“Hey, Tessa?” a male voice called out. A noisy clatter echoed through the room before someone stumbled into the bookshelf by my door, a few books dropping to the ground. “Holy cookies and cream! Is that a spider?”
Bang... Thud...
I bolted upright in my bed, my covers falling off of me. Whitney’s eyes widened as she woke, and I placed a hand on her arm to keep her still. Someone was in the apartment.
Wracking my brain, I tried to remember if I locked up when we returned.
“What kind of cookie dough booby trap is this? Why won’t the lights turn on?” the man yelled, followed by a strangled yelp and then a loud crash.
Jumping out of bed, I snatched my new umbrella off the carpet and yanked the bedroom door open only to gape at the scene in front of me.
Books scattered the floor, knocked over by the guy currently sprawled out on the stained orange carpet of my dimly lit living room. My bookshelf was now resting on its side, all of its contents, not just the books, dumped on the ground.
He started to get up, and I held my umbrella out sinisterly, as if it were a sword or other dangerous weapon. He ended up collapsing again, let out a pained grunt when his back hit the floor, and didn’t move to get up.
My hands shook with angry tremors as I glowered down at Oliver in fury.
His fearful green eyes, so much like Samantha’s, peered up at me in pain. “I think I got it.”
I gaped at him. “What?”
He glanced over at the bookshelf he’d knocked over onto the ground. “The spider. I think I got it.”
“Let me get this straight,” I began slowly, my eyes wide in disbelief. “You thought it was necessary to push over my bookshelf... to kill a spider?”
He didn’t respond right away, muttering about the carpet smelling just as horribly as he remembered, and began wiping his hands on his navy jeans. When he realized I was still waiting for him to respond, he stopped.
He ran a nervous hand through his hair and squinted around the room. “Well, it was a huge mother-pistachio.”
“Why the fuck are you in my apartment?” I hissed, still brandishing my umbrella.
Anger and confusion bubbled and boiled in my chest as I held back my anger. I didn’t care if he was Samantha’s nephew or Kai’s friend. He’d invaded my personal privacy by breaking into my home.
Pushing the bookshelf upright, he said, “The door was unlocked, and you weren’t answering your phone. Kai told me about when you fainted last week, and I worried—”
I smacked him with the umbrella. “Just because the door to someone’s place is unlocked does not give you the right to come in uninvited.”
He eyed my umbrella with more concern as I poked him in the chest with it. “I’m sorry,” he said, face ashamed, and a piece of gum peeked out from between his white teeth. He groaned and rubbed his hands down his face before meeting my eyes again. “I’m Oliver, by the way.”
Abandoning the umbrella on the floor, I picked up a thick volume from the battleground of books and whacked him with it.
“Oh, shi—mint chocolate chip, that hurt!” He rubbed his arm with tattooed fingers.
“This is how it’s going to work, Oliver,” I growled. “Whitney and I are going to finish getting ready, and you are going to finish picking up the mess you made in our living room.”
Oliver gulped but nodded, his green eyes on the heavy book still clutched in my hands.
I marched back into my room and slammed the door.
What had I gotten us into?
Fifteen minutes later, after the muffled sound of Samantha yelling at Oliver had stopped, Whitney and I moseyed down to the café. Oliver, red-faced, led us out to a black SUV parked at the curb. Was it the same one Ace drove when we met? The engine purred, and I was about to scold Oliver for leaving his car unattended when the driver’s side door opened.
Ace appeared from the car, turning to face us. He wore another crisp, blue button-up shirt tucked neatly into dark jeans. His arctic gaze softened as he took me in, heating my skin despite the October morning chill.
When we stopped in front of him, he smiled at us before squatting down in front of Whit. “You must be Whitney,” he guessed in his smooth baritone. He held out his hand. “I’m Ace. Thanks for showing us around today. Oliver over there was trying, but he kept giving us wrong directions. I think we’d get awfully lost without your help.”
Whitney grinned up at him as she shook his hand like they were making a business deal. “Don’t worry. I won’t let you get lost.”
He chuckled, stood up, and winked at me. My heart pulsed unevenly as we both looked the other over.
He swept his arm toward the car. “Should we get going, then?”
Chapter 8
In the backseat, I sat quietly next to Whitney, peeking at Ace out of the corner of my eye. He drove carefully, his eyes barely straying from the road as we traveled the distance to the large shopping mall downtown. To my surprise, they actually let Whitney give them directions instead of using their GPS.
“So,” Ace began after Whitney directed us to the freeway. He turned down the volume of the music playing on radio so he could hear us better. “What’s your guys’ story?”
“What do you mean?” I picked nervously at my faded black T-shirt.
“Just tell us about yourself.” He glanced my way momentarily. “What are your likes, your interests, your dreams?”
I sighed. I knew it was just polite conversation to get to know the people you were spending time with. It was even what friends did, but I wasn’t really feeling up to it. Luckily, Whitney was.
“I’m almost nine,” she said. “My birthday’s next month, and I’m going to have a fairy-tale party. You can come if you want?”
Oliver turned around to grin at her and popped a stick of gum in his mouth. “Do we get to dress up?”
She nodded enthusiastically. “Yep! You can dress however you want. As long as it’s fairy-tale themed. Maybe you could be a unicorn.”
The sides of Ace’s mouth turned up in the mirror, but he kept his attention on the road. “Sounds fun. We’ll have to see what we can do because I, for one, would love to see Oliver dressed as a unicorn.”
Whitney relaxed into her seat with a content smile. “I’m pretty excited.” She looked out the window at the streets we passed. “What are you getting at the mall?”
“We just need some clothes and a few other random things. If we don’t find something there, then we look somewhere else,” Oliver said.
“You’re not looking for something specific?” I asked while I had Whitney look to the side so I could French braid her hair. Just because I wore my hair in a messy bun on top of my head didn’t mean she had to look like a homeless person, too.
Oliver made an indifferent noise. “Kinda but not really. It’s just fun to go out and shop before a concert.”
I hadn’t ever been to one, so I couldn’t really say I understood.
“That reminds me,” Oliver said absentmindedly. “I think we’re out of liner.”
Liner? Like eyeliner?
“We should stop by a makeup counter and buy some.”
Well, I guess he answered that for me.
“I’m pretty sure Park has some still,” Ace said, following Whit’s directions for the large shopping mall downtown. “I ran out a few days ago.”
“Do you guys…” I paused, unsure how to ask this question without sounding completely rude. “Well, do you often wear eyeliner?”
Ace smirked, and Oliver snickered as he responded. “Yes. Is there something wrong with that?”
I frowned. “No, it’s just not too common for guys to wear it.”
“Makeup is for whoever wants to wear it,” Whitney piped in as I finished off her braid.
I patted the top of her head. “You’re right, Whit.”
Ace pulled into an underground parking lot for the mall. The sky was partly cloudy as we exited the garage together, Ace moving to stand on our left and Oliver on our right.
Their close proximity made me feel like I was buzzing.
Seriously, did a radioactive bee sting me yesterday? At this rate, I was going to be the new superhero, Bee Woman.
A few shoppers passed us on our way in, but for the most part, the mall was fairly empty for a Saturday. The smell of pretzels and teriyaki wafted over my nose as the three of us made our way past the food court, and my stomach rumbled with a vengeance that was embarrassing.
Ace noticed me eyeing the food court and grinned. “Hungry?”
Did I have any leftover money in my wallet to splurge on the food here? Or did we use all of it on ice cream? I should probably play it safe because I didn’t know how much I was going to have to pay for my outfit. Unless Whitney was hungry, I would just wait.
“No, I’m okay.” I directed my attention away from the food and onto the various shops lining up across the mall. “Where are we going?”
Oliver pointed to a stylish boutique halfway down the row of shops and grabbed Whitney’s hand. “Let’s start there.”
The mannequins in the storefront window showed off edgy shirts and items, and my eyebrows inched up my forehead. It surprised me they were interested in this store; it seemed pretty tailored to women. Was he sure about this one?
I followed him in anyway, and Ace trailed in tow. One of the workers sauntered over and smiled at us, her brown eyes checking the boys out with apparent interest.
“Can I help you find anything?” she asked in a low purr, a toothy grin on her face.
I rolled my eyes at her suggestive flirting. Yes, your subtlety.
“Yes.” Oliver casually put his arm around my shoulders while the other still held Whitney’s hand. His breath smelled of sweet mint, making me relax into his touch. The radioactive bee was back, and I just about sank to my knees as the buzz fluttered over my skin. “We need something appropriate for all of us to wear to a concert. Nothing too daring but still flashy.”
Wait. All of us?
“Hm.” She tapped her chin with long, acrylic nails. “I think I know just the thing.”
She and Oliver left us to scavenge around the store. Ace and I watched them either nod or shake their heads at certain items, and I grimaced at the large amount of clothing they carried. They snatched clothes off of the shelves, from the clothing racks, a mannequin’s body... The lady even went as far as to go to the back room and bring out clothes from their most recent shipment.
Whitney roamed around the aisles, searching through the juniors section for items to try on.
I won’t panic. No, we’ll be fine. As long as we didn’t buy anything, we would be okay money-wise. But if Whit found something she liked, I would have a hard time saying no.
Oliver returned a short while later with a ridiculous selection of clothes for both men and women, and I scowled.
“I don’t need any of that.” I pointed my chin at the clothes.
He rolled his eyes. “Then just try them on for fun. It won’t be fun if you’re just waiting for us.”
Fun. If it was just for fun, it would be okay, right?
Whitney held a couple hangers of bright, neon clothes in her hands, and I barely managed to hold back my groan.
Her smile was contagious as she flounced over to us with her finds. “I wanna try these on.”
The worker from earlier came over to direct her to a changing stall. I sent Oliver a hot glare as I snatched the pile obviously meant for me out of his arms and followed Whitney and the lady over to the stalls. She let me take the stall next Whitney’s while Oliver occupied the one beside mine.
After placing the clothes on the small bench in the stall, I noted Oliver had grabbed several different sizes for each item. I picked up a shirt and read the price tag. Grimacing, I dug through the pile until I found some decently priced blouses in my size.
“Let me know how these work out or if you need another size,” the worker called from outside my door.
I didn’t respond, my throat too constricted from stress.
Deep breaths, Tessa. You don’t have to buy them.
I changed into a simple black shirt and dark jeans before I peeked out of the dressing room. Oliver, clothed in a sage-green hoodie, stood in front of a mirror outside the dressing rooms.
Glancing around him, I didn’t see Ace anywhere. “Where did Ace go?”
Oliver shrugged. “He said he needed to grab something.” He stopped and looked me up and down. “Oh, no, that won’t do.”
He slid past me into the dressing room, and I quickly glanced around to make sure no one saw him and got the wrong idea. “Oliver, what are you—”
“These ones,” he interrupted, holding up a black off-the-shoulder top and black studded jeans. I’d seen them earlier in the pile but had already decided they were too far out of my price range.
“I love them.” I bit my lip. “But I can’t afford them,” I admitted in embarrassment.
“That won’t be a problem.” He tossed the outfit into my arms.
“Um, it will be a problem when I don’t have enough money for them at the checkout.” I shoved the clothes back into his arms.
“Tessa, come on.” Oliver sighed, a small smile lifting the corners of his lips. “Did you really think we were going to have you pay?”
“Well, why wouldn’t I?” Of course I was going to pay for my own clothes.
He shook his head. “Because we invited you out today. I’m not a complete praline pecan to make you pay for something you probably don’t need.” Scratching the back of his neck, he shot me a lopsided grin. “Besides, it’s the least I could do after earlier. My aunt chewed me out and said I needed to make it up to you or else you’d never date me. I think she’s already plotting us being together.”
Ignoring the part where Sam was apparently scheming to set us up, I stared at him. “If you didn’t think it was necessary to buy these clothes, then why did you invite us?”
His cheeks tinged pink, and he stuffed the clothing back into my arms again. He opened the dressing room and looked over his shoulder at me. “Because, the moment I saw you in that café, I knew—it was necessary to get to know you.”
He closed the door on my stunned face, and I just stood there gaping at the door like an idiot. Had he really thought that?
Holding up the clothes he’d stuffed in my arms, I sighed. They were really cute. Trying them on, I was shocked at the sight of the person in the mirror.
Her cheeks appeared rosy, a subtle glow emanating from her skin. The black top accentuated her collarbones and shoulders while the dark jeans helped her legs appear long and toned. She appeared almost... radiant.
She almost didn’t look like me.
Whitney giggled from the stall next to me, and I ducked my head out of mine, successfully smacking Oliver in the back of the head with my door.
“Ugh,” he groaned, cradling his head in his hands.
“Oh, are you okay?” I asked, confused as to why he was standing in front of my door in the first place.
He gave me a thumbs-up, but his eyes still watered. “Yep,” he croaked out. “Never better.”
Whitney popped out of her stall, wearing a flashy purple shirt with dozens of rhinestones overwhelming the fabric. She reminded me of a purple disco ball.
“Please, can I get it?” she begged me, hopping up on her tiptoes. Every move blinded me with the glittering stones. “Please, please, please?”
Tears threatened to fill my eyes, unsure how to tell her we couldn’t afford it, when Oliver placed a hand on my shoulder.
“Sure thing, doll,” he said.
I sent him a quick scowl, but he shook his head reassuringly.
He mouthed, “It’s okay.”
I still wasn’t comfortable with it, but seeing the excitement on Whitney’s face was enough to make me cave.
“Yay! Can I wear it now?”
“We can go pay for it now so you can wear it out.” He snatched up her hand to take her to the register. “I really do like that outfit, Tess.
Bring it to the register once you’ve changed.”
Now I was Tess, huh?
I watched them go with a scowl. On one hand, I knew it wasn’t that big of a deal if they bought us something, but on the other, I thought it was strange to accept something from these guys whom I knew very little about. I wasn’t one to go spend unnecessary money. Mainly because I never really had extra money to spend.
I changed quickly, noting the cost of the clothes with a cringe. Well, if he was sure, then whatever. He really had pissed me off earlier.
They waited by the checkout, and Ace was back, holding a couple small, black bags in his hands. He smiled when he saw me and looked down at the clothes I held.
“You found something you liked, then?” He took the outfit from me.
“Yes,” I said with a nod. “Thank you so much.”
“Of course, love.” He smiled, his blue eyes warming and making my heart do little somersaults.
He reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet. He then proceeded to hand the cashier a black credit card, and I couldn’t help but stare. Weren’t those only for very wealthy people? I hadn’t ever seen one in real life before.
Noticing how I ogled it, Oliver chuckled. “Ace comes from a pretty rich family.”
“Shut it, Ollie,” Ace muttered.
With a giddy grin, Whitney twisted her torso this way and that, watching how the light reflected off her shirt.
While we finished up at the checkout, my stomach rumbled.
Ace smirked and placed his credit card back into his wallet. “I’m hungry. Food’s on me.”
“More like ‘food’s on mommy and daddy,’” Oliver mumbled under his breath.
Ace glared at him. “You know, I changed my mind. Food’s on Ollie today.”
He walked out of the store and started for the food court.
“Wait! Oh, vanilla fudge. I was just teasing, Ace!”
Fifteen minutes later, the four of us sat around a table eating a variety of foods—Oliver’s treat.
Whitney dug into her teriyaki bowl with fervor, probably burning her tongue if the steam blowing off her food gave any indication as to the temperature. She was now adorned with glittery bangles and necklaces, thanks to Ace. Even though I thought it was all a bit excessive, I kept my mouth shut. She deserved this.
Lonely Lullaby Page 6
