Into The Clear Water

by Celeste, B.

  My face must turn bright red thinking about what Jenna said, because Jay looks over at me and busts out laughing.

  “Uh … no.” Sheepishly smiling, I cap my water off before setting it on the counter.

  To my surprise, East speaks up. “She already has a piercing.”

  Jay’s brows pinch at me. “You do?”

  I nod, pointing to my belly button. “I got it done a few years ago.” These days, I rarely wear the many studs that I picked out.

  Jay makes an interested noise in the back of his throat, his lips quirking up like he understands exactly how Easton knows I have a belly piercing. “Thought about getting any others?”

  My shoulders lift. “I considered getting my nose done. When I was in high school I tried tricking my mom into signing a permission form since I was underage at the time. She freaked out. Needless to say, I didn’t get the form signed.”

  Jay tilts his head. “What about today?”

  My lips part. “Maybe another time, Jay. I’m actually here to see Easton.”

  East stands up, gesturing for his customer to come to the register. I step out of their way, feeling the blonde’s eyes on me skeptically as she scopes me out before giving me her back.

  “Everything okay?” Easton asks, glancing up at me after taking the money from the girl.

  I nod quickly. “Yes. I was actually just here to say thanks again for the gift card. I went to grab my supplies today. Jenna’s watching Ainsley.”

  He counts out the change and passes it back to the girl with wandering eyes. She has to be nineteen at best, nearly ten years younger than him. But I brush it off because it’s not like I have any claim on him for more than a few stolen hours every night.

  “I told you it’s no big deal,” he murmurs, crossing his arms over his chest.

  The girl intervenes, leaning forward to reveal her enviously impressive boobs. “I was wondering if you had plans tonight. My friends and I are meeting at Club 21.”

  He deadpans, face unimpressed. “You’re not twenty-one.”

  I press my lips together to refrain from smiling, readjusting my purse strap and busying myself by looking around the shop. Magazines are scattered in front of the black arm chairs off to the side where people wait to get their work done.

  “Don’t worry, we have fake IDs,” she insists, making me cringe. East makes a strangled noise in the back of his throat, a telltale sign that he’s not going to take her up on the offer.

  “I’m busy,” is all he says.

  Her shoulders drop. “Oh. Well…”

  Don’t do it.

  “I’ll give you my number and you can let me know when you’re free,” she says despite my silent warning. It’s not like I’m jealous. East can do whatever, and whoever, he wants. In fact, I respect her metaphorical lady balls for even taking the receipt and jotting down her number before passing it back to him.

  But I know East. As soon as she leaves, he’ll wad up the paper and toss it into the recyclables under the counter. I never understood why he did it because he could get any girl he wanted. Even before our little arrangement he never kept the numbers he was passed. And from what Jay has said, there’s a lot of women who come back for the quiet man in front of me.

  Speaking of which, his brows raise in inquiry at me. Snapping from the thought, I wait until the girl says goodbye and walks toward the door before I take my place in front of him. “I couldn’t figure out what to get you. You’re hard to shop for and I couldn’t just accept the card without at least trying, even if you think it’s not a big deal.”

  “It’s not.”

  I roll my eyes and watch him walk over to his station to clean it. He stays busy, so I’m sure his next appointment will be here soon. “I know, but still. What if I paid for your next tattoo? You said you wanted to add to your sleeve, right?”

  Jay snickers as Easton turns to me, one of his brows quirked. “I own a tattoo parlor. I can get it done for free, Piper.”

  Right. Heat prickles the back of my neck. In hindsight, I should have thought about that before letting it escape my mouth.

  “Dinner?”

  He stops what he’s doing. “Where?”

  What a lot of people don’t know is that he’s vegetarian, something I learned quickly after he moved in. I wanted to make us dinner and break the ice since we’d be living together, but I cooked Mom’s famous lasagna which had ground beef and pork sausage in it. He opted to eat the salad I prepared, making me feel like a fatty as I ate the pasta dish by myself. Ainsley doesn’t like it either, so I had it for lunch and dinner all week.

  “I was thinking we could order in from that Thai place you like,” I suggest, knowing the vegetable stir fry is his favorite. “Ainsley is sick, so I kind of want to stay in tonight. But if you want to go somewhere maybe we could tomorrow or whenever you’re free.”

  He disregards the food offer completely, focusing on only one thing. “Is she okay?” Straightening to full height, he watches me with cautious eyes, making my heart squeeze in my chest before threatening to melt in a messy puddle right there on the cement floor.

  “Stomach bug. I think it’s the candy.”

  He purses his lips. “I can order the food and pick it up before I head home. My last appointment is at six-thirty.”

  Jay clears his throat. “Uh, East—”

  “Jay will close up,” East adds.

  Jay looks between us before nodding, turning to finish the customer’s tattoo.

  “Okay.” I smile. “Oh, and I bought you more ginger ale because Jenna had to give some to Ainsley to help her stomach.”

  His lips twitch before he mutters, “You didn’t have to do that.”

  I shrug. “It’s only fair. It’s yours.”

  He doesn’t say anything.

  “I’ll just have them deliver the food,” I insist, grabbing my water bottle from the counter and backing toward the door, “that way you’re not paying for it when you pick it up. Same as usual?”

  He pauses, then nods once.

  “See you later then.” I wiggle my fingers at Jay, who tips his chin at me before retuning his focus to his work.

  Once I’m in my car again, I shoot Jenna a text to let her know I’m on my way home before looking over at the parlor to see East watching me from the front window.

  I wave.

  He doesn’t wave back.

  Chapter Three

  I should have known the day was going to go downhill quickly when I discovered there were no eggs left to make breakfast. Shortly after that I realized there were only a few swallows of almond milk left in the carton, not enough for the cereal I’d already poured into a bowl for Ainsley. Blowing out an irritated breath over the person most likely responsible, I leave the kitchen and walk upstairs.

  The room directly next to mine is cracked open, revealing a strawberry blonde twisted like a pretzel under her purple comforter, the lavender quilted blanket her father gave to her before she was even born grasped in her clutches. His grandmother, Grandma Mable, made it for her using scraps of old fabric leftover from other projects from her sewing club.

  “Ainsley,” I whisper, walking in and gently nudging her shoulder. “It’s time to get up and get breakfast.” Breakfast that will probably be buttered toast and a banana at this point. I make a mental note to go to the store after I’m done with conferences this afternoon.

  She wiggles but doesn’t open her eyes. I’ve been here before with her and it never ends well. Last time, she all but scratched my face in a tantrum when I told her to get up.

  “Ains,” I repeat.

  Burying her head in the pillow, I scrub a palm down my face. I’ve been up for over half an hour and still haven’t gotten changed because I wanted to get her breakfast set. Now I’m regretting that because it means dressing quickly and skipping my own breakfast, which won’t make for a good day.

  I do what my parents always did when I acted like this. I yank the blankets off her and scoop her up. She wiggles
and bats my chest until I set her on her feet. “Sorry, kid. I’ve got to go to the school today which means Aunt Jenna is watching you.”

  Normally she perks up over Jenna’s name, but I can tell her early morning battle is getting the best of her. She tries crawling back in bed, but I stop her. Fighting me all the way to the stairs, I all but growl in frustration.

  “Ainsley!” I scold, trying not to be too loud since Easton isn’t up yet. He left my room after three this morning, later than he normally fleas. I think he might have fallen asleep for a while before remembering he wasn’t in his room.

  Ainsley drags her feet across the carpet, forcing me let go and sigh. She runs back to her room and closes the door. Eyes squeezing shut, I rub the lids and count to five before walking over and opening it.

  “You have five minutes to get downstairs before I get angry,” I inform her in a tone I’ve only had to use once before. I hate sounding like a hard ass with her. We’ve always been on friendly terms, but it’s been different since she started living with me fulltime. “And that means no dessert … for the next three days.”

  Truthfully, I’ll probably cave. It’s like all the times I’d threaten not to give my childhood cat treats when he did something bad, then give him some anyway. All it took was one little look, a shin rub, and a loud purr to get me to fold.

  Ainsley is no different.

  As I walk down the stairs, I hear one door slam closed and another one open. Instead of looking up past the white railway that reveals the doors in question, I shake my head and walk back to the kitchen to prepare her toast.

  It’s a few minutes later when I’m buttering the browned bread and grumbling to myself when I hear footsteps that are too heavy to belong to a five-year-old. A warm body comes up behind me and takes the butter knife away from me before his hip nudge me over.

  “What’s wrong?”

  My nostrils flare. “You drank all the milk again and didn’t bother telling me or getting more. And what happened to the eggs?”

  He pauses what he’s doing to glance at me, lips pursed. “I’ll go to the store and grab some when they open. It’s not a big deal.”

  Not a big— Of course he doesn’t think so. He doesn’t have to feed another person. All he has to worry about is himself, and half the time he just grabs something after he leaves if he doesn’t make one of his disgusting green protein shakes after his run.

  “Ainsley needs breakfast,” I state, walking to the refrigerator and shaking the carton of milk. “Do you just drink from this?”

  He doesn’t answer.

  “We all use it, Easton.”

  He sets down the knife and turns to me, eyes hard. “What is the matter? Are you really pissed off over the milk? I said I’ll go get some, okay? I’m sorry.”

  It’s not about the milk, but my pride won’t tell him that. Instead, I simmer in my foul mood and figure it has to do with my period that started first thing this morning. Pair that with a child who won’t listen and will only get grumpier if she doesn’t eat, it just worsens the irritation boiling in my blood.

  “I need to get ready,” is all I say before heading toward the doorway. He stops me by grabbing my wrist, pulling me toward him. “East, I’m not kidding. I told you last night that I have conferences with administration today. All the teachers and substitutes do.”

  “Breathe, Piper.” His instruction comes in a calm, raspy tone that sends shivers down my spine despite my bitterness. “You’re not going to get anywhere if you stay angry.”

  I’m half-tempted to make a Dr. Phil remark when his lips surprise me by brushing my cheek in a soft peck. His hands move strands of unbrushed hair away from my neck before his mouth moves down my jaw and peppers a trail of lush kisses over my pulse. I swallow as his breath teases my sensitive skin, my muscles loosening as I close my eyes.

  “What are you doing,” I whisper.

  He draws back just enough to speak. “I’m helping you calm down.” Before I can answer, his mouth continues working my neck, nipping, sucking, licking, then moves back up to meet my lips.

  Hyperaware that I haven’t even brushed my teeth, I move my head to the side causing him to kiss the corner of my mouth. “I really need to get ready and force Ainsley to get dressed and eat. I’m on a tight schedule because I need to drop her off at Jenna’s house on my way in to work.”

  With that, I gently push him away and sidestep him. I freeze when he says, “I can watch her here.”

  Blinking, I slowly turn.

  He shrugs. “The shop doesn’t open until five on Mondays. It’s not a big deal. Doesn’t make sense to take her somewhere else if I’m going to be here anyway.”

  My throat thickens with a mixture of worry and gratefulness. He’s never watched Ainsley all day before—just if I had to run a last-minute errand that usually involved tampons because I somehow ran out.

  He misinterprets my expression. “Unless you don’t trust me.” His gruff voice pulls me out of my thoughts, causing me to shake my head.

  “It’s not that,” I promise lightly, offering him a smile in reassurance. “I just don’t want to burden you by watching her. I won’t be back until after two depending on how long the back to back conferences go. Then I need to run to the store.”

  “I’ll go to the store.”

  I wet my lips, knowing I don’t have time to contemplate this. If he watches her, it’s less stress on me. I won’t have to worry about being late or picking her up after the long day I’m sure to have where we go over new policies and expectations for faculty and staff.

  “Okay.” I clear my throat. “I have a list started on the fridge of what we need. You should add milk and eggs to it, and probably bread because we’re almost out.”

  He just nods.

  “And Ainsley needs to get up and eat.”

  Another nod.

  “And she can’t watch TV all day.”

  His lips twitch up. “Got it.”

  I stare at him for a moment, knowing I should give him a basic rundown of everything. Like where he can reach me if he can’t get through on my cell, or what Ainsley should do since she doesn’t start Kindergarten again until Wednesday. Knowing her, she’ll rope him into watching movies or eating more candy. I took away her stash after her stomach bug on Saturday and she’s been bitter since.

  But I don’t have time. Easton is smart and he’s good with Ainsley. I do trust him despite my hesitancy. “Okay. Well…” I jab my thumb toward the stairs. “I’m going to get ready and then tell Ainsley to come down here. Then I have to run or else I’ll be late.”

  “Okay.”

  He doesn’t say much else before I go upstairs and do exactly what I say. I slip on a gray sweater dress and black leggings and then quickly run a brush through my frizzy red hair and clean my teeth. When I reach Ainsley’s room, I see her lying in bed hugging her new teddy bear from Christmas.

  “Easton is watching you today,” I announce, walking in and sitting on the edge of her bed. “I really need you to help me out here, Ains. I’m tired and have a lot going on today. I need you to go downstairs and eat something for breakfast. Don’t pull anything with him because I will find out. Understand?”

  She blinks, pauses, but eventually nods.

  I kiss her forehead. “Please?”

  She hefts a sigh before climbing out of bed and walking hand-in-hand down the stairs beside me. I walk her into the kitchen and pass her a piece of toast, only partially aware of the blue eyes scanning down my body.

  After kissing Ainsley goodbye and watch as she nibbles on her toast, I turn to him. “Thank you for watching her. I’ll keep my cell on if you need me.”

  He follows me out to the door where I grab my coat that’s hanging on a hook off to the side and slide into my winter boots. “We’ll be fine. After she’s done eating, we’ll hit up the store before it gets busy.”

  Not having time to think about it, I nod and thank him again before heading out the door with my purse and keys in hand.
>
  I’m two seconds away from harming my coworker but tell myself that jailtime isn’t worth it. Not even if lunging across the table at the white-haired woman would be satisfying just to stop hearing her complain about everything. You’d think about three looks from the superintendent—aka our boss—she would have shut up.

  Wrong.

  “I’m just saying,” Karen, because of course her name is Karen, says from across me. She picks up her Greek yogurt and spoons some in her mouth, “we don’t need so many extra staff. If the budget is that limited, why cut it down by paying more people than necessary?”

  More people being me.

  My brow twitches. “You’re forgetting that there are people retiring soon, Karen.” I hope to God you’re one of them. “I’m personally grateful that the administration is letting me assist Diane until I finish my master’s degree.”

  “Of course you are, dear,” she condescends. Patience wearing thin, I press my lips together and try brushing off her attitude.

  If it weren’t for the school district hiring me to be a teacher’s aide to the high school history teacher and substitute in other grades when needed, I wouldn’t have the experience needed to complete my master’s without being too stressed. I would have been placed somewhere else instead of here in Aberdeen and then my schedule wouldn’t have worked in my favor.

  Between the jobs I’m offered here, the tutoring I do at Linwood’s Student Center, and my remaining class credits that I take at the university, I have everything mapped out exactly how I need it. While I don’t like it, I sometimes have to tap into the fund that Danny left for Ainsley in order to assure we keep a roof over our heads and the bills paid, but it’s been easier to handle since I decided to get a roommate to split the costs.

  Things work out even on the stressful days. Even with ungrateful shrews like Karen who only care about their own life. I’ve never seen her take part in the monthly birthday celebrations we do or donate to any fundraisers that go around when a coworker goes through a tough time. But she’s always around when she has an opinion to share.