Flock

by Stewart , Kate

  Through patterns of my past, I’ve learned that I’m drawn to dysfunction, and more so to the men who provide the questions.

  I’m determined not to repeat my mistakes.

  I have a misplaced theory that if you’re not suffering, you’re not loving hard enough, deep enough, and that’s just not healthy.

  I gave Brad my heart and virginity and we broke up because he thought I expected too much.

  With Jared, it was the same. I’d almost forgiven him for cheating on me, almost.

  But then I chose myself.

  The truth is, I do expect a lot out of my love story and the man I’ll share it with.

  I expect passion and butterflies, and one or two fairy tale moments. When we fight, I want it to hurt. When we fuck, I want to feel it with every fiber of my being. When a man confesses his love to me, I expect him to mean it. I don’t want to question the words’ authenticity. I want to be claimed and owned and ruled and possessed by love.

  Is that expecting too much?

  Maybe it is, maybe I’ve read one too many love stories.

  From what I’ve learned so far, maybe I do expect too much.

  Especially if I can’t get the man I’m falling for to defend me.

  Did I cause the drama? No. Dominic did.

  Did I expect too much from Sean?

  It breaks my heart to think I might have. That he’s incapable of being who I hope he would be because he’s given me so much of what I want already.

  Should I compromise to keep him? Hell no.

  Sean was wrong. Dominic was wrong. I am taking up for myself.

  I’ve lived through two bad examples and know enough to see the warning signs.

  Some part of me thinks that my sickly heart was inherited, coded in my genes. Not only that, but I’ve also watched my mom fall in and out over the years with the same sort of reckless regard for her own well-being, always one-upping her last disaster with a bigger one and hoping for the biggest payoff.

  It’s only since she started dating her latest boyfriend that she’s calmed that part of herself. But inside, I know she’s never gotten that payoff. She struggled for years to find a man to give her those feelings but instead settled. She gave up, and we both know it.

  Even though I vowed to be different from my mother in the way I live my life, we have the same disease. We crave the all-consuming, soul-stealing, drama-filled romances that are destined to end badly. I inherited my heart from her, and it’s relentless.

  Though I’m fearful, I can’t give up. Finding love is the mecca of what I dream for myself. I have other dreams, dreams enough to hold me. A fulfilling career is a no-brainer but finding that once-in-a-lifetime love is non-negotiable. While my life has been riddled with shitty examples, I still believe it exists.

  My greatest hope is to be in all-consuming love. My biggest fear is to be in all-consuming love.

  Sean brought out that thirsty girl, only to dry her hopes in the next breath.

  Some part of me already knows falling for Sean will end badly. I feel way too much already—way too much for just a month.

  But isn’t that what I want?

  Maybe for now, I should just listen to the voice of reason in my head, instead of the addict in my heart. The voice that tells me there are relationships out there filled with just as much passion that don’t have to result in bloodletting.

  The truth is, taking this stance has been hell. I miss him horribly.

  But I’ll stand on principle because to hell with playing the fool. Sean was right in another sense. If I don’t stick up for myself early, I’m setting a low bar.

  So mad I’ll remain.

  Fucking men.

  I stab at my food, my mood shit as I glare at the side of Roman’s head.

  Lamb chops with mint sauce and rosemary potatoes. It’s the most pretentious dinner I can think of. I hate lamb. Roman returns my gaze, unflinching as I stare at him with his own arctic eyes. He’s handsome as far as older men go, and for a second, I wonder what he looked like when my mother met him. Was he as charming as Sean, just as disarming? Did he play the game of trust me before he hurt her? Or did his cold exterior only intrigue her to the point she couldn’t resist him? She’s never told me the details of their story, even though I’ve asked multiple times. She refuses to visit that part of her life, and I assume because it’s painful. If being his daughter is this uncomfortable, I can only imagine what being the woman in his life was like.

  “Is there something wrong with your food, Cecelia?”

  “I don’t like lamb.”

  “You liked it when you were younger.”

  “I tolerated it to please you.”

  “I see we aren’t in the business of pleasing our father anymore.”

  “I’ve grown up. I prefer to eat what I enjoy.”

  Roman cuts his chop, dipping it in the green goo before he hesitates. “Cecelia, I’m aware I’ve missed a lot—”

  “Eight years,” I wipe my mouth. “Forgive me if I’m wondering what the hell I’m doing here.”

  “You’re in a mood tonight.”

  “I’m curious.”

  “I see.” His wrists rest on the edge of the table. His cutlery posed just so. The ritual makes me sick. We aren’t a family. I’m a part of his corporation.

  “You’re part of my legacy. You are my only child.” No apologies for the years he’s missed. No excuses for his extended absence. Simplistic answers with no emotion behind them. I can’t even imagine Roman being intimate with anyone. Mom must have had a field day loving this bastard.

  “We were discussing your parents last time we talked. Did you grow up wealthy?”

  He frowns. “Somewhat.”

  “Define somewhat.”

  “My mother had a fair amount of money she inherited when she married my father. But they squandered their small fortune away instead of growing it and died penniless. That’s where they made their mistake.”

  “Were you close?”

  “No.”

  “Why?”

  “They were not affectionate people and do refrain from any rude comments. I’m aware some consider that a shortcoming.”

  “Only people with a pulse.”

  He chews his food slowly and looks at me pointedly. “My blood is red, I assure you. It’s the same blood that runs through your veins.”

  “I’m nothing like you.”

  “You have one sharp tongue.”

  “Don’t pretend to care, Roman. Why make me a part of all this at the last minute if you really didn’t want me in your life? Why give me anything at all, if you could just write a check and be done with me?”

  He slowly lifts his tumbler to his lips and takes a sip. “Maybe I have regrets on how I handled things with you.”

  “Maybe?”

  “I do.” He sets his glass down and presses his napkin against his mouth. “Excuse me. I have business.”

  “Great talking to you, Sir.”

  I’m most definitely about to start my period, and I’m sure this shark smells it. I would feel bad if it wasn’t Roman Horner on the receiving end of my attitude. But tonight, I’m over the bullshit pretense.

  He pauses at the doorway and then turns to me. He waits until our eyes connect before he speaks. “I gave you my last name because I had hoped to be a father to you. One day, I realized I never would be, and the least I could do was care for you financially. I’m handing you my life’s work because of my failure. All I ask is that you play a small part. I know it doesn’t make up for it, but it’s all I’ll ever have to give you.”

  “Did you love my mother?” I ask hoarsely, damning the budding emotion. “Have you ever loved anyone?”

  He grimaces, his eyes fixed somewhere in the past as he stares through me. “I tried.” With that confession, he leaves me at the table.

  I do my best to ignore the sting behind my eyes and the tear that falls because of it. That was it. I know it in my soul. That will be the one and only confession my
father ever gives me about the way he feels about me.

  After years of wondering, I finally have my answer.

  He tried.

  My father just admitted he didn’t love me.

  I pull the tear from my face with my finger and study it. Roman Horner probably would have preferred an abortion to an heir, and he thinks an inheritance will redeem him in some fucked up way.

  I smash the hope-filled tear I didn’t know I was harboring between my fingers and finally give myself permission to hate him. Just more proof that the fantasies of a masochistic heart are much better than any experience with the real thing.

  With that knowledge, I retreat.

  SO BE IT. IT’S BEEN days since the texts stopped, and I’m still convincing myself I’m fine with it. If Sean can’t deal with me standing my ground about his own shitty behavior, we’re already a lost cause.

  I fell for every line his beautiful lips fed me. Only to feel slapped.

  I caught myself just in time.

  To make shitty matters worse, my plant bully has taken it upon herself to make my days more grueling, taunting me in Spanish—I can’t understand—in the breakroom and all but smashed me into the wall when we punched out last night. She’s got it in for me, and she’s making it known shift by shift. The last thing I need to do is report it to my supervisor, who I’m actively avoiding.

  I smooth on more lotion and kick back in the lounger, feeling the tingle of the sun on my skin. A much-needed day off alone is exactly what I need to recharge. I just wished my libido would do me the solid of agreeing.

  Sean woke that part of me up again, and now it refuses to be ignored. Day in, day out, I’m constantly in a place where the throb won’t cease and my new craving reminds me of what I’m missing.

  I’ll be thankful when I outgrow my teenage hormones, but I have to woman up early because I’m no longer dating boys.

  Restless from another uneventful day, I close my eyes after my third attempt to get into a novel, certain it’ll take me more than seven days to break my new bad habit.

  A tidal wave of water covers me, and I shriek from where I lay, jerking to sit, and when I do, I see none other than Dominic appear from beneath the rolling surface. Water pours from him as he stands to his full height a second before my view is blocked by the man who I spent the last week ghosting but continues to haunt my every thought.

  “You think I’d let you get away that easily?” Hazel eyes glitter down at me, along with the dazzling smile I can’t banish from my thoughts.

  “What are you doing here?”

  The slap of the closing gate has me peeking around Sean as Tyler comes into view, hauling a cooler. “Hey, beautiful,” he greets, scanning my yard and letting out a whistle, “I can see why you’re holing up here.”

  With the salute of my hand, I cover my eyes, peering up at Sean. “What the hell are y’all doing?”

  “We shared our spot with you,” he shrugs. “Only fair.”

  “That may be, but I assumed you could take a hint.”

  His eyes flare and his jaw twitches. “Don’t play bitch. I like you too much.”

  He takes a seat next to me and I don’t know whether I want to kiss him or slap him, I decide on neither.

  “Kiss,” he says, reading my thoughts all too well. He leans in, and I do my best to hold my breath but fail, inhaling him fully. It’s like coming home.

  “Get that asshole out of my pool.”

  “Stop it,” Sean snaps.

  I rear back. “Who the hell do you think you are?”

  “I’m the boyfriend you’re pissed at.”

  His statement strikes deep, threatening my progress as Tyler sets the cooler between the loungers and pulls off his T-shirt.

  “Give us a minute,” Sean asks Tyler who nods, grinning at me over his shoulder.

  “Hey, Cee.”

  I can’t help my return smile, especially when that dimple appears. “Hey, Tyler.”

  “I’m jealous,” Sean whispers.

  “About what?”

  “That smile you just gave him. Did I really fuck up that badly?”

  “You hurt me,” I decide on stark honesty. “I thought we had a good thing, and I feel like you threw me to the wolf.”

  “That’s what I’m trying to avoid. But you twisted the whole situation into what you expected to happen. You expected me to show my Gemini side, but I’m a Virgo, remember? I had no chance against your imagination. This fight was inevitable. We both knew the minute I pissed you off; this would be your argument.”

  I gape at him. “I might have a hard time trusting, but you’re making it impossible.”

  He grips me by the neck and leans in, so we’re nose to nose. “Tell me you don’t miss me.”

  “Irrelevant. If I can’t trust you to have my back when I need you, then what’s the point?”

  “The point is you didn’t need me. You just thought you did, and I wanted you to realize that. Instead, you left my bed and decided to punish me for not handling your business.”

  “My business?” I gawk. “You have some nerve.”

  He refuses to give me space and grips me tighter. “I call it faith. You are a lot stronger than you think you are, and I wanted you to see that.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I want you around, and often,” he murmurs. The part of me that wants to fight is growing weak by the sight of him and his logic. My feelings for him scare me. It scares me a lot, and maybe I was looking for a reason to push him away.

  “I thought you said it was my decision.”

  He threads his fingers through my hair. “I don’t like your decision. At. Fucking. All. But I’ll respect it. If that’s what you really want.”

  He’s got his mirrored sunglasses on and I pull them off, sliding them on so he can’t see the emotions I’m sure I’m broadcasting. “I won’t be treated like that.”

  “Then don’t allow yourself to be, but your point’s been made with me. I’m sorry, baby,” he murmurs, and I can only hope it’s sincere. “You’d better believe I’m going to have your back when you need it.” He presses my hand to his chest. “Believe that if you don’t believe anything else about me.”

  I can’t deny him. I can’t, no matter how much it scares me. I want Sean, I want his words to ring true, and the only way to know is by taking a chance on him, and riding this out.

  “I thought I was doing the right thing, but I don’t know what that is when it comes to you.” He looks torn, his eyes losing focus as he says this.

  “What do you mean?”

  I feel the shift in his posture, all signs of play gone. “It means for both our sakes, I should probably leave you alone, but I’m not fucking going to.” He flattens me to him and kisses the life out of me. I moan, my hands instantly clutching him as he inappropriately deepens our kiss. But that’s Sean, and it’s one of the things I love so much about him. He kisses me and kisses me, and I take it, giving back just as much. When he pulls away, I’m on fire, unable to hide the rapid rise and fall of my chest.

  “Fuck, I look good on you.” He lifts the glasses resting on my nose and presses his forehead to mine. “I really wish I hadn’t brought these assholes with me.”

  I peek over to see Dominic perched on the shallow end of the pool.

  “My father has security cameras set up everywhere, and he’s already threatened me about company. This isn’t going to bode well.”

  “We’ll handle it.”

  “You’ll…handle it? How?”

  He nods toward Dominic and I groan.

  Sean turns back to me. “Look, he isn’t easy. But he’s here because he wants to be.”

  “Is that supposed to make me feel better? The guy is a motherfucker.”

  Tyler claps his hands together, joining us at the loungers. “Cool, Mom and Dad made up. Time to celebrate.” He grabs a beer from the cooler, shakes it up and sprays us with it.

  “You shit,” I smile, just as Sean lifts me honeymoon style into hi
s arms and jumps us into the pool. When we emerge, I’m grinning, no doubt the goofy one that tells him far too much. He gazes down at me and kisses me before he sends me flying. I shriek as I come up, his sunglasses half-on/half-off.

  “You ass, I wasn’t ready!”

  “Then I guess you better up your game,” he taunts when I charge him. We frolic in the water as Tyler makes himself comfortable in a lounger, turning up his radio. Sean’s phone rings and he gets out of the pool, holding up a finger to me that it’s important before answering. “Hey, Dad.”

  I make my way over to Dominic who sips a beer. I can’t see his eyes behind a pair of classic black Ray-Bans, but I know they’re on me as I wade through the water toward him.

  “I guess you want an apology,” he flips his glasses to rest on his head, his thick black hair cradling them easily. Soaking wet, he’s even more deadly, his lashes darker, everything darker. It’s impossible not to note his appeal. And his venomous smirk makes breathing around him no easier.

  “I won’t hold my breath.”

  He holds up a finger, downing his beer and I roll my eyes. “Okay, I think I’m ready.” He exhales as if he’s about to give a grand speech. “I’m sorry I told Sean I caught you staring at my dick.”

  I can’t help it. I burst out laughing.

  He gives me his first genuine smile and it knocks me for a loop.

  “You are a rare bastard.”

  “I prefer motherfucker. At least then, it would be somewhat factual. Isn’t that right, Tyler?”

  Tyler doesn’t flinch from where he lays basking in the sun. “Fuck you.”

  Dominic grins and I shake my head.

  “You had your door open. I was shocked, to say the least.”

  “And the other five minutes?”

  “Do women actually sleep with you?”

  “No, never. They’re too busy screaming my name,” he says without a trace of humor. “Except the last girl, she was a corpse.”

  “You are unreal. Psychiatrist’s dream, indeed.” Briefly, I wonder if violence does make this maniac hard. If it’s the only thing that makes him hard.

  “What you thinking about?” Dominic asks, his lips twitching as he lowers his sunglasses.