CHAPTER THREE
Dove
"Hey, kid."
"Robin!" I let him kiss my cheek and step aside so he can follow me into the apartment. "You're late. What happened?"
"Elise happened," he says. "I had to walk Pepper for her."
I groan. That freaking yappy little dog is the bane of my existence, but I choose not to mention it, focusing on something else instead of picking a fight the first few minutes my brother is here. I ignore the bag of takeout he brought and focus on the half-dead plant in his hand. "This for me?"
"If you can save it." Robin sets the food down on the counter and we inspect the plant together. "I don't know what I'm doing wrong. Every plant I get dies. And even worse, it's taking me less and less time to kill them."
"Good thing you have me," I grin, reaching for my watering can of tepid water and carefully pouring some into the plant’s cute cat-shaped planter. "I'll have it back to life in no time. You gonna let me keep this one too?"
"Why not?" Robin laughs. "It's not like you need another plant, but at least it won't instantly die in my house."
He's right. My apartment is like a jungle. I can't resist a pretty plant, and I somehow always come back with something new, leafy and green when I leave the house. Even if I don't, Robin supplies me with his castoffs more often than not. At this point, I'm pretty sure he's killing them on purpose so he can cheer me up with a new addition every week.
"So?" he asks, the excitement clear in his voice as we settle on the sofa in the living room. "How did the shoot go? You didn't say anything earlier."
"I wanted to tell you in person." I pick up the TV remote and click on play and one of our favorite shows starts to play out on the screen. We both know it by heart now. Half of the time we spend together is just quoting the freaking show to one another. "It went well, I think."
Robin reaches for the remote and pauses the show. He's always afraid he'll miss something if we talk while we watch it, even though we've both seen every episode a thousand times. "Well, tell me everything. I got a text from Katya. She said the photographer couldn't stop gushing about you."
I laugh out loud. Katya, one of my brother's ex-girlfriends, who he stayed in touch with – much to Elise's dismay – was the hairstylist on set. She's the one who told Robin that Raphael was looking for unique models. And then Robin wouldn't leave me alone for weeks, begging me to go through with it. He thought it would be good for me, and as hesitant as I was about the whole thing, it ended up working out.
"Well, first of all," I start, narrowing my eyes at him. "You didn't tell me it was a nude shoot."
He laughs, nervously scratching the back of his dark-haired head. "I figured it would be. But you're cool with that, right?"
Robin knows I'm nowhere near cool with that. Not that nudity is the problem. No, it's being exposed – all my scars plainly visible for the viewer. But I find myself nodding now, as if it isn't a problem at all.
"It was actually kind of fun," I admit. "And really exhausting. I must've been there for five hours or even more. Two to do the makeup and hair, and then another three of shooting."
"So, what's Santino like?"
"He's..." I struggle to find the right words. "Intense. Interesting." Freaking hot as sin, I want to add, but I force myself not to. Although Robin knows me so well, I'm pretty sure he can tell what I was going to say next. "I'm glad I went, anyway. Thanks for making me go."
"You're welcome," Robin beams before waggling his brows at me. "Heard the guy asked you out."
I groan. "Katya really can't keep her mouth shut, can she?"
"Nope." My brother's grinning from ear to ear. "So, how'd you turn down this one?"
Despite the scar, I've been asked out a fair few times in the past few years since I moved out to LA. But I almost always turn down people who ask me. After a few disastrous experiences – including one where my date turned out to be a plastic surgeon and spent half of dinner explaining how he could fix my scar – I've pretty much sworn off dating altogether.
"I didn't," I finally say. "We're going out tomorrow."
"What?" Robin's mouth gapes open. "You agreed to go out with him?"
"Why not?" I shrug weakly. "I haven't been on a date in almost two years. Figured I might as well try again before I fully commit to being a green-fingered spinster."
"Cute." Robin stares me down. "So what are you doing on your date?"
"Dinner," I blurt out, my cheeks flushing a deep shade of red as I feel his penetrating smile on me.
"Dinner," he repeats. "Wow. You must really like this guy."
Robin knows as well as I do, I never do dinner dates, because I hate eating in front of other people. It's always awkward, and I don't want to deal with their prying questions about why I'm just picking at the food on my plate and not actually eating anything.
"What are you wearing?" my brother asks next and I shrug.
"I don't know. The usual?"
"Nuh uh, no way." I groan as I look into his determined eyes. "Why don't you borrow something from Elise? I'm sure she'd be happy to lend you something, and you're the same size, too."
We're only the same size because his tiny girlfriend starves herself on a daily basis to fit into a size zero. But then again, am I not doing the same thing? Even though it's for different reasons, I'm no better than Miss Instagram model/resident bitch Elise Howard.
"Fine," I finally groan. Elise will fucking love this. For some unknown reason, she's obsessed with me. She constantly offers to do my hair and makeup. To take me shopping, to get my nails done. I've fought it off successfully for the past year she's been with my brother, but I guess this is my freaking breaking point. She'll be thrilled.
"Perfect," Robin says. "I'll shoot her a quick text to let her know."
He pulls out his phone, narrowing his eyes at the screen.
"Trouble in paradise?"
"She's texted me twenty-seven times in the past ten minutes," Robin groans.
"God, how do you put up with it?" I shake my head. "She's so possessive. It’s just as well she likes me. What the hell does she do when you're around other women you're not freaking related to?"
"You don't wanna know," Robin mutters, his fingers busy as he types a reply. For the next few minutes, he glares at his phone. "She's not replying."
"Maybe she's driving," I offer, which is a lame excuse, because we both know Elise texts while driving. "I'm sure she'll get back to you soon."
Just then, the sound of the doorbell rings out through the room. We exchange glances and get up from the sofa, both heading for the door. I open it, and of course, Elise stands on the doorstep in one of her bubblegum pink outfits to match her Barbie car, Pepper barking his head off at us from her designer purse – no doubt another one of my brother's gifts.
"Dove!" she exclaims, giving me air kisses on both cheeks as that insufferable dog barks and barks. "So good to see you, darling."
"What are you doing here, Elise?" Robin asks before I can reply, and his girlfriend gives him an innocent look. "We agreed to meet up tomorrow, not today."
"Well, you weren't answering my texts, honeybear," Elise pouts. God, that fucking nickname. It's so hard not to laugh at my brother when she uses it. "I thought something was wrong."
"I told you, I'm spending the evening with my sister," Robin insists. Why do his words make me feel so guilty? I feel like I'm taking away from Elise's time with him, and guilt threatens to swallow me up whole. "I don't have time to hang out today."
"Why can't we all hang out together?" Elise whines next. "I won't even complain about watching that stupid show again. Please? Let me come in. Please."
She's practically begging at this point, and I can tell my brother's resolve is weakening.
"Why don't you just go back to your place?" I suggest. "I can handle a night on my own, Robin."
"Absolutely not." Sigh. It was worth a try. If only Robin weren't so overprotective. "We'll all stay in tonight."
He st
eps aside to let Elise in. I groan inwardly. The last thing I want is to spend an evening with the woman, but it looks like I have no choice. The blonde walks inside with a triumphant smile and sets her purse on the floor. Pepper jumps out, stopping to growl at me before raising his leg at a plant I've barely managed to save from dying. Just fucking perfect.
Elise doesn't even scold him, and we all file into the living room. The silence would be awkward, but there isn't any. Elise is desperate to fill every second of the time we spend together with her ramblings. It's almost worse than the dog's constant yapping.
My brother tells her about the date I have the next day, and I cringe inwardly when she shrieks and tells me we must meet up the next day to do some maintenance. I don't have a clue what maintenance means, but by her critical gaze as she examines me up close, I'm guessing it'll take up most of my day. I'm already dreading it, but Robin's always so desperate for me to be close with Elise, I find myself agreeing to meet her in Rodeo Drive the next day.
I think of my mom then. I don't like to think about my parents very often, but I know she'd love that I'm going on a date. As annoying as she can be, I'm actually looking forward to our obligatory weekly call this time. At least I'll have some good news to tell her.
Robin insists on staying until midnight's come and gone. I'm grateful Elise is here though, because I know Robin understands I won't want to eat in front of her. While they feast on the Thai takeout he brought, nobody forces me to eat, and I'm grateful for it. I watch Elise picking at her vegetables – she's pescatarian on Tuesdays and vegan for the rest of the week – and wonder where her issues with food came from. I know exactly why mine are present. It all stems from my mother's belief that I'm damaged goods.
When they finally get up to leave, I'm grateful for the peaceful night ahead. Robin shows me all the leftovers, including an untouched Pad Thai they left for me, and I promise him I'll have some, crossing my fingers behind my back. I walk them out and wave them off as they drive away in their separate cars and then I lock the front door.
My tummy is rumbling, but I pay it no mind. It's not worth the trouble to eat. I pile the leftovers and the untouched food into a brown paper bag and head outside again. The street is colder than earlier, but the night is pleasant. I walk down the street to the alleyway where Sam is already waiting.
"Robin come over again today?" he asks with a wide smile.
"You know it." I hand him the paper bag. "It's Thai today. I left the plastic cutlery in there. And I got you some sweet buns when I was in town earlier. Those are in there, too."
"Thanks, Dove." He gives me a bright smile. "Heading back already?"
"I have to," I say, winking at him. "Got a hot date tomorrow."
"A date?" Sam laughs out loud. "Who's the lucky guy?"
"That photographer I met today," I admit. "He was kind of cute, actually."
More like unbearably-fucking-hot, but I'm not about to admit that to Sam. He'd never stop making fun of me.
"I'll see you tomorrow?" he asks, the hope obvious in his voice, and I have to shrug apologetically.
"I brought you the buns because I'll be away for most of the day," I explain. "But I'll drop by the day after with some food. You need anything else?"
He shakes his head, even though we both know there are a lot of other things he needs.
"You want to come in the day after tomorrow? You could take a hot shower. I can brush your hair." I grin at him. His hair is a rat's nest, but he refuses to let me pay for a barber.
"No thanks, Dove," he replies firmly. He never wants to come into my house, no matter how many times I suggest it. I'm desperate to do more for him, but it was hard enough to get him to accept the food. Maybe with time, I can help him some more. "I'll see you the day after tomorrow, yeah?"
"Of course." I blow him a kiss and he laughs, retreating to his makeshift bed on the sidewalk.
I wrap my black cardigan tight around my body as a chill blows right through me. I've done everything on my to-do list now, but the night stretches ahead, promising hours of insomnia.
Maybe if I could finally catch a wink of sleep, things would be different. But as I lock the door behind me, I know it's not an option. Not with the shadow of my past hanging heavy above me with every step I take.
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About the author
Isabella Starling is the USA Today and Amazon bestselling author of Pet, Peep Show and more. Isabella lives in the capital of a small, picturesque European country with her partner and three furbabies.
She describes her books with three words: dirty, dark, and forbidden. Isa loves writing dark, twisted stories with possessive heroes and the women they love.
Stalk me, I love it!
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Also by Isabella Starling
My favorite books I’ve written
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A Hurt So Sweet Volume One
A Hurt So Sweet Volume Two
A Hurt So Sweet Volume Three
A Hurt So Sweet Volume Four
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Devil’s Captive
Devil’s Toy
Devil’s Sinner
Princess After Dark series
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Lords of Wildwood Series
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Empire Sin series
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Hate & Love duet
He Hates Me
He Hates Me Not
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