by Quin Perin
“Oh, uhm…” I flushed a bit. I tended to forget that people could see things I wouldn’t be able to. My door had been opened, couch in view. Of course she’d seen Tony. I hoped he had pants on. I was sure he had pants on. Or was he wearing briefs? Had he ever gotten dressed after our shower? Shit. “That’s Tony. He’s my...Tony.”
She giggled girlishly at that. “He’s quite a handsome young man,” she said, nails digging into my arm as she squeezed. “All those tattoos though. Reminds me of my first husband. He was a sailor. Is your man a sailor?”
My cheeks kept heating up, a fire kindled that would not die. “He isn’t a sailor. He writes books about traveling...and tends bar.”
I heard her quiet laughter, and I wanted nothing more than to hide my face away. There was no reason I should feel guilty about it, but I felt like I’d been caught red-handed.
“Is he good to you?” she asked me, suddenly serious.
“Very good, ma’am.” And now I couldn’t stop the grin from spreading on my face. Ugh, I disgusted myself. “He likes taking care of me.”
“That’s good. It’s what you deserve,” she informed me.
“I hope so,” I said.
The store wasn’t too far from the apartment complex, and we arrived in no time. She let go of my arm and ushered me through the door. I stepped in and to the side, waiting until she grabbed a little cart and placed my hands on the handle. I needed a lot more than she did.
A deep breath and I steeled myself. God, the grocery store. It was something out of my nightmares. All those narrow aisles, the loud music playing. Navigating it on my own without a panic attack was impossible.
I wheeled the cart in, waiting for Mrs. Jansen to grab my elbow so that she could guide me. “Ready?” she asked.
“Let’s do this.”
We were nearly done.
We’d made our way through most of the store, but Mrs. Jansen had forgotten something. She’d insisted on going to grab it by herself, leaving me standing at the deli waiting for her cheese. There wasn’t much I could do but grip the cart and stand there. Nothing like being blind to make you realize how boring waiting around could be when you didn’t have a phone to fiddle with.
I zoned out, thinking about getting home. I could make a nice dinner for Tony and surprise him when he got back from his sister’s. Make up for not really feeding him that well. But then, she might have already cooked for him, and he wouldn’t want to eat. Or worse, he would eat, and then he’d be too full when I tried to get him into bed. Pondering this took up most of my attention, so I didn’t hear footsteps approaching me.
Suddenly, I felt a solid shoulder ramming into me, making me stumble against the glass of the display case. “Oops. Didn’t see you there.” A sneering voice made me cringe as I pushed my hands against the glass to straighten up.
“Tim, you didn’t have to do that.” I sighed, running my fingers through my hair. The last person I wanted to run into was Tim. Tony had been trying to avoid him, but they still ended up on the same shift sometimes. He was an ass.
“I told you I didn’t see you,” he said. He stood near the cart, not backing off. “I’m not in the habit of paying attention to filth.”
Wow. Fucking douchebag.
Grinding my teeth together, I shook my head. “You need to grow up. Act like a fucking adult,” I said. “And leave me alone.”
Tim scoffed. “I need to grow up? Me?”
“Yes. You,” I drawled.
“You’re one to fucking talk, Dima. You’re an emotionless psychopath. An animal.”
My jaw clenched, so hard I felt as if my teeth were going to crack. His voice gave me the general idea of where he was, so I stepped toward him. One finger jabbed out, solidly connecting with his chest. “You do not talk to me like that,” I hissed between my teeth. “You need to get over yourself, Tim. We were never an item. We were not dating. We were having fun, and you took it way too seriously. You’re acting like you have a claim on me. You do not. Did not. Never will.”
Tim’s fingers were suddenly around my wrist, my whole body tensing. He squeezed hard, bones grinding together. Pain shot down my arm, and I growled, trying to tug away.
“You’re right,” Tim rumbled. “We weren’t dating. You don’t date. You’re a fucking whore. Jumping from dick to dick. A broken, slutty little bitch incapable of love. Hell, you’re incapable of caring about anyone.”
Smack!
My hand connected sharply with his cheek, and he jerked away from me, dropping my wrist. I wished I could see the look on his face. I hoped he was fucking shocked. Thank God I had not missed him. “I’m incapable of caring about an asshole like you,” I snapped at him. “But I do fucking care, and you know who I care about? Tony! He’s everything you’ll never be. And I hope it eats you up at night. I hope every time you see him, see my marks on him, it hurts.”
I heard Tim take a shaky breath, but he didn’t say anything. His shoes squeaked on the floor, the sound of him turning, and then he stomped away, leaving me shaking and reaching for the cart.
Fuck.
THIRTY-EIGHT
Tony
Zoe spotted me the moment I opened the door to the café. Despite what I had told Dima, I wasn’t about to visit my sister. Zoe’s head tilted to the side, and she gave me a soft smile as I approached. The café was fairly busy with Jan tending to customers and taking orders at the table by the window.
“Hey, you, what an honor, considering Dima isn’t in today.” She grinned up at me, making a smile twitch at the corner of my lips.
“Hello there, sweetie.” I stepped closer, stuffing my hands into the pockets of my jacket.
“What brings Prince Charming here?” Zoe asked before she turned to the coffee machine. I leaned against the counter, not sure about how to phrase what I was gonna suggest.
“See, Zoe, I need your help with something. I want to surprise Dima with a photo shoot.” She swirled around, eyes wide.
“What?”
I held her gaze and repeated, “A photo shoot. I know he used to study photography and he was a model. I’ve seen the pictures at his place. He misses it a lot.” Zoe put down the cup she was holding and faced me, hands on the counter.
“You’re not talking about a kinky...kind of photo shoot, are you?”
I pushed off the counter, held up my hands, and laughed. “God, no!”
“Good. Because you know, I am a good friend but not that much of a good friend.” Zoe arched an eyebrow and then tended to her coffee order again. As Jan headed over, he gave me a bright smile, gathering a couple of scones Dima had prepared and frozen. They looked delicious. Mouthwateringly so.
“Fancy seeing you here.” Jan chuckled as he placed the scones on two plates and added a couple of forks on the side.
“Yeah, well, I was on my way to Sara, thought I would pop in.” He nodded and waited for Zoe to finish the coffee she was making.
“That reminds me.” Jan looked straight at me, lifting a finger. “Could you help me with the Christmas decorations in a couple of weeks? Zoe here took the first week of December off, so I’ll need a hand then.”
I shrugged. “Sure, count me in. Not like I’m super busy during the day.”
“Awesome. By the way, if you’re sick of working at home, you can always come in and hang out here. We’ve got Wi-Fi,” Jan said as he picked up the tray and balanced it on one hand. He truly was a good guy.
“I’ll take you up on that. Let me know when you need my help.”
“Will do,” Jan replied with a radiant smile and then moved away to serve his customers. I turned back to Zoe, hands planted on the edge of the counter.
“So, about that photo shoot…”
I was on my way back to the apartment when I saw Dima in front of his building, a couple of bags leaning against the brick wall. When Mrs. Jansen had picked him up earlier, I had refrained from saying hello, mainly because I had worn my usual jogging pants and a white, plain shirt.
Now t
hough, properly dressed in jeans and a dark blue sweater, I jogged closer so I could help them with the bags and her rolling cart. “Hey,” I said when Dima shouldered the door open, two heavy-looking bags digging into his wrists. I took them from him with a kiss and then looked at Mrs. Jansen.
“Oh dear, look at that. You are such a sweetheart.” She snickered and patted my arm as she craned her neck to look up at me. She was a small lady, white hair, slim glasses. Well dressed and put together.
“Just trying to help, ma’am,” I responded and held the door open so she could walk through. I couldn’t read the expression on Dima’s face. It was neutral, cold, bordering upset. I frowned and ushered him inside, out of the harsh, cold wind that had picked up a couple of minutes ago.
“You okay?” I whispered, my hand on the small of his back. First, he nodded. Then he shook his head.
“You’ve got yourself a feisty one,” Mrs. Jansen lilted. I glanced at her as she tried to lift the cart up the first couple of stairs. I slid from Dima and heaved the two bags on one shoulder. Wordlessly, I offered to take the cart from her. She smiled kindly, her eyes shining behind her glasses. “Thank you, dear.”
“Did something happen?” I asked as I carried everything up, the wooden stairs creaking under the added weight. I wasn’t sure where Mrs. Jansen lived, whether it was above us or on our floor, so I waited for them to come up. Dima seemed distracted, his hands on the railing as well as the wall beside him as he followed Mrs. Jansen.
With a soft sigh, she conquered the last step. “Nothing out of the ordinary,” she said, but I had a feeling she just didn’t want to spill the beans.
“Top floor?” I asked to which she answered with a nod. “Let me put these bags down, and then I’ll help you with this.” I tipped my chin toward her cart. She waved me off and shook her head.
“I’ve been climbing these stairs for the last forty years, I can do it, dear.”
“It’s the least I can do.” Since I had a key to Dima’s place, I walked down the hallway, unlocked the door, and put down the grocery bags. Dima slipped past me on my way out. I grabbed his shoulders to stop him. “I’ll be back in a moment,” I assured him.
I carried Mrs. Jansen’s cart up the next set of stairs and thanked her for going with Dima. I knew she enjoyed his company, but I was still glad he had someone like her. Before I could leave, she insisted on fishing a chocolate bar out of her cart. I tried to refuse, but she wouldn’t have it. Grinning like a child, with my chocolate bar in hand, I made my way downstairs and closed the door behind me, shucking off my jacket.
“What happened?”
Dima had taken off his shoes, but they had tumbled over, a far cry from being neatly arranged as they usually were. Biting his bottom lip, he dropped down onto the couch and sighed out loud and long.
“I ran into Tim and kinda freaked out. I slapped him in the middle of the grocery store.”
I blinked a couple of times, letting the news sink in.
“What did he say?” I asked and placed the chocolate bar on the coffee table before sitting down beside him.
“He was being a dick, called me a whore...”
Christ. And here I thought Tim wouldn’t stoop so low. I ground my jaw, rage blooming in my chest. I’m gonna kill him.
“What,” I hissed out, and it hardly sounded like a question.
“S’fine, just...in the heat of the moment, I slapped him. I have no idea who saw,” Dima mumbled, pushing his head back against the couch. I took his hands in mine, his fingers cold from outside.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t there, but I assure you, he wouldn’t have gotten away with a simple slap if I had been. Next time I see him—”
“You won’t do anything,” Dima cut me off, spurring on the anger inside me, like gasoline tossed on fire.
“I took care of it. He should leave us alone now. He knows how I feel about you. That you’re not just a fuck. I told him that.”
“You did?”
Dima nodded while I gaped at him in disbelief.
“Yes...”
My fingers tightened around his slender hands not only to hold them, warm them but also to show him how much this meant to me.
“I feel the same about you. I hope you know that.”
Dima gave a one-sided smile and turned his head in my direction.
“I know, Tony. I know.”
THIRTY-NINE
Dima
Tony woke me up early the next Saturday with a muffin and a cup of coffee on the nightstand. I didn’t know how long he’d been awake—long enough to run to the café and back, apparently—but I knew he was excited about something. I heard glee in his voice, and while he didn’t quite rush me, he made it clear he wanted to go out. He had plans he wasn’t willing to share, but he helped me pick out a nice outfit, so I figured it was for a date. Somewhere nice. Maybe brunch with lots of boozy breakfast drinks.
I did not expect him to take me to the beach.
It was a cold day. But the sun kept it from being too icy, the air was still chilly, and the surf sounded angry. I could almost picture it. Days like these had always been my favorite. Almost cold enough to hurt with the warm sun trying its hardest to prevent it. A silent battle between two opposites.
“You okay?” Tony asked, looping his arm around my waist.
“Hm.” I lifted my face toward the sky, pulled from my thoughts. “You’ve been complaining and complaining about me spending lunch at the shore because it’s cold, and now you’re bringing me here?” Hypocrite.
“Oh, hush.” Tony laughed, squeezing me closer. “Today is a lot warmer than it’s been so...”
“Uh-huh.”
“Besides, today is a special day,” he chirruped happily.
“Why?” I asked, bumping my head against his shoulder.
“Because it is.” Tony snickered. “It’s also a surprise.”
I scowled and pulled away from him, crossing my arms over my chest. “Tell me what it is,” I demanded.
“Nah.” Tony snorted.
Growling, I turned my back to him. What sort of surprise was he planning that brought us to a cold beach? I actually felt nervous. I didn’t like not knowing what was coming.
Tony slipped behind me, hands on my hips and pulling me back. He didn’t say anything. Lips tickled at the nape of my neck, and it took all my effort not to sink into him. So warm and comforting.
“Oh God, why is Dima pouting?” Zoe spoke from beside us, getting louder as she came closer.
“He’s upset that I won’t tell him what the surprise is,” Tony explained, squeezing me.
“I don’t like surprises,” I grumbled, wiggling against Tony. “And I don’t do threesomes or girls so that better not be the surprise.”
Tony’s laughter was a loud thunder rumbling through me as he lifted me off of my feet in a backward hug. “Like I would ever share you,” he said, setting me back onto my feet.
That was a good answer. I let myself loosen up a bit, turning around and placing my hands on his chest. Stretching, I pressed our lips together. “Good boy,” I teased, feeling him smile. I patted him gently before pulling away. I took a few steps toward where I’d heard Zoe. “So, what are you doing here?”
“I’m part of your surprise!” Zoe chimed.
“How?” I didn’t want to sound mean, but for the life of me, I couldn’t think of one reason why Tony would have gotten Zoe involved in this.
“Well”—Zoe’s hands rested on my shoulders, orienting me to where she was—“I’m doing your makeup. And hair. And clothes.”
“For what?” These two were talking in circles.
“Your photo shoot,” Tony said, the smile in his voice so clear. “We’re going to do a photo shoot today.”
My mind couldn’t quite keep up with what they said. I swear I smelled smoke as my thoughts ground to a halt. “Photo...shoot?” I asked, tongue heavy with confusion.
Zoe hummed and spun me around, giving me a gentle push. Tony’s outstretched
arms engulfed me, and I landed against his chest. They were conspiring against me. Nose against my hair, he held me close.
“You can say no,” he murmured. “But you seemed so sad when you talked about modeling. And I know it’s not much, but I thought you might like getting a chance to do it again. Even if it’s just for me.”
My throat felt tight, thick with tears as I buried my face into his chest. Couldn’t speak, or I’d cry.
“Plus, he really wants some pictures of you,” Zoe added nonchalantly.
Tony chuckled. “It’s true,” he admitted. “So I can show everyone my beautiful boyfriend.”
Boyfriend? For some reason, I loved the sound of that. I whacked his chest and sniffled. No one had ever done anything like this for me before. No one had ever even come close. Tony cared so much about me, about my feelings. I didn’t know how to deal with it. “You’re ridiculous,” I said. “So fucking ridiculous.”
Tony cupped my cheek, kissing me. “Ridiculous...maybe,” he agreed. “But I’ll be as ridiculous as I need to be if it makes you smile.”
Zoe cleared her throat. “Excuse me, but time is money, people,” she said in a firm voice. “Let’s get this show on the road.”
It had been so long, but it was like riding a bike, so familiar, so easy. Neither Tony nor Zoe was near as professional as I was used to, but it was still good fun. Tony seemed to enjoy everything I did, and he really liked getting to order me around. He was kinder than Eugene had been when I modeled for him. He never spoke sharply, never got annoyed with me. When I couldn’t quite position myself right, he would come over and guide me with gentle hands and light kisses.
He kept telling me to smolder, to look seductive. I’d barely manage it before my lips cracked into a grin again. I couldn’t think of the last time I’d felt so happy. Like my old self again. Like things hadn’t changed. I floated along. So high in the sky, I would never touch the ground again. It was wonderful.