by Ruthi Kight
My hand was moving towards the door when it opened, throwing me off balance for a minute. I caught myself before I fell flat on my face, and when I looked up, there he was, smiling down at me.
“Back so soon?” he asked as he moved aside, waving me in. He shut the door behind me, locking it once more. The snick of the lock set my nerves on edge, but I pushed it down. He wasn't locking it to keep me in. I had to keep reminding myself of that. “What can I help you with?”
I straightened my posture and pulled my shoulders back, bracing myself for the inevitable denial that would surely come. “I'll cut right to it. I need a job and you just fired Captain Creepy today, so I figured you might be in need of help.”
“Captain Creepy? That's a new one. I like it. Definitely fits him,” he replied. I followed him to the display counter where the cash register sat. “Know how to run one of these?” He pointed at the machine and I shook my head.
“But I'm a fast learner. It can't be that hard,” I said.
“Know anything about surfing?”
“Nope.”
“Do you have any qualifications that would make me want to hire you?” He was on the verge of laughing. I could see it on his face as he questioned me.
“Look, I'm desperate. I'm pretty fucking positive that no one else in this town would even consider giving me a job. I just thought that since you weren't a total douche canoe, that you would be willing. If you're not, I understand.”
“You have a very...colorful vocabulary,” he replied. “Look, I do need help, but I don't have the time to train you. You would have to learn everything on your own. Trial and error and all that shit.”
I nodded enthusiastically. “I can do it. I promise.”
“Fine. Be back here tomorrow at seven sharp.”
He couldn't be serious. Seven in the morning? “Wow...you open...early,” I stuttered.
“By that time, most surfers are already slowing down for the day. So technically, I'm still late getting the place open. But I have other shit to deal with in the mornings, so I can't open when they start their day. Do you want the job, or not?”
With a nod, I said “Of course. I'll bring coffee.”
“Good idea,” he said with a smile. “Now, if you don't mind, I have to get out of here. Got to close up shop and get home.”
“Of course. Sorry. I'll get out of here,” I said as I walked back to the front door. Before I left, I turned to him and smiled. “Thanks, again, for the chance.”
With a simple nod of his head, he sent me packing once again. I practically skipped all the way back to Liam's house. Things were finally starting to look up for me, but I couldn't help but wonder how long it would last. Good shit never lasted long in my life. Liam...a place to live...and my new boss, Dread.
Fuck! I never asked him what his name was. Was he the Mike, who the shop was named after? Or was he someone else altogether? I'd make sure to ask tomorrow, or he would forever be named Dread in my mind. While that wasn't a bad name, I doubted that he would find the reference as amusing as I did.
When I got home, the lights were on throughout the entire house. I walked right in, and even though it felt weird to do so, I knew that I was supposed to. What I found was definitely not what I had been expecting though. Right there, on my “bed,” was Liam. His arms encircled a stranger's body, his hands roaming to places that people were forced to cover in public.
“Shit! Sorry,” I said as I tried to run back out the front door.
“Delia!” I heard his voice calling to me, and the sound of his footsteps pounding behind me, but I ignored him. After the past few days, and the limited interactions that we had had, I didn't think that he was involved with someone. But, I was obviously fucking wrong.
Guess I learned my lesson, yet again. No matter how nice, how sweet, you may think a man was, deep down he was still a man. I felt so stupid! He had completely fooled me into thinking that he was just some overly trusting guy with voyeur tendencies. Hell no! He was just a typical guy who couldn't keep his dick in his pants and preyed on vulnerable women.
As I ran away from the house and down to the beach, all I could think about was how I was going to get my shit out of his house. It would be far too awkward to go back and grab it, especially when I think that stupid bitch was sitting on my bag of clothes.
When I hit the sand, I fell to my knees. Liam was still trailing behind me, but I didn't care. There was no way that I could outrun him, especially on the sand. I felt sand slap against my back as he skidded to a stop behind me. His breath was coming in quick, labored gulps, almost matching tempo with my own.
“Delia, please-”
“Go home, Liam. Just leave me the fuck alone,” I whispered. My shell was breaking, leaving my heart exposed for the world to see.
He knelt down beside me and put his hand on my back, but I immediately shrugged him off. “Look, I know that looked bad...”
“But? Where's the but? The sorry ass excuse that always follows shit like that? Come on, let's hear it.” I looked over at him, my eyes shooting daggers straight into his gorgeous face. In that moment, I couldn't decide what I wanted more: to punch him in the fucking nose, or kiss his swollen lips.
He shook his head slowly, digesting my words. “I don't have an excuse. None that would make this better, at least.” He stood up and wiped the dirt off of his knees. “You and I...we're not together. I mean, right now we live together, but we aren't together, together.”
“No shit, jackass. I never said we were.” I stood up and faced him, the anger rolling off of my body like the roaring waves pounding behind me. “That was clearly my fuck up. I mistakenly thought, for some fucking reason, that you and I...forget it. It doesn't matter. I'll get my shit and be on my way.”
I started to walk past him, but his hand flew out, landing on my arm. His grip wasn't painful, but the feeling of his skin on mine was more than I could handle. “Let. Me. Go,” I said through clenched teeth.
He didn't release me, instead pulling me closer to him. I tried to wiggle away, but he was stronger than I was. “Stop! Just...fuck. You're infuriating, you know that?” With a final pull, I was yanked flush against his chest. Both of us were breathing heavy. I could feel every breath he drew into his body. The feeling of his chest rubbing against mine was a sensory overload.
“You need to let me go, Liam. Seriously.” I could feel the itch in my fingers. It was becoming too much. The need to torch something was rising within me, forcing its way up and out of my body.
“No, you need to hear me out. Just calm the fuck down,” he said as he loosened his grip, but only slightly. There was still no getting free from his grasp.
“There's nothing to hear. Just back off!” I shoved at him, but he didn't budge. His face was fierce, his eyes on fire as he gazed down on me, with his mouth set in a hard line.
His hand let go of my arm, but didn't leave my body. It made a slow, torturous trip up, grazing the inside of my elbow. The tips of his fingers were calloused, leaving a tickling sensation at every point that he came in contact with. The tingles that trailed behind were purely physical, my body reacting to his touch.
When he reached my neck, his fingers danced under my chin, then made their way to my nape. He slowly caressed the back of my neck, as he inched my body closer to him. If we got much closer, we would be sharing clothes.
He bent his head down, his ear dangerously close to my ear. I could feel his breath as it swept across the tender flesh of my neck, then the butterfly touch of his lips on my ear lobe. My body was covered in goose bumps, my blood was boiling beneath my skin, and I wanted nothing more than to pull him inside of me.
“Are you ready?” he whispered against my neck. Words were not possible, as my body reacted to the hormonal overload. With a nod, I braced myself for what was to come. “Good, ‘cause there's something I've been dying to do since we met.”
As he spoke, his breath engulfed me, drowning me. My body was on high alert, all senses begging, rea
ching out for what was to come. When his tongue trailed up the lobe of my ear, I nearly came undone. My panties were thoroughly soaked already, and he hadn't even touched me between my thighs yet!
“Liam,” I moaned, unable to stop my voice from shaking.
He nibbled lightly on my ear before moving down my neck, his lips scorching my skin as he tasted and teased. My body was lit up. I was scared that fireworks would start shooting out my ass at any moment.
“You taste like...coconut,” he said before licking his way up my neck. “It's fucking delicious.” He groaned and pressed his hips into me. I could feel his approval as it rubbed against my belly, sending flares rushing through every inch of my body.
When he pulled back to look at me, his eyes were dark and hooded. He had the look of a man starving to death who had just been served a fucking T-bone steak. “I'm going to kiss you now,” he said, rubbing his thumb across my lower lip. I flicked my tongue out, catching the tip as he moved it. “Fuck. You're going to be the death of me.”
With those final words, he lowered his mouth to mine. Those lips that I had obsessed over were finally on mine, our tongues tangling together. His mouth tasted of mint, eliciting a groan from my own. His flavor was so fucking delicious. I never wanted to experience another mouth, or imagine another woman enjoying his. The odd sensation of territorial aggression was not what I expected, but I embraced it.
If we were going to do this, then he couldn't run back in there with Big Titty Barbie. Reluctantly, I pulled away. My tongue ran across my swollen, well-kissed lips and I watched as his eyes followed my every movement. A low growl escaped him and he made a quick move, dropping a chaste kiss on my lips.
“I've dreamt of how that tongue of yours would taste and feel. Never thought it would be that fucking good,” he said as he stood up to his full height.
It was so quick, yet so full of promise. Like nothing I had expected. “Oh shit...Liam,” his name hissing through my teeth. “Wait,” I said, halfheartedly pushing him away. “We need,” I gasped as his hand began to roam down my back. “Talk. Yes, talk. We need to talk.”
His wandering hands didn't stop, but he pulled back, putting a few inches between us. “The last thing I want to do is talk,” he said with a grin. My resolve faltered, but I couldn't let it crumble. I shook my head and put my hands on his chest. “Okay. Talk. We can do that.”
He was disappointed, I could tell, but this was something that needed to be handled. I refused to be a piece on the side. If he wanted that kind of attention from me, then he would have to make a choice. Right then.
“How can we sit here, doing this,” I gestured between us, “when you were just wrapped around another chick?” Meeting his eyes, even though we were so close, was one of the hardest things I had ever done. Putting myself out there, asking what this was...it was terrifying.
He glanced over his shoulder at the house, his face hidden within the shadows. “She is just...a friend. We used to date, a long time ago, but now,” he said, running his hands over his face, “now, she's just an occasional thing. That's all.”
Occasional “thing”? What the fuck was that supposed to mean? I pleaded with my eyes, begging him to be a little more specific. His explanation was sorely lacking and left a bitter taste in my mouth. “We hook up sometimes. When neither of us are...with someone else. It's just sex.”
I wanted to punch him in the throat. Just sex? I wasn't naïve enough to think that sex should only be between two people who loved each other, but fuck! Shouldn't they at least be together? Not just randomly shoving his dick into whatever girl he found for the week? It sickened me that he thought it was okay to treat anyone that way.
“Wow. So,” I said as I stepped away from him. He tried to move forward, but I stopped him. “No, this isn't going to work. Not just no, but hell no. Who knows what kind of venereal diseases are hitching a ride on your banana boat!”
He was no longer turned on, unless turning bright fucking red, with smoke coming out his ears meant he was horny. No, he was pissed. His hands clenched and his body was shaking. “Diseases? What the fuck? I don't just shove my shit into just anyone, Delia! I have standards. I have...lady friends!”
I had to laugh. No one fucking said “lady friends” anymore. Hearing them tumble from his mouth made it that much funnier. He couldn't say fuck buddies? It wasn't that hard, and it sure as hell wasn't a new concept, that was for sure. He was sugar coating what he did, which just made it that much worse.
“I think it would be best, if we kept shit strictly friendly. No offense, but I don't want to be just another rider on your baloney pony. I have more respect for myself.”
With no concern for a response, I walked away. Going back to the house right then wasn't an option, but I could hang out on the beach until I was sure his lady friend had left. This time I didn't hear him following me, which was a relief, but it was bittersweet. Just had to keep reminding myself that I had made the right decision.
There were no other options right then. I would just have to ignore the pull I felt towards him and move on with my life. There would be other guys. There would eventually be somewhere else to live. Until that day, I'd have to keep my head down and just survive. Focus was officially my word for the year.
Chapter Nine
Going back inside the house after two in the morning made my early as hell wakeup call that much worse. I had to be at the surf shop by seven, which meant I'd have to leave the house no later than six thirty. Running on fumes, I barely made it out of the house on time. Before I walked out, I left a note on the kitchen counter.
Got a job at Mike’s Surf Shop. Be back later. ~ D
The only saving grace of the morning was that Liam hadn't been up and moving yet. I still had no idea how I was going to handle the awkwardness that was bound to happen. Could we live together and still manage not to kill each other? Or fuck each other, for that matter? We were playing with fire, something that I swore I would never do again.
The door was unlocked when I got to the shop, so I let myself in. “Hello?” I called out. Dread popped up from behind the counter, scaring the shit out of me. “Fuck dude! Why were you hiding?” I asked as I grabbed my chest.
He laughed. “Sorry, I dropped something down there in the abyss.” He dusted off his knees, then straightened back up. “So, you're on time. Honestly? I thought you would be late.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence.”
“You ready to work?” I nodded, but held up my hand¸ stopping whatever he was about to say.
“I feel like an ass right now, but what the fuck is your name? In my head I've been calling you Dread...but I have a feeling that's not your name.” My cheeks were on fire, proclaiming my embarrassment for all the world to see.
He didn't seem offended, just smiled one of his heart stopping smiles. “It's Mike. Well...Mike Jr., but I just go by Mike these days.”
So the name did fit. I could remember the shop being here even when I was a kid, so he was definitely not the original owner. He couldn't have been that much older than me. “Family business?”
His face fell for a split second before he recovered. “It was my dad's place. He opened it when he was about my age. He died a few years ago and left it to me. So here I am.”
For someone who was the proud owner of the best surf shop in town, he sure didn't seem overly enthused about his current position. I decided to just leave it at that and nodded. It was obvious, from the way his face clouded, it was a sore subject that he wasn't interested in exploring.
“Okay, so where do we start? Boss?”
The rest of the morning was spent in a dizzying blur. There were a ton of customers, all of them expecting me to know exactly what they were talking about. No, I didn't know the best wax to use and no, I could not recommend which one they should buy. Hell, I told one of them that if it were me, I'd choose the one that smelled the best.
That answer earned me a confused look and an over exaggerated shake of his head.
I obviously had a lot of homework to do that night, once I got home. Mike had said that I would need to learn as I went, so I didn't want to let him down. He needed to know that he had made the right decision when he gave me a chance.
***
By lunch time, I felt like a fucking zombie. My feet were screaming for relief, my back was throbbing, and I had the beginnings of a massive migraine. All in all, it wasn't that bad of a first day. Well, considering it was only my first day, I really had nothing to compare it to.
“Ready to quit yet?” asked Mike as he put the Out to Lunch sign up on the door.
“Hell no. Having too much fun over here,” I replied, finishing up the stocking of the sunblock shelves. I stood and stretched my back, listening as each vertebrae decided to play the Rice Krispies theme.
“You can take off for the day. The rest of the day is nothing but lessons, so I usually just close up. You did really well. Be proud.”
We said goodbye and I left, moving slowly as I tried not to pop the blisters that were already forming on the bottom of my feet. The walk home gave me a chance to think, which I had been doing a lot of lately. Once again, my brain reminded me that I hadn't taken my medication in two days, but this time, I ignored the warning bells. I had been doing really well without them, so what was the harm?
Maybe, just maybe, I didn't actually need them. What if those doctors had been wrong? There was no way to really diagnose someone as being a pyromaniac, so how did they really know? They had just assumed I was because of the accident. And no matter what they had tried to say, I had always maintained it had been an accident.
Looking down at my watch, I saw it was still pretty early in the day. Liam would probably still be at the library for at least a few more hours, so it was the perfect time to head home and relax for a little while. Maybe even head down to the beach for a few hours of soaking up the sun.