Zero F*cks (Violent Circle Book 4)

by S. M. Shade

  We start walking toward the treadmills. “The first time I said it, it just popped out. She gave me an out, asked me if I meant it, and I realized I did. So, I told her so. In that moment, I was terrified she’d say she didn’t feel the same. Or hell, say nothing at all and leave me standing there feeling like an idiot. Longest few seconds of my life.”

  Groaning, I turn on the treadmill and start a slow jog. “You’re not exactly selling me on the idea.”

  “You two spend every spare second together. She looks at you like you invented orgasms. I don’t think you have anything to worry about. But if you’re not sure, there’s no harm in giving it some more time, right? She isn’t going anywhere.”

  He increases his speed to just slightly above mine, and I roll my eyes. “I’m not racing you today. My back is jacked up from work. I’m trying to work out the kinks.”

  He grins at me, bumping up his speed a little more. “Smart move. Last time you ended up wiping out in front of that cute receptionist. What ever happened to her?”

  “You know damned well what happened, asshole.” Running into her at the pharmacy with a bottle of crotch pesticide in my hand is number one on my list of most embarrassing moments.

  Noble grins at me. “See, those crabs were a good thing. If you hadn’t caught them, you might not have been single when you met Becca, the smart assed love of your life.”

  “Fuck off, Noble.”

  “The tattooed girl of your dreams, the only one who makes your heart go pitter pat like a cartoon princess,” he teases.

  “You’re really enjoying this, aren’t you?”

  “I’m pretty amused, yeah. It’s about time another Frat Hell guy got roped in.”

  Increasing the treadmill speed a little, I force myself to pick up the pace. “I think Trey’s days are numbered too. He seems to have a thing for Sasha.”

  “Yeah, I figured that out when I heard them going at it the night of the festival.”

  My jaw falls open as I turn to look at him. “What? That was her?”

  He bumps his speed up to a full out run. “They think they’re sneaking around, but I saw her car leave after. Now, can we stop gossiping like sorority chicks and run?”

  “Probably be best. You’re starting to get flabby with Jani cooking for you all the time.”

  “I figure if Becca can overlook your severe aesthetic deficiency, I’m safe putting on a few pounds.”

  “Bitch, I’m beautiful.” The guy taking the treadmill next to Noble catches my words, gives us a sideways look, then decides to move over a few more treadmills. “Don’t judge our love!” I shout.

  Is there anything more satisfying than embarrassing your best friend?

  I argue with myself for the next week, overthinking the decision whether or not to tell Becca I love her until I’m half insane with the stress of it. School is back in full swing, and Becca and I have fallen into a comfortable schedule. We eat breakfast together before I head to my only class. By the time class lets out, she’s at work, and I either spread my work out on the kitchen table or on the desk in my room. I spend a few hours on either my thesis, coursework, or presentation, then get a few hours of work in at the car wash. Not always in that order, and a few rainy days cut into my wages, but also give me more time for everything else, so I’m not complaining.

  Becca gets home around the same time I do, so we get to have dinner together and hang out awhile before bed. The sex just keeps getting better, even though we’re both exhausted sometimes and opt to just lie together, talking.

  Tonight, the conversation about the future we see for ourselves is the topic. It does worry me a little that we’ll end up with goals that pull us apart after I graduate, when the real world smacks me in the face.

  Becca is working hard to make her dream work, and she’s doing great. I know that I’ve helped her along when it comes to getting new clients, but that’s such a small part of why her shop has become a success. She always had the talent and drive to succeed. She just needed a way to get her work out there. Now that people are starting to see it, I can’t imagine she’ll ever be hard up for clients again.

  “What if you don’t get that internship or job you’re hoping for?” she asks, playing with my chest hair. “Do you have other companies in mind?”

  “A couple,” I reply vaguely. Yeah, there are other options, but most are much farther away. I wouldn’t mind moving to Paducah since it’s only about thirty minutes away and I know it wouldn’t put Becca too far from her shop, but all the others are probably a deal breaker. I can’t expect her to move her business just when it’s become so popular.

  I’ve been trying not to worry about that. Sometimes, you just have to trust things to work out because stressing over them does no good. In my head, I’m going to get this internship, impress the hell out of them, graduate, and they’ll offer me the full-time position. Becca and I will be able to afford a little rental house if we save for a bit.

  Raising up on her elbow, she smiles down at me. “You’ll get it. Don’t let this go to your head, but you’re kind of awesome at what you do.”

  “Oh my god. Was that a compliment?” I run my fingers up her side, and she giggles, pulling away.

  “Just don’t tell anyone.”

  “Don’t worry. Everyone already knows I’m awesome. How is the new artist working out?”

  “He’s already building quite a client base. His work is amazing. The way he blends the Korean style of fine line tattoos with the soft hue watercolor washes is phenomenal. I’ve had a design in mind for a few years that I want on my hip. A dandelion. I think he could make it look fluffy the way I picture it.”

  Rolling over on top of her, I pin her hands above her head and gaze into her eyes. “Hip, huh? As in you’d have to take your pants off?”

  She smirks. “It’s pretty hard to tattoo through cloth.”

  Sliding down her body, I run my lips down her belly to her hipbone. “Here?” I murmur, giving it a licking kiss.

  “Mmm-hmm.”

  “Can he do it blindfolded?”

  “I’m going to say, no,” she chuckles, running a hand through my hair. “You aren’t going to get all cave man and jealous are you? Because I look at people’s bodies all day while I’m inking them, and trust me, there’s nothing erotic about it. It’s about the art.”

  “I have an idea.” I deliver another kiss just under the waistband of her panties, pulling them down a couple inches. “You can get a property of Denton tattoo right here.”

  Laughter shakes her body. “No way. Rule number one of tattoos. No lover’s names. That never turns out well.”

  A knock on the bedroom door makes us both groan. “Hey!” Trey calls. “There’s a tow truck out here for your car, Becca!”

  “Shit. I forgot they were coming today.”

  “Did you junk it?” I ask, as we both dress quickly.

  “Nah, I donated it to the local children’s hospital. They sell them for scrap and use the money.”

  She rushes out to sign the paperwork, then flops onto the couch and scrolls through her phone. “I actually think I have enough for a down payment on a new car. Well, new to me, anyway. I might start looking this week.”

  I lean over her, caging her in on the couch, and her pupils dilate as she looks up at me. “Have I mentioned how fucking proud of you I am?”

  A blush rushes over her cheeks. Her palm is soft against my jaw when she touches my face. “I couldn’t have done it without you.”

  “Ugh, you two are sickening,” Trey groans. The bastard sure knows how to ruin a moment.

  Flipping off Trey, she presses a soft kiss to my lips. “I’ll be off a little early tonight. What time does your shift end?”

  “Eight. Are you going to be waiting naked in bed?”

  She taps her lip with her pointer finger. “I don’t know. Should I wear the dino suit?”

  “Nope. Your birthday suit will be just fine.”

  Rolling her eyes at me, she can’t hel
p but laugh, and at that moment, I make the decision. Tonight, I’m telling her I love her.

  Because she loves me, too.

  I barely have one foot out of the car when Neal calls my name and jogs over. I was surprised to see a line of cars stretching down the street waiting for a car wash today. I guess I should’ve expected it. This is the first time we’ve had a week with no rain predicted. Everyone has been waiting.

  “Where do you want me?” I ask.

  “Cover for Miguel’s lunch break on windows, then on the sprayer.”

  “No problem!” Nodding, he heads back out front where he helps dry and inspect the work before handing the keys back to the owners.

  I hate getting stuck on windows. Seriously loathe it. When the car rolls off the tracks after being washed, one person jumps in the driver seat, and another in the back. The person in the back sprays the back windows with this aerosol foaming cleanser. It’s amazing stuff that takes off anything and doesn’t streak even when wiped off with a towel, but it’s also thirty seconds of inhaling the stuff while the driver pulls the car out front. After it’s parked, we can open the doors while we finish all the windows, wipe off the dash and cupholders, and generally try to make it look like new. There’s nothing like that rush of fresh air after the taste of cleanser mixed with air freshener.

  I’m glad I only have to do it for half an hour to cover a break. The other positions I don’t mind. Vacuuming takes its toll on my back after a few hours and wiping down after everything is done can be annoying because the customers like to hover and point out if you miss a spot, but it’s nothing compared to the torture of windows.

  Miguel grins at me as I approach with a can of spray and towel in my hand. He doesn’t speak any English, so after I say, “You can go to lunch.” I mime eating. He gives me a thumbs up and steps away, giving me room to jump in the car that’s just rolled off the track.

  Damn it all. Water squishes up between my legs from the seat and soaks through the ass of my shorts. It’s then I notice the passenger side window is almost all the way down. Neal is going to be livid. It’s not the first time I’ve seen this happen. The sprayer is the one responsible for making sure all the windows are up before he hits the button to send it through. Whoever is spraying is in trouble.

  Greg curses as he climbs into the back seat to do the windows. “Yeah, my ass is soaked,” I gripe. “Who is on sprayer?”

  “New guy Neal just hired, Ted. I swear, he’s stoned all the time. He won’t last.”

  No, Neal runs a pretty tight ship, and while he’s willing to give people a chance when most places won’t, he’s quick to take it away if you endanger his business. As soon as I park, I wave at Neal, and he jogs over. “Sent through with a window down. The whole inside is soaked.”

  His lips press together, and he nods. “Go ahead and clean the inside, then park it in the extra bay. I’ll get a shop vac and try to suck out some of the water. It’s a dealership car, so they won’t mind if we hang onto it a few hours to dry it out.”

  He glances around the lot. “I’m going to send Ted—who doesn’t know how to roll up a fucking window—inside, so take over spraying.”

  “On it.” I’m going to spend the rest of the day with a soggy ass, but at least I’m not breathing fumes anymore.

  Ted spots me parking the car in the bay and gives me a wave as I approach. “Neal wants to talk to you! I’ll take over,” I tell him.

  I’ve seen people described as having a blank look before, but I swear, it’s the only expression this guy has. It’s like someone drew a face on a balloon. I mean, I get high too, but there’s a limit. His brain finally catches up, and he nods, hanging up the sprayer, and sauntering away.

  The rest of the day isn’t too bad, even though it’s non-stop. One thing I like about this job is that I don’t have to deal with customers, but I still get to people watch, and in our area, we get some interesting ones.

  The ones approaching me now have that cousband and wife appearance, and as soon as he speaks, I’m doubly convinced their gene pool could use some diluting. He spends five minutes arguing with me because he wants me to spray the bottom of his car. No amount of talking I do can convince him that I can’t reach the underside of his car. It’s not like I can put it on a lift, for fuck’s sake. Finally, I call Neal over to deal with them.

  When we finally hit a lull, I stand back and guzzle a sports drink, and Neal walks up to talk to me. “Did you scrub the underside of his car?” I tease.

  “Nothing like being yelled at by a man who is kin to himself. Is everything running okay out here?”

  “Yep, no problems.”

  “Since we’ve been so busy, I’m going to order lunch for everyone. Would you mind running to Carl’s Diner to pick it up?”

  This is why Neal is a good boss. He knows his employees work hard and when it’s been a difficult day, he’ll do something small to reward them. “I’ll go.”

  “Hey,” he calls as I turn to walk away. “How are things going with Becca?”

  “I’m hitting her with those three little words tonight. So, I might need a place to stay.”

  Laughing, he waves me away.

  It’s just past eight when I get home, and I head right for the shower. I want to be ready for Becca when she gets home because if everything goes to plan, I’m going to tell her I love her, then prove it all night long.

  When I pull off my clothes, cold fear shoots through me. What the fuck is that? A bright red rash covers the inside of my thighs and my balls. When I turn to look in the mirror, I see it’s also on my ass, especially between my cheeks.

  Oh my god. I’ve got an STD. And it’s worse than crabs.

  And I’ve probably given it to Becca.

  My first thought is to find the nearest bridge and throw myself off of it. I must’ve been making some noise in my full freak out mode because Trey taps on the bathroom door. “Dude, are you okay?”

  “Yes!” I shout. My first instinct is to hide this until my death from that bridge.

  “Uh, yelling ‘oh god, please not again’ doesn’t sound like you’re okay.”

  Fuck. I have to tell someone. I need to go to a doctor or something. “Just get in here and close the door!” I shout, wrapping a towel around me.

  Trey steps in with a cautious expression.

  “Is Becca home?”

  “No, what’s going on? If it’s a tick, I’m not removing it.”

  “I don’t know what it is.” My voice has dropped to a horrified whisper. Heat blazes through my face as I pull the towel off to show him.

  A second of silence is followed by uproarious laughter. Trey’s whole body shakes, and he grabs the sink, bending over slightly. What the hell?

  “It isn’t funny! What if someone gave me herpes or warts or some shit? Look at me!” I turn so he can see it covers my ass as well.

  That only makes him laugh harder, and he holds up a finger, telling me to hang on a moment, before walking out of the room. A second later, he returns with a white tube and hands it to me, trying to choke out words between his laughter.

  “Use this, you idiot. It’s just a chafing rash.”

  “What’s a chafing rash?” My heart is starting to slow a little at his response. Maybe I don’t have to swan dive into the river after all.

  “If you get sweaty or wet, you can break out where the skin rubs together. Happens to me in the summer sometimes.” He chuckles as his gaze runs over me. “Not usually to that extent though.”

  “I worked in wet shorts all day.”

  “That’ll do it.”

  I take the tube and raise my eyebrows at him. “This is diaper rash ointment.”

  “Yeah, which is pretty much what you’ve got. Trust me, put it on thick and it’ll be better in a day or two.”

  “Thanks.” I breathe a sigh of relief, then look up at him. “Any chance you’ll keep this to yourself?”

  “Do I look like the kind of person who gossips?” he says, laying a hand on hi
s heart.

  Fuck.

  Still laughing, he steps out and shuts the door behind him. I take a quick shower, then coat all the affected areas in ointment. Oh my god, this stuff is strong. There’s no way Becca won’t smell it. It’s so thick and oily I can’t even get all of it off of my hands until I use dishwashing liquid.

  Hoping for the best, I put on a thin pair of pajama bottoms, though even the touch of them against my skin stings like crazy.

  Trey threw some meat and vegetables in the slow cooker this morning, so the kitchen smells great when I wander in, trying not to walk funny. Becca breezes in, dropping a kiss on my lips, and I spoon us each out a bowl of the beef stew.

  “How was your day?” I ask.

  “Pretty good. I rescheduled my appointments for tomorrow. Cramps are killing me, and they only get worse when they start like this. Elijah and Sasha have it covered, though.”

  It’s clear she doesn’t feel good since she picks at her food and only takes a few bites before tossing the rest. “Do you need anything?” I ask. Please, I pray to the gods of burning testicles and ass cheeks, please let her say no.

  “Nah, I took some painkillers. I just want to curl up and watch TV.”

  “Sounds like a plan.” She gives me a small grin, and I kiss her forehead before she heads off to shower.

  Okay, this could work. We’ll just hang out on the couch and watch a movie. Then go to bed. By morning, I’ll probably be a lot better. At least I don’t have to work tomorrow. I just have to go to class in the morning.

  By the time she emerges from the shower, smelling like vanilla body wash, I’m lounging on the couch with Netflix already signed in. I’ve grabbed us both a bottle of water and brought her the throw blanket she loves. I’m prepared to not leave this spot for a couple of hours.

  “It’s your turn to pick the movie,” I say, putting my arm around her when she sits next to me.

  She flips through the movies awhile before choosing something, and we cuddle up together. A few minutes later, Trey wanders in and flops into the recliner. “What are we watching?”

  “Easy A,” Becca replies.