by Bijou Hunter
Today, though, he wakes me from a drugged slumber and says I need to take a call.
“Someone best be in the hospital.”
“Junie Voss is making a stink down in the lobby. I assumed you’d like to handle it personally.”
Blinking rapidly, I try to keep my eyes open. Junie’s name wakes something primal in my brain, and I force my body into a sitting position. The next minutes are a blur. I hear Egor’s voice nearby and then Junie’s on the phone.
“You did hire someone to follow me,” she spits out, sounding enraged.
Her words should matter to me, but my mind is awash with the effects of the sleeping pills. I hear her accusing me of lying, and I think I respond.
“I want to see you,” Junie demands. “Come down here or let me come upstairs.”
“No.”
The word makes sense. Doped up and dressed in boxers, I’m in no position to go downstairs. Having Junie come up here to yell at me is out of the question. Inviting anyone into my home is a big step. Doing so while I’m barely conscious and she’s spitting fire just isn’t happening.
I don’t know exactly what Junie says next. She’s angry but not yelling. I watch her on the security feed as she stares up at the camera. Her finger points at it as if she’s pointing at me. Whatever she says this time, she doesn’t wait for a response. The call ends, and I watch her skate away from the front desk and out of the building. Stumbling back to bed, I promise myself I’ll smooth out things with Junie tomorrow.
CH 15
❁ Junie❁
How can I have a temper when I come from such a milquetoast bloodline? I’ve never noticed how short my fuse gets until I unceremoniously dump Asher. Only once I’m driving home do I wonder why I was so pissed in the first place. It’s not as if I didn’t know he was lying days ago. Clearly, my anger wasn’t about his lies or having me followed.
No, what got my blood boiling was the thought of Asher hiding in his penthouse where I’m not allowed to go. Once again, he refused to break his rules for me. No matter how much I hope we’re making progress, Asher insists on pushing me away.
He won’t—or can’t—change. No matter what I need, he’ll always choose to remain hidden away in his tower. I can’t compete with years of ingrained crazy.
Maybe that’s why I end up in my mother’s apartment with my head in her lap, feeling sorry for myself while watching Bad Moms.
“You never let me play with your hair,” Pollyanna said when I first cuddled with her. Now she probably wishes I’d get off her lap. Instead, she says, “Relationships are complicated.”
“I wasn’t ready for it to be over, but my temper got the better of me.”
“It’s possible he might get the help he needs, and you’ll reunite one day.”
Like water and oil, Mom and I have never been close. However, I will give her credit for knowing the right thing to say when someone’s bummed.
Despite her words and my wish for another chance, I know in my heart nothing will change. If Asher and I hadn’t ended today, we’d hit a wall on our next date or the following one. He would stand me up again or change plans when they didn’t suit his mood. He’s unable to control his needs, and I can’t deny I’m not particularly well-equipped to have a serious relationship either. I’ve never dated a man for more than a few weeks, and those guys weren’t anywhere as persnickety as Asher Ferrer.
“I might be better off alone. Men and I don’t seem to successfully mix.”
“You have plenty of time to find someone. If you never do, you’ll always have Mallory.”
“And you.”
“And me.”
Smiling up at my mom, I think about how impossible romance would be in her situation. Even if her heart wanted someone besides my father, she’d need a man capable of living their life together behind the walls of this apartment. Never going anywhere or having friends over, he would choose to limit his experiences to love my mother.
Am I capable of doing the same for Asher? Hiding away in his penthouse where he controls everything doesn’t sound like a dream life to me.
Possibly, my temper did me a favor by ending things now before I fell any harder for the sexy son of a bitch.
‧:❉:‧ ♂ ♀ ‧:❉:‧
❁ Asher ❁
Junie’s voice wakes me from my drug-induced slumber. I hear her calling my name, but she’s too far away to follow. I struggle to open my eyes and focus on where Junie waits for me.
Except she isn’t here. I stumble out of my bedroom to find Egor sitting on the couch, one leg crossed over the other with a hardcover book popped against his knee.
“Was Junie here?” I ask, only upright with the help of the wall.
“Earlier today,” Egor says, standing up and walking toward me, “she dropped by, but you sent her away so you could rest.”
I vaguely remember her sounding angry, but her exact wording remains jumbled in my head.
“What happened exactly?” I stammer and nearly collapse on the couch.
Egor doesn’t want to answer me. My assistant refrains from sharing bad news. Clearly, Junie and I didn’t have a positive encounter.
“Did she come up here?” I ask when he says nothing.
“Of course not.”
“Did she and I speak on the phone?”
“Yes.”
“But I remember seeing her. Did I go down to her?”
“No, you were too exhausted. She stood in front of the camera downstairs while you spoke on the phone.”
I look into his dark eyes and sense the details he leaves out. “She was angry.”
“The P.I. called a few minutes before her arrival to explain how she’d confronted him at the Farmer’s Market.”
“I already knew she’d noticed him. Why did she come here?”
“To ask about the investigator.”
“She wanted to come upstairs,” I mumble, putting together fragments of the earlier conversation.
“Yes.”
“Did I say I’d call her later?”
Egor hands me a glass of water. “She probably wouldn’t want you to.”
“Did she end things? Is that what you’re tiptoeing around, Egor?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Well, I’ll fix this problem like I fixed the one last time.”
“She seemed rather adamant.”
“No doubt. Junie wants what she wants until I change her mind about what she wants. I did it before, and I’ll do it again.”
Egor takes the glass back and reaches out to help steady me. I push away his hand and walk to my room where I find shoes.
“You’re not in any condition to go out,” Egor says once I’m dressed and walking toward the door. “A storm is coming.”
“I’ll take a driver, but I need to see her before she gets any dumb ideas ingrained in her pretty head.”
Egor steps in front of the door to stop me. I can barely keep my eyes open, but I’m aware enough to realize my assistant is coddling me.
“Move or I’ll replace your position, Egor,” I demand without a hint of bullshit. “Anyone can be replaced.”
“If that’s true, why are you putting yourself at risk over this woman?”
“Fine. Anyone besides Junie can be replaced.”
I’ve hurt Egor’s feelings, but I refuse to be treated like his child rather than the man who signs his checks. Besides, he’s got an idea about Junie acting as a bad influence that needs to be nipped in the bud before he causes my love life more trouble than I do on my own.
‧:❉:‧ ♂ ♀ ‧:❉:‧
❁ Junie ❁
I’d rather puke than cry. Tears leave my eyes stinging and my head aching. Puking is usually a one and done situation, but crying can go on for a long time—day after day, week after week, or even for years like with my mom.
I don’t cry for more than ten minutes, but my head feels like it weighs a thousand pounds by the time I finish. Cuddled with my pillow on the couch, I stare at the T
V and wonder how I got so hung up on a guy who’d jerked me around so thoroughly in such a short amount of time.
Though I ought to be relieved to say good riddance to Asher, I mostly wish I was capable of dealing with his mood swings. Instead, I can’t even deal with my mother’s. The second she heard thunder and began checking all the windows, I knew she didn’t want me around, and I wasn’t interested in watching her obsessive routines. I’d seen enough of them over the years, and a part of me still needs my mother to be strong even if I know she can’t.
In the exact right circumstances, Pollyanna Voss can play the confident mother. Nonetheless, as with today, those perfect conditions never last for very long.
Now alone in my apartment, I listen to the storm outside and think about the mountains. I haven’t gone hiking in years. Aren’t I too young to already be set in my ways? I live surrounded by natural beauty, but I spend most of my time in front of the TV. Just like I did as a kid on the weekends with my father. If couch potato-ism was a disease, it’d be hereditary and my family strongly afflicted.
My bleary eyes invite dozing, and I’m half asleep when I hear someone ringing at the outside door. Mallory is working a shift at a Minute Clinic this evening to make cash for our next trip. She’s like a machine when it comes to saving money while my machine skills involve lounging on the couch.
I drag my ass to the door, despite how much I want to ignore the bell. Who could even be visiting in this weather? Shuffling out of my apartment, I flinch at the snap of thunder outside. Rain pours down outside, masking whoever is at the outer door. Despite the misty gloom, I know the hunched over figure is Asher.
“What are you doing here?” I ask, standing away from the door to avoid getting wet. “I told you we were over.”
“Is that what you said?” he mumbles, and I struggle to hear him over the storm. “The entire thing is a blur in my mind. I’d taken sleeping pills before you arrived and I don’t exactly recall our conversation.”
“Well, that was the gist of it. You should go home.”
“Won’t you let me into the inner porch so I can get out of the rain?”
“Nope,” I say, crossing my arms protectively around my body. “That’s how it starts. You get in one door and then the next, and pretty soon I’ve agreed to let you jerk me around again.”
“It’s raining pretty hard out here.”
“Then you better hurry to your car and speed away to your palace in the sky, Ferrer.”
Asher rests his forehead against the metal door and exhales loudly enough to be heard over the storm.
“Ending things isn’t what I want, but I don’t know how to be with you. I’ve never had a relationship before where I spent more than a few hours with the woman. Even when I traveled to Japan with a girlfriend, we sat in different aisles.” Asher wipes his soaking black hair from his eyes and exhales loudly again. “The problem between us isn’t you. It’s all me, and I want to be the man you need, but I can’t. All I can do is change a little around the edges and hope it’s enough to make you happy.”
“Well, that’s all good and well, but you should leave.”
I say the words, but they lack conviction. Asher looks pitiful. His soaked hair hangs over his eyes, and he resembles a half-drowned puppy rather than a vexing bastard who wouldn’t let me step a toe in his home.
“I can’t leave. I told my driver to go.”
“Why would you go and do that?” I grumble and step closer. “Were you so certain you could sweet-talk your way into my place when I wasn’t able to do the same at yours?”
“I don’t remember your visit, but I know I can’t function without you, and I can’t function with you, and I’m here, and I can’t leave.”
“Call a taxi.”
“Taxis are filthy, so no.”
I stand an inch from him with only the door separating us. “You look tired. Oh, and wet.”
Asher gives me a little exhausted smile, and I relent under the pressure of having him here, saying the right things about wanting me, and looking sexy as hell wet. Opening the door for him, I’m not certain where we go from this moment on, but my throbbing headache and red eyes remind me how I wasn’t ready for things to end anyway.
CH 16
❁ Asher ❁
My soaked clothes weigh a ton by the time Junie opens the door, and I step into the inner walkway. She locks the door behind us and leads me to her apartment. Even drenched with the chilly rain, I can barely keep my eyes open. I stumble upon entering her apartment. Junie’s hands are on me, and I see her face only inches from mine. I think I try to kiss her, but I don’t know if my lips find hers. The world swims in my medicated head until everything goes black.
Sometime later, I open my eyes to find myself surrounded by blood red. My hand reaches out to touch the blurred color, finding the hard surface of a wall. I pull back my hand and force my body to roll onto my back. I lift my head enough to see I’m alone in Junie’s bedroom.
Sitting up is out of the question, and I can’t even form a word. I roll onto my side and inhale Junie’s familiar floral scent. Relaxing immediately, I close my eyes and allow sleep to take me.
When my eyes open later, daylight is gone, and I can no longer see the red walls. I turn enough to look into the adjoining room where a TV flickers. Junie is nowhere to be found, but I spot a cat in the corner of the bedroom. His eyes reflect light from the TV, giving him a menacing appearance.
Junie said his name was Couch Potato because she couldn’t come up with something better. I stare at him until my eyes won’t remain open any longer. Sleep grabs me easily in this place, surrounded by Junie’s presence. I wonder if she’s alone in the living room. I think to call out to her or get up and find water to drink. My throat is so dry, but I don’t speak or crawl out of bed. Instead, I sleep like I haven’t slept in weeks.
Later when I wake, I immediately force my body into a sitting position. Junie is nearby, and I’m not sure how I ended up in her bed or even what I’m wearing. My fingers find unfamiliar fabric, and I wonder if she has men’s clothes lying around her place. Is this an old boyfriend’s shirt I’m wearing? I do know I’m naked underneath; meaning my first time nude around Junie was as a result of my overuse of sleeping meds.
“Junie?” I call out in a rough voice.
The cat jumps down from the dresser and hurries out of the room. As he flees, Junie stumbles over him and toward me. I watch her shadow fumble in the corner before a small lamp illuminates the red room.
“Here’s Gatorade,” she says, opening a bottle for me as she sits on the edge of the bed.
Taking the drink, I study her drowsy face. “Were you sleeping?”
“Yes. I’d have crawled in next to you, but this is a queen bed, and you wouldn’t get out of the middle.”
“Why didn’t you wake me?”
“I tried,” she says full of exasperation. “I shook the bed. Sounded my alarm. Insulted your manhood. Nothing worked. You just babbled something about incorrect algorithms and stayed asleep.”
“Sorry,” I mumble, downing the fruit punch drink. “What am I wearing?”
Junie hears something in my voice and lifts an eyebrow. I don’t know what she thinks I’m implying, but a long moment passes before she stands and walks out of the room. Returning a minute later, she kicks off her slippers and sits back on the bed.
“It’s four in the morning, so I want to sleep. If you move over, I’ll join you. The couch is no good for overnight sleep. It’s more of a napping spot.”
I hand her the empty bottle and notice the living room is dark now except for a soft blue light.
“You stripped me.”
A grumpy Junie only shrugs before turning off the corner light. “You were sopping wet, and I couldn’t have you soak my bed. It wasn’t easy getting those clothes off when you were barely conscious,” she says, climbing in next to me and pulling back the covers. “I washed your things, so you’ll have something to wear in the morning.”
“What am I wearing now?” I ask again.
“My boyfriend’s old shirt.”
“Yeah?” I mutter, annoyed by her obvious lie.
“Sure. Why not?”
I rest my head on the pillow and wish I could see her in the dark. “Are you angry about what happened or is this how you are in the middle of the night?”
“Both,” she says, and I feel her fingers against my arm. “You’re wearing one of my mom’s old nightgowns. She used to be really chunky, and I still wear her giant stuff when I’m on my period. I figured nothing else I had would fit you. Oh, and the nightgown is covered in pink pandas. You’re adorable.”
Hearing humor in her voice, I relax under the warm blankets. This isn’t how I imagined spending my first night in bed with Junie Voss, but there’s something comfortable about feeling defenseless with her. No woman has ever seen me so vulnerable, mainly because no woman has ever pushed me to the brink of my control.
‧:❉:‧ ♂ ♀ ‧:❉:‧
❁ Junie ❁
Stripping Asher Ferrer naked will go down as one of the top highlights of my life. He is more toned than I expect, though I don’t have the chance to examine his every muscular curve. I barely get him to the bedroom before he loses his balance. Once his clothes come off, Ash is ready to topple into bed. I rush to the bathroom to grab two towels and return to find him hunched forward and ready to hit the floor.
Unaccustomed to wrestling with a full-grown man, I’m probably rougher than I need to be. Drying him off quickly, I take extra time with his thick hair. Asher keeps distracting me by nuzzling his face against my chest or trying to kiss me. He babbles about how the rain washed away his crippling fears, and he’s a free man now. I ignore his words and avoid his frisky fingers on my butt. Later, I’ll giggle at the way he felt me up. For now, I need to dry him off before he collapses on my bed.
“You make me smile,” he says after I slide Mom’s old nightgown over his head.
“You make me smile too. Do you need something before you sleep?”
“Kiss me like you mean it, Junie.”
Cupping his face, I lean down and give him a quick kiss. “I’m not taking advantage of you in your time of need.”
