Tainted Black

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Tainted Black Page 21

by Shanora Williams


  She slid in closer, resting her head on her folded arm. “Well,” she grinned, “I’m glad I can make you feel so enamored.” Her grin was contagious. “Speaking of, what happened with Izzy and the wreck?”

  “Oh.” I rubbed my jaw. “I’m letting her drive my Charger until I get her another. Told her she can get a new one.” I cocked a stern brow. “Found out she lied about the summer camp shit.”

  She gasped, as if she had no clue about it. I could read her like a book, plus I was certain Izzy had already told her. “She did?”

  “Don’t play crazy, Chloe. I know she told you.”

  She sealed her lips, fighting a laugh. “Well, she’s my friend Theo,” she whined playfully, moving in closer. “I had to cover for her. Keep my promise.”

  I grunted, trying hard not to join in on the bubbly laugh she let out. “Mm-hmm. Anyway, the car is totaled, and by that I mean completely fucked up. Insurance went up about two-hundred bucks.” I shook my head. “She’s fucking crazy, but she’s fine. I can sell the salvageable parts of her car, start saving from that.”

  “Good. And that’s a good idea.” Her hand wrapped around my waist, her crotch pushing into mine. “You know, she sent me a message about you last night. She said you seemed… happier. Any clue why she may have said something like that?”

  I watched her face for a moment before rapidly snatching my gaze away. Through my peripheral, I spotted her trying to catch my eye, but I couldn’t look. There was a reason Izzy may have told her that, but my excuse had nothing to do with Chloe.

  “Theo?” She sat up, crossing her legs. “Any idea why she’d say that? I thought she was onto us at first.”

  I was quiet for a moment, meeting her soft hazel eyes. Fuck, I hated the hopefulness she held, her eagerness for my response on full display. I was going to crush that hope, and I didn’t even want to. But I was no liar. She deserved the truth.

  “I… may have told her that Trixie was still around.” Her smile vanished into thin air, replaced with a lopsided frown. It was clear. She wasn’t thrilled. This wasn’t the pouty look she normally put on when she was upset. This was a full frown, anger rooted deep. “Shit, Chloe, I had to tell her something,” I said, backing myself up. “She asked me if I was still seeing Trixie, and I said yes, just so she’d back off. She knows me well. She knows I’m not going to ‘seem’ happier unless there’s a reason behind it.”

  “But… why Trixie? Why couldn’t you just say you met someone else? Someone new?”

  “Because she would have asked me who that person was. Chloe, she asked me if I’d seen you since you’d gotten back. I said yes, and somehow she went straight into telling me I was acting happier. I thought surely she had a clue—that’s one sneaky, smart-ass girl—but I backed it up with the first thing that came to mind. Saying I was still with Trixie.” I tried reaching for her, but she pulled away, leaning back. Climbing off the bed, her feet landed on the floor, and she stood tall with her eyes trained on me.

  “Theo, I just can’t believe...” Her sentence fell short. She didn’t say anything more. There was much more she could have said. She knew I couldn’t bring her name up around Izzy. That would have definitely had her thinking.

  “Chloe.” Her name came out in a groan as she backed away, going for her clothes. She slipped out of my T-shirt, picking up her dress and bra. After hooking the bra, she slid into her dress, and I sat up. “Chloe, what else was I supposed to say?”

  “You didn’t have to say Trixie,” she muttered hurriedly, eyes avoiding mine as she picked up her bracelets off the nightstand.

  “Well what the hell else was I supposed to say? I never told Izzy I was going to break it off with her.”

  “Okay.” Her response was simple, and for some reason, it got under my skin. I hopped off the bed, yanking on my briefs. I stood before her, but she spun for the door while struggling to latch her bracelet around her wrist. I caught her before she could go, gripping her face in my hands.

  “Chloe, stop.”

  “I need to get home.” She still avoided my line of sight, clutching the bracelets in tight fists.

  “Stay with me a little longer,” I pleaded, and she finally looked up. I expected sympathy, understanding, but no. This clearly bothered her. More than I thought. So much that she started talking crazy—bringing shit up that had nothing to do with the previous debate.

  Fucking women, I swear.

  “Theo… are you kidding?” she scoffed. “Don’t you see? I’m not even supposed to be here! I wasn’t supposed to be sleeping with you in your bed. Trixie is supposed to be there, according to you and Izzy.” She shook her head and wriggled out of my grip. “It’s just… it’s not fair. It not fair to me. All of this… it’s just so fucking wrong.” She backed away but looked at me once more. “We’re supposed to be better than this.”

  My next argument, I couldn’t help. The words ran right of me. “Chloe, what did we agree upon when this first started? Huh?” I demanded. “You’re getting too emotional and unstable about this—”

  I realized instantly that I shouldn’t have said it. It pissed her off even more. Her cheeks tinged red, brows furrowed, and in less than three seconds, she was out the door, zooming down the stairs.

  I hurried after her, calling her name, but she didn’t dare stop. She slipped into her flip-flops and fled my home as if it were a crime scene, rushing across the street to safety.

  I stopped at my porch. It was daytime. Neighbors were surely out, and all of them were nosey fucks. I couldn’t be seen running after her like this—shirtless, in only my fucking briefs. “Fuck!” I barked before walking back inside and slamming the door behind me when she was no longer in sight.

  Fuck me. Why would I say that shit to her face? As right as I was, it was wrong to rub it in like that. She obviously cared about me. She was sensitive, and I was supposed to be the one to make sure her emotions were never tampered with.

  “Damn it,” I growled beneath my breath. I gripped the edges of the marble counter when I entered the kitchen, staring forward at the sunlight that beamed through the patio door, sparking my polished floors.

  I was right and wrong, like every man on the planet when it came to women.

  Her dinner plate from last night sat in front of me. No trace of food was visible, but the white china reminded me of her. Her nakedness and the soul that ignited mine and turned it into a furious blaze all night long.

  I was stupid, with only one thought playing ping-pong in mind.

  I hope she comes back to me.

  EIGHTEEN

  I rushed across the street without so much as a glance back, barging through the door that led straight to my kitchen. I dropped my keys on the first counter I came across, pinching the bridge of my nose with blunt pressure.

  Tears were coming.

  I thought I could fight them.

  I was wrong.

  I covered my face with my hands, swiping aggravated wetness away before anyone came down and spotted me. I dropped my hands, but when I happened to look to my left, someone unfamiliar sat at the counter with a cup of coffee in hand.

  He had a natural tan complexion, similar to mine, eyes just as soft as someone clearly related to him—grey and filled with curiosity. He looked tall, with a broad chest and wicked, chiseled features. Dark, curly hair that was cropped and cut perfectly around the edges. Professional. Clean. His looks were sort of intimidating, but there was a kindness that orbited around him, proving I couldn’t judge on sight.

  He was just about to take a quick sip of the brew, but I was sure my entrance caught his full attention. I gasped, pressing a hand to the heart of my chest. “Ohmygod.” The words flew out my mouth like a torpedo. My face turned as red as a cherry.

  He put on a smile that seemed genuine and somewhat titillated. He was concerned, but by the way his eyes roamed my body, he clearly liked what he saw. I ignored his ogling. I’d become used to it after spending three years in a college full of horny, young men.


  This guy looked like he’d just graduated college, not the age of twenty-nine like Margie had mentioned. He must have landed his teaching job very young. Lucky man. He had a youthful yet attractive face. I pulled my shit together, clearing the remainder of tears from my face and waving in his direction.

  “Hi,” he said then mashed his lips together. He studied my wet eyes. The urge to ask what was wrong with me was most likely on the edge of his tongue, but I was glad he didn’t bother.

  “Uh. Hey. Sorry.” I swallowed hard. “You must be Sterling.”

  “Yes. And you must be Chloe.”

  “Yep.” I felt super awkward and really stupid.

  “Hmm.” He made a noise, almost like a small laugh. “Great to meet you, Chloe.”

  He started to stand from the bar stool with his hand stuck out, but I fidgeted and he came to a swift halt. I wasn’t up for handshakes or touching. He caught the hint, taking his seat and picking up his coffee again. He looked away from me. “I should go up to my room, let you finish your breakfast.”

  “Oh yeah. Please, go ahead. Don’t mind me.” He encouraged me to go. I was glad he didn’t make me feel any more pathetic. I collected myself, told Sterling it was nice to meet him, and then scampered out of the kitchen, hurrying up the stairs and into my bedroom. I could hear Margie in my dad’s room, arguing with him about getting dressed.

  I didn’t have the time or patience to deal with that right now. I decided it was best to allow Margie to handle her job alone. After all, it was her job. Even if the son she hadn’t seen in three years was drinking coffee alone downstairs, most likely awaiting her presence.

  Poor boy.

  I felt sorry that he had to witness my outrage as well as listen to my father’s stubbornness. I had no doubt he wondered where Mom was. I wouldn’t have been surprised if he’d considered the Knight family a little dysfunctional.

  Entering my room, I shut and locked my door behind me but hurried to the window, almost tripping over my blue rug just to make it across. His window was open, the curtains pulled aside, but he was nowhere in sight.

  God, he was a jerk.

  I couldn’t believe he’d said that to me. Me? The girl that made him feel everything. I didn’t mean to boast, but he made me feel alive too. And to say that right to my face? And then use Trixie’s hoe-ass as his excuse?

  No. I just couldn’t deal.

  Why did it have to be this way? Why couldn’t things just be simple and easy? Why couldn’t I just have them both? I could have told Izzy that I was sleeping with her dad, but there was a large risk of losing her. She wouldn’t have respected that or tolerated it. Plus, Izzy spoke her mind a lot, a trait she clearly got from her father.

  She wouldn’t have sugarcoated anything. Not her feelings. Not how stupid we may have looked together. Not even how our friendship would surely be over.

  We loved to talk boys, but it would have been weird as hell to talk about her dad. There would be boundaries. Everything would change. Izzy and I had this plan of moving in together once school was over. She’d be my roommate until we were in our thirties and engaged with great careers to back us up.

  None of that would happen, though, if she found out about Theo and me. Not only that, I would have hated for Theo to ruin the solid relationship he had with his daughter because he was too busy sleeping with her best friend. I couldn’t be the blurred line that stood between them. I was closest to her. She trusted me to never hurt her. The love we had for one another was immense, so it was easy to hurt one another.

  It was bad. And dirty. And wrong.

  And I wasn’t bad or dirty or wrong unless I was around him.

  Shit. Some things needed to change.

  This was my wake up call.

  Stop now, or you never will.

  Three long and boring days went by, and I spent every single one of them at home. I didn’t even bother going for my daily jogs. I knew, if I did, I would run into him. So I took up swimming a few laps in our pool.

  I would have enjoyed it more, but I always felt someone watching me. The weight would be heavy, pressing into my back, and when I’d turn or look towards my house as I climbed out the pool, I’d see the guestroom curtains drawn and Sterling Martinez standing only inches away from the window.

  He’d smile, but I wouldn’t bother. I’d pick up my towel, watching him as I walked away until I could no longer see him. I swear, there was something about him that weirded me about. Yes, he was sweet and he clearly loved his mother by the way he kissed her on the cheek every morning, but he stared way too much.

  No, it wasn’t a stare of admiration or even interest. It was a deep stare, like he knew many secrets about me that I’d never told anyone.

  Each day, I’d pass Sterling in the living room or the kitchen. When I was making lunch after my swims, he would walk in, wave lightly with a suave greeting, and then step behind me to get to the fridge. He’d purposely step by me, and the hairs would prick the length of my spine. The feeling was… bizarre. Yes, it crept me out, but it also gave me a cool, comforting chill.

  “Sterling.” I’d greet him in the flattest way possible, as if I’d known him for years and simply tolerated his presence. Like I said, weird.

  On another note, during those three days I’d received constant calls and texts from Theo. I didn’t respond to any of them. In order for me to keep myself in check, I had to keep my distance. Trust me, I wanted to give in infinite times, call back after he left a voicemail, begging me to return to his call.

  The third night, I received the maximum number of calls from him. Six. Maybe I wasn’t as desperate as I thought. We were obviously on the same level. I may have overreacted the other day, but he knew the reason why.

  And he also knew it was wrong to continue this fucking charade. Pretending not to care. Pretending this wasn’t more than what we both knew it was. We’d taken it too far in only one week. Imagine how far we’d have gone in two months.

  That night, I lay in bed, staring up at the stars on my ceiling again. I felt hopeless, ending it like that. Were we over? Would he give up on the calls? Stop texting me or even bother with me once he came to the realization that I was right about trying to let it go? I say “trying” because I wasn’t ready.

  I couldn’t stop thinking about him. Or the last night I spent with him. How I slept with him, cuddled up the entire night and inhaling his unique, manly scent. He got so hard for me the next morning, coming because it was me that made it happen.

  I sighed, rolling over. It was nearing midnight. I stared ahead at the neon green numbers on the alarm clock across from me. I wasn’t sleepy. Sleep would be nearly impossible with a mind this overcrowded.

  Minutes passed. I forced my eyes shut. It didn’t help.

  My phone buzzed on the bed beside me. “Mr. Black” appeared once again, and for a split second, I started to answer, but quickly changed my mind, muting the buzz and placing it beside the clock.

  The screen went black, but something rapped on my glass as soon as it did. Gasping, I sat up, looking towards the window and spotting a shadow behind it. The knocking broke the silence again, and I shot to a stand, rushing to the window because I knew exactly who it was.

  I pulled the curtains aside, and there he stood—Mr. Black, sporting all black. A baseball cap was fitted on his head, his dark brown eyes pinned on me. I opened my window in a hurry, whisper-hissing, “What the hell are you doing up here?!”

  He ignored my question, climbing through the window and landing with a gentle thud. I stepped back as he stood tall, turning and shutting the window. He didn’t lock it, which was a good sign. He would be leaving soon.

  “Theo, what the hell are you doing up here? Why would you climb through my window?”

  He shrugged one shoulder. “It’s obviously the only way I can see you.” His eyes flickered beneath his cap. “Got me acting like a sixteen year old boy again.”

  I tried hard not to smile, and it worked. Inside, however, I was beam
ing. Folding my arms across my chest, I took another step away, one eyebrow cocked in his direction. I could see part of his face from the streetlight filtering in through the slit between my curtains.

  He looked fucking amazing. If I wasn’t so upset and working so hard to maintain my composure, I would have salivated at the mere sight of him.

  A solid, black T-shirt hugged his body, black basketball shorts around his waist, and black Nikes to match. His tattoos were definitely a bonus, the ink beautifully sketched along his toned arms. As he stood there, I wondered how I stayed away for three whole days. Three days just seemed way too long to be away from Theo Black.

  His body was solid, chest clearly defined beneath that shirt. And the bulge in his middle gave a clear idea of what a woman should have expected—and what I knew—when she made the decision to get into bed with him.

  Stepping forward, Theo asked, “Why have you been ignoring me?” His voice wasn’t sweet or earnest, like how I pictured his unanswered messages to be. It was slightly irritated. “I’ve called you for days, trying hard to fucking explain myself, but you won’t allow me the chance.”

  I straightened my back. “Like you said, I was being too emotional. I realized it and backed off. What you wanted, right?”

  “Did I ever say that?” His voice was dark. He stepped forward again, nostrils flaring with a mild edge of frustration.

  “You didn’t have to say it.”

  He frowned. I expected him to say more, but instead, he finished his long awaited walk to me, pulling me in and leading the way to my full-sized bed. “Listen to me, baby,” he murmured, lips touching my ear. I shivered but listened, deciding a protest was pointless. “I’ve thought long and hard the past few days, and you know what I came up with?”

  I pretended to ignore him, avoiding the panty-melting kisses he placed on my face and the center of my chest when he softly laid me down.

  His head tipped up, eyes meeting mine. “How much I enjoy being around you,” he continued. “And how, even though you may not think so, I care about you. Shit, I love you, Chloe. And if you can’t see that, then I don’t know what the fuck to tell you.”

 

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