by L. L. Ash
“You look beautiful,” he said, smiling his nice, friendly grin at me.
I took the flowers and gave them the obligatory smell before thanking him and taking them to the kitchen. I kind of hated roses, but he didn’t know that yet.
When I came back, there was that awkward moment of what to do. He leaned in, as if he was going to kiss me, then sort of did a half hug gesture, then settled for a kiss on the cheek.
“Shit, this isn’t going according to plan,” he admitted with a nervous chuckle as we went down the stairs together.
“All you need to do is pull out the massage table, and we’ll know what to do,” I told him.
He smiled, but it was husky and sexy.
“That we do,” he agreed, shoving his hands into his pockets until we got to his car.
“You have a favorite restaurant?” he asked, opening the side seat door for me. “I know literally nothing about LA.”
“You like Mexican?” I asked back, slipping into my seat.
“Mmmm,” he hummed right before closing the door.
Jamie made his way around to his own seat and got in.
“Mexican sounds awesome,” he agreed, shoving the key into the ignition.
“I’ll lead you there,” I told him while he pulled out. “Take a left out of the parking lot.”
We got onto the road in complete silence, and the awkward didn't get any better the longer we drove. When we pulled into the parking lot to the restaurant, Jamie threw the car into park and shoved his hand through his hair.
“Fuck it,” he breathed, then turned to me.
He looked almost frantic and afraid as he blew out a breath through his nose.
“This is really awkward, and I get it,” he said, the fear bleeding out and off his face as he rubbed his eyebrows nervously. “I’m sure you have a shitload of questions, so let’s get it over with.”
I blinked at him, not entirely sure what to say.
Actually, I knew exactly what to say, and it came out in the form of a question.
“Did you really move to LA for me?”
He blew out another long breath and rested his head against the headrest behind him.
“That’s the question, huh?” he asked, almost to himself.
He considered it for a moment, then shook his head.
“You’re one of the reasons, I’ll admit,” he said finally, quietly so I had to lean in to hear him. “But if you told me you never wanted to see me again, I’d still be here. I needed a fresh start from Hawaii and this place is as good as any.”
His pink tongue peeked from between his lips as he wet them, then he turned to me.
“But I’ll also admit that I chose LA because of you. As creepy and sadistic as this sounds, there’s something about you that’s been...fuck. It’s been messing with my head for weeks. Every time I have my hands on a client, I can’t help but think of you. I look out at the ocean and think of you. I'd go on my normal hike, that you didn’t even go on with me, by the way, and I couldn't stop fucking thinking about you. It’s maddening! But there it is, tattooed onto my brain. There’s something about you that’s different and that makes my breath catch. You’re beautiful, charming, sweet, and the conversations we’ve had since you left have been what’s kept me sane. I would have hated myself if I didn’t at least give this a try and see where it goes, if you’re up to it.”
His words were equal parts scary and awe inducing.
Nobody had ever done something so...incredible for me before. But why?
I mean, I knew why, but why?
“Why, Jamie? There’s nothing special about me. I’m just another girl.”
He scoffed.
“You’re not just a regular girl, Ivory. You’re you.”
Dammit with my pattering heart at the romantic sentiment.
His body jerked toward me just a little, as if he was fighting with himself, then his tongue ran over his lips again like a nervous gesture.
He wanted to kiss me. I could see it in his mossy eyes.
Throwing all caution to the wind, I leaned forward and gave him what he wanted; what my body was screaming for, too.
My eyes almost rolled into the back of my head as we kissed over the console. A simple touch that reinforced everything he’d said to me.
Normally, I was cautious of people, but my gut told me he was alright. He was ok. Jamie was a good man, and I would be lucky to have him.
Hunter.
Fuck you, Hunter, you don’t get to have my brain space right now.
The kiss was over way too soon, but he pulled away and touched my cheek with his warm fingers.
“We need to take this slow, for both our sakes. But damn, if I don’t just want to kiss you and take you to bed on our first date.”
I gave a choking laugh, which made him smile. It was a beautiful smile.
“Let’s get on with it then,” I told him. “The first date awkwardness won’t start without us.”
Jamie laughed and opened his door.
Guilt settled along with joy in my belly. I loved being with Jamie, but thoughts of Hunter prevailed despite how much I tried to rid myself of them. He was a user, and he’d proven as much to me yesterday when Jamie showed up. But I didn't want to be used.
Following Jamie into the restaurant, holding his hand the whole time, I tried just to focus on him. He had a little studly gait to his walk, and his hands were warm and strong. God, I could remember already what they felt like all over my skin. Maybe he’d give me a massage for free? You know, if I gave him a happy ending?
I laughed quietly to myself and he gave me a knowing look.
“Keep your mind out of the gutter, girl. This is only date one.”
That just made me laugh harder.
“Are you easily offended by gutter talk?” I asked, sitting beside him in the waiting area while they readied a table for us.
He leaned in and whispered into my ear, “my mind lives in the gutter, but you make me want to be a better man. In public, anyway.”
Heat flushed up my cheeks and he smiled smugly at having gotten me to blush.
Well, maybe Jamie was going to be a bit much for me to handle, after all. That was alright though. I was game.
- 44 -
Hunter
“Ok, explain to me what the fuck happened,” Gauge demanded as he cleaned up at the sink in the back of Mac’s shop.
I looked at the car we’d just finished and frowned.
“Some dickwad from Hawaii just stalker/killer followed her here. She gave the dude her address. Our address. Can you believe that? She met the guy twice, while he was massaging her, by the way, and suddenly he’s here and she doesn’t think anything weird about it.”
“He just showed up out of nowhere? And why did she give him her address?” Gauge looked hella confused, and I didn’t blame him.
I was confused, too.
“They’ve been talking since we went there, evidently.”
“And? How does she feel about it?”
I shrugged.
“Dammit, Hunt. Have you even talked to her?”
“No. And I’m not going to. If psycho, killer boy wants her and she wants him back, who am I to stand between their unconventional love?”
Gauge wiped his hands on the grease-stained towel over the big, curved silver faucet and growled.
“How the fuck do you plan on ever having a real relationship with this girl if you can’t even tell her what you’re feeling? You do know that’s how people communicate, right? By talking, not fucking.”
My lips thinned at the intended smear.
“Well pardon me. I always thought body language made up a majority of our communication,” I countered.
Gauge blinked for a second, then gave an impressed nod.
“You’re not wrong, to be honest,” he agreed. “Thing is, girls have emotional needs as well as physical ones. Not everything can be solved with the horizontal tango. You need to use that other percentage to flap your mout
h open and closed. That’s how we make words. You know how to do that, right?”
Other than the fact that I was literally doing exactly that?
I rolled my eyes and turned away, wiping at the hood of the minivan again.
“Leave it alone, ok?” I said finally, just feeling fucking exhausted all of a sudden. “It’s bad enough watching her come home from dates and seeing her lips swollen and pink like she’s been making out with a jellyfish. Ivy doesn’t want me, and she’s made that super fucking abuntantly clear. Twice over, now.”
“You don’t know that—”
“I do, Gauge,” I said, my voice sounding more defeated than I’d hoped. “Ivy is a user, and she pulled me on her string.”
Again.
“But you’re in love with her.”
“Does it matter? Can’t have a relationship with only one willing party.”
Gauge sighed and swiped the towel out of my hand.
“Go, get cleaned up. I’ll finish closing up shop.”
Mac’s was still one of the shining lights in my whole life. I’d known Mac since I moved to LA, and I’d gotten a job the first semester of freshman year. He kept me on track, and too busy to feel bad for myself, most of the time. In return, I was never late, I stayed overtime more often than not, and I made sure that his customers were happy and got top notch work.
Gauge had gotten me the job though, originally. Something about his dad’s cousin’s friend’s neighbor needing some kids to help around the shop. I’d learned a lot over the past couple years, and he’d given me a career opportunity, if I chose to take it. Either that, or some practical experience for my mechanical engineering degree.
Obeying Gauge, since I was dragging my tired butt by that point, I changed out of my coveralls and slipped on a hoodie before heading home. Just as I started pulling away, the garage doors closed and the lights flipped out.
I didn’t bother getting dinner on the way home like I usually did since I knew there was half a pizza in the fridge with my name on it. Forcing my tired legs up the stairs, my backpack weighed heavy with school books and homework that I’d have to manage before bed. I shoved my key in the door, hearing the soft droning of the TV on the other side.
So Ivy was home.
Swinging it open, I found out that Ivy wasn’t the only one in my living room.
“The fuck is he doing here?” I demanded, looking pretty stalker boy over.
They tore apart, obviously having been macking on each other on my couch, in my apartment.
With my girl.
My molars ground as I waited for an answer.
None came.
“I think we got off to a bad start,” psycho pants said, standing up and holding out his hand.
The hand that was on Ivy’s thigh two seconds ago.
I stared at it, then looked up at him with a glare.
“Get out of my fucking house.”
He blinked in surprise.
“What the hell? ” Ivy demanded, standing now, too.
“I want this stalker freak out of my house,” I told her, meeting her scowl for scowl.
“This is my house, too,” she countered.
“I’m the one who pays rent, and you don’t see me bringing my conquests here so that you can watch me petting them on the couch.”
Douche canoe’s face screwed up like I was saying something unsavory, but he was the one with his hands on her.
“I’ll leave,” he started saying, and I almost wanted to give him a high-five for getting it through his stuipid-pretty head that he wasn’t welcome.
“No,” Ivy said deadpan. “Hunter was just going to the back. We can finish our movie, then you can go.”
He sucked in his lips, turning his eyes to me and flicking his gaze back and forth as Ivy and I had a stare-off.
“Ivy,” I finally growled, “you know better than to test me.”
Her pink little tongue peeked out to lick her lips and fuck me, but I took a step closer to her. I missed her taste and her body and her laugh, but she smelled like him. It was a harsh reminder of how she’d pulled away the past couple weeks.
“You don’t get to act like this,” she said finally, gulping, but refusing to back up, because she had a spine made of steel.
My gaze flicked back to dickwad beside her, and he just looked plain shocked now.
“Fuck you,” I breathed, feeling my heart squeeze and bleed in my chest the same as it did back when she’d admitted to using me to those girls in junior high. “You can get out, too.”
Those words were sharp on my tongue, but nothing was as cutting as the look of shock and hurt that morphed her face. Ivy sucked in a harsh breath and looked me in the eyes.
She saw what she was looking for, that I was dead fucking serious.
Something hardened right over her face and I watched my sweet Ivy bleed away, replaced by the cold, hard bitch I knew she could pull out when she needed to.
Her mom had taught her that neat trick.
“C’mon, let’s go,” Ivy’s new boyfriend said, putting his arm around her shoulders and leading her toward the door.
“Give me a minute,” she told him in little more than a whisper.
He looked up at me, his face totally hard and unfriendly for the first time before he nodded at Ivy and left out the front door with a death glare my way.
The moment the door closed behind him, all I saw was a blur as Ivy’s hand came up and slapped the hell out of my face.
“Really?” she demanded, her face turning red with anger. “You’re kicking me out?”
“What the hell am I supposed to do?” I demanded, not even caring about the sting on my cheek, because the fucking hole in my chest hurt so much more. “You moved in here, knowing what we were, what we were doing, and what? This guy shows up into town and you just discard me like I’m fucking nothing?”
She scoffed.
“Right. I’m so sorry. I forgot about the whole friends with benefits thing we had going on. My bad. Was your dick feeling left out? I hate to tell you this, but I’m not just my vag, Hunter. You’ve had all this time, and you’ve done nothing. You speak out of one side of your mouth, but your actions prove otherwise. You don’t want to be my friend, you want full, free access to easy pussy. Admit it! Just like you did in junior year, and just like you dropped my ass eight years ago.”
“Because you were acting like a total cunt, just like you are now.”
Holy hell.
I couldn’t believe those words left my idiotic mouth.
She gave a disbelieving scoff, then brushed right past me.
I heard things slamming around inside her room, then she strode toward the front door.
“You get your wish,” she said, her voice catching harshly with what sounded like tears. “I’m gone. I’ll be back for the rest of my shit later.”
Shit...I didn’t really want her to leave.
“Ivy—”
The door slammed closed behind her and I was left in silent agony.
With a raging roar of frustration, I slammed my fist on the closed door and clenched my jaw until it started to creak.
“Fuuuuuck!”
Everything inside me wanted to fucking scream and rage and tear the building down around me, but I couldn’t.
I did this.
I pushed her away.
She was gone because of me.
I pressed my back to the wall and sank to the cheap, laminate flooring.
God, I was such an idiot.
Righteous anger or not, I had to fix it.
I had to…
- 45 -
Ivory
“What crawled up his ass?” Jamie asked as I stormed out into the stairwell.
“Hunter is an asshole,” I said simply, lugging my bag over my shoulder.
“You’re seriously letting him kick you out?” he asked, looking the bag over before turning his eyes up to mine. “Where are you going?”
“I don’t know,” I admitted. “H
illary’s, probably. If her roommate lets me stay.”
His eyebrows drew together and he stopped just at the bottom of the stairs.
“Stay with me,” he said in a quiet voice. “Stay tonight, and maybe he’ll pull his head out by morning.”
Hunter wouldn’t, but even if he did, I wasn’t going back.
Still, I would take the proffered hand that he so generously offered to buy me some time to make a proper plan.
“Ok,” I agreed, knowing that after our almost daily dates over the last two weeks, that this was going to be more than just a sleepover.
Jamie and I had almost as crazy chemistry as Hunter and I did. Only thing was, our chemistry didn’t boil over and blow up in my face every two seconds.
“You sure?”
“Of course I’m sure,” he agreed. “Do you want to follow me or ride in my car?”
“I’ll follow you,” I told him, not ready to be at his mercy without a way to leave if I needed to.
He went to his car and I went to Baby, sliding into the cracked vinyl seats before I took a steadying breath.
I wanted so much more than this between me and Hunter, but he’d just nailed his coffin shut, and I was so fucking done with him.
Swallowing back my tears, I managed to follow Jamie across town and into the wealthier part of Hollywood. We pulled into a big, rich-looking gated community, and my stomach dropped.
This was where he lived?
We wound around the large complex, then he pulled into a nice, but not overly castle-like house and pulled into the garage. Once he got out, he waved me in too. I pulled in after him, since there was nothing in there by way of possessions to fill up his three car garage.
Jamie rubbed at his head and looked uncertain as I slid out of my truck.
“This is a nice place,” I said, not sure how to break the ice that had somehow formed between us again.
“Thanks. I was kind of coming in here blind, so this place looked alright.”
Looked alright?
“It’s a little better than alright.” I chuckled, but my words seemed to make him more embarrassed.
“Hungry? I've got some leftover falafel in the fridge.”
The gummy bears we’d been snacking on at Hunter’s place before our awful fallout was sitting heavy now. I could go for some real food.
