by Nicole Marsh
A light smile graces Collin’s lips and he looks away again. “Yeah, she’s the best. She’s my mom, we don’t say step or half or anything in my family.”
When his eyes meet mine again, I realize we both were inching closer as we spoke. His arm is warm, wrapped low around my waist and supporting the weight of my arm tucked around his side. Only about three inches separate our faces now.
“Thanks for listening McKenzie, we’re not as different as you thought, huh?” He drawls out the question like he’s reading all the thoughts racing through my mind.
“I guess not, Collin,” I respond lightly. I force my tone to remain positive, despite all the heavy emotions our confessions stirred, but more importantly, the secret I still hold, unable to part with the words so shortly after gaining Collin’s confidence.
“Will you stay in here with me?” Collin asks, our faces still close, breaths intermingling.
“Yeah, I’d like that,” I whisper, my lips practically touching his with the words.
He tilts closer and presses a soft, gentle kiss against my lips, then he slowly rises from our seat at the edge of the bed. “Do you need something to wear?” He asks as he ambles across the room towards his dresser.
“No, I still have the stuff from yesterday,” I reply and hop off the bed. Letting myself out of Collin’s room, I wander down the hall, and distractedly prepare to go to sleep, my body running through the motions as my mind reflects on my conversation with Collin.
When I return to his room, he’s turned off the overhead light and the room is bathed in the dim glow of the bedside lamp. My eyes search for Collin and find him already under the covers with the far side turned down, as if it’s waiting for me. The tanned skin of his chest is peeking out from the navy bedding and I’m drawn forward, ready to see him shirtless again. I stroll to the far side and slide in, after placing my clunky cell on the nightstand. Keeping the covers lifted an extra second longer than necessary, I steal a quick glance at the guy occupying the space next to me.
His abs are just as defined as I remember with a light dusting of golden hair leading into his boxers. He flexes the muscles under my watchful gaze and I chuckle, dropping the sheet. “You caught me,” I admit, my hands raised in the air in mock surrender.
Collin chuckles, grabbing onto one of my wrists, and yanking me towards him. I roll across the bed, closing the gap of the couple inches I originally had left between us. He wraps his arm around me and pulls me against him while he stays on his back. His other hand finds the back of my thigh and tugs it across his legs so we’re completely intertwined with my body laying half-atop his.
He leaves one hand resting against my thigh and the other against my side, exhaling a deep, contented sigh. The sound conveys he’s happy and peaceful, which he confirms by brushing his lips lightly against my forehead and whispering, “I’m glad you’re here McKenzie.”
The click of the lamp punctuates the near silence and the room falls into darkness. Collin’s breathing quickly evens out into long, deep inhales and exhales, his chest rising in a steady cadence indicating he’s already welcomed sleep.
Despite Collin’s heat seeping into my bones as we lay on the mattress created by superior life forms, I’m restless. Guilt nibbles at my intestines as I replay our conversation from this evening.
I tried to tell him; I really did.
What was I supposed to say after he told me his truth? ‘I’m sorry about your mom, oh by the way I originally befriended you to rob your house, but now I don’t want to because I have an enormous crush on you?’ For some reason that doesn’t feel like it would go over well.
I continue mulling over the issue into the early morning hours, until I eventually fall into an uneasy sleep. One where I dream up a hundred scenarios of how Collin dumps me like yesterday’s garbage after he finds out what I’ve been hiding from him.
Chapter 23
I wake slowly, stretching my muscles and luxuriating in the amazing comfort offered by the beds in the Franzen house. My skin is cool from their air conditioning, their bedding soft against my skin, and the smell of sunshine drifts into my nostrils with each breath.
Sunshine.
My eyes fly open as the memory of falling asleep in Collin’s bed rushes to the forefront of my mind. I discreetly check my face and pillow for drool before flipping over. I expect to see Collin on the other side of the bed, but it—and the entire room—is empty. Frowning slightly, I slide out from under the covers and wander to the attached bathroom.
After I check inside for Collin, I take care of my morning business, then return to the main room. Wandering to the door, I wonder where he’s disappeared to and intend to continue my search downstairs. I take a couple steps past the bed, then the door leading to the hall bursts into the room. I jump back, startled and a little concerned.
What the hell?
Collin comes barreling through the doorway, his arms laden down by a tray overflowing with food. He has it precariously balanced, with his foot still lifted in the air like he kicked in the door to enter. His emerald gaze connects with mine and he stops short.
“Well crap, I was trying to do breakfast in bed,” he drawls, disappointment peppering the look of concentration on his face.
Giggling, I twirl around, retreating to the bed and sliding back under the covers. Once I’m comfortably settled, with a pillow propping up my back, my chocolate gaze meets Collin’s. “Serve me breakfast, Serf,” I announce, slightly joking but also surprisingly hungry when confronted with a tray full of waffles, fruit, yogurt, and bacon.
Collin laughs, but obeys my command. He settles the tray next to me on the bed before joining me under the covers. His long legs are angled towards me, his body curved around the tray so our feet can touch each other. He hands me a glass of orange juice and a fork, then the two of us dig into our meal unceremoniously.
I attack the waffles first. They’re crisp and fluffy at the same time, unlike the kind I usually buy from the freezer section. These are clearly homemade, or at least made with some type of mix and a waffle maker. The buttery, fluffy goodness is dripping in syrup when it touches my lips and I immediately groan at the flavorful taste.
A girl could get used to eating like this.
Collin laughs, and I realize I’ve spoken the words aloud. A light flush crest my cheeks, but my embarrassment lessens when he shoots me a heated look and responds, “I’ll let you sleep in my bed and make you breakfast any day of the week.” His warm drawl is raspy and lustful, his gaze flitting to my lips before he takes a slow bite of the waffles himself.
Before I’m able to form a response, a loud, electronic sounding beep blares from my clunky cell on the nightstand. As I scramble to pick it up, shutting off the ancient alarm, I remember my shift at the motel today that Mr. Mouchard didn’t cancel.
“Thank you so much for breakfast,” I rush out as I gently slide from under the covers, careful so I don’t disturb the tray still stacked with food. “But I forgot I have to be at work in forty minutes.”
I sprint towards the door, already out in the hall when Collin’s words reach my ears. “I’ll drive you. Come downstairs when you’re ready to leave.”
Without responding, I run to my temporary bedroom and sift through the small pile of belongings I have. A curse leaves my lips when I remember I haven’t been home since dinner on Thursday, so I don’t have my work shirt with me.
In record time, I brush my hair and tie it off into a quick French braid before donning a pair of black pants, a t-shirt, and tennis shoes, all courtesy of Katie. I scurry down the hall and fly down the steps, barely pausing for breath when I reach Collin. “I need to go home first, for my work shirt,” I wheeze out.
He nods and grabs my hand, his warm palm wrapping around mine before he tugs me through the door, his dark SUV already idling in the driveway. A brief thought strikes me, reminding me how different our lives are that he can leave his car on with the key in the ignition in his neighborhood. If he did that
a few miles away in mine, he’d probably return to find his car stolen in under a minute. Brushing the thought aside, I clamber in and buckle my seat belt.
Collin drives us silently, the crooning of the radio the only noise in the car. I use the time to calm my stressed nerves. Since I’m being driven and not biking, I’ll be on time for work. The thought fills me with gratitude and I look across the front seat at the handsome, kind face beside me. Emerald eyes meet mine and I offer a brief smile.
Reaching across the console, I snag Collin’s large, warm hand and squeeze it. He doesn’t allow me to retreat, but rather intertwines our fingers while his gaze remains focused out the windshield.
I’m thankful he offered to drive and doesn’t seem upset, even though I spoiled his thoughtful and delicious breakfast plans. I jot down a mental note: I need to find some way to make up for ruining this morning, and to pay back all the other random bits of kindness Collin is always showing me. If my secret doesn’t ruin this, I want to be the kind of girl worthy of being in a relationship with someone so selfless.
Within minutes, we’re bumping along the dirt road leading to my trailer. Collin parks in his typical spot, but leaves the car running due to our time crunch. Pushing away thoughts of future makeup kindness, I hop out of the SUV and run to the front door, quickly fitting my key in the lock and rushing inside to change my shirt.
I find it almost immediately, pulling off Katie’s tee and donning my pale blue work top in one smooth movement. It takes a few seconds longer to find my clunky, ugly work shoes and toe those on as well. But once I do, I’m ready.
Not wanting to leave the nice, borrowed clothing behind, I scramble to locate a bag. Taking an extra couple of minutes, I grab the clothes I changed out of and a couple of extra outfits for school, work, and cheer. I leave my bedroom, stopping in the bathroom to collect my toiletries.
When I emerge in the living room, my duffle is almost full, and I feel like I have everything I need to survive a few weeks. My gaze sweeps across the room landing on my backpack. I scoop it off the hook near the door, then try to identify anything else I’m missing. Although, I’m not permanently moving in with the Franzen’s, at least not to my knowledge, I don’t want to be forced to return unless absolutely necessary.
The ancient coffee tin on the counter catches my eye and I stride towards it. In a split-second decision, I count out $180.00, the rest of what I owe this month plus the lot rent for next. Shoving the bills in my pocket, I leave the remainder of my cash in the tin--not wanting to bring it to my shift at the motel. I hesitate momentarily, also not wanting to leave the unassuming container out in plain sight, either.
My gaze flits around the tiny kitchen, then stops on the tallest cupboard. I climb onto the counter and force the canister into the far back corner inside, closing the door gently. Standing back, I survey the area, confident the hiding spot will keep my limited funds safe, until I return.
Duffel and backpack in hand, I leave the trailer and lock the door tightly behind me. A wave of nostalgia hits prior to facing Collin’s idling SUV. I intend to pay my lot rent at the office before we leave for the motel and I know I’ll probably be back here soon. The trailer will remain my home, but it feels like my life as I know it, is changing.
I whisper, “Goodbye.” The words a quiet message dissipating into the summer heat quickly; a wishful thought finally voiced aloud with no one else around to hear. It might be goodbye for now, but this little trailer houses thousands of memories of being alone and feeling hopeless. Leaving with half of my belongings today, feels like I’m closing one chapter of my life and beginning the next. Lingering just a second longer, my gaze rakes along the side of the trailer and then I turn away, ready to see what else senior year brings.
“Everything okay?” Collin drawls the question with his brow quirked, as I open the door to his SUV and clamber inside with my stuff.
“Yeah,” I sigh out. “It’s just strange, leaving with my things,” I respond, gesturing to the duffle and backpack crowded onto the floor near my feet.
Collin nods, his eyes sympathetic as they scan my face. “I can understand that, but I’m also selfishly happy to have you at my house and for you to not be alone. And it’s not like you can’t come back here,” he adds, echoing my thoughts from earlier, that this place still belongs to me. His gaze moves from my face to scan over the ancient tin trailer settled onto a plot of dying patchy grass. When his gaze returns, he offers a wide smile and asks, “Do you have everything? Are you ready for work?”
I nod briefly. Now that I’ve said goodbye, I’m ready to leave the park behind. But first, I have one more task to accomplish. “Can we stop by the Office really fast on our way out?”
He squeezes my hand briefly as a non-verbal confirmation, then places the car into gear and backs onto the bumpy road. After a short drive, he parks in front of the tired, squat office building. Facing me, he asks “Do you need me to come in with you?”
I wordlessly decline with a shake of my head, opening the door and hopping out onto the dead grass. With firm resolve, I yank open the office door, remembering the last time I was here, forced to part with an extra portion of my hard-earned money for nothing extra in return. Now, mere weeks later, I’m back to willingly pay ahead. Pushing the thought aside, I step up to Mildred’s desk, and wait for her to acknowledge me, which takes a few minutes as she’s immersed in scribbling on a notepad.
Her eyes briefly flit to my face, then I watch as she does a double take before checking her desk calendar. Instead of being insulted over her reaction to my presence in her office, prior to the last day to pay, I want to laugh. Stifling the giggle threating to burst free, and without waiting for her to ask why I’m here, I silently hold out the one-hundred and eighty dollars I counted from my tin.
She takes the money, counts it, then raises a brow. “For this month and next?”
“For this month and next,” I confirm with a nod.
“You can’t get it back once you pay,” she warns.
Despite the ominous feeling her words bring, my response is confident, “I won’t need to.”
Her gaze lingers on my face for a long minute, before finally returning to her desk. “Let me get you a receipt.”
Chapter 24
Just take a left onto this street over here and you can drop me off at the front corner of the white building right there,” I instruct. Indicating with my hand the ideal point for Collin to stop at the motel, one that prevents him from seeing inside and blocks Mr. Mouchard’s view of my ride, in case he happens to look outside.
“Or I could park in the lot and walk you up?” Collin offers, shooting me a charming grin. His smile is aimed in my direction, but his eyes are focused on the road, so he thankfully misses the panicked expression that briefly flits across my face.
I definitely do not want Collin to meet Mr. Mouchard. I’m not sure how he would react to my slimy boss, but I have a strong inclination to believe it would be somewhere in the realm of “not well”.
“Err, that’s okay. My boss has been cutting my shifts lately, I don’t want to give him any reasons to think I’m not a professional employee. Which includes my guy walking me to the door,” I lie, teasingly jabbing him in the arm and covering my unease with a slight grin.
“If you’re sure,” he agrees reluctantly as he pulls the SUV up to the corner, as I requested.
I throw out a quick, “Yes I’m sure. Thank you for the ride, I’m done at two.” Then I exit the car like my ass is on fire, slamming the door shut and sprinting away, without waiting for a response.
My feet pound against the paved ground as I rush toward the lobby, hoping Collin doesn’t change his mind in the brief time it takes me to reach the door. Even though I’m ten minutes early--and would much rather wait in the heat than spend any extra time with Mr. Mouchard--I pry open the ancient door and enter the air-conditioned room without a backward glance.
I stop short when I spot Candy’s pink hair stationed in fron
t of the computer. She’s typing something, her gaze intent on the screen while Mr. Mouchard stands right behind her. His crotch is pressing against her ass, his hands resting against either side of the counter, caging her in.
Candy doesn’t seem to notice his presence, or maybe she doesn’t care. She tilts her head to reference something beside the keyboard. Then a few more clicks sound across the lobby as she presses the keys in front of her, not paying him any attention as she carries on with her task.
It’s unclear if I make the sound of disgust building in my throat, or if it’s maybe a belated reaction to the sensor that dings when the door opens, but Mr. Mouchard’s beady eyes suddenly swing in my direction.
“McKenzie?” He asks.
The confusion in his tone doesn’t bode well for me and I hesitantly walk forward. “Hi, Mr. Mouchard. And Candy. I’m here for my ten o’clock shift… just a few minutes early,” I state in a falsely chipper tone.
Mr. Mouchard strokes a single finger across his thin mustache and gestures me forward with his right hand. He steps away from Candy in the direction of his office situated along the back wall, striding away without pausing to ensure I follow.
A cold feeling of dread dances down my spine, but I force my feet to the office entry. I’ve never been called into this room and I’m not certain I want to be stuck in such close quarters with a creep, like Mr. Mouchard. It doesn’t seem like I have much choice. My mind blanks on excuses to conduct this conversation in the open, as my leaden feet make slow progress across the old stained carpet covering the lobby floor. It takes eons for me to reach the office, but I finally make it.
