by Amy Faye
Cocking an eyebrow up, he smiled. “So, gonna set me up in your bedroom then? I think I know something that could help us both relax.” He hoped that she would laugh.
She didn't.
“No, and don't expect a ring and fake marriage to change that. We are never, ever having sex. Got that?” She pointed a finger and shoved it into his chest. It hurt, a little.
His mind started to race when she touched him, but he didn't curl up into a ball and fall into flashbacks. Elle was starting to seem less like a threat, and more like a challenge. He would take that over PTSD any day, so he went with it. He'd have his fun with her, and maybe convince her to fuck him. Yeah, that sounded good.
“Is that so?” He stepped closer to her, purposefully invading her personal space. She reacted just how he wanted her to. The carefully crafted wall of anger she put up around herself started to crumble, and she showed just how fearful and small she really felt. She was beautiful with a slight wobble in her bottom lip.
“I have to imagine that you have your own reasons for agreeing to this marriage. What is it? Bills? School? This house?” She let out a short gasp that told him that was his answer. “Ah. So you do have a weakness. Why all of this hostility? I'm not forcing this on you. In fact, don't you think you owe me, since I'm helping you keep this house?”
“Owe you?!” She screamed, raising her hand to slap him. His withering look made her think twice about it. She stepped back again, crossing her arms. “You said something about medical bills. I think you are the one who actually owes me, dick!”
He chuckled and stepped right into her space again, dropping his voice to a growling whisper. “Oh, so I owe you dick now, huh? I think I can agree to that.”
“Oh my God!” She yelled, throwing up her hands as she spun away from him. “That's the guest room! You're staying there, and far away from me. Got it? I'm locking my bedroom door, so don't even try to come in.”
“Wait, Elle,” he tried to stop her, but she was down the hallway and closing her door already.
“Just leave me alone!” Her voice told him he had better listen.
Troy felt bad for exactly thirty seconds before he had to laugh. She was going to be fun, but he hoped she wouldn't hate him forever. Maybe he shouldn't have been so hard on her.
Still, if being a prick made it easier on him to live with a woman, he had to take it. He couldn't risk hurting himself, or even worse her, during a flashback.
A flashback to that woman with the golden-brown skin, her blue scarf blowing in the night wind. The way she stepped closer to them haunted him, the slightly erotic, seductive nature of it. He remembered the sound of his friend's voice, speaking in Arabic, asking if she needed help. She only smiled as she cried.
Troy fell to the floor, the breath completely gone from his lungs. Oh, fuck, he thought, crawling into the guest bedroom. He opened his backpack and pulled out the sleeping pills he hated taking. He hated how they made him feel the next morning, the way they blocked out any dreams at all, leaving him only with blackness.
But blackness was better than red against yellow sand. Blackness was better than visions of a missing hand and a half-gone face. Blackness was better than the orange, yellow, white of the explosion. He would prefer blackness over the memories.
Crawling up into his bed, Roman following closely behind, he kicked off the covers and wrapped his arms around the second pillow, shuddering into the lingering memories. The only thing that took his mind off of them, for just a moment, was thinking about Elle's face. She was the only distraction he had.
“I think I like her, Roman,” he told his dog, running his fingers through the fur. Roman was asleep, his back pressed up against Troy's stomach. Troy clenched the pillow closer to his chest, shutting his eyes tight as the silent blackness finally overcame the sights and sound of the desert that were permanently etched into his mind.
Chapter 4
Elle
When Elle woke up, she set about her day as usual. It was Wednesday, which meant she didn't have class until 2, so she laid in bed for an hour watching Youtube videos before she got up to face the task of eating breakfast and taking a shower.
She felt, vaguely, like she was forgetting something. Maybe it was a weird dream, but her mind just felt like something was wrong, but she could not quite figure out what it was.
Stepping out into the hallway wearing nothing but a large t-shirt and panties, she scratched the back of her head and descended the stairs to the kitchen. That's when she heard it. Someone was cooking.
Oh shit.
Yesterday's shit-show suddenly flowed back to her as she pressed herself against the wall between her and her new roommate. He was up and cooking some meat. Looking around the corner, she saw that his dog was sitting patiently next to him, his bushy tail wagging. Roman was totally devoted to Troy.
Okay, Elle, try to play it cool. Don't freak out on him. Don't act like your normal, neurotic self. She had spent the night trying to think of ways to make him miserable so he would leave, but she didn't have it in her to follow through on them. He was forced into the wedding as much as she was. What had her grandmother been thinking? Did her own parents know about that agreement with Ina?
She had to admit, though, that he was nice on the eyes. A nice, tight ass in boxer briefs, muscular legs, fit arms that she wanted to wrap around her. Wait, what?
Shaking her head, she stepped into the kitchen and opened the fridge, glancing at him from the corner of her eye. He was watching her, looking up and down her body. She wanted to yell at him, but at the same time she enjoyed his appreciation. No one had ever appreciated her body before.
“Morning,” she said, still sounding groggy.
He pushed around the hamburger meat in the skillet with a wooden spoon and nodded. “Good morning to you, too. So you're a bit of a late riser, huh? We've been up since 6.”
“Yeah, I guess. I don't have a reason to be up early today.” She shrugged, taking the bread off of the top of the fridge and putting two slices into the toaster.
“No work?” He asked. Roman sniffed the air, looking excite for his meal.
“Nope, not today.” Elle watched as he drained the fat into the empty sauce jar he found below her sink and then put the ground beef on a plate.
“I usually feed him raw, but I didn't know if your ground beef was fresh. Hope you don't mind. Not like we need to worry about the money for some ground beef anymore.”
“Yeah, I guess not. I bought it yesterday so it would have probably been fine.”
“Nah,” he shook his head. “I only feed him really, really fresh meat. Do you know of any butchers around here? I'll probably be out to see them multiple times a day.”
Elle frowned, thinking. “I've never been to one, so I don't know. Sorry.”
He waved off her apology and her toast popped up. She grabbed it and layered butter on it, then cinnamon and sugar. Admiring his chest with fleeting glances, she saw how ripped he was. Man, he really must care about his body. He looked tough, lean and sinewy.
“Look,” he started, sitting at the table. It was next to a bright, south facing window, so he seemed to glow in the morning light. “I don't actually want to piss you off constantly. I'm sorry for how we started off. I have some… issues with new people, I guess. Do you think I could buy some pizza tonight, maybe some beers too, and we could get to know each other?”
“I'm underage,” she said, munching on her toast.
Chuckling, he looked at her with amusement. “What, like that's ever stopped anyone before?”
“Well, I've never had a drink before.”
His eyebrows went up and his mouth dropped open. “No way! Okay, I'll pick up some good stuff. I probably have enough in my account for that before the old bats give us our money.”
“When are they going to do that, by the way?”
He shrugged. “No clue. Soon, I hope. Are you busy today, or do you have the day off?”
She wondered again why he needed
the money so badly. He seemed like the kind of guy who had his life together, had a vision, knew where he was going and what he wanted.
First impressions could be deceiving, she reasoned.
“I've got classes until 9. I'll probably be home by 9:30. Sorry if that's too late for you, early bird,” she smiled.
“Oh? What are you studying?”
“I'm getting a bachelors in computer science before I get my masters in library science. I want to be a librarian. My mother was one, too.” She was at risk of tearing up if she talked about her mother too much, but Troy was thankfully more interested in other things.
“That's really cool. Is college hard? I thought about going to school after I left the army.” He seemed like he had more to say, but he cut himself short.
“No,” she answered tentatively. “It's not too hard, but I've always been good with computers.” Wait, he had been in the army? “Oh, thank you for your service!” She blurted out, too loudly.
Troy laughed at her again, a throaty laugh that she hated herself for finding attractive. “So. Pizza at 9:30?”
She thought about it. Could she really get along with Troy? Did she even want to? “Fine. I don't have class until 2 again tomorrow, so a late night will be fine for me.”
“Perfect. I have to go look for a butcher and set up an appointment, so I'm going to be out for a while. I wrote down my cell number and put it on the fridge if you need me. Text me later so I get your number.”
“Okay,” she said, taking the piece of paper off of the fridge. She texted him before he even left, so she wouldn't forget, and then Troy put a leash on Roman and they rode off on his motorcycle. It was funny to her, how the dog held on to Troy like a human would. She watched until they turned off of her street, smiling.
Well, this is weird. I think I'm starting to like this guy. Maybe not romantically, but I could see him as a friend. Maybe Ina and Grandma were right?
She shook her head. No way. What they're doing is wrong, and one day they'll understand that. She set her jaw, then realized she had been standing in front of Troy have naked the whole time. Blushing hard, she ran up the stairs and into the shower.
A realization slowly came over her. What if he was just trying to get into her pants? She resolved not to drink at the same time as visions of him seducing her filled her head. She let her hands wander as she enjoyed them.
No harm in thinking about what will never happen. This will make it easier for me to avoid actually sleeping with him.
At least that's what she thought. For a while.
Troy
Elle slammed the door as she came home, letting out a hot breath of air and stomping upstairs. Troy thought that he could hear a muffled scream, perhaps into a pillow, before the girl came back down and sat on the couch next to him. She touched Roman, who sniffed at her and licked her hand. The dog moved closer to her, leaning against her calves.
“What's got you so hot?” He asked, leaning against the arm of the couch to face her. He had been waiting excitedly for her to come home, to his surprise. He was looking forward to chatting with a woman that didn't scare him to death.
Which wasn't to say she didn't scare him. He just wasn't terrified of her anymore. It was a nice change of pace. Something about being forced to spend time with her for a year was helping him to deal with the bit of fear he had left.
“Unreasonable teachers that think they can punish someone just for missing the first, useless damn class of the semester, as if they were going to learn anything in a stupid computer forensics class on the very first day when she even admitted she was just going over the stupid syllabus but that's no excuse!” She threw up her hands and let out a frustrated cry. “So now I'm on the list of people who can be removed if the class is too full, which it already is. I need to take at least three classes to keep my financial aid, too. This is so dumb.”
He watched her pout, staring off into space with a glare aimed at nothing in particular, and he found her exceedingly cute. He couldn't help but grin, shaking his head. “That really sucks, but I'm sure some others will drop the class and you'll be fine.”
“Yeah. Maybe. I just wish I could have explained why, but what professor is going to believe that I missed the class because of the trauma of being told I was getting married to someone I don't even know?”
“Heh. Yeah, that probably wouldn't have done you any favors.” He acted before he knew what he was doing, and pulled her into a tight hug. Her breath caught in her throat, and he froze once her body was pressed against his. She didn't fight him, but pulled away after a second. “Sorry. I don't know what came over me, I just wanted to comfort you.”
“It's alright,” she admitted. Her face was bright red. “I do actually feel a little better now. Thanks for letting me vent at you.”
“No problem. I'm pretty good at that, actually, and that's kind of what I wanted tonight to be. Just us talking, but I also noticed you had a gaming system. We could watch some Netflix on that if you want, and talk when the pizza gets here.”
She looked puzzled. “I don't have a Netflix account. I couldn't really afford it.”
“Yeah, I thought of that already.” He gave her a lopsided grin. “So I paid for an account. We're gonna have plenty of money soon, remember?”
“We shouldn't be spending it before we have it. Don't be so free with money or you'll go through it all.”
He shook his head. “Trust me. My parents were loaded. It would take three generations of people wasting it like I do. Anyway, it's only like ten dollars, so don't obsess over money so much.”
She laughed. “I do that, unfortunately. You're just going to have to get used to it.”
“I guess there are worse things to be neurotic about!”
He looked at the clock. The pizza would be there in a half hour, which gave them enough time to watch a TV show. Troy let Elle choose what they would watch before they ate, and then they would choose a movie together. Surprisingly, she decided on a horror show instead of a drama.
It was one he hadn't seen before, and it was definitely made for teens, but it was fun and had the perfect mix of mystery and gore. He thought he might enjoy watching that with her more often.
She shifted on the couch so that she was leaning with her legs to the side. The position accentuated her perfect curves, the deep dip from her hips to her waist. He watched the way her chest swelled with each breath, the smile she got when one of the teens on TV made a stupid joke about technology.
Elle was interesting. Not only did she put him at ease, but she knew technology and she had goals. He worried, for a moment, that he would hold her back. Our marriage isn't even going to be real, he reasoned. She can still do everything she wants to do, and I will never hold her back.
The thought crossed his mind about other relationships. Would it be acceptable for either of them to have other lovers? If their grandmas never found out, he wasn't sure if it mattered, but would she care? Would he?
Look at me, thinking about the future. So unlike me. He focused back on the TV, just in time for the doorbell to ring. “Pizza's here! Can you turn off the show and grab the beer from the fridge?”
“Sure,” she said, and left him to answer the door. Troy paid the delivery guy, tipping him an extra ten dollars. They settled back onto the couch, and Elle was the first to dig in.
“So,” he started, taking a bite of the pizza. He chose a national chain instead of something more local, since he didn't know what was good in Sedona. “Tell me about yourself. Like, your past.”
She thought, then shrugged. “I don't really know what to say. I was a loner in high school, and I'm a loner now. I just want to kind of skip to the part where I'm happy and have a family.”
He frowned. Was she really so unhappy with her life as it was? That couldn't be good. “Tell me about past boyfriends. Where did they fuck up, so I don't make the same mistakes?”
She gulped, and boy it was loud. Then she didn't say anything for a few very long mo
ments, taking a deep breath and holding it. “Well, I've never had a boyfriend. Loner, remember.”
“Wait. Are you a virgin?” Incredible! He knew then that he had to try and get her in bed. He'd never had a virgin before.
“Don't be a dick about it. Yes, I'm a virgin.” She took a sip of the beer. “This stuff is expensive? It tastes like shit.”
“All beer kind of tastes bad. It's an acquired taste, and it's about getting drunk, not about how good it is.” He shrugged. “Anyway, I like it.”
She took another sip, grimacing. God, she was adorable. Something about her made him want to cradle her face in his hands, kiss her nose, touch her lips…
As she ate, she drank more of the beer, hating it less and less with each sip. She was more than tipsy after the first one. The second one had her drunk. Then she started in on her third.
“Slow down there, lady,” he said, taking the half drunk beer from her. “This is your first time, you don't have to overdo it.”
“Whatever,” she said. “I jusht wanted to have shome fun. I'm shick of being pished off.” She was slurring her words, but he knew half of it was for show. She wasn't that drunk yet.
So damn cute.
“Hey, you wanna shee my yearbook? Then you'll know why no one wanted to fuck me. I was grosh looking.”
“Sure. Where is it?” She pointed to the book shelf, and he found it on the third shelf from the top. Her senior year high school yearbook, with not a single signature or farewell inside of it. Just looking at the thing made his heart hurt for her.
How many kids at his school had he ignored like she had been ignored?
“It'sh on like page twenty five,” she said, leaning back. “Get ready.”
He turned to that page, but she wasn't there. She was on the next page, though, smiling with braces. Her hair was double braided, and her face did look strangely thin.
“Shee? Grosh. That'sh why noooo one liked me.” She looked more hurt than her voice sounded.
“Really? Because I see the first glimpses of someone who would become drop dead gorgeous over time.” He looked at her, and saw the look of disbelief on her face. She rolled her eyes and told him to shut up. “No, seriously. You look beautiful.”
