by Mazzy King
“Sorry,” I say. Why am I apologizing? “I guess I’m a little shaky from…what happened.”
“I got you.” He slips his hands around my waist and gives me a boost up like I weigh nothing. His hands are warm and so strong.
I blink at him. He smiles at me, then shuts my door and walks around the front to get behind the wheel. I buckle my seat belt. Now it’s not just my knees trembling.
In the cab of his truck, I can really smell him. It’s a masculine, woodsy scent with a ribbon of vanilla, not light and spicy. It’s delicious.
Does he smell like that…under his clothes too?
I’m grateful for the dark hiding the blush on my cheeks.
“Where to?” he asks.
“Oh—it’s the Oak View development. A duplex on Bridge Street.”
Axel cuts a glance at me. “Really?”
“Uh, yeah. Why?”
“I live over there too.”
I blink. “No way.”
“Yeah. Small world.”
We don’t say much on the way there. It’s about a fifteen-minute drive. When he turns onto Bridge Street and I point out which duplex is Maddox’s, it all comes together.
The charcoal truck from last night flashes through my mind, as does the tall, hooded guy who drove it.
Axel pulls into the driveway and turns to me. “You’re Brassard’s little sister?”
At the same time I say, “You’re the Army buddy?”
4
Axel
Talk about a trip.
Even over a week later, I still can’t believe Maddox’s little sister is Blair. Blair is Maddox’s little sister.
And she lives right next door.
The coincidence of it all blows my mind every time I think about it—in between the moments I think of her.
We work most of the same nights. I don’t work Sundays because I have to get up for my day job early on Mondays, and I told Marty when he first wanted me to start fighting that he needed to give me Sundays off or I’d walk. The bar is officially closed Monday and Tuesday. Starting the day after I met Blair, I’ve been taking her to and from work every night, even on Sundays.
I should be sleeping at three thirty on Monday morning, but instead, I’m sitting in the truck right outside the bar, waiting for her to come out and making sure no one fucks with her. It was what Maddox asked me to do, so of course, I obliged.
I just left out the part where I’m seriously attracted to her.
On Monday when the bar was closed and when I got home from the gym after work, she invited me over for a beer. Said she wanted to get to know me, since we’re neighbors. We sat at the kitchen table talking for three hours. On Tuesday, when it stopped raining, I grilled some burgers out back, more than I’d eat on my own. The smell eventually drew her outside, and she invited me in again to eat. That night, I stayed four hours.
She’s my last thought before I close my eyes at night, and my first thought when I wake up. I find myself looking for her when I leave the house to go to work at the Army base and when I get home in the evening. I don’t hate going to The Pit so much anymore, because I get to be around her all night, and then take her home.
Well…not really take her home. At least, not in the way I want.
The door opens and Blair steps out. Jeremy’s right behind her. He waves to me, then Blair, and steps back inside. He’s such a good dude. I told him what happened after Blair’s first night, and he’s been extra mindful about escorting all our women employees to their cars each night.
And he knows Blair is…important to me.
She hurries to the truck, where I’ve already opened the door for her. “Glad that’s over,” she says with a groan.
“Busy night?”
She nods. “Like, it’s Sunday. Shouldn’t everyone be at home getting ready for work tomorrow?”
I chuckle. “I can tell you’re not from here. This is Port City, baby.”
She laughs. “I guess not. The money’s been all right, but when I get a day job, I won’t miss this at all. I’m not a night owl. I like to be in bed.”
A mental image of her in my bed flashes through my mind, and my dick immediately perks up. Which is truly remarkable, considering the exercises I’ve been putting him through each night. I’ve never jerked off so much in my life, but the thought of Blair, with her sweet and sassy personality and all those luscious curves and that mouth just behind the wall that connects my place to hers drives me insane. But she obviously thinks of me just as a friend, and besides, she’s my buddy’s little sister. I doubt he’d take too kindly to knowing how much I lust over her.
But then, it’s not just lust. It’s something deeper. I feel this need, deep in my chest, to protect her. To take care of her in all the ways a good man takes care of a good woman. I’ve only known her for a week, but already I know I’d do anything for her.
She’s told me a lot about her life, where she grew up, how she grew up, and how close she and Maddox are. She told me about losing her job, getting her MBA, and the bad situation she left in York Bay. She told me how much she cried the day Maddox deployed.
In turn, I told her about where I grew up, a hundred miles away from Port City. How my parents divorced, my mom’s accident. She seemed to enjoy hearing I visit my mom every Saturday, and even told me to tell her hi when I left this past Saturday to go see her.
My mom was quite interested in hearing about Blair.
“I bet you’re tired,” Blair says, tilting her head against the headrest as we drive. “I’m sorry to drag you out of bed. Really. I probably could have grabbed a ride with Honey or one of the bartenders.”
I smile over at her. “It’s not a problem whatsoever. I like making sure you get home safely. Besides, I wouldn’t be upholding my promise to your brother if I let you do that.”
“But it’s not your job to babysit me,” she says with a laugh, then clears her throat and glances away. “I mean, you obviously have a life outside of this. A mom who needs you. A…girlfriend.” But there’s a little lilt at the end, like she’s asking.
I give her a sidelong look, then shift my gaze back to the road. “Blair, I can assure you if I had a girlfriend, I would not spend this much time with another woman. Much less one who’s as stunningly beautiful as you. That would be disrespectful to her, and I don’t disrespect women.”
I glance at her again. She’s smiling down at her lap.
“Well, the disrespect would depend on what you did with the other woman, right?” she asks, pushing a lock of her angled brown hair behind her ear. “I mean, she would be able to trust you. Wouldn’t she?”
An unmistakable note of hope in that question. It makes blood surge through me. Why is she asking?
“Of course she’d be able to trust me,” I reply, my eyes still on the road. I pull up to a red light and stop, even though there’s no traffic coming in any direction. “I’m a one-woman guy. I always have been. But I wouldn’t want to be spending time with another woman if I had one of my own.”
I know I shouldn’t. I know this. But I can’t help looking over at Blair, meeting her eyes, holding them.
If I had you.
I swear the temperature in the truck rises at least ten degrees. Blair blinks, breaking the heated link between us. “Green,” she says softly.
Better for me to focus on the road. Losing myself in her eyes—which I’ve come to know are a beautiful greenish-hazel—is extremely dangerous.
The rest of the ride is silent, but not uncomfortable. I park in my driveway, then walk Blair to her door, like I do every night.
“You still want to get your stuff tomorrow?” I ask.
“Well…only if it’s not too much trouble. I hate that you have to dip into your leave.”
I give her a one-sided smile, shaking my head. “It’s just half a day. I barely ever take leave, anyway. I don’t mind at all. Give you time to sleep in, then I’ll be back here around noon. We’ll head out then, be back in time for dinner. It�
�s all good.”
“You…want to have dinner tomorrow?” she says, her long lashes fluttering.
Damn. I didn’t mean it to sound pushy or like I have any expectations of her or her time. But there’s a slight smile on those full pink lips, and even the garish fluorescent porch light can do nothing to hide the pink suffusing her cheeks.
I should say, “Only if you want to.” I should say, “That’s okay, you’ve got better things to do.”
Instead, what comes out is, “Hell yes, I want to have dinner with you.”
She giggles a little, glancing away. “Where should we go?”
“Oh no,” I tell her, shaking my head with a smile. “I’m cooking for you. I don’t mean burgers on the grill. I mean, cooking.” Not that she doesn’t deserve a fancy night out—she definitely does.
Maybe that’ll be our date next weekend.
Blair lifts a silky, slender brow. “You cook? Like cook-cook?”
“My mama raised me right,” I reply. “Do you have any food allergies or dislikes?”
She shakes her head. “I’ll try anything once.”
She licks her lips when she says it, and I bury the urge to groan. I thought maybe I wouldn’t have to jack off tonight, but that right there, imagining her on her knees in front of me, those perfect luscious lips wrapped around my dick, cemented it.
And on the tail end of that image is one of me returning the favor. Over and over and over.
Jesus Christ. I can practically taste her already.
“All right,” I say, and my voice is a little hoarse. “Then just know, I got it covered. For you.”
“Okay,” she says with a sweet smile. She gestures with her key to the door. “I better get inside.”
You and me both…
Shut the fuck up, Axel.
“…and you better get some sleep,” she adds.
“You too,” I tell her, backing up with my hands in my pockets. “Goodnight, Blair.”
I turn and take the few steps down.
“Sweet dreams, Axel.”
I stop in my tracks and glance back.
Blair gives me a long look and a little smile, then disappears into the house.
I finally let myself groan a little on the way back to my side.
It’s going to be a long night, indeed.
5
Blair
“It’s not a date,” I tell myself for the fortieth time the next day, running a brush through my hair. “It’s not a date.”
This is a logical fact I fully comprehend. Yet, for some reason, I still thought it was a good idea to wear skinny jeans, peep-toe wedges, a sheer, puff-sleeved navy chiffon top with a cute pink floral print, and an olive-green utility jacket. Exactly what I would wear on a date.
“He’s just doing you a favor,” I go on, leaning close to the mirror to swipe on extra-shiny, clear-pink lip gloss. “He doesn’t care about your outfit or your hair or your lip gloss.”
The doorbell rings. I glance at my watch. It’s almost exactly noon.
I grab my bag and hurry downstairs to answer the door, then suck in my breath. He’s wearing his combat uniform, the same uniform I’ve seen on Maddox, the same uniform I’ve seen a million times anytime I go to an Army event put on by his unit. But somehow, it looks different when it’s Axel wearing it. His shoulders fill it out different. It’s pressed and smells clean and makes him look brave and strong, which I know for a fact he is.
I smile up at him. “Hi.”
“Hi.” His blue-green eyes take me in from head to toe. “Wow. You…look so pretty.”
My cheeks heat with pleasure as he chuckles and shakes his head. “Not that you don’t always look pretty. What I meant was, you look beautiful.”
“Thank you,” I tell him.
“You ready?” He steps aside while I pull the door shut behind me and lock it, then I follow him to the truck. On the one-hour drive back to York Bay, we chat about our days. He’s stationed at a different base than Maddox, one that’s about a half-hour drive from Port City.
“I like the commute,” he says with a shrug when I ask. “I listen to podcasts that help me learn things.”
“Like what?”
He lets out a rueful laugh and takes his time answering. “Like…how to manage my anger.”
Does he have an anger problem? “Um. Oh.”
“I don’t have a problem,” he says quickly, “but when I was a little younger and hadn’t come to terms with my parents’ divorce and how my dad pretty much turned his back on us, I was pissed off all the time. I almost got kicked out of the Army over it too.”
“Really?”
“I’ve been in for ten years. This would’ve been about six or seven years ago. But I was overseas, this little ball of rage walking around, and there was an E5 I didn’t get along with. He outranked me at the time—I was an E4. He liked to throw his weight around. One day, he came to my post and started giving me these bullshit assignments. They were bullshit not because I didn’t want to do them—although I didn’t—but because they were clearly targeting me based on his problem with me. And…I ended up suckerpunching him.”
I gape at him.
“Needless to say, I got in a ton of trouble, including facing a dishonorable discharge. But luckily my lieutenant saw something in me that made him have my back and keep me in, and in private he told me in no uncertain terms I better not ever fuck up again. It’s because of him I’m an E7 now.”
“First Sergeant?” One of these days I’ll learn how to read rank patches on the front of uniforms.
He nods proudly. “I’m only twenty-nine. Most soldiers hit their thirties before they see this rank, but I got really lucky, working for the leaders I have. I’ve been given opportunities I honestly had no right to, if you ask me.”
“Well, clearly someone else saw something special in you,” I reply. Just like I do.
“That’s why I try to keep working on myself.” He shrugs. “We all should, but in my case, I really need to make that effort.”
“I think…you’re great,” I say, then wince. “That’s great. I think that’s great.”
He laughs. “So you don’t think I’m great.”
“I-I do,” I admit, blushing.
He glances over at me with a smile. “I think you’re pretty damn great too.”
I bite my lip and smile out the window.
“Is this it?” Axel asks, pulling to a stop in front of my old apartment building.
“This is it,” I say, anxiously chewing my thumbnail. Just being here fills me with dread, recalling the last time I was here. Nancy, my roommate, screaming at her ex, Curtis, who screamed back at her, but because he’s huge, it was much scarier. Then the pushing started. Then I called the cops and got the fuck out of there.
I waited until the cops got there so I could make sure Nancy would be all right and so I could give a statement. They brought Curtis out in cuffs and he looked right at me. He said nothing, but the look on his face told me if he ever got me alone in a dark alley, I’d be in serious trouble.
Thinking of that evil look on his face makes my stomach clench.
“Hey.” He reaches over and gently takes my hand, tugging it away from my mouth. “Come on. I’m with you—I won’t let anything happen to you.”
I told Axel all about what happened over beers a few days ago and having him here with me now brings me a sense of comfort I didn’t expect. “Okay,” I whisper.
He follows me into the building and up to the second floor. I texted Nancy yesterday to let her know I was coming. I feel bad about cutting out of the lease early. But I cannot live in a toxic environment, and I endured it from her and her on-again, off-again asshole for way too long.
I knock on the door. It flies open and Nancy peers out at me.
Her dyed black hair is wild, and there are dark circles under her eyes. She looks paler than normal.
“Hey,” she says, glancing at Axel. “Come on in.”
“This is my friend A
xel,” I tell her.
She eyes him in his uniform. “Hey. Um, Blair, go ahead and get what you need. I’m actually on the way out the door.”
I blink. “Oh. Where are you going?”
Nancy chuckles humorlessly. “Apartment hunting. I can’t afford this place on my own anymore.”
I feel a surge of guilt.
“Leave your key on the counter, and there’s some paperwork there for you to sign,” she says before I can say anything else. “I guess…good luck.”
“You too,” I tell her.
We became roommates by circumstance. I wouldn’t say we became friends, but I do care about her. We share a brief, awkward hug, then she ducks out of the apartment without another word.
“Well, faster we get started, the sooner we can leave,” I tell Axel.
Together, we pack up my room. Luckily, I didn’t have too much, anyway. More clothes and shoes, some books, my laptop. It all fits into two duffel bags and two big cardboard moving boxes.
Axel slings a duffel over his shoulder and hefts one of the boxes like it weighs nothing. “You take care of that”—he nods toward the papers on the counter—“and I’ll start loading up the truck.”
I nod gratefully. “Thank you.”
I listen to his bootsteps thump down the hall and then the stairs. I scan over the paperwork Nancy left me. It’s a copy of our lease agreement that requires my initials on some pages, and a document that indicates the lease is broken.
I’m just finishing signing the paperwork when I hear footsteps coming down the hall toward the apartment. “Just about ready.”
“Where is she?”
My head snaps up, and then my stomach drops.
Curtis hulks in the doorway. His red hair looks greasy and matted, and his pupils are practically the size of his irises. His nostrils flare with rage, and his hands clench into fists.
I don’t need to ask who he means. “She’s not here. She left a while ago.”