Better Than Okay

by Jacinta Howard

  “All I know is that Static is so, so sexy,” Loud Girl said, injecting herself into the conversation. “Actually, Brian kind of looks like him.”

  Destiny looked up at her and felt her fork stab her enchilada. Loud Girl was smiling at Brian coyly and Destiny thought about violently hurling the fork at her like a ninja in one of those old school karate flicks she was always watching at Marsitas.

  “Nah, I don’t look anything like him.” Brian countered, chewing on a chip.

  “You definitely do. He is fine,” Loud Girl practically purred. She physically batted her eyelashes at him. “He is definitely a pretty boy.”

  Brian frowned silently and stuffed another large bite of food into his mouth.

  “What?” Destiny teased, her eyes wide. “You don’t enjoy being called a ‘pretty boy,’ Brian?”

  She knew how much it irritated him. He thought of it as an insult instead of a compliment, like being called a pretty boy was a testament to his character or something. He fixed a look on her and grinned lopsidedly.

  “I enjoy it about as much as you enjoy being called a ‘cutie pie,’” he said, his voice low.

  She felt her face flush and she took a sip of water. He chuckled. Loud Girl glared at her.

  “He does kind of look like Static, huh?” Pink Dress pressed, ignoring them as she openly admired his features.

  “Uh, I am sitting right here, woman,” Dorian said exaggeratedly, raising a finger.

  “Stop calling me ‘woman’,” Pink Dress insisted, scrunching up her nose.

  “What?” Dorian shrugged, raising his eyebrows in feigned innocence. “You are a woman, right?”

  “Yeah, but it’s offensive,” she said, looking to Loud Girl and then to Destiny for moral support, she assumed.

  “It is offensive,” Destiny spoke up. “You sound like a caveman.”

  “Kind of look like one too,” Brian smirked.

  Loud Girl cackled loudly and Destiny rolled her eyes. Inspired, Dorian immediately began beating his chest like an ape and Nathan started humming “In the Jungle.”

  “Ya’ll are defective,” Destiny said dryly as Pink Dress laughed, her temporary feminism forgotten at Dorian’s antics.

  “And why are you even singing ‘In the Jungle?’” she asked, frowning in confusion at Nathan. He shrugged, grinning.

  “Isn’t that a caveman song?” he asked, wrinkling his brow in consternation. He grinned. “Whatever, who cares.”

  He burst into song again, bobbing his head back and forth he sang. Clearly he’d had one too many margaritas. Destiny rolled her eyes and he threw another chip at her, hitting her in the forehead.

  “Ow!” she squealed. “You’ve been hanging around Dorian too long. It is not okay to throw stuff at me.”

  Brian pulled her chair closer to him. She looked at him surprised, nearly falling into his lap with the sudden movement. “Throw something else at her and see what happens,” he threatened lightly, grinning slightly.

  Nathan held his hands up in mock surrender, laughing. “Damn, B. I know you grew up together but I didn’t know you were like her protective older brother, too. I get enough of that from D.”

  Brian grinned again and popped another chip into his mouth. “Oh, I’m nothing like her brother.”

  Nathan laughed and downed the last of his margarita. Destiny’s face was on fire. She met his eyes briefly and he grinned at her.

  “Okay, we need another pitcher,” Dorian jubilantly declared.

  He jumped up and grabbed the empty margarita pitcher, heading for the kitchen. Pink Dress followed behind him. Nathan reached for the extra enchiladas that were on the platter in the middle of the table.

  “Time for round three,” he grunted, patting his flat abdomen.

  “I told you the other day on the phone that Mexican was a good choice, Brian,” Loud Girl said, smiling.

  She took a dainty sip of her drink and fixed her eyes on him. Destiny’s head jerked up. She bit her lip, her heart hammering in her chest. Did she really just say that? Loud Girl smiled and took another bite of her enchilada. She looked at Brian. His eyes were a mixture of fury and shock. She stared at him for a long second, then picked up her plate and pushed herself back from the table, heading for the kitchen.

  “Tweet, can you bring the sour cream back?” Nathan called to her, oblivious to the energy shift at the table.

  She nodded stiffly and willed her feet to move. She felt sick to her stomach. She rounded the corner to the kitchen. Dorian had Pink Dress pinned against the counter next to the sink, whispering something in her ear. Her arms were draped loosely around his shoulders. She put her plate in the dishwasher and quickly grabbed the sour cream off of the counter.

  She hurriedly walked back to the table and handed Nathan the sour cream. Loud Girl was still sitting there like she owned the place, chatting with Nathan. Brian caught her eye as she walked past him but she needed to get away from him as quickly as possible. She knew she couldn’t just go running out of the door like she had last time. So she headed for the second best place—the bathroom. She needed to get her breathing, heart, and stomach under control.

  She practically jogged toward the bathroom and shut the door behind her before she exhaled. What the hell was he doing talking to her on the phone? She bit her lip and sat down on the closed toilet seat, trying to think logically. Part of the reason she was so scared to get involved with Brian in the first place is because she knew his track record with women. They tended to be pretty damn disposable. He was never disrespectful to them. He always treated them really well whenever he was sharing their company, but he got bored easily and he knew it just as well as she did. The idea of him focusing on one woman for any extended period of time was something that he had just plain never done—except for his alleged relationship with Tamara.

  And now here she was, vying for his attention courtesy of Loud Girl. She felt stupid. He’d lied to her. She never should’ve gotten started with him in the first place. She shook her head and released a breath. She couldn’t hide out in the bathroom all night. Besides, it was starting to smell. She eyed the dirty towels crumpled in the floor and the hair in the sink from where one of them had shaved. She’d stay for another thirty minutes, and then she would just lie and say Gabe had texted her asking her if she could cover the Roc D show.

  She took another breath, smoothed her hair in the mirror and exited the bathroom. She started down the hall toward the noisy living room but felt a hand reach out and grab hers. She looked up. Brian didn’t say anything, just pulled her quickly into his room and shut the door again. This was getting ridiculous. She sighed and leaned against the door, staring at him. He stared back as he always did, silently forcing her to speak. It wasn’t working this time. She had nothing to say to him. A few long seconds passed, then a few more.

  “Did you yank me back here so you could stare at me, or do you actually have something to say?” she said finally, kicking herself for breaking her resolve.

  “This is so stupid,” he said emphatically, shaking his head.

  “Yes, it is, so let’s stop it now before we get in any deeper.” She pushed herself off of the door and turned to open it.

  He quickly crossed the room, placing his hands on either side of her shoulders. “I wasn’t talking about us, I’m talking about this as a whole,” he clarified.

  She could feel his presence against her back, his breath warm on her neck. She shook her head and turned to face him. She felt like she was in the middle of an episode of The Young and the Restless.

  “This is why I don’t like getting involved and why I especially didn’t want to do this with you, Brian,” she said, keeping her voice low. “It’s too much freaking drama, and hesitation, and tension, and jealousy, and confusion and just… shit.”

  She stared at him accusingly.

  “How long have you been seeing her, Brian? You’ve only been here like a week! And why in the hell would you let me come over here and then, like, say all of
that stuff to me when you knew she was going to be here too? Are you feeding your ego? I mean, I know you and Dorian get your kicks from being man-whores but you didn’t have to involve me in your games. You’re a liar and…”

  “Stop it,” he said forcefully, interrupting her, his voice low and severe. The muscles in his jaw were working and she knew him well enough to know he was really trying to control his temper.

  She blinked, her heart beating fast as he inched closer to her.

  “You know me, Destiny,” he said, his tone dark. “Don’t act like I’m some random guy. I shouldn’t have to defend myself to you of all people.”

  His eyes were furious, but she noticed that beneath the anger were traces of vulnerability.

  “Then why were you on the phone with her? Why does she have your number? Why are you talking to her?”

  He shook his head and dropped his arms. She still didn’t move.

  “Amber called Dorian, Tiffany got on the phone to give Dorian dinner suggestions and Dorian put it on speaker. We barely said two words to each other.”

  She stared at him. She did believe him. But this was still too much. They’d been involved as non-friends for all of three days and they’d already had two arguments.

  “This is still too much, Brian,” she said aloud, shaking her head. “You know she wants you.”

  “And I told you who I want,” he said irritably. “I want you.” He paused. “But that’s not enough for you, right? You’re too scared to even try to give this a legitimate chance.”

  “But she…”

  “Who cares about that girl?” he interrupted again, angrily. He released a quick breath and ran his hand over his head.

  “You can barely even admit you’re attracted to me, let alone talk for real about a relationship with me. You’re the one who wants us to keep pretending like we’re ‘buddies’.”

  He met her eyes, waiting for her to deny it, but she couldn’t. He shook his head and looked at the floor. When he looked up again his eyes were angry.

  “But then you get mad that some girl flirts with me? What did you expect me to do, Destiny? Tell her to stop it because she possibly, might be offending my home girl?”

  She shrugged, glaring at him. “You should’ve figured something out.”

  “You can be really immature sometimes,” he said flatly.

  “Immature?” she repeated, her voice rising. “How do you think it makes me feel to have to watch that?”

  “Like I said, what was I supposed to say or do? You don’t want me to claim you in private, let alone in public. How can I tell anyone else how I feel about you when you don’t even want to hear it?”

  “That’s not true,” she said stubbornly.

  “It is true, Destiny. You should see your face sometimes. You’re not ready to hear me say that when I’m around you I have to physically keep myself from touching you because practically everything you do and say turns me on. Or how sexy it is that you don’t even know how sexy you are. Or how cool it is that you actually say what’s on your mind, even when you don’t mean to. Or how adorable it is that you actually still blush. You’re not ready to hear me say that I think about you practically every second of the day to the point where I wonder if I’m going crazy because I know that being so immersed in someone can’t be normal.”

  She stared at him. Stunned.

  “I’m in love with you, okay? I love you. But you’re not ready for that either. Are you?”

  The air had evaporated from her lungs and she forgot how to breathe. He stared at her, his eyes full of anger and longing.

  “Exactly,” he muttered, turning around and pacing to the other side of the room away from her.

  She looked at him, finally able to push out a shaky breath. He was right. She wasn’t ready for that admission. It scared her to death. She shifted her weight, wishing she could disappear into the floor.

  “I have to… I should probably go,” she said softly, not meeting his eyes.

  “Then go,” he said, his voice expressionless.

  She looked up. He’d seated himself on the edge of his bed. His arms were on his knees and he was studying the floor. She slipped quietly out of the room.

  Chapter 8

  She felt like crap. She was making her way to the deck where she’d parked her car, absorbed in thought. Brian told her he loved her, no that he was in love with her, and she ran away. Again. She released a breath and picked up the pace. There was a group of guys about twenty-feet in front of her who had already reached their car. She wasn’t interested in hanging out on the street alone.

  It was already ten when she left Dorian’s. The Roc D excuse had come in handy after all. But once she was in her car, she couldn’t stand the thought of actually going home to be alone with her thoughts, so she’d driven to the venue where he was performing.

  She honestly had no idea if the show had been good or not. She’d taken pictures for Gabe’s beloved snapshot section, but she couldn’t concentrate. Brian’s words kept running through her head, and even more, the look on his face when she hadn’t responded to his admission that he was in love with her. She never wanted to see that look on his face again. And knowing that she was the one who had put the look there made her feel worse than she’d ever felt before.

  She entered the empty parking deck and walked quickly to her car. She knew she needed to talk to him. She’d promised that she wouldn’t disappear on him again. She reached her car and popped the trunk so she could throw her bag inside and felt in her pocket to pull her phone out and send him a text.

  “I’m too old to be frontin’ what I’m feelin’/ Denzel-in’ actin’ like you ain’t appealin’ when you are.”

  She smiled and shut the trunk.

  Then the right side of her head exploded.

  Or it felt like it did. She blinked and automatically started to grab her head but something slammed into her rib cage, knocking all of the air out of her lungs.

  She stumbled and fell, pain piercing her right side like an icepick.

  Then she was being dragged.

  She could feel the asphalt on her calf and thighs, cold and hard, scraping violently against her skin. She couldn’t breathe. There was a hand over her mouth and nose and she couldn’t breathe.

  She was on her back now, in front of her parked car and he was on top of her, pushing her purple sundress up, growling for her to shut the fuck up. She kicked and twisted and tried to scream but his hand was over her mouth again, and it came out muffled and gargled.

  He was on top of her now, prying her legs apart with his free hand.

  She looked up into brown eyes. Devil’s eyes. Familiar eyes. His fist came down again.

  Then nothing.

  Chapter 9

  “They caught him… parking lot… couple of guys…”

  Destiny slowly opened her eyes. They were heavy. Like a ton of sticky glue had been poured on them and her eyelashes were stuck together. She rolled her tongue around in her mouth and frowned at the metallic taste. Her head was screaming.

  “Don’t know… think she did…”

  It was Brian’s voice. She tried to sit up so that she could listen better and make out what he was saying, but it was muffled and her limbs were heavy. If she could just get her eyes to stay open... She blinked again, squinting against the light in the room. It felt like it was beaming down directly into her head, making it throb. She groaned audibly. The door at the far end of the room flung open and Brian was at her side. His eyes were beet-red. Why were his eyes so red?

  “Hey,” he said. His voice was so strained and weak it was practically unrecognizable to her.

  “Where…?” she whispered, trying to figure out why her voice wasn’t working. She licked her dry lips.

  “They ran a CAT scan and you have a concussion, but you’re okay,” he said, grabbing her hand, causing her to notice for the first time that she had an IV. Why did she have an IV?

  “Do you know…” he started then stopped, loo
king away. He looked at her again, his expression anguished. “Do you remember what happened?”

  What happened? What happ…she closed her eyes, her breath constricting in her chest. His hands were on her knees, prying them apart, his breath hot in her ear as he licked the side of her face. No. No. No. No. No. No.

  She jerked, pain piercing her right side. She had to get up. She had to wash her face. She needed to wash her face.

  “Destiny…baby, you have to breathe,” Brian was saying, trying to hold her as she jerked again wildly, her chest tightening, and her stomach churning violently. She couldn’t get enough air into her lungs. She tried to inhale gulps of it, but it wouldn’t go down. His fist was crashing against her face and she tried to turn her head, tried to squirm away but he was too strong.

  “No, no, no, no,” she shook her head, repeating the word over and over, the word that she couldn’t utter when he held her face against the asphalt, bearing his weight on her.

  “No, no, no, no, no,” she wasn’t even aware of the words leaving her lips. She had to get up. Why wasn’t Brian letting her up? She needed to shower. She had to shower!

  “Honey, you have to calm down.” It was a woman’s voice now, speaking to her in gentle tones. “You’re safe now, honey. Just breathe. You’re safe. Just be calm now.”

  She looked up, her eyes wide, her chest heaving uncontrollably. “I have to take a shower,” she breathed, frantically.

  “You’ll get a shower, honey. You’re safe now. Just be calm.”

  She pushed her gently but firmly back onto the bed and wiped her head with a cool rag. Her chest was still heaving in and out in tune with her accelerated heart rate.

  “I have to take a shower,” she whimpered again, pleadingly, looking from Brian back to the nurse. Brian met her eyes briefly. His were tormented and he turned around, pacing to the other side of the room.

  “You’ll get one, okay? I promise.” The woman kept wiping her head gently with the cool rag.

  Destiny nodded. She felt sick to her stomach and she hurt everywhere.