She laughs, her eyes dipping below my waist. “Really? Looks like you’re ready for round two.”
I groan. “Something tells me that with you I’m going to be hard until I die.”
She laughs, her body shaking against me. She’s always beautiful, but when she laughs it’s like it turns a light on inside her and she’s radiant.
“Food first,” I tell her. Knowing Nova, she probably hasn’t eaten properly in the last two weeks. The girl can’t cook. I quickly learned that there would be no sharing of the food responsibilities between us. She made spaghetti one of the first nights after she moved in and it was like eating rubber. After that, I took over all the cooking duties. I don’t mind. Cooking is one of the few things I’m good at and enjoy.
I kiss her one last time, because I can’t help myself, and disentangle from her limbs.
I grab my sweatpants off the floor and pull them on sans underwear. I glance behind me and find Nova watching me. I wink and she blushes all the way from her chest to her cheeks.
I step down from the raised platform my bed rests on and head into the kitchen.
Half-cooked eggs sit congealed in the skillet.
I throw them away.
“Do you want any bacon?” I call to her. I look over and find her dressing. What a shame. I feel like there should be a rule where Nova’s naked all the time. That’d be fantastic … but I’d also never get anything done.
“Yeah,” she says back, pulling her shirt over her head. “Black and crispy like my soul.”
I laugh as I pull the bacon out of the refrigerator. “In other words, you want me to ruin it.”
She heads over to me and hops up on the stainless-steel island. “We agree on most things, but the way we like our bacon is where we diverge. I can’t eat it raw like you.”
“Yeah, but you like it practically charred and burned.”
She laughs, her legs swinging back and forth. “It’s delicious like that. You’re missing out.”
I pretend to gag. While the bacon is frying, I pour us each a cup of coffee. She takes hers and uses the cup to hide her smile.
We’ve had breakfast together every morning since she moved in, except the last two weeks.
It was hell not talking to her, but I didn’t know what else I could say to change her mind, and I decided giving her space was probably for the best.
Granted, space probably turned me into an even bigger idiot, which is why I brought that girl back here last night.
I wanted to make Nova jealous. I wanted her blood to boil and for her to go off. I wanted any reaction, even a bad one, because after so much silence I couldn’t take it any longer. But the moment that chick kissed me—fuck, I don’t even remember her name—I knew I couldn’t go through with it. I wasn’t planning to anyway. I just wanted to make Nova jealous, but the chick didn’t know that and she thought she was there to get laid. I’m surprised she didn’t slap me when I kicked her out.
“Confession—” I’m full of them this morning, apparently “—I’ve never wanted to make anyone jealous before. Not like I wanted to make you jealous last night.”
She sips her coffee and sets the cup on the counter by her side. I step into the space between her legs.
“Confession, I like that you wanted to make me jealous even if I wanted to pull that girl’s hair last night. It took all my willpower to stay in my room.”
I can’t help it, I laugh—a laugh that comes deep from my stomach. When I sober, I say, “Picturing you yanking on a girl’s hair is the funniest thing ever.”
She shrugs. “That’s what I wanted to do. She was probably some blond bimbo with fake extensions. Wasn’t she?”
My lips quirk. “Maybe.”
“So, you like blonds, huh?”
I shake my head. “I like you.”
Surprise fills her eyes, like even after I fucked her senseless and confessed I haven’t had sex since she moved in, she can’t wrap her head around the fact that I like her. That I want her.
Do I love Nova? I don’t fucking know. I’ve never been in love before and my parents’ relationship was rocky at the best of times so it’s not like I have that to base something off of. All I know is this girl consumes me and makes me feel alive in a way I haven’t in a long time.
Something begins to smoke, and I curse. “Fucking bacon.” I totally forgot it was cooking.
I quickly grab the skillet and pull it off the stove.
Nova giggles and eyes the burnt pieces. “It’s perfect.”
I shake my head, smiling. “Yeah, I guess it is.”
I dump the ruined bacon onto a plate—well, ruined by my opinion—and slide it across to Nova. I start some more for myself.
While it’s cooking, I start on the scrambled eggs.
When the eggs are done, I slide some onto Nova’s plate and the rest onto mine. I add my bacon and then carry our plates over to the small table. I know it’s probably impractical to have both the island with barstools and a table, but I prefer the table.
Nova grabs our coffee cups and follows me over.
She sits across from me with a small smile gracing her lips like she finds this whole thing entirely amusing.
We’ve sat across from each other eating breakfast, lunch, or dinner numerous times, but suddenly it feels different.
Different isn’t bad, though. I think different is actually pretty good.
We eat in silence, lost in our thoughts. Lyrics flit through my mind, and I itch to grab my notebook and write.
Music is a huge part of my life, but I don’t have time for it like I used to. I naively thought I’d be discovered and become the next big thing, but that thought process has only led to heaps of disappointment. I don’t know what I’ll do with my music degree. Maybe I’ll become a teacher or maybe I’ll tend bars for the rest of my life. Either option pisses off my father, because his dream was for me to get into politics like him. Over the years, I’ve asked him about my dreams so many times that the words have become meaningless.
“I’m really hating the fact that I have to work today,” Nova says, breaking into my thoughts.
I grin. “Because you want to stay here with me all day, right?”
She looks away and then back with a small nod. “Yeah.”
“There will be time for that later,” I tell her, a promising tone to my voice.
She bites her lip, wiggling in her seat, and I want nothing more than to fuck her on the table. I’m trying to be responsible, though. Take it slow. Well, slow for me.
“Are you working tonight?” she asks. What she’s really asking is, Are you going to be home late?
I shake my head. “This is my off weekend, but I’m going by in the evening to play.” I nod at my guitar even though she’ll know what I mean anyway.
“What time?”
“Seven,” I answer, picking up a piece of bacon.
“I get off at six. Do you mind if I go with you?”
“Of course not.” She nods, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. “The green is interesting,” I tell her.
She wrinkles her nose. “Does that mean you hate it?”
“No, I like it,” I assure her. “I just wasn’t expecting it. What color are you going to do next?”
She shrugs. “I haven’t decided yet.”
“You should do rainbow.”
She laughs and finishes her eggs. “I haven’t done that one yet.”
“What color has been your favorite?” I ask her.
“Passion purple,” she responds, and I chuckle. We always have a laugh at the ridiculously colored names. Some are downright stupid. “What’s your favorite?”
“The blue … what was the name for that one?”
“Well, I called it Smurf blue but the bottle said Razzleberry.”
“What’s this one called?”
She plucks at a piece of her green colored hair. “Enchanted Forest.”
“I think we could come up with better names,” I comment, finishin
g my coffee.
“Probably. What would you call this one?” She points at her head.
I press my lips together, thinking. “Green Goblin.”
She snorts. “Good one. Although, that’s probably copyrighted.”
“Fuck, well, I tried.”
She smiles, and it makes me ridiculously happy to see her smile. There aren’t a lot of people in the world that I care about their happiness, but she’s probably number one. She doesn’t smile or laugh enough. Sometimes a darkness creeps into her eyes, and I’ll do anything to make it go away.
She finishes her breakfast and stands with her dirty dishes. “I’m going to go shower,” she says.
Nova. Shower. Naked. Wet.
I’m so fucked.
“Mhmm, yeah,” I mumble, trying to cover up the fact that an intense fantasy is playing out in my mind.
She heads into her room and grabs some clothes before she goes into the bathroom.
I force myself to finish my food and coffee, although I can taste neither at this point.
When I finish, I clean my plate and cup. My eyes stray over to my messy bed and I itch to bust into the bathroom, grab Nova, and have that second round.
A knock on the door disrupts my thoughts.
“What the fuck?” I mumble to myself. Nobody ever comes here unless it’s food delivery, and we rarely do that—plus, we also just ate breakfast.
I cross the few feet to the door and look through the peephole.
Dammit.
“What are you doing here?” I ask as I open the door.
“Well, hello to you too, Jacen,” Thea slurs, coming inside.
“Sorry,” I mumble. “Hello.”
“That’s better.” She smiles.
“Why are you here?” I ask. “You never come over.”
She heads straight for the black leather couch and sits down, making herself at home. “As you know, Halloween is in a few weeks.”
“Four,” I answer. “It’s in four weeks. That’s a month, Thea.”
She waves away my words. “We’re having a Halloween party.”
“We’re?”
“Me and Xander—and by extension Rae and Cade since it’s also their house. And I guess my mom’s now too,” she rambles. “Although she’ll probably hang out in her room the whole time so—”
“Get to the point,” I plead.
Thea inhales a lungful of air. “Halloween is my favorite holiday, thus making this party very important to me.”
“Did you just use the word thus in a sentence?”
“Yes, yes, I did,” she says. “Anyway, it’s very important that you dress up—”
“Thea—”
“This is important to me,” she interrupts. “I do not want you bowing out or half-assing it. Didn’t you ever want to be a superhero growing up?”
“No,” I answer honestly. “I always wanted to be the villain.”
“Perfect. Be the Joker then. Nova can be Harley Quinn.”
“Everyone is going to be the Joker and Harley Quinn.”
She sighs. “Then come up with something on your own, but make it good.”
“What are you and Xander going as?” I ask, thinking that might give me some idea for my own costume.
“No idea yet. It has to be amazing, though.” She gets a faraway look in her eyes, no doubt imagining all the things she could be. “I want to make this a yearly tradition.” I groan. “Don’t be so whiny. It’s going to be fun. You’ll see.” She rummages in her purse for a piece of gum and pops it in her mouth. “Is Nova here?”
“In the shower,” I answer.
“Oh, well tell her I said hi.”
She stands and her eyes drift over the messy bed and back to me.
“I haven’t made my bed yet,” I say in response to her look.
She looks me up and down and I realize how little clothes I’m wearing and that it’s blatantly obvious I’m not wearing underwear.
“Mhmm, sure,” she responds.
I know she doesn’t believe but I’m thankful she doesn’t delve further.
I walk her to the front door. “Bye,” she calls.
“Bye, Thea.”
I close the door behind her and breathe a sigh of relief. I think I’ve been holding that breath ever since she walked in.
A minute later the bathroom door opens and Nova pokes her head out, her body wrapped in a towel. “Was someone here?”
I scratch the back of my head. “Thea stopped by. Apparently, she’s having a Halloween party and we have to go.”
“Sounds fun,” she says sarcastically before easing the door closed.
I grab my guitar and notebook and sit down on the couch, the lyrics from earlier resurfacing. I haven’t felt like writing or playing since the trip to Florida, so the sudden urge feels nice. Any time I have a dry spell, I have the irrational fear that I’m never going to write a song again.
Nova comes out of the bathroom dressed in a pair of black skinny jeans with tears in the knees and a loose gray top over a lacy bra thing.
I close my eyes, trying to center myself and maintain control.
She makes it impossible to keep my cool.
“I’m going to work on homework,” she says, and disappears into her room.
It’s almost as if she too senses that we need space right now. If I’m too close to her then we might combust again and there’s no chance I’d let her leave until we’ve fucked on every available surface.
There will be plenty of time for that tomorrow when neither of us have to work.
I grin, thinking of all the things I want to do to her tonight and tomorrow.
It’s going to be fun.
Nova
I organize the stack of records while my mind is on repeat of this morning’s actions.
I had sex with Jace.
I’m in a state of disbelief that it actually happened. A part of me is convinced that it was a very vivid dream.
Twenty-four hours ago, I was still mad and ignoring him, and now?
Now I don’t know how I feel.
The anger is gone, but in its place is lust and confusion. I’m not naïve enough to believe that because we had sex it means we’re going to ride off into the sunset and everything is going to be smooth sailing. I know that, realistically, it’s only going to get more complicated. I can’t bring myself to care about that, though. I’m too happy, and I refuse to dampen my good mood by dwelling on it. I figure we’ll take it day by day and see where it goes from there. Does that make us friends with benefits? I don’t know. Maybe. But I’d rather not put a label on it.
“You’ve been going through that stack for thirty minutes. Is everything okay?” my boss, Brenda, asks as she breezes into the main room from the back.
Brenda is an older lady, in her sixties, with wild curly gray hair and kind brown eyes. She’s always dressed in a long skirt and breezy top with boots. A row of bracelets clang on every wrist, jingling every time she moves. She and her husband, Paul, own the record store. He’s currently giving music lessons in the building they own next door.
“I’m sorry. Just lost in thought,” I explain.
She gives me a perplexed look. “You’re not normally spacey. Is something happening?”
I shake my head. “Strange morning.”
She assesses me and then nods. “After you finish with that I need your help in the back. I’m old and not strong enough to lift these heavy boxes onto the shelves.”
I laugh. “You’re not old, Brenda.”
She snorts. “You won’t be saying that when you’re my age.”
She breezes away, leaving a waft of flowery smelling perfume in her wake.
I finish organizing and head in the back to help her. It doesn’t take me long to stack the boxes on shelves and then I’m back out front.
A few customers come in, but it’s a relatively quiet day, which turns out to be a good thing since I’m having trouble functioning.
The place is small so there
isn’t much to do except tend to customers and keep it tidy.
Sometimes teenagers from the local high school a few blocks over come over after school on the week days, and while some of them are nice, most of them are little assholes and only like to wreak havoc.
“Why don’t you go on home?” Brenda suggests. “It’s dead today and Paul and I want to close early.”
“Are you sure? I’m happy to stay.”
“Positive.” She smiles, patting me on the arm.
I head to the back and grab my bag and coat. On my way back out, I wave at Brenda.
Outside, it’s grown chilly in the early October air.
The chill reminds me of Thea stopping by and the impending Halloween party. I like Halloween, but parties aren’t my thing, however I know I need to make more of an effort to do things with my friends. Ever since I moved in with Jace, it’s become even easier to ignore them and that’s not good. I’m lucky to have them in my life when otherwise I’d have no one.
It doesn’t take me long to make the walk back to the apartment. Once inside the building I’m thankful for the heat and I know that colder weather is on the way. I guess this is what I get for being a Texas girl in Colorado. Even though I still haven’t quite adjusted to the difference in weather, I’ve still decided Colorado is my favorite place in the world. It’s beautiful here. Lush green trees, and snowcapped mountains, it’s amazing. Sometimes I feel like I’m on an alien planet compared to the drabness of Texas. I suppose Texas isn’t that bad to other people, but that place will forever be tainted by sour memories.
I take the elevator up to our floor and head down the hall.
It’s quiet inside, and I wonder if Jace is even here. I saw his truck outside, but there are plenty of places he can walk.
I close the door behind me and look around. Jace’s guitar leans against the couch and his notebook rests on the table.
Before I can start toward it, I hear a noise and look up.
I smile as I spot him through the open window, sitting on the fire escape smoking a cigarette. His hair is a mess, like he’s run his fingers through it a million times.
“Hey,” I call and his head swivels to me.
“You’re home early,” he remarks, inhaling a drag of his cigarette.
I make my way to him and climb through the open window, sitting beside him on the metal grate. Below us traffic is stopped at the stoplight in front of our building.
Dark Hearts Page 11
