Regret (Under My Skin Book 1)

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Regret (Under My Skin Book 1) Page 4

by Christina Lee


  I began typing before I lost my nerve. Hey, this is Brin. E’s hands are occupied so he asked me to text you to say he’s got dinner handled. Danny Boy’s pizza.

  My heart beat like a tattoo against my chest. For some reason, it felt too intimate to be texting him. A few seconds later, his phone pinged with a new text.

  Nick: Sounds good. Will you be around too?

  I waited a long beat asking myself what the fuck my problem was. Oh yeah, he was an asshole and no way was I going to pretend to make dinner plans with him, even if it was a casual meal shared with roommates. Thankfully, we’d been able to avoid each other for most of the weekend, too.

  I heard him tell Elijah he had plans with Sarah Saturday night, but he never brought her home, at least not while I was there. And I had spent most of Sunday at my folks’ house with Tallulah, trying in vain to reach Mrs. Reynolds.

  At least the dog had provided a somewhat reedy connection between my dad and me since he and my uncle Rick had a golden retriever while growing up. Dad even played ball with Tallulah in the backyard while I helped Mom get lunch together. Normally, my father avoided the topic of his brother or their childhood, which I knew was painful for him, but yesterday, he actually seemed lighter with the dog around.

  Me: Probably not.

  Short and to the point. It was for the best.

  Him: Yeah, okay. See you later.

  “Done,” I said to Elijah, motioning with his cell. “You guys eat together a lot?”

  He shrugged. “Once or twice a week when we’re both going to be home. You joining us?”

  “Nah,” I replied, setting his phone beneath the counter again. “Heading to the shelter with Tallulah.”

  “Want me to text Nick about the situation? I’m sure he’d—” But I was already shaking my head before he finished his sentence.

  Elijah sighed. “You’re a pain in the ass. We’ll leave you some leftovers.”

  7

  Brin

  An hour later, after I helped Brooke lock up both sides of Doggie Styles, I loaded Tallulah in the back seat and drove her to the shelter, avoiding her sweet and trusting gaze in the mirror. The Metroparks were an impressive twenty-three thousand acres of land connecting the east and west sides of the city and offered many outdoor amenities I didn’t take advantage of enough. The trails through the woods spanned some three hundred miles and it was especially pretty down here in the fall.

  I pulled into the small lot of Hope Valley and was greeted at the door by the owner, whom I’d called ahead of time. As soon as I saw the care Connie took with the abandoned dog, I knew Tallulah would be in good hands. “I’ll give it a couple of days before advertising her adoption in case the owner’s relative changes her mind.”

  “Perfect,” I replied and then bent down to stroke Tallulah’s fur. “I’ll be back to visit you soon.” No way I’d want to make her feel even more discarded. More than likely, I’d return tomorrow.

  Afterward, I walked along one of the trails simply trying to ease my jumbled mind. I thought about the fact that only a week ago, I was happily single in my own condo I had purchased with the help of a down payment from my uncle’s inheritance, and a job I really enjoyed. I was becoming more responsible and focused on things that made me happy. I had deleted my dating apps, attempting to get more motivation and balance in my life after dating a string of men who could never give me the attentiveness and affection I needed—or craved. At least I always knew when to end things and to never return for repeat performances. It was definitely progress.

  Now I was staying in my friend’s apartment, with a roommate I happened to know all too intimately from my past and it only made me remember how far I’d come from that lonely, vulnerable kid who only wanted his crush’s attention.

  I pulled out my cell and called my superintendent who informed me the repairs on my condo were underway and the contractors were only slightly off-schedule due to the new floorboards being on back order. Figures.

  He assured me I’d be able to move back in within a couple weeks’ time. That helped me breathe more freely as I finally got in my car and drove toward the apartment, still sad about having to leave Tallulah at a shelter. It sucked not having my creature comforts around me during times like this, let alone putting a friend out. Not that Elijah seemed like he was put out, but still. No reason to overstay my welcome.

  If I was being completely candid, what it really came down to was that boy who’d turned into a man and still got my blood boiling. I wanted to punch him and make out with him at the same time, and that was some fucked-up shit.

  I silently pushed my extra key in the lock, hoping Nick and Elijah would be finished eating and already in their separate rooms. Slipping out of my shoes at the door, I heard voices coming from the bathroom. Nick was obviously cutting Elijah’s hair if the buzzing noise of the clippers was any indication.

  As I turned toward the kitchen to scavenge any leftover pizza, I zeroed in on Elijah’s voice over the whirring sound. “Were you and Brin friends in high school?”

  “Nah, not really,” Nick replied and I froze in place. “He tutored me in Trig because I was in danger of failing and I needed the credit to graduate. So did a lot of the guys on the team. You know what they say about dumb jocks.”

  I rolled my eyes because Nicholas Dell was far from being dumb.

  “Oh, I can totally see Brin tutoring the hot jocks,” Elijah said with a laugh, like he had some juicy gossip on me. But maybe also because I was the employee Tristan always put in charge of prepping the newbies at Doggie Styles. He said I was a good instructor and asked if I was interested in helping launch their new dog-training program this winter. “Bet he got an eyeful of jock straps.”

  My face heated up and I wondered if Nick’s had too. “Yeah, guess so,” he responded in an unsteady voice.

  “Though I suppose you could get your ass kicked for something like that,” Elijah remarked in a far-off voice. “Shit, that’s not what happened between you, is it?”

  “What do you mean?” Nick asked at the same time he shut off the clippers.

  “I don’t know,” Elijah said and suddenly his voice sounded way too loud in the hollow of the bathroom. I became even more motionless as I held my breath. “There’s all kinds of tension between the two of you.”

  I was going to kick his ass. Always in everyone else’s business but hated when someone nosed around in his.

  “Listen, I was a dick to him. A huge asshole and no matter how many times I apologize it won’t be enough,” Nick replied in a pained voice. “Let’s just leave it at that.”

  He turned the clippers back on and it became the only sound in the house. Elijah gratefully remained silent, maybe finally understanding the gravity of the situation between us.

  My chest squeezed tight as I quietly retreated to the kitchen. The box of pizza was lying on the counter, and I placed a couple of pepperoni slices on one of the paper plates sitting nearby. I padded past the bathroom to my room and shut the door to blot out the sound.

  A few minutes later, I heard a knock as I was hanging my hoodie on a hook in the closet. “What’s up?”

  “Why didn’t you tell us you were home?” Elijah asked accusingly from the doorway. His hair was buzzed shorter on the sides and still longer up top. It looked good.

  “You guys were busy, and I was hungry,” I said, motioning to my empty plate. “Thanks for that. Let me know what I owe you.”

  “Nah, no big thing. Next time can be on you,” Nick said from behind him. “That’s how we roll around here.”

  “Okay, cool.” I stood there awkwardly, not even knowing where to put my hands. My gaze zeroed in on a discarded pair of my briefs on the floor near the futon and my cheeks grew warm with embarrassed that the room looked a bit wrecked. I made a mental note to have a better system of wading through my stuff since I was essentially living out of a box and a bag. Both Nick and Elijah seemed pretty tidy around the apartment and I generally was too, when I was in my
own space.

  “I was sorry to hear about the dog’s owner passing away,” Nick said, and I could hear the sincerity in his voice.

  “Yeah, it’s a bummer,” I replied, still feeling guilty about leaving her at the shelter. “But I volunteer at Hope Valley, so I’ll be able to check on her and make sure she’s not too lonely.”

  Elijah threw me a sympathetic look and Nick’s gaze seemed filled with regret—about more than only Tallulah.

  “Nick still has the clippers out, why don’t you let him give you a haircut?” Elijah asked, slipping inside my room. His fingers were suddenly in my curls. “This mop is out of control.”

  “No way. I don’t do clippers,” I replied, ducking away from his grabby hands.

  “I’ll only use scissors,” Nick said still standing partially in the hallway like he didn’t want to intrude. “It’ll give me good practice.”

  “Practice? You don’t know how to—”

  “Of course I do. I just meant—”

  “Don’t be a pain in the ass, Brin,” Elijah grumbled, nudging me toward the door. “Let him cut your damn hair. Get your skinny butt in the bathroom.”

  God, why the fuck was Elijah trying so hard?

  I narrowed my eyes at him. I’d get him back for making fun of my ass later. None of the guys I dated ever complained about my very adequate bottom, I wanted to say.

  I pushed past him out into the hall. “Fine.”

  8

  Nick

  “Dude, it’s no hardship if you don’t want a haircut,” I grumbled, placing the clippers back in the box that was resting on the toilet lid. “I have better things to do.”

  I certainly didn’t want to force him. Besides, if I screwed up, then he’d really despise me. I grabbed the broom and quickly swept the mess Elijah and I had made on the floor.

  Brin hesitated at the door and almost backed out until Elijah gave him a nudge forward. What the hell was that about? It wasn’t like he could make Brin be cordial to me any more than I could make up for how I’d treated him years ago.

  “I uh…I haven’t had a haircut in months. So, it’s not the worst idea,” he replied, brushing the long curls out of his face. Fuck, he was too adorable for his own good. His hair looked even more unmanageable now than as a teen, but any dude would give their left nut for that gorgeous head of golden waves, even if they definitely needed trimming.

  “Okay,” I said finally glancing in his direction. He was wearing an Avengers T-shirt and dark wash skinny jeans. He was still apparently into Marvel comics, if my memory from high school served me right. “If you don’t want your shirt trashed, you can either change or take it off. I’ll cover your shoulders with a towel, but no guarantees.”

  “I hate how itchy those little hairs feel on my neck,” he said, lifting the hem of his shirt. He quickly glanced over his shoulder and saw Elijah’s retreating form. “Only reason I’m doing this is because Elijah will keep bugging me about it.”

  “Understood. Not like I don’t know you’re only pretending to tolerate me.” Ignoring all that smooth skin, I reached for my leather case of scissors beneath the vanity. “Guess I don’t blame you. I can barely stand myself some days.”

  His eyebrows knit together. Shit, had I actually said that our loud?

  I turned away to grab one of the large bath towels from the linen closet.

  Just like that first night in the kitchen, I couldn’t help noticing his lean chest and the translucent, blond hairs that ran in a line down to his waistband. Was his hair that soft and light everywhere?

  His nipples were flat brown discs, and outside of the gym it’d been way too long since I’d been this close to a shirtless guy—at least one I was desperately attracted to. I tried thinking of anything else—like the pointy end of the scissor dropping on my toe—before I chubbed up right in front of him.

  He folded his shirt over the towel rack and faced his reflection in the vanity, a line of crimson rising along his cheeks. I zeroed in on the freckles peppered along his shoulders, tamping down the urge to lick a path with my tongue.

  I blanketed his skin with the towel before I got any more bright ideas, and his back became ramrod straight, his shoulders rigid as his gaze slid up to meet mine in the mirror.

  “So what do you want me to do?” He smelled like a mix of warm, spring rain and earthy, wet grass with a trace of antiseptic they most likely used at the groomers. I wanted to bury my nose in the nape of his neck and bathe in his familiar scent—all the things I never got to do back then.

  “Dunno. Just a good trim,” he mumbled. “I like to keep it long.”

  “Always have,” I said without thinking and as our gazes clashed and held, his eyes narrowed a fraction. His lower lashes were thinly lined with black today, making him look a world away from his nerdy, squeaky-clean, teenage self. But I’d admit I liked the edge the dark creases gave him.

  I cleared my throat, my fingers forking through the back of his hair to get a feel for the consistency—even though I knew damn well from memory that it was soft and fine. There was a quick and sudden intake of air and I could see his pulse jackhammering in his neck.

  Fuck, I did not want to make him uncomfortable, so it was better to get this over with as soon as possible.

  “The better idea would be for Brin to get in the tub, so the hair falls near the drain,” Elijah suddenly remarked from the doorway, startling us both. I nearly dropped the scissors, so lost I was in touching my high school crush.

  Brin whipped his head toward his friend. “I am not getting in the tub with Nick.”

  What the fuck did Brin think—that I was going to fondle him against his will? Force him to suck my cock? Goddamn it, now my pants were uncomfortably tight.

  Elijah barked out a laugh. “Dude, he’d stay on the outside. We should’ve thought of that earlier because the floor is a mess.”

  “True,” I replied, looking down at the dark leftover clippings on the white tiles.

  “Okay, whatever,” Brin said as he headed toward the clawfoot tub. “Let’s get this show on the road already.”

  “Fine by me,” I grumbled, suddenly regretting ever having made the offer.

  Brin pushed the shower curtain aside and gingerly stepped inside the white porcelain bath. “Christ, when was the last time I’ve been in a tub?”

  “Right?” Elijah replied. “But our friend Nick here makes it looks so enticing at least once a week. The bubbles, essential oils, soft music…like a damn spa or something.”

  “Shut it. There’s nothing wrong with enjoying a good bath.” I glared at him while Brin gaped at me. I was going to kick my roommate’s ass. “Now close your trap so we can do this.”

  “I’ll leave you to it then,” Elijah said as he sashayed through the door like some game show host on crack.

  “Just…get on your knees,” I remarked distractedly while reaching for the scissors again along with a towel to lay down in the bottom of the bathtub.

  Brin folded his arms and scowled at me. But behind that glare was a small flicker of something else I couldn’t quite identify. If my eyes weren’t deceiving me, it might’ve even been desire. Fat chance. “Seriously, dude?”

  “Shit, sorry.” Goddamn it, I was screwing up at every turn. “I didn’t mean…fuck, Brin. I just…” I shut my eyes and took a deep breath to calm my racing pulse.

  “What?” he asked in a tentative voice. “You just what?”

  When I opened my lids, he had dropped his arms and there was a pleading look in his gaze. “Look, I know I’m an asshole for what I did. But those times with you back then…goddamn…you…your eyes…your mouth…” Brin appeared to sway toward me as he was rapt with attention. “It’s not something I’ve ever easily forgotten and I wish…”

  I wished I didn’t fuck it up. I wished I had gotten the opportunity to kiss you. Really kiss you. Lick into your mouth. Taste your tongue.

  “Forgot to tell you,” Elijah called out from the hallway. Brin and I both groaned in
unison. “Stewart’s on his way over, so if you need me, you know where to find us…” His head swung around the open doorway and he waggled his eyebrows.

  “Please, spare us the details,” Brin mumbled and then finally knelt down on the towel. Not wanting to waste any more time, I stepped toward the tub and took the opportunity to begin combing the ends and dry-snipping his hair. It was the preferred method I’d picked up at the salon where I got my practical experience every month. Especially useful with his unmanageable waves, it allowed me to see the shape as I went along, instead of waiting for the curls to dry and bounce back.

  “You should just shave Brin’s head,” Elijah said with an evil air in his voice. “But he probably has one of those lumpy, misshapen skulls he hides with all that adorable hair.”

  “I will grab those scissors and murder you both,” Brin bit out as he gripped the edge of the tub.

  Elijah cracked up and when I joined in, Brin’s shoulders unwound further, which helped me relax in turn.

  “Hey, before I forget,” I called over my shoulder to Elijah. “My mom invited you to Sunday dinner again.”

  Elijah clapped his hands excitedly, like some damn kid. “I’d never pass up her famous lasagna.”

  “She actually invited the both of you,” I replied tentatively. “But it’s no big thing.”

  “You should come, Brin,” Elijah remarked. “His mom’s a good cook.”

  Brin shot Elijah a look that said in no uncertain terms he was pushing too hard. I had to agree. Even though it would be nice to have Brin come along. Sure he was constantly mad at me but I still enjoyed his company and wished we could be friends. Call me crazy.

  “Can’t. Busy,” he muttered. Even though I expected as much, my stomach roiled at how easily he’d come up with the lie.

  “Doing what exactly?” Elijah asked, tapping his foot on the tile.

  “Dude, really? How have I never noticed how up in my business you are?” Brin replied, balling his fist at his side. “Hopefully by then, I’ll be preparing to move back into my place.”

 

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