by Celeste, B.
His head bobbed once. I accepted it and swung my legs as he grabbed a couple plates and set them on the table. “I found a show I think you’d like. It’s all about King Tut and his rule over Egypt.”
He turned to me with drawn eyebrows. I sighed, relenting. “Okay, so maybe you won’t like it, but I will. You’ve never been into those kinds of TV shows which I’ve never understood. They’re so interesting.”
His chuckle made me smile. “Like I told you before. I’ll watch whatever you want, Della, I just want to spend some time with you.”
“And what if that time was spent not watching television?” I asked carefully, gauging his reaction.
When his eyes darkened with lust, I knew he was fine with that idea too. I bit my bottom lip and watched him come over to me, planting his hands on either side of my body before leaning in until his lips nearly grazed mine. “You just had to say that didn’t you? Get my cock hard just before dinner to make it uncomfortable to sit through.”
I exhaled shakily, feeling dampness settle between my legs. “We could skip dinner.”
He groaned, kissing me lightly and then drawing my bottom lip into his mouth. I wanted the kiss to go longer, deeper, but he didn’t allow it. Instead, he drew back enough to rest his forehead against mine. “You need to eat, Della. So do I. But don’t think I won’t lay you down on that table afterwards and eat you out for dessert.”
“Theo.”
His laugh was husky and deep. “You asked for it, sweetheart. I’m happy to oblige. Now get that perfect ass off my counter and help finish setting the table. Quicker we eat, quicker we can get naked.”
I laughed and obeyed, yelping when his hand slapped my butt as I walked past him to grab the silverware.
I liked this version of Theo.
I hoped it lasted.
My body was content as I rolled my yoga mat up after another session. Today was exceptionally relaxing, something I needed since my muscles seemed to coil over the course of the week. I didn’t know why because things were…good. Almost too good, like I was waiting for the shoe to drop and ruin everything.
Dinner at Theo’s last week had led to kissing, heavy petting, and eventually sex. Good sex. The kind that made my toes curl just to think about. If there was one place I didn’t think I’d have Theo besides my fantasy, it was inside me. And that was where he belonged and made sure I knew it. On the table. On his couch. He’d tired me out but sated me in a way that I still felt it deep in my soul.
I loved Theo West. I really did.
I felt Tiffany’s eyes on me as I stood and collected my belongings. “We start on Saturday, you dreamy-eyed bitch.”
I blinked. “Uh…?”
Her eyes rolled as she propped her mat under her arm and gestured toward the door. I adjusted my bag and followed her out, waving at a few people who said goodbye. I’d found solace again in coming to these classes. I had Tiffany to thank for that since she kept her word and dragged me out twice to ensure I wouldn’t ditch even though I had no plans to. “You’re going to come to my place Saturday morning. Your body is more limber, but we’ll do the same warmups we used to in dance before we start anything just to make sure. You’re out of practice, but I’ll go easy on you.”
“Tiff—”
“Nope.” She grinned, bouncing to a stop with a cocky look on her face. “You’re opening up and making progress. And whoever got between your legs is definitely helping with your moods because I know when people get some. You’re glowing.” My red face must have been amusing because she snorted. “Stop being all shy, nobody here is listening. I’m just saying, I might even be a little jealous. You’ve been smiley all week. It’s kind of gross, but I’m happy for you. And I’m not blowing smoke up your ass about the progress you’ve made, I’m being real. I can tell you’re not in your head as much. There’s something lighter in your walk. You engage with more people when we’re out instead of avoiding them. That’s something, Della.”
I wasn’t sure about that, but I did try putting aside my problems when I was with my friends. Lately, that was Ren and Tiffany. We’d meet up on campus, help each other study, or grab something to eat at the Hut or some other eating establishment close by, before heading to one of Ren’s games. Turned out, Tiffany loved sports. A lot. She yelled louder than I did when he hit a homerun. Then again, maybe it was just because her thoughts about Ren were much different than mine.
With finals right around the corner, I knew I needed to get my head in the game. That meant not worrying about what Theo was thinking when it came to us. Instead, I had to focus on passing Ribbons’ class since I’d gotten a C- on my exam and making sure I proved to her I was more than my last name, and being Tiffany’s puppet since she was adamant on me dancing with her. I wasn’t sure why she was so keen on getting me to start again, but she promised she wouldn’t pressure me to talk to Judith. I believed her, even if a part of me was hesitant. She’d proven to be a good friend, maybe even better than I offered her considering she didn’t know a lot about me, but it was something.
Blowing out a breath, I relented to her demand because I knew I wouldn’t have much else of a choice otherwise. “What time?”
She beamed. “Nine too early?” We both knew we’d had earlier days when we danced together at Judith’s. “You have my address still, so just come on over. My studio is in the backyard. It’s a converted pool house.”
I blinked, sometimes forgetting she came from money. She didn’t act like most other people did when their families were well off. Then again, had she ever? She always wanted to work as a cosmetologist, and the reason she didn’t was probably because of how she was raised. It made me think about Sophie’s lectures to me growing up.
“You don’t need to work, darling. Just look at your mother. She stopped when she met your father.” But she hadn’t. My mother was a well-known interior designer who did leave her job, but it was to pursue charity work with non-profits. It kept her busy, busier than when she worked for a living.
I nodded. “Fine. But—”
“Nope. I’m not going to listen to self-doubt or boring excuses. You’ve got this.” I glared at her as she winked. “Oh, and we’re going out tonight. Thank your boy toy for that, he kept bugging me to tell you about it.”
“But—”
“What did I say?” she cut me off again, making me groan loudly. “Listen, since yoga was moved to today, that means we have all tomorrow to recover from a hangover. We both need to have fun.”
She must have forgotten that Sunday brunches were a thing with Sophie. Tiffany couldn’t stand my aunt, a lot of people couldn’t. But unlike those people, Tiff didn’t hide it.
“I don’t want to go out and have fun.” What I wanted was to sit in my living room with my favorite popcorn and binge watch new episodes of Mysteries at the Museum like the nerd I was. Maybe even text Theo. Okay, I was definitely doing that, even if part of me said to hold off. I liked seeing his texts first, knowing he was thinking of me. Like the one he sent this morning of him and Ramsay. He was making a face at the camera while the dog licked him, and all the caption said was good morning from your two favorite men.
My heart had melted a little right there on my kitchen floor while I grabbed a protein bar from my cupboard before leaving.
“Which is your problem.” Her laugh drew people’s attention, making me elbow her as we started toward the sidewalk. “I’m trying to be your friend, Della. Even Ren said you needed to get out and enjoy yourself more.”
I eyed her. “Since when do you and Ren talk when I’m not around?”
She shrugged. “He annoyed me at first, but he’s grown on me like a fungus. Even though he called me a bitch.”
Cringing, I shot her an apologetic look. He did call her that when they first met. And what did she do? Shrugged, said she’d been called worse, pulled out an apple from her backpack, and hung out with us at the Hut while we had coffee between classes.
“Yeah, sorry about that.”
Tiffany snorted. “He’s honest. Not a lot of guys are. Anyway, it isn’t like we paint each other’s nails and trade secrets about you. We just happened to exchange numbers and he told me that we were going out because you needed it.”
That was a classy way of saying Ren needed to get out and find a new toy to play with, but I didn’t tell Tiffany that. If they were friends now, she’d learn it soon enough. Unless… “Are you into Lawrence?”
She stopped walking, giving me a twisted face, but the apples of her cheeks were red. “No! I told you we’re friends. Just friends.”
I studied her for a moment before finally nodding. What else could I do? It wasn’t really my business, even if they were both my friends. Whatever they chose to do was on them. “I was curious. I get it, trust me.”
“What does that mean?”
Licking my bottom lip, I shot her a timid look with my own face flushed. “Ren and I…”
Her eyes widened. “What?” It came almost like a shriek that had me blushing harder in return.
Swiping a hand through my hair, I nodded and looked around us as we walked back to my building. “Yeah. We were teenagers. Experimenting, you know? He was my first.”
“Were you his?”
“He says I was, but I have my doubts.” It wasn’t something I dwelled on anymore, but at the time I was a little hurt by it. Ren told me he wanted to share our firsts together for a long time, which made me think he’d been serious. But I saw how he acted around other girls at school, heard the talk and gossip from them. After we had sex, it felt like I was just another notch on his bedpost. I told myself it wasn’t true. But now?
“You okay?” Tiffany’s voice was quiet, considerate of my once scorned teenage feelings.
I gave her my best smile. “Yeah. It was a long time ago. I don’t regret what happened between us. We’re obviously still close and I trust him to be a great friend. Anything else? No. No offense to him, but he’s…Ren.”
We both laughed at that. Even though the three of us hadn’t hung out for long, it didn’t take much to get to know Ren and his ways. Did that make me love him any less? No. Like Tiffany, Ren was unapologetically himself. That was probably why they got along so well.
“When am I being forced to socialize?” I asked, holding the door open for her.
“He said he’d group text us.”
Ren’s group texts were over the top because he knew it annoyed me. He’d blow up everyone’s phones if we weren’t quick enough or because he was bored. Making a face, I headed toward the stairwell off to the side. Tiffany stopped me. “Can’t we take the elevator for once? I’m lazy.”
“You’re the thesaurus’s antonym of lazy. Come on. If I’m being forced out, then you have to suck it up and walk five flights with me as punishment.”
The noise she made had me grinning as she followed behind me. “I don’t understand why you’re so terrified of elevators. Do you know the statistics of people actually getting trapped or dying in them?”
I paused. “No. Do you?”
“No, who do you think I am? Hermione? I figured your ridiculous fear would make you able to spit out some random fact about it.”
I speared her with a look before admitting, “My mom was afraid of them too. I think it’s drilled in my head by default.”
She blinked. “Oh.”
Shrugging, I ran my hand on the stairwell railing and let the silence fill the air as we made our way up to my floor. When I unlocked the door to my apartment, Tiffany followed me in quietly and turned as soon as the lock clicked back into place.
“What was it like?” she asked, making my brows draw up.
“What was what like?”
She hopped onto the counter, her legs dangling next to where my purse and keys rested beside her. “Your life after your mother passed. It had to be hard, but it seems like you grew up okay. Until…well, you know.”
“My father got arrested?”
The sympathy on her face made me embarrassed. “You mentioned that your family was always close, so I can’t imagine what it was like. I always took what the media said for its word, which was stupid. Everybody knows the media purposefully bends the real story.”
“Why do you want to know?” I walked over to the fridge and grabbed a bottle of water for each of us. Passing one to her, I waited for an answer.
“You don’t talk about it.”
“I do.” Not to you. I didn’t see Ripley as much for therapy sessions, but at least once or twice a month I would make appointments and go talk to her. Sometimes she would call to check in, but I didn’t always answer. I was doing well. Or, well enough. She knew it, and she knew if I really needed to, I’d call her in case of emergency. In case I… My hand went to my stomach, knowing the scar was still there on my skin.
Tiffany watched me with pinched brows until I caved. “It was hard. My mother meant the world to me, and as far as I know, she didn’t know what my father did. The evidence showed he’d been involved with the state scandal for a long time and impacted a lot of people. I mean, how could my mom not know? She was a smart woman, Tiff.”
“But you don’t know that for sure.”
“True, but I think about it all the time.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t,” she reasoned. “I know you love your mom, so what good would it do to think she was involved in it if it changes how you feel? You can’t change what happened.”
She had a point. Ripley told me the same thing once upon a time, but it didn’t stop me from thinking about it.
“I know.”
“Your mother was a sweet person.”
“I know, Tiffany.”
“So…?”
Sitting on the stool beside her, I uncapped my water and took a sip. “I can’t just say I’m not going to not think about it. That only makes me want to know the truth more.”
“But you won’t.”
“I know.”
She eyed me. “This is exactly why we need alcohol. You won’t think about it when you’re filled with tequila.”
My stomach churned. “No tequila.”
“Boring.”
“You’re bor—” My phone rang, making me glance down at the screen to see Sophie’s name on the screen.
“Oh.” Tiffany jumped down. “I’m going to wash up and change if that’s cool with you. Good luck with that.” She knew I wasn’t that close with my aunt, so she walked away to give me privacy.
“Hi, Sophie.”
“Adele,” she greeted. “I was reaching out about tomorrow. Lydia said she was going to be in town and wanted to join us for our brunch.”
Lydia rarely did that, so it perked me up. Though, I wasn’t sure why she was telling me. “I would love to see her. It’s been a while.” A while meaning my father’s funeral.
“Oh. Well, I’m glad then.”
Why did she sound like she wasn’t? “Is there something wrong? I know you aren’t close to Lydia, but—”
“Oh, stop. Who says I’m not?”
My lips parted to list the amount of times she’d made it clear that her half-sister was just that. Half. As in, not her full responsibility. Lydia and my father were the closest of the three of them because he didn’t treat her different.
“You know what, don’t answer that.” Her voice was tight. She knew what she’d done to her sister over the years, I didn’t need to tell her. “So, normal time then? There’s a lot to catch up on I’m sure.”
I wanted to ask her why she never tried to get along with her sister. Half or not, they shared blood. They lived together. Lydia’s mother wasn’t alive, so she understood my life better than anybody. Sophie? Not so much, and she never tried pretending she did.
“Same time. And Sophie?”
She hummed.
I debated on asking her what I never did about Lydia and her, but I chickened out when I saw Tiffany walk out of the bathroom with her hair down and a brow arched at me. “Never mind. I’ll see you two tomorrow.”
When
I hung up, I frowned at my phone before setting it down.
“How’s the Dictator?” Tiff asked, drinking the water I’d given her.
“I wish you’d stop calling her that,” I grumbled, even if she weren’t totally wrong. “She means well. Most of the time.”
Tiffany was disbelieving, but she didn’t say anything about it. Instead, she moved on. “I think you need another makeover. At least temporarily for the night.” Making a face, I began trying to convince her otherwise when she shook her head. “It’s a night out to not think. We both might as well look good doing it.”
Scoffing, I said, “Like you have any trouble looking good even on your worst days. I remember when you came to dance with the flu and you still looked hot.”
“I looked like Rudolph.”
“A sexy Rudolph.”
She laughed. “Agree to disagree. But don’t act like you don’t look good daily either. Just because you don’t think so doesn’t mean it’s not true. Guys turn their heads when you walk into a room.”
I frowned. “Because of what happened.”
“Because you’re beautiful, Della.”
Lips parting, I debated my answer. Throat thick, I said, “We’ll agree to disagree.”
We just stared at each other.
The floral perfume was the first sign that both my aunts were already here. Lydia loved lavender and lilac and she always smelled like fresh-cut flowers and summertime. It was both her and my father’s favorite season, and my father always admitted he loved lilac which was why I’d give him candles in that scent every year for his birthday even when people poked fun of him because of it.
I saw Sophie before my absentee aunt, her body rigid in the seat, one leg crossed over the other like how she always sat. When I walked further into the room, Lydia came into view. She was the opposite of Sophie and my father—light hair like mine, light eyes like her brother, and a fuller face unlike Sophie and my father’s defined jawlines. She didn’t sit with as much tightness, but casually with her hands resting on the arms of the chair whereas Sophie’s were on her lap.
“You’re late,” Sophie stated, standing up and flattening out her dress. “The food was ready fifteen minutes ago.”