by Anthology
She’d feel like hell tomorrow.
I kicked back on the couch and waited for the pizzas I ordered to be delivered.
Ten minutes later as I was taking a bite, Fiona raced through the apartment.
“I gotta go check on Milo, I forgot all about him.” She was dazed and confused.
“Hey, I’m sure he’s fine. April works long shifts,” I coaxed, wrapping my arms around her shoulders, steering her back to bed. “You can’t drive drunk. I’m an officer of the law, remember?”
“You know, you’re kind of cute when you’re being all bossy.”
“You should see me in my uniform,” I flirted, knowing doing so wouldn’t lead anywhere. We tried that once.
She buried her face in the crook of my neck, inhaling my aftershave. Her lips brushed against my ear, and I had to remind myself that this was Fifi and she was drunk.
“You smell good too,” she murmured.
“So I hear.”
“You gonna cuff me and read me my rights.” She tugged on my belt loop, reaching for the cuffs I forgot I had on me.
“Go to bed, Fi, you’re drunk.” This was why she didn’t drink. When Fiona got drunk, she got all touchy and well, horny.
“Only if you come with me,” she teased.
“Not tonight lightweight.”
Getting her back in the bed, I told her she needed to sleep it off.
Fiona looked at me with a lazy smile and bloodshot eyes. “Goodnight, Roomie.”
What did I just get myself into? I groaned, wiping the back of my neck as she pulled her dress over her head, getting it stuck.
“Easy killer,” I said, avoiding the swell of her breasts as they threatened to fall out of their lace cups.
Pulling her dress back down, I kissed her forehead as she began to snore again.
Fiona
What was that pounding? I blinked. My eyes didn’t want to focus and my throat felt as if I’d swallowed sand.
Thump.
Bang.
Thump.
There was that damn pounding again.
Wiping the crust from my eyes, I threw the covers back. Glancing around the room, I started to freak out until it dawned on me I was at Devlyn’s.
My legs were stiff as I left the warmth of his bed. I followed the noise to the kitchen. Dev wore a wife beater and navy boxers. He was cooking breakfast and talking to a cat.
“New friend,” I interrupted.
He smiled flipping the egg in the pan.
“Nah, me and Skittles go way back. She eats with me every morning. Lives upstairs. Belongs to Mecca. I think you’ve met her before.”
Some of the fog cleared from my head and I remembered her. “The marathon runner.” She was pretty and single. “She’s pretty.” I raised my brow at him and he frowned.
“Don’t start with me. Skittles is the only pussy I have time for right now.” He avoided my judgmental glare and slid a mug across the counter with two aspirin.
“I’m just sayin’,” I teased him.
“You can just say all you want to. I gotta go. You coming to the parade?”
“No, I need to return April’s car and take Milo out for her. You, however, might think about putting some pants on.” I smirked as he glanced down.
“Right. I have a debriefing after my detail.” He handed me a key out of the Minion cookie jar. “Here, don’t lose it.” He opened the window and Mecca’s pussy went sauntering up the fire escape.
“Eat up.” He nodded to the omelet he plated moments ago.
“Yes, sir.” I saluted him as he jogged past me to the bedroom to get dressed.
A minute later he breezed into the kitchen smelling too damn good as he always had, dressed in dark jeans and a grey Henley.
“I can’t help with a phone until tomorrow, but we’ll get you taken care of. I should be home by two then we can head over to Ma’s together.”
“Sounds good.”
With a feather light kiss to my temple, he was out the door, and I was left alone with my thoughts. Did he really offer for me to move in last night? Was he crazy? I loved the guy to death, but we’d kill each other. However, on the other hand, where else would I go? I knew I could crash with April, but if Randy popped the question…they’d be moving in together I was sure.
Finishing my breakfast, I headed off to April’s apartment to check on Milo.
When I arrived, the little nerd was scratching at the door dying to be taken out.
“Good morning Milo, Auntie Fifi will take you out as soon as she’s washed her face.”
I grabbed my bag from the floor where I left it last night. Dashing to the bathroom, I was eager to be out of that dress and forget my interview from last night.
I’d grab a shower after I took the dog out.
By the time I’d gotten the dog walked, taken a shower, and stopped by my shitty apartment to change, it was time to meet with Dev to go to his mom’s. Mrs. Sullens was a trip. The woman was the mother everyone wished they had growing up. She lived to take care of her family.
Devlyn leaned against his 1985 silver Chevy Impala, dressed the same as that morning, only adding a brown leather jacket to the mix. I giggled as I walked toward him. He appeared as though he’d stepped out of a 1980’s police movie, minus the thick porn star mustache that was popular back then.
With his hands tucked in his pockets, he grinned at me. I had to admit, he had an alluring smile. When he popped those dimples out, I didn’t understand how any woman could resist his charm. I didn’t understand how the guy was still single in a city as large as New York.
My heart ached a little, wishing I could see him as more than my friend.
“Your chariot awaits.” His hand left his pocket and ran through his dark hair.
My mind flashed to the night we tried to give things a shot, and I remembered how silky his russet hair felt under my fingers. My cheeks flamed in embarrassment. I didn’t know where the memory came from. I kept that night buried deep in the vault. Entertaining such thoughts would ruin everything we had.
Opening the door for me, Dev told me how gorgeous I was even though we both knew I appeared hungover, because I was. He was always such a gentleman. Again, husband material.
As he was getting in the driver’s side his cell phone rang. He dug his phone from his jacket pocket and frowned when he looked at the screen.
“It’s for you.” He tossed the ringing phone in my lap and started the engine.
Rubbing my finger across the bar, I answered. Chase.
“Should’ve known I’d find you with the narc,” he snarled on the other end.
“Well, you found me. What do you want?”
“I miss you.”
I sighed. “I’m not doing this today, Chase.”
“Why? Are you with someone? Don’t tell me you’re dating the narc.”
“That’s right, I’m with Devlyn now. We’re moving in together. I’m on my way to his parent’s place for the holiday. Don’t contact me again.” I ended the call and Devlyn was gripping the wheel hard as we moved through the holiday traffic.
I didn’t exactly lie. I was with Dev at the moment and I was moving in, albeit temporarily.
I handed Devlyn his phone and we rode to New Jersey in silence.
Devlyn
Fiona smiled weakly in my direction, trying to mask the pain that accompanied Chase. I would have loved to have thrown the shitbag in a cell and throw away the key. He’d treated her so badly, and she kept going back for more. I hoped Fiona meant it this time, that they were over.
Knowing it wasn’t my place to tell her what to do didn’t make it any easier to keep my mouth closed. However, that’s exactly what I did.
Turning up the radio to drown the silence, I continued to drive, stealing glances at my best friend, the woman I loved more than anything but could never have. Her hand found its way into mine. Her soft pale skin clinging to mine, needing reassurance. Squeezing her hand back, I told her, “You’re going to be okay F
iona, you’ve got me. Always.”
Her hand relaxed against my palm as I steered with my other hand. The other cars on the turnpike blurred into the distance. Right then and there it was only the two of us.
Breaking the silence, Fiona brought up the roommate pact. “So I was thinking we should have boundaries if I’m going to live with you.”
“What kind of boundaries?” I asked feeling mildly curious.
“I hate putting you on the couch. You work hard, and I know you hate your couch, its uncomfortable.”
“You offering to take the couch?”
“No.” she shook her head, her auburn curls tangled through her fingers as she brushed her hair back from her face.
“You gonna cuddle up next to me,” I teased with a wink.
“I don’t know, maybe you can have your side of the bed, and I could take the other. We could separate the sides with duct tape.”
“Duct tape?” I hedged.
“Duct tape,” she encouraged.
Reality Calls
By Jenni Moen
"What’s with the shit-eating grin?” Sean asked, after plopping his ass down on the desk next to mine. “Gotta hot date with the naked girl you put in the tank?”
He was referring to my last stop of the day. The chick in the tank had been driving on two busted tires, creating a light show that was more appropriate for the Fourth of July than the day before Thanksgiving. It wasn’t until I’d walked up to her window, though, that I realized the fireworks display wasn’t the only free show she was offering. She’d been completely naked and totally blitzed out of her mind.
“Hell, yeah,” I said without looking up from the report I was working on. “As soon as she can walk a straight line, she’s not going to know what hit her.”
The bravado—it was all for show. There was only one girl I wanted to see, naked or otherwise, and based on the sideways glance I got from my best friend Jake, it was about time to give up the act.
“I heard she’s a ten. How come you get all of the hot ones and all I get is homeless Irma under the bridge?” Sean lamented.
“You may have to fight for her if you want her, Sean,” Jake said, his mouth full of deviled egg. “They arrested her boyfriend downstairs for assault. He showed up with a wrench to bust her out.”
“What a tool,” I said with a smirk.
“Terrible,” Sean said, shaking his head. “You’re off your game.”
I signed my name at the bottom with a dramatic I’m-outta-here flourish and pushed the report away from me. As soon as I handed it in and clocked out, I was off duty for three days. I hadn’t been this jazzed up about having three days off since … well … the last time I’d had three days off and had gone to seen Sierra.
For the past six months, I’d been making the trip from Brooklyn to Chicago every few weeks. She was the reason my wallet was drained from bus and airline tickets and my truck now had way too many miles on it. I’d be the first to admit the twelve-hour drive was wearing on me, but the long distance was a good thing for us. It kept us both always wanting more, which made for some rewarding reunions.
Sean stood up and pointed at Jake’s plate. “I’m going to grab some of that food and then head over to the Cask & Barrel for a beer. Anyone in?”
I shook my head. “I’ve got to head home and clean the place up.”
A slow grin spread across Jake’s face. “It’s official. Luke Russell is off the market. He’s cleaning up his apartment to impress a woman.”
I shrugged him off. “It’s just too soon to let her see how I really live.”
“Yeah, let’s hope she doesn’t find out the truth.” Sean was referring to more than my dirty apartment, and it earned him a glare.
My shady past was the reason I wouldn’t be taking her around any of my friends this weekend or introducing her to the New York bar scene. If she figured out what a dog I’d been before I’d met her, I had no doubt she’d be on the first flight out of here.
After thirty-five years of being single, every woman in Brooklyn had given up hope of me ever settling down. Even my mother, who always seemed to have a new nice Italian girl for me to meet, had stopped trying. Now that I’d broadened my pool, I’d discovered nice Italian girls from Brooklyn weren’t my flavor of choice, but I’d take a sexy Chicagoan with hazel eyes and a killer smile any day of the week.
After hauling out three bags of trash, I stood back to see if I’d missed anything that might smell. If she opened the closet door, an avalanche of dirty socks and sports equipment would rain down upon her, but the bathroom was clean, the kitchen sink was empty, and the sheets on the bed were brand new.
I lifted the sofa and with my foot nudged the phone book over until it was out of sight. The phone book—stolen contraband from my parents’ house—was shimmying up the leg of the sofa Sean had busted while watching the Olympics the previous summer. His attempt at indoor pole-vaulting had resulted in a broken broom handle and a lopsided couch.
My phone vibrated on the coffee table, and my shoulders slumped in disappointment. The sound I wanted to hear was the buzzer for the door downstairs. A ringing phone meant she wasn’t standing outside waiting to jump into my arms.
I swiped the phone up and answered it. “Doll, where are ya? Did you get lost?”
“I’m downstairs. Can you come help me with my—” she cleared her throat before finishing, “—bags.”
She sounded funny, and I hoped she wasn’t getting sick, though there would be worse things than being trapped in my apartment all weekend with her. Maybe we could use it as an excuse to get out of going over to my parents’ for Thanksgiving the next day. I was already dreading the fuss my ma and sister were going to make over her. I’d never brought a woman home for dinner, let alone a holiday dinner, and they were going to eat Sierra alive.
“Be right down.” I took the steps two at a time and flung the door open to find her standing on the sidewalk, huddled inside her wool coat.
“Hey, baby,” she said, biting her lip.
I wrapped my arms around her, pulling her against me, and buried my face in her dark hair. “Are you sick, doll? You sounded funny on the phone.”
She put a hand on my chest and pushed away slightly so she could look up at me. A big smile spread across her face. “Perfect now.” And by God, she was. Her cheeks and the tip of her nose were already turning pink from the frigid wind. Her eyes were bright with some emotion we hadn’t—and didn’t need to—put a name to yet.
Sierra and I operated our relationship under the keep it simple stupid theory. We’d never used the L word or even defined what we were to each other. Consequently, we’d never had a single fight. As far as I was concerned, our relationship was perfect. I was always happy to see her and always sad when our time was up.
“Kiss me, you fool,” she said, grinning.
All I really wanted to do was get her upstairs and into my bed.
Imagining the sweet smell of her perfume and the feel of her skin against mine had been getting me through, but now that she was here and she was mine, I was going to devour her. I cupped her cheeks in my hands and covered her cold lips with my warm ones. I was fire and she was ice, but somehow, I was the one melting. I didn’t care if all of the patrons of Scalini’s Pizza Parlor were watching us. My dinner had just arrived.
I slipped my tongue into her mouth and froze. She tasted like coffee and beef jerky, two things we agreed were absolute necessities for road trips.
Only she’d flown.
I pulled away, and my eyes drifted over her shoulder. A moving truck—the kind you rent and drive yourself—was parked by the curb. Sierra’s small black Audi sedan sat on a trailer hitched to the back. My eyes pinballed from the truck to her and back again several times before finally coming to a rest on her.
Her shoulders came up in a small half-shrug, and she winced ever so slightly. “Surprise?”
Surprise was right. I picked my jaw up off the pavement and managed a garbled, “Uhhhhh.”
“Say something, Luke. Please.” Her usually confident, smooth voice trembled.
I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t know how I felt other than sucker punched.
In a reeling state of confusion, I ushered her up the stairs. The only sound was our clomping feet against the wood. Inside, I went straight to the refrigerator, pulling out a beer for myself and the wine I’d chilled for her. I uncorked and uncapped the bottles and took a long pull on my beer, hoping I’d find my words at the bottom of it. When I finally came up for air, I was still tongue-tied, and Sierra was standing in front of the door, looking around my apartment. Mentally redecorating it, I imagined.
I crossed to the couch and set her glass of wine on the scruffy old steamer trunk that barely passed as my coffee table. I took another drink from my beer and waited.
Her mouth opened and closed again. Surely, she had some sort of plan for how this would go? Then again, maybe not. Sierra was impetuous. We both were. It was one of the things that made us work, but she’d just pushed my spontaneous nature to the limit.
“So, you’re probably wondering what the hell is going on?” she finally said in an unusually timid voice.
It didn’t suit her, and it made me want to wrap her up in my arms again. Unfortunately, there was a big metal box on wheels sitting outside that I suspected contained everything she owned. It might as well have been parked in the middle of my living room, smack dab between us, for the hurdle it posed.
She shrugged out of her coat and looked around as if she didn’t know where to put it. “Yeah … so … I went to work as usual on Monday. I had appointments lined up to show properties in both buildings. I also had painters coming for the new vacancy on the third floor. But when I walked into the office, the owner of the property was there. All of my stuff was in a box sitting by the door, and he told me I was fired.”
I was stunned. “Did he say why?”
Her chin quivered. “Fraternizing with the tenants.”
My eyes narrowed, and she held her hands up in response.