by Calinda B
“Do you have a change of clothes?” I choose to ignore her allegations.
She shakes her head.
“First drawer you’ll find t-shirts, and jogging pants are in the last one.”
“Thanks.”
“No problem.”
I lock myself in the bathroom, shower fast, and then hurry to my bed because it’s the one thing I want most at this moment. I do take a peek at Harlow before heading to my bedroom to find she’s changed into my clothes and already passed out. Exhausted, aren’t we?
In bed, under the blankets, I’m trying to think about the last six hours. The dinner with my family, how great everything was with Cassie, and how confusing our night was. Sex can be meaningless, but she’s under the impression we have something and is therefore planning for a future with me. Then there’s Harlow crashing here; she’s in danger, and I want to be there for her.
Sometimes it’s easier to take life one day at a time. I guess I’ll have to live like this.
Waking up to the sound of my phone, I’m not happy. “Hello.”
“TJ, Harlow’s with you, right?”
“Who is this?” I ask.
“Ramsey wants you to keep Harlow with you for a while. Since you’re new to the Club, people don’t know you. You’ll both be safe. Ramsey is still at the hospital, but will be moved to a rehabilitee center for a few days soon. I’ll send my driver to your place straightaway with Harlow’s stuff.”
“Huh, that’s fine. Thanks for asking. I’ll be waiting for your driver.”
Fuck that. I hang up. First, he woke me up, and second, he acts like a fucking sergeant. I don’t even know who the fuck I was talking to, and now I have to get up to get her stuff. My sleep is far from being over, though. I’m going back to bed as soon as I get this done with.
Before I get to brush my teeth, there’s knocking at my door. I run to open it before they knock again and wake up Harlow. A man nods at me then hands me a large pink suitcase.
“Thank you, sir,” he says then turns around and enters the waiting elevator.
“O–kay,” I say to no one.
Leaving the suitcase by the door, I return to my bed. It doesn’t take any time before I fall asleep again. My bed is so much more comfortable than Cassie’s.
“What the fuck?” Harlow’s cussing blares out from the living room.
Maybe there’s something wrong with her, but I don’t want to wake up yet and try to ignore her. No such luck, though. Tossing and turning, I can’t seem to fall back asleep. There’s also a bunch of noise, although I have no idea what the hell she’s doing out there, stopping me from getting those much needed extra hours of sleep. Against my will, I end up getting out of bed for good. Stumbling to the living room, I look around then spot Harlow in my kitchen. The countertop is filled with pretty much everything once contained in my cabinets. Again.
“Did you lose something? Or are you looking for something? I don’t have any diamonds here.”
She starts laughing. “You’re a bachelor, and I bet I’m the first woman to be in here. I’m reorganizing your kitchen so it’ll be functional. I didn’t get to finish the job last time.”
“It was fine before.” Is she insulting me now, or what? I knew where everything was. Everything had its place.
“I’m sorry, but it wasn’t. Besides, it’s been bugging since the first time I came here,” she says, dead serious.
“Are you OCD?”
“I’m obsessive and compulsive about many things, yes.”
“Am I supposed to help you?”
“Nope.” She stacks the plates by size. Same goes with the bowls and glasses.
“I’m hungry. Can I fix something?” Am I really asking permission to eat in my own kitchen with the food I paid for?
She sighs. “Give me thirty minutes and then we’ll cook something.”
“We?”
She stops her reorganization and stares at me. “I saw the suitcase by the door, which means I’m here for a while.”
“They didn’t give me—or you—a choice.”
“They never do when you’re a young one. You have to listen, agree, and see the plan through.”
“Right. I must have made a great first impression when I did everything but follow the plan.”
“You’re stubborn like your father, I think they expected it. Like fifty-fifty.”
Sniggering, I leave Harlow to do her thing while I take possession of the TV and couch. There’s nothing interesting on the sport channels and I’m not in the mood for the daily news. Cartoons are an option, so I watch them until they bore me to hell. Then, I start flipping again. Yawning while my stomach is begging for food, I could certainly drink a smoothie right now, or eggs would be good, too. Just… something, you know?
While I’m looking at the TV, distracted, I start to think about Harlow. If she’s going to stay here for a while, she can’t keep sleeping on my couch. Perhaps I should offer her the extra room. It’s missing a mattress, but there is a bed frame in there. Remembering my parents used to have a spare mattress, I look over my shoulder to check on Harlow. She’s not done. Far from it. Alright, then. Extending my hand to my phone, I dial my mom’s phone number.
“TJ?”
“Hi, Mom.”
“Is everything okay?” She sounds worried.
“Yeah, no problem at all. I was calling to see if you still had the mattress from the guest room, I would like to borrow it if you do.”
“I think so. Your dad placed it in the garage, but it was all wrapped in plastic so it’s like new.”
Great. I’m pretty sure Harlow won’t mind if I leave her for an hour. She’ll have better control of my place. I bet she’ll love that.
“Hey, Harlow. I have to run an errand, but I’ll be back soon, okay?”
“Huh? Are you keeping me hostage?” She gives me her most angelic smile.
What have I done in my life to deserve this smile? “If you were my hostage, you would be tied somewhere, not in here fixing up my kitchen.”
“That almost sounds like flirting. I think you should go now, before it gets all weird up in here.”
Staring at her, she’s blushing. “You’re such a girl. You act like you’re all tough, but you’re not. If it’s weird, let it be. You started it, assume it.” Her jaw drops to the floor; she’s speechless for the first time since I’ve met her. “I’ll be right back.”
Was I rude to her? No. Yes. I don’t know. Maybe. She’s the one who started the hostage game. Ugh! How am I going to live with a girl? I mean, a woman. I’ve never lived with one before. Not even Cassie.
This is fucked up.
My mom was way too excited hearing about my “roommate.” She even had clean sheets and an extra pillow waiting for me. Which was good, because I hadn’t thought about them.
Walking through the building of my apartment with a twin mattress is quite the way to draw attention. I’m still dressed in my jogging pants, kind of sloppy.
When I get home, the kitchen is clean as fuck and Harlow is nowhere to be found. She has to be somewhere, though. I don’t think she would leave without telling me. Once I drop the mattress onto the frame, I grab a few of my things out of her new room. Because I’m nice, I fix up the bed the best I can, but if she worries about the bedroom like the kitchen, Harlow will undoubtedly redo it herself. Oh, well. Not that I care.
“Harlow?” I call out to her.
“Give me a minute.” Her voice echoes from the bathroom.
Being the gentleman I am, most of the time, I bring her luggage into the room. For some reason, this whole thing is awkward. I have Ramsey’s daughter living with me. Some punks are seeking revenge on her family, but I have to be cool about it and pretend everything’s fucking fabulous. At least she’s not as bad as that first time I met her, she’s calmer now. Somehow.
“TJ? Where’s my suitcase?”
My head snaps up at the sound of her voice. Harlow’s small body is wrapped inside one of my towels, her wet
curly hair covering her shoulders. I didn’t expect to see her like this and judging by the shade on her cheeks, neither did she.
“Right here.” I point to her suitcase. “This is your room while you’re here, unless you’d prefer the couch?”
“The view’s nice,” she smiles, “…thanks. Um, can I get dressed now?”
“Oh, yes. Sorry.” Stepping outside her room, the air between us is different. Our friendship can’t be that way. The attraction is there, though; some kind of sexual tension is building between us. I’m dealing with enough already.
Going to my room to shower, I promise myself not to get too close to her. Cassie is already a lot to manage. Dealing with two women would be suicidal. There’s no way I can handle it, I say to myself, and then realize that’s what I’ve been doing for a week now.
Fuck Ramsey. Things are about to get to complicated.
8
Spending yet another evening with Cassie is like playing a game of chess. It takes strategy. While we’ve been cuddling for hours, I’ve caught her looking at me a few times. You know when you stare at someone with a question to be asked, but don’t have the guts to do so? Well, I’ve been feeling like that person, the one being stared at.
Tired of that feeling, I move away from her offering to grab something to drink and eat from downstairs, in the kitchen. Finding the fresh brownies the maid prepared, I’m thankful. A few squares on a plate, and two tall glasses of cold milk will do.
Cassie’s looking for something to watch when I join her on the couch again. She queues up an episode of the Gilmore Girls, and then puts it on mute.
Wonder if she managed to find the guts to talk while I was away from her? I wait for it.
“Will we ever get engaged or married?”
Fuck! Cassie wants to have that talk. I’m not sure what to say. The bigger the lie gets, the harder the breakup will be for her. I can’t do this to her.
“I think we should take things slowly for now, Cass. We aren’t in a hurry, and need to get to know one another again. We’re still young.”
“We aren’t that young, TJ. Getting married takes at least a year of planning, and after the wedding, well, I want to be a mother. Before I’m thirty.”
This is a question which needs to be answered the right way, with the right words. I close my eyes and sigh. “It seems like you have our whole future planned out, Cass.” Not the best opening, but it gives me more time to think.
“Of course, I have plans. Our relationship is important to me.”
“To me, too, Cass, but I’m still figuring out how not to fall onto the same path that led us to breaking up before.”
“Maybe I could move in with you? I’ve never seen your place.”
My heart may have stopped beating for a second.
That is a big NO. This can’t ever happen.
“I already have a roommate and the apartment isn’t big enough,” I blurt then wonder why I keep lying to her. It’s a big apartment, especially for New York City, with enough room to fit a small family.
By the look on her face, I can tell she doesn’t like the news of me having a roommate. “Who is he?”
“You don’t know her. She’s the daughter of my dad’s best friend.”
Cassie’s eyes narrow to dark pinpoints. “Her name?” She’s pissed, or jealous—or both.
“Harlow.”
A quiet Cassie is never good.
“Can I meet her? So I can see who I’m up against.”
It’s not a competition. I shouldn’t have mentioned Harlow at all. “Harlow isn’t a typical girl. She doesn’t really hang out with girls.”
“You’re hiding her from me. Why? Are you ashamed of me?”
And here we go. Shit is about to hit the fan.
“No, Cass, I’m not. It’s just the way it is. You’ll meet her someday. Harlow’s going through a lot right now, though. She needs time.”
“Fine.”
Whenever Cassie says ‘fine,’ it never is. “Come on, Cassie. There isn’t any danger or competition from her. You’re nothing like her. Look at you.” She looks down at herself, at her enlarged breasts, and smiles. “Harlow is the girl-next-door type. You and me, we’re all good, okay?”
She nods, and I think I’ve got this under control.
For now.
I hope.
“You kept it from me. You didn’t tell me,” she murmurs, her disappoint in me apparent.
Or maybe not.
“I didn’t think it would matter. Her presence makes no difference to me.” Another lie. I know exactly what my words will do to her, they’ll bring doubts to her mind, which isn’t a good thing. Kissing her cheek and enveloping her into my arms, I hope for the best.
She snuggles into me. “I wanted to tell you an idea I had. Before my parents return, I want to throw a small party with my friends.”
“Sounds great. Where?”
“Here, at my place.”
Like a wakeup call, her request brightens my brain with a vivid light. This is my moment, the perfect opportunity.
“Can I do anything to help you organize it all?” I say taking a bite of my brownie.
“No, me and the girls got it covered.”
For a moment I worry she might not invite me, but then I realize this is Cassie, up to her old mind games. She feels threatened by Harlow, so now she’s trying to make me feel the same way. Not going to work.
“Good. If you change your mind, let me know.” I kiss her lips like everything’s fine then turn the TV volume back on.
“TJ, I love you.”
“Yeah… me, too.” I shove the rest of the brownie into my mouth and sit back on the couch trying to forget the words I’ve just said.
Hooking her arms and legs with mine, Cassie settles back into her cuddling ways, a smile on her face this time. She seems content with our conversation. However, on my side, I don’t want to think about this again or have another conversation like this with her, ever. Engagements and weddings are not going to happen between us, no fucking way.
“I want you with me at the party, baby. You can bring Harlow, too. She might enjoy a night out.”
“When is it? I’ll ask her.” Time to start planning more seriously.
“Two weeks from now.”
Plenty of time.
I’m here with her, but my mind is elsewhere. I have to think about my plan and how to execute it in the quickest way possible. Harlow’s experience in this department might be handy now, because I’m realizing I don’t know anything.
“And you’ll need to wear a suit. I’ll be wearing a pretty dress. We want to be classy.”
Does Harlow own a dress? I wonder.
“Okay, I’ll wear a suit with the bow tie you like so much.”
She nods and kisses me. Sometimes it doesn’t take much to make her happy.
Like most nights, she falls asleep in my arms, and then I carry her to bed. Ensuring she’s out for the count, I creep into her closet and pull out my phone. Opening the hidden cupboard, I snap several shots of the safe, then put everything back the way I found it and hurry back out to her room. She hasn’t moved, but turns into me when I lay down next to her. While I don’t always stay the night, tonight I do.
Because it’s part of the plan.
When I get home the next day, Harlow is still sleeping. Judging by the empty Crown Royal bottle next to her, she won’t be up for another couple of hours. At least. I knew I shouldn’t have left her alone, that wasn’t a smart move. She has too much on her mind; I should give her more support and visit her father with her.
“I’m an idiot,” I murmur to the silent apartment.
While I clean up the bottle and plates left on the counter, guilt once again takes possession of me. Whether it’s guilt for what I’m doing to Cassie or what I’m not doing for Harlow, there is not a day that goes by where some form of guilt doesn’t make me sick to my stomach. This feeling will be the death of me—if I don’t end this relationship the night
of the party that is. Although I’m not sure I can even go two more weeks. Never have I been this type of person. Lie upon lie keep falling out of my mouth, and the guilt is eating me.
Cleaning the dishes, I’m distracted with my thoughts and the things I need to discuss with Harlow. So, when I dig in the sink for something else to clean, it’s not a surprise when I cut the palm of my hand. Deep. “Fuck!” I scream, not in pain but in frustration. With my other hand, I grab a towel and hold it tight around the injured hand. “I’m so done with this shit.”
Harlow’s room door cracks opened. “Are you okay?”
My eyes are glued on my hands, and I’m dizzy because of how much red is everywhere. I hate blood. I’m not strong this time, I’m weak, and the burning pain in my hand is growing.
“What the hell, TJ? What have you done?”
“I… I was just doing the dishes.”
She moves my towel-holding hand away from the injury. “You’re pale, look away,” Harlow instructs while pulling my hand under some cool water. “Looks like it’s your turn to hurt yourself.”
When she pushes my hand farther under the water I hiss through clenched teeth, “I could have lived well without it. This just adds to my wonderful life.”
“Oh, I love when you’re in a good mood. So much more entertaining.” Harlow gets a clean, dry towel from the drawer and applies pressure on my palm with it. “If you want to talk about who has the shittiest or most wonderful life, you might want to start now. My list of facts is long, and may take all night.”
I don’t want to start a fight with her; she’s the only person who might understand me at this point. “Harlow, we all have our problems. I think both of us are struggling right now.”
She leaves without saying anything.
Thinking back at what I’ve just said, I wonder if I’ve hurt her. Still silent, she returns with ointment and bandage supplies from my bathroom. From the stash I’d acquired when she was attacked.
“It looks like it’s you now, who needs me.”
“More than you know.” My voice is a murmur because of how uncertain I am saying those words. Our eyes connect, and I can see the questions forming in hers.