ENEMIES

Home > Fiction > ENEMIES > Page 23
ENEMIES Page 23

by Tijan


  “We both agreed not to fuck someone else if we’re fucking each other. I like fucking you. Why stop that?”

  “Because.”

  Stellar defense here, Dusty. Freaking stellar.

  He cocked an eyebrow up, picking up his coffee. “Because?”

  “Because I’m a girl. We feel things eventually.” I dipped my head. “And I’m getting better.”

  A conflicted emotion passed over his face, tightening the lines around his mouth before smoothing back out. He put his coffee back down. “Better how?”

  “I’m dealing. I’m not having meltdowns.”

  “You had one four days ago.”

  “And that’s my point. I’m better, because of you.”

  His eyes narrowed again, and he cocked his head sideways. “Why change that? Because you’re worried you might start feeling something?” He shrugged, grabbing his coffee once more. “Let’s end this when that happens.”

  “It’s happening.” His eyes lifted back to mine. I added, “Last night. This morning.” I turned away, feeling like I was exposing more of myself to him. “It’s happening.”

  I waited.

  It didn’t matter. Whatever he said, how long he took to say anything, that didn’t matter. That’s what I was telling myself.

  A second passed.

  Five seconds.

  I stopped counting after fifteen seconds.

  I was holding my breath.

  A chair scraped against the floor.

  Looking, he was walking away. His coffee, his green juice, was left behind.

  Well.

  That was a nice punch to my face. It shouldn’t have been. This was why I said something. He was being smart. I was being smart.

  Still. It hurt. It couldn’t hurt worse than that, right?

  He came back into the room, not looking at me, but turned halfway to me. His head was down. He was holding his phone, and he asked, “You need a ride back and forth from campus?”

  See. My chest squeezed. He was making sure I was okay even after he was kicking me out.

  “No. The house is a few blocks from campus. I can walk or get a ride with one of my housemates.”

  He looked up, his entire face guarded. Nothing shone through. “Get a ride.” He left again.

  “Okay.” God. That hurt to say. My throat was burning.

  This was the right thing to do. Right? Then why did I feel so stupid? So foolish? But no. We said no relationship. I knew guys. They could compartmentalize better than I could, or some could. No. Stone could. He didn’t have those feelings for me. He liked me in bed. He cared about me outside of it, but he was a rising professional athlete. No way would he want to be tied down in a relationship, and I wasn’t ready for that either. What I went through, what I was handling now, a relationship was the last thing for me. Jared. Me. School. Those were my priorities. I bring a guy in, and if that guy was Stone, he’d become everything I would lean on. I wouldn’t do any growing on my own. This hurt. All of it, but I needed it.

  Stone saw that, or he would’ve fought me on this.

  He would… Wouldn’t he?

  No. He would. I might’ve been seeing the nicer side of him lately, but I knew the asshole side of him, too. A total prick. A complete dick. I felt like saying stick just so I rhymed here, but he didn’t have a stick. He had a weapon. He had…okay, not helping.

  I let out a shuddering breath.

  Jesus. This was hurting.

  He came back into the kitchen, dressed to go to the stadium. He’d told me he had meetings already, getting ready for their next game. They didn’t get the half-rest day because of Monday Night Football.

  Good Lord, the way he filled out his shirt, how the jeans molded to his legs, how I knew how powerful those legs could be, especially when he was thrusting inside of you…yeah, again, really not helping.

  He went past me, grabbing his wallet, his keys. He was putting his phone in his pocket. He went to the door, but paused.

  I was waiting. He would open the door in two seconds. He didn’t, and then he spoke, “I get why you’re stopping this. I know you’re doing it for you in the long-run, but I also know you’re half doing it for me.” A pause. I didn’t look back. I remained standing on the other side of that counter, my back now turned to him. “Thank you.”

  Confirmation.

  Right there. He knew he didn’t want a serious relationship. That’s what I would’ve needed in my state. We were stopping before we even started.

  It was better this way.

  I was telling myself that as he shut the door behind him, as he drove out, as I heard the gate shutting behind his car.

  I was lying to myself.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  The first week sucked.

  My housemates thought I was an idiot, and that was putting it nicely. I worried Mia and Lisa would go back to being bitches to me, but they didn’t. They weren’t friendly. They were just stagnant, if that was the best way to describe them? Savannah seemed quiet, but that was normal for her. Nicole and I spent more time together, actually building a friendship.

  We met for lunch on Thursday, and that began our tradition going into my second week.

  Siobhan and Trent, they were a mixed bag. Siobhan had moved, so she was sitting on the opposite side of the room as me. I didn’t know why. I’d not been fully forthcoming about everything in my life, but welcome to my life. I wasn’t forthcoming with anyone, even myself. We’d just started becoming friends. I owed her nothing, really.

  As for Trent, he looked at me sometimes. There was the occasional wave, but only when he checked to make sure Siobhan was out of the room, so it was just before she came in or right after she left that he’d glance my way.

  Three weeks after the video from outside the library had been posted, I was still getting the occasional ‘whassup?’ or ‘Yo! How’s the Rampage doing?’ Or the pick-up lines. If Stone Reeves banged me, then I must be quality pussy, one guy actually told me that. Stone had been pictured with a few other girls in the weeks since I left. I knew because I got asked every other day ‘what’s up with that? You two not boning anymore?’

  It was real fun.

  But there were good parts. Jared.

  I still didn’t have a car, couldn’t afford to buy one, so I used most of what I had in my emergency fund to fly up and see Jared. I’d gone twice, the second time, I’d gone up on the bus. It took longer, but both had been worth it. I’d gone to his own football game, and Georgia confided after they came to see Stone that Jared begged his coach to switch him to wide receiver.

  She didn’t ask how Stone was, and I was grateful. I think maybe she’d known not to ask, but I wasn’t going to ask about that either. We were both in a no-asking zone, and it suited me just fine.

  And now I was standing in the Quail while Joe was looking at me like I was trying to convince him I came from Mars.

  “You’re shitting me.” He was sitting back in his chair, a leg up and his ankle resting over his other knee. His hands were clasped together.

  I shook my head. “Nope. I need the money.”

  “You’re coming back now for the job I gave you before your coma and your parents died?”

  I gritted my teeth. “Stone didn’t have any right to tell you that, but yes. I am. I need money,” I said it again. It needed to be said, because I NEEDED money! Like, yesterday. “I used up my funds to go see my brother. I’m still trying to go to college, and no, I don’t talk to Stone anymore, so he can’t help me. Not that he should’ve before.”

  Joe stared at me. Long. Hard.

  Cursing, he sat forward, picked up a pen and pointed outside the hallway behind me with it. “Every guy who works here knows Stone. They either love him or hate him. Sports is on the television all the time. The clip of you in Reeves’ arms after his one game, that was everywhere. Along with that video in the parking lot. Girls don’t know shit. You won’t have problems with any of them, unless it’s an obsessive fan, but those don’t com
e in here. Your problem is going to be the guys. They’ll want to talk to you about him. They’ll want to be the next him. You’ll be hit on almost from the time you walk in here to when you leave, and you’re going to have to be escorted to your vehicle by security because you’ll have guys following you, propositioning you.”

  Was now the time to tell him I’d be walking back and forth from work? I was taking that as a no.

  “You’re not telling me anything I don’t know. I get the comments just walking around campus.”

  “They’ll be worse here.”

  My gut knotted up. “I need the money.”

  Another long stare, another low curse, and he threw the pen at the corner of his office. His hands threaded together and he placed them behind his head. “This is not a good idea.” He squinted at me, turning his head to the side, his eyes taking on a more assessing look. “Can you change your hair?”

  I reached back, grabbing my braid.

  I’d never dyed my hair. Trimmed it. Permed it once, but never messed with the colors. It was a honey-blonde color, and in the summer I usually got almost white streaks.

  “This?”

  He nodded. “Yep.”

  “You want me to change my hair color?”

  Another nod. “Yep.”

  I was thinking. I was wondering.

  What color would even work?

  “You want me to darken it?”

  He shrugged. “I don’t give a fuck. You can make it rainbow color for all I care.” He frowned. “Second thought, might not be a bad idea. The guys wouldn’t recognize you for sure then.” He clapped his hands together, grinning. He leaned forward in his chair, about to get up. “It’s decided. Rainbow hair. You won’t get harassed every night you work, and I got a server who can do her job without being harassed every night she works. Win-win.”

  Except I didn’t want rainbow hair.

  “Um. Okay. I’ll see what I can do.”

  Rainbow hair. I could do it. I was trying to convince myself as I followed him through the rest of the Quail. We were between lunch and before the afternoon early-dinner rush would start in, but I was getting looks. I was getting a lot of looks. Joe was showing me the ropes, where to check in, where to grab my apron and ordering pad. He gave me a menu to take home and memorize, and after my brief orientation, two guys were waiting for me at the door.

  Joe saw them, sighing. “It’s already starting.” He hollered, waving, “Mikey.” He motioned at them.

  Mikey must’ve been appraised because he was there and moving them along by the time Joe walked me out the back door. “You ready for this?”

  “Yeah.”

  I had no option. I had to be ready for it.

  He stared at me, another shake of his head that I was starting to learn was just a ‘Joe’ thing. “Okay. I’ll have you train with one of my girls tomorrow night, Cammie, but after that, you’re on your own. Sink or swim. If you don’t swim, you gotta get cut by this weekend.”

  “I won’t sink. I promise.” Again. I couldn’t. He was underestimating how dire my bank account was. Stone and his dad helped pay for a few things, but they didn’t put money in my account. They just took what would’ve been added debt spread out over the years, which I was now super grateful for, but my present situation was dire.

  “Okay. Tomorrow. Be here by six sharp.”

  I almost saluted him.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  I told Nicole about the hair, and the entire house got involved. I have no idea how it even started, but she didn’t like rainbow. Dent overheard, asked what was happening, and he wanted pink hair. Wyatt said purple. Noel had no comment. Nacho wanted fire red hair. Mia and Lisa didn’t say anything at first, then commented if I had to change my hair, jet black would be the way to go.

  I hated all the suggestions.

  I didn’t even want to change my hair, but Nicole brought a friend to my room that night. She was a hair stylist and she had a light blue in her hair. I fell in love, or I fell in love with it to be a temporary solution because eventually people would move on about Stone and me. So the next day, Joe didn’t recognize me. I took that as being successful.

  Cammie trained me the first night, but the Quail liked to keep their menu simple. It was relatively easy, just had to make sure to remember all the rules, but no one recognized me. My blue hair had been pulled up in a braid, and by the end of the first night a couple ‘regulars’ as Cammie told me, were already calling me Blue.

  From the job standpoint, the Quail only had a few key drink options for people to order, and the bartenders did the drinks. We could grab a beer or do the tap, but mixed drinks were all the bartenders.

  I was ready to go with doing my own thing my second night, and the tips were nice.

  The main challenge was walking home after the shift, but I’d walked it the day before and found a shortcut that cut through two blocks. It was a middle alley, so I really only had to walk two blocks, and that alley connected to ours, so it was almost two-and-a-half blocks that I shaved off.

  My housemates knew I’d taken a job at the Quail, but none thought about how I got there and back. They knew I didn’t have a car. I didn’t want to rely on anyone for a ride because that wasn’t feasible long-term, but I knew they wouldn’t want me walking that late at night. During the day was a different story, but waiting until after closing, after cleaning after closing, and I knew it’d be around two thirty or maybe some mornings it would inch closer to three in the morning when I’d be walking home.

  I’d worry about that more later. The first night was fine. The second night was fine.

  The third.

  Fourth.

  Because I was working almost every night. I’d asked for the most shifts as possible, and Joe said I was a good worker. See. Hard working and I didn’t complain, I knew he’d be happy that he’d hired me back.

  My big snag happened the following Saturday.

  “I’m what?”

  Joe had called me into his office and he didn’t look up. He pointed to the door. “Jer’s waiting for you out back. We’re doing concessions for the game today or doing one of the concessions. I gotta figure out if I want you in the box or the beer stands.”

  “But why? We don’t do concessions there.”

  He looked up, dropping his pen. His eyebrows were pinched together. “Not that it’s your business, but yeah. I actually run some of the booths over there. But it’s Homecoming today and they asked for us to man a second booth. You and a few of the other girls are going over with Jer. It’s easy work. Go. Have fun. Be a part of the festivities.” He frowned. “Don’t you room with half the football team?”

  I flushed. The group had started to drop in after practices for a burger. Joe took notice, especially when other people came with them. The Quail did fine already, but they’d gotten busier since Wyatt, Noel, Nacho, Dent, and a few of the other guys were becoming regulars.

  “I room with their girlfriends.”

  He snorted, tossing some papers onto his desk and standing up. “Same difference. Think of it this way, now you can say you were there to support them.”

  That wasn’t that bad of an idea.

  “But it also doesn’t matter because I’m the boss. As long as you work here, you’re doing what I say.” He started walking toward me around his desk, shooing me in front of him. “Go, my employee. Go and do my bidding.” He leaned close behind me since I’d turned for the door, and whispered, “Go and do your job!”

  He reached over me, swinging the door wide for me, and he followed me down the hallway.

  I wasn’t sure how I felt about this, but like he said, I didn’t have much choice.

  Cammie saw me coming and flashed me a smile. “Heya. You and me, we’re doing the concession thing together.”

  I relaxed slightly then.

  I liked Cammie. She was one of those types of girls who’s beautiful in a natural way, but not flashy. Mia was flashy. She could’ve been on a runway for Victoria’s
Secret, but Cammie was just as beautiful, just in a more understated way. She was also one of the lead workers for the Quail. Most of the regulars had a crush on her with her caramel-colored curls, freckles, and bright sapphire blue eyes. And I didn’t think they were alone. She had a boyfriend at another college, but I had a feeling the moment she was single, Joe himself would be throwing his hat in the ring. He tended to blush when she was around, and get all grrr if a regular was too touchy-feely with her. The bouncers were protective of her, too. They were protective of all the girls, but it was more with Cammie. She was kinda the Quail’s sweetheart, and when she worked, all eyes were on her, or most eyes, and I liked that. I really liked that. Helped me stay under the radar even with the guys coming to eat here now that I was working here, too.

  “I’m hoping to talk Joe into letting us work the boxes. They tip way better than the beer stand.”

  “That’s where we’d be going?”

  She nodded, helping carry out a few bags to the van. I took one and followed behind.

  She said over her shoulder, “Yeah. All the hoity-toity people are up in the boxes. They give a twenty-dollar tip for us refilling a beer. Such easy money. We’d be lucky to get twenty for the whole night in the beer stand.”

  See. Smart and nice. Not many others would bring me along for that type of job.

  “Thanks, Cammie.” I handed off my bag to Jer, who was waiting by the van.

  He tossed it in, then said to me, “You’re in your blacks tonight.”

  Blacks meant we were wearing the Quail’s more formal uniform. Black skirt. White button-down shirt. They resembled a private school uniform, something I’m sure was the point.

  Cammie heard. “Serious?”

  He nodded. “You ain’t working the beer stands. Joe’s already ahead of you.”

  “Nice!” She held her hand up, giving him a high five and turning to me. A wide smile on her face. “Tips for two weeks here we come.” Her grin turned slightly goofy at me. “And thank God he’s sending you. I don’t think I could do a full night in the box with Moore.”

 

‹ Prev