I Do(n't)

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I Do(n't) Page 14

by Leddy Harper


  He snickered and pulled me closer to his body, where I tucked my face into the space below his chin and pretended I was invisible. And while we stood there on the side of the road, he wrapped his arms around me and began to rub my back in soothing circles. “At this point in time, I could literally make half a dozen assumptions, and any one of them could be accurate. I understand you don’t want to talk about it, and it’s none of my business, but I’m really interested in the reason why a dildo just fell out of your glovebox.”

  I groaned again, this time out loud. His shirt absorbed most of it, the material holding in the heat of my breath and warming my face like I sat too close to a fire. “I bought it at the mall yesterday.”

  “And you couldn’t wait to use it?”

  “No.” I pushed away from him and huffed. “I opened the package while I was at the baseball field last night because I wanted to see it. I’ve never had one before. I didn’t use it,” I added, feeling as though it needed to be said. “I saw movement in my side mirror, and I freaked out, so I tossed it on the floor. It must’ve rolled under the seat because when I got home, I couldn’t find it, and I didn’t want to stand out in the driveway all night looking for it. There was a dog barking and it freaked me out. I had all intention of getting it today, but then forgot all about it until you said we had to take my car. I didn’t exactly have much time, so as soon as I found it, I shoved it in the glove box, assuming you wouldn’t look in there. Why the hell would you look in there? Honestly, what are the odds you’d open the glove box?”

  His laughter rippled through his chest. “So there’s no mystery guy?”

  “Really? A purple vibrator nearly fell into your lap just now, and all you’re worried about is if I’m seeing someone? No. I’m not. I’m hard up and desperate for an object that runs on batteries.”

  His hands floated down to my hips where he held me tight, digging his fingertips into my flesh hard enough to possibly leave bruises. When my gaze met his, the world quit spinning and I feared I’d float away. The lack of judgment in his calming green orbs ignited a fire within me.

  And suddenly, it was as though the earth no longer had any oxygen.

  He lowered his forehead to mine, not once breaking eye contact, and whispered, “There’s no need to be embarrassed. We all do it, so pretending we don’t is just silly.”

  “Is this supposed to make me feel better?”

  “That’s the goal, yeah. Is it working?”

  “Not until the evidence of you doing it falls at my feet.” If only I hadn’t been staring into his eyes before I made that proclamation, I just might’ve been able to hear it in my head before ever allowing those words to tumble out of my mouth.

  His huffed mirth burst across my face in a rush of air. “If you really want me to…”

  “Forget I said that.” I turned my head and pushed out of his hold, finally giving in and allowing myself to laugh at…myself. “Come on. Let’s go home.”

  He made it around the front of the car, back to the passenger side, but as I turned to climb back in, my heel must’ve skimmed a rock and I went down. In order to protect my knees from landing on the street, I extended my arms in a thoughtless attempt to catch my fall, and immediately felt the burn in my palms. A split second after the sting tore through my hands, a bone-deep throb shot up my shin from my ankle. I twisted around to sit on my bottom and pressed my back against the front tire so I could pull my leg to my chest.

  No matter how much pain radiated through my body, I held in the sobs. With my eyes squeezed closed and my teeth gritted together, I lowered my forehead to my knee and fought to maintain control of my breathing. Then, what seemed like hours later, I heard my name called out in panic. It was rough and cracked and desperate, and it sank into me.

  Holden came around the car again and knelt in front of me. “What the hell happened?”

  I rested the back of my head against the car and took several long, slow, deep breaths. “I think I twisted my ankle. I stepped on something and my foot went one way and my leg went the other. It hurts so bad, Holden.”

  Wordlessly, he slipped one arm behind my back and the other beneath my knees, encouraging me to wrap my arms around his neck so he could lift me bridal style. With every step around the hood to the passenger seat, where he carefully set me down and buckled me in, I fought against the tears. Yes, my ankle hurt, but I was also embarrassed—even more so than before—and just wanted this day to end. But thankfully, I didn’t have to worry about anything. Holden took care of it all.

  He drove me home, holding my hand the entire time, and then carried me inside, where he placed me on the couch while he pulled an ice pack from the freezer and a few pain relievers from the cabinet. Then he came to sit next to me, settled my legs in his lap, and proceeded to be my hero.

  “What in the world made you wear high heels?” His fingertips lightly traced my foot while it rested on a pillow over his thighs. The TV was on, yet neither of us watched it. Instead, we kept our attention focused on each other.

  “They were on sale and I thought they were cute—which they are, but it seems I’m not meant to wear them. I’m much happier in flats. You know…closer to the ground.”

  He pulled back the ice and winced. “It’s ugly. It doesn’t seem like you broke anything, but it’s swollen and quickly turning colors. You need to keep it elevated tonight, and probably stay off it tomorrow.”

  “This is going to suck. You’re going to be at work, and I’ll be stuck here all alone, the cripple, unable to take care of myself.”

  “I’ll see if Christine can come over and keep you company.”

  “Oh, joyous. Just what I’ve always wanted…a babysitter.”

  “Stop. I’m sure if you quit assuming everyone is against you, you’ll probably start to see how much everyone enjoys being around you. Christine loves you. And the best part about that is she doesn’t have to. She’s not your sister and didn’t grow up with you. She wants to be around you because she chooses to. Take a step back and you’ll see the truth.”

  I waited a moment and watched him. He had his head reclined, eyes on the ceiling fan in the center of the room, and I found myself desperate to know what went through his mind. “Are we okay, Holden? You seemed upset today at dinner, but I don’t know what I did wrong.”

  “You didn’t do anything wrong,” he responded, but he didn’t look at me.

  “Then what happened?”

  “I don’t know. I wish I had an answer for you but I don’t. I guess the thought of you hanging out with me all day yesterday before meeting up with some guy for sex bothered me. I can’t tell you why because it doesn’t make sense.”

  My chest tightened with anticipation, praying he’d admit he was jealous, which only confused me more. “You know, I’m sure the next five and a half months would be a lot easier if we stopped fighting each other. If we called a truce and stopped trying to one up the other, maybe we might understand our feelings better.”

  His head fell to the side, and he locked eyes with me. “Like actually be friends again? For real and not pretend just to keep the other person from doing something crazy?”

  “That’d be nice, right?”

  “Yeah. I think so. Plus, that way, after our time is up and you get your divorce and gameshow prize money, we might want to hang out like normal people.” He squeezed my good foot and offered a strained grin. “My biggest fear has always been that this would end and we’d have nothing to show for it. Because had I known when I knocked on your hotel door after the wedding that what we did that night would end our friendship, I would’ve gone straight to my own room.”

  My heart swelled at his honest, raw, and kind thoughts. Although, it also fissured, knowing that no matter what, at the end of our arrangement, we would end. I wasn’t sure why that bothered me, considering that had been my purpose in coming here. That had been my reason for agreeing to live with him, and it’d been the only thing I had thought about since hearing the news.

/>   I wanted a divorce.

  I wanted to end what we never had the chance to begin.

  And knowing I’d get it broke my heart.

  10

  Holden

  Ronnie sat on the edge of my desk after reading through an email she’d received and asked how I wanted her to proceed. Matt was off for the day, so everything seemed to land on my plate, and as if that wasn’t enough, I’d somehow gotten stuck to her. Literally. As in the button on my shirt sleeve became attached to her skirt, and the more I pulled, the worse it got.

  Apparently, things hadn’t quite gotten bad enough, so the universe decided to choose that moment for Janelle to walk into my office. Of all the days, of all the times, she chose now to come visit me for the first time.

  I glanced up, mouth hanging open in shock—and burning irritation. Ronnie peered over her shoulder, and Janelle froze, her gasp ringing out in the room. I didn’t even get her name out of my mouth before she turned and fled out the doorway.

  “Fuck it,” I grumbled and tore my arm away from Ronnie’s skirt, effectively ripping the button off my sleeve. “Janelle, wait.”

  We caught up with her in the hallway—her limp came to my advantage—and I grabbed her forearm to keep her from retreating.

  “I didn’t mean to interrupt anything.” Aside from the apologetic tone in her voice, I could also pick up on the testiness. “The door was open so I didn’t think to knock. I’ll leave you two alone.”

  “Janelle, wait. Come back to my office. You came here for a reason, right?” That’s when I noticed the bag in her other hand, and by the logo on the side, I knew it was food from my favorite deli down the street. “You brought me lunch? In that case, you’re definitely not leaving.”

  “But what about…?” She turned her attention to Ronnie, whose smile gave away that she enjoyed this a little too much.

  “Don’t worry about me,” Ronnie practically sang. “I’ll be running off now. Enjoy your lunch.”

  Knowing Janelle would have a plethora of questions and more than a few vengeful statements on the tip of her tongue, I dragged her back to my office and closed the door behind us. “I had no idea you were coming up here.” I sat in the seat next to her on the front side of my desk. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

  Even though we were the only ones in the room, her cheeks still turned pink and she refused to meet my gaze. “I was out running a few errands and noticed the time. I wasn’t too far away from the office, and when I realized that I’d never seen where you and Matthew work, I thought I’d check it out. I knew he wasn’t here today—therefore, I figured this would’ve been the best time to come so he wouldn’t ask questions.”

  “What do you mean ask questions? About what?”

  “You know…like why I’m here, what’s going on between us. That sorta thing.”

  “Janelle, you live with me. I think it’s safe for you to bring me lunch at work or come see my office. We don’t have to be in a romantic relationship for you to do that. Friends visit each other at work all the time. And have lunch together.” The more I talked, the darker her cheeks became. “Has anyone said anything to you already?”

  “Not really. Last weekend at my parents’ house, Nikki had assumed we were more than friends—that’s where the whole mystery man came from. She said I had a glow and concluded it was you who put it there, and as soon as I told her we were just friends, everything spiraled.”

  I leaned back in my chair, slouching almost, and glanced down at the bag of food sitting next to her feet, which brought my attention to her ankle, reminding me of the slight limp she still had. Grabbing her leg by the calf, I directed it to my lap so I could take a closer look at it. There was still a little discoloration, but the swelling had almost all gone away.

  “It’s good to see you in sandals again,” I teased after taking off her flip-flop.

  She shook her head but huffed in laughter. “Yeah, I’ve accepted I’m just not meant to be sexy.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  Janelle gestured to the door and shook her head. “Like Veronica. She makes heels with jeans look like sex on a plate. Obviously, that’s what guys go for. I can’t pull that off. I’m a jeans with flip-flops kinda girl, and I guess I always will be.”

  I ran my hand over the top of her foot and up her shin, mesmerized by how smooth her skin was. Her feet seemed so tiny, even though I knew they were probably average, and her red toenails made them look dainty and unbelievably sexy. When I glanced up and met her stare, I realized I’d grown lost in her feet. I might’ve been embarrassed had it been anyone else, but this was the same girl I once caught stuffing her bra with water balloons.

  “Jelly,” I said with a grin, knowing she would assume I was teasing her, but I wasn’t. “If you ask me, I prefer flip-flops on a woman. If I see someone dressed like you, I know they can hang. Whereas if I meet someone in jeans and heels, I would assume they’re high maintenance. And for me, personally, I don’t want someone who has to spend hours getting ready to go out. Or someone who can’t leave if it’s raining because of what it’ll do to her hair. I like laidback.” My words bounced around in my head, and I realized what I’d said, so I quickly tried to cover. “And I’m almost positive I’m not the only one.”

  She blinked at me as if I spoke in tongues. “You don’t like people like Veronica?”

  “I mean, I like them. I would just never choose to date them.”

  Her wide eyes swung from the door to me, back to the door, before finally settling on me. “So…is she only a booty call or something? I guess I got the impression she was more than that. Spending the night? I’d never sleep over at a guy’s house if we were only hooking up. And I’d certainly never go to their office.” She must’ve realized where she was, because she shook her head and waved me off. “Well, you know what I mean.”

  I couldn’t help but laugh, and the more I did it, the quieter she became. When it turned into bellowing chuckles, she squinted her eyes and silently willed me to answer her unasked questions, her confusion coloring her entire face.

  Yet, I decided to have a bit more fun before I gave in. “Oh, I’m not interested in Veronica.”

  “But she…” Her eyes moved to my desk, where Ronnie and I had been stuck together when Janelle had first walked in, then she glanced back at me. “And she spent the night a couple of weeks ago. Unless you lied to me.”

  I held my right hand up, as if taking a pledge. “I didn’t lie to you. She did stay over that night.”

  “Oh.” Her brows arched, her mouth rounding to mimic her gasped word. “I guess I just thought that meant you guys were…” She shook her head. “Never mind. What you do in your time—and on your desk—is your business.” She tried to pull her foot from my lap, but I held on and refused to let it go.

  “What do you think happened on my desk, Jelly?” I cocked my head and raised an eyebrow.

  “I honestly have no idea, nor do I care to hear.”

  “My button was stuck to her skirt.”

  “Like I said, Holden…I don’t care. It’s none of my business. And I think you know me well enough to know I won’t tell Matthew about it, either. What you do here when he’s gone is on you. You both own this place, and—”

  “She works here, Janelle.”

  That seemed to stop her. After blinking a few times, she asked, “Veronica works here? What is she? Wait, no. You know, I said I’d stay out of it, but if we’re really friends, I feel like I should give you some advice. Take it or leave it, that’s up to you, but I strongly suggest you not get involved with people who work for you. Aside from it being messy, there’s a whole legal thing I’m sure you don’t want to deal with.”

  “She’s the office assistant.”

  “Regardless of what she is—” As if just now realizing the words we’d both spoken, she abruptly stopped and shook her head. “The office assistant? What happened to Ron…or Ronald, or whatever his name was? And does Christine know about her?


  “Yes. And Christine loves her very much.”

  “Again…what happened to Ron?”

  I smirked and leaned closer. “Janelle, do you mean Ronnie?” I waited for it to click in her head, but I apparently had to spell it out for her. “Veronica?”

  Finally, with the added emphasis on that one syllable, Janelle got it. “Really? This whole time I’ve imagined an older, balding, fat guy named Ron. And that’s who it’s been all along? I feel bad for any girl you end up dating…having to worry about that sex kitten while you’re at work. Knowing at any point she could be in here, perched on your desk with your hand up her skirt…pretending your button got stuck.”

  I held up my arm to show her the sleeve, which had thread hanging and an empty button hole. “It really was stuck. I had to rip it off in order to break away from her to come after you and my lunch.”

  “Sounds tragic.” She seemed bored, but I told myself it was because she didn’t believe me. And I pretended she didn’t because she was jealous of Ronnie. And then I lied to myself and said I didn’t care if she was envious or not.

  “Any woman I date never has to worry about me cheating on them with Ronnie.”

  “Why? Are you that much of an asshole that you’d have her fired?”

  “No. They just wouldn’t have to worry about that. If anything, I’d have to worry about Ronnie hitting on them.” When she turned her confused eyes at me, I couldn’t hold back the widening grin stretching my lips. It was time to end the charade of Ronnie and my pseudo-sexual relationship. “She very much prefers your gender.”

  “Veronica? She likes women?” It was as if I could hear the wheels turning in her head. “But she slept in your room.”

  “Yeah, like I said…high maintenance. Trish, her wife—significant other, better half, whatever you want to call her—has an issue with Ronnie’s spending habits and got mad over her purchasing a pair of shoes, so she came over to give Trish time to cool off. It’s happened more times than either of us cares to admit.”

 

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