Unscrewed

by Ren Alexander

  “Why not?”

  Like he’s trying to figure me out, Amos watches me until I squirm. Fucker. Shifting, I search for somewhere else to be. “She wouldn’t say. Have you talked to her recently?”

  “No.”

  “She’s been somewhat withdrawn. That’s not even my observation. It’s her mother’s and her brother’s. Moving Simone into her new apartment, she only spoke about furniture positioning, apartment details, and little else. Nothing extra. Nothing personal. Even Finn tried to get her talking, saying she usually talks too much.” Amos laughs, glancing at me, but I turn to focus on the crowded food tables. “I asked her about helping you with Birdy.”

  “And?”

  “She said it was okay but kept changing the subject every time I brought up your name.”

  “She didn’t badmouth me?”

  “No. Did you do something to her?” It’s what I didn’t do to her.

  I shrug, hoping he doesn’t ask more. “It’s Simone. She’s probably mad at me because I don’t like pink.”

  He strokes his beard, and it’s disturbing as fuck. “I got the impression she was upset with herself, not you. But she wouldn’t talk about it.”

  Somewhat shocked Simone didn’t tell everyone what a douche I am or that Ricky blew her off, I don’t let on to Amos I know anything. “She’s dramatic. I wouldn’t worry.” Even if I’m starting to worry about her.

  “Maybe you should talk to her.”

  “What? Why?” I cross my arms, not wanting to hear more about Simone. But then, I do want to hear more about her.

  “I think she misses you.”

  I laugh but feel worse. “I promise she doesn’t.”

  Stroking the beard again, Amos contemplates. “Do you really have a pocketknife on you?”

  I smirk. “Makes you wonder, doesn’t it? Remember that for my next raise.” Again, looking around for Hadley, I ask, “Crick didn’t make it here?”

  “No. Like Gloria, I don’t think he wanted to wear a costume.”

  “He didn’t have to wear one. I mean, look at you.”

  The creepy gnome frowns at me as someone shouts, “Rod! Your hair!” A woman with a blue hooded cloak, gray hair, and a magic wand approaches Amos and me, grinning. “You look great!”

  “Thanks, Val. Are you dressed up as my aunt Amy?” That crazy broad temporarily lived under a bridge to save money on car insurance. Sadly, Aunt Amy defaulted on her payments, and her car was repossessed. Stupid as fuck, but in the end, she did save a lot on car insurance.

  Val laughs, giving me a look, clearly questioning my sanity. “I’m Cinderella’s Fairy Godmother!”

  “Oh, right. That was my next guess. Where’s Paul?” Val’s husband usually shows up to these stupid events willingly.

  “He’s not feeling well. Has a cold. How long did it take you to fix your hair like that?”

  “I plead the Fifth, Val.”

  “That long?” Val laughs as Betsy stops at our group, uninvited as always. In a tight sundress and cardigan, she’s a lassoed storm cloud. The frizzy wig she’s wearing does her no favors either.

  Betsy shrieks, “Good Lord, Rod! Who’re you supposed to be?” She skitters over to me, going for my hair, but I dodge her in time. With my ax in the shop, I have to settle for throwing a dirty look at her instead.

  “Your worst nightmare.”

  Betsy laughs at that, but if I did have a knife on me, she’d be the first and second to go.

  Val asks Betsy, “And who are you dressed as?”

  “Baby. You know, Dirty Dancing?” She swivels her hips, taking clumsy steps. Oh, what the fuck? She looks more like the watermelon Billy carried.

  Everyone politely smiles, nodding. Seriously? Amos’ gnome costume resembles Baby more than Betsy. Jesus Christ. Baby needs to be drywalled into a corner.

  A slutty vampire joins Val, handing her a bottle of water. I grin, checking her out. She has fake blood smeared over her arms and chest. Not sure how I feel about that. “Is that you, Ali?”

  She pats her long black wig as her eyes skate over me. “Maybe.” Her eyeliner is winged, and her lips are ruby red. Then there’s the skimpy black dress made of flimsy material. She’s not wearing a bra, and she’s either sporting a thong underneath or nothing at all. Hot damn.

  The sight of her goes black as hands cover my eyes from behind. I know who it is just from the scent of her wrists. Trying for casual, I say, “I wonder who it is.” I pull Hadley’s hands off my eyes and turn to see Cinderella.

  Her smile is brilliant, so I match it with one of my own. She says, “I didn’t think you would be here tonight.”

  “Here.”

  Hadley’s hands go to my hair, and I savor her touching me, wherever it is. “Wow. It’s stiff.” She has no idea, especially seeing her blue ballgown hugging her tits. Hot damn doesn’t come close.

  “Yeah. I’m stiff.” I laugh for the sake of not taking that comment to another level since she’s close to me and we have witnesses. Hadley laughs with me at my non-joke disguised as one. Her hair is in some kind of updo with a blue ribbon, and it shows off her neck, which I need to stop staring at.

  She slowly looks me over, dragging out my covert agony, which isn’t as covert as I thought, apparently. “What’s your costume?”

  Amos watches us so much that I should charge him at the door. He also answers for me. “Rod is a murderous sociopath.”

  I make a face at him, hearing Hadley giggle. “A psychopath, Amos. Jesus. Get it right.”

  Hadley shakes her head as her eyes roam over my body. God, I wish it were her hands. She asks, “Murderous?”

  “Why not? I’ve already made my list, and I checked it twice.” I side-eye Betsy, making Hadley laugh, which is my second favorite sound and always a goal. My number one favorite was her moaning as we got each other off. It fills my mind every time I jerk off to her.

  “I hope I’m not on that list!” Hadley giggles, and I try not to watch her chest bouncing.

  I cross my arms since I know Val and Amos are watching. “Never. I actually like you.” Fucking understatement. “Just please don’t tell me a damn prince was your date.” My eyes leave hers as I search the area behind her, checking for Prince Fucktard in case I screwed that up, and he’s here.

  “No. He was a cop.”

  “Okay...” I roll my eyes. Still an obnoxious costume.

  She nods to a group of people, and when I see Tesco in a suit, Hadley says, “Ricky’s a sports anchor.”

  “How fucking sweet,” I say, frowning as we watch him talking to Grant, a limp-dick pirate. “I bet they traded underwear and friendship bracelets.”

  “Rod!” Hadley laughs as Rhonda and Audrey appear from behind her.

  Dressed as some kind of doll—Brainy Barbie maybe—Audrey asks, “Does Finn get to keep the handcuffs? Bonus! Right?” Christ.

  Hadley giggles. “They weren’t real.” A cold chill runs up my spine, and I inhale, needing to calm down. As I do, I notice Ali’s gaze making another round trip over me. So, when her eyes meet mine, I grin. Chill gone.

  Next to Audrey is Little Red Riding Hood. For the most part, I’ve managed to avoid Rhonda for nearly two weeks, keeping busy in my office and running errands for Amos. I’ve only said hi and bye to her. She’d no doubt agree with Simone about me being a douchecanoe of a date. She smiles as her eyes go to my taller hair. “Hi, Greg.”

  “Hey, Ronnie. How’s it going?”

  “All right.”

  Hadley asks, “Aren’t you two going on a second date?”

  “Uh...” Damn it, Hadley. “I can’t right now.” I apologetically frown at Rhonda, knowing I still sound like a flakey motherfucker.

  “That’s okay,” Rhonda says, stepping back. “No rush.”

  “I’ve just been busy.” Avoiding you because I don’t know how not to hurt your feelings.

  Amos asks, “With what? Birdy?”

  I mumble, “Yeah.” I hate myself for using Birdy as an excuse when I’m the s
orry excuse.

  Thankfully interrupting, Tesco with his restrained hair and rare suit asks, “Simone isn’t here with you?” What the hell? Now he wants her?

  “No.”

  “She dump you?” He grins, putting his arm over Hadley’s shoulders, pulling her to him, being Wilder’s territorial proxy no doubt. And I again regret not bringing a knife with me. Wilder isn’t the only territorial one, even if she’s not officially mine. Underneath it all, when he left her for Baltimore last year, he lost part of her to me.

  Rhonda turns, quickly leaving as I answer, “I told you it’s not like that with Simone.”

  “Right. Just a casual thing. I get it, man.”

  “No, you don’t. Why do you want to know about Simone anyway?”

  He dims the grin somewhat. “I wanted to talk to her.”

  Hadley asks, “About what?”

  Ricky mutters, “Nothing.”

  Nevertheless, I warn, “Simone dives in headfirst without looking. Don’t be the shallow end.”

  “What’s that even mean?”

  “It means she deserves better. Always remember that.”

  Hadley looks between Ricky and me. “What are you two talking about? What’s wrong with Simone?”

  I back down, knowing I’m saying way too much. I mumble, “Just making conversation.”

  Tesco watches me, confused probably. He then turns, giving Hadley a hug, and I wish I knew how to snap a neck. “I got to go, Miss Hadley. Work calls and I have to be somewhere first.” Hopefully, at a bridge without a parachute.

  “Okay. Be careful tonight.”

  “Will do.”

  Before he leaves, I tell him, “I hope you don’t pull anyone over dressed like that. They might think you’re a pushy car salesman taking his shtick to the streets.”

  His smug grin returns. “Hilarious. Keep that in mind when I pull you over. A gray Chevy Silverado, dent in the front driver’s side fender, Virginia plate NZJ1—”

  “You know my truck’s VIN too? Jesus Christ, Tesco.”

  Hadley scolds, “Rod.” She doesn’t always like my garbage mouth, but if she knew what I want to do to her with it, she might change her mind.

  “It’s my job, Rodwell.” Yeah, it’s more than that. Ferrara also stalks me but not to this outrageous degree. “I can easily find out anything about you.” Ricky laughs for Hadley’s benefit, but I know he’s issuing me a warning on behalf of Finn Wilder. There are some things about me he’ll never find.

  Still watching me, Tesco says a touching farewell to everyone except me. Parting is such sweet... Yeah. Just sweet.

  When he’s gone, Hadley links her arm with mine, and my heart skips. I can’t help but smile at her. She’s now mine for the night. She tugs on my arm. “Let’s dance.” It’s not a question.

  “Uh...” I avoid Amos and Val, whose scorching stares follow us as Hadley releases my arm and grabs my hand instead. My heart’s skipping turns into a full-blown somersault down two flights of stairs. “Yeah, sure.” As we walk to the dance floor, I lock her fingers between mine and squeeze her hand. I don’t know if she ever catches onto the small things I do, but every single day, somehow, I tell Hadley I love her. “You know, Cinderella, I don’t think you can dance at the ball, wearing that dress.” You should just take it off.

  “Not fast.” We pass Brandon, who’s dressed as the geezer from Monopoly, complete with a top hat and fake money pinned all over his suit coat. He laughs with Grant, Sylvie, and more people I don’t know.

  Holding her hand tight in mine, I bite my lip before asking, “Where’s Finley tonight?”

  “Julie, Finn’s mom, is at our house.” And again, I don’t get a damn say with what happens to either of my supposed daughters.

  Knowing we have an audience, I gravitate us toward the back corner and past throngs of others dancing. When I stop, Hadley steps close to me, putting her hands on my shoulders. Unable to stay quiet, I say, “I told you to stop endorsing Rhonda. If I want to go out with her again, I will. But I don’t. She’s nice. I like her but not like that.” I lightly dig my fingers into her dress at her waist, struggling to not pull Hadley against me so she can feel what she does to me.

  Her hands move to my neck. Even that much of her skin on mine is better than none at all. While I study the many shades of green in her eyes, she asks, “What about Simone?”

  I blink away from Hadley’s face. “What about her?”

  She’s quiet and then says, “Rod, you don’t have to hide it. I know you’re sleeping with her.”

  “Christ. Not this again.” I let go of her, but Hadley holds tighter, not allowing me to leave.

  She argues, “It hurts you can’t tell me the truth.”

  “Because it doesn’t involve you.” What a lie.

  “But Simone... You kissed her.”

  “So?” I look at her face again, wanting to kiss her so fucking much, no matter who the hell is watching. “What do you have against Simone anyway? You’re practically my pimp when it comes to Rhonda. But Simone, it’s like she’s—”

  “She’s my sister-in-law. She’s a party girl.” I wonder how Hadley would really feel if I told her what kind of party Simone wanted to have with me.

  “Okay. So?”

  “And if you’re dating, you’ll be with Simone for family occasions. It’ll be weird, seeing you with her.”

  “Weird?”

  “Seeing you with her... I don’t... It’s...” She sighs, looking to my throat. “She’s gorgeous, Rod.” The clouds part, and I see the sun.

  “Holy fuck. I can’t believe it.” I laugh, not finding it funny but because it floors me. Hadley is actually admitting how she would feel if I were fucking Simone.

  Hadley’s eyes jump to mine. “What?”

  “Hadders, you’re jealous.”

  “Not jealous.” But Hadley no longer looks me in the eye. The fucking paradox of this is a slow burn that explodes into a flash fire.

  I grip her waist tighter, still imagining her riding my dick despite my irritation with her. “Why are you doing this to me, then?”

  When she doesn’t answer, I peel her hands from my neck. Needing distance, I leave her on the dance floor, blindly heading to the other side of Brandon’s house, where it’s darker. I’m sure he has a small park there where I can find a bench to mope.

  The food tables almost stop me, but I ultimately keep going, finding another pathway on the far side. I follow it. This side of the house isn’t as brightly lit or decorated. I guess Brandon’s wallet ran dry. On the right of the sidewalk is an elevated cement patio that butts up against a brick wall, and I go up the stairs, seeing a black metal table and chairs. With the shrubs hiding me from the party, I relax some as I walk to the open end of the patio that overlooks an incline. At the bottom is a fairly decent-sized pond with three fountains, illuminated brighter than the National Mall at night. I can’t even be surprised.

  Footsteps on cement put me on alert, but I don’t turn around. Whoever it is can fuck off. It was such a stupid idea to come here tonight.

  Behind me, I hear a sigh. “Rod, I’m... It’s confusing how I feel.”

  Crossing my arms, I focus on the fountains. I don’t need to look Hadley head-on during her rejections. “You’re not supposed to feel anything for me. And you keep reminding me you don’t.”

  “But I do.”

  I turn away from Brandon’s overkill, propping my hand on the brick wall next to me. “Like what?”

  Hadley stops in front of me. “It’s not jealousy. I didn’t want you with Shasta either.”

  “I didn’t even want to be with Shasta, so...”

  “You used Shasta because of me. That’s what you had said. Now you’re fucking Simone to fill the void?”

  A tad loud, I yell, “I’m not fucking her!”

  Surprised, Hadley shakes her head, looking anywhere but at me. Her green eyes then lock onto mine. “You’re not? I thought...”

  Frustrated, I rub my fingers over the brick m
ortar beneath them, answering, “No.”

  “Why not?”

  “Now you’re asking me why not?” I laugh, again not in the mood to joke. “Jesus, Hadley. Make up your damn mind.” I glare at her, hoping she’s changing it in my favor. I’d get a motel room instead of going to my apartment if she wanted to. Though, I’d prefer us to have sex in my bed, so I’d always have that with me.

  “Then maybe I should ask, why me?”

  “Why you?” I move closer to her while Hadley steps back until she’s against the brick wall.

  Her eyes amplify, maybe with surprise. “Rod...” She gulps for air, loudly swallows, and then whispers, “Greg, what’re you doing?”

  “The truth? You want it? You’re like fogged glass I can’t touch. A solar eclipse I can’t look at. Forbidden fruit I can’t eat. My married best friend. The one who I literally gave away. All I want is to forget you’re Mrs. Wilder while remembering those nights we almost had. I’ve tried, but I failed. I’m supposed to be your cheerful sidekick. The jester in your court. Instead, I’m losing my grip and my fucking mind. I can’t be the friend you want me to be. I know I can’t have you. You didn’t pick me. Hell, I barely came in third, but tell my stupid heart that, because it hasn’t caught up. I doubt it ever will.”

  “I... Oh, my God. No. I thought... I’m nobody, Greg. You’re so much more than that. You deserve to be loved by someone who can give you her whole self. I fucked up with you, but I didn’t fuck up your life. I just don’t know what to do to help you move on.”

  I put my hands on the wall, caging her between my arms. “Move on? It’s all I fucking think about. You wanted me, Hadley.”

  With me in her face, she whispers, “I did.”

  “And it wouldn’t have been a one-night stand?”

  “Everything would’ve changed between us.” Hadley sighs. “No. It wouldn’t have been a one-time thing.”

  “You would’ve taken off all your clothes?”

  Her eyes dart side to side before she closes them. “Greg.”

  “I’ll take that as a yes because I would’ve stripped them off you.” Hadley now gapes at me, and I go on. “Would we have done it in your bed?”

  “Don’t do this.”