Mollify

by Xavier Neal

  Another smirk crawls on my face. “I’ve never had a complaint before.”

  The innocent flirt receives me a swat on the arm. “Your mother would kill you if she heard you hitting on me.”

  True story. Legs or Liz which is her real name, I think, used to be a thing with my dad before my parents got together. But that’s not my history to know or tell.

  “What can I do for you today?” I lean on the counter.

  “My cousin Becca just moved to town and is staying with me to take classes in the fall.” My eyes glance over her shoulder at a younger spitting image of Legs.

  It really is creepy to see a younger version of someone standing right behind them. Is this what you feel like when me and Dad stand beside each other?

  “Don’t even let it cross your mind Kid.” She points a stern finger at me. “Not a fucking possibility.”

  With a slight shoulder shrug I say, “No worries. I’ve already got someone else on my mind.”

  And by on my mind, I mean I haven’t been able to function with thoughts of her just popping up. Do you know how hard it is not to text her all day now that I know she’s just a short drive away? To study for a test the same time I’m picturing her naked? Not a good combination.

  Legs looks at me suspiciously. “I don’t know if that comforts me or makes me worry more. I know what your dad was like over your mom. I watched the beginning of that relationship almost tank and struggle to float before you showed up. Brace yourself is my warning.”

  Why do I feel like I need the warning?

  “Back on topic now,” Legs redirects the conversation. “Since she’s my cousin and not my daughter I need you to work some magic to get her under my account without all the extra fees and registration crap.”

  “No problem,” I assure clicking a few keys. “I can get that set up with you and Blaine can give her a tour of the facility.” Glancing to the side, I toss my head, “You’re up.”

  “Yes sir,” he replies like he should since we’re in front of customers.

  Yes, I’m the owner’s son and in charge when he’s away, but the position wasn’t just given to me. Well, it was, but I fucking earn it every minute I’m here. I swear. I work as much as I’m allowed between family and school. Making girls come until they think their pussy is gonna burst is just a hobby to pass the time. To fill the time that if I wasn’t making them scream would be occupied with self-doubt that I’m not good enough for the people who adopted me or how I wasn’t ever good enough for Megan and that’s why God took her away from me.

  “Keep your eyes up Romeo,” Legs advises him.

  Blaine nods. “Yes ma’am.”

  “Oh don’t ma’am me. Makes me feel so old.” She frowns at me. “Am I old?”

  “No.” I cock a smirk. “But too old for me, or so you say.”

  “Mmhm,” she hums as Blaine swipes his badge entering the bottom level of the gym.

  Our gym is what workout nuts consider holy ground. It includes pool areas, spa and massage areas, a healthy snack bar, private classes, group classes, and normal gym equipment. We have been voted best gym in the state both years we’ve been open. 7th and 5th in country. We’re hoping for number 3 this year.

  “Who’s this girl you have on your mind already?”

  The only girl I’ve been with in the last couple of years whose pair of gorgeous legs I didn’t dive in between within the first few hours we hung out. What? With my reputation, I don’t typically have to wait longer than 45 minutes before they less than subtly ask, or beg in some cases, to see why I got the nickname I have.

  Not answering, I keep typing on the computer, “Why? You wanna warn her to stay away from me too?”

  “I’ve met you,” Legs replies with attitude. “Might be doing the girl a favor.” When I glance up she shrugs. “Or drive her right into your arms. All girls like the bad boys they can fix.”

  “I’m not broken.” My eyes dart back down ready to type in the new information.

  “Yeah,” her voice drops to what feels like a whisper. “Your dad wasn’t either.”

  The words force my eyes to hers. Still in a dropped tone she states, “To the right girl you never will be. Ready for my info?”

  I nod slowly.

  Is that true? I mean, I don’t think I’m broken any more, even if sometimes late at night the nightmares of my past become too much to push through. Those are the nights I sneak into Little Bit’s room and fall asleep in her rocking chair or on the floor. There’s something about being close to her that chases those demons away. Like knowing she needs me, that she loves me, that she wants me in the family, having no clue about where I came from, that soothes something inside. There’s only one person who’s ever had that same effect on me. Her family once loved me like I was their own too. Maybe I am still broken...but I don’t think Megan has ever thought that before. Do you?

  Chapter 6

  Megan

  Walking out of class I stare at the text message trying to bury the anxiety.

  Marcus: It’s not over between us until I say Megan.

  “Fatal attraction much?” My best friend, Olivia grunts over my shoulder.

  “I don’t know what to do Liv. I’ve broken up with him now more than once and he refuses to accept it.”

  “Creepy,” she says under her breath as we head down the sidewalk in the direction of my car parked in the parking garage. “And that’s me ignoring the fact that he hits you.”

  “Liv,” I hush her.

  Tossing her black wavy hair over her shoulder she rolls her eyes. “I’m not afraid to be heard by his minions. Let them fucking hear me!” She shouts and I tug her arm so her body is closer to mine. “He should be thankful I didn’t know sooner. I vote we let my bigger brother Mario handle him.”

  “No,” my denial is quick. “It’s my problem. I’ll deal with it.” Under my breath I mutter, “Somehow.”

  I know the only way to be safe from him is to get the fuck out of that apartment, but even then, he can find me. I have so little in my own name. No car. No bank account. No apartment. All because he insisted on it being that way.

  “Oh no you don’t,” Liv interrupts my thoughts. “Don’t use that whole ‘I don’t have anything’ as an excuse to postpone getting the fuck out of that apartment any longer.”

  Can she hear us?

  “We’re gonna start moving your shit out and into my spare room, just like we’ve been planning. You’ve been stashing a little cash here and there and we’ll figure out the rest later. You have to get completely out of that situation, away from him, before he kills you Megan.”

  “That’s a bit of a stretch isn’t it?”

  “Is it?” Liv stops walking. “Your face. Your neck. The one time down the stairs. You tell me where it’s gonna stop at this rate.”

  Don’t agree with her!

  “Can we go get some frozen yogurt?” My change in subject causes her to lower her eyes to a glare.

  I really need a cookie...

  “Usted puede llevar una vaca al agua pero no puede hacer que beben.”

  “Don’t do that.” I shake my head at her. “Don’t go all Tex-Mex on me.”

  “That’s food. What you want is Spanglish.”

  “What I want is frozen yogurt and a giant cookie,” my correction has her tossing her head back in laughter.

  “Fine. Frozen yogurt and then we start moving shit out of that apartment. Deal?”

  I’d make a deal with the devil for the right kind of cookies. Why do you smirk at me when I talk about food like that?

  “Deal,” my unsure whisper is followed by me looking at the new text from Marcus.

  Marcus: I’ve warned you once Megan. The next time I won’t be so nice.

  Clicking away the message before it can be seen, I push my phone in my shoulder bag and stroll past the parking garage for the little local place that serves the best frozen yogurt close to campus.

  Liv tells me about her history teacher she has the hots fo
r, describing his attire and his Irish accent, down to what she imagines it sounds like in bed, the entire time doing a great job demolishing the knot of fear that’s gathered in my stomach.

  A couple steps in front of the shop, I hear my name being called from a familiar voice. A voice that belongs to a set of lips that sent me home soaking wet a few nights ago.

  Which is something I didn’t even know my body could do! I’ve never...you know what? Never mind. If I admit it out loud the mortification from it will flush my face too fast to be acceptable.

  “Megan,” my name leaves his lips and instantly the muscles between my legs clench.

  Seriously? Now that’s not normal. Even I know that.

  “Hey,” I nervously reply adjusting my bag.

  “You must be Dean,” Liv coos behind me.

  “I am.” He stands proudly, his t-shirt briefly flashing me a hint of his v.

  Those things are real? Marcus is slim without much definition, not to mention we don’t...well...we didn’t have sex very often.

  “I take it you’ve heard of me?”

  “Calm it down lover boy, she only mentioned you a little,” Liv snaps protectively.

  “But she mentioned me.” His eyes land on mine. “That’s all that matters to me.”

  “Oh you’re cute,” she mutters loudly before nudging me forward.

  Don’t encourage her to push me. Hands are not for pushing!

  “I think so.” Dean’s hand stretches for mine. “I’m hoping Megan does too.”

  “Does too what?” Another male voice pops from behind him.

  Immediately Liv points a sharp finger at him on a gasp, “You!”

  “Oh shit,” the guy mumbles.

  Get the feeling this isn’t gonna be a good moment for anyone?

  “You lousy piece of shit,” Liz bites harshly.

  “Whoa,” Dean says, his hand still making contact with mine. I let out a small shiver and he gives me a wink.

  Damn it. He wasn’t supposed to see that!

  “You two know each other?” Dean glances at his friend.

  “This is the tool that I got a taste of at that party a couple weekends ago, promised to call, and never did.” Liv snaps. “Come to find out he promised three other girls the same fucking thing.”

  “You sound classy,” I sarcastically swoon.

  The guy shrugs a shoulder. “When I met you, you had just stopped dancing on a damn table!”

  “You smelled like strawberry wine coolers!”

  “Must’ve been one of the other four that night!” he chomps back.

  Carefully Dean slides us out of the line of fire as the two of them go at it. Using his back to push open the frozen yogurt shop door he says, “Best friend?”

  “Yup. You?”

  “Yup.”

  “Think we should stop them before they get arrested for disturbing the peace?”

  “There’s only one thing I wanna do right now.” His tongue wets his lips as his eyes drop to mine. Before I can fathom a comeback he kisses me softly, mouth even more tempting than it was the first time. I invite his tongue to wrap around mine with a simple knocking. A groan comes out of him at the same time I feel my ass bump against one of the tables.

  Am I really making out in public? What is this boy doing to me?

  Dean pulls his lips back and whispers, “Go out with me again?” Prepared to object, at least until I get my shit out of Marcus’ apartment, or ditch the death target Liv is making me think is planted on my back, I drop my bottom lip, which immediately gets sucked into his mouth. After a short whimper from me he releases. “Is that a yes?”

  “Yes...”

  “Good.” He lifts my hand to his lips. “Because I realized I spent all night talking about my crazy family and didn’t get to talk about you and yours.”

  The fact that I don’t have family any more has me looking away at the menu board over his shoulder.

  He knew them as well as I did. He knew the good times. He knew what it was like when I had a loving safe environment like he has now. I can’t talk about them. I won’t.

  “Hey.” His hand moves my chin to look at him back in the eyes. “I didn’t mean to be a jerk and so self-centered—”

  “You were anything but a jerk,” my correction makes him smirk.

  “I promise to redeem myself for my runaway mouth...” He lowers his face to mine again, lips close enough to make me wanna grab him by his t-shirt to pull us together. “By letting it runaway a different way.”

  Guys really say shit like that? Holy shit!

  His lips prepare to touch mine again when his friend’s voice croaks, “I’m not eating yogurt from here! Not with the ice queen here! I don’t wanna end up permanently stuck in winter like that movie! Let’s go Mr. O!”

  Confused I tilt my head. “Mr. O?”

  With a pained expression he says, “I’ll explain later. Promise. Dinner tomorrow night?”

  “Sounds good.”

  Dean starts to slip away but takes two steps back to place another quick kiss on my lips. After it he sighs, “Tomorrow.”

  I nod as his friend drags him out at the same time Liv storms over obviously fuming. However the second she takes a moment to look at me she stops and a grin is replaced.

  “Holy shit Megan, you’re glowing!”

  “I am not.”

  Shhh you. I am not!

  “You so are...” Giggling she bites her bottom lip briefly. “This is how you look when you’re in love.”

  “I’m not in love with him.”

  “That’s little Dean Cofax—”

  “Kellar now.”

  “Yeah, the same little boy who you thought you’d spend forever with, all grown up, and all ready to worship you from the way his mouth couldn’t stay closed in your presence. Yeah....you’ve both got a hint of childhood love trying very hard to grow up. Let it.” A small smile comes on my face. “Maybe he’ll kill Marcus and Mario won’t have to go to jail again...”

  I chuckle and elbow her before heading to the menu board.

  Is it wrong that I hope she’s right? That I hope he’ll fall in love with me the way I once fell for him? The way I am falling for him all over again. No one falls in love this quickly, no matter how many cute texts they’re sent. No matter if he looks at them like they are the only person with a heartbeat that matters. God. Of course it’s wrong to hope she is. I don’t deserve that kind of love. I don’t deserve anything.

  Chapter 7

  Dean

  Asshole called me Mr. O in front of her. Did you see that? Damage control 101 has to happen. She can’t feel like she’s every other girl. Megan could never be like every other girl. She never will be that.

  Walking through the front door I hear a sound that I’m starting to dread.

  “You’ve got to be shitting me Logan!”

  Don’t get me wrong. They aren’t picture perfect. They fight. They make up. They fight again, but it’s always clear the love they have for each other. I just...I hate having to hear it some days more than others.

  “How is this my fucking fault?”

  “Whoa. Whoa. Whoa.” I slide into the kitchen dropping my bag next to the bar stool I plop myself on. “Why’s World War Three about to break out in the kitchen?”

  “Because your father decided that a press conference is more important than his three year old.”

  “Don’t ever say that.” He growls aggressively slamming down his hands on the bar end opposite of her and me.

  “What’s wrong?” I cautiously question.

  “I have a work function tomorrow night. Your father was supposed to be home with Faith,” she explains eyes still stuck on him. “However he is under the impression his life and his career are the only ones that matter in this family!”

  “How was I supposed to know you had something!”

  “Pay attention!”

  By the tones and language I assume Faith must still be at preschool.

  “Pay attention?�
�

  “Mom probably reminded you,” I mumble my two cents.

  “Really Kid?” Dad shoots me a glare.

  “I’m just sayin’.” I innocently shrug. “Knowing Mom she sent you a text two days ago reminding you.” Quickly he reaches into his pocket and starts scrolling. “Then she probably set a reminder for...let’s see it’s usually about an hour before my day starts, so for you probably 8:50 tomorrow morning.” He briefly looks up and taps a few buttons his shoulders sinking further by the second. “And then of course there’s her magical sticky note board. Speaking of...” I stand and stroll over to it grabbing one of the green sticky notes, scribble quickly on it, and put it on tomorrow.

  “How am I supposed to read the Family Feud style board?” He grumbles tossing his phone on the counter, his case dwindling.

  “It’s easy. Mom is pink stickies. Little Bit is polka dots. You’re blue and I’m green. Family events are yellow.” I explain. “It’s pretty simple.”

  With a heavy sigh he says, “So basically I fucked up?”

  “Yes.” Mom snips. “Majorly.”

  “Can’t you just reschedule your...whatever it is, you have to do.” His hand motion seems to irk her more.

  Not clever on his part.

  “Just...reschedule one of the biggest events in town for the night because my dickhead husband couldn’t remember to get his head out of his own ass to take care of the child he wanted? No I don’t think I can do that!” After a huff she says, “And you wonder why I don’t fucking want more kids! You’re not here for the ones you have! You’re not even here for me!”

  “One argument at a time!”

  “Hey,” I interrupt leaning against the fridge. “Volume. Faith still at school?”

  “Yes,” Mom snaps at me. “Because someone was supposed to pick her up on his way home from his late lunch with Jake and instead came home to tell me of an impromptu press conference out of town tomorrow!”

  “You forgot to pick up Little Bit?” Turning back to mom I offer, “Want me to grab her?”