by Shey Stahl
His head peeks out from behind his screen, his eyes sparkling with amusement as he watches me before speaking. “Come to lunch with me.”
He tries this every goddamn day and my answer remains the same. I don’t know why he thinks it will change.
“No! I have no desire to join your Crush Brigade.” I tell him checking my email and avoiding eye contact. Always avoiding eye contact is important. If you do happen to make eye contact with Tathan, you will weaken. The Force is strong with this one.
“What’s a Crush Brigade?” he asks eyeing me with amusement, brown eyes wondering.
I still don’t bother making eye contact but I can see the grin. “Harem.”
There is an email from Casey telling me to be strong and to fix my bra. It’s peeking out. I can always count on her to look out for me.
When I look down, sure enough my bra is showing where my lavender blouse has fallen down past my cleavage and revealed the girls. This explains the amusement on Tathan’s face.
“Ahh Amalie, you’ll give in,” he tells me and winks before looking back at his screen.
Fucking winks. I hate the winks about as much as I hate that smirking.
He thinks this shit is funny.
“Fuck off!” I say again, turning in my chair and chant to myself again that he has Chlamydia all the while drinking my iced mocha. Casey lets out a ridiculous snort knowing I’m trying hard. I flip her off.
I eat my lunch at my desk. Tathan takes Lizard Lips to lunch today. I think her name is Regina but I can’t be sure. I don’t want to know her name, she’ll be gone tomorrow and Lizard Lips sounds better to me.
The girl prances around his desk like a female cat in heat. He smirks but deliberately provokes her for his own amusement. Tomorrow it will be a different girl so I don’t understand why she’s strutting her shit around the office knowing the way he is. Seems like a waste of perfectly good energy.
Lizard Lips struts away. I snort when she flips her hair and roll my eyes with emphasis that women fall for this shit.
Does she not have any self-respect? Without a doubt, no way. What she does have is an apparent respect for mind-blowing orgasms that I can guarantee the man-whore doles out like candy to a baby.
Tathan takes note of my obvious derision towards the mindless fuck leaving his domain and then proceeds to ask me to go to dinner with him. How does he keep any of the floozies straight and then immediately ask me to dinner? He attempts this every night too. I tell him no, actually I tell him hell no and he laughs. You’d think at some point he would stop asking. As if saying no to lunch isn’t enough, he wants to be shot down twice in one day.
Doesn’t he have any self-respect? No, what he has is an apparent respect for his own mind-blowing orgasms and any willing bimbo will do.
“I like it when you play hard to get.” He whispers in my ear once we’re in the elevator. I try not to ever be alone with Tathan in an elevator but sometimes it happens. “Gives me a challenge and I’m definitely up for a challenge.”
I shove him against the wall and I’m tempted to kiss his beautiful lips and wipe that goddamn smirk off his beautiful God-like face. “I will never go out with you. Stop asking.”
“I like it rough.” He tells me wrapping his arms around me and pulling me hard against his chest, his lips about an inch from mine. I know exactly what he’s trying to do when his hands go lower, just above my ass. Not gonna lie, it felt nice to have his hands on me.
There’s something, a small part of this or his embrace that feels familiar. Regardless, this can’t happen no matter how nice he feels against me.
I use the only self-defense mechanism I know. I bite him ... only I bite his lip because that’s what’s in front of me. It takes him all of two seconds to pull away.
“Did you just bite me?” he gasps raising his hand to touch his lips.
“I like it rough too,” I tell him, smiling. My hands rest on his chest pushing him back, again, his back pressing into the wall of the elevator. “Stay away from me, Tathan!”
Without another glance, I exit the elevator and leave him standing there, alone.
When I get to my apartment complex and out of my car, I take my shoes off as I walk down the hall. As soon as I open the door my chocolate lab puppy, Oliver, practically launches himself through the air at me. It’s my standard greeting from him for the last four weeks since I brought him home.
We go about our night, me loving on him and then cleaning up his messes. He chews everything but I guess that’s what puppies do. He’s twelve weeks old and a little monster. Zane has Oliver’s Lab sister and she’s totally fucking calm. She likes to sleep all day and is prissy as hell. I got the hellion of the litter. I think subconsciously the breeder must have known I needed some excitement in my life.
Having a puppy is a lot of work. It’s a lot like having a child, so everyone told me, and I’d have to agree now that I’m the mother of a puppy.
He’s nothing like I expected. Our nightly routine consists of him licking me all over, me walking him until he’s almost comatose, and him peeing about a dozen times. Then it’s time for his dinner, which is essentially useless because he just knocks over the bag and gets it himself so I don’t bother, I only knock it over for him. He eats like a cow and I have absolutely no idea where he puts it all.
Being a Thursday night, I don’t have a lot going on. I do, however, look over some wedding magazines Zane gave me and dream that maybe someday I might find a man worthy of getting me in a white dress. That’s the thing about weddings, they always make you think about your wedding day. Or least it’s where my mind has been venturing to lately.
The thoughts make me think of Tathan, which really annoys me because I don’t ever want to think of that man and me together in that way.
Who am I kidding, my mind just totally went there.
These days it’s clear I have no life outside of this dog, planning Casey’s wedding, and my life-affirming job of getting coffee for slackers.
As Oliver and I lay on the floor playing with his chew toys, an old pair of my heels he insisted were now his, I hear a door open in the hall. Scrambling along the floor in full-on stealth mode, I crack the front door to see that Tathan’s now home.
Did I mention he lives next door?
Yet another reason my social life sucks. Not only am I afraid to leave at night in fear he’ll see me, I’m silently obsessed with his life and who joins him in that apartment.
Which, to date, hasn’t been a single woman. That tells me he doesn’t bring them home to his bachelor pad, probably bangs them in their car. Or worse, bathrooms. Did I mention he has to have Chlamydia if knocking boots in a bathroom stall is his method of foreplay?
No class. He has absolutely no class I convince myself.
As he’s opening his door I see his mail in his hand, which probably has some of mine in it. He steals my mail so I have to go to his apartment to get it. He’s such a child. An obnoxious fucking child.
Watching him go into his apartment, that’s when it hits me, staring out across the hall at the brown door. I should be making him miserable. Why I hadn’t thought of this earlier was beyond me. Seems so brilliant.
What if I could make him miserable?
“How though?” I ask staring at Oliver.
He gives me those pretty blue eyes that droop down and make you fall in love with him.
Unfortunately he doesn’t answer me but I hold him up in front of me so I can look at him. “Oliver, how come I never thought of this before?”
He starts to wiggle in my arms as if I’m telling him he’s the best puppy in the world.
“It’s a genius plan! I can make him just as miserable and then maybe he’ll leave me alone.”
But where to begin? He already annoys the fuck out of me on a daily, hell an hourly, basis. I need to dream up something epic to fuck with him so he will stop making me want to join the Crush Brigade with the rest of the she-whores in the office.
Oh, I’ve got it.
Those Craigslist ads. I could post more and make his life miserable.
Now there’s an idea.
Immediately I get online and post one that his car is for sale and leave his cell number I stole from our employee files the other day.
Then I’ll wait a few days and post another ad for someone looking to hire a pool boy, then another one wanting to adopt cats because why wouldn’t he want to be surrounded by pussy all the time.
I’m a motherfucking genius.
It’s a little after eight that night when Oliver and I are lying on my bed eating a bowl of Cheerios. He likes sharing a bowl of cereal before bed. When I finish eating them and we discuss my plan a little more, he drinks the milk left in the bowl. Just as I’m contemplating going to bed early, pathetic I know, my phone rings beside the bed. I know who it is even before I look at the screen.
“What, Casey?” I hold the phone against my ear and shoulder using my hands to pet Oliver. Puppy fur is hard to resist.
“Meet us at the Red Revolver.” She tells me, her voice so loud Oliver jumps in my arms.
“I can’t,” I tell her. “I threw my back out.”
“How?” She laughs.
“Lifting Oliver.”
“He’s ten pounds.” She laughs again, knowing I’m lying. “How did you manage that?”
“Oh please, he’s at least eleven.”
Casey tries changing the subject. “Zane is here and I only have a few weeks of freedom left. You have to come down here with us, it’s your bridesmaid required duty.”
Bryan Johnson, her fiancé, is amazing but Casey is still having pre-wedding jitters and it’s apparent on nights like this. I can’t blame her. We’re twenty-three. It’s not like we’re old enough to be settling down.
“The Madsen brothers are here.”
Mind-blowing orgasm, party of one?
Did I mention Tathan has brothers?
If I didn’t it was because I wanted to forget that part. Imagine what three Madsen brothers are capable of. Perfection. Beauty. Sex appeal. The list is essentially endless.
How did I not hear Tathan leaving his man cave? Casey is trying to tempt me because no matter how hard I try not to admit it, knowing all three brothers are there is incredibly tempting.
She knows how to get to me. Though I hate Tathan, his brothers are less obnoxious and just as hot to look at. What’s wrong with wanting to lick them, I mean stare at them?
They’re a beautiful family. If I was their parents I would have kept having kids just because they were genetically perfect in every way.
Still, the offer to go out is now there and I want to accept.
The Madsen boys consist of the oldest, James, who owns a restaurant in Scottsdale that serves the most amazing pulled pork sandwich I’ve ever had in my life. I go there just to stare at him because he’s nothing like Tathan other than his drop dead gorgeousness. He’s also married so all I do is drool, I mean look. Kelly is another brother and no one exactly knows what Kelly does besides occasionally showing up at work, and then there’s Tathan. I have no clue what the fuck he does at work unless his number one priority at his job is to make me miserable.
“Please come!” Casey’s begging now. I can just imagine her face.
I sigh, trying to pretend like she’s inconveniencing me, though she knows I’ll giving in. “I don’t know. Doesn’t that place have a twenty-dollar cover?”
“Yeah but it’s ladies night. You get in for free.” I can hear Zane in the background bitching about how he should have gotten in for free too. He gets upset about gender specific deals. He is one of the girls after all.
“Fine, I’ll be there in a twenty minutes.”
“Great,” she says with entirely too much enthusiasm. I’m convinced she’s already drunk and it’s only Thursday night. I make it a personal rule of mine only to drink on Fridays and Saturdays. It makes me feel like less of an alcoholic. Which I’m really not. I hardly ever drink these days but lately, like maybe the last few weeks, Casey is leading me that way with these jitters and preparing for her wedding.
I put on the sexiest black dress I can find and borrow some heels from my neighbor Jade, she’s a stripper and has just about everything you can imagine. Just don’t ask her what’s behind door number three in that din of iniquity she calls her apartment.
I’m not kidding. It will scare the ever loving shit out of you.
Oliver looks a little sad that I’m not staying in bed with him. He always gives me the guilt trip. And if you’ve never gotten a guilt trip from a puppy, it’s the worst thing ever.
“I’ll be back soon.” I point my finger in his face. He perks up and sniffs it. “Don’t eat any furniture or my heels!”
He cocks his head at me as if my words mean nothing to him.
It’s around nine when I walk out of my apartment, wondering if Tathan is in his apartment or if he’s at the bar with his brothers. When I get to the parking lot, his silver Lexus RC F isn’t in the parking lot. The only reason I know the model of his car is because I like cars. And his is nice. Mine is not. I have an old Nissan Altima that barely gets me to work and back and has duct tape holding the worn upholstery together on the seats.
Knowing Tathan’s car isn’t in the parking lot makes me a tad nervous because there’s a good possibility that he could be at the bar.
It’s more like thirty minutes instead of twenty and I’m strutting into the bar, convinced my plan to make Tathan miserable might just work based on the stares I get walking from my car to the door. I mean, look at me with this dress on rocking the shit out of three inch heels.
I’ve always enjoyed the Red Revolver. It’s a nice bar, good strong drinks and loud music.
It’s not hard to find Casey and Zane. He’s tall, she’s short, both equally obnoxious when you walk into a room because they’ll literally stand on a table to get your attention
“Took you long enough!” Zane says standing so I can sit between him and Casey. I decline and push him back down by placing my hands on his shoulders so I can sit on the end of the bench seat of the small booth they’re in. I don’t like to be trapped between them in case I need to leave quickly.
As we talk about the wedding expo on Saturday, “Stolen Dance” blares through the club and I tell them about Tathan’s latest attempt to ask me out and me biting him, which they’re fully engrossed in when a group of guys walk in causing all the women in the bar to run toward them.
“Who’s that?” I ask Zane as he peeks around Casey, staring at the guys who walked in. It’s not uncommon for athletes, even actors to come to this club and if it’s either, Zane will know. The dude spends a good amount of time with his nose in a TMZ magazine.
He watches the men, loses interest in another one by the bar, and then looks closer. Honestly, Zane gets more action that most women. He’s very attractive, clean, well dressed, and you would never know it looking at him that’s he’s looking for dick. He doesn’t give it away. Though spend five minutes alone with him and you’ll know just by who captures his attention longer.
Zane leans into my ear so that I can hear him over the music. My eyes follow his hand the direction of the men. “Well, that one,” he points to the bigger guy with brown hair, “is Aldon Hernandez.”
He stands tall, heavily muscled wearing a white polo shirt with a dark gray hat hiding his eyes. His smile is familiar but I can’t place the face with the name.
Beside him I see black hair and I know who the other guy is. It’s Tathan.
“Aldon Hernandez?” I ask drinking Zane’s beer. “Like the football player?”
Casey chooses then to butt into the conversation and it’s apparent she’s had too many glasses of wine. “If that guy even looked my way,” she points to Aldon nearly knocking over her glass of red wine in the process. “I’d be on my back in seconds.”
“You would not.” I say trying to ignore her. Casey likes to talk that she’d do things like that but she’s been with Bryan since she was
fifteen. There’s no way she’d jeopardize that even with a guy like Aldon.
Zane gives me a pointed stare as if he’s trying to find the cure for cancer in my facial features. “You know who Aldon is, right?”
“No,” I say. “I’ve just heard of him before.” I lie. I actually love football but I wouldn’t say I follow it. When my dad was sick, I spent a lot of time by his side watching football. He was a huge football fan, didn’t really have a team he enjoyed more than the rest, just football in general.
“I’m not sure who the other guy is,” Zane says, “can’t see him with all those whores surrounding him.”
He’s right. You can barely make out Aldon let alone the guy next to him, who I’m positive, is Tathan now. I see his ass. I know that ass because any time he gets up from his desk, I watch it. It’s a nice fucking ass.
“Is that Tathan?” Casey looks closer. “I think it is.”
Zane almost spits his beer out and says, “Oh my God, how does Tathan know Aldon and I didn’t know about this?”
“I’m going to the bar.” I say quickly disappearing before they can talk me into getting their drinks.
Once at the bar, the bartender ignores me, like I’m not even there. I yell out my order three freaking times but nothing, doesn’t work. “No one cares what I have to say. Assholes.”
“I’m listening.” An all-too-familiar voice behind me says.
I turn to look over my shoulder at him, giving him a judging once-over that he finds entertaining. “Well then get me a beer.”
All he does is give the bartender a nod. A motherfucking nod and he has his attention. It pisses me off because why do I have boobs if I can’t get a bartender’s attention?
Seems ridiculous.
When the bartender hands me the beer, I don’t tip him. He doesn’t deserve a tip.
Tathan smiles at him. “Thanks, Matt.” I glare at both of them while taking a drink of my beer. When I set it down on a table near the wall out of the way of the crowd dancing, Tathan follows me over there. “Dance with me?” he asks tipping his head toward the dance floor.