Obscured Love

by Delilah Mohan

  Obscured Love

  Delilah Mohan

  Contents

  Obscured Love

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Epilogue

  Untitled

  Acknowledgments

  OBSCURED LOVE

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Cover Design by James, GoOnWrite.com

  © Copyright: Delilah Mohan

  Published: February 2017

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in retrieval system, copied in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise transmitted without written permission from the publisher. You must not circulate this book in any format.

  Due to adult situations and language, this book is recommended for readers 18+.

  Obscured Love

  By Delilah Mohan

  Chapter 1

  LOTUS

  “I’m so done, Myra. Like seriously, just drop me off at a convent and wave farewell.” I told my best friend as I poured some margarita into a glass and handed it to her. I looked at my glass and back to the blender. Screw it! I plopped my straw into the blender and carried it into the living room with me.

  “Calm the theatrics. Your date couldn’t have gone that bad.” She slurped at her frozen drink while moving her legs so I could sit next to her.

  “Oh, it was. He had a comb over. He was like forty and all he could do was talk about himself.” I hate selfish bastards. Who am I kidding? All men are selfish bastards. Every. Single. One.

  “If he was that bad, why did you agree to go out with him in the first place?” Myra moved her thick brown hair over to her right shoulder and positioned her back against the arm of the couch.

  “Two words: blind date. Would you believe it was my first one ever, too? And my last. I will never ever, for as long as I live, let my mother’s friend set me up with her nephew. I don’t care what a good boy he is.” I couldn’t help roll my eyes. I should have known better but the nagging was endless and I finally caved.

  Myra snorted then coughed on her drink. “You know what we need? Direction.”

  “Direction?” I asked as I took another swig, letting the effects of the alcohol run through me and give my body that pleasant little tingle. I probably shouldn’t have put so much tequila in this batch but I can regret it tomorrow; tonight. . . I drink.

  Myra flung her hand that held her glass to the side, nearly spilling her bright red concoction all over my cream suede couch. “You know, direction. Like a list of things you want in a guy. It shouldn’t be so hard, right?”

  I sighed. “It’s not what I want in a guy that’s the problem, My. It’s that everything I want is all wrong. Every guy I pick, wrong. I’m doomed to be single forever. I’m twenty-eight years old and I feel like I’m fifty. I sort of just want to meet ‘the guy’, fall in love, have kids, and get married. The whole nine yards.”

  “In that order?” She questioned.

  “I don’t give a fuck what order. I want it.” And I did. I really, really did. “I’m days away from rescuing a lost puppy from the animal shelter.”

  “That wouldn’t be so bad, you like puppies.”

  “I do!” I half wailed, half cried, as I threw myself unceremoniously back against the cushion. Yep, too much tequila in this batch, work tomorrow was going to be a bitch. We sat in silence for a few minutes while slurping our drinks.

  “My dating life is impossible.”

  “I think. . .” I paused trying to process my blurry thoughts. “I have an idea.”

  “Tellll me!” Myra demanded, probably way more dramatically than the situation called for.

  “I shouldn’t write a list of things I want in a man; I need to write a list of things I like in a man that are all bad. Things to stay away from if I ever want to find someone to be future Mrs. Bishop, a list of deal breakers.”

  “YES!” Her eyes bugged out as she shouted, then her face grew serious and her voice turned monotone, “We’re doing this.”

  “Ya?” I questioned.

  “Ya.” She stated.

  “Okay, let’s do this!” Next thing I knew we were both huddled over my coffee table, notebook and pen in hand, with silly cheesy grins across our faces.

  “Let’s start with your last date and go backward. What quality did he have that you despised?”

  “We already went over this.” I blinked a few times, trying to remember my date even though it was only a few hours ago. “Ned was a selfish bastard. He talked way too much and he had a comb over. Fucking Ted.”

  Her brows scrunched together. “I thought you said his name was Fred?” I shrugged my shoulders in reply. “Moving on. Okay, so if I recall, a lot of the past boyfriends have been selfish talkative bastards. So, let’s put that on the list.”

  “Don’t forget comb over.” I reminder her.

  “Lo, I doubt you will ever date anyone with a comb over again and….AND… none of the past boyfriends had a comb over. If you want full head of hair on the list, I am happy to write that down.”

  She bent down and began writing. “No! No! Stop! I’m not willing to compromise on hair. Future Mr. Bishop needs hair.”

  “Ok. Impulsive? You always date men who don’t bother thinking before they act.”

  “I do not!” I did.

  “You do. Nick, Mark, Jesse, Steven. Should I go on? I can go all day, baby.”

  I folded my arms. “Fine. Write impulsive.”

  The rest of the Deal Breaker list went similarly. Myra would mention a flaw all my boyfriends have had and I spent time disputing them. She would win because she was right and at that point, slightly more sober. By the time the whole list was written, my blender was a few sips away from being empty and I was a few sips away from not being able to stand on my own.

  “Myyyra.” I slurred her name, a little disoriented. I don’t think she really noticed. “Let’s be girlfriends. I would make a good girlfriend, right? I’m hoooooot, right?” I licked my finger and touched my own ass while making a sizzle noise.

  She walked over to me, putting her arm around my waist. “Oh honey, of course you’re hot, but we can’t be girlfriends. You like cock too much, remember? And men, you really love men. Let’s get you to bed.”

  I shook my head while it was leaning on her shoulder. “No, I changed my mind. I no longer like impulsive, selfish, sarcastic, possessive douches. I’ve decided that maybe I should be a lesbian. With you. You never let me down.”

  “Yep, bedtime for you.” She tightened her grip on my waist and started to lead me down the hall when there was a knock at the door. It was late; well late for me, at least. I’m usually in bed by nine, a nice respectable adult bedtime, I like to argue. But my clock showed it was just after eleven. Late. I wiggled away from her grip
.

  “Let me just get the door!” I told her as I used the wall to guide my way to my front door. Without looking through the peep hole, I threw open the door, expecting my brother to be on the other side. Only it wasn’t my brother. No, I couldn’t get that lucky. It was none other than the dark, mysterious, and completely damaged childhood friend of my brother’s.

  “Well, look who it is Myra. It’s none other than Beckett Fucking Cole!” I announced right before I slammed the door on his face.

  Chapter 2

  BECKETT

  “She’s kidding me, right? She’s got to be fucking kidding me.” I looked down at my German Shepherd for agreement. Ruins just looked up at me with eyes equally confused. I raised my fist and pounded on her door twice as hard. “Open up, Blue Eyes! You said you forgave me!” I shouted, uncaring of her possibly sleeping neighbors.

  “I did forgive you. But now I’m drunk, and drunk me doesn’t forgive and forget quite so easily.”

  I put my hand on my hips and took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. Of course, drunken Lotus doesn’t forgive me; why would she? Especially since sober Lotus spent half her childhood making my life complicated. Nothing is easy with this girl, I swear to god, nothing.

  “Damn it, Lotus, it was thirteen years ago! Move on already.”

  “Nope. Not until you apologize.”

  She still wanted an apology years later and she still wasn't going to get one. “Baby, come on…”

  “I’m not ten years old Beck, that babyyyy, isn’t going to work on me anymore.” She attempted to deepen her voice to make the word ‘baby’ sound like my voice. I couldn’t help but chuckle. I didn’t think it would work; she was as stubborn as they come. When we were kids, I could get Bentley’s kid sister to do anything by sweet talking her. Nothing sexual, obviously, she was just a kid and she was practically my own sibling until the day my parents decided to divorce and move me about.

  I pounded on the door again. “Let me in, Blue Eyes! Seriously. It’s almost midnight and you’re going to wake the neighbors.”

  “No, you’re going to wake the neighbors. Apologize.”

  “No, you’re going to wake the neighbors because you won’t let me in. I’m not going to fucking apologize for beating your boyfriend’s ass, Lotus. If it would have been Bentley walking into that garage instead of me, he would have done the same damn thing and you know it. You were fifteen fucking years old and two seconds away from sucking that fucker’s cock.”

  I heard her sniff. Great, the drunken crier. “He broke up with me and now look at my crap of a dating life.”

  “GOOD!” I shouted way too loud, causing her neighbors to peek out from behind their blinds. I turned back to Ruins, “We should just sleep in the truck, boy; way less drama.”

  I heard a wrestling sound from the other side of the door before the lock tumbled and Myra’s face appeared. I couldn’t hide the smile that crept across my face. “Myra? Damn, you’ve grown up.”

  She rolled her eyes at me like she would always do the last time I saw her, thirteen years ago. “Yea, well, I’m not a kid anymore, you big lug. Come give me a hug.”

  I brought Myra in for a giant bear hug, lifting her feet off the floor. “How’s time been for you? Good?” I asked her.

  “Better than it was for you. I’m sorry to hear about Alexa.” She said, reminding me of the past I was trying to escape. Alexa was the love of my life, once. Until she wasn’t. Neither of us had been ready to admit we had changed. We were comfortable, but we weren’t. We were familiar and two total strangers, trying to build something that neither of us had the courage to dispute. The last few years were complicated until she died.

  “No problem. Really, I’ve been fine.” I told Myra.

  “Fine? I heard you’re the biggest man whore this state has seen since you lost her.”

  “Bentley talks too much, all lies.”

  “He worries about you.”

  I had to scoff at that. I was a grown ass man; I didn't need anyone to worry about me. It’d been me against the world ever since my parents split. Nothing changed now, even if I found myself banging on the door of my childhood best friend’s kid sister because I decided to come early and he, apparently, wasn't home. I got transferred to a new law office, which I was thankful for, a new start and all that jazz, a chance to erase all my regrets. But my little place I purchased after selling mine and Alexa’s condo needed some renovating and wouldn’t be done for a few months.

  “How’s Weepy Willow?” I asked Myra, referring to her now teary drunk friend.

  “In need of some serious shut eye, come in.” She told me as she stepped aside, letting Ruins and me past her.

  She let us into a small living room furnished with a cream couch and a dark wood coffee table. Directly opposite of the front door, there was a sliding door, which I assumed led to a back porch of some kind. Off to the right, sort of behind her couch, were a dining room table and a doorway which looked to lead into a small kitchen. Lotus, my little blue eyed girl for as long as I remembered, was slumped on the couch, hugging the armrest. A mass of crazy hair covered her face.

  “Ruins, corner now.” I told my dog as I pointed to the corner. Most people were afraid of my big beast, which was understandable since Ruins didn’t like anyone but me. He walked to the corner of the apartment and sat down, waiting for his next order.

  I walked over to Lotus and knelt down, moving her mass of hair out of the way. She opened her eyes and I held my breath. It had been years since I had seen her in person. Sure, she had grown up, filled in, and become a woman. I had said quick words with her over Skype while talking to her brother, so I knew this. But her eyes. It was hard to forget them, but a shock to see them. Her teary, electric blue orbs peered back at me.

  “Hi Blue Eyes, long time no see.” I told her as I smoothed her hair back and hooked it behind her ears.

  “You came in?” She asked me, slightly slurred and drowsy.

  “I need a place to stay. Can we stay with you?” She shook her head stubbornly. “Please? Just for a while? At least for tonight? We can talk about it tomorrow.”

  “Are you sorry?” her voice began to drift.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t arrive before you finished off that whole pitcher.” I eyed the empty blender on the coffee table. Her hangover would be killer tomorrow.

  “Okay.”

  “Okay?”

  “Okay. You apologized, you can stay.” The next thing I knew, her eyes were closed and she was asleep. I looked up at Myra and smirked, both of us entertained by her wasted state.

  “If you want to take her to her bedroom, I’ll get the couch set up with a blanket and pillow for you.” Myra whispered from right next to me.

  I nodded my head and walked down the hallway, turning on lights. All I needed was to wake her up by jamming her head into the wall or something. Going back to the couch, I moved her body so that I could shift one of my arms under her knee, and the other behind her back, before lifting her up. Her head fell gently against my shoulder and she weighed next to nothing. I carried her down the hall and into the only bedroom in her apartment.

  Trying not to wake her, I carefully laid her down on top of the plush comforter she had on her bed. Finding a blanket folded on her trunk, I unfolded it and wrapped it around her body. I was just about to walk away when I heard her say, “It didn’t work.”

  “What didn’t?” I wasn’t sure if she was asleep or if she could hear.

  “Beating up my boyfriend, it didn’t stop me. It only delayed it a little. I love to suck cock.”

  Lord help me! Why did that make me so fucking angry? She was an adult now, not a kid. But that didn’t stop me from wanting to find every last bastard she’d dated and rip their dicks off.

  Chapter 3

  LOTUS

  Make it stop. Please God, make that sound stop. I tried to pry my gritty eyes open enough to reach in the direction of the sound. Fumbling around my nightstand, I finally found my phone and, a
fter three tries, I got the alarm turned off. I rubbed my dry eyes gently with the palm of my hand, regretting the small movement. Every single movement caused excruciating throbs in my temples, and when I swallowed I had to fight the gag that the taste of my mouth was causing.

  What the fuck happened?

  I lay in bed for a few minutes, trying to gather enough energy to get up. I didn't remember much of what happened after the list was written. Actually, life was sort of blurring then, too. It was the smell of coffee wafting into my room that finally had me slowly sitting up. Myra must have stayed the night to make sure I made it to the other side of my bender. It was sort of our unspoken arrangement to help each other nurse our hangovers.

  Finally making it to the standing position, I tested my legs a little. Last night was a fucking bad idea; work today was going to be a bitch. I made my way down the short hallway toward my kitchen, the smell of coffee growing stronger. My stomach lurched a little with the scent. Taking a deep breath, I rounded the corner ready to thank Myra for her diligent duty as a friend, but stopped short. It wasn’t Myra standing in my Kitchen but a half-naked Beckett Cole, sipping a cup of coffee while feeding a dog half my size some toast.

  Beckett looked up at me and gave me a smile that I’m sure had melted a plethora of lesser women in the past. “Hey Blue Eyes, coffee?”

  He held up the cup he had just sipped from, as if offering it to me. I didn’t make a move to take it from him. I was too busy trying to figure out where the fuck he came from. Did I really miss that much last night that I couldn’t even remember Beckett Fucking Cole and his trusty mountain of a side kick showing up at my apartment door? Apparently, I did, since he was standing shirtless and barefoot in the middle of my kitchen, happily drinking coffee like he belonged there.

  “Beckett?” I said hoarsely.

  “Lotus?” The smartass questioned back.