I do, feeling nauseous as hell. Nico leans against the wall, not abandoning me at least.
Sitting, Phil Fox asks, “So, you need a part-time job? Nights?” I nod. “Normally, I run through the gamut of questions I have for the typical applicant. Your application is impressive, and with Nico’s referral, of course, that weighs heavier than empty words on paper. What department were you looking to get into? I have a few openings, or you can be a cashier.”
My voice is scratchy from the hazy air. “Uh, I really don’t know.”
Nico says, “I think he’d be good in Hardware. There’s an opening there since Toby left.”
“There is. How well do you know your way around a toolbox?”
They both stare at me as if I’m the star witness on the stand. “I know some.” I know nothing.
Nico laughs. “Greg here is a whiz with screws.” Ass clown.
“Sounds like a perfect fit. When can you start?” Never.
How on point. Working with screws because of a screw. But I have to support one of my daughters somehow. And the cheap screw doesn’t care where I get the money, just that I have it.
Fuck. I’m screwed.
CHAPTER 15
Setting Birdy on the floor in her car seat, I try not to disturb her late nap. The new daycare is wearing out the kid. Must be all the drills and laps.
From the living room, I peer down the hallway, seeing the bathroom light on and the door open. When I hear shuffling, I go to the doorway, expecting to find Garrison. And fuck...
Standing on the thin bathmat dragging her fingers through her wet hair is Simone. Naked. With her pussy on display and her tits bouncing as she reaches for a nearby towel, she’s like nothing I’ve ever seen before. But I haven’t seen many in the flesh. Seeing her like this, it’s hard to breathe. Hadley is the woman I want. I can’t have this reaction to goddamn Simone Garrison.
I go to move, but I don’t. I can’t. I’m glued to where I stand, drinking in the sight of her like I’m dehydrated in a desert. Her tits are full and boast ripe, juicy nipples. I want a bite, and I hate fruit. Sweet Jesus.
Drying off, she slightly flashes her ass. And I can’t stop imagining my fingers digging into her skin as I drill deeper into her.
No. This can’t happen to me. Shit!
Again, I try to move, but instead, my mouth waters, my fingers itch, and my dick aches like a motherfucker. Staring at Simone, I confirm the drapes don’t match the carpet because there isn’t any. Her pussy is balder than Birdy’s head.
Son of a bitch. I can’t take this.
Simone turns, catching me watching her, and we both jump. Throwing the towel against her chest, which doesn’t cover much, she screeches, “Jesus, Greg! You scared the shit out of me! What’re you doing? Spying on me?”
My voice is caught between a damn whisper and a fucking groan. “Uh, no. I was... I just... I...” I have no answer for what I was doing.
Relaxing somewhat, her towel droops and again her body enthralls me. When she giggles, I succeed in dragging my gaze from her exposed tits to her face, dazed. She asks, “Is there a reason why you’re gawking at me?”
I blink, averting my gaze to the wall as both of my hands go to my mouth as if I’m trying to prevent myself from literally sucking her left tit. Since she’s waiting for an answer, I drop my hands. “No. Um, I didn’t know you were here. I’m...” Close to losing my load, and my mind because of it.
Her eyes march all over me, stalling on my swollen fly, and she smiles as she tosses her towel onto the floor, trapping me. But I’m not fighting to escape. “Let’s get it all out there, Rodwell. Your turn. Drop ‘em. I want to see what you’re packing.”
“What?” I look from her pussy to the bathroom sink. “Yeah. Birdy’s crying,” I lie, managing to take a step back into the wall behind me. Astounded and speechless, I bounce off it and go the opposite way to my room.
“Greg,” Simone pleads as I go into my room and slam the door, probably waking up the kid. Leaning against the door, my heart hammers so hard I swear it’s knocking. In a hurry, I claw at my zipper as I catch the breath I didn’t know I lost. Pulling down my pants enough, I shove down the front of my underwear. Putting my right hand up to my mouth, I spit on it and then wrapping my fingers around my dick, I furiously jerk off. I haven’t been this heated, this desperate since that night with Hadley when I came between her legs. But right now, I’m in my room rubbing one out because I saw Simone Garrison naked. Fuck, though. Her body refuses to leave my thoughts. Christ. Her cunt. I want it on me. I underestimated all of it.
Frantically wetting my hand again, I jerk harder, louder, the pressure building fast. As my head rolls against the door and my pants fall to my ankles, I moan amid fast breaths and whispering fuck to myself. Cupping my balls, I lightly squeeze before pumping cum all over the floor with another moan as I do. I’m probably not the first one to jizz there. And I’m not a small leaker. I’ve got more cream than a box of Twinkies.
“Shit,” I hiss to the ceiling, appreciating the temporary pleasure, trying to imagine actually shooting it into Hadley this time, but at the moment, all I can think of is Simone spread out beneath me.
Hard knocking vibrates into my back. “Greg, are you okay?” Fuck no. I’m living and breathing a major crisis here.
“Yeah,” I mutter, holding my deflating dick as I drip more. How in the hell did I get to this point? I just jerked it like an eighth grader in the bathroom with a houseful of people lurking outside the door.
When I hear her walk away, I exhale and pull up my pants, so confused and now, ashamed of Simone getting to me like that. Yeah. I jerked off after seeing her in my bed, but that was different. I was already horny then. Which makes this time so much worse.
Grabbing a wad of tissues, I clean up the floor. A better cleaning will have to wait. After a quick trip to the bathroom, not needing to remember what I saw there, I go down the hall and to the door. Unable to face Garrison, even clothed now, I say, “I need to head out for an hour.”
“Greg, we—”
“I can’t,” I snap, leaving in a rush to nowhere. Thankfully, I escape without Flo stopping me and ditching the truck, I sprint across the street as I head toward the river. Shoving my hands into my pockets, I inhale the gritty, humid air and avoid eye contact with people on the sidewalk. What the fuck is wrong with me? I jacked off to Simone. Twice. I can’t handle it.
I only slow down when I reach the walking path. Crossing over it, I go beneath the overhead train tracks and then stopping, I lean against one of the brown metal girders near the bank of the James River. It’s not the most fabulous area to be unless you’re homeless or a drug dealer, but it’s somewhere I can clear my head or drain the vein. At least I haven’t been caught doing that one yet.
Not wanting to think, I just watch the water. The bubbling current distracts me, which is good. The sound reminds me of the creek at home in North Carolina, where Eden and I sat on the rocks in the middle of it. That’s what I keep trying to think about, but then...
Simone’s body.
No. Not her. Hadley.
Not her either.
My new job starting Monday. Goddamn it.
Fuck all of this. The more I don’t want to think, the more I do. Garrison is not my type. Garrison is infuriating. Garrison is Finn Wilder’s damn sister. Garrison is... She’s an enormous complication.
Where in the fuck are the drug dealers tonight? Damn it.
After an hour and a half of staring at dark, unexciting water and listening to two vagrants arguing for 20 minutes about a found full can of beer, and then climate change, I cross Dock Street, a parking lot, and head back along the darkened sidewalk of South 26th. As I trudge up my building’s stairs, I hope by freak chance Simone and Birdy are asleep. I quietly open the door, not liking it was unlocked, and go in, finding Simone in the rocking chair feeding Birdy. Well, shit.
Simone briefly glances at me and then to Birdy, asking, “Where’d you go?” Either she
’s upset I left, or she’s plotting my death for walking in on her. Please let it be death.
“I... I took a walk.” I remove my shoes and drop them on the floor, still incapable of looking at her.
“Why?”
“Just wanted to.”
Hearing her talking to Birdy, pleading for a burp, I risk a glance, but Garrison glares right back at me. She could have fucking PMS. Great. A merciless death.
I go into the kitchen to find something to eat. Simone had picked up some things at the store. That was unexpected and maybe nice.
When I do see food, I’m suddenly not hungry. Restless, I sort of pace around the kitchen while Simone tends to Birdy in the other room. I know I should be doing it, but I’m no good for the kid at the moment. Or ever.
I need a shower, but afraid Simone will seek retribution, I hold off, still prowling the kitchen. I find stupid shit to do like unloading the dishwasher and doing a piss-poor job of wiping the counter.
Finding my spine under the toaster, I go into the living room, where Simone is rocking Birdy, who is now asleep. As I walk past, on the way to my room, Simone asks, “What’s with you, Greg?”
I stop, cringing because I did stop. Shrugging, I notice my reflection in the dark TV screen. “Nothing.” Everything.
Simone stands, carrying Birdy, and I mindlessly follow. Not sure why. It’s not like her bad mood is a pressing matter or my problem. Though, she’s making it mine.
Simone puts Birdy in her crib and then storms past me. Goddamn it. She is mad at me.
We both return to the living room, and she spins around, spouting, “You’re welcome.”
My eyebrows bunch together as I try to decode what the fuck she means. “For what? You not closing the bathroom door during a shower?” That deserves a parade.
“That’s good for starters.”
She crosses her arms, and I sigh. “I’m sorry.”
Not expecting that, Simone raises her eyebrows. “Okay. I should’ve closed the door.” When I nod, not meaning it at all, she says, “You act like you’ve never seen a naked woman before.”
My remorse switches to irritation. “Get bent, Simone.”
I head for the kitchen, and she trails behind me. I go to the fridge and grab a Dew, snapping it open. As I chug, she continues, “I was saying you’re welcome for helping you with Morgan. Twice now.”
I kind of smile and then I kind of frown, making short-lived eye contact, relieved she’s not talking more about the bathroom incident. “I didn’t need help. I know my way around her.”
“But still... You... I stuck by you, Greg. I supported you. As a fucking friend would.”
“We’re not fucking friends. We’re barely handshaking friends.”
She rolls her eyes and leaves the kitchen in a huff. Good because it’s fucking tragic that she’s not naked anymore. Son of a bitch.
“Okay...” I mumble out loud, confused even more. Setting down my drink, I go to the living room and seeing her picking up things laying around, I say, “Because I didn’t say thank you for something I didn’t ask you to do? And what did you do, really? It’s not like you punched her in the face or gave her a cunt punt.” But either would’ve been acceptable enough to earn a thank you.
She bitterly laughs, shaking her head. “I would have, but I didn’t want to break a fucking nail defending you.” Simone pouts as she brushes past me, her hand accidentally touching my hip, and I instantly feel the inner workings of another hard-on starting. Fuck. Still, with her attention on something else, I watch her. Even wearing black sweats and a blue T-shirt now, her curves are evident. Simone is hot as fuck, especially knowing what’s underneath her clothes. Christ Almighty. I want to see all of her again. If I didn’t have serious problems, she wasn’t Wilder’s sister, and she were gagged, I would’ve made a better deal with her that included no-strings sex. As she bends, picking up clutter, I visualize slamming into her cunt from behind or fucking her against the wall like I’ve seen in movies.
Sighing to relieve some of my frustration, I start to return to the kitchen since it’s the only place I can go right now. But hearing a loud zipper, I turn to see Garrison stuffing things into her overnight bag. “What’re you doing?”
She keeps packing like it’s the night before spring break. “I’m going home.”
“Why?”
“My job here is done. You don’t need me anymore.” She disappears down the hall, and the sound of her throwing her makeup into a bag shocks me. But that shitty mess won’t be missed.
When she returns to the living room, I argue, “I only said I didn’t need you to fight my battles.”
“I heard you.” She shrugs as she sets down her makeup bag, shoving more things into her other colossal bag, and then fighting with the zipper. “I think it’s time for you to fly on your own.”
“I’m not kicking you out. You can stay.”
She looks around, sucking in both of her lips. I think she does that when she wants to say more. Maybe I’m wrong. I watch as Garrison bends to grab her shoes. Fuck me. Her ass is a work of art. I’ll definitely miss seeing that. Under her breath, she says, “You’re dating.”
“Dating?” I laugh. “What the fuck? It’s a downtown music fest. Who cares?”
Garrison sighs, gathering her bags together. “You’re spending time with her.”
“Because I have to.” Oh, shit.
Surprised, she looks at me, which I can’t do the same in return, cursing my fuck-up. “Why do you have to?”
I prop myself against the kitchen entryway, staring at the worn carpet. “Because she asked. I don’t want to hurt her feelings.” And because I’ll humor Hadley once with this stupid idea.
“You actually care about Rhonda’s feelings? Since when?”
I shrug, counting the holes in the carpet. “I have nothing against her. She’s okay.” I don’t even remember her last name.
“Greg, she’s great. Jesus. You could fall for her.”
“Yeah. Not likely.” I fell once. I won’t do it again.
“You never know. And me being here... It looks bad.”
“To who?”
“Rhonda. I’m sure she wouldn’t appreciate me being here.”
Glancing at Simone, I laugh. “What’s wrong with you? She’s not my girlfriend. She has zero say about who stays here or what the fuck I do.”
Simone frowns, playing with the zipper on a bag. “But she could be your soulmate.”
“That’s fucking hilarious.” I gave away my soulmate.
Garrison scoops a handful of her hair, pulling it back as she quietly stares at the couch. “Anyway. I’m sorry for helping you with Morgan. And I hope you have fun on your date Saturday.”
She slings her overnight bag over her shoulder while grabbing her other one. I ask, “What about Saturday night? Jake’s?”
“We’ll scratch that. Take Rhonda to dinner after the festival. Sweep her off her feet.”
“Not even if I were Mr. Clean.”
Simone’s gaze drifts toward my bedroom, where Birdy’s sleeping. Mine goes to Garrison’s chest, remembering the sight from earlier, which does nothing to keep my needs in check. “I don’t know. You could end up back here and...”
“Yeah. Alone. Look, I said I’d be your partner in crime. Right?”
She nods with a half-smile. “I think that’s what I said. Fuck. I said a lot of stupid shit.”
“You did. As usual. So, just meet me here at 9:00 Saturday night.”
Simone slightly nods as she picks up her purse, being weighed down with more crammed bags than a drug mule. “Can I maybe visit Birdy sometimes?” At the mention of her name, Simone’s eyes tear up somewhat.
“Yeah. Whenever.”
She smiles, but it’s again directed toward the sleeping kid. “Okay.”
Simone blows a kiss toward my bedroom, and when she opens the door, I impulsively say, “Garrison, come on. Fuck. Just stay until Friday.”
Simone’s pink lipstick glows
in the porchlight, but she still doesn’t look my way. “You’re doing great. I mean, you’re not winning Father of the Year this time, but you’ll get there. I know you will.”
“Gee, thanks.”
“I guess you can say it.” She heads for the stairs, leaving me fucking baffled and a little scared. A lot scared. I can’t take care of this kid on my own.
Christ. Why are women so goddamn complicated? Every single one of them in my life. Even the dead ones.
Going into my room, I quietly plop down on my bed and grab Eden’s diary and a pen. At the bottom of her last entry, I write.
Dear E,
You know nothing. My life is shit. I now work two jobs, one of which I’m keeping a secret for as long as possible, I fathered a kid with a slut, I may have fathered a kid with Hadley, I saw the wrong woman naked, and I’m an alcoholic waiting to happen. Where in the hell is my pot of gold? I can’t have what I want. Anywhere. I lose. So, go ahead and laugh it up. I would if this were your life.
Oops. Too soon?
Greg
Maybe I didn’t appreciate Simone’s help when I should have. But that’s because of her quest for Tesco. He’s going to take advantage of her giving nature and her mouthwatering body. I can’t dig deep enough to respect her for wanting him to do that to her. Simone is not a bad person. I like her to an extent. But having no respect for her almost ranks her with Shasta.
Setting down the diary and pen, I roll over, smelling Simone on my pillow and the sheets. Fuck. I inhale her. Over and over until my hand goes to my hardening dick and I rub my fingers on it through my pants. Knowing it’s not going to disappear and not wanting to do it with Birdy feet from me, I get up and go to the bathroom, where I relive her nakedness and for the third time get off on goddamn Simone Garrison.
CHAPTER 16
Lunch with me?
Outside?
Already out here.
Sighing, I stare at Hadley’s text. What the hell does she have in store for me today? Another lunch with surprise guests? A deathmatch with Wilder? An elopement with Rhonda? Shit. The possibilities are bloodcurdling.
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