by Anna Rezes
He’s not the only one who heard Ashley. We’re getting side glances from shoppers, but that’s what it’s like working with Ashley. I never know what will come out of her mouth. She’s a constant in that way, always saying whatever she’s thinking. Even as I glare at her, I love that there is no pretense. She keeps it real, even if it makes me uncomfortable.
Ashley sighs, “You can have Patrick and Ben, but the next one is mine, okay?”
I make the promise, as another customer moves toward my counter.
“He’d better be hot!” Ashley picks at her nails while I continue working.
In the evening when Ben picks me up from work, Ashley insists on him coming inside. She skips over to give him a hug. A hug! I figure it’s an excuse to feel him up, but then I hear her whisper, “I don’t care how sexy you are. If you don’t take care of my girl, I’ll hunt you down.” Ashley is a lot of things, but protective is not something I pegged her for.
Ashley locks the door after Ben enters. A customer approaches, but Ashley shrugs unsympathetically and turns away. Locking up a few minutes early is standard Ashley. She’s not an ideal employee, but she knows her daddy will never fire her.
She saunters toward Ben with pouted lips. “Ben, do you have any single friends?”
“None good enough for you.”
Ashley flips her hair and mumbles under her breath, “I hate you, Emily. You’re a selfish bitch.”
A tender grin plays on Ben’s lips as his soft brown eyes find mine and he reaches for me. My next breath catches in my throat and butterflies dance in my stomach making him hard to resist. As he tucks me into his side, I hesitate to return his affection, feeling inept with Ashley’s eyes on us.
Ashley lets out a snort. “Good God, Emily! Just kiss him!”
I must look as inept as I feel. I panic, pulling away from Ben to meander toward the exit. “We should go,” I say.
I try to ignore Ashley’s comment, but it becomes an echo in my ear, her laughter rings over and over in my mind. Oh God! What am I doing? She would know what to do with Ben. She would know how to kiss him—how to be half of a couple. She would know how to react to his touch like a woman should, and she wouldn’t have to remind herself not to read his thoughts. Ashley would be a better option for him for so many obvious reasons.
Before my self-loathing becomes all-consuming, I reach the exit. As I unlock the door, Molly’s voice rings through my thoughts. “I’m tired of watching you torture him.”
I flip the lock, throw open the door, and head for the Corvette. I hate depending on someone else for a ride, and I hate having this reaction to such a small incident. After spending years in classrooms being analyzed and judged for every move I made, I thought I had a thicker hide, a stronger spine, an impenetrable forcefield between myself and everyone else. This is more than a leak in the roof of my defense. It’s a fundamental problem because somewhere along the way I let down my protective walls and left myself vulnerable.
Ben doesn’t speak, but I hear his footsteps following me. When I reach for the car door his hand lands on my shoulder. He pivots me around to face him. My first instinct is to fight, my true nature coming out in spades.
“I can’t do this! I can’t be your girlfriend!”
He spreads his feet, folds his arms, and settles in for my explanation.
“It’s been all of what? Five days? Five days and I’m turning into this over-dramatic psycho. This person isn’t me! I can’t be what you want and for God’s sake Ben, you deserve better. So much better! Molly’s right. I’m not saying this to throw myself some kind of pity—what are you doing?”
His face is intense as he steps forward, closing the distance between us. I inch away until my back is against his car. He continues forward unfolding his tightly muscled arms and moving until his broad shoulders and chest are all I see. Still, he advances, pressing his weight into me. I feel myself warm from more than just the heat of his body. I lift my chin and search his face.
His lips press firmly into mine the second my chin ascends, disintegrating any hope of escape. He deepens the kiss as his arms wrap behind my back molding me to him. His tongue forces its way into my mouth, and I forget I shouldn’t let it. He kisses me until I forget I’m upset, until I forget that my guard—which is imperative to my very survival—is crumbling. He kisses me until I forget I am supposed to be standing my ground. As my fingers claw into his back begging for more, I’m vaguely aware I’m standing at all.
I’m not sure when I wrapped my arms around him or when I molded my body to his, but I know I don’t want to let go. He takes a step back, leaving his arms around me, so my quaking legs have time to recover. His gaze locks on my half-lidded eyes, and I try to straighten from my sated stupor feeling only a mild annoyance in the place of what would usually be a desperate need to escape. Before I get a chance to pull myself together, his fingers wrap around my arms, and his words begin.
“Don’t for one damn second think you know better than I do, what I want. This doesn’t have to be complicated. I know who I’m with, Emily. I know who you are and being together doesn’t mean I expect you to become a different person. I love who you are. Get out of your head and stop thinking so much. You get that crazy look in your eye, and then you take off as if you can run away from everything that scares you. I’m done letting you run from me.”
Speechless, all the words just . . . Poof.
“You got that?” he asks.
I nod as his hand caresses my jaw, tilting my face up to his. “Good,” he whispers against my mouth. His perfect lips stroke mine until I’m pacified and lightheaded.
Ben sighs, stepping back so he can open the door for me. I’m in a daze as I climb in the car. As I put on my seat belt, I stare out the window. The pet store lights gleam through the floor to ceiling windows and right in the middle—front and center—stands Ashley, gawking at us. Her face is one of total shock and awe. She’s going to stew over this for the next few days and will share her feedback with me on Friday, whether I want it or not.
twenty-two
Thursday morning I’m brooding. I sent Ben away after he brought me home last night because I couldn’t trust myself. I tried to break up with him, but instead, I fell deeper into our relationship. It’s as if he reached directly into my heart and planted himself there in a very permanent way.
And then there is Patrick, who isn’t in my heart, but as I prepare for class this afternoon, he worms his way to the forefront of my mind. Skipping class is tempting, but I don’t want him to think I’m avoiding him. Most importantly, I don’t want him to know he’s gotten so deep under my skin that I’ve spent half the day thinking about him. Therefore, I get ready and head to class.
I take my usual spot in the lecture hall and scope the room, but he is noticeably absent. I don’t detect Patrick’s presence at all as the elderly professor begins his slow step-cane-step hobble up to the podium. I turn in my seat, too curious to care if Patrick sees me looking for him, but he’s nowhere. He didn’t show. My heart races while the professor goes on with his lecture. I’m keenly focused on the lack of Patrick and begin to worry something has happened to him.
As the class comes to a close, I gather my things wondering if maybe he’ll bombard me outside. After all the times I told him to leave me alone, I don’t understand my disappointment at him not being here. I head out into the afternoon sun, feeling chilled by the lack of Patrick.
“Hey!” I feel a hand tap my shoulder from behind.
I spin toward the masculine voice, disappointed to find a dark-eyed stranger smiling at me. He opens his hand between us revealing my phone.
“You left this on your desk.”
“Oh, thank you.”
“No problem, I’d be lost without my phone. I couldn’t let you walk away. Maybe I should’ve put my number in there before giving it back to you.”
“I’m good,” I say, already turning to walk away.
Ben and I run into Alec and his latest squeez
e when we go out for pizza in the evening. Alec isn’t surprised to see Ben and me together, and our reunion isn’t awkward like I was expecting. Ben and I slide into the booth opposite Alec and his beautiful flavor-of-the-week named Reece. Between her long dark hair, flawless mocha skin, and delicately feminine features, she’s a knockout. It’s baffling how Alec continuously has gorgeous women connected to him. It’s not that he isn’t good looking or fun to be around, but there have been sooo many. I wonder how he manages to find them all. Reece seems sweet which means it takes a lot of effort on my part not to tell her to run.
Alec might be cool to hang with, but it never goes deeper for him. I’ve never had any interest in dating him, and he learned this early in our friendship; although, it took him a while to realize I wasn’t playing hard to get. He lost interest soon enough and moved on like he does every other week; hence the beautiful girl plastered to his side with hopes of their future written in her eyes. If only he could focus his time and effort into one woman, he’d be a real catch, but Alec gets bored quickly. So, Reece will probably last a week or two, and sadly by week three, he will have a new piece of arm candy.
Ben takes my hand, and Alec curses under his breath drawing our attention to him. He glances at me before turning his hazel eyes to Ben. “How’d you get through?” Alec asks. “Blow torch?”
He glares at Alec for a moment then glances at Reece before threatening, “You wanna do this here?”
Alec’s eyes narrow, then his expression dissolves. Choosing to let it go, for now, he changes the subject, saying, “We gonna do whiffle ball this weekend?”
“Yeah man, that’d be good.” Ben looks to me. “You work until four on Sunday?” Ben asks.
“Yeah.”
“Four thirty work for you?” he says to Alec.
“Yep.”
“Gavin coming?” Ben asks.
Alec says, “Think so.”
“Good.”
“Good?” I question, thinking in no way is it good. I could avoid him until the day I die. That would be good.
“Yeah, good. The sooner he gets over it, the better,” Ben says.
“Eh,” I mumble.
“He’s a big boy. He’ll get over it.” Alec cuts my protest short. “Heard Fletcher’s back.”
When I nod, he says, “You should invite her.”
Fletcher is Morgan Fletcher. She also turned Alec down, but where he gave up on me, he still pursues her. Morgan doesn’t mind his attention, and she gives it right back. It’s harmless flirtation, but sometimes I wonder if there’s more between them.
“You know she’ll be merciless,” I say, watching a grin spread across his face, showing off his amazing dimples.
“I’d expect nothin’ else from Fletch.”
“She might be working, but if she’s not, you know it’ll be game on,” I warn.
Both he and Ben laugh. Morgan hasn’t met a sport she wasn’t good at and both guys know it. Even though they’re threatened by her, they can’t resist the challenge.
Ben takes me home after we leave the restaurant. I exit the Corvette and wait for Ben to round the car. His arm wraps around my waist and his lips brush against my temple. “You okay with seeing Gavin?” he whispers.
“I will be. I just thought you all hated me until I ran into you on campus that day.”
He cups my cheeks, forcing me to face him. “Gavin needed time to lick his wounds, but none of us ever hated you, Em. You’re the one who avoided us.”
“I know what you and Alec were talking about and if I had to guess, I’d say it was a small ice pick. You chipped away piece by piece.”
He stares at me for a moment, “What?”
“Not a blow torch,” I say, and his eyes go hard. “It’s okay. I know I’m not warm and fuzzy; although, I don’t think I ever actually froze anyone’s balls off like the rumors say.”
He gives a small laugh but turns serious. Still cupping my cheeks, his eyes burn with sincerity. “It wasn’t an ice pick. You know why? Because you’re not an ice queen and because every piece I have, you’ve given to me.”
“I shut people out,” I counter, pulling my face from his hands. “It’s what I know.”
“You’re on fire, and you can’t even see it,” he says, confusing me as he takes a step away.
“What?”
“Emily, I don’t mean to freak you out, but I’ve been trying to get through to you for years without any progress . . . Until last week. You shut down after your mom died and I don’t know what happened while I was gone, but it’s like you woke up out of a deep sleep. You’re different now.” He moves closer, eyes locked on mine. “You’re back.”
He’s digging deeper into my heart, melting my ice fortress into big slushy piles.
“What happened last week?” he asks, shattering my warm thoughts.
I shake my head, pulling away from him, but he pulls me closer and holds tight, saying, “It’s okay. I’ll wait.”
I didn’t want the whole store hearing about the parking lot kiss, so I’m relieved to see that Ashley called off work. Of course, that means I have to work with Eric. He’s an awkward man in his early thirties who has always given me the creeps.
“I worked with Ashley yesterday,” he says, coming up behind me while I’m stocking the shelves in aisle two.
“Yeah,” I acknowledge, as I fill a bin with rawhide bones.
“Yeah,” he says, standing uncomfortably close. So close that I think he will help me lift the heavy bin back into place on the shelf, but instead, he watches me struggle to do it on my own.
When he just stands there staring at me, I ask, “Was she feeling okay yesterday?”
“Yeah, she was fine. You know, apart from being allergic to work.” He laughs at his own joke and moves closer invading my personal space.
I take a step away, pulling down another bin and intentionally place it between us.
“I thought you were a lesbian,” he says.
I pause what I’m doing. “Umm, nope.”
“I thought you were.”
“Okaaay . . .”
“Ashley told me she saw you making out with some high schooler in the parking lot.”
I am going to kill Ashley! “It wasn’t some high school guy. He’s my boyfriend.”
“You shouldn’t settle for little high schoolers.”
“He’s not in high school. We both graduated this year.”
“I wish I would’ve known you weren’t a lesbian.”
And like an idiot, I ask, “Why?”
“If I knew you were batting for my team, I would’ve thrown my name in.”
His words make me shiver, and I want to laugh with disgust, but I keep my face neutral as I reply, “I’m only eighteen.”
“So it’d be legal!”
My skin crawls. Even if he wasn’t fifteen years older than me, there is no way it would ever happen, so I reply, “I have a boyfriend.”
“I’m throwing my name in anyway,” he says like it’s a threat to Ben. He waits with anticipation, but I ignore him, and eventually, he gives up and walks away.
I’m standing in the middle of a bright white room. I try to walk for the door, but the closer I get, the farther away the door becomes and the more desperate I am to get out. I yell for help, but dark robed figures appear, reminding me of the grim reaper. Fear propels me forward and I run for the door. Grabbing the handle, I shove my weight into it and the door flies open. As I stumble through, I find myself standing in my bedroom. Maggie growls at me, drawing my attention to the bed, and I see myself lying asleep. A woman hovers over me, watching me doze. Her milky blue eyes pivot to me in the doorway. Her wild blond hair is streaked with white and snow boots peek out from underneath her silky white robe.
Her eyes become crystal blue as they focus on me. She lifts her hand, reaching out as she steps toward me. “You were bred to be orphaned, pursued but not found.” She walks closer. “A victim, a killer, an innocent one.”
Just before sh
e touches me, I wake, sitting straight up in bed to find Maggie growling protectively at my feet. I look around the room, seeing nothing out of the ordinary. Maggie, done growling, climbs up on the bed to snuggle next to me.
twenty-three
Sunday morning Dad surprises me with a new silver Honda Civic. I have trouble accepting such a generous gift, but I love the car. I drive myself to work, enjoying the freedom of having my own vehicle again. I crank the air conditioning and blast the radio. The new car feels sleek and fancy after driving around in my old beater for so long.
A thunderstorm pops up out of nowhere around three o’clock. The clouds roll in swiftly, but once they come, they decide to stick around. At four o’clock it continues to pour buckets, effectively ruining our plans for whiffle ball. The boys decide it’s a garage kind of day. While they work on all that manly stuff, Morgan and I make plans for dinner. Ben tells me he’ll meet up with us at the restaurant later.
Morgan puts on a happy face as she meets me at the door to the Italian restaurant, but I can tell something’s wrong. After the hostess shows us back to a booth, I can no longer hold my tongue. “Morgan, what’s going on?”
Her forehead creases and she shields her mouth with a hand as she closes her eyes. She’s trying desperately to keep it together, but she’s falling apart at the seams.
“What’s wrong?” I whisper as tears trickle down her face.
“I’m sorry.” She wipes away the tears as they fall, looking embarrassed, and struggling to compose herself. She’s trying to explain what’s going on, but her shaking lips won’t allow it. She moans, rests her head on the table, and begins to weep. I move onto the bench next to her, and my hand circles her back in hopes of soothing her suffering.
“I promised myself I wouldn’t cry tonight.” She sits up, wipes away a tear, and rolls her eyes. “So much for that.”
“Happens to the best of us.”
“No, it doesn’t. I’ve never seen you with as much as a tear in your eye.”