“I was just leaving. Did you need something?”
“I didn’t see your bike outside. Do you need a ride home?”
Why was he even looking for my bike? Sometimes his interest borders on creepy. “I have a ride, but thank you.” I motion to the parking lot. The driver’s door of the black truck is opening and Apollo is stepping down. I can feel his gaze on me even through the doors.
Chad glances in his direction and a muscle ticks in his jaw. “I thought he was your study partner.”
“Um, he is. He’s also a friend. Did you need anything else, Chad?”
Apollo is almost to the door. His face is stormy, his strong jaw tight and his dark green eyes flash even from a distance. I really don’t want a fight.
Chad must realize it’s a possibility because he steps away from me. “No. That’s it. I’ll see you this weekend.”
I nod and walk away from him, feeling his eyes follow me as I make my way outside. Maybe it’s because he’s still watching me or maybe I’m just relieved to see Apollo, but I walk up to him and wrap my arms around his narrow waist. He pauses only a second before his strong arms encase me in a steel cage. He’s thick and all muscle. At that moment, I’m oblivious to Chad watching or anything else. He’s warm, and he smells like lemons and oranges. I feel safe wrapped up in his embrace. I haven’t felt safe for a while.
“Are you okay?” His breath stirs the hair near my ear and shakes me from the trance I sank into.
I pull away nervously. “Yeah.” My voice breaks uncomfortably. “Is he still watching?” I ask in a lower whisper.
Apollo looks down at me. Tenderness and something else glimmers in his gaze – longing and a touch of amusement.
“He’s still watching.” He bows his head, and his lips meet mine.
I freeze, but unlike the other men that have kissed me, Apollo’s kiss doesn’t feel wrong. His lips are warm and firm, not sloppy and wet. They’re tentative as they explore mine, and I’m almost disappointed when he pulls away. My tummy clenches with a wave of desire that feels foreign. I get horny, but usually, it’s sexy scenes in romance books, not kisses. Apollo is the first guy who has ever started a spark in me with a kiss. And it had just been our lips, no tongue.
“There, now he’s gone,” he rumbles in a low voice. I slip away, my cheeks hot.
“Right.” Right, I repeat internally. He kissed me to help me with Chad. “Thanks.” I start walking toward the truck, but Apollo catches my hand in his large one. He doesn’t say anything until after he’s unlocked the vehicle and helped me climb in. With me sitting inside the truck, we’re almost the same height. He leans against the edge of my seat. His rough fingers trace my bare arm from my elbow to my wrist, leaving blazing sparks in their wake.
“I didn’t kiss you just to scare off that pansy, Sen. I’ve wanted to kiss you since we were in sixth grade. Remember when you climbed up that tree and sat beside me? You told me a story while I took pictures.”
My eyes widen. “You remember that?”
“I remember everything.” He turns away and closes the door before sliding in the driver’s side. He doesn’t say anything else, but his hand reaches across the bare space between us to take my hand. I let him, selfishly enjoying the contact and his comforting strength.
“Where’s Orion?” I’m trying to change the subject and get rid of the nervous desire that makes me want to climb across the seat and kiss him again.
“He stayed home this time. He’ll pick you up for school tomorrow, though.”
My lips quirk. “Are you guys taking shifts? I don’t need a babysitter.”
“You need a driver,” he answers. He’s right; I can’t really argue. Until my bike is fixed, I do need the help.
I bite my lip, wondering what he’ll think if I ask him to stop by the food bank. Just as I’m working up my courage to ask, he pulls into the parking lot of a grocery store. I glance at him. “Do you need something?”
“You need food.”
“How do you…?” I pick at my khaki pants. The uniform is uncomfortable compared to my usual clothes. I don’t wear pants unless I have to. I have a few quirks, ones the boys I grew up with were well aware of when we were kids.
“It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to know. You were starving when you came to school this morning, and your mom is not a provider.”
I snort. “That’s an understatement.” But I don’t get out of the truck. I suck my lip in between my teeth. “I don’t have any money to get food here, Apollo. I was going to go to the food bank on Forty-Fifth Street. I think it’s still open.”
Apollo doesn’t say anything. Instead, he gets out of the truck and comes around to my side, opening the door.
My brows draw together. Didn’t he hear me? “I don’t…” I begin again.
“You don’t need money; I have money. None of us want you to live off canned pears and macaroni.” I assume he means himself and the other guys.
“Actually, they have a lot of choices. It’s not a big deal, Apollo. I’ve been eating mostly food bank food for years.”
“Then you need some variety.”
“Apollo.” My voice is firm, and he meets my gaze. The parking lot lights reflect in his dark green eyes.
“Senya,” he repeats in the same voice. I know he won’t move. He won’t move an inch until I get out of this car and go with him into the store.
“You’re so stubborn,” I huff as I slide down from the seat. He grins crookedly, and I like that it makes him look less serious. His hand immediately catches mine again, as if he can’t bear to not touch me.
“It takes one to know one,” he parrots back to me, but the effect is ruined. His voice is no longer the squeak it was when we said those words to each other as kids.
“Okay, but just a few things,” I sigh. “I’ll go to the food bank tomorrow.”
He doesn’t say a word as he wheels a large cart from the foyer. He pushes it and still manages to hold my hand. I’m impressed. I always run into things even with two hands. He heads toward the produce section first and starts putting apples and oranges into the cart.
“Apollo.” I steal my hand back from him and put my hands on my hips.
He looks at me with one eyebrow raised.
“First of all, those are organic. They’re far more expensive. Second of all, I can’t let you buy me a bunch of groceries. I’ll just get a couple bags of ramen, some rice, and milk. That will hold us for the rest of the week.” I know how to make food last.
After throwing in a bag of carrots, he moves so that he stands toe to toe with me. I lean my head back to see his face. If I’m around him, his brother, and Aric for any length of time, I’m going to need a neck brace.
“I’m going to fill this cart, and you’re going to take the food home and eat it. I want you to put some of it in your room so your mom doesn’t eat it all while you’re at school. And I don’t want you to argue anymore.”
I stomp my foot like a little kid. “Apollo, I can’t let you spend your money on my mom and me. You know she’s going to eat half this food. I can’t hide it all.”
Apollo’s jaw tightens as he acknowledges the truth in my statement, but he shrugs anyway. “This is my dad’s money, and he’s already told me I can spend as much money as I want on food for you. I realize your mom will eat some, but there’s not much we can do about that.” I open my mouth again, but he puts one finger over my lips. “No more arguing.”
I glare at him and quickly bite the tip of his finger. He pulls his hand away in surprise. “Don’t put your body parts near my mouth unless you want me to bite them,” I warn him.
His head leans over mine. “Maybe I like being bitten.” His voice is low and sexy. It immediately curls into hunger in my gut. Then, he turns away to continue loading the cart.
I follow him, still trying to reconcile the Apollo I remember with the dangerous, sensual man who calmly goes grocery shopping. He occasionally asks me questions. Do I still love Cheetos? What does m
y mom hate but I love?
By the time we’re done, it’s almost ten o’clock, and we have a grocery cart full of food. Half of it my mom won’t eat because she’s a picky eater even when she’s hungry. I don’t mean to starve her, but a teenage boy shouldn’t have to buy food for a forty-year-old woman. I didn’t get any of the food Larry brought over for Mom last night, so fuck them.
I’m not oblivious to the stares that Apollo gathers. Young women, college girls, even women as old as my mom eye him appreciatively as he grabs something off the top shelf and his arm muscles flex under his t-shirt. I catch myself checking out his ass more than once. It’s perfectly firm in dark jeans, and I have a weird urge to smack it just to see what he would do. I have to stick my hands in my pockets to control myself.
I can’t watch while the cashier rings up the total. Instead, I scheme ways to make it up to Apollo’s dad. I miss the absent-minded professor and his sweet wife. We spent a lot of time at their house when we were kids because they had the most room and the best gaming equipment. Memories of nights spent playing video games or watching movies in the brothers’ bedroom comfort me when things are really bad.
“Do you still share a room with your brother?” The question pops out before I even think about what I’m asking.
He raises an eyebrow, his expression amused as the cashier continues to ogle him. If he notices her staring, he doesn't acknowledge it. He doesn’t answer until we’re wheeling the cart out to the truck. “No, but we have adjoining rooms. The door stays open unless we need privacy.”
My cheeks flame as I think about what kind of privacy a teenage boy needs. I help him load the bags into the back of the cab which has recently been cleaned. There aren’t any more gym bags or textbooks.
Once we’re heading toward my house, I twist so I can see his profile as he drives. “Thank you, Apollo. I’ll make it up to you and your dad.”
“Don’t worry about it, Pixie.” He stares straight ahead, his hand clenching on the steering wheel. I know he’s about to ask a question I might not like. “Do you believe Manny? That his stepmom hid your letters?”
I take a deep breath, not at all surprised that he knows. Nothing was ever sacred between two of us as kids. “Yes,” I answer. “I really thought he didn’t care…”
His hand finds mine again. His thumb brushes over my knuckles and raises gooseflesh on my arms. “I’m sorry. Orion and I were so mad when Dad sent us to that football camp right after the funeral. He’d already had it set up for months, and it was so expensive. If we didn’t go, he would have lost all that money.”
“It’s okay.” I shrug.
He shakes his head. “No, it’s not. Especially not when Manny moved at the same time and Aric was busy dealing with the fall-out of his dad’s job loss and taking care of his little sister. None of us were there for you.”
I pull my hand away and sigh, crossing my arms over my chest. “Really. Don’t worry about it. We can’t change the past. What’s done is done.” My usual cynicism leaks out into my words.
“It won’t happen again,” he states firmly. It almost sounds like a promise.
I laugh. “You can’t say that, Apollo. We’re seniors. You and your brother will go to college in the fall, and Manny will go wherever geniuses go. Don’t make promises you can’t keep.” He opens his mouth again, but I shake my head. “Don’t. Please. Just don’t.” I can’t bear it if it happened again. I learned I could only rely on myself. That doesn’t mean I can’t be friends with them. Some part of me realizes I need that right now, but I can’t expect them to save me.
He must sense something in my voice because he doesn’t say another word. We drive in silence to my apartment building, and he stops the truck next to my bike with the flat tire. I’m almost hoping it magically fixed itself during the day, but it’s still very flat. Apollo gets out of the car, but I stop him.
“What are you doing?” Panic rises in my voice.
He glances into the backseat. “It will take you at least five trips to carry all that into your apartment, and you’re on the second floor. I’ll help.”
“You can’t!” I really don’t want him to see where I live.
He doesn’t answer. Instead, he opens my door, opens the back door, and grabs over half of the bags. Then, he just waits for me - with fifty pounds of groceries hanging off his arms.
“Gah!” I scream. “You’re such a stubborn ass!” Angrily, I slip my backpack on and grab the rest of the bags. Although I only have half of what Apollo is carrying, they’re still heavy.
“Lock the doors.” I obediently press the little button and slam the truck door. Then I stomp away from him toward the stairs. He eyes the steps warily, and I don’t blame him. They creak under me. They might not hold him.
“You can wait here,” I tell him. “The stairs might break.”
His facial expression doesn’t change as he follows me up the stairs. Thankfully, we don’t come crashing down. The landlord is an asshole. He’d probably blame Mom and me for his stupid, unsafe stairs collapsing. I don’t look at Apollo as I lead him through the stinking hall and toward my door. My face is hot with embarrassment. I don’t even think as I perform my usual check, putting my ear to the wood before I unlock it.
It’s dark inside, lit only by the dim light over the stovetop that filters into the living room. The two rooms are really only one, separated by a short bar that’s covered with mail, papers, and a plate of weed that hasn’t been rolled up yet. The smell of it fills the apartment. I don’t see Mom, though, so that’s good. Maybe she’s not home.
“Senya?”
I groan. Not so lucky.
She comes out of the bathroom, looking worse than she has for a week. Her makeup is smeared all over her wrinkled face, and her hair is greasy. She’s wearing a long t-shirt that barely covers her ass.
“Mom, I have someone with me. Put some pants on.” Apollo waits behind me, a solid presence that is unmovable as a wall.
“Who do you have with you?” Her voice is suspicious, and I don’t blame her. I never bring friends here. Even the boyfriends I fucked never came home with me.
Rolling my eyes, I silently apologize to Apollo for needing to have his eyes bleached when he leaves and push into the apartment. “Just a friend. I have groceries too.”
Mom turns on the light, further revealing the squalor we live in. I barely spend time in the main rooms, so I never pay any attention to how dirty they are. Empty liquor bottles litter the floor along with another plate of rolled joints. Not to mention the empty food cartons and the overflowing sink full of dirty dishes. I told Mom she had to do the housework because I paid the bills. She doesn’t, of course. I’m thankful I didn’t buy a lot of food that needed cooking because I can’t stand to spend time in the gross kitchen.
I turn to Apollo. His eyes are scanning the apartment, but I can’t read his expression. He’s a blank slate.
“Oooh,” Mom purrs. “Who’s your friend?”
My stomach flips with disgust. “You remember Apollo? You met him at Dad’s funeral.” Not that she’d been sober, but…
“Oh…is this your brother?”
“No, Mom.”
He’s standing stiffly while Mom looks him up and down. I take advantage of her preoccupation with him to carry the bags I’m holding into my room. I hide them under my comforter. We already sorted the food. The ones he has will go into the kitchen. He watches me over her head as I do this and calmly answers my mom’s questions to distract her. It takes a moment to unlock my door, and I’m glad that he’s keeping her busy because I’d been concerned about how to hide the food.
Finally, the contraband is stowed, and I return to the kitchen. “Mom, let him go so he can put away the groceries.” Her hand is on his arm, and I can tell he’s not too happy about it.
“Of course.” She steps away, still eyeing him like he’s a steak she wants to eat. “It was so nice of you to get groceries for us,” she continues. She bends over the bar. I almost
gag when I realize she’s wearing a lacy thong under her short shirt.
“Mom, seriously, put some pants on.”
She ignores me. “You know, I know a lot more than my daughter. She’s really inexperienced. If you’re looking for someone a little more mature…”
Apollo’s face turns a little green. I help him put away the groceries as quickly as possible, stopping him before he can open the refrigerator. “I’ll get those later,” I whisper to him. I don’t think the dead thing was ever cleared from the fridge, and I don’t want to make him more nauseous than he already is. “I’ll walk you down.” I grab his arm and drag him toward the door.
“Leaving already?” Mom pouts. It makes her look like a deranged clown with the mascara on her cheeks and lipstick smeared across her chin.
“Nice to meet you, Mrs. Baxter,” Apollo manages to say before he follows me out of the apartment. We’re silent until we get to his truck.
“God, I’m sorry about that,” I mutter. “She’s why I don’t like people in my place, and the fact that it’s a fucking pigsty.”
“You can’t stay here, Senya. If Child Services came, they’d take you away.”
“And where would I end up?” I demand angrily. “With some foster family that will be a different kind of problem? The devil you know and all that,” I grumble.
His hand cups my cheek, lifting my chin to meet his gaze. “Senya, are you safe here?”
His question is so sincere, I have to answer. “Mom is actually harmless.”
“But the guys she brings home?”
I shift from foot to foot, hating that he’s asking me this. It’s irritating how quickly these guys have wormed their way back into my life. They seem to know exactly what’s going on without me telling anyone. I’ve kept everything a secret for so long. “They’re not all bad.”
“Call me if you need me. Call any of us. No matter what time of day or night. Okay?” When I don’t answer right away, he asks again. “Okay?”
“Yeah, fine. I’ll call.” Maybe I’m just trying to appease him, but it’s also kind of nice that someone is worried about me for once. But I know what I am now. A charity case. They’re just easing their guilt from leaving me alone after Dad died.
Lost & Found: Contemporary Reverse Harem Page 10
