Train Wreck

by T Gephart

  “Sounds like I should have been out with you guys.” My jaw so tight it hurt. “My night wasn’t half as fun.”

  “Oh, you should come out with us next time.” Kitty grabbed my thigh, her hand lifting quickly when she realized what she was doing. “I would love that.”

  “Maybe next time.” Yeah, maybe not. Especially not if I was going to have to watch Eve make out with random dudes. What was she even thinking?

  I knew I was acting like a jerk—being angry for no good reason—and I needed to stop. After all, what was she supposed to do? She was young, single, beautiful, so of course men would be interested and vice versa. She wasn’t a freaking mind reader, and had no idea of my intentions. Didn’t have a clue I was waiting until she went back to her job at the gallery before I gave myself the green light to ask her out. Assuming she was interested. And I had been pretty clear that I wasn’t making a move.

  I was still simmering, trying to rationalize my own stupidity when Dallas finally emerged, a small butterfly bandage across his upper right eye and a look of bewilderment on his face. I’d assumed it was the newly acquired company that had him looking at me so strangely, but it could have easily been the lidocaine.

  “You ready to go?” My ass rose out of my seat. “We’re going to give Kitty a ride home.”

  “Say what?” His eyes narrowed. “You’re going to ride her kitty?”

  Ordinarily I would have smacked him across the head and reminded him to watch his mouth. I didn’t even care about the possible head injury. But my mind was still mulling over Eve playing tonsil hockey with Matt and how that ended. If Kitty had gone home with someone, it stood to reason Eve might have done the same. And I’m sure that cocksucker Matt would have just jumped at the chance. Dallas was right about him, he would have totally been a pussy in the chair. She could do so much better.

  “Nooooo.” Kitty giggled, her cheeks getting pink. “My name is Kitty, don’t you remember me, Dallas?”

  “Head trauma. Don’t take it personally,” I coughed out, my mind still elsewhere.

  “Ohhhhhhhh Kitty.” Dallas smiled, and I knew he still had no idea who she was. “Of course I remember you.” He sidled up to her, his eyes falling to her cleavage.

  She giggled, squeezing her tits together to give him a better view.

  Clueless.

  Both of them.

  “Well if everyone’s set, we should make tracks. I would like to see my bed before Monday.” My mood had gone from bad to worse.

  “Yep, good to go.” Dallas grinned, outstretching his arm. “Ladies first.” Gesturing to the door.

  And it wasn’t about manners either, it was so he could check her out from behind.

  “Oh, you are both so nice.” Kitty smiled as she twisted, hips swaying toward the exit.

  “Careful, D,” I whispered under my breath when Kitty was just out of earshot. “The last guy she was with ended up in the ER with something lodged up his ass. Just so you know, that happens to you, you’re on your own.”

  “It’s just been the week for hot crazy chicks it seems.” Grin spread across his face. “I say we go with it.”

  Yeah.

  Or maybe we don’t.

  Eve

  I HAD SPENT TWO DAYS IN A sea of paper, paint and charcoal.

  No, I hadn’t set fire to my apartment, but I had decided to get back to basics and sketching had been my first love.

  It hadn’t been pretty on Sunday. I was hungover and still feeling pretty nasty about kissing Matt, it seriously had been a new low for me. I had been so hung up on meeting some arbitrary timeline for a stupid fling, I’d forgotten why I was in this mess in the first place.

  No, it wasn’t because my boyfriend cheated on me. And it wasn’t because I had a strong attraction to Josh. Those were byproducts of the disarray in my life. And while yes, I wanted Josh to kiss me and possibly do every other dirty thought I could imagine, it wouldn’t change things for me. And as much as my hormones were screaming for the release, all of that would have to wait. Besides, I’d done almost everything but throw myself at him and he still hadn’t cracked. There was the very real possibility he wasn’t interested.

  I didn’t need a man; I needed an overhaul.

  But if nothing else, it was one of the many wake-up calls I’d received over the past week. All turning me back to the direction I needed to be. Finding my passion.

  Like a mad scientist, my hand moved over the pages, fluctuating between simple doodles to full-blown shaded portraits. I forgot to eat, to sleep, to shower. And the more covered in black smudges my face and body became, the more energized I felt. The light bulb had finally been turned on.

  Tuesday couldn’t come soon enough, I was itching to get back to the studio and soak up some more inspiration. And sure, possibly some of the excitement was seeing Josh and to share it with him. And maybe partly because his face had been one of my favorite things to sketch. My interest was purely platonic and artistic. At least that was the lie I told myself and even if he wasn’t interested in me, we could still be friends.

  It had been weird getting to the shop a little after nine with coffees in my hand and finding the door still locked and the lights off. Josh was always there early. No matter what time I arrived, he always looked like he’d already been there for hours. So much so that I assumed sometimes he must have spent the night on that fancy chair like he joked he had in the past. So as it got closer to ten, I was contemplating calling the police, concerned that he was still a no show.

  He must have slept in, I rationalized. Or had car trouble. Or a family emergency. Any one of those, reasons for him to be late. Surely nothing bad had happened, I was just acting paranoid.

  “Hey!” I jumped to my feet the minute I saw him walking toward the door. I was so grateful he was okay, I forgot myself and threw my arms around him. “Hey,” I repeated lamely, not able to say all the things that were really going on in my mind. Most importantly it wasn’t about the artwork I had initially wanted to show him.

  “Hey.” He gave me a tight smile, his arms hanging loosely by his side while mine were around him. The hug was entirely one-sided.

  Quickly, I dropped my arms, slightly embarrassed about my initial reaction. And in an effort to keep my hands from getting into more trouble, I picked up the tray of coffees that were now probably cold sitting by my feet. My smile no doubt fake, as I watched him twisting his key in the lock to open the door.

  “Hope you haven’t been waiting long, I slept in and I wasn’t sure you were going to be back.” He didn’t wait for my response, pushing open the door and tipping his head in the direction for me to go through first.

  “Why wouldn’t I have come back?” I half laughed, not sure if he was kidding as I entered the shop. And why was he acting so weird? “I still haven’t fixed the supply closest yet, so at the very least I have to do that.”

  It had been our running joke, the menial job always getting pushed back for something I deemed more important. And usually it made him laugh, today it seemed he’d lost more than just his sense of humor.

  “Hmm.” He made a non-committal grunt, tossing the keys behind the counter and opened his appointment log. Me and the coffee I was holding, ignored.

  “Is everything okay?” I asked, feeling a strange vibe in the room as I lowered the coffees onto the counter. “You seem a little off.”

  The lack of smile—not counting the halfhearted effort at the door—was my first red flag. His beautiful warm smile had been the first thing I’d noticed about him when we first met. Plus he would barely look at me, flicking on lights and keeping busy—anything other than make eye contact. The air was definitely frosty for July, and it had nothing to do with the outside temperature.

  “Nope, just a busy weekend. Tired.” He didn’t look up, clicking on the computer.

  Something was off and I didn’t know if it was me, or the situation, or something else. Things had been fine when I left him on Saturday afternoon. Well as fine as it could be i
f you didn’t count the crazy sexual tension.

  We had tried something new for lunch, laughed a lot, and had a productive afternoon. Nothing that could lead me to believe his current mood had anything to do with me. Maybe he was just tired, he had been putting in a lot of hours lately.

  “Well I can relate.” I tried to be cheerful, convincing myself that I was imagining things. “I hardly got any sleep this weekend either.” I couldn’t wait to show him all my work. “Not that I’m complaining, I haven’t had that much fun in a long time.”

  “Good, happy for you.” Another fake smile, and this time I knew it was bullshit, his eyes narrowing in distaste. “If you want to get started on the supply closet, I’m going to head back to my room and get set up. Let me know when my eleven o’clock arrives.” He was so cold and completely disengaged as he turned to walk away.

  “Josh, have I done something wrong?” I refused to let it go, unable to handle the way he was looking at me any longer. He stopped, keeping his back to me as I added, “You seem mad at me, which seems ridiculous because I haven’t seen you in two days.”

  I strained my memory, trying to remember anything that could explain why he was acting so weird. If I’d done or said anything offensive before I’d left on Saturday night. Or if I’d accidentally forgotten to do something, put stock away or return a phone call—anything that may have upset him.

  But nope.

  I came up with nothing.

  “If there’s something bothering you, I’d really just wish you’d say.” My hand moved to his arm, pulling him, slightly hoping he would turn around. “I thought we were friends.”

  “Look.” He whipped around, the action making my hand drop from him immediately. “I wasn’t going to say anything, but since you’ve brought it up, I figured maybe I should.”

  He didn’t yell, but there was no warmth to his voice, like he was trying to hold himself back from saying something.

  “Okay, what is it?” I wondered what I could have possibly done to warrant his reaction, and deep down hating the way he was looking at me.

  “You paying my client Matt in the foyer, that was one thing.” He shoved his hands in his pockets, his eyes staying on me. “I don’t care how you spend your cash or what floats your boat. But I told you straight up that I didn’t appreciate it from a business standpoint, but obviously he took the money so there’s not much point being pissed about it.”

  “O-kay . . .” He was bringing up Matt? The guy I had coincidentally just seen on Saturday night and had picked now to be mad about it? The timing seemed too strange not to be intentional.

  “But what I am not cool with, is you dating customers. It’s nothing personal. I have the same set of rules for Dallas. And I probably should have mentioned it upfront, but I honestly didn’t think it would be an issue. Anyway, if you can make sure you don’t cross that line while you’re still working here, that would be great. Thanks.”

  What?

  What!

  Did he have me under surveillance? How could he even know I’d hooked up with Matt? I mean, the club had been dark, so who knows who was there to see. Surely I wasn’t that drunk and I would have noticed if he’d been in the shadows watching my sorry attempt at casual sex. It’s not like my body didn’t go off like a fire alarm whenever he was in a two-mile radius; he wasn’t easy to ignore. And if he had seen me, why wouldn’t he have said something there? At the club. Instead of bringing it up now.

  “I’m not dating Matt.” I laughed at the absurdity of it all. I could barely stomach kissing him without conjuring up some hot stand-in—which ironically had been him—so the idea of dating him obviously ridiculous.

  “Whatever, Eve.” My reaction seemed to annoy him further. “Your personal life isn’t my business.” His shoulders squared off as he breathed out. “I’m just saying, if someone walks through those front doors, they aren’t someone you should consider for extra curricular activities. Not until after they are done here.”

  Was he serious? Surely this was some kind of stupid joke.

  “I already told you, I’m not dating Matt.” I tried again to explain, hoping to reassure him that whatever he thought he knew, he was wrong. “I saw him on Saturday, briefly, but that’s it. It was a pure coincidence, in fact he approached me and I wasn’t even nice to him.”

  Besides the obvious—me not addressing how he knew—his inference was starting to bug me a little. Sure, it would have been poor judgment to sleep with someone I could potentially see at the shop, but it wasn’t a stoneable offense. I was temporary, and chances are Matt and I would never even see each other in a professional sense. I doubted he would even be back. He seemed way too upset about something so minor.

  “I’m sure if I ask him, he’d say different,” he baited, not so subtly hinting he knew more than he was letting on.

  “Did he say something to you? How do you even know I saw him?” I asked, wondering if Matt had decided that because I’d left him with a case of blue balls he would be vindictive and tell my boss some bullshit as payback.

  It seemed unlikely, but nothing about this whole situation seemed to make sense, so I couldn’t rule anything out. Besides, this had stopped being comical and ridiculous and was now starting to feel a little offensive.

  “It doesn’t matter what was said or how I know.” He met my eyes for the first time, their lack of warmth startling. “If you want to work here, you follow the rules.” He looked away, avoiding me again. “There aren’t many, so it shouldn’t be hard. If you want to argue then you know where the door is. I’ve got to get set up.” He turned, his heavy boots echoing off the floor as he walked to his room.

  What just happened?

  Well, now I was pissed.

  There was a difference between telling me he didn’t condone employee/customer relations—something well within his rights—and making me feel cheap and insignificant. Which is exactly what he did when he spoke to me like that.

  If you want to argue then you know where the door is?

  Yeah, I did and I’d slam it on his rude judgmental ass when I told him to go to hell. No one spoke to me like that.

  “Are you kidding me right now?” I yelled at him, not giving a shit about his need to set up or his general bad mood. “You think it’s okay to speak to me like that and then dismiss me?” I ran after him, storming into his room like a lunatic. “Am I supposed to kowtow for you too? Get on my knees and kiss your fucking feet?” I waved my hands in the air wildly in case he hadn’t gotten my point. “You, Josh Logan, are an asshole.”

  It clearly struck a nerve. Probably more than it should have, but I had been at my limit for people making snap judgments about me and believing they had me all figured out. I was done being dismissed, written off based on bullshit and inaccurate perceptions.

  He took a step back, his eyes popping open like he wasn’t sure he’d heard me correctly. “What did you say?”

  “I said,” I didn’t bother lowering my voice, no longer possessing the capacity to control my volume or my temper. “You,” I shoved my finger right into that firm, muscular chest of his, “are an asshole.”

  I sneered it.

  Like a villain in a Disney movie. Because let’s face it, considering the size difference, the idea of me trying to be intimidating was laughable.

  But I didn’t care. No, logic had no place here. And I was so fired up on adrenaline and agitation that I was liable to scratch his eyes out like a raccoon.

  “Did you sleep with him?” he asked, his dark pupils almost filling the perfect cerulean blue iris. Ugh, those freaking eyes. “Saturday night, I know that you kissed him.” He moved closer, his body coiled tight like a spring. “How far did it get?”

  “Not that it’s any of your business.” My hands pushed against his chest. Mmm. Those pecs were waaaay nicer than I’d imagined, my brain reminding my hands I was too angry to enjoy them. “But no, I didn’t sleep with him. I couldn’t even kiss him until I imagined it was you, and I almost threw u
p in his lap.”

  I tossed caution to the wind as I spewed out the truth. He wanted to know what happened, if I’d had sex with Matt? Fine, then he could hear the whole truth no matter how uncomfortable it made him. Who cared anyway? I doubted after our “little” outburst I’d still be working here tomorrow.

  “You imagined he was me?” His voice low, a rumble.

  “Yes, because in case you’re too freaking blind to notice.” I didn’t bother sugar coating it, keeping my eyes locked on his. I was no longer embarrassed or concerned about what he thought. “I wanted it to be you, to kiss you.”

  His feet were lightning quick, closing the few feet that separated us until he was on me. On me. His mouth, his hands, his body—pressed against me while my brain tried to catch up.

  Kissing me.

  Touching me.

  His lips pried mine apart as his tongue sought refuge in my mouth and there wasn’t a chance I wanted it to stop.

  “Josh.” My hands gripped the back of his T-shirt, clawing at him to get closer. I needed more—more contact, more lips, more him—the reality so much better than what I’d imagined. His mouth, hungry for mine.

  “Fuck,” he hissed, his hands grabbing my ass as he lifted me off my feet. The hard ridge of his cock hit me between my legs as he pinned me against him.

  “Yes, God, yes,” I moaned, rubbing my body to seek more friction.

  I tried to think, to work out what was happening and what it all meant, but my thoughts stalled as my body took over. Thinking was for losers, and right now I was having the kiss of my freaking life.

  “I’ve wanted to do that for so long,” he moaned against my mouth, his slipping down to my neck as he sucked on my skin. “Wanted to see what you tasted like.”

  “Then why didn’t you?” My fingers dug into his back, grazing him as they traveled down toward his ass.

  Was screwing him so soon out of the question? It wasn’t like I’d just met him; it was totally fine.

  “Work for me. Didn’t. Take advantage. Trying. Right thing.” His words not making sentences as he tried to talk but gave up in favor of using his mouth for other purposes.