“All right, hopefully your stuff is going to fit in here or you’ll just have to crash at my place,” Brad said.
Mac held up the tiny, spiky hedgehog that I didn’t want as our third roommate. “Heath can just stay with you if we need more room.”
Brad jumped back, holding his arms up in the air and practically falling onto the sofa. “I said Darcy not spiky Satan.”
“He’s not Satan.” Mac cradled the little thing in her hands and ran her fingers along his quills. “You’re just jealous because he’ll get to see Darcy naked more than you ever will.”
Brad opened his mouth to say something but I stepped in between them. I didn’t need any more sexual innuendoes from him or Mac’s comments about our sex life. My head was pounding and I just wanted to get the day over with. “Okay, okay. Let’s just get to my ex’s and get this shit over with.”
* * * * *
We piled back in the truck and of course I had to sit in the middle again. I think Brad enjoyed having the gear shift between my legs. I’d say it bothered me, but the truth was, every time his fingers grazed my inner thigh when he went to change gears, it sent a tingle of electricity straight through me.
Guys usually didn’t have that effect on me, especially not guys like Brad who were covered in tattoos and worked at a pizza place. I usually went for the douchebags with daddy’s money and too much damn time on their hands. Which was how I ended up with Dylan in the first place.
“Shit, is this a frat house?” Mac stared at the two-story brick structure with large, red Alpha Mu letters hanging just above the second floor balcony.
“Yeah, it is.” I sighed, staring at the front lawn that was littered with red cups. I wondered if anyone would even be up and if I could possibly just sneak in and out.
Mac turned sharply toward me, her blonde hair whipping me in the face. “You live in a fucking frat house?”
“Lived. And technically it was more of an arrangement that I just slept there and never had to leave or pay rent as long as I helped clean up.” I internally shuddered, thinking of all of the shit I’d seen in their bathrooms.
Brad pulled to a stop in front of the house and parked his truck. “This is going to be interesting.” He opened the door and stepped out, holding his hand out to help me out.
“Tell me about it,” I muttered.
He closed the door behind me, and his other hand stayed clasped on mine. Mac walked around to the other side of the truck. “Are you two holding hands? What the hell happened last night between you two? Don’t tell me this is a thing now.”
I quickly let go of Brad’s hand, but mine felt empty. Like a part of it was now missing. Like I was supposed to be holding his. I wasn’t about to show it, though. “No, he was just helping me out of the truck. Chill out, crazy girl.”
Mac rolled her eyes. “Whatever. Let’s just get this shit over with.”
“You know, you guys can probably just stay out here. I don’t have that much stuff and I can pack it up pretty quickly,” I said, nervously looking around. I didn’t need to be judged any more than I probably already was.
Brad shrugged. “Fine with me. I wasn’t exactly looking forward to going into a frat house anyway.”
Mac shook her head. “I’ll come in to make sure you don’t get sucked back into the frat brothel.”
“Fine,” I muttered. “Just follow me and try not to step in anything.”
I led the way down the cracked side walk toward the front porch. Some random chick was passed out on one of the couches on the lawn, her red cup still in her hand. I stared at the front door with the big brass door knocker and sucked in a deep breath. They never locked it and hopefully this wouldn’t be a first time.
I slowly turned the knob and pushed the door open. If I thought outside looked like shit, the common room was even worse. There were cups, random bodily fluids, and pieces of clothing thrown around like landmines all over the wooden floor.
“My room is at the top of the stairs to the left. I shouldn’t take too long.”
I turned to see that Mac wasn’t even looking at me but staring at a dude passed out on the pool table. “That’s cool, I’ll just see if cue ball here will wake up and get me a beer.”
“Be nice.”
Mac dodged a red bra hanging from a doorway and a few more solo cups littering the floor. “I’m always nice, sweetie.”
“Just because you say ‘sweetie’ at the end of everything, doesn’t mean it’s nice.”
She smiled and kept walking toward the pool table. “Whatever you say, sweetie.”
I shook my head. Whatever, I had to just get my shit, get out, and pray Dylan wasn’t passed out in his room. If he was, hopefully he wouldn’t wake up when I went in.
I tip-toed up the stairs and stood outside of his door. It was now or never and I had to move on with the next chapter of my life. I had to stop rooming with random dudes and actually do something that didn’t involve using guys for what I needed.
Slowly, I turned the handle, poking my head in and peering around the room. It was exactly as I’d left it the night before with Dylan’s unmade water bed, the walls covered in posters of half-naked women, and of course more landmines of clothes. But there was no sign of Dylan.
I exhaled and pushed the door open the rest of the way. I didn’t know where he was and I didn’t care; I just had to pack my shit up. Not like I had that much anyway. The nicest thing I owned was a Mac book Air. I bought it with the money I earned being a nanny last summer. Those two insanely bratty kids in Roswell were hardly worth it, but the computer was my pride and joy.
I was glad to see that my computer was untouched on the desk and quickly unplugged it and threw it in my purse along with the cord. I found the hiking back pack that I moved in with at the top of his the closet and started shoving in all of my stuff that I could find. I’d only been staying there a few months, in between one of the many times I tried staying with my mom and an ex. They were all starting to blend together. It was definitely time for a change... now I just had to figure out how to afford the apartment with Mac. At least I knew how I could put down the first month’s rent.
Dylan was a first rate asshole. He was the type of guy that to be your friend he made fun of you. The only reason people hung out with him was because he had money. Too much money. I also knew that he always kept a wad of cash hidden in his sock drawer.
Okay, so it wasn’t exactly the noblest thing to do, but I considered it good girlfriend tax. I’d been a great girlfriend. I went to all of his stupid fraternity functions and went down on him way too damn much when he wouldn’t even go near my snatch with his mouth. Hell the only sex we had was when he was drunk, which was 24/7, and it usually lasted less than five minutes and I’d have to finish myself off in the shower.
I reached into his cash drawer and pulled out a wad.
“Hey!”
I jumped and gasped, holding the money to my heart when I spun around to see Mac standing directly behind me. “What the hell do you think you’re doing? I told you to wait downstairs.”
She shrugged. “Cue ball got boring so I thought I’d see what you were doing.” Her eyes widened as she stared at the sock drawer. “Holy fuck that’s a lot of cash. Are you stealing from your ex? What the hell, Darcy?”
I grabbed a handful twenties and slammed the drawer shut. “Yeah, you got a problem with that? We all can’t have jobs that leave us with a ton of extra cash like you keep pulling out.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” She raised an eyebrow.
“All the money you keep throwing around. What are you, like a stripper or something? No one carries that much freaking cash.”
She laughed. “Oh my fucking God, you’re ridiculous.” She shook her head. “I work for a temp agency. I get paid weekly and just cashed my check yesterday and spent the last of it on our apartment so now I’m broke.”
“Oh...maybe I should think about getting a job too,” I mumbled, tucking some of cash into
my purse. The rest was for rent.
“You damn well better. I can’t cover your half of the rent. Maybe B-Rad can get you a job at the pizzeria so he can stare at your ass all day.”
“Will you cut that shit? There’s nothing going on between us. He’s just flirting because I feed into it. If you want him, you can have him.” Even as the words left my mouth I knew I didn’t mean them. If Mac went after Brad or said she wanted him in the least it would probably lead to an all-out girl fight and the end of our friendship.
Mac laughed. “Oh God no. That dude’s a bit of a tool. Who the hell calls themselves B-Rad anyway?”
“Y’all talking about me?” I gasped when Brad appeared in the doorway, his arms crossed over his chest and a large grin on his face.
“So what if we are?” Mac raised an eyebrow, glancing back at him.
“Didn’t I tell you to wait in the car?” I asked again. This was getting ridiculous.
He ignored Mac’s question and focused intently on me. “Y’all were taking too long, so I decided to see if you needed any help.”
“Nope. I’m all packed.” I grabbed my backpack, throwing it over my shoulder. “And I have my rent.” I handed him the stack of twenties.
He didn’t even count them before stuffing the wad of cash in his pocket. “Cool.”
Mac sized up my back pack. “That’s it? That’s all you have? Not even a bed or some kind of furniture?”
I shrugged. “Nope.”
“Then I guess you’re sleeping on the weird apartment couch,” she mused.
“The offer for my place stands.” Brad stepped into the room, his eyes drinking me in. Dammit, I almost wanted to take his offer. At least for an hour or two.
“Back up, Pizza boy. Darcy is mine.” Mac jumped between us.
“Darcy? Fucking Darcy is here?”
Shit. That terrible, drunk Boston accent. Dylan was here and somewhere close by.
He stumbled into the doorway, his Red Socks hat half-cocked and a large amount of stubble on his tan face. I used to find his whole prep school polo shirt and plaid shorts thing kind of adorable, but combine that with a dude that picked his nose and was a very loud drunk and I was over it.
“Hey, Dyl. I just came to get my stuff. I’m leaving now.” I tried to keep my voice as friendly as possible, but it was hard when he was swaying to the side, his eyes roaming between me and my friends.
“What the fuck, Darcy? I didn’t think you were serious about leaving.” He stumbled into the room and stopped not even a foot in front of Brad. “And who is this fucker? Do you already have a new boyfriend? This fucking old ass tattooed douche?”
“Hey, who are you calling old?” Brad cocked an eyebrow.
I didn’t think Brad looked that old. He told us at some point last night that he was twenty-six and I wasn’t about to let Dyl go and fuck things over for me with Mac or Brad for that matter.
“Yeah, he is.” I slid next to Brad and he instinctively put his arm around my waist, pulling me close to him. I fit there perfectly, like that was exactly where I belonged. “Do you have a problem with that?”
“Yeah, yeah I fucking do, Darc. How could you do this to me? You said you loved me!” He plopped down on the bed, staring down at his bare feet. I had no idea where his shoes were and I wasn’t about to ask.
“Are you seriously crying right now?” Mac mocked, staring at the pathetic dude.
He snapped his head up. “No, I’m not fucking crying. I just had to sit down after the realization hit me that my piece of shit ex-girlfriend left me for an even bigger piece of shit.”
I gasped, his words hitting me hard. I knew I wasn’t exactly his speed. True that he came from money and I came from a broke ass single mother, but he didn’t need to say it like that. I never thought he actually thought me so much lower than him.
“I think you’re just pissed off because you probably lost the best thing you ever had,” Brad said. His fingers brushed along my bare skin where my tank top didn’t meet my shorts.
Dylan shook his head. “Whatever, man, I can get plenty of pussy any time. Anywhere.” He turned his attention toward Mac. “How you doin’, Blondie? Wanna take a ride on the Dyl train?
“You wish, douchebag.” She turned toward me. “Come on, sweetie, we don’t need to take his shit. Let’s get out of here and get back to our place.”
I nodded. “Yeah, I’m down with that.”
Brad kept his arm around my waist and I was glad for that, because it kept some space between me and Dylan and kept me upright as we walked toward the door. So much going on in the past twenty-four hours was making my head spin.
“Oh wait, one more thing,” Mac said as we stood in the doorway. “Hey, Dyl-hole!” She yelled.
Dylan looked up. “What the fuck did you just call me?”
She stomped over to the bed, standing directly in front of him. “Next time you try and shit talk my friend, I hope you think about this.”
“Think about what?”
“This.” She cocked her arm back and punched him square in the jaw, knocking him back on the bed. For being a petite thing, the girl was fierce. I stood wide-eyed as she turned toward us with a big smile. “Come on sweetie, let’s get back to our place.”
“Sounds good to me.”
***
Seven
Mac and Darcy’s Apartment
Saturday
12:50 PM
Mac
“B-Rad, stop! I’m trying to hang curtains,” Darcy giggled as B-Rad tickled her again.
“Maybe the two of you should get a room together,” I muttered, grossed out by the sight before me. After spending the whole morning with them, I was definitely tired of their crazy flirting. I didn’t want to witness it anymore. Things were mostly unpacked. It was afternoon and I just couldn’t take it anymore.
Instead of waiting for their responses, I just left the apartment, needing a minute or two, or twenty, alone. I understood their mutual attraction; they were both very attractive people. I just wasn’t ready to deal with seeing anyone happy quite yet. B-Rad, obviously, was moving on from his ex, but I got the feeling his break-up happened a long time ago, where mine was still fresh, the wounds still weeping. And Darcy, though she’d just left her ex, she admitted herself she did that a lot, jumping from guy to guy. Plus, Dyl-hole was a douche, so I would question her sanity if she still had residual feelings for him.
I slammed the door behind me, letting them know how fed up I was with their behavior, or how extremely childish I could be, I wasn’t sure exactly which. I knew the way I acted wasn’t right, but I couldn’t help it. I stomped down the stairs, ever the petulant child, and then out onto the street.
I didn’t want to go far, afraid I would see someone from my old life, the happy, engaged life. I stepped into the pizzeria, grabbing a seat at the bar. The older, shorter man behind the bar with the Uncle Tony nametag had me smiling. He was short and balding and absolutely adorable.
“I’m Mac,” I introduced myself to him. “Your new tenant in the studio upstairs.”
“Ah, yes. Bradley said you and another young woman were moving in. It’s a little small for the two of you, isn’t it?” he asked, bringing me a beer before I could order one.
“Yeah, probably, but the price is right,” I said with a smile. This old balding man was cheering me up already.
“Well then, we’re glad to have you. Bradley is ever-conscious of who we rent to, so if he’s chosen you, you should feel special. He’s very picky,” he explained.
I wanted to tell him that B-Rad was just after a piece of ass, but that was hardly appropriate. Instead, I just nodded.
“I’m off in a few minutes. I can only work a couple hours a day, but Heidi should be here soon. You’re drinking on the house today, since it’s move-in day for you,” he said.
I thanked him profusely, insisting I couldn’t possibly drink on the house, but he was more insistent.
“Please, sir, I’d like to pay,” I said
.
“Call me sir again, and you’ll never drink here again. I’m Uncle Tony,” he said with a nod.
“You’re hardly my uncle,” I argued.
“It doesn’t matter. I’m Uncle Tony to everyone,” he explained.
“Alright, Uncle T. I can get on board with that.”
“I’m off, girl. I’ll see around,” he squeezed my hand and then took off, a decidedly Irish woman taking his place at the bar. He said a few words to her and then he was gone.
She ignored me, moving on to the gentleman at the end of the bar. I drowned myself in my sorrow, reality hitting me about this whole situation.
I barely knew Darcy, and I didn’t know B-Rad at all, which left me feeling unsure about how long all this would even last. Sure, Darcy and I went to high school together, but that was years ago. She could be a drug-addict for all I knew. I doubted it, but still, the truth was: I knew nothing about her. She and I needed to sit down and talk, without B-Rad, about ourselves. The conversation probably should have happened before I agreed to move in with her, but hey, beggars couldn’t be choosers, now could they?
Half an hour later, after I’d down several beers and made friends with Heidi, a feisty redhead with a mouth like a sailor, a man sat down next to me at the empty bar. I was puzzled by it, but managed to ignore him as he chatted with Heidi. She flirted, of course, calling him sugar in that sweet southern drawl.
“I hear you’re moving in upstairs,” the stranger said to me while Heidi occupied herself elsewhere.
“Word gets around fast,” I muttered, wondering how the hell this guy knew me.
“It’s a small town.”
“Right. Six million people is a small town,” I said, rolling my eyes.
He laughed. “You know what I mean. This is one small little corner of the city. Everyone knows Uncle Tony’s Pizzeria, and everyone worries about him. You know, like the fact that two young girls might be taking advantage of his hospitality.”
A Tale of Two Pretties Page 4