by C. J. Duggan
Happy freakin’ birthday, Lexie.
Chapter Twenty
One thing that I did get great pleasure from was seeing the look on Amanda’s face when Mum and Dad talked about my impressive new apartment and job slinging drinks at the Wipe Out Bar. I reckon I could have cracked an egg and cooked it on her forehead she was so mad. I also knew she was thinking I was full of shit, which I kind of was in some ways.
‘The Wipe Out Bar? Amanda, isn’t that the place you submitted your résumé to?’ Aunty Karen’s brow crinkled in wonder as she spooned out some sweet and sour pork onto her plate and returned it to the Lazy Susan.
My eyes shifted to Amanda, who had gone a deeper shade of purple as she glowered at her mother. Amanda had applied for a job at the Wipe Out Bar?
Well, this is awkward.
‘I wouldn’t want to work in that dive anyway. Lucy said she quit because Dean was a psycho.’
Mum’s and Dad’s heads snapped up in unison from their combination chow meins. I inwardly prayed for restraint, as I really wanted to reach over the table and smash Amanda’s face into her special fried rice.
‘Dean? Why, he seems lovely. Isn’t he lovely, Lexie?’ Mum turned to me, her eyes pleading. She didn’t want her only daughter to be working for a psycho. But lovely and Dean were not two words that ever went together in the same sentence.
I twisted the fork in my noodles. ‘He has been very good to me,’ I admitted truthfully.
Amanda snorted. ‘I bet he has.’
My instant response was to kick her in the shin, resulting in an oomph and a scowl.
The last thing I needed was for my parents to be fed innuendos about my new boss. Oh God, the more I thought about the fact that Dean Saville was going to be my manager, with the authority to boss me around, the more it made me want to vomit. In fact, the thought of returning to the Wipe Out Bar tonight with my parents in tow made me feel ill. The morning couldn’t come soon enough. Mum, Dad: as much as I’ve loved seeing you, it’s definitely time to go.
•
It was late by the time we got to the Wipe Out Bar. The sign was still aglow out front but luckily it didn’t have the same crazy dance party vibe or Dean throwing out some drunken creep; instead, Cassie was shutting down the bar, something that I would no doubt be learning how to do in time. My stomach did a little backflip just thinking about what my new existence was going to be like working here. If I just blocked out the minor detail of Dean being my boss, the thought had me … excited.
Mum yawned. ‘What a day,’ she said, as we took the stairs all the way up to the landing, pausing before Dean’s office door leading to my parents’ makeshift hotel room. Mum turned and cupped my cheeks. ‘Happy Birthday, baby, did you enjoy dinner?’
‘Yeah, I did.’
‘Chinese, your favourite,’ said Dad.
I didn’t have the heart to tell him my favourite food was Mexican.
‘We’ll see you in the morning.’ Mum kissed me on the head.
‘Night,’ I said, hugging and kissing them both. Feeling the warmth of their arms around me made me feel guilty for wishing them away. I thought now that maybe it would have been nice to have them stay around for a few days. Of course, that thought quickly slipped away when I found myself tiptoeing past a particular door, a door to what would eventually be my room – the dusty, dank, small room where Dean was forced to sleep tonight, something he’d made me painfully aware of earlier in the evening when he’d taken the key to his apartment off his key chain and slammed it on the bar for me as I waited for my parents to come down for dinner. Creeping past the door, the last thing I wanted to do was wake the beast.
I inserted the key into the lock, turning it slowly until I heard the magical click then I pushed inside. The first thing that hit me was a cool breeze from the opened doors. Dean never seemed to have them closed. He obviously didn’t worry about people climbing up the guttering and getting into his apartment. Although thinking about it, the rusty, dodgy guttering would not hold a fully grown human.
Even though the sun had set hours ago, a glow still penetrated through the open balcony doors – orange and red lights from street lamps and the amusement park further in the distance. The dark stretch of the ocean was the perfect backdrop to the flashing, vibrant theme park. Curved wrought iron lamps lit the way to the domed old-fashioned building that served as a gateway into the park, but what stood out most was the light pink hues of the Ferris wheel, shining bright and beautiful. I could have stood there and soaked up the view all night, and watched the people down below. Even this late the area still buzzed with excitement, fuelled, no doubt, by alcohol. The distant boom of music from another local establishment pounded in the night and carried on the breeze along with the traffic and the shouted hollers of people in search of a good time. I smiled, thinking of how Dean would sit up here every night, staring down from the shadows as he people-watched and took in his surrounds, watching on as the townspeople went along their merry way around his kingdom. The vantage point would have been right up his alley, but unlike the people who skirted around like ants below, my eyes kept lifting to stare at the Ferris wheel, slowly turning and flashing. It was hypnotic.
‘It’s better in the night, don’t you think?’
I jumped, yelping at the unexpectedness of Dean’s voice behind me. I spun around, seeing the unmistakeable silhouette of him leaning casually in the balcony’s doorframe.
‘Bloody hell, Dean, don’t do that!’ I yelled, clutching my heart.
He chuckled from the dark, probably something that should sound unnerving but all it wanted to make me do was punch him in the face. He moved closer to stand beside me.
‘What are you doing here?’ I asked.
Dean did a double-take. ‘I live here.’
‘I– I thought you were sleeping in the other room.’
Dean breathed out a laugh. ‘I’m not sleeping in there,’ he said, peeling himself away from the balcony and heading back inside.
I followed him, hoping maybe he was going to just grab some PJs or something and head back to his room, or my room, while I slept in his room.
‘What’s wrong with that room? I’ll be sleeping in it.’ I had this sudden fear that maybe there was a family of rodents living in there.
Dean opened the fridge, grabbed a bottle of water and twisted off the lid. He took a big gulp, smacking his lips together in appreciation. ‘So, did the birthday girl make a wish before she blew out all her candles?’
I folded my arms. ‘There was no cake.’
Dean paused before sipping. ‘What? Eighteen and no cake?’
I shrugged. ‘I guess amid all the madness, they kind of forgot.’
‘That’s bullshit.’
I smiled. ‘I didn’t take you for a traditionalist.’
‘Some things are sacred,’ he said, before tossing the empty bottle into the bin. ‘Night, Lexie,’ Dean announced, brushing past me with a knowing smirk and heading towards the bathroom.
‘Wait, where are you going?’ I asked a bit too quickly.
Dean turned with interest. ‘To brush my teeth. Oral hygiene is very important, Lexie,’ he said, before stepping into the bathroom and closing the door behind him. I heard the tap going and I inhaled a steadying breath. Of course he would be brushing his teeth – this is where his toothbrush is. He would simply get ready for bed and then head back to the bed he was meant to be sleeping in. We hadn’t come this far to take the chance of Dean being spotted coming from my supposed apartment at some ungodly hour. I really didn’t need my parents thinking I was screwing Dean Saville.
The running water in the sink stopped, which had me stepping quickly into motion. I ran to the bed, casually sitting on the edge of it as a means to lamely stake my claim as I worked on taking off my shoes one at a time and setting them aside before pulling out my ponytail and unravelling it to flow long over my shoulders. The relief of my fingers mass aging along my scalp felt like heaven and I was suddenly aware of how bone
tired I was. Never could I have believed it would come to this, me sitting on the edge of Dean Saville’s bed.
I inadvertently gasped as I heard the bathroom door open.
Chapter Twenty-One
Instead of bidding me goodnight and heading out the front door without so much as a backward glance, he headed directly towards the bed, a wry smile on his lips. He was delighting in making me feel uncomfortable, and, oh, how I squirmed as he came to stand at the end of the bed, casually undoing his belt buckle and shucking off his shoes.
‘W– what are you doing?’ I asked, my eyes wide.
Dean looked down at me as if English wasn’t his first language. ‘What does it look like I’m doing?’ he replied, peeling his t-shirt from back to front over his head in the way that boys do. And, oh my God, the muted lighting in the apartment lit him up perfectly, the toned indentations along his stomach that I kind of wanted to run my fingers along, the hypnotic twists of the black ink along his smooth skin. He wasn’t deeply tanned like your typical Paradise local, as he spent more time indoors peering at monitors, but there was something very raw about Dean, something almost animalistic about the way he held himself, in the way he moved around a space. He stalked around his bar like a jungle cat. He was different, exotic almost. I watched the rise and fall of his bare chest, his stone-like expression staring down at me as he casually twisted the shirt in his hands and threw it aside to hit the back of a chair. Looking up at him, there was one thing that came to mind as I stared at his body in the half light. Dean was sexy, whether I liked it or not. I had to admit, Dean Saville was something worth looking at.
I swallowed. I’d been staring for too long. Shit. ‘What, here?’ I asked, a bit panicked, my eyes shifting to the bed I sat on.
Dean cocked his brow. ‘Well, it is my bed,’ he said, his hand confidently reaching for his belt.
‘Okay, okay.’ I held up my hand, turning my head. ‘You win. I’ll go sleep in the other room.’ I moved to stand, keeping my eyes averted as I went to walk towards the door, only to be stopped as Dean’s hand snaked around my upper arm.
‘Whoa, hold on a sec,’ he said.
My attention moved from where he held my arm, up onto his face. He was looking at me intently, as if he wanted to say something, but then he finally blinked. ‘Take the bed, I’ll sleep on the couch,’ he said, slowly lowering his hand from me, a hand that seemed forever to be encircled around my upper arm, pushing and pulling me in all directions. I was sure the heat of it was permanently branded on my skin.
‘But what if my parents –’
‘We lock the door,’ he said matter-of-factly, as if it were simple, and I guess it was really.
‘So you really don’t want to sleep in that room?’
Dean shook his head. ‘I don’t much fancy confined spaces.’
‘Is that why you keep your balcony doors open?’ It was a question that simply slipped out, and yet I was still very much interested in the answer.
‘Maybe it is,’ he said, breaking away and heading towards the plush leather couch. ‘Good night, Lexie.’ He said it with no enthusiasm. He didn’t even look at me as he peeled a throw rug off the back of the couch and punched a scatter cushion into the shape of a pillow.
‘Night,’ I said, turning away as I heard him peel the denim off one leg at a time. I moved to rummage through my bag, distracting myself from thinking too much about Dean being merely metres away and only partially clothed. Grabbing my toiletries bag and nightie, I glanced over, seeing only a lumpy shadow on the couch. I couldn’t see him but no doubt he could see me. I clutched my possessions to my chest and quietly padded my way towards the bathroom, closing the door and snipping the lock behind me. Only then could I give myself permission to let my shoulders sag in relief as I set my back against the door, thinking how incredibly surreal this moment was. If anyone had told me that upon coming back to Paradise City I was going to be selling my soul to the devil and be sleeping in his bed, I wouldn’t have believed it – no way, no how.
I brushed my teeth, cleansed, toned and moisturised my face, entwined my hair into a topknot bun and nodded at myself in the mirror with a sense of finality. Time for bed.
Dean’s bed.
In Dean’s apartment.
With Dean.
I shook the thoughts from my head. There was no need to obsess about the details.
I opened the bathroom door and the light spilt into the room. I quickly clicked the switch off, realising that the only light now in the room was that of a bedside lamp. My eyes blinked, adjusting to the change and quickly trying to fathom what else had changed, and then it was obvious to me. The doors to the balcony had been closed and the blinds drawn, plunging the room into darkness.
Could he see me lingering uncertainly near the door?
I used the lamp light like a beacon. Making a beeline for it, I quickly turned it off, plunging the room into such complete blackness that spots in my vision danced. It was so dark, thick and suffocating, I could feel my heart racing as I scrambled to peel back the covers and lay under the sheets.
I was in Dean Saville’s bed, the soft black sheets that smelt like crisp linen, which kind of disappointed me because I expected them to smell like his aftershave.
I tried not to think how weird this was, that lying in the dark just over there was Dean. I would simply just let sleep claim me … but it didn’t. Instead, what felt like hours passed with me tossing and turning, sighing, punching the pillow, and then the worst thing happened: my mind started to wander, and the questions started to build up and before I knew it I rolled onto my side staring into the blackness, towards the direction of Dean’s couch. Only the sounds of the city, sirens and traffic still audible through the thick glass could be heard but apart from that I heard no snoring, no shifting from Dean, just darkness and silence.
‘Dean?’
‘Mmm,’ came the sleepy reply.
‘Why did you give me a job?’
The leather couch creaked as he shifted. ‘Whaaat?’ he groaned, as if it was an overly complicated question.
I hitched myself onto my elbow. ‘Why did you change your mind?’
Dean sighed, weary. ‘Do not ask me questions.’
‘But I want to know.’
‘If I tell you will you go to sleep?’
‘Yes.’
Maybe.
More silence. It went on for so long I thought he wouldn’t answer, and then he spoke. ‘I guess my black heart has a gooey centre after all.’
I waited for him to continue but he didn’t. ‘Is that it?’
‘Yes, now go to sleep.’
Never a simple answer, I thought, as I spun around, punching my pillow in frustration and staring off into the opposite side of blackness.
‘Lexie?’
I spun around expectantly, thinking maybe he had decided to elaborate. ‘Yes?’
‘No funny business, okay? I’m feeling rather vulnerable.’
I stifled a giggle, grabbing my pillow and turfing it towards him, having no real way of knowing if it was even anywhere near close to hitting him. The only indication I’d hit my target was the chuckle that pierced through the black. ‘Night, Lexie.’
‘Good. Night,’ I said, rolling onto my side and tucking myself into the sheets. I closed my eyes with a smile creasing my lips.
‘Lexie?’
‘What?’
‘Happy Birthday.’
Chapter Twenty-Two
It was still dark out when I felt the warmth against me, the feel of lips softly pressed against my shoulder as I stirred from my sleep. I turned to see Dean’s face hovering above mine, his eyes full of promise, his smile curved knowingly.
‘I can’t sleep,’ he whispered against the lobe of my ear, nipping playfully, my fuzzy thoughts stirring to life as other parts of my body did the same.
Breathing was hard, thinking was hard, and oh God … he was hard! I felt him push against me as he cupped my chin, turning my head to the side so that
his lips were close to mine.
‘What are you going to do?’ I breathed out, my heart drumming fiercely as excitement coursed through my body, barely believing this was happening.
Dean smiled slow and wicked as his eyes traced along the lines of my face.
‘First, I’m going to start from here.’ He popped the top button of my nightie, followed by a second and a third. ‘It’s going to be slow,’ his hand slid down my exposed stomach before gripping the elastic edge of my panties, ‘and then hard,’ he whispered against my now gasping mouth. I felt his fingers delve beyond the delicate pink bow of my undies and push inside me, eliciting a deep groan from me. Dean smiled against my lips. ‘And very, very … thorough.’
•
BANG-BANG-BANG!
My body jolted awake at the foreign sound, the sound of insistent knocking at the apartment door.
‘Lexie, wake up!’ Mum’s voice yelled through the door. ‘Oh, Rick, it’s locked, why would she lock it?’ Mum’s voice rang out like a shrill nightmare as her and Dad argued in the hall while rattling the door handle in a bid to get in.
‘Lexie, open up!’
Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit.
I sat up in bed, still hot and flustered from my mortifying dream. That’s right – a dream. It was just a dream, I reasoned with myself, fighting desperately to get my bearings. Looking around, just to be sure, there was definitely no Dean in my bed; I looked down to see the buttons of my nightie all perfectly aligned and together. I breathed a calming breath.
