Regretfully Yours

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Regretfully Yours Page 59

by Sunniva Dee


  “Are you there, son?”

  “I’m not your son. If I’m anyone’s son, Alan, it’s Grandma’s. She raised me. Not you.”

  “Dominic, listen—”

  “No, you listen. One fucking year and I’m back, okay? Ten months! Step up for once and take care of her. She raised you too.”

  I punch the phone off and hurl it across the room. The damn thing dents the corner of a framed poster. Behind me, Pandora lets out a surprised yelp.

  “Sorry,” I say again. “Sorry.”

  And all I can do is grab my shit and take off.

  No one’s at the gym this early on Sundays, which suits me fine. Rob arches a brow at me when I stride into the weight room with the same, damp workout clothes from the night before. I’m becoming predictable.

  “Dude, that girl get to you again?” He chortles.

  “Naw, family.” I finish taping my hands before tightening the gloves around my wrists.

  “Shit yeah.” He nods. “Family, man—I’m telling you.”

  “Yeah.”

  “So, you over the chick, yet?” Rob’s too nosy for comfort.

  “I better be. I’ve got too much crap going on.”

  He cackles at me. “Uh-huh. Not done, then? You with her last night or somethin’?”

  “Back off, Rob.”

  He lifts his hands, palms toward me, but what he says doesn’t support the gesture of surrender. “Sounds like you were to me. So—I’ve found me a chick too, dude.”

  “You have?” I fill water while he chatters.

  “Yup, she came in here yesterday. Gorgeous little thing. Had a friend with her, a redhead. She was hot too, but this one? She had some killer jugs and a great ass.”

  I roll my eyes. Rob knows how to describe the ladies. My mood lifts fractionally, though.

  “Should’ve seen her wiggle that ass on the elliptical.” He grins.

  I can’t hold back a smirk as I head over to do bicep curls. He follows me, handing me the towel I forgot at his station.

  “I’ll introduce you to the redhead,” he promises. “Next time she comes, I’m asking Blondie out.”

  “All right.”

  Rob cackles again, another big smile stretching over his face. “We’ll do a double date. For the meal, at least. You know what I mean? Huh?” He waggles his eyebrows like the idiot he is. “Then, I’ll have her for dessert! All night.”

  I snort into a laugh. “You horn dog.”

  When he leaves me to my music, I stuff the earplugs in and let my mind whirl. For the fifth time today, I recount the months remaining until I’m finished with this degree and can pick up work at Uncle Alan’s.

  I wish I could trust someone else with my grandmother until I’m done in Deepsilver. I wonder about Melissa. My ex was the only other female around the house during my high school years. Grandma and Melissa would bake, scrapbook, and discuss my flaws and virtues behind my back. Their bonding was cute and obnoxious at once.

  But heartbroken high school sweethearts don’t dole out favors. What an ass I was to her back then. It’s been half a decade, though, I think to myself. For a brief moment, I play with the idea of asking her. Until I remember some of her more creative revenges. Like when she left my brand new cell phone to die in a margarita glass filled with fish oil.

  I drop it to think about Alan. Once I move back home, it’ll be a pisser to work with him. My uncle isn’t a bad guy, just fucking clueless when it comes to people. He’s an old bachelor with no kids, so the only relationships he has to maintain besides his clients are with my grandma and me. Which is difficult enough for him.

  It’s therapeutic to work my body into exhaustion. A couple of hours later, I’ve downed a protein bar and three Gatorades from the machine in the hallway. My hair drips sweat into my eyes, and my T-shirt is soaked.

  “You mind if I take my shirt off?” I yell at Rob.

  “Nah, no one’s here yet, so that’s fine.”

  The fan against my bare skin cools me down, and I do broomstick twists with hand weights until fire shoots up my obliques.

  I let my mind rewind to Grandma. Besides staying in touch every day, I can’t do much about the situation until I return. Once I’m there, though, I’m moving back into her house—my childhood home. I’ll look after her. Not only has she taken care of me my whole life, she also spent her savings on my first year in college. I owe this beautiful lady everything.

  My thoughts flow to Pandora. She was a mess yesterday, and the look on Leon’s face as he cleaned her up still bothers me. I drop the weights to rub my face.

  Yeah, Pandora caught Leon’s eye last night, which is anything but good. She has barely arrived, and I bet she’s got a full four years to go. He could get to her. Form her into one of his… “companions.”

  Sure, Christian swears he’s an awesome boss. But his girlfriends? A jab pierces my solar plexus.

  I could shield her. Doesn’t mean I have to plunge face first into some sort of thing with her. I’ve got the missus over at Elysium. Ha, perhaps I’ll take Rob up on setting me up with the redhead. It wouldn’t surprise me if he scored a date with the new girl at the gym.

  I exhale, relieved. A peek at my watch shows ten a.m. As I stand to fetch my stuff, two new customers enter.

  It’s a redhead and a blondie.

  Shannon and Pandora.

  And Rob? Is fawning all over them.

  Pandora makes it onto an elliptical before Rob reaches her. He’s trying to lean on the console, which is too high up.

  “Good morning, ladies!” His gaze goes to Pandora. “What’s your name again?”

  “Pandora, and this is Shannon,” she volunteers.

  “Great, wonderful. Glad to see you girls back! So any soreness after yesterday?” Rob drawls the last words out into an unwarranted innuendo.

  Pandora is still pale. Headache, I’m guessing. If so, she doesn’t need a chipper trainer with his brain on half-mast.

  “No, I’m okay,” she clips out, and I walk over, ready to save her. Recognition brightens her eyes when she discovers me. Then, they darken. “Yeah. No soreness. None!”

  Hmm, was that one aimed at me?

  Even pouting, she’s damn adorable. Rob’s forehead furrows, his attention following hers to me, and I chuckle. She took my abstinence in stride last night, but I could swear she’s mad at me now.

  “You’re a cat,” I tell her, referring to her ever-changing moods. She crosses her arms and glares at me.

  “No, you are. A scaredy-cat. You run off every time.”

  “Hey, I stayed all night.”

  She’s got a lock of hair out of place. It’s long, golden, and hangs over a boob. I don’t stare, because I’m not Rob. But I can’t help brushing it away from her face.

  “Um.” Rob scratches his head, his eyes flicking between us. “You guys know each other?”

  Pandora and I answer simultaneously.

  “Yes,” I say.

  “No,” is her verdict.

  “I wouldn’t have slept over if I didn’t know you.”

  “Unless it’s stranger sex,” Shannon chimes in.

  “Or unless he’s, like, NOT having sex.”

  Goodness. She’s straight out pissy.

  “You were okay with it a few hours ago, babe. Why are you upset now?”

  She climbs off the elliptical and starts to walk away. When I grab her elbow, she shakes me off and keeps moving.

  Behind us, Rob tells Shannon, “Ha, they don’t fool me. They know each other. This?” He points to his head. “Is not just a hat rack.”

  Pandora must not be paying attention to where she’s going, because she backs herself into a corner where the glass walls meet in a red steel beam. She’s fucking edible with her chest heaving.

  “And plus?” she begins, her voice goi
ng up as if she’s starting in on a question. “You’re not entitled to call me ‘babe.’”

  “I’m not?”

  “No, only people who sleep with me when I want it…” Her lip starts quivering at the corner, like she’s trying to contain a smile.

  God, she’s so—

  I lean my forearms against the walls around her. Taking a step in, I push our bodies together. Since Pandora doesn’t put up a fight, I deliver a quick kiss. “You were drunk, Panda,” I murmur.

  The smack of a second kiss fills the air and vanishes.

  “Not when we woke up, I wasn’t,” she whispers.

  “My uncle called and pissed me off.”

  “See? Exactly,” she starts, confusing me. Small hands push against me, causing me to back up, but I’m not removing my arms.

  “Dominic, you got mad and ran off instead of telling me about it. I’d have cooked you, like, breakfast, while you talked.”

  Her brain does leaps I can’t follow, so I ask, “Are you done, babe?”

  She frowns in response. Clearly, I asked the wrong question. I try again. “Another kiss?”

  Pandora looks like she’ll say no, so I dive in before she can. Despite the displeased expression, she opens for me. Soft. Warm.

  “Don’t,” she mumbles while her arms drape over my shoulders. Her mixed messages give me a serious hard-on, and I can’t think straight.

  Deep in my chest, it’s there, premonition-style; this—she—has the power to destroy me. Pandora. She’s a wild child, and yet I want to be around her. Make her smile. Moan.

  Fuck.

  This is a fleeting sensation, though, because I’m focused. I know my future, and I’ll bow out of this. Return to my all-studies-and-work routine.

  I kiss her again. Press her lithe body into mine.

  Just for another second.

  “How’s Scheuermann?” I ask.

  “Pretty good…” She sighs like we’re not talking about her back. I keep her still so I can tap around the spine. The knots along her column are barely noticeable at the moment.

  Pandora arches into me during my swift examination. Her head falls to a side, revealing her neck. I prod again, higher up this time, but while I do, I taste the white skin at her throat.

  “Told you!” Rob shouts from across the room to Shannon. “And guess what else, that, I betcha she’s the reason Dom’s working out nonstop lately. I mean day and night. I said to him the other day…” He trails off, and I wonder if he’s actually censoring himself.

  “Rob.” Shannon’s voice is sweet. “You might be right.”

  11. HOMEWORK

  PANDORA

  My headache disappeared with Dominic’s kisses.

  Freaking A!

  The man’s a wizard. I’ve been in Deepsilver for nine days, and already I’m a bumbling idiot, just craving someone’s touch.

  Stranger sex. Shannon’s expression from Nonstop Fitness hits me with its grim truth. One-night stand after one-night stand. If it’s with the same person, is it still called that?

  I stare down at the calculus book in front of me. This should be easy; I’ve got a knack for this. Instead of studying, though, I think of Dominic. He was so mad on the phone last night. Then, he blew me off…

  My nipples pucker as I recall the way he trapped me at the gym. His lips, always his lips. I can’t seem to get them out of my head. But if I am to remain a straight-A student like I was in high school and keep my parents at arm’s length, I’ve got to get a grip.

  “Are you done yet?” Mica plops down on the other barstool in the kitchen. She’s jittery with unspent energy. “Let’s do something after you finish, ’kay?”

  The blank page in my notebook glares at me, and Mica’s gaze floats down too. “Nothing after two hours? Um.”

  “Hey, you guys have watched TV, danced, had a popcorn fight—”

  “—while you decided to not use the desk in your room for homework,” Destiny finishes over Mica’s shoulder.

  This morning, no sign of their sleep-embrace remained in the den, and I almost doubted my own eyes. Until now. “You’re ganging up on me. What’s going on?” I ask.

  “Oh, nuh-huh—never, Wifey!” Mica exclaims, her eyes widening with fake surprise. She leans in and gives me one of the giant bear hugs that conflict with her fragile-looking stature.

  As soon as we returned from the gym, Shannon bee-lined out with Christian. She’s been gone all day, but now she bursts in the door with our favorite bartender right behind her. I swear her eyes glitter. Someone’s had a good date!

  “Kids!” Mica claps her hands and rushes in for a group hug. Christian clearly isn’t aware they’re mandated as far as Mica’s concerned. “Welcome home. I’m glad you brought her back before she turned into a pumpkin.”

  “That’s the carriage, not the princess,” Destiny says.

  “Right. Mice! She could have poofed into a bunch of mice, Christian. Can you imagine?” Mica looks horrified at the prospect, and Shannon giggles like a little girl.

  Once Mica is done with them, Christian smiles politely and accepts a Coke at the breakfast counter. “Homework?” he asks, nodding in the direction of my empty pages.

  “Yeah. I’m off my game today.”

  Always.

  “So, Pan,” Shannon starts. “Christian wants to talk with you about something—someone. I told him you’re with Dominic, but—”

  I gasp. “Am not!”

  Three BFFs stare at me simultaneously.

  “Sure,” Shannon amends. “You’re not ‘going steady’ or anything yet—” She makes air quotes to distance herself from the Stone Age expression.

  “Yet? Shannon, no!”

  “No worries, Pandora.” Christian shrugs at me, slipping into the personable yet businesslike mode of his profession, but Shannon cuts in.

  “Please talk with her, Christian?”

  “Can we go outside?” he asks me.

  I lead him out onto the small, wrought-iron balcony overlooking the street. Shannon stays inside with the others, and I don’t know what to think about this.

  I pop a finger in my mouth and start nibbling while Christian leans over the railing. For a moment, he stares out over the dimly lit shopping street. Then, he cuts to the chase with no introduction.

  “You need to keep off Leon’s radar.”

  “Leon?” I feel my eyebrows shoot up. “All we did was flirt a little bit. I swear, literally for five minutes.”

  Christian turns, his greyish green eyes meeting mine. “He’s curious about you, Pandora. You don’t want that in the first place, but now that it’s happened, you better lie low. I suggest you take a break from Smother.”

  “Yeah, NGH.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Not gonna happen,” I spell out. “Christian, I appreciate your concern, but Smother kicks ass. It’s my new, favorite second home.”

  Christian studies me. “Right. What Shannon told me you’d say. Pandora, just stay away from Leon, okay?”

  “Why? He’s interesting.”

  He glides a hand over the banister. “Leon likes his girls…” Long, strong fingers grip around it as he searches for the right word. “Broken.”

  My mouth drops open with surprise. “You’re insinuating that I’m broken? That’s pretty rude, don’t you think?”

  “No, that came out wrong. I’m saying Leon’s girls end up broken. Most are already broken when he selects them. Others, because of whatever potential he sees in them, he personally breaks.”

  No way. Leon is a mystery to me, but he wouldn’t be hiding that kind of secret. Would he? Goose bumps prickle my neck.

  I can’t not ask: “How does he, um, break them?”

  “Yeah, I’m not sure, but I’ve worked for Leon for years so I’ve been around quite a few of his women. They a
dore him, depend on him, and when he tires of them, shit hits the fan.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Christian shakes his head. “Let’s just say no one goes peacefully.”

  His gaze floats to mine. “I’ll be candid, Pandora: I don’t think you’d fit the bill as ‘broken,’ but you do come off as… untamed. To Leon, that might be a challenge.

  “He spent too much time on you last night,” he continues. “Leon always keeps his girl close, but yesterday he sent his latest squeeze home. Tread carefully around him, okay?”

  Christian seems like a nice guy, and I’m happy for Shannon, but the stuff he says sounds like something straight from a movie. The urge to giggle is overwhelming.

  Either way, I’m not interested in guys at the moment. I can’t even handle my one-nighters with Dominic and concentrate on classes at the same time. I’m freaking daydreaming about him!

  My phone buzzes. It’s a tense, stress-filled sound. Even without individualized ringtones for texts, my instincts have never led me wrong with Mom.

  “Sorry. Gotta take this one so they don’t have a meltdown.”

  “Parents?” Christian retreats on the balcony and twists to smile at me from the door.

  I nod slowly. “Yup.”

  “Hello.” I sound whiny, and Mom doesn’t like the attitude on display. No need to weather her complaints alone, I figure, so I follow Christian to the kitchen where the others wait. I switch to Disney-happy, but Mom only partially buys it.

  As much as I hate school talk from her, I’m relieved to hear her move on to grilling me about classes. Yes, they go well. Sure, teachers are okay.

  Mica builds a big ol’ sandwich, and my stomach rumbles at the sight. She smirks when she hears me answer Mom’s question about new friends from my classes. It’s like I’m in first grade.

  “Tell her you’ve had a new pal sleeping over already.” Mica bats her lashes.

  “Shut. Up,” I mouth back, and she laughs heartily.

  “Is that Mica?” Mom asks.

  “Mmyeah. She’s being silly again.” Mom’s soft spot for Mica makes no sense, since most of the trouble I got into in high school had Mica’s fingerprints on it.

 

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