I felt her red talons dig deeper into my bicep and I knew, without a doubt, I would have five crescent shaped bruises. “Pretty please. It will be my treat.”
Her overly plumped pink lips jutted out in the most pathetic expression a grown ass woman could wear. I had hoped her interest in me diminished over time but, apparently, I was wrong. Her clingy spider monkey fingers told me that I might have had my work cut out for me, if I was going to shake Miss Stephanie Peters. I pried her fingers off my arm, praying I didn’t tear a hole in my shirt.
“Thanks for the offer. Really. But it’s not a good time.”
I slipped into my office and closed the door before she could get another word out. At lunch, I slipped out while she was on the phone, checked on Ruins and made myself a couple of sandwiches out of whatever I found in Lotus’ fridge. I made a mental note to buy some groceries for her because her cabinets were sparse and a man can’t live on canned green beans and mustard alone.
Back at work, the reception desk was empty and I sent a little thank you to the man upstairs for small favors. I spent my whole day alternating between reading over cases my boss assigned to me, and playing basketball with my trash can. The moment Mr. Peters came by and released me, I practically ran to the parking lot. I decided to stop by my place to check on the renovations and switch my truck out for my bike. I didn’t need the truck to carry Ruins or his stuff any longer, and my bike made me feel free. I liked to be free.
By the time I made it back to Lotus’ place, it was after seven and not a single light was on. Jesus, someone needed to teach this girl some safety tips. Any Dick, Joe, or Harry could sneak up on her and have their way and no one would see a damn thing. It was apparent that I needed to also have words with Bentley, because as her brother, he was failing in his responsibilities miserably.
By the time I stumbled into the door of her apartment, sans light to guide me, I was annoyed. The least she could have done was warn me she wouldn’t be home, right? Who the fuck goes out midweek anyway, this wasn’t fucking college anymore. People needed to sleep. Like me. Did she fucking consider me sleeping on her fucking couch when she made her gosh damn plans to live life to the fullest?
While she was out on her YOLO-escapade, I found a can of stew in the depth of a cabinet and heated it up. It was crap, the worst canned stew I’ve ever tasted. I ate the whole damn thing. I hoped she was saving that can for emergencies; in case of a zombie attack or an apocalypse hitting, and I had just ruined her last meal.
After eating, I took Ruins for a walk, showered, made my bed on the couch and unpacked my clothes into her closet. It was a bit presumptuous of me that she would allow me to use some of her closet space, but I wore suits for work and it’s not like I could just fold them into balls. Plus, I figured she made the choice of not being home, so she could deal with the consequences. It’s not like I planned on going through her panty drawer or anything. Although, now that I thought about it. . . I heard keys jingling.
“It’s about fucking time.” I grumbled to Ruins, who let out a huff of air.
I made my way down her short hall and stopped in front of her door, putting my ears close; listening. I could hear the low, slightly squeaky, timbre of a male voice and the song of Lotus’ reply. The man kept talking and I swore the jingle of her keys became more frantic. I peered through the door peek and watched as the sleezeball moved in for the kill. Lotus looked like a deer in motherfucking headlights, just waiting for the impact of a car. I watched and waited, making her sweat a little. It was the least I could do, since she couldn’t even leave me a courtesy note. The guy was obviously a total loser and I could tell Lotus had as much interest in him as any normal human would in a root canal.
Mr. Sleeze braced his arms on the door frame, trapping Lotus from escaping. Her keys were jingling so frantically, it was like literal music in the otherwise silent night. I couldn’t help it, I smiled at the whole situation, trying to fight a laugh. It was hilarious; until it wasn’t. Before I knew it, the douche was inches away from locking lips with her, and for some reason that made my blood boil. It was probably because a kiss from him was something she obviously didn’t want, and I couldn’t sit back and let it happen. Instead, I yanked open the door and intercepted the kiss.
Lotus fell into me and I caught her like the white knight I am. “There you are! I was wondering when you were coming home, baby. Ruins missed his mama.” I snapped my fingers in a special sequence, causing Ruins to growl, just how I had trained him. Good boy; Daddy was definitely giving him a whole lot of treats for causing that prick’s eyes to widen in fear. I played the nice card, held out my hand to shake his and asked, “Is this the friend you mentioned going out with tonight? Beckett Cole.”
He shook my hand and introduced himself as Eugene Herbertson III. You’re kidding me, right? His parents must have truly hated him from the start to give him that name. I was chuckling to myself when he had the nerve to ask if I was Lotus’ brother. I swear, the question made me gag a little. Fucking Herbie, he just walked into a whole new playing field. Game. On.
I plastered on a fake smile. Internally I was already doing a victory dance. “Of course not! Her brother isn’t nearly as cool as I am. No, no, I’m her brother’s best friend. Lotus and I, well…” I paused, playing coy, giving the whole situation that extra dramatic something. I put my arm around Lotus, just to show territory and somehow my nose found the crook of her neck. That wasn’t my intention but hell if I was going to move it now. I rubbed my cheek gently against the column of her neck and spoke again, “we just sleep together.”
The cocksucker had the nerve to act surprised at my declaration, like he wasn’t a three who just had a date with a solid nine and a half. “You’re seeing someone, Lotus? I thought this was a date.”
She was saving herself though, smart girl. She jumped right in and added to my lies like they were their own truths. She feigned shock while saying, “Oh? I’m sorry, I thought this was just a friends thing. Like, you needed a wing woman for the night. I mean, you never asked me out on a date, just to go to the party with you. I’m so sorry for the misunderstanding.”
I watched as she gave Herbie the world’s most awkward hug and sent him on his way. The moment the door shut I smugly announced, “Saveeeed you.”
My clever girl pointed to my bed that I had made up earlier and said, “Saveeeed you.”
Fuck me, she had me there. “Touché, Blue Eyes, touché.”
I walked over to my makeshift bed and plopped down, Ruins at my feet. I watched as she took off her dangerously high heels, instantly shrinking a good four inches. “You know, if you wore a dress a little less revealing, maybe he wouldn’t have tried mauling you at your front door. And another thing, why the fuck don’t you turn on lights before you leave? That fucker could have raped you on your damn porch and no one would have known.”
“Excuse me?” She stopped what she was doing and gave me a look as if I was the one out of line. I obviously wasn’t. I wasn’t the one coming home with a dress that hardly covered my ass. It was a nice dress and a nice ass… just as a side note, but completely unacceptable for other men to see her in. I mean, take right then, for instance. When she bent over to remove her shoes, I got a perfect view right down her cleavage. I looked. Of course I fucking looked, I’m a damn man. Any man would look, which is exactly my fucking point.
“I am pretty sure I didn’t stutter, sweetheart. And another thing, would it have killed you to let me know you weren’t going to be home? Call? Text? Something? Shit. I came home and you were nowhere in sight. Pissed me the fuck off.”
Her beautiful blues flashed a crazy shade and her skin started turning this sweet shade of red. He voice was deadly calm, which sort of scared me. “I’m sorry. You must have me confused with a girl who values your opinions. That girl is not me. However, if I were such a girl I would tell you to take your opinions and self-righteous views and kindly shove them so far up your ass you choke because I don’t give a fuck about what
you think of me.”
She turned slowly on the heels of her feet and walked away, so very calmly it was almost robotic. I couldn’t quite figure out what exactly I had done to tick her off so much, but I was pretty sure it was something, because if there was one thing I learned from my ex fiancé, it was silence is lethal. I looked to Ruins for help but he was too busy being passed out to care about my man problems. “Blue Eyes? Come back…”
“Go to hell, Beckett Fucking Cole!” I flinched like I had received a backhanded slap across my face. Her bedroom door slammed, shaking the entire building. A calm, eerie silence filled her apartment and all I could think was… Shit.
Chapter 5
LOTUS
I fell asleep contemplating every domestic violence statistic I could think of because surely, since he was sleeping on my couch, murdering him would count as domestic, right? Out of all the arrogant things the asshole could have said, he decided to blame me for how my date ended? Solely based on my clothing choice? Unbelievable! Did he think this was 1965? Prick.
When I woke in the morning, I was slightly less irritated. I mean, I still thought Beckett was a prick, but then again, I thought that about pretty much all the male population. The apartment was quiet when I finally forced myself to leave the comfort of my bed. I wasn’t opening the shop today so I didn’t have to go in quite as early, which I was thankful for since I needed to recoup a little prior to rehashing my date with Myra.
I found the living room empty, with Beckett’s blankets neatly folded on the arm of the couch. If it wasn’t for the dog crate in the corner of the room and the blankets on the couch no one would have ever guessed Beckett was staying here. He was actually a neat house guest, and I couldn’t help but wonder where he had put all his clothes if he had no bags anywhere in sight.
I heard a stirring in the corner of the room and noticed his dog was locked into the crate, watching me. I knew Beckett had warned me to keep my distance, but seriously, his dog didn’t seem that bad. When I approached the cage, the dog growled a low sound deep within his throat. I growled back. I unlocked the cage and stood back waiting for the dog to come out. He didn’t. He just continued to watch me as if I’d lost my mind.
“Suit yourself then.” I told him and walked toward the kitchen, desperate for a nice, steamy cup of coffee to jumpstart my day. Passing through the threshold of my kitchen, I was shocked to see a paper cup of coffee along with a paper bag concealing a bagel on the counter. In Beckett’s scratchy writing, there was a note on a piece of legal lined paper next to my breakfast.
Blue Eyes,
I’m sorry about last night. I hope you enjoy your breakfast, it’s my peace offering. I found your phone dead in your purse. You really need to make sure to keep it charged. I took the liberty of charging it and added my number as speed dial 1. I figured you talk to Myra every day at work, you probably don’t call her enough for her to be your first speed dial. If you aren’t going to be home this evening, text me and let me know, otherwise dinner will be ready by seven.
Beck
Oh yeah, don’t open Ruins’ cage, he doesn’t like people.
I seriously didn’t know if I should be ticked off or grateful. On one side, he apologized, bought me breakfast, and charged my phone. On the other side, he went through my purse, messed with my speed dials, and demanded I check in with him. I took a calming breath and urged myself to let it go. Obviously, he was completely unaware that I knew of at least fifty ways to murder a human without making myself look suspicious. If he knew, maybe he would tread more carefully.
I ate my breakfast sitting on the couch, having a stare down with Ruins. He still refused to leave his cage and his stubbornness was only harming himself. I couldn’t have cared less if he left his space and stretched his four legs. Let him be cramped for the next few hours and stew on his regret of not getting out while he could.
After I finished eating, I locked Ruins’ cage back up and headed to my bedroom to get ready for my shower. I had to be at work by ten so I figured if I grabbed a quick shower and skipped the hair washing I would probably make it just in time. I grabbed the replacement bottle of body wash and some face wash I kept forgetting to put in the shower and headed for my closet. Opening the door to my closet, I stopped dead, dropping the bottles to my feet. There, in my closet, hung an array of suits, along with a few pairs of men’s jeans and shirts. He was fucking kidding me, right?
Hemlock.
Slip and fall.
Inoperable brakes.
Food Allergies.
Sky diving “accident”.
I arrived to work just in time, with Myra eagerly waiting for me. Of course she was eager; she set me up in the worst possible way. I couldn't believe I let her dictate my dating life, and what was even more unbelievable was how it all played out. I seriously thought dates that bad only happened in movies. At least if it was televised, I might get some royalties or something.
“Soooo, how did it go?” She badgered, literally the moment I sat my purse down on the counter.
I gave her a solemn look, a death glare really, and stated, “If real life was Facebook, I would have unfriended you by now. “
“You would not! You would send me a friend request five minutes later when you realized you needed help uploading a video or cooking a new recipe.”
I scrunched my nose a bit and sighed. “Truth.”
“So what happened? Was it really that bad?” She asked while biting on her nail, a habit which drove me insane, and I’m pretty sure she knew it.
So, I told her. Every un-freaking-believable detail of my date was spilled to her ears. Right up to the point where Beckett saved me. I made sure to leave him out of it, not wanting to rehash our argument or divulge his opinion of my attire. She was as outraged as I was and equally humiliated. I had just reached the attempted good night kiss when I heard a snort from the door way. Turning, I saw my mother, biting her bottom lip in an attempt to hold in her laughter.
“Tell me you didn’t hear any of that?” I begged her.
“Okay. I didn’t hear that.” My mom said as she made her way to her purse. She pulled out her worn black address book and her circa 2005 flip phone.
“Mom, who the hell are you calling? And for the love of God, please have someone put your numbers in your phone’s contacts. You don’t need to type them in all the time. This isn’t the Stone Age. You aren’t calling people on a rotary phone.”
She shot me a dirty look over her shoulder as she flipped through the pages of her book. “I’m calling your Aunt Maggie. Your date was too good not to share!”
“Mom!” I screamed in horror. “You can’t share that with just anyone. Actually, I prefer no one. It’s embarrassing.”
She snorted. “Your father insisted I named both you and your brother after cars, hasn’t your life been embarrassing enough? One more embarrassment wouldn’t hurt.”
I swear, sometimes I hated working with my family. In my next life, I’m using my business degree for something a little more exciting than inheriting my mother’s floral shop. “Please Mom. If you love me, you won’t make that call. The love of your child is on the line here.”
“It’s a good thing I have two kids then.” She stated as she looked me straight in the eye and pressed the call button. FML, why, oh why did stuff like that happen to me?
After spending my day being the root of jokes and ridicules, I was glad to be the one to do the solo closing. It gave me a few minutes of peace before I entered into an evening of shared spaces with Beckett. Plus, I honestly just needed some alone time after the awkward encounter of Eugene stopping by to thank me for a nice evening. They laughed for an hour straight and I swore my temples had throbbed ever since.
When I arrived home shortly after six, I was surprised to find Beckett was actually cooking. He didn’t hear me come in because he had his music pretty loud and although Ruins saw me, he didn’t spare me a second glance or put forth the effort to growl. I’ve looked at Beckett a few tim
es since he arrived, obviously. Watching him with alcohol goggles, a hangover, and on the tail end of the worst date in history hadn’t really done him any justice.
But there, barefoot in the kitchen, wearing a long sleeve henley and faded, well-worn jeans, he looked different. He was no longer the awkward-boy/almost-man he had been when he left. His muscles had filled in, straining against the arms of his shirt and the thighs of his jeans like the clothes were made specifically to be his. His sandy colored hair was dark; wet from a recent shower and he had a day’s worth of scruff scattered across his chin and cheeks.
My mind couldn’t help wander back to a time when we didn’t quite clash as much and all he had to do was ask and I would have given him anything he wanted. I never wanted anything in return from Beckett because the fact that he chose to treat his best friend’s kid sister as an equal was enough; that meant he saw me. I was a “someone” in his world.
“Hey there, Betty, what’s cooking?” I hung up my purse on the coat rack by the door.
He looked up, piercing me with his eyes. Hazel. Intense. Interrogating. “It’s a surprise. You’re early.”
“I wasn’t aware I had a time frame to come to my own apartment.” I don’t know why I felt so defensive around him. He had just stated a fact, not an accusation.
He flipped something in the pan over and looked back towards me. “Go wash up, or get comfy, or whatever it is you do when you get home. Dinner should be ready in about ten minutes.”
“Yes, sir!” he shot me a scowling glare over his shoulder as I headed for the bedroom to change. It was always a relief to take off my work clothes and slip into pajama pants at the end of the day. If Beckett wasn’t here I would have taken off my bra the moment my front door closed, but somehow with him in the kitchen, I figured it might be viewed as inappropriate behavior. Men; they ruined all good things.
Obscured Love Page 3