Fever

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Fever Page 3

by Carnal, MJ


  Tilting my head, I gave her a small smile. “I understand. The last twelve hours haven’t exactly been stellar for me either.”

  She fidgeted with her phone but kept her eyes locked on mine.

  “Got everything?” I asked. I needed to leave. I didn’t need to complicate my shit any further.

  “Yeah, I think so. Thanks for stopping to help.”

  “I’m not a dick. Well, at least not all the time.” I grinned. “How could I not stop and help the beautiful lady that I knocked over? I hope your day gets better from here.” God, I sounded like a total moron, but I couldn’t stop the verbal diarrhea that leaked from my mouth. “Let me get the door for you.” I rushed and pushed it open.

  “Thank you,” she said, brushing against my body as she tried to fit through the doorway, my torso blocking the small entrance.

  A hint of lilac or some flowery shit filled the air, disappearing with the distance between us.

  “Maybe I’ll see you again sometime,” I said, not ready to walk away.

  She smiled at me before turning around and walking away.

  “Yeah, I’m here every day.”

  When did I turn into Mr. fucking Rogers? I couldn’t stop myself.

  “Maybe we can work out together or something,” I yelled to her.

  I’m officially a pussy.

  “Sure.” She didn’t sound too eager, but then again, she didn’t say no. She placed her bag next to the desk and signed in.

  I watched her as I walked toward my truck.

  My cock was hard last night when I went to Tammy’s, and that turned in to a clusterfuck of epic proportions without me at least getting off for my troubles.

  Seeing the girl that I crashed into wearing a tight, hot pink workout tank top and black yoga pants turned my dick into granite.

  Obviously, I needed my fucking head examined.

  I flipped on the lights at Inked as I walked through the door to peace and quiet. An ice-cold shower didn’t do much to take my thoughts off the hot piece of ass I ran into at the gym.

  As I sat down at the front desk, my phone danced across the appointment book. It hadn’t stopped vibrating from the nonstop messages.

  The girl was fucking clueless.

  Last night my exact words to her were, “Don’t ever call me again, you crazy bitch.” I thought it was pretty cut and dry. My words were simple to understand, but apparently she didn’t get the fucking message.

  When I heard my sister’s car beep in the parking lot, I braced myself for her bullshit. Izzy would have a fucking field day when she heard about Tammy. I held my breath, tapped the pencil next to my jiggling phone, and kept my head down as she breezed through the door, chattering on her phone to her asshole flavor of the month.

  Izzy isn’t an easy girl—she made the guys earn everything she gave.

  Growing up with four brothers hadn’t been easy for her—we didn’t leave her the opportunity to be easy. Most of her boyfriends got chased away when she was younger. It wasn’t like she couldn’t handle herself, but we made sure to keep her ass out of trouble.

  She threw her bag on the floor next to her station before coming to a dead stop in front of me. I snuck a peek at her. She squinted at me, already reading me like an open book, shaking her head.

  “I gotta go, John,” she said into her phone, popping her gum and looking at the ceiling. Her hands opened and closed, with her fingertips touching, telling me that he was rambling. “Bye, John. I don’t have time for this shit. I’ll talk to you later.” She pressed on the screen before blowing out a puff of air. She leaned over and spat her gum in the trashcan. Classic Izzy.

  “Hey, sis.”

  “What’s wrong?” Cocking her head, she waited, rubbing her finger across her lips.

  “Nothing.” I didn’t want to tell her, but I knew it was inevitable.

  “You boys are so bad at hiding shit. I’ve spent a lifetime studying you jackasses. I know you better than you know yourself. I’m guessing woman problems. Just tell me, because I won’t stop asking until you do.”

  “Tammy.”

  “Ah, the fruitcake,” she said as she giggled.

  “What do you know about her?” My phone started to dance across the desk again, and I grabbed it to stop the jerky movement.

  “I’ve heard stories. We’ve all heard things.” She made air quotes with her fingers.

  My sister had been holding out on me. “What didn’t you share with me, Isabella?”

  “My formal name. Is someone feeling duped?”

  “I swear to Christ, Izzy. Why didn’t you warn me? I mean, I would’ve told you if you were going to date some crazy cocksucker.”

  “I tried to warn you, but you reminded me that you’re a big boy.”

  If she used air quotes one more time during this conversation I was going to put her in a headlock and mess up her hair until she screamed uncle.

  “You told me to mind my own business. So…I thought I’d let you learn the hard way, big brother.” She couldn’t stop laughing.

  I sighed. “Next time slap me, will you?”

  “Gladly.” Her fingers tangled in my hair, ruffling it just the right way to make me cringe. “So tell me what happened, and why is your phone going crazy without you bothering to look?”

  “I don’t even know where to start. I ended shit with Tammy and she’s been blowing it up for twelve hours.”

  “Why did you end it? Wait, were you guys really a thing?” She leaned over the desk and rested her chin in her hand.

  “We weren’t anything but fuck buddies, or at least that’s what I thought. She, on the other hand, had our future planned out. She made a scrapbook, Izzy. A fucking scrapbook.” I slammed my fist down on the desk and started to laugh. “Shit would be funny if it happened to someone else, but she’s crazy.”

  “A scrapbook of what?” Her eyebrows drew together.

  “The cover was a wedding photo with our faces glued on the bride and groom. I flipped through the book. It was our entire life planned out and in living color. That shit just isn’t normal, Izzy.”

  She doubled over in laughter, smashing her fist against the desk. “No, wait.” She couldn’t catch her breath as tears began to stream down her cheeks. “Did you at least take the scrapbook with you? I mean, I need to see this shit.”

  “Fuck. I was so pissed I didn’t even think about grabbing it.” I rubbed my forehead, annoyed with myself for being such a dumbass. “She hasn’t stopped calling and texting me since last night.”

  Hunched over, gasping for breath, she held her hand out. “Give it to me.”

  “What?”

  “Gimme your phone, stunad.”

  She tapped a few buttons, the tip of her tongue sticking out.

  “What are you doing? Please don’t respond to her, Iz.”

  She gave me a sour look before turning her attention back to her task.

  I sighed, leaning back in my chair, and waited.

  “Here,” she said, placing it in front of me.

  “What did you do?”

  “You really need to learn more about your phone, Michael. I blocked her.” She rolled her eyes.

  “You can really do that shit?” I was stunned; I didn’t know it could be so easy.

  I would’ve done it hours ago to avoid the barrage of bullshit.

  Izzy just shook her head as she walked away.

  Joe and Anthony walked in laughing. They said the usual “hey” when walking past me to put their stuff down and prep their areas for customers.

  I checked over the schedule while I waited for everyone to finish. Anthony sat first and began to tap out a beat against the plastic chair. Leaning back, he put his head against the wall, and closed his eyes, looking lost in the rhythm.

  By the time Izzy and Joe made their way to the front of the shop, I wanted to rip Anthony’s fingers off and shove them down his throat.

  Izzy sat down next to Anthony, resting her head on his shoulder.

  “Anyth
ing new since yesterday, Mike?” Joe asked, leaning against the desk. He cracked his neck with a quick push to his chin.

  Izzy laughed as she whispered in Anthony’s ear. They looked at me and smiled.

  “Totally booked. No room for walkins unless anyone wants to work extra.”

  No one met my eyes.

  “Didn’t think so.” I tapped the pen against the schedule and tried to avoid the looks from the two assholes against the wall.

  Joe turned toward them. “What are you two giggling about over there?”

  I waved my hands in the air and shook my head. I hoped Izzy would take pity on me. I knew the bullshit that was about to take place if she didn’t.

  “Talking about the nuptials between Tammy and Mike.”

  Fucking little sisters and their big mouths.

  Joe’s head turned quickly in my direction. “What the fuck are they talking about?”

  “They’re being jackasses.”

  “You didn’t elope or anything stupid like that did you?” Joe asked.

  “Fuck no! Give me an ounce of credit, will you please?”

  We spent the next ten minutes laughing about Tammy and all the problems our dicks had caused through the years. It’s strictly a male issue.

  I had to own that shit.

  When my first customer arrived five minutes early, I wanted to kiss her feet for saving me from my siblings’ harassment.

  Chapter 3

  I groaned, burying my face in the pillow and wanting to avoid facing the world. My body felt heavy and I didn’t want to get out of bed, but the only thing that could help was working out. Even after a full night’s sleep, I couldn’t shake my sadness from work last night, and I figured, why the hell not? It was worth a shot.

  The only thing that usually helped my mood was a good, ass-kicking workout at the gym.

  Then I walked in the gym and the man knocked me on my ass. The impact scared the hell out of me as I fell on my ass, dropping my purse and spilling the contents everywhere.

  He was the object of my anger. It wasn’t from being knocked down; looking back, I was more mortified by it than pissed. I felt helpless over the lost lives that had piled up during my shift. The night before had been one of the lowest in my short career, but when I looked up into his rich caramel eyes, something inside me shifted.

  My brain must have been rattled by the force of my fall.

  I’d seen him before. I knew it.

  I lost my breath as I stared into his eyes. I’d never had a reaction to someone like I had with him. Something unspoken passed between us as we looked into each other’s eyes.

  It took everything in me to not react when he helped me off the ground. The moment our skin connected, electricity passed between us. There was a snap, crackle, pop.

  I couldn’t get him out of my damn mind as I started to run on the treadmill. As my thighs burned and sweat trickled down my chest, I thought about only him.

  How did I know him?

  Tall with broad shoulders, muscular, tattooed-covered arms, and completely not my taste.

  The track pants he wore hid his legs, but there was no doubt in my mind that they were as solid and powerful as his upper half.

  When our bodies were inches apart in the doorway, my heart pounded in my chest—if he were any closer, he would’ve heard the frantic rhythm.

  “Hey, Mia.” A voice pulled me out of my haze.

  Blinking, I looked over to see Rob leaning against the treadmill. “Oh. Hey, Rob.”

  “You’re looking beautiful, as always.” He stared at my chest as my body bounced.

  “If you don’t stop staring at my chest, I’ll knock you on your ass,” I warned.

  He snickered, covering his mouth with his hand, but his eyes remained glued to my breasts. “Promises, promises. Why don’t you let me take you to dinner?”

  “Rob, I’m sure you’re a nice guy.” I coughed.

  He was the farthest thing from nice. He wasn’t an asshole, but he sure as hell wasn’t boyfriend material.

  “We wouldn’t work. I’d spend too much time repairing the injuries I’d give you.”

  A giant smile crept across his face before he finally looked at my eyes. “You say the sexiest shit, Mia.”

  “Not happening. Who was that guy that left when I walked in?” I grabbed the towel and blotted the sweat from my chest.

  Moving his eyes to follow the path of the towel, he asked, “You mean Mike?”

  “I don’t know his name. Tall, muscular, walked out right after you opened.”

  Brawn didn’t equal brains when it came to Rob.

  “Mike, yeah, he’s a friend of mine.” His eyes flickered between my breasts and eyes.

  If they were friends, then in all probability he was an asshole too. I had attracted more of those in my time than I wanted to admit.

  “Tell me about him. I think I know him from somewhere.” I couldn’t help myself; I had to figure out how I knew him.

  “He’s a fighter. He has a big fight coming up that I’m helping him train for.” Rob flexed and punched the air.

  “Is that all he does?” Fighter—code word for “unemployed and a workout junkie.”

  Rob shook his head and laughed. “Nah, he’s part owner in a tattoo shop. He’s a piercer there.”

  A busty blonde walked by and started to set up camp at a treadmill nearby. Rob’s eyes wandered in her direction as he licked his lips.

  “Thanks. You can go now,” I said, wanting to be alone with my thoughts.

  He put his hands over his heart and staggered backward as though he were in pain. “You just dismissed me like that? I’m wounded, Mia.”

  “Maybe the girl over there”—I moved my head in her direction—“will have the remedy.”

  “You may be right, beautiful. I’m off to find out.” Winking, he tapped my treadmill with his palm before whistling as he walked away.

  CNN played on the tiny screen in front of me, but I couldn’t focus as my thoughts drifted back to Mike. The powerhouse that literally rocked my world this morning was a body mutilator. He pierced and punched his way through life while I patched up the damage caused by fists and dirty needles.

  I grabbed my phone from the cup holder as it began to chirp.

  Lori: Girls night out. Game?

  I needed a night with my friends. I needed to laugh and hear the latest gossip. I had two days off, and an evening to let loose sounded like heaven and a great way to get my mind off work.

  Me: I’m in. When and where?

  I didn’t give a shit if I had to drive to Orlando, I’d be there. My restless night would require a nap to keep up with the ladies, or I would do a face plant on the table after the first drink.

  Lori: Ybor City. Be ready to party your ass off. I’ll pick you up at 9.

  Me: I can drive.

  Lori: Fuck no, your ass is getting drunk. I got it all worked out.

  She knew me so well. Lori and the girls went out all the time. They lived without their work to weigh them down emotionally. Unlike me, they didn’t have to hold someone’s heart in their hand and try to get it to beat again. Their pressures were different, but I could never stumble into work nursing a hangover.

  Lori was a lawyer, Sarah a receptionist at an advertising agency, and Jamie was a bored housewife.

  I wanted to buy a new outfit for tonight. I had a closet full of clothes, but screw it, I deserved something special. I worked my ass off and didn’t feel ashamed to splurge on myself every once in a while. International Plaza called my name.

  I straightened my hair—the humidity in Florida wreaked havoc on my long brown locks—before starting my makeup. I didn’t wear much to work; the long hours typically had me questioning their claim that makeup was twenty-four-hour wear. It never stayed put, and caused my eyes to look more tired than they did naturally.

  I took my time, giving my lids a smoky treatment to bring out their color before applying an obscene amount of Barely There mascara. It made my eyes lo
ok bright and my eyelashes long and lush. Lori texted me that she was almost at my house as I spritzed my body with Gucci Guilty and stared in the mirror—giving myself a once-over.

  The short, tight black tube top showed off my stomach and hourglass figure perfectly. My tits didn’t stick out too much, but would be noticed without flashing a sign that read “looky here.” My form-fitting denim capris made my ass look perky. The leopard print stiletto heels caused my calves to tighten and pulled the entire outfit together.

  I sat on the front step as I waited for Lori to pick me up. The neighborhood was bustling. People waved as they walked past with their dogs and sat on their front porches enjoying the warmth of the Florida air. Summer would soon be arriving in full force, and people would be scarce at this time of day. The summer sun felt like a flame against my skin, and even the mornings were stifling from the humidity.

  I closed my eyes as Lori’s headlight blinded me momentarily when she pulled in. The car shook from the loud bass of whatever hip-hop song she had blasting inside.

  “Oh my God, I’m so excited. Fuck, you look amazing, girl.” She bounced a little in her seat and held the steering wheel, a giant smile on her face, as I climbed in.

  I leaned over and planted a giant kiss on her cheek. “I’ve missed you.”

  “Me too, Mia. Got everything?” She applied a layer of lip-gloss before smacking her lips together and checking her reflection in the rearview mirror.

  I nodded at her with butterflies in my stomach. “Yep, let’s hit it.”

  Lori and I met in college. I was pre-med and she was pre-law. We became thick as thieves sophomore year. Any free moment we had, and there weren’t as many as we wished, we spent together at the beach or clubs. We danced our asses off and loved every minute of it.

  When college ended and the real world sucked us in, we didn’t have the time to hang out together and drink Coronas on the beach. We were lucky to see each other once a month, and to get everyone together had become virtually impossible.

 

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