Sever

by J. M. Miller

  Seth connected us at the elbows and tied us to the bottom pole of the banister. He moved in front of us, took another strip of material from his pocket, and tied our ankles together too. “Don’t try anything stupid.” After moving to the kitchen, he poured a double into a glass and downed it without a pause. After one more, he shook his head and jogged back toward us. “The keys better be up there.”

  When Seth disappeared up the stairs and into Damian’s bedroom, I sighed. At least he’d be gone for a little while to search for the keys. I could only hope that it would be enough time to use the glass to slice through the material. I wiggled my body and the piece of glass poked me through my back pocket—it had settled all the way at the bottom.

  Out of reach.

  “Morning, Annisyn. I’m Pam. It’s so nice to meet you.” A cheerful blonde with full red lips and a wedge haircut greeted me when I walked through Rewind’s front door. She pushed up the sleeves of her brown sweater dress and sauntered out from behind the counter.

  “Hi Pam,” I replied, taking the hand she extended to me. “It’s nice to meet you too. Thanks again for hiring me.”

  She released my hand with a nonchalant wave and gave me a kind smile that creased several lines around her lips. Based on those and the thin lines at the corners of her eyes¸ I assumed she was in her late forties, possibly few years older than my mom.

  “After reading your application and talking on the phone, I knew you’d be perfect, and Damian spoke highly enough to convince just about anyone to hire you.”

  “How nice of him,” I replied, feeling my face grow warm.

  Noticing my discomfort, she took hold of my hand again. Her skin was cool compared to mine, which was currently burning from embarrassment and irritation. “Oh, my. That did not come out the way I intended. I want you to know that he had no bearing on the actual decision. I had already made up my mind,” she assured me and released my hand. “He just agreed that you would be a good hire. He also mentioned that you could thwart shoplifters with your insanely combative nature.”

  Laughter burst from me before I could contain it and she was quick to join me.

  “I’m guessing that’s an inside joke,” she said after our laughter faded. “We rarely see shoplifters anyway, so hopefully you won’t need to worry about using those skills.”

  “Okay,” I agreed.

  “Let’s head upstairs.” She motioned and turned toward the back of the store. “There are a few papers in the office I need you to fill out.”

  I trailed behind her to the loft, smelling her gentle floral perfume along the way. The weathered bookcases upstairs were filled with records, but they also held shelves of books, maybe for something to do when the store wasn’t busy. We walked by the DJ setup and I thought about how Damian had looked behind it last week. Then I remembered how often he’d tapped his fingers when we practiced in River Park, and how often he’d talked about music. It all fit, but still seemed unreal. It felt like so long ago.

  “Here we are,” Pam said, stepping into the office. A small buzzer sounded, but she ignored it and moved next to an antique writing desk so I could step farther inside.

  The room was long and narrow, with a desk and an old leather couch pushed against one wall, taking up a majority of the space. There was also a metal filing cabinet and a wooden end table that held a reading lamp almost its same size. The wood and leather scent of the store was stronger in that room, making me feel like I’d landed a job at a winter resort instead of a music store.

  “Here are the employment papers.” She pointed a blood red fingernail at the desk then swung it up to the corkboard beside the door. “And here’s the schedule. I try to post a week in advance. Today, you’re on until noon to get acquainted. You mentioned you were okay with working after school, so I scheduled some hours during the week. If you’d like more, let me know.”

  “I’ll take whatever you can give me.”

  “I wouldn’t doubt that.” Damian’s voice entered the room before his body. “Morning, ladies.”

  When he stepped in, I stepped back, struck with how cramped the room felt with an extra person in it. I bumped my leg into the side of the couch and almost lost my balance.

  “Ah, Damian. You’re late,” Pam said in a stern voice, though the sweet smile on her lips didn’t back it up.

  Damian shrugged out of his black and gray plaid snowboarding jacket and stepped past me to hang it on a hook at the back of the room. “There was a misplaced invoice over at the shop and I wasn’t allowed to leave until I found it. I’m really sorry,” he said to her, returning to my side.

  I couldn’t help noticing how close he was. His arm brushed against my jacket and a new smell invaded my senses, something fresh and smooth, like clean sheets and citrus. He smelled good, but I couldn’t let that tame my frustration. We hadn’t talked since Monday in the gym. He’d dropped a bomb on me and then left me to dwell on it for a week. All my pent up frustration surfaced, making my hands shake.

  Pam rolled her eyes and made a tsk-tsk sound through her teeth. “They wouldn’t let you leave? Your parents are in denial of you going to college, you know that? They need to hire another person before summer arrives,” she said, crossing her arms.

  “No need to tell me,” he replied.

  “Guess they’re waiting until the last minute to torture themselves with that job. Anyway, I’ve got some things to take care of. You know where to find me,” she said to him, picking up a purse and a red parka from the back of the desk chair. “Damian’s going to show you the ropes, Annisyn. I’m convinced he knows how to run this place better than I do, so you’re in good hands. If you have any questions for me, my information is on the paperwork.”

  “Okay.” I kept my eyes on her because I felt his on me. I had no idea what else to say. “Thanks again, Pam.”

  “No problem, dear. You guys have a good day,” she said as she walked from the room.

  I didn’t move, but he shifted away from my side. Questions stirred between us as the silence stretched on.

  “Are you mad at me?” he asked in a calm tone.

  The buzzer for the front door sounded again, which meant Pam was gone.

  I spun around, grabbed the front of Damian’s shirt, and shoved him back against the wall, no longer able to hold in my frustration. I scowled up at him. “What’s your deal, huh?”

  With his size, he could have easily stopped me, but he didn’t fight the movement. Instead, he lifted his hands in submission and dropped his gaze to mine.

  I shoved him one more time and backed away to the desk. “I never asked you to talk to Pam for me. You don’t even know me.”

  He eased off the wall with his head down and his eyes peering through his lashes, like a sad freaking puppy. “I didn’t think it was a big deal. She said she was going to hire you and I told her she was making a good choice.”

  “She said you could have convinced anyone to hire me,” I snapped.

  He laughed that breathy laugh of his and took a step closer to me. “She told you that? Okay, I may have said a bit more. I’m sorry. I figured I still owed you for saving my ass on the tracks way back when. I probably still owe you for much more.”

  “I don’t need payback … or favors or charity. I do fine on my own.”

  “Understood.” He stepped even closer and reached up to my slouched beanie, pinching the fabric. “Your cheeks look like they could start a fire. You want to take this off before we get to work?”

  It wasn’t until he said it that I realized I was burning up. As soon as he let the beanie go, I plucked it off and rubbed the thick crocheted threads between my fingers. He held a hand out and twirled his finger, motioning for me to spin around. I complied, letting him help me out of my jacket.

  “This thing weighs like fifty pounds. What else are you packing besides your knife? A cannon?” he quipped.

  I turned back around. “None of your business.”

  “Fair enough.” He laughed as he hung my jack
et. When he returned, he propped a hand on the desk and tapped his fingers on its surface. “Look, I want to apologize for not telling you who I was sooner. I thought you would have guessed—”

  “You should’ve told me,” I cut him off with an irritable sigh. I was still pissed, but I was also embarrassed. “I should apologize too for not recognizing you. You just look so different.”

  “Good thing or bad thing?” he joked.

  “Good, as long as it hasn’t gone to your head, Mr. Wide Receiver. I kind of liked the timid kid with the crappy spiral. He needed to loosen up a bit, but he was pretty cool. Definitely cooler than his dickhead brother.”

  “Really? Well if it helps at all, my spiral’s still crappy, my collegiate brother is still a dickhead, and I’m pretty sure I turned back into that twelve-year-old wuss last week when you pressed the blade to my neck.”

  I wrinkled my nose. “Ah, I’m sorry about that. Old habits.”

  “Right.” He shrugged with a smile and slid his hands into his front pockets, tightening the muscles in his forearms. My eyes were drawn to them, then started traveling up, tracing their veins, wondering how everything looked under his Deadmau5 T-shirt.

  The anger and frustration I’d felt minutes ago had already dissolved, leaving me stupefied. I was getting sucked into a masculine vortex deeper than I ever had, and the fact that we’d shared some time together years ago only weakened my resolve faster. It was an automatic connection, one that didn’t need to be built. Even though I hadn’t recognized it last week, that connection was the thing that scared me. It was the thing I always hid from, every time, with every guy. I didn’t want more. More led to questions, questions about the future, about the past. Questions that I never wanted to answer.

  “We better go over some things before we open. Saturdays can get busy,” he said, moving out to the loft.

  I released a slow breath and swept my hair over my shoulder to cool my neck. Working here would be a lot harder than I thought.

  Hours went by fast, blurred with information, long glances, and lingering touches. I couldn’t help myself, and I knew he couldn’t either. It wasn’t hard to tell. His eyes roamed my body just as much as mine took him in. He went over normal shop procedures first—handling customers and answering the phone—and we ended up standing closer each time we moved. Organizing the CD and record shelves, we discussed our favorites and he let me choose what tracks we listened to. Behind the counter, I used any reason I could to scoot by him. When he went over inventory info on the computer, he reached across me and leaned in close enough to surround me completely. The sensation had my body buzzing. I watched his hand navigate the keyboard, wondering how it would feel if he touched me on purpose, dropping all ambiguity. After he finished showing me the equipment lists, he turned his head and paused an extended moment. His breath breezed into my hair and all of my nerves surged with desire.

  Close to the end of my shift, he complimented me as a customer left with a new pair of headphones. “Good job with the register. I know it’s different than working at a restaurant, but you’re picking it up pretty quickly.”

  “Thanks.” I turned to face him. “I think my biggest problem will be the DJ equipment. If anyone asks me, I have no clue what to recommend.”

  He rested a hand on the counter and tapped his fingers quietly. “It might be easier to understand if I show you how everything works. Turntables, mixers, interfaces. I could go over it all with you, if you want.”

  I thought about his arms wrapping around me as he worked the decks, and it was an easy decision. “I’d like that. Yeah.”

  He smiled and glanced at the clock on the wall. “It’ll have to wait until next Saturday, though. I’m not here tomorrow, and I work at my parent’s shop during the week.”

  “Their business has done pretty well here, huh?”

  He nodded and his eyes dropped briefly. “It does okay. Have you been over there?”

  “No. My mom’s boss mentioned that a few employees from your shop are regulars at The Twisted Grape.”

  “Your mom’s working there again? I’ve met Tony. Great guy.”

  “He is. He asked her to manage this restaurant again. More pay. Old friends. She couldn’t refuse, so here we are.”

  “Next time I’m in there, I’ll have to remember to compliment him on more than his amazing crab ravioli.”

  “Really?” I asked in a serious tone, quirking an eyebrow. It wasn’t an innocent question, it was a dare.

  “Yeah, really,” he replied as his fingers tapped again.

  “You nervous?” I cocked a crooked smile. His eyebrows scrunched inquisitively, so I slid my hand across the counter and covered the tips of his fingers with mine. “You tap these when you’re nervous. I remember you doing it when I broke into the concession stand.”

  He raked his bottom lip between his teeth, biting a smile. “Sometimes it’s nerves.” His fingers threaded between mine the smallest bit. “Sometimes it’s excitement. Or maybe it’s just old habits,” he admitted, lifting his eyes from our fingers and looking into mine.

  Hazel. That was definitely his eye color. Light brown marbled with green in a mix that I wanted to fall into and run away from at the same time.

  In one fluid movement, he stepped forward and backed me against the counter, eliminating all the space between us. One hand covered mine, pinning it gently to the glass as the other grazed my neck.

  He paused, eyes flickering as he searched my face for a long intense moment. My lips parted with a deep breath and my body shivered with anticipation. “Am I making you nervous?” he whispered, trailing his fingers farther up my neck to cradle my jaw.

  No. Yes. “Maybe.”

  His eyes smiled in the faintest way, narrowing briefly. The warmth of his hand spread down my neck and rolled over my skin, heating my entire body. I was paralyzed, unable to move, unable to breathe. His grip tightened, then he pressed his lips to mine. His touch was firm, determined. There was no more ambiguity. It was exactly what I wanted.

  He released my hand and moved his up to hold the other side of my face. The tip of his tongue gently touched my lips and I opened for him, wanting to taste him. Our tongues met and explored each other, swirling and rolling together. When I felt his legs push against mine, I wrapped my hands around his back and pulled him even closer. I wanted more.

  He deepened the kiss, holding my face as his tongue caressed mine.

  Is this real? Am I kissing Stripes? I couldn’t believe how much he had changed. He was more confident and more assured, but the sweet, timid kid was still there too.

  His lips slowed, kissing me once more before backing away with a lopsided smile. “I’m so glad you didn’t pull your knife on me.”

  “Guess that means I liked it then,” I joked with a chuckle. “Looks like you’ve learned some new skills since playing ball in River Park.”

  “I have, but I think we should run some practice drills with these new skills. Can’t have too much practice.”

  I grinned and reluctantly slid my hands down his back. “I do have a thing for practice drills.”

  The front door opened and Damian jumped away from my body, startling me. I turned toward the interruption, smoothing my hands down the front of my shirt, trying to wipe away the shameful feeling his hasty retreat had stirred up. Maybe we shouldn’t have let that kiss happen at work. That must have been the reason he’d jumped away.

  “I tried to call you, but I figured you were busy with a customer,” a tall, dark-haired woman said, marching toward the counter with her eyes in her handbag, which probably weighed as much as my jacket. She stopped her designer high-heeled boots on the other side of the counter and finally looked up. “And who is this?” she asked, her voice climbing.

  “Hey Mom,” Damian replied.

  Mom? Oh.

  “This is Annisyn. Annisyn, my mom, Alexandria Mead.” Damian nodded toward her.

  “Lovely to meet you, Annisyn,” she said with a pinched smile.


  “You too, Mrs. Mead,” I said, watching her take in what she could see of me.

  When her eyes returned to my face, she pinched one more smile before turning to face Damian. “I wanted to let you know that we are eating a late dinner at the club tonight. Julia’s parents invited us last minute. I’m heading over to the florist now to grab some flowers for you to give her. Lillies, right? Isn’t that what you bought her when she came home from her trip to Venice over the summer?”

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” he replied.

  “What? Why on earth not? She gushed about them for days.” She raised her pristine eyebrows.

  “You know that’s not what I meant,” he replied, glancing over at me for the briefest second as his fingers tapped the counter. Her eyes narrowed as she watched us.

  Searching for an escape, I turned to the clock on the wall. Twelve ten. “I should grab my stuff and take off,” I said, hitching a thumb over my shoulder.

  The message was loud and clear, whether it was intentional or not: he had a girlfriend.

  Whatever, I thought, shaking my head. Did it really matter? It wasn’t the first time it had happened. I’d hooked up with other guys who were less than honest about their relationship status. They never mattered, though, since I never wanted them to stick around.

  This time, though, it actually stung a little.

  I rushed back downstairs, wrenching my jacket around my body. Damian’s eyes tracked me on the way to the door, and his mom turned to look.

  “Later, Stripes. Have a nice dinner,” I said, shoving the door open and stepping out into the snow.

  “You okay?” Damian shifted beside me, rubbing his arm against mine in the process. The binds at our elbows were now tied together and secured to the lowest wood railing of the stairs.

  I wiggled my arms, but there was very little room to move. Looking down at the material connecting our ankles, I wondered if there was another way to get free. “Aside from the headache, yeah. You?”

  Damian didn’t look at me. His eyes remained forward, staring blankly off toward the kitchen. We were farther from the light, but I could still see each of his features: the eyes that would look at me like I was the only other person alive, the thin nose that would brush my skin whenever he kissed the back of my neck, the plump lower lip that he’d sometimes bite when I dug my fingernails into his back.