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Dare Me (A MFM Ménage Romance)

Page 46

by Vivian Ward


  He walks into the kitchen and opens his liquor cabinet.

  “Brandy, vodka, and tequila on the shelf and,” he opens the fridge. “White wine or beer in the refrigerator. What would you like?”

  “Do you have any mixers to go with any of that stuff?”

  “Mixers? Hold on, let me see if I have a pink boa,” he teases. “Wait! I think I have one.”

  “Shut up!” I playfully slap him. “You don’t have to be an ass.”

  “Seriously, I think the best I can do is a bottle of Mio. I have lemonade flavor that you can mix something with, but aside from that, I don’t. I drink everything straight up.”

  “I don’t know how you do it.”

  I opt for a glass of white wine and plop back down on the couch.

  “What are you going to do with your earnings?” he asks.

  It’s a fair question. I haven’t told him much about me since we’ve run into each other.

  Come to think about it; this is the first chance the two of us have had just to talk, hang out and act like a couple of friends and I’m grateful for the opportunity.

  “I have some serious debt that I need to pay off,” I sip my wine. “And then, I want to put some money in the bank.”

  “Debts? I can’t imagine you owing anyone money.”

  “No, it’s nothing like that,” I explain. “I’m not in any trouble, but I have some bills to take care of, and I need to get a car. I think getting a car is top on my list.”

  “What will you do once you have a car and have paid off your bills?” he asks.

  “I’m not sure. I’ve been searching for a job for a while now but haven’t had much luck. It’s like I’m one resume too late or not qualified enough or over-qualified.”

  These drinks are hitting me and I’m feeling a little hot. I put my hand on my forehead, moving my hair out of the way to cool myself off.

  “Since when did the job market get so complicated? Remember the days when you used to be able to apply for a job, and you got it?”

  “You have a job,” he says.

  “What? Oh, no. This is not my job.”

  “Why not? You’re good at it. You know the game, you’re making money at it—good money, might I add. What’s wrong with taking a little icing off the top of the cake?”

  He moves behind me and begins to rub my shoulders.

  I tense up at first, unsure if I want him touching me, but it feels so good that I feel myself loosening up, becoming putty in his hands.

  “Taking icing off the cake? What’s that supposed to mean?” I ask.

  “That you can have your cake and eat it, too. There’s no reason that you can’t make a few good bucks and keep doing it. You said you'd put the rest of the money up once you have your bills caught up and a car. What are you going to save it for?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe open my own business? Or maybe I’ll just get a regular job and have some money in the bank for a rainy day. Or maybe I won’t even make it that far. I don’t know if I like doing this.”

  “You love doing this because it’s fun, it’s easy to do, and you’re good at it. You’re not quitting on me; I won’t let you.”

  “Do you know what your brother would say or do if he found out about all this?” I ask.

  “I don’t care. He already has it all. The successful business, daddy’s approval, the girl of my dreams. He has it all, and I have what? This?” he waves his arm around his livingroom. “This apartment?”

  “Zack,” I say, putting my hand on his arm.

  I want to apologize as I look deep into those emerald eyes of his but I can’t. I can’t say a word.

  Instead, I lean in and put my head on his shoulder and sigh.

  “Zack, not everything is always as it appears. I mean, your brother and me, we aren’t,” I let my voice trail off.

  “What? You and my brother aren't what?” he tries to draw it out of me.

  “Nothing, nevermind.”

  “No, I want to know,” he sits up, pushing me off of him. “Tell me.”

  “We’re not exactly official. I mean, we go out on dates and spend a lot of time together but it’s not like he’s announced to anyone that I’m his girlfriend. I’m not sure where our relationship stands.”

  He wraps his arms back around me, enveloping me in his warmth and strength, resting his head on top of mine.

  “You two looked pretty serious at the wedding. What was all that about?”

  “I’m not sure. I think he has good intentions, but I’m not so sure that he wants me exclusively.”

  “Why?” he probes further.

  “We have a lot of fun together, but I think it’s odd that he never introduces me as his girlfriend when we go to dinner parties, or I meet a new client of his.”

  “How does he introduce you?”

  I sigh. I’m not totally sure that I should be telling him all of this, but the liquor is making it easier to talk to someone about our relationship. Since Karli’s wedding, I haven’t bothered her with anything, and she’s the closest friend that I have. It feels good to talk to someone about it finally.

  “His date.”

  “You mean he doesn’t even give you the courtesy of saying that the two of you are a couple?”

  He sounds angry.

  “No, I mean, he doesn’t disrespect me in any way. Don’t get me wrong. Maybe I shouldn’t even be talking to you about all of this.”

  “You should tell him, Joline. Tell him that you at least deserve a fucking title. You are unbelievable, and he’s lucky to have a woman like you dangling off his arm. He’s such an asshole.”

  I had no idea that Zack would get this angry. He runs his hands through his soft hair out of frustration.

  “I’m sorry, this was all a mistake,” I say, reaching for my purse. “I’ll call a cab,” I make my way toward the door.

  “No, please, don’t go.”

  He grabs my hand and pulls me back down on the couch with him. His eyes are pleading with me to stay.

  “It’s okay,” I assure him as the sofa swallows me up. “Don’t talk about your brother like that. I don’t want to come between the two of you. Maybe he just doesn’t realize how it makes me feel.”

  He pulls my hand up to his lips and kisses the back of it.

  “He’s one lucky asshole if I’ve ever seen one. I promise, no more brother bashing even though I hate him sometimes.”

  The whole irony of the situation makes me laugh, and I can’t contain it.

  “Oh my god,” I giggle. “We’re not the couple, yet we’re fighting like one as we talk about all of these feelings.”

  “How about a toast?” he asks.

  “A toast? To what?”

  “To us. To our new relationship—business and personal. I think we’re going to make great partners.”

  As the two of us clinked our glasses together, I wasn’t sure if he meant partners or partners.

  I could feel the heat radiating from my face as I greedily gulped down the last of my wine.

  “Well, I had better get going. Thank you so much for inviting me over and listening to me. It was good catching up.”

  Scrambling to the front door, he grabs me by the waist and pulls me back into his apartment. Our faces are only inches apart when the energy of my body finally stops from his sudden grasp of me.

  “Wait,” he puts his hands on my hips. “Don’t be scared of me.”

  “I’m not.”

  I lie because what just happened—mainly our conversation since we got into his apartment—has me a bit freaked out.

  “M’kay,” he says, kissing me on the cheek. “I’ll call you with the next location as soon as the rest of the crew decides on it.”

  “Okay,” I stare, mesmerized by his handsome looks.

  “You sure you don’t want me to give you a ride home? With that hundred G’s on you?”

  For a moment, I forgot how much money I was even carrying on me, but I’d rather take my chances. The odds of me gett
ing mugged in an area like this are slim to none.

  “I’m good. See you later.”

  I call a taxi on my way down to the front lobby and wait inside the building for it to arrive. Even though my odds of getting robbed are slim to none, I’d rather go with the option of none.

  During the cab ride home, I decide not to tell Trent about my evening if he asks for details. I don’t want to lie to him.

  Isn’t it ironic?

  Isn’t omission of guilt a form of lying?

  Suddenly, I feel more guilty than ever before.

  Chapter 13

  My head is swimming with information from the last conversation that I had with Zack.

  How could I have missed it? How did I not see the reason for the struggle of their relationship?

  Two brothers were growing up in the same household, with the same parents, yet light years apart because of the ways they were both treated by their parents. I guess it all makes sense when you put two and two together and start adding up the math.

  Trent was their dad’s golden child, and their mother tried to iron out any wrinkles that were left behind when Zack was excluded from things with his brother and father.

  It bothers me to see both of them in this situation, and I want to help them; though, I’m not sure if I have the power to do that.

  Zack’s conversation with Jenny is still troubling me.

  I’m not sure why I allowed myself to think that someone like him would be completely single. Maybe I thought so because he hadn’t mentioned anyone being in the picture and the one girl—Angie—who I thought was, isn’t. Even though he doesn’t consider Jenny, a girlfriend, she seems very much like one.

  What’s odd is that he doesn’t appear to be happy with her. Not that he’s unhappy, but he’s not “happy” either. It’s like he’s stuck in a neutral place with her. Fuck buddies, friends with benefits, whatever you want to call it.

  Maybe part of his problem is that he is so good looking. Women expect him to be a man whore because of this, so he uses it to his advantage and sleeps around a lot.

  It probably doesn’t help that he has such an attractive smile with a charismatic personality. I’ve always been drawn to him, even when I shouldn’t have been—including now.

  But right now, I need to push all of this out of my head. At least for a while because Trent will be here in a couple of hours to pick me up. We’re going out for dinner, and then possibly drinks.

  Wiping the steam from the mirror, I crack the bathroom door to let in some fresh air to help remove the thick fog from the shower and put some moisturizer on my face.

  “Are you going out again tonight?” my dad asks from the hall.

  “Trent’s coming to pick me up in just a bit. I thought you’d be gone?”

  We continue talking through the crack in the door as I try to slip into my robe before heading out to my room so I can figure out what to wear.

  “I was supposed to leave an hour ago, but I was hoping Earl would call me to let me know if he needs a ride or not.”

  Earl is one of his friends who hangs out in the clique that they’re all part of and he often relies on my dad for rides.

  “Dad,” I open the door, tying my robe. “You can’t waste your whole life sitting around, waiting to see if others need your help. You should go on with the rest of your friends. If he needs a ride, I’m sure he’ll call.”

  “Yeah, I guess you’re right.” He hugs me. “When did you become so smart? And so beautiful? You look like your mother.”

  “Thanks, dad. I get it all from you.”

  “I’ll leave you alone so you can get ready. Are you and Trent starting to get serious yet?”

  I shrug. “Not really. I mean, we’re still casually dating. Nothing set in stone or anything.”

  “I noticed you hanging out with Zack,” he waves his finger at me. “Remember, you’re not a baseball player. Don’t try to play the field.”

  “Dad! No, I am not having this discussion with you. Nope.”

  “I love you, honey. I don’t want to see you get hurt or caught up in something you can’t handle.”

  “Okay, dad. I appreciate your fatherly talk, but I’ve got to get dressed before Trent shows up.”

  “I love you,” he kisses my cheek. “Have fun, make some grandkids,” he teases.

  “What is it with you and grandkids?” I laugh. “I’m not ready to have any kids yet. I’m still trying to figure out what I want to do in life.”

  He walks down the hall muttering something as he goes out the front door, leaving me to get ready in peace.

  I’m not sure why he thought I’d want to talk to him about my love life. I know he means well, and he just cares, but I’m also not ready to go there with him.

  Scrambling to get ready, I notice that Trent will be here in a few minutes. Pulling my hair back, I wrap it in a sleek ponytail and secure any loose fly-aways to give my hair a neater appearance.

  “Joline? Are you here?”

  What the…? How did he get in here?

  “In my room,” I call out to him, searching for my boots. “How’d you get in here?” I ask as he appears in my doorway.

  “I knocked about a dozen times and called your name, but you didn’t answer.”

  “Why didn’t you try the doorbell?” I ask.

  “I did, but it must be broken.” His eyes scan my body. “You look beautiful.”

  He reaches for my hand and kisses it.

  “Let me slip on my boots and I’ll be ready,” I say.

  On our way to the restaurant, he tells me about his day, and I ask about his new clients. He seems like he’s in such a good mood and I’m glad.

  Since we haven’t spent a lot of time together recently, I realize how much has been going on lately. He’s not stopped talking since we got in the car but I don’t mind. I like it quite a bit.

  Going on about his latest business adventure, I get a text from Zack asking what I’m doing. I lower my phone under the table to respond and tell him that I’m not doing much.

  He replies that he’s bored and wants to know if I want to do something.

  Wonder where good ole’ “Jenny” is?

  I text back, asking if he wants to meet up for drinks in about an hour, hoping that I can get Trent to agree to go to the bar. He doesn’t have to know that his brother will be there, not until we’re already there anyway. Maybe this is the chance I’ve been waiting for.

  “Look at that,” he says after our food arrives. “I’ve been going on the whole night. What have you been up to? I haven’t heard from you much lately. Tell me what’s going on in the world of Joline.”

  Gee, where do I start?

  There’s no way that I can tell him about the card counting, but I a small, tiny part of me wants to let him know that I’ve been talking to his brother. If I can remove even an ounce of strain on their relationship, it would be worth it.

  “Looking for jobs,” I shrug.

  “How’s that going?”

  “Not great. The job market is competitive, especially right now.”

  I slowly sip my wine, buying some time to bring up going out after dinner. I don’t want to sound too eager, or he’ll suspect something.

  “I wish you’d let me help your situation. I have more than enough money to pay your bills.”

  His sentiment is sweet, and some girls might like it, but that’s not what I’m about. I’ve never been into letting a man support me. Ever. And I’m not about to now.

  “Trent,” I start. “I have never in my life let a man pay my way, and it insults me when you say that. I wish you’d knock it off. Do you think I’m incapable of finding work or supporting myself?”

  “I don’t think that at all,” he presses his mouth into a taut line. “All I’m saying is that I can take care of things for you. Why do you always get so defensive?”

  I open my mouth to speak but quickly close it before I say the wrong thing.

  No, forget it. I’m not holding
back.

  “Do you want to know why I get so defensive? Because I don’t want a free ride from a man. I will never be indebted to anyone. Ever. I have and always will earn my own money and be independent.”

  I notice that I’m raising my voice even though I don’t mean to so I lean toward the center of the table and lower my voice.

  “You make me feel like an invalid, like someone who can’t take care of herself. I don’t know if it’s because I’m a woman or if it’s because you think you’re so much superior to me, but I’ve had enough of your offers. I want you to respect my decisions.”

  For the remainder of our dinner, what was supposed to be a night out, we eat in silence. I’m still steaming over his incessant need to take care of me. I’m not a child and am very capable of taking care of myself.

  “I guess I’ll take you back home,” he says as we pull out of the parking lot.

  “No, drop me off at Mississippi Nights.”

  “Mississippi Nights? You want me to take you to the landing?”

  “Yeah,” I look at him and see the reflection of headlights scroll across his face as they pass us. “I told a friend that I might come out for drinks later, and I don’t feel like going home right now.”

  “Whatever,” he says.

  I’m so angry with him right now that I don’t have the energy to try to bring him and his brother closer tonight. If it hadn’t been for the whole bit about offending me, it wouldn’t have been a problem.

  But tonight isn’t the night.

  Right now, I just want to vent and blow off some steam while I unwind because he’s got me wound pretty tight after our heated dinner discussion.

  His jaw is tight, flexed. He presses down on the accelerator, launching us farther down the highway until we finally come to my exit.

  “Have a good time,” he says, refusing to look at me as I unfasten my seatbelt and get out of the car.

  “Don’t worry. I will.”

  Slamming the car door shut, I make my way inside of the busy club and send Zack a text to let him know that I’m here.

  Less than a minute later, I see him emerge from the perimeter of the dance floor.

  “Glad you could make it,” he leans in, kissing my cheek.

  My skin tingles where his lips were pressed against my face and causes me to blush for a brief moment.

 

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