No Attachments

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No Attachments Page 21

by King, Tiffany


  She handed me two more pillows. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked.”

  “It’s okay.” I should just record myself saying that and ‘I’m fine’ so I could play them back whenever I needed to.

  “You sure?” I grabbed the last pillow and placed it in the middle of the rest.

  “Yup.”

  She gave me another look and went to brush her teeth. I lay back on my bed and tried to forget that only a few hours ago, I’d been fucking Stryker in it. Tried, but did not succeed.

  Stryker

  “How is Lottie going to keep this a secret from Will? They have that creepy twin thing,” I said as I worked on replacing the clutch Zan had burned out while learning how to drive a standard on Will’s truck. The weather was getting colder and soon it would be nearly impossible to work outside without the potential risk of losing a few fingers or my nose to frostbite.

  “I don’t know, honestly. I’m shocked she’s managed to keep us a secret this long.”

  I wiped my hands on a rag and slid out from under the truck. Zan sat on a folding chair and worked on his banjo picking. The rest of the driveway was filled with some of my other car projects. It was a decent way to make a few bucks and my landlord didn’t seem to mind that I took up three times the spaces as long as I kept his car tuned up and running like a champ. I also bartended here and there when I got really strapped for cash, but I’d been doing better at saving money. Being dirt poor also meant you got great financial aid.

  “So you two are serious?” I said.

  He looked up from the banjo.

  “I love her. I thought I did before, but it was just an infatuation. This is different.”

  I leaned against the truck and shaded my eyes from the afternoon sun. “How?”

  “I used to think she was this perfect person. That everything she did was right. Now I know that she’s got flaws, but I love those flaws. She’s not perfect and I love her the way she is. She makes me want to be a better person, and she doesn’t care about everything in my past. How could I not fall for that?”

  Jesus, it was so simple for him.

  I’d never told a girl I loved her. Probably because I’d never loved one. At least not in the way Zan was talking. His past was dark, yes, but it was a temporary darkness. He hadn’t been born to it, hadn’t been raised in it. His parents were generally decent, and his brother, however fucked up he was, loved him too. He’d had money and second chances and people who’d pulled him through the dark.

  I shoved my past aside and went to help him with some of his fingering.

  Katie had been ignoring me and I’d been letting her, out of respect. She probably never wanted to see me again, and I was fine with that. Not that I wouldn’t have picked up the phone if she’d called me. I would have. The sex was great and I would be more than happy to let it happen again, if she wanted it to. I just wasn’t into forcing girls like some guys.

  I was about to answer Zan when my phone rang from my back pocket. I looked at the screen and it was an unknown number. It could have been someone calling my phone with a wrong number, but I didn’t think so.

  “Hello?” My greeting was met with silence and I was about to hang up when she spoke.

  “Hey,” Katie said after a long pause. “You said if I needed anything to call. I need a distraction. Of the physical variety.”

  “Mhm,” I said, fully aware that Zan was sitting right in front of me and Katie would not want him knowing. “When?”

  “Right now. Can I come to your place?”

  “I’m fixing a friend’s truck right now, but maybe in an hour?”

  She sighed.

  “Okay, fine. But don’t tell anyone.”

  “You got it,” I said and hung up.

  “Who was that?” Zan said.

  “Just a friend who wanted to look at that extra guitar I’ve been trying to sell. He’s coming over in an hour.”

  “Can you finish in time? I have to get this back to Lottie so Will doesn’t kill me.”

  “Sure thing.” I got on my back and slid back under the truck, trying not to grin too much.

  ***

  Zan left ten minutes before Katie’s Mazda pulled into the lot next to my apartment. She’d never been here, but she clearly knew where it was anyway.

  She was visibly upset when I opened the door at the bottom of the stairs. I was on the second floor, but the first floor apartment was vacant, so I just treated the whole space as mine.

  “You okay?” I said, taking in her puffy red eyes and the fact that she hadn’t made much of an effort with her appearance again.

  She laughed without humor.

  “I wish everyone would stop asking me that. I’m so tired of saying ‘I’m fine.’ I didn’t come here for that.”

  Jesus, calm down. We signed up for a hookup, not a therapy session. “Okay. From now on I will not ask you if you’re okay. Deal?”

  She inhaled.

  “Deal.”

  “Any other requests?”

  She thought for a moment and stepped over the threshold until we were chest to chest.

  “Yes. Don’t call me babe.”

  “You got it,” I said before I picked her up and kissed her so hard our teeth collided. I nearly broke both our necks getting us up the stairs and through my front door, but somehow I managed it.

  At least this time I got my pants all the way off. She was no less frantic as she stripped me down and shoved me toward the couch. I had to toss the banjo on the floor, hoping it didn’t get damaged. She straddled me and this time at least, I was prepared with a condom. She tore the package with her teeth and rolled it on, like someone who had had a lot of practice, before sliding down on me.

  Neither of us spoke.

  I let her take the lead this time, picking up her quick and vicious rhythm. My hands dug into her ass as she found her pleasure and then I found mine. We both panted as she climbed off of me and started getting dressed. I went to take care of the condom and when I came back she had folded my clothes and left them on the couch for me.

  “So what are you escaping from this time?” I said as she pulled her shirt over her head.

  “Zack sent me a bunch of stuff and wrote me a note saying he wants to talk.” I put my boxers on. The tag was sticking out of the back of her shirt, so I put it back in for her, even though she flinched at the simple gesture.

  “Don’t do it,” I said.

  She turned her head to look at me, her eyes blazing and her cheeks still flushed from the sex.

  “Don’t tell me what to do,” she snapped.

  Christ, I needed to wave a white flag with this girl every time I opened my mouth. “I’m not. Just advising. It isn’t a good idea.”

  “Well thank you so much for your concern, guy I just fucked, but I’ve got plenty of concern and I don’t need it from you.” She pulled on her boots and smoothed her hair, re-doing her ponytail. “I don’t need anything from you except a physical distraction, and now that I’ve got it I’m going to go back to my room to watch movies with my friends and smile and be fine. Because I am.”

  I smiled at her. “Okay, sweetheart. You’re fine.”

  She glared at me and put her purse over her shoulder and pulled out her keys.

  “Don’t patronize me.”

  I shook my shirt out and pulled it over my head.

  “Sorry. My mistake.” Upon further inspection, the banjo seemed to be unscathed, so I set it on my lap and played a little tune.

  “Sooo, bye. I’ll call you.” She paused for just a moment with the door half-open.

  I grinned at her. “Me and my dick are looking forward to it.”

  She glared again and shook her head before slamming the door.

  About the author:

  Chelsea M. Cameron is a YA/NA New York Times/USA Today Best Selling author from Maine. Lover of things random and ridiculous, Jane Austen/Charlotte and Emily Bronte Fangirl, red velvet cake enthusiast, obsessive tea drinker, vegetarian, former cheer
leader and world's worst video gamer. When not writing, she enjoys watching infomercials, singing in the car and tweeting. She has a degree in journalism from the University of Maine, Orono that she promptly abandoned to write about the people in her own head. More often than not, these people turn out to be just as weird as she is.

  Other books by Chelsea M. Cameron:

  Nocturnal (The Noctalis Chronicles, Book One)

  Nightmare (The Noctalis Chronicles, Book Two)

  Neither (The Noctalis Chronicles, Book Three)

  Whisper (The Whisper Trilogy, Book One)

  Deeper We Fall (Fall and Rise, Book One)

  My Favorite Mistake

  Find Chelsea online:

  chelseamcameron.com

  Twitter: @chel_c_cam

  Facebook: Chelsea M. Cameron (Official Author Page)

  Faster We Burn (Fall and Rise, Book Two) is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are use fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, business establishments or locales is entirely coincidental.

  No part of this sample may be reproduced, scanned or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. All rights reserved.

  Copyright © 2013 Chelsea M. Cameron

  Cover by Sarah Hansen at Okay Creations

 

 

 


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