by Nikki Ash
“Will do.” She smiles sweetly up at me. “Have a good night.”
As I’m about to dip out, I notice her smile quickly fades into a frown. I do a double take, and her eyes are already back on her laptop, but something about the way her lips quirk down rubs me the wrong way. I should probably ignore it. My friends are waiting, and while Georgia and I get along, we aren’t exactly friends. The only reason we ended up living together was out of circumstance—Alec was too lazy to sell the place, Georgia wanted to give her sister some space, and I didn’t want to deal with finding a new place to live.
“Hey,” I say, getting her attention.
She glances back up at me, her eyes slightly glassy.
“You okay?”
“Mmhmm.” Her gaze goes back to her laptop.
“You sure?” I assess her features, not buying her noise of an answer.
“Yeah,” she chokes out, her voice contradicting her response.
“No, you’re not,” I say, stepping into her room.
I glance around, realizing in all the time we’ve been living together, I’ve never actually stepped foot in her room. After Lexi and Alec moved out, she took over the master bedroom. The walls are filled with a mixture of art her sister has created over the years and family pictures. Her furniture is all feminine, white-wash wood, and her area is clean and organized, barely lived in.
“Umm…yes, I am,” she volleys without looking up.
“Look at me,” I demand. When she ignores me, I step closer and pull her laptop away from her.
“Hey! What are you doing?” She scampers off the bed and comes after me.
I hold it over my head, and she tries to jump to grab it, but she’s a good half-foot shorter than my six-foot self, and with my reach being longer, she doesn’t stand a chance.
“Chase,” she whines. “I have work to do.
“First tell me why you’re upset.”
“I’m not upset.” She huffs.
I can’t help but chuckle at the way her lips form the most adorable pout.
“Are you laughing at me?” she accuses, her eyes turning into thin slits. It’s not often Georgia gets mad, but when she does, it’s sexy as hell.
The first few months of us living together were rough. Our rooms were butted up next to each other and when I would have women over, they would be a bit…vocal. Georgia would get hella pissed and let me know. And then there was this one time when a woman used her shaver… Yeah, she damn near killed me.
It wasn’t until I agreed to stop bringing women around that things calmed down. Then, after Alec and Lexi moved out, she moved to the master bedroom, which gave her her own bathroom. She told me I could bring women over again, but for the most part, I prefer going to their place. That way I can leave the morning after.
“Chase! My laptop!” she complains, jumping up to grab it.
“Not until you tell me what’s wrong.”
She drops her hands and sighs. “I just… I miss my sister,” she admits with a shrug. “I guess… I’m kind of lonely.” Tears fill her eyes, but she quickly blinks them away. “Now can I have my laptop back, please?” she whispers.
I knew she and Lexi were close, but I didn’t consider that Lexi moving out would be this hard for her. I’ve been so busy focusing on my own shit, like moving forward after my divorce, that I haven’t paid attention.
“Come out with me tonight,” I suggest.
“So I can play third wheel to whichever woman you’re planning to dick tonight?” Her face scrunches up in disgust. “I’m good.”
I bark out a laugh, shocked and kind of turned on that she said dick. How very unlike Georgia. “I’m not going to dick anyone. I’m just going to have a drink with the guys.” I had every intention of getting my dick wet tonight, but I can hold off one night to get Georgia out of the house.
“C’mon,” I press. “You might even have fun.” I mock gasp and she rolls her eyes.
“Fine.” She sighs, trying to sound like going out is such a hardship. “I guess I could use the change of scenery.”
“And an alcoholic beverage,” I add. “Get dressed, so we can go.”
I head out to the living room and drop onto the couch to wait for her. Women take hours to get ready, so I text the guys I’m meeting that I’m running late and warn them Georgia will be tagging along, so they know to be on their best behavior. Since Georgia sometimes stops by the fire station with Lexi to visit Alec, they know her. But since she’s kind of a recluse, nobody besides her family really knows her.
I’m texting Carter back, when I hear the click-clack of heels on the wood floor. I look up, mid-text, and am shocked as shit by the sight in front of me. For one, I swear she’s gotten ready in under twenty minutes. Something I’ve never seen a woman do before. But also, I’ve seen her occasionally dress up, and it’s always on the conservative side. However, right now, what she’s wearing is anything but.
Her black tank top is a turtleneck, hiding her cleavage, yet it’s form-fitting, showing off the outline of her perky tits and slim waist. You can’t technically see anything, but you can damn sure imagine what’s underneath. She’s wearing tiny—and I mean tiny—white shorts that show off her creamy, toned legs. Holy shit! My eyes land on her feet, and she’s donning black open-toed heels with little ribbons on the tops and red soles on the bottoms. My mind immediately goes to her legs wrapped around my waist with those heels digging into my back as I fuck—
Jesus! I. Cannot. Go. There.
“Do I look stupid?” she asks, forcing my eyes to go to her face. Her hair is down in waves, and the glasses she wears when she’s reading or working on the computer are absent. Her lashes are coated in a thin layer of mascara and her lips are shiny. But aside from that, she’s all natural, and fucking beautiful. I knew she was pretty. Once upon a time, I even considered trying to hook up with her, but Alec pulled the best friend card, and I never bothered to look again. I mean, she’s always in sweats and oversized shirts when she’s lounging around the house. And when she leaves, jeans and a T-shirt. I had no fucking clue what was hiding under there.
“I’m going to go change,” she says with a sigh, knocking me out of my thoughts.
“No!” I yell too loudly, causing her brows to rise in confusion. “I mean, no,” I choke out, clearing my throat. “You look good.”
Every night I go out, I come across women in expensive outfits and caked-on makeup trying way too hard—which is the norm in LA—yet here she is, wearing shorts, a simple top, and a pair of heels, and she blows any woman I’ve ever come across away.
And the worst part… she has no damn clue.
“Are you sure?” she asks cautiously. “Lexi left these here… Well, except the shoes. These are mine. Lexi bought them for me…” She rambles on, and all I can do is stare at her pouty pink lips. “I don’t really have any going out clothes, and I didn’t want to embarrass you, or myself.”
Huh? This shakes me out of my trance.
“One,” I say, standing, hating that she thinks she would embarrass me based on her wardrobe. “You could wear a burlap sack and look sexy as hell.”
She snorts. “You’re such a liar.”
“No, I’m not,” I tell her truthfully. “And whatever you want to wear is up to you. Nothing you put on would embarrass me.”
She flinches, quickly trying to hide it with a smile.
“What were you just thinking?” I ask, needing to know what’s going through her head. She’s the most soft-spoken person I know. Aside from getting upset about the women I used to bring home, she never complains about anything.
“Robert hated the way I dressed.”
“Fuck Robert.”
Robert was her short-term boyfriend. He thought he was fucking special because he worked for Daddy’s law firm, and he treated Georgia like shit. A few times I considered letting him in on a little secret: Georgia was way too fucking good for him. But I didn’t want to start shit that wasn’t my business. Luckily, she’s sm
art and dumped his ass.
“You ready to go?”
She takes a deep breath, then exhales harshly. “Yeah.”
We take an Uber to the club because I’m planning to drink, and when we arrive, since I’m friends with the guy at the door, we get right in without having to wait in line.
“What do you want to drink?” I ask her when we reach the bar.
Her brows furrow in thought. “A lemon drop, I guess.” She shrugs and squints, and I can tell she’s uncomfortable. But this will be good for her. She’s a young, single woman. She should be out having a good time, not cooped up in her room.
I shout our order to the bartender, and a minute later, he returns with my beer and her lemon drop. “Let’s go find the guys,” I tell her, handing her her drink.
As we make our way through the throng of people, several of them stop me to talk. Since my divorce last year, I’ve been making up for all the years I was home, trying to be a good husband. At first I was worried I’d run into Victoria at the clubs, but I’ve yet to see her since the day I picked up my shit. Given I agreed to what she wanted in the divorce, I had my attorney stand in my place to have it all finalized, and from what he told me, she had hers do the same.
I spot Carter and Luke, and grab Georgia’s hand to guide her over to them, so she doesn’t get lost in the crowd. Her hand is small inside mine, and I think about how long it’s been since I’ve held a woman’s hand. Victoria was never really the touchy-feely type, unless she wanted something, and the women I hook up with are just that—a hookup.
When I glance back at Georgia, she smiles weakly, looking completely out of her element, and I vow to show her a good time tonight, to make her see there’s more to life outside of her four safe walls.
“What’s up!” Carter yells over the music. He extends his hand and reluctantly I drop Georgia’s.
“Georgia, you remember Carter?” Carter works with me on the same shift at the fire station.
“Yes,” she says shyly, making him grin wide. In LA, we’re used to women who are coy or have an agenda. Almost all of them are here to be the next big model or actress, and they’ll soak up attention anywhere they can get it. A woman who is genuinely sweet and innocent like Georgia is rare.
“Nice to see you again,” Carter says with that look in his eye he gets when he’s interested in a woman. “Would you like to dance?”
At his bluntness, Georgia’s eyes comically bug out. “Oh…umm…”
“We just got here,” I cut in. “We’re going to have a seat for a few minutes.”
Georgia smiles up at me, liking that idea, and the way she looks at me like I’m some sort of white knight has me chugging my beer. Georgia is off-limits. For one, she’s Alec’s best friend, and he would kill me for going there. But also, I have no desire to settle down. I was tied down for twelve years, and look how that worked out for me. I just don’t think I have it in me to give myself over to another woman. And Georgia is the kind of woman who deserves it all.
We slide into the booth, just as Luke and Scott walk over, each with a beer in their hands and a woman tucked under their arms. Both of them work the same shift as Alec, Carter, and me. Since we all have the same days off, we’ve gotten close. There’s one other guy, Thomas, who works with us as well, but he’s married with kids.
“Georgia… Luke and Scott,” I tell her, ignoring the women. They won’t be with them tomorrow, so there’s no point in introducing them.
“Nice to see you again,” she tells both of them, taking a sip of her drink.
“You too,” they both shout over the music. Luke’s eyes meet mine, and his brows go up in a silent question. I shake my head, and he nods with a laugh.
The guys all excuse themselves to go dance, leaving Georgia and me at the table alone. “Is your drink good?” I ask, making conversation.
“Yeah. If you want to go dance or whatever, you can.”
“Nah, I’d rather chill with you.” I shoot her a playful wink and her entire face turns pink. Fuck, she’s adorable. “So, tell me about you.”
“You know me.” She laughs, bumping my shoulder with hers. The sound shouldn’t affect me the way it does, hitting me straight in the chest. It’s genuine and sweet. No motives behind it.
“Yeah, I know you, but I don’t know you. Aside from the fact that you do web design for a living, I don’t really know anything else.”
She thinks about this for a second. “That’s really all I do,” she admits, so softly that if I wasn’t sitting so close to her, I wouldn’t have heard her. “I design websites for different businesses, maintain them… I do some graphic design…”
“What do you do for fun?”
Her eyes meet mine, and her pink lips form a frown that has me wanting to put a smile back on her face. “I guess nothing,” she says, lifting her cup and downing the rest of her drink. She cringes as she swallows, then sets the glass down. “I had this plan,” she admits. “Well, Lexi and I had this plan… We were going to find our perfect paths.”
I want to laugh at that. I learned a long time ago there’s no such thing as perfect, but from what I’ve seen, Georgia, Lexi, and Alec were raised in a sheltered, cushy life, so it makes sense she would believe perfect exists.
Not wanting to jade her with my truth, I keep my thoughts to myself. “And how’s that going?”
“Lexi found hers. She and Alec fell in love and got married and had Abigail…” She smiles brightly, genuinely happy for her sister. “And she found her calling with Through Their Eyes.”
Through Their Eyes is an art gallery that’s set to open soon. It’ll help raise money for autistic children and adults, focusing on those who are low income or homeless.
“You’re the reason Through Their Eyes even exists,” I point out. Georgia inherited an oil company from her biological father who died when she was little. She sold it for millions of dollars, making her a millionaire at twenty-one years old. You would never know it, though, when you’re around her. Especially since she still works like she needs the money—something I respect the hell out of her for.
“I provided the money, sure,” she says. “But the rest is all Lexi. From the second I shared my idea with her, she made it her own, which is what I wanted. That gallery is going to do amazing things for a lot of people.”
“But…” I prompt, sensing one coming.
“It’s hers, not mine. She found her path, but I haven’t found mine. And since she moved out, I haven’t really been looking.”
“What interests you? Besides web design.”
She ponders my question for a few seconds. “I like reading… and watching cooking shows,” she says with a laugh. “And eating.”
“So, you should try cooking.” I cringe when I say the words, thinking about all the times her sister tried to cook and the fire department was called because of the smoke alarm going off. Hopefully being a horrible cook doesn’t run in their family.
As if she can hear my thoughts, she laughs. “I’ve cooked a few times with my mom and I’ve never burned anything.” She winks, actually fucking winks, and my dick flexes in my pants. My guess is there’s more to Georgia, but she hasn’t allowed her true self to come out.
“Then you should definitely cook. I can be your taste tester.” I can’t even remember the last time I had a home-cooked meal, aside from the food the guys grill at the station. I can’t cook for shit, and Victoria would never even attempt it.
“What else?”
“I don’t know. I guess it’s something I need to think about.”
“Well, while you’re thinking, what do you say we dance?” I stand and extend my hand.
“I don’t know…” She eyes my hand speculatively.
“C’mon,” I push. “We’ve danced together before and I was a complete gentleman.”
“All right,” she says, giving in and placing her hand in mine.
As I escort her to the middle of the dance floor, I push away any thoughts of how perfect her
hand fits in mine, wondering what the hell I’m doing.
Georgia
What the heck am I doing? One minute, I was updating a website, considering if I should order Chinese or Thai, and the next, I’m at a club, talking to Chase about my path. And now, I’m in his freaking arms, dancing with him to some old Jason Derulo song.
I’m so out of my element here. I can feel the panic attack creeping up, and I mentally beg it to stand down. My body and mind are confused, wondering what the hell I was thinking coming here—without Lexi, no less. She’s the only person who really knows me, knows every one of my weird quirks, and doesn’t judge me for them.
I’m not good at this—being in public, peopling. That’s Lexi, she’s the life of the party. And I’m good at standing behind her.
“Hey,” Chase says to get my attention. “You okay?” He has his arms wrapped around my waist, and we’re swaying to the music. He’s so confident in everything he does. So good at fitting in.
When I don’t answer quickly enough, he pulls me off the dance floor and over to a small, darker corner away from everyone. “Georgia, what’s wrong?” he asks. “Your heart…” He presses his palm to my chest. “It’s beating so hard.”
That’s because I’m in the middle of a panic attack. Because I’m a freaking loser and can’t handle being in crowded places.
I try to open my mouth to explain, but I can’t speak. I’m too worked up. From the outside, I look like a normal woman standing close to a man, but on the inside, my heart is thumping in my throat. It’s hard to catch my breath. Tears are burning behind my lids. I close my eyes, trying to calm myself down, but it only makes it worse when memories from when I was younger surface, like they always do. Of my biological father yelling at me and throwing me in my room because I was crying for my mom. Of me being forced to stay there for days, by myself, all alone. Begging my grandmother to let me out while he was at work. I didn’t know where my mom was at the time, but I knew she wasn’t there with me.
