by Kandee Reyna
Stars start to invade my vision and I lean over to ground myself. I can feel my consciousness slipping quickly. My ears start to ring, and I slide to the floor trying to get my sight back that’s slowly disappearing in fuzzy black rings around my vision. I’m looking through a tunnel, my face is warm, my chest is tight, and then the darkness takes over. I lay my head on the cool marble trying to ward off the wave of nausea that wracks my body as sleep takes over my mind from my empty stomach, the tequila and the exertion of throwing up. “Lo.” I try to call out, but the vomit has left me hoarse and strained. I close my eyes, embracing the way the marble cools the heat of my skin. Just a few minutes, I tell myself.
Chapter Thirteen: Lo
I’m not sure, but I think I hear her call my name. I’m standing outside the door waiting for her to finish cleaning up. She demanded I give her some space, but really, I wanted to strip her bare and put her in the tub, wash the tequila from her body and soothe her stomach. She needs some water too, or her hangover will be killer in the morning. I did as she asked to keep her from freaking out. I want to be the one to take her home, and she didn’t agree outright, but she quit arguing, and that’s good enough for me. It went against everything in me to walk out and allow her the privacy to clean up. It’s probably for the best I’m standing out here waiting for her, anyway.
What the fuck was going on with me? My brain is fucking fried. I want her so damn bad, but this isn’t me.
I don’t chase pussy.
I don’t coddle pussy.
I fuck.
I leave.
I follow the same rules every time, and I make sure the bitches I fuck know the rules too, but I can’t with her. I can’t tell her the rules and expect her to follow them. I have a feeling she’d follow them too damn well and then I’d lose her. Christ. Listen to me. You can’t lose what you don’t fucking have in the first place, idiot.
I press my ear to the door. I thought I heard her same my name, but I hear nothing now. I knock on the door and wait. Nothing. “Renee, I’m going to open the door now.” I wait to see if she protests. Nothing. I push the door open and she’s laying on the floor in front of the sink. She looks as though she laid herself down, so at least I know she didn’t fall hard. I walk to her and squat down and touch her cheek. “Renee, Angel… Baby wake up.” She doesn’t even twitch. She’s out cold, the tequila and throwing up finally took over her body.
“Renee,” I shake her shoulder again and she groans. “Let me take you home with me and take care of you.”
“Fine, whatever.” She whispers, her voice hoarse from the vomit. Even in an alcohol induced coma, she’s full of sass.
I reach into my pocket and pull out my phone, sending a text to Max letting him know I’m heading home, and that I’m bringing company. I look around for her phone and see nothing. I start to pat her down and feel something in her bra. Got it. I smirk, shaking my head. The woman keeps her phone in her bra. Pressing the power button, I swipe the screen, happy to see that it’s not locked in this moment, but irritated she doesn’t protect her information. I pull up her texts and shoot off the same message to Krysta and Vivian, that she’d be staying with me tonight, and would call in the morning when she woke. Krysta’s name in her phone is “Krysss Go Best Friend, That’s my Best Friend Mayell” with a slew of emojis following it and Vivian’s name is “V-to-tha-I-to-tha-V-iannnnnnn” also followed by a bevy of emojis. I pull up her contacts and type in my phone numbers—all of them. Office, cell, and home. Then add my email in too for good measure. I stare at the blank “name” and consider what to put in. I type in just “Milo” for now, but I will be checking the next chance I get to see if she changes it to something else. My phone pings with a text from Max letting me know he’s back from the strip club and waiting downstairs for me. I scoop up Renee and walk her down the stairs. Time to go home.
Chapter Fourteen: Renee
I dig deeper into the bed, nuzzling my face into the pillow. It’s cold as crap in here. Krys must have turned the a/c down again. I let out a whine and fluff my pillow and turn on my side. I love when I’ve shaved my legs and have clean sheets. It’s the best feeling. I rub my legs back and forth and then stick my hand out to grab my phone off the nightstand, but I’m met with nothing but more bed. I frown and slit my eyes open trying to figure out if I got turned around somehow. What the hell—I open my eyes a little more, shielding them from the bright white light filtering in through French doors encased in windows on all three sides and sheer white curtains, and there’s a fucking table, yes, a breakfast table with a filled tray, in front of the right window. Where the hell am I? I start to panic a little and pull myself up in bed and look around. I’m in the middle of a king size, white, four poster bed. I feel tiny beneath the duvet surrounded by all the white pillows. The room is beautiful. The walls are a soft blue with white crown molding. The furniture in the room is all white with gray and silver decor. There’s a large silver vase of white hydrangeas across from the bed on the large dresser and there’s a slightly ajar door to the right. The entire room is immaculate, and looks as though no one—until now, has slept here before. I look over to the night stands on either side of the bed looking for my phone and spot it. I push through the pillows and blankets to get to it, but instantly sink back down into the bed after I grab it. I don’t know where the hell I am, but this bed is comfortable enough that my kidnapper can keep me a bit longer.
I immediately open my messages. There’s texts to both Krys and Viv telling them I’ll be sleeping at Lo’s. Holy fucking shit. At Lo’s. I give the room a once over again. Damn, boy. I have a new text from Lo and I open it, rolling my eyes and smirking at the fact that he not only had the sense to text my friends but also add his name into my phone. I click onto his contact and change his name to Sex and Confusion. It’s fitting.
Sex and Confusion: There’s food on the table for you when you wake up. I had to run out. There’s stuff in your bathroom if you’d like to shower. Don’t leave, we need to talk.
I roll my eyes at the fact he told me not to leave, rather than asked. I look at the time stamp. He sent it at 9:00 and it’s now 11:00. I rock my neck from side to side, not at all surprised I’m not stiff from sleeping in this pillowy bed, but completely surprised I don’t have a hangover. I roll out of heaven and look down. I’m dressed in a white t-shirt that’s a few sizes too big. It hits mid-thigh and the bright white of the room and shirt make my legs look dark and toned. I pad over to the table and take stock of what I’ve been left. There’s a few different types of muffins, fruit, and orange juice. Where’s the coffee though?
Looking to the door that’s open, I assume it’s the bathroom and head in. It’s not extravagant, but it has the same blue walls and a gray tiled shower, with sliding glass doors. On the counter there’s a black maxi dress, black lace underwear, a matching bra, and a pair of sandals. I walk over to them, trying to figure out if he’s left me with someone else’s clothing he had lying around, but surprisingly everything has tags and is in my size. A fluffy white towel hangs from the door of the shower, inviting me to get beneath the spray of warm water. I flip on the water and start to open drawers looking for a toothbrush when I catch a glance of myself in the mirror. I look gaunt and overly tired. My skin is pale and the eye makeup I wore last night is smeared and smudged. I now have a curly halo of hair that has escaped my ponytail while I slept. I’m a fucking mess, to be blunt. I flip the lock on the door and pull the shirt over my head and slide out of my bra and panties from last night. My skin feels sticky and there’s still a hollowness to my stomach from retching the night before.
Oh, my gosh. Last night! I’m such an idiot. I slink into the shower and piece together last nights events. I was drunk out of my mind by the time Lo showed back up in the room. It took everything I had to focus on him and the words he was saying to me. I thought I was doing a good job until I felt my stomach churning looking for a place to release the alcohol I’d consumed. I don’t think I even got a cha
nce to respond to the things he’d said to me, much less had time to process or consider whether he actually meant any of it. He said I was different. That he’d not sent gifts to anyone else in the past, but how the hell do I know that? How do I know that he’s not just feeding me lines of bullshit to get me to bend over again? Maybe that’s what he does. Uses women until he fucks them out of his system. I need to talk to Krysta. She seemed to know of him, about him. I have no idea who the hell he is. I don’t even know his last fucking name. Shit. This is like that Carrie Underwood song. How in the hell did I end up here instead of home, anyway? I was set on going home last night, but maybe I was blackout drunk and had him bring me here. I doubt this is his bedroom, so I guess we didn’t sleep together. I’m so damn confused. I don’t even know this motherfucker’s last name. I laugh at myself under the spay of the water. Nice turn your life is taking there, Renee.
I shut off the shower and wrap myself in the fluffy towel and twist another I find under the sink around my head. Hopefully there’ll be some kind of hair product in here, or my lion’s mane is going to scare poor Lo half to death. I start rifling through the cabinets opposite the sink. Bingo. The top cabinet has gel, a hair dryer, lotions, travel size deodorants and other products. This is clearly a guest room. I also find a drawer full of wrapped toothbrushes and toothpaste. I brush my teeth, scrunch my hair, and then get dressed in my new clothes. The dress is soft and light. It’s a plain black maxi with sleeveless shoulders and a deep “v” neckline. It’s fitted around my ribs and flows over my hips to the floor. There’s a slit on the left that goes up to my thigh. I slip on the black sandals and pick up my dirty clothes from the floor, unsure what to do with them. There’s still no sign of Lo in the bedroom so I place them on the bed and sit down at the table and text Krysta.
Me: I’m at Lo’s house still. You gonna be home later?
Krys: Yup. I’ll be here all day. I can’t wait until you get here!!!!! Are you okay, though?
Typical Krysta. Wants the details but also wants to make sure I’m okay. I fucking love her.
Me: Yeah, I think I’m good. Drank wayyyy too much last night. I don’t remember coming here. What’s his last name, by the way?
Krysta sends back row after row of laughing emojis. Well, at least someone sees the humor in my irresponsibility. Jesus.
Krys: It’s Turner. Milo Turner. Look him up on Google if you want. Fucker is rich as shit.
Me: I’m not Googling him! …you do it. LOL
Krys: 10-4 bitch! I’ll Google and have it allll ready for you when you get here. Have fun but get back soon.
Me: Oh, Lorttt. Now I’m scared. I don’t need his bank account information. I’m just curious. Innocent curiosity. ??
Krys: Riiiiight. Innocent, slut.
I throw my phone down. I’m not sure I even want to know what she ends up finding. She knows where to look since her dad knows him, apparently. I doubt he has Facebook or any other social media. He just doesn’t seem the type. He seems cut off, and social media would require him to share a little about himself. I need coffee to properly think about this crap. While this little breakfast plate is cute and shit, coffee comes first. I’m gonna have to venture out. I know he said to wait for him, but if I don’t find coffee, and fast, I’ll need to dip… to the nearest Starbucks.
I open the door to the room slowly and peek out. I’m not sure why I’m trying to be quiet, but I’m sneaking out the door like a wayward teen sneaking out on a Friday night for a kegger. To my right, there’s a door that leads to what looks like the back yard, and there’s some closed doors across the hall. I turn left, and it leads me into a living area. Everything is light and airy but has a masculine feel to it. Black leather couches and arm chairs and darkly stained wood furniture contrast with the beige carpet and light gray walls. The carpet allows me to walk into the living room silently. I find the kitchen on the other side of the living room, separated by a marble bar. The gray counters, white cabinets, and stainless-steel appliances make it look sterile and unused, but I spot a Keurig in the corner. Yahtzee. I find cups hanging on little hooks beside the machine and a spinning coffee tree with expensive coffee’s in various flavors. I choose Starbucks Pike Place Roast and pop it in, then head to the refrigerator to find creamer.
The front door opens while I’m taking my first sip and I freeze. A large man with a buzz cut wearing an expensive suit walks through the door. He has an ear piece in his ear like he’s part of the Secret Service. He’s got to be at least 6’4, and even in the well-tailored suit, his muscles look like they’re close to breaking free. His eyes go straight to me and he grins a knowing grin, like he knows who I am, where I’m from, and what I’ve done with my entire life. Who the hell is this guy, and where the actual fuck is Lo? He looks so damn familiar though. Where the fuck do I know this guy from? The delivery guy! Of course!
“You feeling okay this morning? You were out cold last night.” He makes his way into the kitchen and I back further against the counter. He holds up his hands and gives a lazy grin, “It’s okay. I’m Max, Lo’s friend and the head of security. I didn’t mean to scare you.” I relax a little, but I’m still on edge. I’m in a house I don’t know, I have no idea what part of town I’m in, and now there’s a huge man standing across from me.
“Umm… I’m feeling fine. Thanks. You’re the guy who came to my apartment yesterday.” I’m just stating stupid facts, not even asking a question. “Uh, do you happen to know where Lo is?”
“Yeah, he should be here soon.” Okay… The ‘yeah’ was a defensive way of saying, “I know where he is, but it’s not your business.”
“Oh, okay. Well, I think I’m just going to call a car. I don’t want to impose or anything and I have things… things I need to take care of at home.” I’m a damned liar. I have nothing to do at home but veg out with Krysta and look at the stuff she’s probably already found on Google. I wouldn’t be surprised if she researched him well enough to write a paper.
“Nah. Lo wants you to wait here. If it’s important I can take you to your apartment and let him know you’re leaving.” He’s no nonsense. He’s got his arms crossed over his chest and his domineering presence takes over the room. I can tell he’s not the type of person I can get shit past. He’s on to me, and doesn’t even care if I know it, but I try again anyway.
“Well, I can always just text him.” After I get home. His eyebrows raise, and I question whether I said that last part out loud. “I really should be getting home. I hadn’t planned on spending the night here.” Or anywhere with Lo. I honestly want to go home because I’m embarrassed about last night more than anything. I can’t believe I puked my guts out and then blacked-out on him. I like to drink as much as the next college girl, but I was shit-faced last night, and that’s not usually something I do. Most of the time, I pride myself on being able to hold my liquor, I can only remember one other time I was black-out drunk and it was much less embarrassing than this. A flashback of his eyes on me while he held the cool rag to the back of my neck last night invades my memories. His handsome eyes looked pained to see me on the floor, the worry reflected in his eyes, turning the deep brown to a honey color. The broodiness that was ever present was softer last night and I have no idea how I’m ever going to rid my mind of Lo, or if I even want to. Heat rises to my cheeks when I realize I’m still standing in the kitchen with, what’s his name? Oh, yeah, Max. He’s studying me and hasn’t answered my request to be taken home. He breaks his gaze and looks down at his phone that’s silently gained his attention. It must be connected to that earpiece.
“Be careful, Renee. He’s a broody motherfucker, but I’ve never seen him so bent out of shape over a woman.” He turns and heads for the stairs. I’m standing in the kitchen watching him walk away with my mouth hanging open like a dumbass while he climbs the steps. I can’t figure out if the warning was to me or for me. He also didn’t say if he’s taking me home or not. I open my mouth to call him back, but the door swings open and in steps Lo
.
Max is forgotten, gone from my mind. Max, who? Lo’s dressed casually in a pair of dark-washed jeans, a crisp white t-shirt and a pair of black converse. My mouth waters. He looks every bit like a boy from the wrong side of the tracks and nothing like the owner of multiple, very successful, businesses. My heart is pounding in my chest and I feel lightheaded at the sight of him. His eyes are back to being dark and sullen, and I raise my cup, holding it with both hands, taking a drink to try and hide my shaking. He pauses with the door still open and nods a greeting to Max at the top of the stairs, before closing it and moving across the floor to me. His steps are sultry and even his walk projects dominance with each step. The closer he comes, the more visible it is that something is bothering him. His eyes are dark, almost black, and a “v” has formed between his eyebrows. I worry that it’s because of me, but he closes the space between us without hesitation and grips my face with both hands, dropping a soft, gentle kiss on my lips that pulls at something deep within me. He moves away before I’m ready and I’m left wanting more. Our foreheads are touching, and he suddenly looks more relaxed than when he first arrived.
“Thank you for staying.” His eyes pierce into mine and are full of sincerity and hunger. “I worried all morning I’d come home to find you gone before we could talk. How are you feeling?” He steps back and takes in my appearance. “I’m glad the clothes fit.” He reaches for a strand of hair on my shoulder and twirls the still damp curl around his finger. “I love your hair. I was disappointed last night to see you’d straightened it.” My breaths are short and choppy from the kiss, and I want nothing more than to grab his face and haul his mouth back to mine, I like this side of Lo. He drops the curl back on my shoulder and is looking at me expectantly. Shit… he asked me something, right?
