Glass Houses: A Modern Steamy Alice In Wonderland Fairy Tale (Fairly Twisted Tales Book 3)

by Lux Miller

  I blink at Cat, shaking my head and holding my hands up as I puff out the last of the Orange Cream hookah Cat mixed up for us. “What do you mean? I’m smoking. I’m letting loose, trying to ignore the tambourine that’s fluttering about in my head.”

  Cat crosses her arms over her chest and shakes her head, nodding towards the bathroom. “That’s not what I meant, and you know it.”

  Shrugging my shoulders, I dismiss her concerns like they’re an errant fly at a summer picnic. “Come on Cat, I’m just showing the girl a good time. She could use it.”

  Cat nod solemnly. “Indeed, she could, but I get the feeling that something is not right with this. Like she isn't yours to woo.”

  My expression falters a bit, my mood teetering down a few notches along with it. “Cat, her husband’s a dick.”

  Cat holds up a finger and shakes her head, “But he is her dick. I know you’re a grown man, Storm, but don’t throw away everything you’ve worked for over a girl you can’t have.”

  I grumble, rolling my eyes as I refuse to look at Cat’s face. “I’m not trying to have her. Really, we’re just two people, having a good time… trying to forget the world that likes to fuck us.”

  Cat nods and grabs both of my hands in hers, squeezing them gently. Her expression is loving and it sends a pang of guilt through my body. Cat’s the closest thing to a mother that I remember. My own skipped town before I’d really formed any solid memories of her. They’re few and far between and they’re painful, so I keep them locked away in the darkest recesses of my mind. But Cat… she’s always been the sunshine on my cloudy days.

  She rubs my hands and closes her eyes, murmuring, “I sense that your aura is conflicted, very blue with hints of red. Do not let anger guide your decisions, my boy. Nor can you let sadness decide your future. Only you can do that, but do so carefully. I know you will make your choices, consequences be damned, but know that whichever path you take, there will be consequences. Make sure they’re worth it.”

  She coughs slightly, then jerks her hands from mine. She turns away from me like she didn’t just make things even murkier and goes about her business. I scoot out from the bar and throw a handful of twenties onto the counter, just as Poppy walks back over. She looks relieved as she giggles softly, “My eyeballs were practically swimming! Have you seen the bathroom in this place? It was incredible… I’ve never sat on a couch so plush. And the candles and incense… gah, I could live in a place like this!”

  I chuckle and nod thoughtfully. “Indeed, it would be a reprieve from the bright lights and the clang-a-langing sounds of the casino. But alas, it seems as if neither of us has much control over that aspect of our lives right now.”

  Poppy nods, then frowns when she sees the money on the counter. “Oh, are we leaving? I was just starting to really let loose!”

  I smirk at her and wiggle my eyebrows. “I noticed, but yes, it’s late. I figured your husband is probably passed out by now if you’d like for me to take you home.”

  She chews her bottom lip for a moment, then asks, “And if I don’t want to go home?”

  One shoulder bounces as I reply, “Well, I guess we could stay here a bit longer, but I’m afraid the fun is going to have to come to and end. That…” I motion to the wad of cash on the counter, “...was all the money I had. Cat loves me, but not that much. But I am at your service, ma’am. Tell me where you want to go.”

  Poppy doesn’t even think on that for a minute before she blurts out, “What about your place?”

  I can feel Cat staring at me over Poppy’s head, but I ignore her, keeping my gaze fixed solely on Poppy’s face and her innocent expression. I pat her shoulder gently, then shake my head, “Oh honey, I don’t have a place. I’m never in town long enough to put down any roots. I just breeze through like a hurricane when the mood suits me, then I’m gone again. I mean, yeah, I crash with my Pops sometimes, but his place isn’t suitable for a woman.”

  I glance up to find Cat stil staring at me, but her expression has changed to one that almost looks… amused. I shake off the uncomfortable feeling that grips me for a moment, then look back at Poppy. “Not that I don’t have someplace I’m staying, of course, but it’s just a hotel suite. Nothing fancy. It’s got a bed, a living space, a bathroom, and a kitchenette. It gets me through the limited engagements, but--”

  “Take me there,” Poppy interrupts.

  I blink at her in surprise and shake my head slowly. “What?”

  Poppy nudges me towards the door, a grin on her face. “Take me to your hotel. I can’t go home tonight. Seriously. If I see Brad tonight, I might do something I regret, so save me the embarrassment and let me crash with you… please?”

  I swallow down the lump in my throat, but nod, bowing my head curtly to her. “As you wish.”

  She nods and stomps off, weaving her way through the half-capacity crowd. I turn to follow her and hear Cat’s voice call after me, “Consequences, Storm… everything has consequences…”

  I shake the ominous feeling that settles over as I walk out of the Hookah bar and find Poppy already sitting astride my bike, helmet on her head and my leather jacket in her hand. She turns to look at me through the opened visor and waves the jacket around in the air. “Figured you might want this..”

  Walking over to the bike, I take the jacket from her and shrug it on, closing my eyes with a sigh as the worn leather molds to my body. I tilt my head from side to side and relish in the feeling of a hug from an old friend. I open my eyes and see her watching me unabashedly. I turn and throw my leg over the seat, being careful not to kick her and settle into the seat. She instantly wraps her arms around my waist and despite my better judgement, I can feel a jolt of energy sizzle through me at her touch and it’s definitely not coming from the engine.

  She keeps the side of her head pressed between my shoulder blades for the entire ride, her hands balled up in the thin fabric of my tank top. By the time we get to my hotel, my thoughts are swirling in and out of negativity. I park the bike and kill the engine, then glance over my shoulder at her as I pull my helmet off. “It isn’t much, but you’re welcome to stay. If you change your mind, I’ll be happy to call a cab for you.”

  I sit there silently and wait for her to let go of me, but she doesn’t. Her hands are still balled firmly in my shirt, so I try again. “Did you want me to… call one now?”

  She shakes her head at me, then sighs softly. “No, it’s just so… peaceful here. I didn’t know there was any corner of Atlantic City that wasn’t polluted by the hustle and bustle of tourists.”

  I chuckle and shake my head. “That’s because we’re not in Atlantic City anymore. We’re in Egg Harbor. I always stay out here when I come to AC. It’s just far enough away from the city lights that I don’t feel all the pressure of my fights weighing on me, but close enough that I can be there in under half an hour.”

  She nods slowly, then releases my shirt and climbs off the bike from behind me. She brushes herself off, then stands there awkwardly as I dismount the bike and stash the helmets back in the saddlebags. I nudge her gently with my shoulder. “You okay? Like I said, I can call a cab… or take you back..”

  She snaps her gaze up to mine, shaking her head quickly. “No, no… please. This is fine. It’ll be good to get out of the city for a while. I wasn’t raised a city girl, so I still feel out of place there.”

  I smile and open my arms wide. “Ocean City boy myself, though my Pops moved us up into AC when I was teenager. That’s when I starting honing my craft…”

  She narrows her eyes at me as I dig into my back pocket to make sure the hotel room key is still there. She smirks and laughs softly, “You mean beating the crap out of the kids who tried to take your lunch money?”

  A darkness slides through my emotions, but I quickly will it away. The reason I fought had far less to do with money and more to do with my very survival. It was a dog eat dog world for a mixed kid in the inner city, but I don’t need to bombard her with my pity
party.. I just shrug a shoulder and motion towards the hotel. “I assure you, they weren’t after lunch money, but yeah, something like that. Pops did the best he could with me. There’s certainly none of my negative traits that I can blame him for…”

  I slide the key card into the lock on the outside door and the light flashes green. I pull the door open and motion her inside. She obliges and I lead the way to my first floor suite. It’s a hangup I have about hotels. I don’t do elevators, so I always request the first floor. That, and I have a fear of fires dating back to the night our entire block went up in flames in Ocean City. It’s the whole reason we moved to Atlantic City and though it was deemed to be due to faulty electrical wiring in our apartment building, I’ve had the hangup ever since.

  I push open the door to my suite and flip on the light, stepping aside so Poppy can enter the room. She glances around, then turns around and looks at me curiously. “There’s only one bed?”

  Despite my macho exterior, a blush creeps across my cheeks. Of course there's only one bed. There’s only one me. “There’s a pullout in the couch,” I murmur as I motion to the burgundy atrocity. “I can sleep there and you can take the bed.”

  Poppy nods thoughtfully and wanders into the bedroom. She disappears into the bathroom and I hear the water running, so I assume she’s taking a shower. I use the time to slip into the bedroom and grab a pair of sleep shorts, quickly changing out of my street clothes and tossing them onto the chair in the corner of the small bedroom. I’m just finishing up when I hear the bathroom door creak open.

  Poppy lets out a high-pitched squeal as my presence in the rooms startles her. She stumbles over her words as she tries to say something, “I, uh… didn’t, uh, I can just, uh…”

  Despite my better judgement, I feel the nervous chuckle bubble up in my throat before I can stop it. She looks absolutely mortified, but everything of importance is covered. Nothing is inappropriate, even though I am only wearing a thin pair of shorts. She’s noticed too as her eyes drift from my face down to my upper body that is utterly exposed. It’s nothing less than what I fight in, except I’m usually wearing underwear under my shorts when I fight. But I’m going to go out on a limb here and say she’s never seen me fight.

  “My face is up here, you know,” I tease.

  She jerks her eyes up my body to my face, crimson tingeing her cheeks as she stammers, “Sorry, I uh… I’m an idiot, ogling you like a piece of meat…”

  I shrug and dig into the top drawer, producing a t-shirt that I toss at her “Make yourself comfortable, Poppy. And don’t worry about staring at me. I know I’m an ugly, imposing dude that makes people nervous. I can’t say I blame you for wanting to keep an eye on me.”

  She mumbles under her breath as she turns her back to me and pulls the dress off over her head, letting it fall to the floor. I grunt softly, feeling the uncomfortable tightness in my groin as my eyes rake over her skin. There’s a basic beige bra strap that cuts across her back and she’s wearing some kind of skin-tight shorts that accentuate the gentle slope of her hips She’s not all purchased curves and angles like the women I’m used to seeing, but there’s something about the simplicity of her body that sets mine on edge. She wiggles into my t-shirt quickly, the length hitting against her upper thigh. Most girls who’ve worn my shirts are tiny and swallowed alive in my clothing. Despite her lithe frame though, her height makes my shirt almost indecent on her. My eyes are slowly taking in the subtle outline of her shape when she turns around to find me staring.

  Before I can even blink, she’s closed the distance between us, murmuring, “Looks like I’m not the only one with wandering-eyes syndrome.”

  I snap out of my haze quickly, nodding as I hastily back away from her. “I’m just, uh, gonna go in there and, you know… chill on the couch or whatever.” I back out of the door as fast as I can, nearly tripping backwards over my feet as I hasten my exit from the room. I don’t know what it is about this woman, but something tells me I’m about to go dive head first down a rabbit hole from which there’s no return…

  NINE

  Poppy

  When Storm stumbles backwards out of the room, the haze holding my thoughts hostage clears and I dive for the bed, mortified. Did I just make eyes at Braxton Storm? What the hell is wrong with me? I have a loving, faithful husband at home who’s waiting… oh, who am I kidding? Brad is none of that. He hasn’t been loving since before the ink dried on our marriage license. He’s certainly not faithful and I doubt he’s waiting up for me. After all, he’s the one who told me not to bother coming home. Besides, it’s not like I was doing anything other than window shopping. Just appreciating the human form in one spectacular display of taut muscle and sharp angles.

  Braxton Storm is everything Brad isn’t. He’s charming and witty. He’s known me for a few hours, and he already knows more about what I like than Brad has bothered to figure out in six years. And he’s a gentleman. A gorgeous gentleman who gives new meaning to tall, dark, and handsome. So far, Braxton Storm ticks every box on my checklist except one - he’s not my husband. He’s not my boyfriend. He’s barely even a friend.

  I flop on the bed, trying to get comfortable as I flip through something like two thousand channels. Who needs two thousand channels of television? What’s even worse is there’s nothing on any of them! I groan and turn onto my side, slamming my eyes shut and trying to will myself into sleep. After what seems like an eternity, I scoot out of the bed and wander to the doorway, swinging it open and stepping into the living area… except I’m met by a massive wall that doesn’t budge as I slam into it.

  “Oof, sorry…”

  I crane my head back to see Storm standing there, looking tousled like he’s already been asleep. He points into the room at the bathroom and smiles sleepily, “All that tea got to me too, it just took a little longer.”

  I step out of his way and he trudges through the room, stepping into the bathroom and pushing the door almost closed. I stand there, stupefied as I listen to him pee. What the hell? I’m such a creeper! The man has been nothing but nice to me and here I am, eavesdropping on his bodily functions. I shake my head and slip out of the room before he can realize that I’ve been listening in on his toilet concerto.

  I walk into the living room area and drop down onto the couch, pulling my legs underneath me. After several minutes, he wanders back out and looks at me with an amused look on his face. “Is the bed too hard? Do you need extra pillows? I can call down and—”

  I put both hands up in the air and shake my head. “No, no… the bed’s fine… it’s just… big, and empty… and lonely…”

  Fuck Poppy, get it together. You sound absolutely pathetic right now. Storm nods and walks over to the couch, sitting down beside me. “Well, how about we be lonely together?”

  My stomach lurches, doing somersaults as he plops his massive frame beside me. This is wrong on absolutely every level, but why does it feel so comfortable? So normal? So right?

  Storm flips on the TV and starts channel surfing as I sit in the far corner of the couch, tucked into the smallest ball one could make out of a human body. Except my long, gangly legs. They stick out from under the ball making me look like Qbert, minus the honking schnozz. He settles on a new program that’s recapping his fight.

  Seeing him on the screen in a tiny pair of shorts, even shorter than the ones he’s wearing now, piques my interest. I watch him dance across the screen, weaving in and out of his opponent’s punches like a graceful dancer, every move calculated, every move protected… until out of nowhere, his opponent’s foot crashes into the side of his head and Storm goes face down to the mat like a sack of rocks… and he doesn’t get back up.

  I gasp and turn my attention away from the TV to him, where he’s scowling at the footage. He shakes his head like he’s trying to wipe away the memory of it, so I nudge his shoulder. “That was a dirty move, Storm. You couldn’t have possibly known—”

  He cuts me off with a low growl, “I know. It�
��s my move. And that bastard stole it. It’s called the white rabbit and it’s very effective because it almost breaks the rules of time. It comes at you a lot faster than you think…by the time you realize what’s happening, it’s too late. And the thief stole it!”

  I shrink down beside him and he sighs. “I’m sorry Poppy, I shouldn’t have yelled at you. But it’s frustrating when everything you’ve spent your whole life working for… is at risk because of one error. And knowing that one more mistake could be the end of it all… years of hard work and dedication to perfect a craft, just to have it thrown down the drain by someone else…”

  My entire body tenses as he rests his arm across the back of the couch. I nod slowly and blow out a breath, my hair flopping around in front of my face. “I know, Storm. You’re not only one whose dream is five seconds from being completely shattered, but I’ve got three barely-healed cracks in my clavicle that say my dream is a lot closer to being done than yours.”

  He turns to look at me sharply. “I swear when I see that husband of yours—