A Crazy Little Thing Called Love (Serendipitous Love Book 1)

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A Crazy Little Thing Called Love (Serendipitous Love Book 1) Page 7

by Christina C Jones


  “No.” I shoved him away. “Don’t touch me. Don’t follow me. Leave me alone. Go… go home to your family.”

  Defeat settled into his face, and for a whole two seconds, my silly emotional self felt bad. Again, logic ruled, and I turned, getting down the street as fast as I could without breaking into a full on run. I kept my tears at bay until I turned onto my own street.

  Stupid, stupid, stupid girl.

  Messing around with sweet, soulful, unrealistic love songs had me acting like I didn’t have any sense. Was I seriously crying over somebody I’d known a week? There was a special kind of crazy involved in getting emotionally wrapped in a man you hadn’t even know long enough to realize he had a family waiting for him at home.

  A freaking family!

  I shook my head, giggling joylessly to myself as I climbed the steps to my building. Everybody had a damned family except me.

  I didn’t mind that he had a child, not even a little. At our age, it was common, so it didn’t even surprise me. But to not mention her? That was… ugh. To be fair, none of our conversations so far had really been conducive to discussing such a detail about his life. We hadn’t talked very much at all. But still… knowing his daughter and her mom were waiting for him at home, and he hadn’t even mentioned it to me made me feel just as dirty as I hoped the women who let my father lay up with them while my mom and I waited at home did. I spent many nights watching my mother cry, and I vowed I would never be the cause of that for another woman. I couldn’t make Roman do right by his family, but he certainly wasn’t going to abandon them for me.

  I still wanted him.

  It was irresponsible, and stupid, and I hated myself for it, but a week after our… breakup, I guess, I still couldn’t get Roman off of my mind. Every time I cooked, showered, or crawled into my bed, it reminded me of the incredible night— and morning— of sex we’d shared. I had to walk past his building to get to my shop. Hell, even my flower shop reminded me of him.

  It sucked. Bad.

  I approached the front of Posh Petals tentatively, eyeing the security gate. It had been giving me trouble every time I used it now. The repair guy had intimated that my problem was user-error, and had nothing to do with the mechanics of the gate, but I refused to believe that. I reached for the chains, attempting to get it to lift, and just like always, I got it halfway up before it got stuck.

  “Looks like you need some help this morning.”

  I grinned.

  Just like always, Carter popped up.

  This time, he was in a deliciously red polo and a matching fitted baseball cap, looking very good. Now that Roman was out, Carter’s appeal had shot way up. He’d been coming to let my gate up, and in the ensuing short conversations, I learned he had inherited the shop when his father passed away. He had good mentors helping him with his business, but he was no dummy on his own. Carter had graduated high school at 17, finished his Bachelor’s degree in business when he was 20 by not taking summer breaks, and had his Master’s by the time he was 23.

  Attractive and intelligent. Hell yes.

  I felt like somebody’s horny old auntie, watching the ripple of his arms as he pushed the gate up for me. He and Roman were actually very similar in build — tall and athletic— but Carter’s good looks were much more in your face. He was sexy, and very conscious of it, but he wasn’t obnoxious. To me, that is.

  When he was done, he stepped a little too close, as usual, to offer me a smile. “You know you could have called me, right?”

  “Called you for what, Carter?” I asked, eyebrow lifted.

  “To let the gate up for you. I have to peek out the door every ten minutes in the morning to see when you’re coming so I can help.”

  “I’m not even here every morning though.”

  Carter grinned. “I know. And none of your employees ever have trouble getting it up. Just you. Which is why you should call me, so I’ll know when to come out and help. Unless you’re concerned Roman wouldn’t like it.”

  “Who gives a shit what Roman would like?” I asked, curling my lip up before I could catch myself and temper my response.

  Whistling, Carter shook his head. “Damn!” he said, chuckling. “Roman must have messed up bad for you to feel like that.”

  “Not your business.” I sidestepped him, picking out the keys I needed to open the front door.

  “I’m not trying to get in your business… not too much, at least. But seriously, I’m shocked Roman did something. I’ve known him for years, and he’s always been a stand-up guy.”

  I sucked my teeth. “Well, I guess things change.” I wanted to ask what exactly was so “stand up” about hiding a family, but I didn’t want to ever be accused of putting his little trifling business on the street.

  Carter shrugged. “Maybe so. But… enough about him, right? Let’s go ahead and exchange numbers. That way, next time you need help with the gate…”

  “Mmhmm. So this is how you get women’s number instead of just asking?” I asked, raising an eyebrow as I turned the last lock, then leaned against the door.

  He shook his head, laughing. “No, not usually. I’m… trying not to step on any toes.” He nodded his head in the direction of Urban Grind, and I rolled my eyes.

  “Give me your phone.” He handed it to me, and I added my number, returning it with my own pointed glance at Urban Grind. “I’m an adult… I can give out my number as I please.”

  Grinning, Carter slipped the phone back into his pocket. “Okay. I’ll keep that in mind.”

  We said our brief goodbyes, but instead of his usual arm squeeze, Carter pulled me into a hug that was a few seconds too long to be friendly. He smelled good — not Roman good, but still good — and his body was firm and warm against mine, inciting an involuntary reaction.

  Slut.

  I hoped like hell he couldn’t see my hardened nipples as we pulled away from each other, and I hurried inside with a mumbled “see you later.” I had an abundance of work I needed to do, so I dove in, spending the two hours before the shop opened scheduling deliveries and sketching new arrangements for the store. By the time my employees made it in, I was drained, and in desperate need of caffeine, but coffee reminded me of him. Damn him for introducing me to good coffee. The stuff I usually drank tasted like crap now.

  Sighing heavily, I leaned into the back of my office chair. It didn’t make good sense to avoid something I needed — relatively speaking — because of Roman. That was giving him way too much headspace, and way too much control over my life, when he deserved none. Feeling determined, I snatched my purse from my drawer and headed out, walking with confidence until I reached the front door of Urban Grind, where it deflated.

  Mercifully, I’d been able to avoid seeing Roman for the whole week since our blowup. I was pretty sure that was the only reason I was holding it together as well as I was. What was gonna happen if I saw him?

  Squaring my shoulders, I walked in, heading straight for the counter to order a cup to go, and a bag of grounds so I could make my coffee at home, and wouldn’t need to come back. I paid for my purchase and got the hell out of there as quickly as I could, glad that I hadn’t run into Roman inside.

  And then, I ran into him on the street.

  Literally.

  I was so glad to not see him inside that I wasn’t watching where I was going as I stepped out. I walked right into him, spilling a good amount of hot coffee down the front of his shirt.

  “Shit,” he muttered softly, pulling the fabric away from his body. “I knew you were upset with me, but damn, you don’t have to burn me to get the message across.” His voice and eyes were both edged with laughter, and it tugged at my heart. Seeing him reminded me how much I missed him.

  “It was an accident. Sorry.” I tried to step around him, but he moved with me, blocking my way.

  “Simone… it’s been a week now. Do you have a minute? I really wanna talk to—”

  “No,” I interrupted, shaking my head. “I don’t.”
/>
  He shoved his hands in his pocket with a heavy sigh and sagging shoulders. “Will you have one later? I mean… you haven’t responded to any of my calls, or texts… I want to at least explain.”

  I shrugged, stuffing the bag of coffee grounds into my purse, and looping the bag over my shoulder to help free my hands. “It is what it is, Roman. You live with your girlfriend and daughter, what more explanation is needed for that?”

  Roman shook his head, sneering. “None, I guess. You’ve got it all figured out.”

  “Okay,” I said, nodding. “So… we should keep it moving. Move on.”

  “Move on, huh?” Roman was quiet for a moment, and when he spoke, his voice was… different. Strained, and almost… defeated. “Is that what I saw this morning? You’re moving on with Carter?”

  What the…

  I frowned, and my hand landed involuntarily on my hip as I clutched my half-spilled coffee cup in the opposite hand. “And if I am? Why does it matter to you? What are you doing, spying on me now?”

  “What? No, I saw you hugged up with him in the middle of the damn street.” He looked sick about it. Heat rushed to my cheeks at Roman’s assessment of what the mostly innocent hug looked like from his point of view, but I quickly tamped down any guilt. How typical of a supposed player, to be jealous another man was giving me some attention.

  I rolled my eyes at him, disgusted, then I lifted my chin, holding my head high as I stepped past him, not even bothering to respond. I stuck my ear buds in and hit shuffle as I headed down the street, only to snatch them right back out when Tamia’s Officially Missing You began to play. Again, instead of being an ally, music was plotting against me.

  I had no business missing Roman.

  Right?

  — & —

  She was serious. she was really serious.

  I stood there feeling like shit for the longest time after Simone disappeared down the street. It took every bit of restraint I had not to run after her and make her listen. But that was crazy, right? What the fuck would I look like chasing down a woman I’d barely known a week? Especially when she was jumping to conclusions without hearing me out. This was her loss, not mine.

  Later, as I headed home, my conviction faltered. I was pretty sure the look Simone gave me before she walked away was gonna haunt me in my sleep that night. It was a mixture of hurt, betrayal, and disgust that was grossly opposite the things I wanted to ignite in Simone.

  From the moment I saw her, before I knew anything else about her — including her name— I wanted her. That may seem shallow, or superficial, but its the truth. Even surrounded by the beauty of the flower-lined shop, she was the first place my eyes fell when Davis and I walked through the door, like she held some type of magnetic pull. She stood there messing with those flowers, in a simple tee shirt and jeans, not even looking at me, but something about her commanded me to go over and say something. Davis ragged on me about it later, how I’d gravitated to her and left him hanging to pick out his own flowers for Kim. But I couldn’t help it. She was gorgeous, no exaggeration. Expressive, deep brown eyes that told everything she was thinking, full, pillow-soft lips that begged to be kissed, smooth deep bronze skin that begged to be touched, and that big, uninhibited smile … yeah. Beautiful.

  And it wasn’t just physical beauty, either. Simone had an aura that, despite her smart mouth, exuded serenity and calm, without being meek at all. She claimed to be shy, but her quiet confidence spoke otherwise. She was sexy as hell, and it had nothing to do with how she looked. That was a bonus.

  Simone was damn near perfection, but what did it matter for me if she wasn’t even going to attempt to understand my situation without jumping to conclusions? I suspected a good amount of her time was spent over-analyzing, and that’s why she could emanate such calm. She was giving it away to everybody else, while she internalized whatever worst-case scenario played out in her head. I didn’t need that stress anyway.

  When I walked through the door of my apartment, Leah was sitting in the dark at the kitchen counter. She had a thing about the main lights being on while Zahra was sleeping. Her open laptop cast a glow around the room, and she tipped her head up in a silent acknowledgment as I passed her to go to my bedroom. I needed a hot shower and a cold drink to deaden the unexpected — and unwelcome— feeling of loss that had settled into my chest.

  I was down to my boxers when a soft knock sounded at my door, followed by Leah poking her head in without waiting for a response. “Hey,” she said, stepping inside and closing the door behind her. “You wanna talk about it?”

  “Talk about what?”

  She sucked her teeth, giving me an incredulous look as she perched on the end of my bed. “You’ve been walking around here looking like somebody kicked your puppy for a week now, Rome. So, spill it. What’s going on?”

  “Leah… could we not, and just say we did? I don’t feel like… examining feelings with you tonight, okay?”

  “Good,” she replied, in a clipped tone. “Cause I don’t either. I do want to know what’s going on with my friend though. No psychiatry today, promise. Just between friends.”

  With a heavy sigh, I leaned against the door frame of my bathroom and crossed my arms. “Fine. I… Simone knows about our… living arrangements.”

  Leah grimaced, shaking her head as she pushed her glasses up on her nose. “And she was.. displeased with the information.”

  I huffed. “Displeased? She told me not to text her, not to call her, and not to come by. Displeased is…. an understatement.”

  “Ouch.” She gave me a wry smile. “I’m really, really sorry Rome. I know how much you liked her.”

  Lifting an eyebrow, I tilted my head to the side, confused. “What do you mean you know how much I liked her? I only knew her a week. I haven’t talked about her that much.”

  Leah giggled, shaking her head at me. “Boy, please. That girl was all you could talk about last week, and you sang to her. I was there, fool! I saw how you looked at her too, and you didn’t come home that night. All of that says sprung… to me, at least. I mean… I’ve been wrong before, but not usually, you know?”

  “Shut up, Leah.”

  “Mmhmm.” She leaned back on her elbows with a smug grin. “So how are you gonna fix it?”

  “Fix it?”’

  “Yeah. How are you gonna get her back? You know your ass is super picky, so if you let her go, it’ll be another what… three years… before you find somebody else that meets your illustrious standards, especially with the way you work.”

  I shook my head. “Don’t do that, Leah.”

  “Do what?” she asked, with an innocent smile.

  “Make it seem like I’m … hard to please, or something.”

  “That’s not what I said, at all. You know I think you’re one of the coolest guys in the world, and you’re super easy-going… but you’re definitely um … finicky about women. That list of requirements of yours is—”

  “Whoa. Whoa. Hold the fuck on, I don’t have a list.”

  Leah pursed her lips in disbelief. “It’s fine, Rome, you don’t have to defend yourself. You like what you like. And you happen to like a reserved beauty with a big butt, a college degree, a career, and… a tendency to drive you a little crazy.”

  “What man doesn’t want that, Leah? You need to work on your profiling skills a little more.”

  “Whatever. Back to my point, it’s been a while since I’ve heard you talking about anybody. She was probably really good for you.”

  I blew out a sigh as I stepped away from the door. “I know. But if the living arrangement isn’t something she’s comfortable with, what can I do about that?”

  Leah groaned, closing her eyes. “I’m sorry. If you weren’t doing me this favor—”

  “You’re good,” I interrupted, shaking my head. “You’re Zahra’s mom… I’m always gonna make sure you’re okay.” I shrugged, then stepped into the bathroom to turn on the shower.

  “But—”

/>   “Leah… drop it. Please.”

  From the bathroom, I could hear the rustling fabric that indicated she was getting off of the bed. A few seconds later, she was standing at the door. “Okay. But seriously… you should keep trying to talk to her.”

  “How am I supposed to make her listen?” I asked, leaning against the counter as the bathroom filled with steam.

  “Just give it a little time,” Leah replied. “She’ll want to hear from you. You’ve just gotta give her a little bit to let the emotional reaction wear off.”

  I shook my head. “Nah, Le. She basically told me today she was moving on. With Carter. I saw them hugged up.”

  “Wow. I’m gonna have a talk with Carter, because I—”

  “Seriously? I don’t need you to do that. This shit is messy enough.” I motioned for her to turn around as I stripped out of my boxers and stepped into the shower. Through the tempered glass, I barely made out her shape as she perched on the counter. “I don’t even know if it’s worth it anyway. She just made her own damned decision about what the situation was and ran with it. She basically called me a liar.”

  Over the sound of the shower spray, I could hear Leah laughing. “Roman, she thinks you’re lying because it sounds like a lie! You know how many men are still sleeping with the baby’s mama behind their wife or girlfriend’s back? And you live with yours! It sounds like the work of a very bold con-artist. You really can’t blame her for being skeptical.”

  “But she wouldn’t even give me a chance.”

  “So, maybe she’s been burned by a similar situation before. Look, I’m saying that as a woman, I get it. If you want her, you’re gonna have to show her you’re different.”

  A few moments later, I heard the bathroom door close as Leah stepped out, leaving me wondering if I even felt like trying this shit with Simone. True enough, I was having a hard time getting her off of my mind, but really… I was having an even harder time figuring out why I should bother.

  She wanted to “move on” with Carter… fine.

  — & —

  Yeah… so, it wasn’t fine. Not that I gave a shit what Simone was doing, but every time I saw Carter grinning in her face as I headed to Urban Grind, it made me want to punch something. Preferably him. Smug, arrogant bastard. I didn’t have a problem with him though. My issue was him with Simone, which didn’t make sense, because I didn’t care about Simone.

 

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