Rebels Advocate - COMPLETE BOX SET 1-4

by Sheridan Anne

  “Yes,” I smile. “I saw your sign out the front.”

  “Beautiful,” she responds. “Charli will be with you in a moment, she’s just finishing up a style cut.”

  “Oh, no problem,” I say. “Tell her to take her time. I’m in no rush.”

  “Sure thing,” Zara says. “Can I get you a drink of water while you wait? Coffee? Tea?”

  “No thanks,” I tell her.

  “Ok, great,” she responds. “I’ll leave you to it.”

  Zara disappears back to the front counter where she carries on with whatever task she was in the middle of before and I grab a magazine off the table in front of me. I’m busy flicking through the pages of a hairstyle magazine when a gorgeous woman comes and stands behind me. “Hi,” the woman smiles. “I’m Charli. You’re here for a shampoo and blow dry?” she questions.

  “Yes, I am,” I tell her. “I’m Lexi.”

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Lexi,” she says as she pulls the elastic out of my hair. “I don’t think I’ve worked on you before,” she muses. “Is this your first time here?”

  “It is, actually,” I tell her. “I just moved here a few days ago. I’m flipping a house and needed to get away from all the dirt.”

  “Oh yeah,” she says as she reclines my chair so my hair falls into the basin. “So, you’re here with your family then?”

  “No,” I say with a tight smile. “It’s just me.”

  “Just you?” she questions. “Flipping a home by yourself? Wow.”

  “Yeah,” I grin. I’m not surprised by her reaction. I get it from lots of people. They’re always shocked to find a woman doing a job that so commonly is done by a man. They assume it’s me doing it with someone else. That I just go and buy the pretty things while a man does the heavy lifting. But not here. I mean, sure I have Mick, but he tends to do the things that I simply just can’t. Like, hanging doors. I can’t believe how impossibly hard it is to hang a stupid door. It’s ridiculous.

  “That’s incredible,” Charli says while she turns on the water and checks the temperature. “How long does that usually take?”

  “It depends,” I say. “My last few homes weren’t nearly as challenging as this one is. I’d say it could take me anywhere from six months to a year. It basically just needs new walls and a major facelift. The bones of the house are still really good.”

  “That’s cool,” she says. “I love doing stuff like that. My fiancé owns a gym and we built it from the ground up. It was so much fun.”

  “I bet,” I grin as she runs the water through my hair.

  “So, you’re completely new to the area then?” she asks me.

  “Sure am,” I smile as she squirts a dollop of shampoo onto her hand before massaging it into my hair. “Except for having an asshole as a neighbor, I don’t know a single person here.”

  “What?” she gasps. “Not even a girlfriend to complain to?”

  “Nope,” I laugh. “Not even.”

  “Geez, that won’t do,” she tells me as she massages her fingers over my scalp. “I have plenty to share with you,” she says. “What are you doing on Saturday night? My friend, Rylee owns The Dark Room, it’s like the most popular club in the city. She’s having a black and white party. Why don’t you come?”

  “Are you serious?” I ask. “I wouldn’t want to intrude on your night.”

  “Don’t be silly,” she says. “We’d love to have you come along. It wasn’t so long ago that I was new to the city and had to do it all on my own. It would be my pleasure to have you come along.”

  “That would be incredible,” I say with a beaming smile. “I’d absolutely love to.”

  Zara walks past us and Charli calls out for her to come over. “Did you meet Zara earlier?” she asks me. “She’ll be coming on Saturday night.”

  “Hey,” Zara says looking a little confused. “What’s going on?”

  “We’re adopting Lexi,” Charli grins. “She’s new and doesn’t know anyone here yet, so she’s going to come to Rylee’s black and white party with us on Saturday night.”

  “Oh really?” Zara asks with excited eyes as she looks down at me. “It’s going to be so much fun. Rylee throws incredible parties and all the guys are coming too. You’ll love it.”

  “I can’t wait. I’ll have to find something to wear. It’s been a little while since I’ve gone out,” I tell them.

  “Oh, well if you need something, you should go down to ‘Style Me Crazy’. Our friend, Cami owns that store and has everything you could need. She’ll be at the party, actually, she’ll most likely be working it too.”

  “Oh ok,” I say, feeling more excited than I have in a long time. In the four years since I left my husband, I’ve never found people who have so easily taken me in. These girls hardly know me, yet here they are instantly inviting me into their lives. “Thanks,” I say with as much sincerity as I can possibly give.

  “No problem,” Charli grins before she starts rinsing the shampoo out of my hair. She starts telling me about her fiancé Xander and I realize what they share is a true, deep kind of love. One I wish that I could find for myself. But, I’m damaged goods and not to mention nearly twenty-eight. I’m pretty sure that ship has already sailed.

  As she finishes my hair, we chat about my renovation and she throws out all her suggestions, some of which I think I’ll actually go with.

  Once we’re done, she gives me directions to Cami’s shop and we exchange numbers.

  I walk out of Charli’s salon feeling like for the first time in nearly four years, that I’ve found somewhere that I could maybe find a home. I’ve never felt a connection to a place like the way I’m starting to feel about this town. The people have all been incredibly nice and welcoming. Well, all except one. I’m starting to feel like maybe, this could be my forever home.

  Chapter 6

  Luke

  What the hell am I doing here?

  I stand out the front of my neighbors house trying to convince myself not to knock on the stupid door. I don’t know why I feel so compelled to come over here, but after she hurt herself this morning, I just had to come and check on her.

  She went down like a sack of potatoes, and I swear I could practically hear her ass protesting with the impact of the hit. Then she had to go and tell me that she has some weird blood clotting disorder. So now, here I am.

  I watched while my friend was tortured for nearly three weeks, suffering through incredible amounts of pain. The same pain I suffered through. After going through something like that, I can’t bear the thought of another person being in pain.

  It doesn’t occur to me that a slight excitement goes through me at the thought of seeing her. I’ll check on the nameless girl, make sure she has what she needs to get better and leave.

  I won’t ask her name, even though it’s starting to really bug me. I won’t make sure she has her dinner sorted. I won’t fuck her up against the wall like I’ve been thinking about doing since I first saw her.

  Shit. She really is radiant. But she’s a pain in the ass that happens to live right next door. Had I met her out at a club and knew I’d never see her again, sure, I would have dealt with that issue. But not with her living so close.

  She’s forbidden fruit. The most irritating forbidden fruit that makes me drool with need. It’s becoming intoxicating. We play this little game every morning. Who can piss off the other more, and I find myself getting oddly excited about what little pranks or ideas she can come up with. Though I always manage to top it.

  Sure, the first day I was honestly really pissed off. But after that, it’s changed into something else. I enjoy messing with her. Watching the crease appear between her eyebrows when I push her to her limits is nothing short of thrilling. She clenches her jaw and stomps around, and I find it the funniest, but cutest thing I’ve ever witnessed.

  But… she’s infuriating.

  My fist bangs against the hard wood of her door and I look at it as though it’s just betrayed me
. “Fuck,” I groan to myself. What was I thinking? I should leave.

  I go to step back from her door just as she pulls it open and watches me with confusion. Her eyebrows pull down, clearly wondering what the hell I’m doing here. I know I find annoying her to be exciting. But to her, I’m probably just as infuriating, if not more.

  “Can I help you?” she questions.

  I cringe as the words come out. “I just wanted to check you were ok, you know, after your fall this morning.”

  “Oh,” she practically gasps. “Um, yeah. I have a nasty bruise though.”

  “Really?” I sigh. I had kind of hoped she managed to come out of it unscathed.

  “Yeah,” she tells me before turning around and reaching for the back of her pants. She pulls them down just a smidge and my eyes instantly zone in on her exposed skin. She watches me over her shoulder with a knowing grin. “Check this out.”

  The side of her pants lower just a bit more and I’m absolutely shocked with what I see. The top of her ass is covered with a dark purpling bruise. “Fuck,” I gasp as I take it in. I mean, this is just the top of her ass. I can’t imagine what the rest of it would look like. I push my way into her home and demand she lays down.

  I go straight for her fridge and search out an ice pack or some frozen vegetables she can use to put on it to help ease the pain. “Where the fuck are all your frozen things?” I demand as I search the empty freezer.

  “What are you doing?” she says as that cranky little crease appears between her eyebrows.

  “You need to put something on it to help the bruising. Shit, do you have painkillers?” I question.

  “Um, no,” she says as she looks at me like a complete idiot.

  I let out a groan and storm back out of her house while leaving the door wide open. I walk straight back through thirty seconds later with a bag of frozen peas and painkillers. “Here,” I say, thrusting her the bag of peas. “Put that on your ass.”

  “You’re kidding right?” she questions.

  “No,” I demand, nodding towards the peas that sit in her hand. “Put it on your ass or I will.”

  I watch as she rolls her eyes but does as she’s told, not missing how she cringes as the peas connect with her ass. The look on her face kills me. I find a bottle of water in her fridge and I pop some pain pills out of the packet. “Take these,” I say, handing them over.

  “You know, I have medication to deal with this shit, right?”

  “Just…” I let out a frustrated breath. “Please, just take them. I have issues with seeing people in pain.”

  “If I take them, will you go away?”

  “Yes,” I promise.

  She does as I’ve asked and I find myself not keeping to my part of the bargain. “You can go now,” she reminds me.

  “Mmhmm,” I murmur as I head back into her ridiculous excuse of a kitchen and start rifling through her fridge and cupboards again. Finding nothing good, I turn back to her. “Come on, you’re having dinner at my place.”

  “Um… excuse me?”

  “You heard me. Let’s go.”

  She lets out an annoyed huff and gets herself up. “You better be making something good,” she murmurs mostly to herself.

  I ignore her and get her over to my place when I remember Gerald in the living room. As we walk through my place, I lead her straight through to the kitchen and grab a seat for her, which is big enough for her to practically lay down in, so she doesn’t have to sit on her ass or notice the four-meter python in the next room.

  I go about the kitchen and throw together fish with steamed vegetables before placing a plate down in front of her. She instantly digs in. “This is good,” she tells me. “It must be the healthiest thing I’ve ever eaten.”

  “What?” I grunt as I look up at her with a questioning look. “What do you mean it’s the healthiest thing you’ve ever eaten?”

  “I don’t cook,” she tells me before completely horrifying me. “The things I eat generally come in a box and can be shoved in the oven.”

  My eyes widen in shock and disgust. “Jesus Christ,” I gasp. “From now on, you eat here.”

  “Ha. Thanks,” she scoffs, “But I’m fine. I’m a big girl and I can take care of myself.”

  “Clearly you can’t,” I grunt.

  I see her jaw clenching as she narrows her eyes on me. “Why do you insist on being such an ass all the time?”

  I shrug my shoulders. “Just call it like I see it.”

  She lets out a huff and focuses on her dinner.

  “How’s your ass?” I ask as the silence begins to kill me.

  “Better actually,” she tells me. “The painkillers are working.”

  “Good,” I grunt, trying to keep it short and sweet.

  “I’m surprised you care so much about it.”

  Her comment throws me off and I find myself looking up at her. “Just because I hate being woken up by irritating neighbors, doesn’t mean I’m a nasty guy.”

  “I… I didn’t mean it like that,” she says. “I was just a little thrown off. I didn’t expect you to come by to check on me.”

  “Well,” I grunt. “Don’t expect me to do it again.”

  “Wasn’t going to,” she throws back.

  I narrow my eyes on her. What is it about her that makes me react like this? She boils my blood, but I enjoy it. “How long have you had this blood thing?”

  “I was born with it,” she tells me.

  Shit. “Must suck,” I grunt.

  “What sucks is having four miscarriages,” she says with a scoff as she studies her half-eaten dinner.

  “Four?” I question, wondering how many guys she must have been fucking to get herself knocked up so often. She nods her head and I find myself grinning at her. “Do you not know anything about safe sex?”

  Her head snaps up. “Excuse me?” she says. “You're just going to assume I was whoring myself out? Did it not occur to you that maybe I was trying?”

  Fuck. Maybe this time I’ve crossed a line. “Well, no,” I tell her. “Who the hell are you trying with? I don’t see a man helping you over there. Unless you’re talking about the old dude that’s been putting the walls up?”

  “Eww,” she says as she scrunches her face up. “I’m not screwing Mick, he’s my carpenter. And for your information, I have a little more class than that.”

  “So, who are you screwing?”

  “I was referring to my ex-husband.”

  “Husband?” I question in shock. “You’re just full of surprises.”

  “Tell me about it,” she groans.

  The curiosity is simply too much for me to bear and I find myself probing for information. “What happened to him?” I ask.

  “I’d rather not get into it,” she says.

  “Still fresh?”

  She smirks at me, and the look is so fucking hot that it has me wanting to throw her up against the wall. “No,” she says with an attitude. “It’s just none of your business.”

  I can’t help but smirk back at her. I’m going to enjoy living next door to this little spitfire.

  “Fair call,” I say. A smug expression crosses her face and it’s almost as though she’s proud that she’s won this round. I roll my eyes and focus back on my plate. “Eat your dinner.”

  She does just that and twenty minutes later, she hops up from the seat and gives me a strange look. “I… um. I’m going to go. Thanks for dinner.”

  I nod, and without another word, she heads to the door. She stops right before opening it and looks back at me. “Hey, what’s your name?”

  Smirking at her, I consider not giving it to her. “Luke,” I finally tell her.

  She nods and disappears out the door, though it doesn’t go unnoticed that she still hasn’t offered me hers. I find myself more curious than ever, but I’m not going to ask. I’m too proud and stubborn for that. It’ll come out eventually, or I can peek at something from her mailbox.

  As the door closes behind her, I fi
nd myself watching through the window, making sure she gets there safely, even though it’s only ten steps from my front door to hers. What’s happening to me? Why am I acting like such a fucking pussy with this girl? A girl who can’t help but get under my skin. I should be ignoring her. I should be putting her in her place and making sure she knows not to mess with me. Instead, I’m begging for more.

  Hell, I invited the woman over for dinner every fucking night, though, I doubt she’ll actually show up. She’s just as stubborn as I am.

  Cleaning up after dinner, I begin wondering about this ex-husband of hers. It’s obvious the sorry bastard left her because he couldn’t handle her temper any longer, no man in his right mind could, but how long ago was that? And why do I care?

  I head into the bathroom and strip out of my clothes for a shower. As usual, every time I catch sight of my reflection, I can’t help but stare at the new angry scars that take residence all over my body. Seeing them there angers me. They shouldn’t be there. They’re a constant reminder of what happened and I fear I’ll never be able to forget.

  The smell of Jonesy body still haunts me. I can still picture the way that bastard would smirk at me before using his body as his personal ashtray.

  For fuck's sake. I don’t want to visit this again, but I know the moment I close my eyes, it will all be there, like a recording that plays on an endless loop.

  I try to shake it from my mind and get myself showered. Stepping out of the shower, I wrap my towel around my waist and head into my bedroom. As I search through my drawer for something to wear, I spot her through the bedroom window.

  She walks up and down the hallway with a sander, smoothing out the wall, completely oblivious to the fact that I see her. My dick twitches as she reaches and bends, but the second she stretches her neck to the side. I’m a goner.

  I grow hard and I drop my towel to the ground. Palming my dick, I watch her and I find myself imagining what it’d be like to be inside her. Sliding in and out of her warm, slick pussy.