by Jen Davis
“What?” Carol swiveled her head, following her gaze. “Holy shit. Is he the guy? It’s the big dude, isn’t it? Girl, he’s not pasty at all.”
She nodded miserably and forced her eyes to meet her friend’s. “Can we please go? I embarrassed myself last time I talked to him.”
“Hell no. We were here first. Besides, he’s seen you now.” Carol glanced quickly to the side and back again. “And…he’s headed this way.”
Blanking her face, she held her breath until she felt the tingle of his presence beside her.
“Olivia.”
She sucked in air and turned her head when he rasped her name. She loved the sound of his voice, deep with a touch of Georgia flavor. “Brick.”
He shuffled his feet. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t’ve—”
“Sit down, buddy.” Carol popped to her feet and offered her chair to him.
He studied her, looking unsure whether to follow her command.
“You plan on ditching my friend again?”
He shook his head.
“Then sit down and talk to her.” She hefted her purse onto her shoulder. “In fact, you can take her home. I’m out of here.”
Brick’s gaze followed her as she flounced out the door before he slowly lowered himself to the chair. His black T-shirt strained as he folded and then unfolded his arms.
“I thought you wanted me to stay away from you,” she said softly. “Kind of hard to do when you keep showing up in my space.”
“Fair enough.” He watched his hand as it flexed around his bottle of Bud.
The man always focused anywhere but on her. “You can’t even look at me?”
When his gaze traveled upward, his face betrayed his harsh need. “I can look. The problem is making myself stop.”
She had so many questions about who he was. Why he made her brother so sure he was dangerous. Thank God Carol hadn’t heard Will’s accusations. Otherwise, she’d still be giving the guy the third degree instead of strapping on her seatbelt and heading home.
She frowned. Maybe she should be doing the same…but which scenario? Ask the questions or walk away?
The old Liv would have chosen the latter.
“Are you a drug dealer?” The words popped out of her mouth before she made a conscious decision to ask.
Brick swallowed deeply from the drink he’d carried to the table. “I’m not, but I work for one. I don’t sell his product, but I won’t lie to you, what I do is no better. It’s—” He ground his teeth. “I hate it. I’m trying to get out, but it’s complicated. And dangerous. It’s why I blew you off. You shouldn’t be anywhere near my kind of life.”
Okay, he was trying to walk away. He couldn’t be all bad.
Brick didn’t wait for a response. “I want you to be safe. Do you…have someone to keep you safe, Olivia?”
Keep her safe? Who could’ve kept her safe from the cancer when it appeared out of nowhere last year? No one. She’d fought it and fucking won. She didn’t need anyone to keep her safe. What could be a bigger threat than the one she’d already faced?
“I’m safe.” Why the hell did her voice sound so breathy?
“No one is safe.” It seemed like he said it more to himself than to her.
Tough to argue the same conclusion she’d reached on her own ten seconds ago, but he looked so put out, she couldn’t help but grin. “Then why did you ask?”
He ignored the question. “I heard your brother just got out of jail. Is it true?”
She didn’t answer at first. Will’s nightmare was no one’s business but his own. She wouldn’t share the details, but she acknowledged the truth with a nod.
Brick leaned toward her, vibrating with intensity. “What did he do?”
“What happened with my brother is not my story to tell.” She would never spread her family secrets around. Even annoyed at Will, she’d never even consider betraying him.
“But would he ever hurt you? I know he got angry—”
“Stop right there.” Her lips pressed into a hard line. “My brother would never hurt me. He and my sister practically raised me, and he has never laid a hand on me in my entire life.”
Brick’s face softened for a moment before his questioning look returned. “What happened to your parents?”
She didn’t talk about them much, but something in the way he asked the question struck a chord. He cared about her answer. “My dad had cancer. He died when I was nine. Five years later, we lost Mom in a car accident. Will was eighteen, so the social workers let us stay together.” Even after all these years, the memory of losing her mom cut her wide open. She drained her wine glass and pushed it away.
He didn’t take her hand, but he moved his closer, letting the back of it rest against hers. “I’m sorry. I know what it is to lose your parents.” For a moment, his hard face looked unguarded. He seemed ten years younger.
Then his jaw firmed. “Whatever Will had to do to take care of you…I have nothing but respect. Obviously, you turned out amazing. Keeping a roof over your head at eighteen, that’s some stand-up shit.”
Her skin flamed where he touched her. Everything inside her strained for deeper contact. When his words finally registered, her reply came out in a rush. “Mom had life insurance, thank God. It paid off the house and helped us pay the bills for a few years. We sold the place when I graduated from high school. My share paid for college. My sister started her Krav Maga classes.”
The money came too late for Will. The familiar feeling of helplessness bubbled in her chest. “I wish we would have sold it sooner. Let Will use his share for a decent lawyer.” She buried her face in her hands. Losing Will carved out a hole in her heart she hadn’t fully healed.
Brick slid his chair closer and gently wrapped his arm around her shoulder. She turned into his embrace without thinking, seeking more of his comforting warmth. He smelled of Dial soap and a hint of sandalwood. Indulging herself, she breathed in deeply, committing his scent to memory.
“He wouldn’t let you sacrifice for him,” his deep voice rumbled. “He wanted you to have a home.”
Reluctantly, she pulled her head up to face him, but his arm remained at her back. Their faces were so close together, she could see the individual bristles of the five o’clock shadow on his face. She swallowed against the awareness of his touch. “Classic Will. Stubborn ass. When he got out, he used his money to buy a little place of his own. He’s still trying to take care of me, though.”
Brick’s arm fell away. “By warning you away from me.”
“He’s earned the right to tell me what he thinks, but I make the decisions about my personal life. I’ve always tried to do the right thing, and while it hasn’t always been the most exciting path, it’s what brought me to teaching, which is one of the greatest joys in my life. The other stuff—the things I don’t like about my life—I’m working to change them. But again, on my terms.”
Brick tilted his head. “You’re a teacher?”
She warmed at the approval in his eyes. “Yeah. High school.”
He chuckled. “I’ll bet the boys love you.”
“Eh. I get a few flirts, but nothing too crazy. I think most kids can tell when they get a teacher who really cares. I think it’s instinct. All I know is, helping them inspires me. I want to help them have better lives. Help them find opportunities.”
Brick rubbed his finger over the stem of her wine glass. “School was never really my thing. Maybe if I had someone like you looking out for me back then, my life would be different.” He blinked hard and stood abruptly. “Come on. It’s getting late. I told your friend I would take you home.”
She rose unsteadily to her feet, the effects of her cumulative five glasses of wine buzzing in her ears. She forced one foot in front of the other, following his broad back as he led the way through the small crowd, out the front door.
The hinges groaned as Brick opened the passenger door of his big navy work-truck, and she climbed inside. A moment later, he eased behin
d the wheel. “Where to?”
She was tempted not to answer. She wanted this night to last, but she murmured her address, and she’d barely closed her eyes before they arrived.
Without missing a beat, Brick climbed out and walked her to her door. She knew she was supposed to go in, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. Instead, she stepped close to his body, breathing in his scent mingled with the sweet smell of night jasmine blooming nearby. He froze, and she ran her fingertips up the side of his arm.
“Do you want to kiss me?” She bit her lip. “Sometimes I think you do. Sometimes, I think you want it as much as I do.” She let her hand fall. “Is it all in my head?”
He groaned. “I lie in bed at night, dreaming about what it would be like to kiss you.” Moving slowly, he reached for her hand. She closed her eyes, her pulse racing in her ears.
And finally, she felt his lips…feather across her palm.
Everything within her wanted to throw herself in his arms, but when she opened her eyes, he’d already stepped back.
“Thanks for making my dreams come true, Livie-mine.” Then, like a ghost, he disappeared into the night.
***
Five minutes after she locked her door and slid off her shoes, Liv’s phone buzzed in her purse.
Carol: I see u made it home OK. I want details.
Liv scowled at Carol’s text.
Liv: R U spying on me? #creeper
She set down the phone to unbutton her jeans, but it buzzed again in seconds.
Carol: U think I’d really leave u alone with some strange guy? Of course, I followed u. #dumbass
She should’ve known. She probably would have known if she could’ve taken her eyes off Brick for five seconds.
She finished stripping down and crawled into bed wearing only her underwear and T-shirt.
Liv: Fine. Will call u l8r.
She fell asleep with the phone in her hand and dreamed of soft, full lips…the rasp of stubble…and the unmistakable want in Brick’s eyes as he told her goodnight.
CHAPTER NINE
Liv
More than twenty-four hours of insidious nausea reminded Liv why she didn’t often overindulge in alcohol. But by Tuesday evening, the punishing aftermath from her night of drinking had subsided enough for her to return to the gym. Thank God, because Izzy didn’t cut her any slack. In fact, she rode her harder than her other instructor ever did.
When she said so, Iz muttered something about Eduardo being a pussy and demanded ten more push-ups. The work-out kicked her ass as much as the hangover did. Almost.
The cardio and strength training were only warm-ups, though. “We’re going to spar tonight, Liv. You ready to show me what you’ve got?”
Like before, the only thing in the room, aside from her and her sister, was a slightly padded mat. There was nowhere to hide from Izzy’s enthusiasm, and the single metal door was the only escape from the interior whitewashed brick walls.
Using the back of her wrist, she wiped away the sweat pouring from her forehead. Iz barely appeared ruffled from their thirty minutes of exertion. “Somehow I think I’m going to regret this.”
“Hush. The only way to see what you’ve learned is to put it to the test.” Iz waved her forward. “Come at me.”
Studying her sister, she searched for an opening. Iz appeared relaxed, but underneath lurked a jungle cat…all lazy-limbed and laid back—until she ripped your face off your fucking head. Still, like an idiot, she took a swing. Iz batted her away like a fly.
“Again.”
This time, she stepped in and tried to take Iz with an elbow to the chest, but her sister stepped deftly aside and swept out her leg, knocking her down to all fours. Then for good measure, Iz gave a gentle kick to her sore midsection.
“Again.”
As she climbed to her feet, her face heated. This shit was getting old. Gritting her teeth, she launched a kick toward Izzy’s knee, but a fast-moving foot blocked her path. She didn’t wait before taking her next swing, but her sister countered.
She thought she could move out of the way. She moved into the path of her sister’s fist.
The impact made light flash in her eyes.
She couldn’t remember anything ever hurting so much. “You fucking hit me!” Her stomach rolled, her lunch threatened to decorate her shoes, and Izzy didn’t even have the decency to look sorry about it.
She covered her left eye, tears pouring down her cheeks.
“You stepped into my fist, dummy.” Bitch didn’t act even a little bit sorry, but she did put an arm around her shoulders. “I guess you’ve suffered enough for tonight.”
“I hate you. I’m going over to Carol’s tonight, and now I look like a punching bag.”
Izzy laughed. “It’s only a little red. Wait a few minutes. It will fade, and all you’ll have left is a little injured pride.” Her sister maneuvered her toward the door. “I’ll take you to Carol’s, and you can tell her all about how mean I am.”
Thank God she didn’t have to drive. She only wanted to close her eyes…and maybe whimper a little. In the five minutes it took to get to Carol’s apartment, her eye had swollen so much she couldn’t open it. This would not go over well at school.
Once they got to the porch and into the light, Iz couldn’t hide her wince. “Yeah. That’s gonna leave a mark. I’m sorry, Nugget.” She rang the bell, and Carol’s eyes were wide as saucers when she opened the door.
“Maybe I should be glad I’m an only child.”
Izzy lifted her hand in a one-finger salute before heading back to her car.
Carol led her into the living room before continuing to the kitchen. She pulled an ice pack out of the freezer, then tossed it toward the couch. Liv swiped it from the cushion beside her and gently held it to her face.
Carol handed her a bottle of water. “I don’t have any booze.”
The very thought of alcohol made her groan. “No booze. No way. No how.” She didn’t even want the water. She set it on the coffee table.
Carol curled up next to her on the sofa. “Uh oh. You got sick? I didn’t realize you drank so much. Did you have more after I left?”
She glared with her one good eye. “You left? I thought you said you were stalking me.”
“I waited outside in my car and followed you two back to your place. Call it stalking if you want, but if he was a serial killer, you would be glad I’m bad with boundaries.”
The chill from the ice pack seeping into her bones, she tugged the fuzzy blanket off the back of the sofa and snuggled beneath it. Well, almost. Her left arm had to stay out to keep the cold to her face. “So, you saw nothing, then?”
“I wouldn’t say nothing.” Carol shot her a sly smile. “I saw him walk you to the door and kiss your hand.” She swayed from side to side in a swoon and batted her eyelashes. “So sweet. Tell me everything.”
She shrugged the shoulder beneath the blanket. “He still thinks his life is too dangerous for me to be around. Just like Will. Of course, no one bothers to care what I think.”
“What do you think?” There was the question again. Her friend kept asking it, and the answer should have been easy, but Liv’s judgment sucked. Thankfully, Carol had been a steady beacon for months.
“I think…I want a chance to know him.” Frustrated, she tossed the ice pack on the table and burrowed deeper beneath the blanket. “He’s so gentle with me. And he looks at me like—I can’t even explain it. He looks at me like I’m everything. When he does that, it doesn’t even matter what he’s doing when we’re not together.”
She flinched at her own words. “Maybe it should. I know it should, but it’s like all the stuff I should worry about goes away. He acts like I’m a dream come true. Me. When have I ever been someone’s dream come true?” She shook her head. “Never. I wasn’t Ryan’s for damn sure.”
Carol slid under the blanket with her and grasped Liv’s cold hand with her warm one. “What’s his name?”
“Would you believe me
if I told you I don’t know? They call him Brick, but I don’t know his real name.” Acknowledging it aloud only highlighted how ridiculous it was. She steeled herself for Carol’s inevitable laugh.
But it didn’t come. Instead, her friend asked gently, “What do you know?”
“I know I want to keep feeling the way I do when he looks at me.” She sighed. “I know he’s a good guy underneath whatever shitty circumstances he’s in. He wants to get away from it. He wants to keep me away from it. I know he’s had a hard life.”
She closed her eyes and leaned her head against the cushion, her hand slipping out of her friend’s. “I think he lost his parents too, but he didn’t have someone like Will or Izzy to make sure things would be okay.”
“Are you going to see him again?”
She could hear no censure in Carol’s voice. It was one of the things she loved best about her friend. Though Carol did sound tired and looked it, too.
She didn’t even think before she answered. “Yes. I’m not sure how, but yeah, I’m going to see him again.”
***
When she woke up the next morning, Liv found an eye patch on Carol’s coffee table. Her friend must have planted it there during the night. Gamely, she tried it on, but she quickly ruled it out. First of all, the elastic rubbed against the bruise which had blossomed as she slept, making her more uncomfortable than ever. Secondly, the patch only covered about half of her swollen purple flesh.
Third, she looked like a fucking pirate.
A wannabe pirate with a black eye the size of Texas.
She dragged herself into Carol’s bedroom, hoping to beg a ride home, but her friend had looked so exhausted last night, she couldn’t bring herself to wake her. So, she Ubered. A quick shower and half a bottle of concealer later, she figured she could pass as someone who hadn’t run into a fist the night before.