by Harlow James
“Can I ask you something?”
Javi stands still, staring at me before he shrugs one shoulder and folds his arms across his chest. “Depends. There are certain things I don’t like to talk about …”
“Well, I kind of need clarity on this topic …”
He takes a deep breath and then exhales loudly. “Okay …”
“I heard something the other day, but I don’t know if it’s true, so I thought it would be best to ask you in person.” I focus down on my fingers, tearing at my cuticles as nerves wrack my body. Why am I so afraid to ask the question? Is it because I’m afraid of the answer? Or am I afraid of how he’ll react?
Do I really care if Javi has done time? Or is my fear that he’ll end our arrangement because of me prying?
“Just say what you need to say, Sydney.” There’s an annoyance in his tone, which makes me muster up the courage to just put the words out there, consequences be damned. I have a right to know who I’m sleeping with. I have a right to be concerned that he may have a past or penchant for violence. My father could be right, which I think is the scariest notion of them all.
So I take the plunge, throw the words out in the open knowing I can never retract them, hoping that they won’t ruin everything we’ve shared so far.
“Have you been to prison, Javi?”
Chapter 22
Javier
“Have you been to prison, Javi?”
The moment the words leave her lips, my heart tries to break out of my ribcage. I had a feeling that’s what was coming, especially after she alluded to her dad’s concerns. I’m surprised it’s taken this long for her to sense that I’m hiding something, or even for her to hear from people around town something that would allude to the two years I was locked away.
It’s not public knowledge that we’ve been sleeping together, obviously—but gossip is a dangerous thing, especially with how many women from Sydney’s community frequent my sister’s salon, and after our impromptu lunch last week, I’m sure people saw us. We’re not strangers in this town, and people know I’m the older brother of the owner of Rejuvenation, so it was only a matter of time before breadcrumbs made a trail linking Sydney to information about myself.
“Where did you hear that?” I grate out the question, unsure of how angry I’m allowed to feel at this moment.
This is why I didn’t want to share personal information and have these types of conversations with her where we talked about our feelings and divulged our pasts because I knew it would lead to this moment. But I guess I only have myself to blame for that one anyway. I’m mentally kicking myself in the mouth right now for even crossing the line I was so hell bent on drawing when we started sleeping together anyway.
“Well, there were some women talking at the salon last week,” she replies, as her eyes veer to the side of the room for a moment. “And then the parole officer that came into the gym …”
I fucking knew it. I knew Sydney wasn’t stupid enough to let that detail go. I hoped and prayed that she wouldn’t put two and two together, but fuck—she’s a lawyer and smart as a whip. Of course she sensed that Gerald was there to talk to me.
I stand there, seething beneath the surface as I contemplate how to handle this. I wasn’t prepared for this conversation tonight. When I got her text, my dick instantly grew hard knowing I would get to claim her body again. It seemed that was all she was looking for too. Now I’m wondering how we ever got on this subject matter.
“Are you going to answer me?” She spats, lifting a brow and placing her hands on her hips now, clearly frustrated with my avoidance and silence.
There’s no use in hiding the truth now. Sydney has the means to verify my record anyway. The words written in black ink that plague my life can’t be erased.
“Guilty as charged, Princess.”
Sydney’s eyes grow wide with surprise, and a flash of fear—the exact reaction I wanted to avoid and never get from her. That look right there sliced through my heart, penetrating the barricade I’ve constructed around it. I shouldn’t care that she seems taken aback and nervous about that scrap of information, but since I’ve grown to actually give a shit about her, I feel like less of man now that she knows about the black cloud of my past.
“Um … when? Why?”
I shove off the counter, fury running through me now, a siren going off in my brain to abort this conversation and put a stop to the festering guilt building in my gut. “It’s none of your business, Sydney. Remember, we agreed this was just sex, so it shouldn’t matter, right?” I glare at her over my shoulder as I move into the living room.
I can hear her footsteps stagger behind me as she follows my movements. “Um, it does matter, Javi. I have a right to know who I’m sleeping with.”
“Didn’t seem that important to you when you were begging me to fuck you …”
“Well, that was then. Things are …” She trails off and as I twist to face her, I see the same confusion on her face that I’ve been feeling in my body for a few weeks now.
Things are different now, aren’t they, Sydney?
Because I sure as fuck feel it too.
But now the fog that’s been obstructing my vision is starting to burn off and I’m smacked in the face with reality once again. Sydney and I could never work. We come from two different worlds, two different lives with sets of expectations that could never match up. Her dad would never approve of me, so what’s the point in trying?
“Lines seem to have been blurred, Princess, so maybe we just stop this right now since my past has seemed to derail you this evening.”
“What?” she whispers, clutching her hand over her heart as if I shot an arrow to that point in her chest. I’m hurting her, which is the last thing I wanted to do, but ultimately, I think I knew it was inevitable.
If she only knew that it’s killing me to push her away right now too.
I don’t want this to end, but now that the cat’s out of the bag, I can’t see how this is supposed to go any further. I’m a monster, a man that made a mistake when he snapped. How could she ever feel safe with me?
“I think we’ve ran our course. I don’t do personal, Sydney, and obviously that little tidbit of information has made you think of me differently. I can see it all over your face.” I turn away from her again, burying my hands in my hair as I sink into my couch.
“Is that what you think? That because you’ve been to prison, I don’t want to sleep with you anymore? That’s …”
My head pops up and meets her eyes brimming with tears. Fuck, I hate seeing her cry. Why does it feel like someone’s stabbing me in the chest right now?
“I thought maybe you thought more of me than that, Javi.” She shakes her head at me as one tear slides down her cheek, her hand reaching up to brush it away.
I can’t watch her cry anymore. The itch to punch a hole in my wall comes on so strong that I know she needs to leave before I explode and ruin the work I’ve done on this house. I need her out of here, so I say something final and harsh that will cement the situation we’re in.
“I think you were a good fuck and we had fun. But let’s just call this what it is, Princess. Done.”
I watch her clench her jaw and her fists, glaring at me through her moisture filled eyes, before storming away from me, grabbing her purse, and moving for my door.
“You won’t even give me a chance to tell you how I feel, will you?” She says softly with her back turned to me, but I can sense the hesitation in her voice.
“What’s the point?” I mutter back, keeping my head buried in my hands.
“That things aren’t always what you think, Javi. I thought I had more respect from you than this.”
“Just go, Sydney. Please.” My voice is cracking as I hear her turn the knob and open the door, closing it harshly behind her.
As soon as I hear her car start and see the headlights pull out of my yard, I push up off the couch in a fit of rage.
“Fuck!” I reach for the clos
est thing to me and chuck it across the room. Unluckily for me I found my remote and watch as the black plastic shatters and ricochets off the drywall, leaving a dent and scratch in the navy blue paint.
But it’s not nearly as bad as the gaping hole in my chest right now.
Why does it feel like someone is squeezing my heart in their fist as my blood pressure soars and a lump lodges itself in my throat? Why is my head pounding as I retrieve the broom from the hall closet and proceed to clean up my mess?
Because she meant more to you, idiot.
Apparently my subconscious is a lot smarter than me, or at least not as stubborn, as reality sets in.
I didn’t want her to know because I care.
I didn’t want to see her reaction because I knew how she thinks about me would affect me.
When we were having sex, it didn’t matter that I was an ex-con, a man from the other side of town, a boy who never felt worthy because of the looks others gave me due to the color of my skin and where I lived.
She was all that mattered.
The way she trusted me to please her.
Her cries of pleasure and touch that told me I made her feel safe in my hands.
The way she kept coming back for more, even beyond a few orgasms.
Our small conversations, the little details that we shared with each other. Those moments all allowed her to bury herself in my chest, and I didn’t even see it coming.
But I’m no good for her. And I think she knows it now. Which is why this is for the best.
My sister was right. Someone was bound to get hurt in our arrangement.
I just never thought it’d be me.
Chapter 23
Sydney
“So on a scale from one to ten, how is your anger today?” Ally’s sassiness comes through my Bluetooth speaker as I drive to work, her daily check-in since Saturday helping me process my fall out with Javi.
“Well, I thought the extra mile I ran this morning would have knocked me down a notch, but sadly I’d say I’m still hovering around an eight.”
Softening her voice, she flips a switch on me that I’m not emotionally prepared for. “Is it just anger you’re feeling, Syd, or is there a little sadness there too?” The sting of tears builds as I continue to drive, blurring my vision.
“I think that’s a fair assessment,” I reply on a whisper, afraid to keep talking otherwise the damn might break and I’ll ruin my makeup before I ever get to work.
I don’t want to cry or allow myself to feel sad because then I’m just going to feel sorry for myself when I have no one to blame but me. I knew what I was getting into when this all started, what I agreed to when Javier told me that this could only just be about sex and feelings were to be left out. But true to my womanly ways, I went and caught feelings and more importantly, Javi never gave me the opportunity to actually tell him how I felt about his confession. Then again, he was the one who initiated text conversations and communication that wasn’t just about hooking up, so maybe the bad boy forgot about his own damn rules and he is partially to blame for how I’m feeling right now.
Hearing him confirm my suspicions opened up a can of worms in my mind, but all I really wanted him to know was that I didn’t think of him differently because of it. In fact, learning that morsel of information about him made me feel like I understood him better.
It explained some of the comments he had made, his need to start fresh, his decline of alcohol anywhere in public. It made his hard exterior easier to recognize as a defense mechanism and not just who he really is as a person. I never would have suspected that detail about his past if I hadn’t seen his parole officer with my own two eyes or heard that gossip in the salon. He doesn’t look like a criminal or even act like one. Hell, he’s a man holding down two very physically grueling jobs and seems responsible and loyal, which leads me to believe that perhaps his time behind bars was a result of an unfortunate circumstance or moment of regret.
But you can certainly tell he has a story that’s jaded him and caused him to push people away, even though I was starting to see the playful and endearing sides of Javi in our short time of knowing each other. And yet as soon as I chiseled away at his armor, he was eager for a fight, ready to chain the gates up again.
“This is what I was afraid of. You’ve been so focused on being pissed for the past four days, I’m just waiting for the breakdown to come.”
“Well, as much as I’d like to give you that satisfaction that I feel it coming on, I can’t melt down on the way to work right now. I love you, Ally, but I can’t talk anymore about this.”
“Okay, okay,” she relents as I pull into the parking lot of the law firm and shut off my car. “Let’s get together Friday night for wine and trolling Jared around the neighborhood. He’s probably only got a few more weeks of ice cream man duties before he has to return to school.”
Her diversion makes me laugh and succeeds in helping me keep it together. “He’s got at least a month and a half, Ally. It’s only the end of June.”
“Well, every moment counts my friend. Maybe you should consider giving him a test drive to help you get over Javi.”
I scoff. “Ha. Yeah, no. I don’t think anyone could make my toes curl like he did.”
“You really were into him, weren’t you? It wasn’t just about the sex …”
A long sigh leaves my lips as I reach for my purse, preparing to exit my car. “I wanted it to be, but the things he did to my body, Ally … I don’t know how you start to imagine never having to live without that again. He gave me exactly what I was craving and before I knew it, I grew attached.”
“Yeah, unfortunately that can be a side effect of mind-blowing orgasms.”
I chuckle and then stand from my car, disconnecting our conversation from the Bluetooth as I hold my phone between my shoulder and face while I walk into the office.
“It will be alright. Sounds like the boy has baggage he needs to deal with anyway.”
“Don’t we all though, Ally? Does someone’s past mistakes dictate who they are now as a person? Shouldn’t we be inclined to believe that people can learn from their poor choices? I sure have my own baggage to deal with too, but his didn’t make me want to stop seeing him. I just wish he knew that.”
As I place my purse on my desk and fire up my computer, Tessa walks through the door and greets me with a wave.
“Listen, Ally. I gotta go. I love you and I’ll see you Friday night.”
“Sure thing, Syd. Hang in there. Everything will work itself out. And if not, I have plenty of book boyfriends to keep you warm at night and help you fulfill those fantasies that Javi never got to.”
“Yeah, thanks.” I end the call and then Tessa comes back into my office, holding a piping hot mug of coffee.
“Do you need another cup this morning?” she asks, while blowing the steam off hers.
“Yes, please. It’s going to be a long day.”
She offers me a soft smile and then spins on her heel to fetch me a cup of coffee while I start to settle into my chair and check my emails.
“Here you go.” Setting down a navy blue mug, she winces and bites her thumbnail.
“What’s up, Tessa?”
“Well, I know you said you have a long day, but I forgot to tell you that your father scheduled a lunch with you for today…”
“Crap.” I fall back in my chair, exasperated.
“Yeah. But at least he called to make an appointment this time instead of surprising you.” She beams, as if that makes everything better, although she does have a point. I’m sure there’s an imperative reason for this lunch if he took the initiative to call my assistant to put it on the schedule.
“Guess that means I’d better get to work then since who knows how long this lunch will take.”
Tessa throws me a wink as she exits my office. “Good luck, boss.”
I bury my mind in this contract negotiation sitting on my desk, which helps block out the misery plaguing my mind thanks
to Javi and the impending lunch with my father. The morning flies by after one appointment with a client and a few interruptions from my paralegal, Yerelin, leading me into scurrying across town to make lunch with my dad.
Amity Bistro is nestled in a shopping center near Main Street, offering outdoor dining on their terrace with ivy climbing up the wrought iron fencing that encloses the space. Misters hang from overhead to ward off the humid Texas air so that an outdoor dining experience can still be enjoyable, but my father has always insisted that we sit inside near a window when we dine here.
I arrive five minutes late, which isn’t the end of the world to me, especially if it cuts into time I have to listen to him offer more disapproval of my life. I haven’t spoken to him for the same length of time as Javi, since the night of my brothers’ graduation, when he alluded to knowing just exactly what I’d been up to in the evenings. So who knows what this lunch will entail. He’ll either act like nothing is wrong, or he’ll continue to press the matter, which will most likely result in me storming out again.
As I’m greeted by the hostess, I see him waving at me from the back, so I head over without bothering for an escort. By the beaming smile on his face, I’m guessing we’re going to pretend that nothing happened four days ago during this meal.
“Hi, Dad.” I press up on my toes and kiss his cheek after he stands to greet me.
“Sydney. You look beautiful today. That color brings out your eyes, sweetheart.” My father’s compliment on my teal dress helps me feel slightly more confident about my appearance and this lunch today. I think most girls will agree that when something goes wrong in our love lives, we start to question every detail about our appearance, letting insecurities far and wide rear their ugly heads.
“Thank you.”
“And did you lighten your hair?” He takes his seat again, reaching for the glass of water above his place setting.
