by Lila Felix
She could be shocked all she wanted just as long as Blake backed the eff off.
“Cool off Crown. I was just talking to your neighbor. Since when do you get up this early?”
If this was how he intended for me to make friends, he was sorely mistaken. In fact, this is why I didn’t have friends. They were only loyal until they decided to take what I had.
“If you didn’t think I was gonna be up, then why’d you come here so early? Lyra, please, for the love of whatever, get inside.”
That earned me a middle finger from the angel, which made me want to smile. She had no idea how much her feisty attitude lit me up.
She could flip me off all she wanted, as long as she got her fine ass inside.
If Blake was using another one of his PT tricks, making me pissed off like that, it was working.
“We working out or flappin’ our jaws.”
“Let’s go.”
~~
“So he does know how to do pull-ups. Nice.” I’d taken all the aggression from that morning and used it on every exercise at that damned duck park. Even the nutria rat ran when he saw me coming.
“I’ve always known how. I just needed the right motivation.”
He laughed and got within my line of sight. “Mmmm…I knew I’d find something to get you pissed. People like you, who have taken to feeling sorry for themselves, pissed off usually gets them off their asses.”
I stopped and nearly gutted him for the rat’s dinner. “I don’t feel sorry for myself.”
“Come on Crown. You did that first week. You weren’t keeping up with your exercises. You weren’t eating. And you were nastier than the Hulk’s ball sack. You were one step away from a happy prescription.”
Instead of recognizing his assessment at all, I continued huffing my way through pull-ups and moved on to the next station without a word. He was right. That first week, I’d given up hope of ever returning to the field of who I used to be. It seemed like it had all slipped out of my hands. Instead of ignoring my silence, he pushed further, like a prick.
“I wasn’t trying to offend you. I was actually worried. It was not easy to see a patient like that.”
I smiled at him, trying to make it not creepy. For some reason, I thought my smile was creepy. Scowling seemed to work at keeping people satisfied.
“We are going around at least twice today. Get ready.”
“Oh!” Blake cupped his hands around his mouth and started yelling. “Ladies and Gentleman he’s back!” After he was done, he started making ‘Haaaaa!’ sounds like the crowds were cheering. I wished they were.
One day they would again and all of this would be a distant memory.
Like it never happened.
Not only did I go around the damned pond twice—I attempted to jog the second time. I thought Blake was gonna fall into the water in cardiac arrest. He made me stop and I thought he’d be pissed. He’d told me that he didn’t have to be pissed—I would pay for the mistake the next day.
As he pulled out of the drive, I heard a door open and knew that while I would pay for my physical overkill tomorrow, I would pay for the earlier incident right then.
“We need to talk.” I bit down on my lips trying very hard not to laugh. I’m sure she meant the demand to scare me into obedience, but really it just kind of made me want to scoop her up and show her how I could follow the rules of our agreement to a T.
“So talk.”
“Come in.”
“No, you come to my house. I’m all dirty and sweaty.”
She sighed and looked into her apartment. Other than her flowery furniture and overabundance of books and records, her apartment was the exact same as mine. Whatever she was looking at couldn’t be that anchoring.
Not giving her an option, I went in my place and left the door open. She followed slowly, and stopped at the threshold.
“Is that stuff off?” She sounded almost childish, pointing to my wall with the TV and stereo equipment.
“Yes. Some woman told me I couldn’t listen to it loudly so it just stays unplugged, so stop asking me that every time you come in. Plus, I’ve realized TV is just boring.”
Lyra poked her head in and looked around once more before stepping inside. Her feet were bare. In a nervous fit of some kind she smoothed the front of her dress over and over before sitting on the very edge of the couch.
“I like the dress.” I offered. Only the devil knew why I did.
“Calligraphy.” She mumbled.
“What?”
“Nothing. I’m giving you an opportunity to tell me what this morning was about before I assume anything.”
“This morning?” Playing dumb worked for me sometimes. People assumed that because I was good looking and a jock that I was stupid.
From the look on her face, it didn’t work at all on Lyra.
“I got up early to meet Blake for a workout and he was out there wasting my time, chatting it up with you. It pissed me off. I’m paying him for this and he was acting like it was recess time.” If recess time included hitting on Lyra.
“Huh.” She said, still looking preoccupied with my electronic equipment.
“What’s your deal with that?” I tipped my head toward the TV.
“There is no deal. I just don’t like it. It freaks me out. Anyway, that’s personal. Personal isn’t part of the deal.” She stood up and stomped back to the doorway. “And neither is yelling at me. You have something to say, say it. I hate when people yell.”
In my anger I’d forgotten about her not liking loud noises. I was so concerned about Blake touching her—something that I’d already claimed—that I wasn’t thinking straight.
After taking a shower and changing clothes, I was already sore. I popped one pill, instead of two, and deciding that an angry Lyra wouldn’t be quite as willing to play along, I braced myself for an apology.
There was a reason I didn’t often apologize. One, I didn’t do very many things wrong. And two, in the case I did, I rarely cared enough about the offended party to give a shit.
Chapter Sixteen
Lyra
Patience Is Placating
“You’re awfully casual today.” Chela remarked over her chai latte. Crown had said earlier that he liked my dress and in spite of him, I took it off and opted for shorts and a tank top instead. It was my own personal get back at him.
“I am. How have you been?”
She shrugged. “I’m fine. Eric is well. Honestly, he’s a bit frustrated. He had this blown out of proportion notion that Crown would be here and they would build a relationship. Crown is so shut off.”
I whirled the straw around in my iced tangerine green tea. Crown wasn’t closed off. He was just so focused on himself that he probably didn’t even recognize how desperate Eric was to get to know him.
“I thought Eric was taking him on a swamp tour. I know they can’t talk much with the airboat running, but maybe they can stop and fish. Crown has probably never fished. It seems like he didn’t stray much from the soccer path.”
In all honesty, I hadn’t heard anything from Crown except soccer. I’d dragged out the fact that maybe he liked reading, but I had a feeling he didn’t like admitting that at all. Crown and I were similar. After my ordeal with Abraham, I’d locked myself away out of fear. Crown had been locked into a life with one solitary goal and the rest of the world had been taken from him.
In short, we both needed more of a life.
A life wasn’t part of the deal. The deal was—the appearance of a life and the appearance of love.
Nothing more.
“Maybe you could go with them. Eric loves you like a daughter.”
Oh the guilt of looking that tiny lady in the face and wanting so badly to say no.
“I’ll check with Crown and see what he says.” I didn’t know why I promised that. Chela had a way about her. She was so cute and grandmotherly, you just wanted to make her happy. Even the guy at the coffee counter went into full pleasing mode when she pouted her l
ip out when he said they didn’t serve chai lattes anymore. It was just who she was. It was because she was so kind. She and I had lunch at least twice a month.
I loved being around her and I wasn’t even related to her.
Crown was squandering his efforts on publicity when he should be taking advantage of the situation.
“He’s a handsome one that Crown.”
“Yeah, just ask him.”
“Lyra!” She was appalled at my response, but her following giggles proved me right. She looked to her left and right and leaned in closely. “I’ve never seen so much black leather furniture in all my life.”
It was my turn to laugh. Her coifed hair and refined dressing habit camouflaged a fun lady. She would never speak an ill word about anyone, choosing instead the time honored tradition of saying ‘bless his heart.’ If the offense was particularly bad, she’d revert to ‘bless his little pea pickin’ heart.
We continued playing around while she finished up her drink.
“Well, my darlin’, Eric will be expecting dinner soon. Make sure we don’t wait too long to do this again.”
“We won’t. Promise.”
All the way home, I really thought about the situation I’d gotten myself into. Crown Sterling needed a lot more than a publicity show. He needed so many things that he didn’t even have a clue about. This whole thing would be a piece of cake for me. All I really had to do was to let him use my name and take a few selfies.
I wasn’t so imperious that I thought my way was better than Crown’s, I just thought he was missing out on so much.
Getting home, I flitted through mail and marked off another day on the calendar. Abraham would be released in one less day.
I would completely freak out on day ten, guaranteed.
I took out some steaks for dinner and damn it all to hell if I didn’t think about Crown and his pitiful inability to cook. Tippi walked in the door a minute later, breathless.
“Why are you here? Get your ass to the window.”
“What?”
“I heard some noises in the back as I walked up the drive, so I thought you were outside.” She said all this while shoving me toward the window. My stomach plummeted to my toes, thinking the worst. The old pervert had gotten out of jail and was in my backyard? If that was the case, why was she making me look instead of calling the cops? “Then I saw that.”
Behind me, Tippi wrapped her arms around my middle and we both sighed at the sight.
“What is he doing?”
“Watch. My damned phone is dead, otherwise I’d video that shit.”
“No you wouldn’t.” I said more harshly than I intended. “He doesn’t know.”
Her hold on me eased. “I’m sorry, Lyra. I didn’t mean to.”
“I know. It’s not the same thing. Sorry.”
“They should chain Abraham to the wall, by his dick, for what he did to you.” She whispered it in my ear and the word you caught in her throat.
I changed the subject. My heart did some kind of double beat when I saw Crown this way.
“Where did he find a kitten?” Trying its best not to touch the grass beneath its paws was a pint-sized white kitten—completely snow white with the exception of a gray tail. Crown was laid out on his belly, no shirt, moving his hand around in the grass trying to entice it closer. A black cereal bowl was on my table full of milk.
Crown’s eyebrows were drawn in a serious effort to call the tiny feline. Little by little, as we watched, the kitten pawed at Crown’s hand getting closer and closer to him. It was like watching a slow moving stand-off.
The kitten was clearly winning.
“Look at his left hand.” Tippi whispered like she was outside with him and didn’t want to spook the cat. Crown’s left hand was inching forward while the snowball was distracted by his constantly taunting right one. Just at the moment the kitten figured him out, Crown grabbed him gently and brought the kitten to his face for a nuzzle.
The water running down his back was surely the melted ice because despite my intended efforts, that tiny mammal had just broken the iceberg of a man—and made me fall a little in the process.
“My word that may be the cutest thing I’ve ever seen. Who knew he was a cat person?”
I didn’t even think Crown knew he was a cat person.
“Not me. He’s not even a person, person. Are we wrong for watching him?”
She spoke with her chin on my shoulder. “We are simply looking in your backyard, Lyra. There’s no cameras in his shower.”
I sighed. Anything that bordered on voyeurism put a buck in my system. Being watched while you didn’t know it wasn’t fun. It was terrifying.
For at least fifteen minutes we watched Crown love on that kitten. He didn’t need me for publicity. All he needed to do was to have someone post a picture of him and that kitten on Facebook and his soccer career would never quit. He could be the sorriest player they’d ever seen and still the women would flock to him.
“It’s kind of hard not to fall when you’re so close to the edge.” Tippi whispered in my ear. I knew what she meant. Seeing him like this, vulnerable and exposed, I could almost imagine that I was seeing the version of Crown that no one knew about. This was who he was, minus the soccer and the fans.
“Awww, the milk.” Tippi cooed. The kitten was now on my table drinking milk from Crown’s severe black bowl. Its tiny pink tongue may have been cuter than the man himself.
He would refute that point all the way to the grave.
“I’m leaving. Give this to him.” She handed me a sealed envelope. “Call me later.” I didn’t watch her leave or show her to the door. I could barely manage to breathe while taking in the happenings outside, much less maintain my manners.
“What would they think, Crown, if they saw you like this?” He probably thought it would make him look like less of a hardened player—weak. “They would think you actually had a heart—maybe even a soul.”
He would be wrong if he thought they would think less of him.
The way for any man to show his strength was to prove how he cared for the weak.
Still looking at them both, I saw a smile bloom on Crown’s face. As it did, a long, vertical dimple came along with it. I’d never seen a dimple that deep in someone’s cheek.
Deciding not to only watch, I opened the back door. I hoped he wouldn’t about face and drop the kitten on the ground to its death.
“Hey,” he murmured, his eyes still trained on the drinking cat.
“Hi. Where’d your friend come from?”
Finally he looked at me. I released a breath I hadn’t released I was holding. Those smoky eyes of his held something that broke the chains in me, released my chest from its constantly seized state.
They were like foggy bridges leading directly into him.
“She was over there in those pink flowers.” He pointed to some flowers which weren’t flowers at all. They were weeds. But Crown saw them as flowers. Maybe I was the cynic in all this after all.
“Was she crying?” I needled him for more information since he wasn’t fulfilling my greediness for the whole story.
“Yeah. I was out here walking, trying to loosen this knee up and I heard her.”
“Is it a she?”
He laughed. Tiny creases formed at the outer counters of his almond-shaped eyes.
“I think I know the difference between a he and a she, Lyra.”
I sat down slowly at the table across from the charming duo. “What’s her name then?”
“Sally.” From his tone, I knew that was something he’d hoped to get away with not admitting.
“What kind of name is that?”
I got no response. Instead, he backed up the chair and held the cat at arm’s length. I’d struck a chord and now he was detaching himself from the whole situation.
“You know, one picture of you and that cat and the world would be on its knees.”
Okay, maybe not the world. Maybe just me. Maybe I just
wanted proof that this was all happening.
He lit up at my suggestion. “Can you get into the picture too?”
“Not my face.” I reminded him.
“Not the face. You—um…”
Taking a picture with him without showing my face was a must. I never showed my face at work and I’d be damned if I was going to now. However, it was easier said than done.
“Here, like this.” I extended my hand and grabbed his, nudging him to stand. The kitten was next, I cuddled her in my hands, rubbing her feathery hair along my face.
Crown’s phone was already poised in his hand. Instead of the regular selfie, I got a spurt of artistic license and decided to go behind him.
“Wait, sit down again.”
I thought he’d protest, but he didn’t. Now in the right position, I moved to his left side and wrapped my right arm over his shoulder and splayed my hand on his chest. I hoped it didn’t look artificial—even though it was. Sally got in the picture by propping on one of his pecs.
Slowly I pressed my face to the side of his neck below his ear. My hair was down and the lengths fell, piece by piece, over his shoulder.
My heart pounded in my chest harder than I thought possible as I breathed him in. His skin was sweat kissed and without permission or a care, my lips kissed it away, just to take something of him inside me. Crown Sterling tasted like the sun, golden, pure, and clean. The warmth of his neck, was almost too much to bear. His breath hitched as my lips pulled away. It was stupid and careless. My first thought was that he’d flinch or stretch away from my reach.
It never happened.
“Did you get it?” In all my thoughts about his neck, I’d forgotten to listen for the click of the camera.
“Several, actually.”
It was ridiculous, but drawing myself away from the closeness was near to pain.
“You want to see before I post it?”
I assumed he meant social media, another digital aged technology that I chose to veer far away from. “It’s fine.” I brushed off the question.
That’s what he wanted. He wanted this all to be business and to mean absolutely nothing to me.
I would be the unchallenged queen of deceit.
“I’m going inside.”