by Parker, Ava
Some landlord you make McKenzie.
I put the shirt back in his drawer and tip toe over to his bed. I can’t help but
fantasize about him lying on his bed, on his back, in his boxer briefs, his arms crossed behind his head. I imagine myself clawing at his chest.
No.
I shake the fantasy out of my head.
I walk over towards his bathroom and notice a picture on the nightstand. My stomach sinks and I feel like throwing up, again. It’s a picture of a gorgeous blonde, and I’m talking supermodel gorgeous…She’s got her arm around Cage, both of them in their bathing suits while he’s holding his surfboard.
Now this makes more sense, this is the kind of girl that belongs to him.
Not me.
I notice a name inscribed on the bottom of the frame. The name is beyond familiar. Julia.
Tattoo girl.
I seriously might throw up in my tenant’s apartment. I’m sure that would be a great move.
I try to remember what happened on the beach between us. I felt so much… something. So much something? I’m losing my mind, seriously. Maybe I felt absolutely nothing. Maybe I just wanted to believe in something, anything. Maybe I just wanted to believe in him, just for a few moments. Something’s so refreshing about Cage that makes me feel free… and totally crazy.
Because he’s not my type.
And I’m clearly not his type either. Tattoo girl Julia is definitely his type- they look like they’re on the cover of some stupid fashion magazine.
I really feel like punching her in the face. Or at least smashing this picture on the floor.
Ugh. I hold my head down in disgust, and I’m not even sure who I’m more disgusted with… her, him, or me.
But screw it, I’ve come this goddamn far. I can’t get any lower, right? I continue my snooping fest and head towards Cage’s bathroom. I open the shower curtain and can’t help but picture shampoo rolling off his wet hair and down his tan, muscular back. The shampoo runs even lower, down and across his…
The thought makes my body tingle in places I didn’t even know existed.
I kick off my sandals and step inside the shower. Just for a second, I tell myself. Because somehow, the idea of the two of us together, naked, under the warm drizzle of showering water, makes everything feel okay.
But come on, a fantasy is called a fantasy for a reason. For one, it’s not real. For another, it beats the hell out of reality most times.
I step out of his shower and stand in front of the vanity. I pick up his razor and look at my reflection in the mirror, but I see only a vision of him. He’s staring back at me, shirtless, with a dollop of shaving gel in his hand and a razor in his other. His face is moist, and he’s smiling back at me.
I chuckle to myself, remembering that smile on his face, even when he was being a huge pain in the ass.
I can’t believe the way I acted the other night. It’s no wonder I never get any guys that are actually decent. Every time the slightest thing goes wrong, I freak the hell out, way more so than anyone else would in the same situations.
McKenzie, it’s no wonder that you need your father so much. You seem to have a real knack for screwing things up even when they’re perfectly fine to begin with.
I get a terrible sinking feeling in my stomach.
What did I do this time?
I begin to question everything about the other night. I think I really might have over-reacted. And even if by some miracle Cage was into me, which is almost a scientific impossibility, then he sure as hell isn’t into me anymore.
At least his stuff is still here in the apartment. At least I’ll get to see him again, I think.
I hope.
Unless of course he comes by sometime when I’m at work, grabs all of his stuff, and disappears for good. Anything’s possible, especially with Cage.
And then it hits me. I mean it really hits me. I finally know why I feel the way I do when I’m around him, or at least one of the reasons.
Because being with Cage West makes me feel like anything really is possible.
I drift off into a coma-like state, my eyes wandering aimlessly throughout his apartment as my mind deals with the trauma of what I’ve done. As I come out of my trance, I notice a green canvas bag on top of the kitchen table. On top of the bag is a black and white speckled notebook. It’s hard to tell what it is from the doorway of the bathroom, so I decide to take a closer look.
As I make my way towards his belongings, I stop for one more brief moment, just to make sure that I’m still alone and that he hasn’t returned for some unlucky reason. Not a sound, aside from the overly happy birds that constantly sing as they feed off the birdhouse on our patio, and maybe some distant noises from kids playing in one of the neighbor’s yards.
I make my way to the bag, and the notebook on top. Only it looks a lot more like a journal than a notebook, and it’s overflowing with papers of all different sizes. So I’m left with yet another pivotal moment in the fabulous life of McKenzie Miller, to pry or not to pry.
As I always say, when in doubt, go all out. Okay, I’ve never said that in my entire life. But I also never reached this unbearable level of desperation.
I lick my lips knowing that what I’m about to do is pretty much the most sacrilegious act known to humans. Or any species for that matter. Even the birds flying around on our patio wouldn’t stoop this low.
I shake my head, unable to believe what I’m about to do. Then a compromise dawns on me- maybe just one peek at one of the pieces of paper practically falling out of his book. I grab whatever’s sticking out more than the others, which turns out to be an envelop addressed to Cage. It’s got a return address from San Antonio, Texas. Inside is a letter:
Cage,
I miss you more than words brother. How’s life on the west coast? I bet the ladies are glad to have you back. I had to write to you man. Things just weren’t the same after you left. Not even close. What they did to you was totally wrong dude, pretty fucked up actually. Not fair. But I guess that’s the game, right? Anyways, I’m home now with my wife and boy… And I have you to thank for that. You saved my life brother. I don’t even know what to say to you. I just want you to know that every time I look into my boy’s eyes, I’m going to thank God for you. If you ever need anything, and I’m talking anything, just say the word and I’ll be on the first flight to wherever the hell you are. Take care of yourself for me and stay in touch.
-Eddie
I stand frozen, holding the open letter in my hand. He saved someone’s life. If
Cage was a mystery to me before, I don’t have the slightest clue what to think about him now. And whatever trace of hatred I had because of the whole police thing seems to have completely disappeared. Now I really feel like a total loser for the way I acted at the party.
But then again, what do I expect from myself? Any time I’ve ever had even a remote chance at something good in my life, I always managed to find a way to ruin things. So why would now be different?
Because it has to be, that’s why.
I grip the letter in my hands, my body still frozen, searching every corner of my brain to see how I can make things right. There has to be a way to make this all better, whatever this is. I mean, it’s not like there’s even anything real between us. He’s still not my type, and just because of one letter…
“What the hell are you doing?” Cage comes bursting in from out of nowhere, his eyes fixed on the letter in my hands. “Are you going through my stuff?” he asks. His eyes look different, not the eyes that I’m used to. I can’t believe this is happening right now.
What. A. Mess.
“Cage, I’m sorry. I…”
“You’re sorry?” He shakes his head. “You tell me off the other night and then apparently you think it’s a great idea to go through my shit.”
“Look, I know. This looks real bad. The other night was…”
“This looks bad?” he asks. “I don’t think so McKenzie,
this is bad.” He comes towards me as I start to put the letter back into his book.
“I think it’s a little too late for that, Kenz.” He grabs the book from me and puts it back in the bag.
“I said I’m sorry, alright? What do you want from me?” I ask.
“So you’re mad at me now?” he asks, laughing. “You’re mad at me because I don’t like you snooping around my stuff?” He throws his hands in the air. “That makes tons of sense.”
“I didn’t know if you were coming back. I…”
“So you thought you would just put yourself in charge of my private belongings because of some bullshit excuse that you made up?”
“I didn’t make it up. You took off the other night and I haven’t seen or heard from you since,” I say. Even I recognize the hole I’ve dug for myself.
But I’m determined to get myself out of it.
“Look McKenzie, everything was great the other night. At least I thought it was…” he pauses.
Hold on a second, he thinks everything was great the other night?
Now I’m screwed for sure. Why is he making things so difficult right now?
“Everything wasn’t great the other night, Cage. The police came to my house, remember?”
He shakes his head again. “This is crazy. It’s like you’re determined to be miserable.” He finishes zipping up his canvas bag and throws it on top of the counter. “I’m talking about the beach, Kenz. The beach was great.”
My mind floods with images of Cage and me at the beach that night.
Maybe it was real.
No. I refuse to accept this. He and I, we can’t…
“But then you had to go and freak out on me and tell me to get the hell out of your life,” he says. He starts taking his clothes out of his bureau drawers and tossing them onto his bed. “So no problem, Kenz. No problem at all.”
“What, you’re leaving?” I ask. I can feel the terror rip through my body.
“Yeah, why shouldn’t I? My sketchy landlord’s a psychopath. Or should I say my landlord’s puppet daughter’s a psychopath who…”
“Screw you, Cage,” I shout out at him. “Ya know what, I’m not gonna take this from you. Don’t even bother packing, I’m leaving.” I start to make my way towards his door.
Cage snickers. “You’re leaving your own house?” He laughs.
“Yeah, I’m leaving my own house. I’m done with this shit.” Part of me is fully aware of the fact that I’ve totally lost my mind, but it’s way too late to turn this disaster around at this point.
I open his door and step out, stumbling on the doorway threshold.
“Whatever lady, thanks for the house!” Cage yells out as I storm off towards my car.
My blood is boiling. My head is a giant pile of mush. And to top matters off, I can barely get my car keys out of my jeans pocket.
I can’t believe he called me a psychopath. I mean, I realize the fact that I was going through his stuff was totally insane, but still. A psychopath?
And a puppet? Ouch.
I honestly don’t even know what I’m so upset about anymore. Nothing seems to be making any sense at all. I don’t know if I’m pissed off at him, or worse…
Afraid that he’ll never talk to me again.
I can’t believe I let any of this happen in the first place. I never should have even interacted with Cage West, aside from pure business of course.
And now all I want is to disappear, but I can’t with him here.
I open up my car door and get inside. The door creaks as I slam it shut. I have no idea where the hell I’m even going, I just know it’s too late to undo this huge nightmare.
Time to be strong McKenzie. You can do this.
I can do this. No problem. I put the key in the ignition, take one last look at the house, and turn the key.
No. Goddamn. Way.
The engine won’t start.
My father takes so much pride in having my car in tip shop shape. And here it is, the only time I actually need something from him, and look what’s happening.
Once again, thanks Colonel Miller.
Ugh. I pound my fist on the steering wheel, then I take the key out of the ignition. I blow on the key, which even I know is absurd.
C’mon car, be there for me.
I slowly place the key back in the ignition, and pause.
Another pivotal moment.
I look out through the windshield, just in case. I turn the key.
Still. Not. Starting.
Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit.
I start pounding on the steering wheel with my fist. And now I’m actually saying shit out loud, over and over, like a total crazy person. Maybe he was right, maybe I really am a psychopath. I keep turning the key out of complete frustration. What little sound the engine was making has now disappeared. I turn the key one last time.
Not even the slightest hint of sound.
I collapse my head onto the steering wheel. What am I going to do? Maybe if I just bury my head on the steering wheel all of my problems will magically go away. Isn’t this the time when my fairy godmother’s supposed to show up and make everything all better? I tilt my head to the side and actually begin to take comfort in the steering wheel.
Not a good sign. But then again…
“Ya want some help?”
Cage.
His voice sounds more incredible than ever, but I still can’t seem to peel the side of my face from the steering wheel.
“I don’t mean to interrupt your nap or anything, but you look like you could use my help right now,” he says. I can hear from the creaking sounds that his hands are leaning on the door, just inches away from me.
“I’m fine, really,” I pause, “but thank you.” I can feel the frustration leave my body with every soothing word that pours from his mouth.
“You’re not fine, McKenzie. Pop the hood, will ya?”
I reach down and open the hood, still unable to look up. I can hear Cage fiddling under the hood.
“Your battery needs a boost,” he says. “I’ll pull my car up and grab my jumper cables.”
His kindness is throwing me off. Fighting I can do. Arguing, no problem. Debating, right in my wheelhouse. But dealing with someone who’s trying to help me even after he just caught me breaking and entering into his apartment… I’m totally stumped.
“Hang on Kenz, I’ll be right back.” I listen as the shuffle of his feet on my driveway grows more and more distant. I muster up the courage to peel my head off the steering wheel and sit up straight in my seat.
Cage pulls his car up next to mine and gets out. I look out of the corner of my eye and catch a glimpse of his hips as he walks past me towards the engine of my car.
“Okay, give her a start,” Cage calls out from under my hood.
I turn the key and the engine starts right away.
Cage shuts the hood and walks toward my window. I take a deep breath and look up at him. That crazy beautiful look in his eyes is back.
And I want nothing more than to grab him by his shirt and drive my tongue in his mouth.
But I’ve done enough damage already.
“Thank you,” I say quietly.
“No problem, Kenz.” He cracks a smile that only Cage West can crack. “Any time.”
“Cage, about me going through your stuff, I’m so sorry.”
“Forget about it.” He snickers and leans in closer to me. “I forgive you.”
“For real?” I ask. “It was pretty pathetic.”
“Yeah, it was. I’ll drink to that,” he smirks. “But I’ll take it as a compliment that you couldn’t help yourself from snooping through my things.”
I roll my eyes at him. “I forgot just how highly you thought of yourself,” I laugh as I look away for a moment.
He lightly bangs on the roof of the car. “Anyways, you’re all set to go.”
“Yup, I’m all set to go.” Only now I don’t want to go anywhere. Especially without him. With my foo
t on the break, I put the car in drive. I look up at him one last time.
Our eyes lock, and everything else around me disappears. No sounds, sights, or feelings.
Only us.
Only now I have to start driving because I don’t have the guts to say what I should say right now.
“Thanks again,” I say as I turn my eyes away from his and adjust the rearview mirror. I begin to drive the car out of my u-shaped driveway.
“McKenzie, wait!” he calls out. I step on the break and notice his legs coming towards my side of the car.
He stops in front of my open window. I look over at his belt, then make my way back up to his eyes. “You forgot something,” he says, smiling.
I shrug my shoulders, totally clueless. “What?” I ask.
“You forgot me,” he says. “You feel like having some company?” he asks.
This. Is. Crazy.
“Sure,” I say.
“Great, sounds like a plan,” he says, making a clicking sound with his mouth.
My lips form a smile as he walks around to the passenger side of the car.
Cage gets in my car and gives me a wink. This is one direction I never thought today would go. But as I said, with him, anything is possible.
Anything.
I start driving. I have no idea where we’re going, and I’ve never cared less. Somehow just being together is way more than enough.
“You really are a character, McKenzie Miller,” he shakes his head, gently patting my thigh which makes it almost illegal for me to be driving.
“Oh really, I’m the one who’s a character?” I ask. “You’re the one who decides to stroll into town, rent my apartment, and turn it into a dance club within forty-eight hours.”
He nods his head in silence, but it’s clear he’s deep in thought. “And you’re the one who obviously has no idea what she wants. You want me out, then you want me in, then you want me out, then…”
“Alright, alright already. Listen, not everybody can roam this earth like the Cage West.” I turn on the car radio, which is about the only part of this car I can rely on.
“Hey, you sad it lady, not me.” He smiles, putting his hand outside the window to feel the air on his skin. “After all this drama with you, I’m friggin starving.” He rubs his stomach, making me wish I was his hand more than anything else in this world. “You wanna grab something to eat?”