Huh.
That’s weird, because I know I didn’t imagine that sound.
“Anyone home?” Darcy calls out exactly twenty seconds later.
I smile. She saw me half naked and left, then she came back inside and pretended she just got home. All that to avoid the awkward conversation I’m going to make her have anyway?
On second thought …
I strip out of my boxers too, then I walk out into the living room ass naked, with my clothes casually draped over my shoulder. I smile at her.
“Darcy. You’re home early,” I comment.
Her eyes widen when she sees me, but she recovers fast, giving me a shrug.
“I’m home the same time as every other day,” she murmurs.
Her eyes involuntarily dart downward, then quickly rise as I pull my boxer shorts on. I step into my jeans, and pull them up, winking at her when her eyes meet mine. She shakes her head.
“Why is it, every time I come home, you’re half naked?” she asks, narrowing her eyes.
“Some might say you’re just lucky,” I point out. “And I wasn’t half naked, I was totally naked,” I correct.
“I’d say those people are wrong,” she replies in a sweet voice.
I watch her as she walks upstairs until she’s disappeared from my view. Then I wander back into to the living room, unable to wipe the smile off my face. I toss my shirt over the back on an armchair, just in case she comes back down again.
I wouldn’t want to disappoint her by being dressed.
Chapter Six
Darcy
My first hint that Tuesday was going to suck was when there was no hot water, thanks to a burst main a few streets over. Not showering wasn’t an option, so I froze my ass off for the ten seconds it took me to have the fastest shower in the world.
Things didn’t get much better when I got to work. I sat in on assessments all morning and like always, the client was asked if my being there was okay. This woman said yes, but then ten minutes later, she started freaking out because I was there. She looked at me like she had no idea who I was and then she totally flipped out and demanded that I leave. I did, but she was going right off the deep end, to the point where she had to be sedated. It scared the fuck out of me. I spent the next half an hour pacing the hallway out in front of the interview room, asking myself if I’m cut out for this. I still haven’t figured out the answer.
Every day seems to leave me closer to thinking maybe I don’t want this. I’m only on day five, thanks to my weekend shifts, but the problem is, the longer I spend here, the more trapped I feel. Mom, and now Jim have done so much to help me that I don’t want to disappoint them. Especially now, so close to the wedding.
I smile when I find Linton sitting in my spot.
“Do you mind if I join you?” I ask.
He shakes his head. “Go for it.”
I sigh and sit down next to him, kicking off my shoes so I can dig my toes into the grass. It feels good to be able to relax and not think, because it’s been one of those days where everything has gone wrong.
“Hard day?” he asks.
“You have no idea,” I grumble. “I should’ve listened to my gut and gone with a career that’s boring and straightforward. Like finance. Or stripping.”
“So, why did you choose psychology?” he asks. “Maybe I’m wrong, but you seem to hate it. Every time I see you, which granted, has only been a couple of times, you’re wearing that same pained expression. Is there anything about it that you actually like?” he asks.
“I like messing with people’s minds,” I offer. “Does that count?”
I’m surprised to hear him say that because I really thought I had everyone fooled. Or maybe I’m just not as good at bullshitting as I think I am? I think some more about his question and then elaborate on my answer.
“I chose it as my major because I had no idea what I wanted. And I do enjoy it, I’m just not sure if I enjoy it enough to be doing it in twenty year’s time,” I explain.
“So, do something else, then,” he says, looking at me like I’m crazy. “Seriously, I’ve never understood why people settle for something, when there are so many other options.”
“With a psychology degree and not much else, what exactly are my options?” I tease. “And what if this turns out to be the better option anyway? Besides, who loves what they do all the time?” I add. “Do you?”
“We’re not talking about me, we’re talking about you,” he replies, smirking at me. “And bullshit you have no options. You have plenty of choices aside from this. The question is, what do you want?”
“That’s the problem,” I frown, thinking hard about it. “I don’t know what I want.”
It’s not like I haven’t considered doing something else, but I’ve invested so much time into this that the thought of doing something different scares me, especially when I don’t know what that is.
“Psychology felt like a safe bet, which is why I went with it,” I explain.
“But is safe always the better option?” he asks. “Is it safe to stick with something you’re going to resent in ten years’ time, or is it smarter to change paths now?”
“Now, I guess, but I don’t want the last four years to have been wasted.”
“Sounds to me like you’re too scared to be honest with yourself over what you want,” Linton observes.
“Thanks for that assessment, Dr. Freud,” I tease. “Are you going to charge me for this session? And so what if I’m scared? Does it make me any less right?”
Linton sits forward and sighs as he adjusts his glasses.
“Let me try a different approach. Did you learn anything from your degree?” he asks.
“Yes.” I sigh, not sure where this is headed. “Of course I did.”
“Do you think what you learned could be put into other fields, outside of psychology?” he asks patiently.
“I guess so.” I nod.
“Then look at it that way,” he urges me. “Psychology is such a broad area of expertise, which means it can be applied into almost any field,” he says. “Let’s say you change your mind in five years and do something completely different. With a psych degree under you, how do you think you’ll compare to other applicants when looking for a job?”
“I guess you make a good point,” I admit.
“I usually do,” he says with a wink. “Anyway, I better run. I have a group therapy meeting in a few minutes. They’re always a load of fun,” he says, rolling his eyes.
“Okay,” I say. “Thanks for the talk. You actually helped.”
“Can you say that again and sound a little less surprised?” he teases.
My lunch break almost over, I dig through my bag for my phone when I remember a message from James, from earlier. The last conversation we had was this morning before I went to work.
James: Okay, have fun at work. How’s the job going, by the way?
I’d briefly told him about it, but not enough detail that he could track me down. After the other guy turning up on the doorstep, I didn’t want to take the risk that I had another psycho on my hands. I was pretty sure he wasn’t, but you never really know. Especially with my luck.
Me: It’s great. Most of the time. Except when I hate it. I’m joking…kind of. At least I’ve made a friend, who is coincidentally into the furry scene for real.
James: I’m not shocked. It’s way more common than most people realize. What kind of things do you deal with there?
Me: Mainly things like drug-induced psychosis, substance abuse, addiction, etc.
James: I used to have an addiction to eating soap.
Me: Really?
Yeah: but I’ve been clean for about a year.
I groan and choke back my laughter.
Me: That was a really bad joke.
James: Oh, I’ve got worse. Trust me.
The end of the day cannot come soon enough and at the second that clock hits five, I’m out of there. As I drive home, Linton’s words ke
ep rolling around in my head. He’s right. If I’m ever going to decide to do something else, it should be now and not in ten years’ time. It’s actually kind of exciting, thinking about my future in a new light. I really can do anything.
Now, all I need to do is figure out what I want.
I pull into the driveway, parking behind Cameron’s car. I actually contemplate reversing back out and going over to Sasha’s, just to avoid being alone with him. Having him stay here is torture, because he seems to be going out of his way to get in my way. He’s just as irritating, only now I get to see more of him. I quietly let myself inside, careful not to make a sound. Just when I think I’m getting away with it, I hear my name.
“Darcy?”
I wince and then backtrack the few steps, until I can see Cameron sitting at the kitchen table. He grins at me, the sunlight filtering through the window, hitting his face at such an angle that he looks even sexier than usual. I snap out of my daydream when I realize I’ve been staring at him.
“Yes?” I prompt, raising my eyebrows, as if I’ve been waiting for him to speak.
“I’m having a few friends over for poker tonight if you want to join us?” he asks. His eyes twinkle. “I’m sure Lewis would appreciate not being the first out, for once.”
“Poker on a Tuesday?” I query.
He nods. “Two of the guys work weekends and I’m off anyway. It won’t run late,” he adds.
“Are you sure you want to invite me?” I smirk at him. “Because you’ve got no idea what you’re unleashing. I’m a shark when it comes to poker.”
“I bet you are.” He chuckles. “Anyway, the offer is there. Twenty dollars will buy you in, winner takes all.”
“Great, I could use the extra cash,” I say. “You may as well hand over your twenty to me now. I’ll collect the rest at the door. Hell, why stop at twenty? Too scared to put in more?”
“Confidence is good,” he says, sliding his chair back. “But don’t get too cocky. You haven’t seen how dirty I can play. Besides, if you’re that desperate for money, I can think of a few—”
“Do not even think about finishing that sentence,” I warn him.
I plonk down into the chair opposite him. He smiles at me.
“You look like you’ve had a long day,” he comments.
“I feel like it.”
“If you want to talk about it…” He chuckles when I raise my eyebrows. “No pressure or ulterior motives and no crude comments. I’m offering brotherly advice as your future stepbrother for the next fifteen minutes only,” he says.
He sounds genuine enough, but Cameron has never been this…well, nice to me. Why would he start now, without some kind of underhanded reason? But the idea of some unbiased advice from someone whom I know won’t bullshit me is too alluring to pass up.
“I hate my job,” I confess.
He smiles. “This is the one my father got for you?”
I nod. He chuckles. “Man, if you quit, my father will kill you.”
“He’d really be that upset?” I whisper, a sinking feeling forming in my stomach.
Cameron laughs. “No. I’m messing with you. Honestly? When it comes to shit like that, he’ll support you every step of the way, with whatever you want to do. I changed my major two years into college.” I raise my eyebrows and he nods. “I started off wanting to be like him and study law, but I wasn’t feeling it. If he was okay with his eldest son not following in his footsteps, then I think you’ll be okay.”
I nod. He has no idea how relieved I am to hear him say that.
“So…what is it that you actually do?” I ask him. “Aside from not much? And I don’t mean that in an offensive way,” I quickly add.
He chuckles. “No, I can understand why you’d think I don’t do anything. I’m in property development. I’ll be the CEO of the LA office for one of the biggest commercial property development firms in the country by next week. If they ever get their shit together.”
I stare at him, shocked. At first, I think he must be bullshitting, but there’s no smirk or sign that he’s lying.
“Wow, really?” I ask. “That’s great. I had no idea you were so…” My voice trails off because I don’t want to offend him.
“Successful?” he offers. “I’ll also accept dedicated, smart, talented or passionate.”
“Passionate?” I roll my eyes.
“Hey, I’m passionate about many things.” He grins.
“I bet you are,” I say, getting to my feet. “I should get changed.”
“And maybe squeeze in some last-minute poker practice,” he suggests, his eyes shining.
“Don’t need it,” I say, winking at him. “The only thing I need to figure out is how far I ride you into the ground. Do not even think about responding to that,” I add.
I walk upstairs and down the hallway to my room, closing the door with my foot. I call Sash, because although she’s not much for poker, I know she’ll kill me if there were a group of single guys in the house and I didn’t invite her.
“Tonight? Sure. What time?”
“Come over whenever,” I say. “I’m just getting in the shower. Mom and Jim are out at some charity event tonight, so I’ll probably just order a pizza if you want in.”
“Okay cool. See you soon.”
I text Katie too, even though I know she’ll be busy. She's always busy. I know she's got a lot on between work and her boyfriend, but I feel like we never see each other anymore.
We went from being friends who used to hang out at least a few times a week, to being lucky if we saw each other once a month. I used to be closer to Katie than I was to Sasha, but lately? It’s other way around.
Her text comes through and sure enough, she can’t make it.
Me: Can we catch up soon? I feel like I never see you.
Katie: I know, I'm sorry. I promise we’ll catch up soon.
I have a quick shower and wrap myself in a towel, then I walk to my room,. My phone flashes on my bed. I sit down and smile. Another message from James.
James: Big Tuesday night planned?
Me: Yes actually. I plan on whipping my soon-to-be-stepbrother’s ass.
James: Sounds kinky. And kind of creepy. If it were a stepsister, though, it would be hot.
Me: Of course it would be. And we’d have pillow fights and practice our kissing.
James: I feel like you’re messing with me.
Me: Maybe a little ;)
James: So you and the older stepbrother don’t get along?
Darcy: He’s okay, he’s just so cocky and full of himself. The whole world revolves around him.
Me: Ah. One of those people.
Darcy: Yep. I’m looking forward to showing him up.
James: He sounds like hard work.
Me: A total pain in the ass.
James: And about that shower …
Me: What shower?
James: Cough* pics *cough.
Me: In your dreams.
James: Every night. Only I have no idea what you look like, so I have to picture Betty White
Me: Betty White?
James: Yeah, from The Golden Girls?
Me: Gross, she is in her nineties now!
James: Obviously I don’t picture her NOW… I mean her Golden Girl’s era. She was so much hotter at seventy. Anyway, it does the job, until I get some better material.
Me: You pretty much just admitted that if I send you a pic, you’ll jack off to it…
James: If that’s the worst thing you took from that entire conversation, then I’m worried about you.
Laughing, I glance at the time.
Shit.
If I don’t hurry up, Sash is going to be downstairs, alone with Cameron and his friends, which would be disastrous. It’s not that I don’t trust her…actually, yes, that’s exactly it. I don’t trust her. Nothing comes between Sasha and single men, so I don’t doubt for a second that she’d do whatever she had to do in order to break the ice, no matter how embarrassing or s
hameful it might be.
I quickly change into a pair of jeans and choose a fitted purple shirt with a very low cut front to pair with it. I run a brush through my dark hair, leaving it down, then I throw on some mascara and lip gloss. I’m not sure why I’m so intent on looking my best, or why I have a gnawing feeling in the pit of my stomach that I only get when I like someone, but I choose not to think too hard about it. If I don’t read into it, then it’s not a problem.
I give myself one more look over in the mirror, then I bound down the stairs, two at a time. Cameron looks up from the table in the dining room, where he sits with two other guys.
Wow. A real, genuine smile from Cameron Hunter.
Just as quickly, it’s replaced with a smirk, but it was there all the same. Our chat today was more than I’d spoken to him previously, combined. It was nice to see another side to him.
“I hope it’s okay that I invited a friend?” I ask.
“Only if it’s the hot one.”
Mack?
I groan as he saunters over from the fridge with a can of soda. He sits at the table and grins at me. If I’d known he was going to be here, I would have warned Sash. She’s going to kill me.
“Aren’t you too young to gamble?” I ask.
He winks at me. “I won’t tell if you won’t.” Then he pauses. “Actually, that goes for many things that society may frown upon me doing with you. Or to you.” He pauses again. “Or your hot friend.” He grins at me and raises his eyebrows. “Or both of you...”
Cameron chuckles. “Keep your pants on Don Juan, or you’ll have to leave the table.”
“Don who?” Mack mutters, shaking his head.
Sasha texts me that she’s here, and then five seconds later, the doorbell rings. I let her in, leading her back into the dining room, where I introduce her to the guys. Well, to Cameron at least. She’s already met Mack, and Cameron’s friends I haven’t even met.
PAYBACK’S A BITCH Page 7