty removes his hand and smirks, some of his seriousness floating away. “Not really. We may have made it clear she wasn’t welcome back though.” Taking the laptop, he places it on the nightstand and turns back to me. “We don’t take kindly to outsiders messing with our own.”
“Why? Did she say something to you guys?”
“Nope, just to you.” His eyes connect with mine. “That was enough to ban her from ever returning.” At my blank stare, he clarifies, “That’s your mom, so if you want her here then that’s your choice and I won’t get in the way, much,” he smothers a smile, “but I don’t want to see anyone treat you like that again, no matter if they’re related to you or not. I’d rather watch my right arm be sawed off with a dull blade than watch someone hurt you.”
His hands frame my face and I close my eyes, hoping to hide the building tears.
“Thank you,” I whisper.
“Anything for you,” he whispers back. “Now, will you be a good girl and let me drive you to work?”
My misty eyes open with a roll.
“How can I argue with you after all that?”
“Exactly, you can’t. Plus, if he knows your boyfriend is there every day, hopefully he won’t even think about trying anything stupid.”
Coty leans down but before he can capture my lips, I pull back, hitting my head on the headboard. “Boyfriend?”
Not blinking, Coty replies, “Yes?”
I shake my bruised head. “I don’t remember us talking about you being my boyfriend.”
“That’s because you were exhausted from all the orgasms I gave you.” His lips meet mine with gentle pressure, then grins. “It’s okay though, I remember.” He even winks, making me laugh.
Bringing my arms up around his neck, I pull him closer until he’s positioned between my legs.
“I don’t think so.”
He cocks an eyebrow above his rapidly darkening eyes. “Do you need me to refresh your memory?”
Using his words, I murmur against his lips, “Give me your worst.”
He wastes no time returning the favor—multiple times.
* * *
My cell rings on my way home Friday night and I answer seeing Drew’s name. Just finished with an interview, I fill him in on how well it went along with the new information I’ve gathered from Joanna in HR so far. She’s been super helpful, and easy to work with, making the whole experience a breeze. The ways I’m grateful for Drew in my life never cease, just like his knack for looking out for me.
My smile stays in place all the way to Creekwood. The interview turned out to be for a coffee kiosk, only able to serve drive-through customers, which makes it that much more appealing. The hours are perfect and the possibility for tips is great. The owner and manager—a woman, thankfully—seemed pretty laidback. The only problem is my lack of experience with anything regarding food or beverage prep whatsoever. The owner, Faye, was confident that a little bit of training would remedy that issue though. The interview went longer than expected, which I’m taking as a good sign, and she said she’d let me know her decision soon.
As much as making fifty or more drink variations intimidates me, I’m hopeful the environment will prove better than the wash. Although this week hasn’t been bad—Joe’s been on his best behavior, almost leaving me alone completely—I still don’t trust him. His mood swings, rivaling any hormonal woman on her worst period, can change often and for no apparent reason.
The boys showing up as promised may be helping to keep Joe in line. Most days it’s been Coty or Beckett but yesterday Marc showed up when Coty had a meeting. They’ve been having a lot of those lately but none of them seem inclined to share what they’re about. Marc surprised me by waiting in the actual bay, which did a hell of a job scaring every man, woman, and child in the vicinity. Coty’s been picking me up on his bike, which causes a scene no matter how low-key he’s being, while Beckett’s been parking in the middle of the employee lot, music blaring, and walking into the wash to find me. It’ll be interesting to see what happens first—whether I can quit on my own accord or get fired from the guys’ antics.
Pulling up, I notice a small group gathered around the boys’ bikes. Coty immediately saunters over, meeting me at my Jeep and hauls me into a hug before my feet can touch the ground, kissing me thoroughly.
I can’t help but laugh. “You act like you didn’t just see me this morning.”
We’ve been spending every night together, either at his place or mine. He complains about my lack of air conditioning and I dislike the nonexistent privacy at his, so we take turns to even things out. Once we fall into bed together everything melts away though, leaving us in our personal cocoon to explore and enjoy each other. I’m quickly getting addicted to him, and it sounds like he’s having a similar reaction.
Today was the first day I took my own car to Hot Spots since I had the interview afterward, and I know it bothered him not having that reassurance.
“I miss you when you turn away from me. I miss you when you close your eyes at night. I miss you when your lips pull away from mine.” He leans down, softly nipping at my lips. “I miss your smell.”
I rear back. “My smell? And what’s that?”
“Strawberries.” He shrugs, then bends until his mouth teases my ear, whispering, “And cream.”
I whack his arm and push him away. “I knew it. That’s all you really care about, huh?”
Coty laughs lightly.
“Neighbor girl, this boy is so whipped I’m surprised you haven’t found him camped out on your doormat yet.” Beckett comes up behind Coty, putting his arm around his shoulders. “Don’t get me wrong though, the sex does sound amazing.” Beckett guffaws just before Coty shoves him off.
With a warm face, I drop my gaze to the ground, mumbling out, “I don’t have a doormat.”
The crowd’s gone quiet with Beckett’s words and is suddenly interested in what’s caught Coty’s attention—me. While I may have caught it, the question remains…will I keep it? If Beckett’s right about Coty’s feelings, then maybe I have a chance. If I want that chance is something I’m still trying to figure out.
“I’m messin’ with you, Angie.” He grabs the roll bar next to my head. “Anyway, come play with us.” I scowl at him and he chuckles, throwing his other hand up. “Not like that. Damn, you’re grouchy today. Anything happen with that needle dick boss of yours?”
“No, he was fine.” I leave out the odd looks Joe was casting my way, choosing to tell them about the interview instead.
When I’m finished, Marc calls from atop his bike, “Let’s go.”
�
��Where are you guys going?”
“Where are we going? You’re coming with.” Beckett gestures toward his bike. “Want to ride with me?” His eyebrows dance with mischief. Coty threatens bodily harm. We all laugh. There’s never a dull moment with these three.
After agreeing to go, I run upstairs to freshen up. I throw on a pair of shredded jeans and a black spaghetti strap crop top with some clean shell-toes. I quickly braid my hair over my shoulder before grabbing Coty’s black hoodie. Coming back down, I find everyone paired up on either motorcycles or tricked-out rides. Coty’s holding a different helmet than the borrowed one I’ve been using all week, so I cock an eyebrow, slowing my approach. Up close, it looks like it has two cat ears sticking from the top. It’s definitely a girl helmet, but I’d like to know exactly which girl he got it from.
I pop my hip out and fold my arms over my chest. Coty, reading the question on my face, answers before I even have to speak.
“Don’t worry, I didn’t get this from anyone else. This is yours.” My eyes widen. “It was supposed to be your graduation present but I kept forgetting to give it to you.” I can’t help the cheesy smile that paints my face. “Although I like seeing you jealous, so now I’m kind of glad I waited.”
Speechless, I take the smooth black helmet to turn it over in my hands. It’s sexy, I’ll give him that. He’s already attached a Bluetooth speaker so I can be connected to him and the others. I never pictured myself riding a motorcycle enough to own a helmet but Coty’s changing that. He’s changing a lot of things.
Coty teaches me how to actually put this one on by myself, and after a few clumsy attempts, I finally get it. I give him a bobble head kiss and thank him quietly, promising to show my appreciation later which earns me an enthusiastic smack on the ass.
Wrapping my arms around Coty’s waist, I prop my hands on the gas tank and he squeezes my thigh before starting the engine. Daily rides together haven’t changed the fact that I still feel more comfortable using my hands to support my weight instead of relying solely on him, and the stiffness in his back tells me he’s noticed. I run my hand up his stomach, letting him know I understand. He catches my hand, brings it up to his helmet’s mouthpiece demonstrating a kiss, then returns it to the tank in his own way of saying he understands, too. The tension in his back eases, and after losing myself in Beckett’s chosen music, we sail into the night.