by Sophie Stern
Just one more nightmare.
Just one more thing to deal with.
I took the steps to the front door two at a time, and then I turned on my phone so I could use the light to see in my bag. My keychain was somewhere at the bottom. Since I’d walked that day instead of driving, I’d left my car keys at home. I walked as much as I could to save the environment and all of that good stuff, and I never really saw the point in dragging my car keys around when I wasn’t actually in the car. I spotted my house key at the bottom of the bag and I reached for it, but that was when it hit me.
I wasn’t alone.
I smelled him before I saw him. Dark, sultry, smooth. He was chocolate and coffee and naughtiness all wrapped up in one sleek suit. He didn’t belong on my porch. I didn’t know why he had come.
“Don’t scream,” Locke said casually. He was leaning against the wall beside the door. I had been so damn close to him and hadn’t noticed him at all. That was when it finally hit me just how tired and stressed I was. I was preoccupied. Thank goodness it was Locke on my porch. What if it had been someone else? What if it had been someone who wanted something really bad? Nausea swept over me. What if it had been someone who wanted to hurt me? I wouldn’t have known until it was too late.
Instead of screaming, and instead of feeling relief that it was only Locke, I decided to take the full bitch approach. I was tired, and I was emotionally drained, and I really didn’t want to deal with my emotions about this guy.
“What the fuck are you doing on my porch?” I snapped at him, glaring. I turned, giving him my complete attention. My backpack dropped onto the porch, and I set my phone down on it before standing back up and putting my hands on my hips. The entire thing was ridiculous. I knew that.
Even in the darkness, I could sense him raising an eyebrow, as if to ask me, “Whose house?” He didn’t say anything, though. He just stared at me: his eyes piercing mine. How the hell did he manage to do that? I had grown up in the damn trailer park, for fuck’s sake. I didn’t take crap from anyone...except him.
“Excuse me,” I mumbled, realizing that I’d lost the battle and he hadn’t even said a single word. There was a part of me that ached for him to think I was being good. Where had that urge come from? I wanted him to think I was a good girl, that I wasn’t the type of girl who went around causing trouble. “Locke...Mr. Locke,” I corrected myself before he did. “What are you doing here?”
“I’ve changed my mind about the money,” he said without hesitation. “I’d like it back.” He held out his hand, as though the money was just going to appear in it. Was he serious?
“You’ve...what?” I asked. It was a good thing it was dark outside because I guarantee all of the color had just faded from my face and disappeared.
“I’d like it back, please,” he said. “The money I gave you,” he added, as though I hadn’t heard him the first time. I stared at him for a minute, but he didn’t say anything else.
So he was serious.
I could lie to him, I realized. I could tell him that I’d bring it by his office the next day and then just not show up. I could say that my roommate had experienced some sort of personal emergency and that I’d chosen to help her out. I could say something like that, couldn’t I? But somehow, I thought that he was the kind of person who would just know. I got the impression that lying to him wasn’t going to work out in my favor.
“I don’t...I don’t have it,” I told him, exasperated. Maybe honesty was the best policy. Maybe it was going to bite me in the ass. I had no idea, but I was tired, and I wanted to go inside. I didn’t like how I felt around Locke. He made me uncomfortable, and horny, and neither of those was a good thing to be feeling right now. “What do you mean you want it back? You said you didn’t want that money.”
“I gave it to you, but I got the impression you didn’t actually appreciate it. I’d like it back.” Once again, his voice was even. He didn’t sound mad or excited. He didn’t sound like this encounter was making him aroused. Why the hell was I getting aroused? I hated – hated – the way that every time I was close to this guy, my panties started to feel wet. I hated how all I could think about was what it would feel like to be before him on my knees.
“What game are you playing?” I asked, shaking my head. “I don’t have it anymore.” It was on the tip of my tongue to tell him what happened to the money, but I didn’t. That was none of his business. It wasn’t his concern who I gave that money to or where I spent it. That was my money, as far as I was concerned. I might not have earned it, but he gave it to me fair and square.
“You want to play a game?” He said, stepping forward. “Is that it?” He mimicked his movements from earlier, invading my space, but this time, we were totally, completely alone. There were no secretaries who could walk in. There were no CEOs. It was only the two of us. The nighttime air surrounded us, begging us to follow our emotions in this moment. “Because I know more than a few games, little girl, and I don’t think you’re ready for them.”
“I’m not a little girl,” I protested, stomping my foot. Fuck. This was irritating. If he wasn’t my landlord, I would have pushed him away and hurried inside and away from him. Safety. I would have rushed to safety and to privacy. Okay, let’s be honest: I would have rushed inside and masturbated like crazy because he was driving me mad.
“Then why are you acting like a spoiled brat throwing a tantrum?” Again, his voice was even and level, but this time, there was just a hint of danger.
“What?” I opened my mouth, shocked. That time, I reached out and I did shove him away. The movement caught him off-guard. He was shocked, surprised even, and he stepped back hastily.
“I must say,” he said. “Your manners have reached an all-time low, Miss Key.”
“Locke,” I whispered, shaking my head. “What are you doing on my porch?”
“The money.”
“Is gone,” I said.
“Well, then,” he said. “I suppose you’ll have to think of a way to repay me.” His voice was sharp and there was irritation there. I didn’t miss it.
“Repay you?” Could my jaw open any wider? Shock and anger filled me. “You told me that money was a gift.”
“That money was a mistake.”
“Why did you even give it to me?” I shook my head again. “What are you doing here?”
“My office,” he said. “Tomorrow morning. Seven-thirty sharp. Don’t be late.” He turned and started to leave the porch. He made it two steps before he stopped and turned around. “Oh, and Paige?”
“Yes, Mr. Locke?” I breathed a sigh of defeat. I really couldn’t afford to piss him off anymore. Not if it meant him getting angry and kicking me out of the house. I couldn’t go live somewhere else. This was the most affordable and livable house I’d been able to find and it wasn’t like Fawn could afford to live there without me.
“Make sure you give my receptionist your real name this time.” He fucking winked at me. I could see it, even in the darkness, and then he was gone.
And I was alone.
I collapsed on the porch and wrapped my arms around my legs, pulling them close to my chest. What the hell had I gotten myself into this time? Another meeting with Locke? Right in a row? Why had he suddenly taken an interest in me? What did it matter?
And why, oh why, was I actually thinking about going?
I sat on the porch and cried, trying hard to stay silent as my tears slid down my cheeks. Then, just when I was about to start sobbing, the lights flickered and came back on.
“Oh, thank heavens,” one of my neighbors called into the darkness, but I just sat there.
Thank heavens, indeed.
Chapter 6
Paige
Long after Locke walked away, I sat on the porch. I had a new dilemma, and it was one that I couldn’t have imagined ever having to deal with. It was a problem that was strange and unusual. Nothing could have prepared me to deal with something like this.
He wanted me to be at
his office at seven-thirty.
In the morning.
He hadn’t bothered asking me if I had classes or work or other obligations during that time. Why would he? To Locke, I was nothing. Not important. My opinion didn’t matter. Not to him. I doubted that it ever would.
Still, the truth of the matter was that I didn’t have anything going on the next morning, so I could go, if I wanted to.
Did I?
Is that what I wanted?
I sat on the porch for a long time, just staring out into the darkness around me. The street lights were on, and the porch light had returned to life, as well. A couple of little bugs flickered around the light, trying to find some warmth. I ignored them. I had bigger fish to fry.
Locke had never been present in my life or in my routine, so why was he making himself known now? Why now, after all of this time? Why was he finding an interest in me?
I wasn’t anything special.
Not really.
I was just...me.
Soon even more bugs started to come out and because I didn’t feel like getting nipped at by mosquitoes, I reluctantly went inside. The heavy door creaked and I cringed, pausing for a second to make sure Fawn hadn’t woken up. Satisfied she was sleeping soundly, I finished going inside, closed the door, and went to the kitchen. I poured a glass of water, leaned against the fridge, and sipped it slowly.
Locke was a mystery to me.
He made me feel so many mixed emotions that I wasn’t even sure how to start processing them. He was hot and cold and sharp and soft and completely, totally beautiful. He was much more beautiful than a man should be: more beautiful than was fair. I didn’t consider myself to be ugly - not by any means of the imagination - but Locke was incredibly out of my league.
Like, from outer space.
That’s how far.
Still, the idea that he was interested in me suddenly was strange to me and a little exciting. I sipped my water and tried not to let my mind wander too much, but it was harder than it should have been.
Finally, I left my glass next to the sink, went into my room, and slid under the blankets. Getting off was inevitable. The entire day had been one whirlwind after another. It had been wild. I felt so many different emotions that I didn’t even know what to do. Still, one thing stuck with me: Locke.
I thought about his hands on my body. I thought about what it would feel like to have him touch me for real. I thought about what it might be like to have him wrap himself around me. I thought about all of that and more, and I touched every part of myself.
When I came, I tried to be as quiet as possible. The walls were thin, and I didn’t want to wake up Fawn, but fuck, if it wasn’t one of the best orgasms I’d ever had in my life. Would Locke and I ever fool around? I thought about it a lot. Ever since he’d come into the store, I couldn’t seem to stop thinking about it.
He had started something with me that night, I knew. We’d started some sort of dance, but there was a huge problem. Locke acted like he’d been taking dancing lessons his entire life, and I didn’t even know where to start. I was going to fall on my face, I knew, and the only person who was going to get hurt was me.
“WHERE ARE YOU GOING?” Fawn walked into the kitchen the next morning. I was leaning against the counter sipping a cup of coffee.
“I have a meeting,” I told her.
“Where?” She asked, raising an eyebrow. “You look really nice.”
“Thanks,” I said, setting down my coffee. “So why does that sound like an insult?”
Fawn only laughed. She pushed by me to open the fridge and pull out the orange juice. She got herself a glass and then looked back at me.
“You look fancy,” she said. “You aren’t headed to class. That’s for sure. Date?” She asked.
“At this hour? No,” I shook my head. “I’m going to meet with Locke.”
I wasn’t sure why I was telling her the truth except for the fact that I really, really didn’t want to get murdered, and somehow, the idea of being honest seemed better than telling her a lie. I didn’t want to be known as the liar roommate, and besides, Fawn wasn’t going to judge me. Was she?
“Okay,” she said slowly. “Why?”
“He was here last night.”
She spit out her orange juice.
“What? Where? Did you fuck?”
“No!” I screeched. “And I’m only telling you in case I disappear and don’t come back. If he murders me, someone should know.”
“What? Why me?” She shook her head.
“Because you’re the only one I have,” I told her.
“Why can’t you call your-“ She stopped herself before she said “mom,” but I still cringed. Yeah, that was a wound that was going to hurt for a long time. Fawn had the decency to blush. “Sorry,” she said. “Sometimes I forget.”
“It’s okay,” I said. “I do, too.”
It was horrible, but that was the hard part about dealing with death. Sometimes you were okay, and sometimes you weren’t. Sometimes everything seemed totally fine, and sometimes it seemed like the world was going to end.
There were days when I missed my mom so much that it hurt to breathe, and there were days when I barely thought about her at all. That was the burden of being one of the living. You were always carrying ghosts of the past.
“It’s fine,” I said again. Fawn still looked embarrassed, but she tried to push through the awkwardness of the moment.
“What are you going to say to him?” She asked.
“I have no idea.”
“What does he want you to come over for?”
“Again, I don’t know,” I said.
“Is it about the money?”
“Yes.”
“Shit.”
“Yeah.”
“He talked about it last night, huh?”
“Yeah, he said he wanted it.”
“So why didn’t you just give it back to him? I know there’s no way you spent it all,” she said, looking at me carefully. Fawn knew me much too well, I thought, considering we just lived together. We didn’t talk about money a lot. There was never really a reason to. As long as we each paid what we were supposed to, we were happy.
“I got rid of it,” I told her.
“What the fuck? Like you threw it away?” She shook her head. “Are you serious right now?”
“I was walking by a church on my way home last night,” I told her. “I donated it.”
“To a church?”
“Yeah.”
“On a whim?”
“Yeah.”
“Honestly, not a horrible idea,” Fawn shrugged. “You’ve had worse ideas.”
“You’re not opposed to churches?”
“Not so much. They do a lot of good,” she said. “The one on 17th Avenue has free lunch every Wednesday.”
“I didn’t know that.”
More importantly, I didn’t know Fawn was the kind of person who took advantage of free lunch. Maybe I misjudged her. I always kind of thought of her as a girl who had unlimited resources. Maybe I was wrong. She seemed to read my mind, because she smiled a little bit.
“Surprised?”
“Honestly? Yeah.”
“I grew up poor,” she shrugged. “I still have a hard time with money. My parents have a lot of it now, but they don’t exactly give me much. Not that I expect them to, you know. That’s their cash. They’re paying for school. Everything else, I kind of figure out on my own.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“I thought they paid your rent.”
“Nah,” she shook her head. “I just...”
“What?”
“Look, I don’t want you to pity me,” she said, looking up at me sharply. “I have some money saved up from when I worked and now I’m trying to make the most of everything that I’ve been given. I’ve taken out some loans, and I’ve saved a little. I’ve actually been looking for a job,” she added. “But I don’t know how to tell my folks. The fre
e lunch thing? It’s not a lot, but it helps. When you’re struggling, every little bit helps.”
“That makes me feel a lot better about giving it to the church,” I told her.
“They’ll use it for kids,” she said. “That’s all that matters.” Fawn looked at the clock and then back at me. “When are you supposed to meet him?”
“Soon,” I admitted.
“Then you should get going.”
“I will,” I said. “And Fawn?”
“Yeah?”
“Thanks for being honest.”
Chapter 7
Locke
She arrived right on time and was dressed to kill. It was a side of Paige Key I’d never seen before. She might have noticed me staring, but I covered my shock up quickly by grabbing a book and leafing through it, giving her the impression that I felt ambivalent about her wardrobe choice.
The reality?
I felt anything but ambivalent.
“Miss Key,” I said, putting the book down. “Nice to see you on time today.”
“Thanks,” she said, ignoring the fact that I was obviously insulting her. “And before you ask, I was honest with your receptionist downstairs. I even apologized for yesterday.”
“Good,” I said. “She was pissed to have gotten in trouble for that.”
“She got in trouble?” Paige had the decency to sound a little hurt by that. Was she wounded that someone else had been punished for her choices? Interesting. Most people didn’t care at all if someone else took the fall for what they did.
“Yes.”
“I’m sorry,” she whispered.
Paige stood in the center of my office wearing a white button-down blouse, a black pencil skirt, sandals with heels, and a bright red belt. Her hair was pulled back in a clip and she had light makeup on. Honestly, she looked quite lovely. She looked very beautiful. Pretty.
