“Yeah, you’re in deep shit. You’ve made my list. I’ve been trying to message you.”
He only looks at me with his steely grey eyes, giving me an apologetic smile.
“I need a key to get in.”
“My phone died.” He grins producing it from his pocket with his other hand instead of the key I desperately want.
I snatch my hand away. “I don’t want your phone. Just a key to get in the apartment.”
Some other overplayed 80’s song starts up and Holden attempts to dance with me, spilling my drink on my shirt. Typical Holden.
“Stop it!” I try to yell at him over the loud music.
“Come on.” He takes my drink from me and downs it.
Jerkface. Gah, he infuriates me.
“I was drinking that.” I nearly stomp at him.
He smirks his signature smirk that gets him his way with all the ladies, but not with me. I don’t fall under his spell. He slowly drags his tongue across his bottom lip to capture the last of my drink. “What kind of friend would I be if I let my best friend’s girl drink and drive.”
I glare at him. “It’s like two blocks.”
“Dance with me, and I’ll buy you another.” He tries to pull me closer. He’s impossible. His thick arm cages around my waist, pulling me into his body. The heat of his body nearly ignites my clothing as he grinds against me.
My attempts to push him away with my palms on his chest go unaffected.
“You remember the first time I danced with you…I told you I wanted to kiss you.” His eyes zero in on my lips.
He wouldn’t dare.
“How much have you had to drink?” I ask, needing his attention away from my mouth.
“I’ll dance with you.” The floozie from bathroom hallway rubs her hands down his thick arms. Her red nails are chipped and her eyeliner is about an inch thick under her eyes as she peers at me with distaste over his shoulder.
Really Holden. I mentally shake my head. He could do better, but then again, I am sure he’s done worse.
He releases me, as my disgusted expression whips across his face. “See, you have a willing partner.” I try again to get what I came for. “I really need to get home and get dinner started.”
He tugs on a strand of my dark hair. “It’s ladies’ night, Con. Live a little. Big E won’t be home anytime soon. He’s probably fucking that tight ass bitch from his office. What’s her name…June.”
“Judy,” I correct him, hating that his words sting me. Judy is Ezra’s assistant and she’s gorgeous and sophisticated. She fits in perfectly in the corporate world, unlike me with my holey jeans and oversized hoodies. “Fuck you, Holden.”
“I’m game. You might as well have a good time. I’ll even stop drinking and drive you home myself. Cut loose. Get the stick outta your ass.” He smirks, and I shake my head, suppressing the urge to laugh.
Like I’d get in his death on wheels’ mobile.
“I’m going to cut something alright.” I’m about to snap on him.
He’s probably right about Ezra, getting in late. He is always entertaining a new client or working late on a project with Judy, but I trust Ezra. Even around a woman like Judy, but I was looking forward to a bath and my book. I’ve been reading the Game of Thrones books after I got hooked on the TV adaptation.
“You wound me.” He smiles and moves side to side, clutching his chest.
“I’ll just take the key, but thanks for the invitation. I don’t think your friend will like my stealing your attention.” My nose crinkles on the word friend.
“Pfftt.” He rolls his eyes. “Cheryl don’t care, do you?” He nods in her direction as she still grips his arms.
I begin to say of course not but stop myself. Ezra says I’m too hard on Holden. I don’t know why I let his antics get to me, but he seems to get under my skin. It’s as if he enjoys pushing my buttons.
“I don’t mind.” She smiles anything but friendly at me. She minds a lot, and I don’t care enough to be bothered. She’s another notch on his bedpost, I’m sure. I’ve never known him to have repeats, maybe one or two. But never a real girlfriend.
That along with him having a fling with Bailey is why I started dating Ezra. He’s safe. He won’t hurt me and use me like a guy like Holden would.
Holden begins to move his hips more, thrusting his ass backwards at his friend. It’s almost easy to get swept away by his charm. He has an easiness about him that draws you near, until you get to know him. I do know him though and the games he likes to play. So, I shake my head with a frown.
“Stop, I really need to get home.”
Holden pouts like a child.
“I have to see my advisor tomorrow. Early.” I don’t know why I’m explaining or making excuses. This is ridiculous.
“Fine, but you owe me a beer and a dance.”
I raise my brows at him, and he winks as he tucks his own key in my hand. It’s dangling from a bottle opener keyring with a picture of a pinup model on it. He’s such a pig.
Curling my fingers around the keyring, I shake my head and go home to wait for my boyfriend. Tomorrow, I’ll make my own damn key. Ezra should have gotten me one made. I shouldn’t be depending on Holden for a damn thing.
Ezra is my boyfriend, it’s his place to take care of me to an extent. He tries, I mean he did attempt to solve the problem of us not getting enough time together. Tired of hearing me complain about canceled plans, Ezra took the plunge and asked me to move in with him. I was sure we were headed for a break or a break up.
I was taken off guard when he asked, but we were at a crossroad in our relationship—take it to the next level or walk away. I was sure I was prepared to walk away until he got down on one knee and proposed that I live with him.
It seemed romantic at the time and it was, until I found out his best friend, Holden would also be living with us. I thought he meant we’d get an apartment of our own, but he only meant I would move in at Holden’s with him. Ezra and Holden have been roommates since his freshmen year of college.
I don’t know why I got my hopes up, but at least we’ve taken the next step in our relationship. I haven’t told my mom and Ronald that I moved off campus yet. They aren’t in favor of my relationship with Ezra getting serious too fast. It’s not that they don’t like him, but they think I’m too young to be dating seriously. They want me to focus on my degree.
Something else I haven’t told them…I’m not going to pursue teaching anymore, I’ve made up my mind. I want to be a writer. Though I’m not likely to tell them a damn thing though after the shit with my mother. After this semester, I’m not sure if I’ll return for the next. I have so many ideas and no time to write the stories playing out inside my head.
Going through the motions, I prepare dinner in hopes that Ezra will be hungry when he gets in and appreciate my effort. I never get to cook for him. Living at the dorms, I only had a hot plate and a microwave. There was only so much I could do with the two.
I take a sip of wine, not wanting to tell Ezra I was fired today.
Three hours later, my dinner is cold and untouched. I keep watching out the window for headlights or listening for footsteps…anything to alert me to Ezra’s arrival.
The apartment is spacious, it’s the upstairs of an old store. Holden uses the downstairs for his business. My only complaint would be that there is only one bathroom.
It’s definitely outfitted to be a bachelor pad with a black leather sofa and matching recliner serving as the only seating in the living room. A 60-inch television serves as the focal point of the room. Any gaming console you can think of is housed underneath on an entertainment stand, along with several books full of blue-ray movie discs.
Finally, I hear someone coming up the stairs.
Chapter 6
Holden
“Where you running off to?” Cheryl pesters at my side, as I finish my final beer of the night.
“Home. Alone,” I add on, making my intentions clear. She se
rved her purpose, now she needs to move on.
I move to toss my empty bottle in the trash.
“Seriously, alone?”
“What I said,” I say, continuing to brush her off. I nod to Waylon as he wipes down the bar. “I’m out. Lock up for me.”
“Sure thing, man.” He gives me a chin lift.
I really need to see about hiring an extra bartender. Cheryl does okay, but she doesn’t have great tits. Tits and ass attract more men who spend money buying women drinks, trying to get laid. And they like having something pretty to look at. I don’t mind it either.
I leave Cheryl to find some other sorry bastard to take her home. I knew better than to fuck around with her, but I’m a sucker for good head. That’s one thing she does a great job at. She’s a lousy waitress. Missy should be back after she has her six-week checkup, but I’m not counting on it. Waylon said she is loving staying home with the baby.
I make my way to my truck, patting my pockets for my keyring, and then I remember my dumbass gave my keys to Conleigh. Shit, I need to walk anyway with as much as I drank tonight. I only wish it wasn’t so fucking cold outside.
Nearly four hours and six beers after Conleigh left the bar, I make my way home. Ezra’s car is parked in front of our apartment, but I doubt he’s here. If he keeps working like he does, he’ll be bald or gray by thirty.
He doesn’t deserve Conleigh. He’s all wrong for her. So many times, I have wished that the first night I met her, I’d seen her first. I wish like hell that I had never kissed Bailey. I swear fate fucked with me. Conleigh should have been with me that night and Ezra should have picked up Bailey.
Bailey gave me a thank you kiss for getting their shots and she was a little eager. I should have pulled away. I should have told Conleigh that it meant nothing and that I wanted to get to know her, because she was the prettiest fucking girl I had ever seen. I didn’t do that though because I saw the way Ezra kept staring at her. He was just as mesmerized by her as I was.
I never stood a chance all because of one dumb kiss. Conleigh has never looked at me the way I want her to. She only sees me as the jerk who pissed off her best friend.
Trudging up the stairs, my feet are heavy. I should’ve come home when Con showed up. I feel like a dick for forgetting her key. She probably thinks I did it on purpose, but I got on a roll working earlier and it really did slip my mind. I’m working on a hope chest for Waylon’s four-week old daughter.
Before I can knock to be let in, the door flies open and Con’s face falls when she sees that it’s only me.
“Sorry to disappoint you,” I mumble as she moves away from the door.
Her dark brown hair rests in a tiny knot on top of her head. She pads across the floor runner to the small dining room that separates the living room and kitchen.
“You hungry?” She says, her tone soft, but sad.
“Sure, I can eat.” I pat my stomach as she takes up a chair, tugging the oversized university sweatshirt over her bare knees. She’s wearing grey tube socks with white and navy stripes, they are sliding down her calves. She keeps adjusting them, but they keep sliding back down her tan legs.
I kick my boots off and follow her to the table. I can hardly tear my eyes away from her silky legs.
The smell of garlic assaults my senses and I look to the table.
She wasn’t kidding. She really came home and made dinner. Garlic bread, salad, and spaghetti sits on display in the center of the table.
“You’ll probably have to heat it up in the microwave,” she tells me with a frown, as she twirls her fork in the pasta on her full plate. “The salad is probably wilted too.”
“Thanks.” I offer her a smile that she ignores. “Shoulda stayed at the Grill with me.” I observe and she pushes her plate away.
“You okay?”
She sighs and shakes her head. “I was fired today.”
“So, come work for me.”
“What?”
“Come work for me at the bar?”
“You run the bar?”
“I own the bar.”
“You think that I would come work at that shit hole bar for you”
“I’ll pay you ten dollars an hour. Tips under the table. I need you and you need me.”
“I need to talk it over with Ezra.”
“Is he your boyfriend or your daddy?”
“That’s original.” She rolls her eyes.
“Think about it. You’d make damn good tips.”
She nods. “I will. I’m going to bed. I’ll clean this up in the morning.”
“Sure, no problem.” I shrug and grab an empty plate, loading it up with noodles and sauce.
In the kitchen, I glance at the clock on the stove and it reads 11:15. Damn. Ezra should’ve been home by now. I put the plate in the microwave and pour a glass of milk while I wait. I hate the way he is doing Conleigh. I know that he said he made a mistake when he cheated on her with Judy, but in my gut, I know he’s still seeing her. When I dropped him at the office the other day, she was standing at the door waiting for him with a coffee and when she kissed his cheek in greeting, his hand went to the small of her back, in an intimate gesture.
Once the microwave dings, I take my plate and drink to the dining room. Maybe Ezra will come in before I finish and join me. Seems like we haven’t really hung out much lately. Shit, I see Conleigh more than I do him and she just moved in.
I was hesitant when he mentioned her moving in. This has been a bachelor pad since I first bought the building. However, Ezra swore it wouldn’t change my lifestyle, and he said it wouldn’t be long before they found something for the two of them. When I turned twenty-one I was given access to my trust fund and invested in this property. I use the basement for my workshop. I create furniture and anything really out of pallet wood. College wasn’t for me. I dropped out as soon as my funds were released. It wasn’t like I had anyone who cared to stop me.
I let that thought go and rip off the crust off my bread. It’s hard as a damn rock, but the center is soft.
As I am enjoying the meal that was cooked for another man, I can hear the faint sound of Conleigh’s sobs.
Part of me wants to comfort her, make her laugh or something, but it isn’t my place. I finish up eating and still, there is no sign of Ezra.
All this food shouldn’t go to waste, so I transfer it into plastic storage containers, sticking them all in the fridge. Then I load the dishwasher and set it to start in the morning, so it isn’t running while we are sleeping. I don’t have to wake up early, but I remember Conleigh mentioning she has an early class or maybe that was the other day. I don’t know why I care. It isn’t my place to and Conleigh has made her feelings about me perfectly clear.
When I reach the end of the hall, I can hear Conleigh on the phone with one of her friends making excuses for Ezra. This is why I don’t do relationships, it only leads to disappointment. I’ve had enough of that shit in my life. Don’t have room for more.
Lifting my shirt over the back of my head, I toss it on a chair and shove my jeans down. After kicking my socks off, clad in my boxers I get ready to crash.
Fuck, I forgot to brush my teeth. That’s the only thing that I want to change about this place, a spare bathroom. We’ve not ran into any issues yet, but then again, it’s only been a few days of having a chick live here. I never thought I’d see the day that girly shit would be lined up on my sink.
Pink fucking toothbrush, a curling fucking iron, and a makeup bag. I stick her shit under the sink. Out of sight out of mind.
When I see her tampons under the sink…I don’t know if this is going to work. Girl shit in my space is a big fat nope. I’ll give it time, maybe they’ll get a place of their own—soon.
Chapter 7
Conleigh
I toss and turn in bed, unable to find comfort. Ezra crept in more than an hour ago. He showered and crawled into bed without even acknowledging me. I wasn’t facing him, but I was awake. I thought maybe he’d apolog
ize and try to make it up to me with sex. I assumed that was why he showered. I guessed wrong.
I know he’s tired and under pressure from his dad, but I thought with our living together and it being my first few weeks here, he’d actually be home to spend time with me. With a heavy sigh, I shift under the sheets and roll over to the middle of the bed, laying my head on his shoulder, wanting to feel his warmth…wanting to be close to him…to remind him, I’m very much here.
I want to talk to him about my job situation or lack of one. Maybe I should take Holden up on his offer to work at the bar. It’s close by and I could walk until I find a car.
Ezra shifts under my touch.
The smell of his manly soap clinging to his skin makes me feel relaxed as I snuggle closer to him.
Not even two seconds have passed before he is twisting away from me. “Too hot in here for that, C,” he grumbles. His words are like a bucket of ice water to my confidence.
I miss him.
I miss us.
Without a word, I grab my book from the nightstand along with my new to me phone. Maybe tonight, I’ll sleep on the couch. Part of me expects Ezra to call out to me and apologize, but he remains quiet.
I look back at him once more, and he doesn’t even look in my direction. His blond hair is feathered across his forehead, and I fight the urge to brush it back from his face. I could swear he’s pretending to be asleep. If he didn’t want me here why did he invite me to move in? Maybe this was too much for him…and for me. I just hate this distance that seems to be separating us.
In the living room, I take up residence on the couch and attempt to get comfortable, to no avail. Swiping my finger across the screen of my phone, the clock illuminates 3:30 in the morning. My alarm is set to go off in three hours. What’s the point in sleeping? Instead, I make my way into the kitchen to start the coffee pot. When I get upset, I eat, so I start poking around in the fridge. It’s a terrible habit. The dinner I made sits neatly in Tupperware containers. I smile, maybe I’m being paranoid. Ezra must’ve cleaned up for me.
My Best Friend's Girl Page 4
