by Stacy Borel
I was a little later than I told him I would be, but my economics class was getting the best of me, and I needed the extra thirty minutes. He’d better not have eaten all my sweet ’n’ sour chicken, or he’d be missing an arm. But when I got there, I walked through the front door, and it was quiet except for some low noise from the television. I wasn’t getting any whiffs of pork lo mein or steaming egg rolls. What in the hell?
“Foster?” I called out. Peering into the kitchen, I didn’t find any white food cartons on the counter or dishes in the sink. My brows came together.
Dumping my stuff on the counter, I walked into the living room and a rerun of Ridiculousness was on the big screen, but nobody was here. Pulling out my cell phone, I began to text Foster, but I heard a door open down the hall. Crew strode in, not even realizing I was here. I willed myself to hold completely still so that I could watch him, even if for just a few minutes. My poor heart started pitter-pattering against my chest. How could he not hear me? I was breathing like a fat kid who just ran a mile.
I had to let him know I was here. Otherwise, I looked like some creepy ass stalker who hid in closets watching through the slats. Hello, future Ted Bundy. I tried to subtly clear my throat in the most casual attempt, but I only wound up choking on my own tongue. I sent myself into a coughing fit and had to prop my hand on the wall half bent at the waist. I gasped for air, and a glass of water appeared in front of my face.
“Drink it,” Crew demanded.
I snatched it from him and downed it in a few gulps. I sputtered out a few more pathetic coughs and righted myself only to see he was nearly glaring at me. What did I do besides nearly die in front of him?
I swallowed. “Erm, where’s Foster?”
He raised one dark brow. “Don’t know. I haven’t even seen him today.”
I balked. “Bastard,” I whispered to myself.
“Excuse me?”
“Huh?” I asked, looking up at him. “Oh, it just seems my cousin has suckered me for the last time.”
He ran his fingers through his dark hair. “I’m not following. But why are you here hiding in the corner and shit?”
“I’m not hiding.”
He was once again shirtless, but at least he had on a pair of black sweatpants. He was barefoot and his tattooed arm was directly in my line of sight. He was a masterpiece. Not just the black patterns that created an image but all of him. He was a masterpiece that I’d wondered how many stopped and admired? How many had had a chance to explore his glorious body with more than their eyes? A pang of jealousy shot through me, and I chastised myself.
“How long were you standing here watching me?” He called me out faster than I had the ability to make up an excuse.
My face heated. I was going to murder my cousin in the worst way imaginable. He set me up, and I knew damn well he had plied me with Chinese, knowing it would bring me from the far corners of the earth because it was my favorite food. He knew Crew was going to be here. He knew I’d get here, and I’d be stuck.
“I wasn’t watching you. I just walked in.”
One side of his bowed lips lifted. “You’re a shit liar, Ashton. Anybody ever tell you that?”
I frowned.
Crew chuckled, and it was a heavenly sound. He stretched out his arm and took the glass out of my hand. I held completely still as his fingers brushed against mine when he purposely grasped where I was holding. More than my face felt warm. Tingling traveled all the way up and hit me right in the ticker. He was drawing me in, and I didn’t remember giving my body permission to react this way.
I sighed, trying to shake it off. “I happen to think I’m pretty decent?”
“I see.”
Some hair that I currently had in a wild pineapple bun on top of my head fell into my face. I haphazardly blew it away, which made him smile even bigger at me. I looked all around, unsure of what to do, but then my stomach decided for me. It roared to life and gave away just how famished I was. I crossed my arms over my midriff. Embarrassment was beginning to be a familiar feeling where Crew was concerned.
“Hungry?”
“A little.”
He leaned back and looked at the clock on the microwave. “I can toss a shirt on real quick, and we can go grab a bite to eat. Or if you don’t feel like going anywhere, I can order something?” He was making a kind gesture, but I could only imagine what kind of fiasco eating around him would look like. I clearly couldn’t even put one foot in front of the other. “Foster will probably be back at some point.”
Being alone with him was a terrifying prospect, but then again, I was alone with him right now. I didn’t have to make this weirder than it already was. It would be a good time to let him see that I wasn’t a walking train wreck. Going out to get food sounded an awful lot like a casual date but staying in sounded too intimate. However, I voted no for putting a shirt back on. I tried to clear my head of that last thought before I responded. “We could order Chinese since that’s what I planned on eating anyway.”
“I haven’t had it in a while, so that sounds good to me.”
“I can call it in. Is there something in particular you want?”
He started striding down the hall but called back to me. “I’ll eat anything.”
I pulled out my phone ready to shoot Foster a text before I looked up the number for takeout. The doorbell rang, and I glared at the door. Mumbling, I moved to open it. “I swear if this is one of your stupid little bimbos, I’m going to twirl her hair around my hand and fling her across the parking lot.”
When I opened the door, I was greeted by a young kid who looked barely old enough to drive. He had a hat on his head that said Golden Dragon, and he was holding two plastic bags full of wonderful smelling food. Looking down at a receipt, he said, “Did you order a large sweet ’n’ sour chicken, large pork lo mein, fried rice, beef and broccoli, and crab rangoon?”
I looked around. Coincidence that a neighbor ordered Chinese too, and exactly what I would have gotten. “Uh, I think you’ve got the wrong place.”
My phone chimed, and I glanced down.
FOSTER: Got you food. If Crew wants a little meow meow after dinner, maybe U should let him.
My mouth dropped open. Over the delivery boy’s shoulder, I searched the parking lot. He was around here somewhere, watching. How else would he know? He had to be. And that text went far beyond the boundaries of sharing when I told him things. What in the actual fu—
“Ma’am?” the kid asked, interrupting my thoughts.
“Sorry, yeah, I guess I did.”
He looked at me funny but handed me the receipt. “Sign here please.”
I snatched the pen and paper from him and used the doorframe to write on. When I finished, I gave it back to him, and he handed me the bags and walked away. I was left standing with the scent of my favorite food, Foster ready to die, and Crew somewhere in the house probably putting on clothes. Shame. I shut the door and went into the kitchen. Pulling each Styrofoam box out, I began naming a different way to commit murder as I laid each one on the counter.
“Wow, that was fast!” Crew stated as he came up behind me.
All six foot however many inches of him towered over me as I felt the warmth of him near my back. “They’re the fastest. It’s why I order from them.”
He didn’t question it, but whatever. We both loaded some food up on a paper plate and walked into the living room to sit down. Crew asked if I minded if he changed the channel, and I told him no.
“Your family seems to be a little sports crazed.”
An observation that one could pick up within the first two minutes of meeting any of them. “You could say that.”
He bit off the broccoli floret, leaving the stem, which he scraped off onto his plate. “You play any sports?”
I was taking small lady-like bites despite feeling ravenous. “Not since high school. I used to play softball and a little bit of volleyball. Neither of which I was very good at.”
“Someho
w, I doubt that.”
I gave him a genuine smile. “No really. As far as the rest of my family is concerned, they all have amazing athletic abilities, but I somehow missed that gene.”
“Funny. I kind of pictured you more as the cheerleader type.”
I wrinkled my nose. “Ew, not even.”
A small rumble came from his chest. “Nothing wrong with a cheerleader.”
“Sure, if you’re stuck up, got handed keys to your daddy’s Audi A5, and tried to sleep with every boy on the football team.”
“Stereotyping, aren’t you?”
I swallowed my food. “Nope, not even a little bit. I don’t know what kind of school you went to, but around here, that’s exactly what you get.”
“Savannah’s really not that different.”
“No? So what were you in high school?”
Without skipping a beat, he said, “Introverted jock.”
“That sounds like a double negative.”
Picking at his fried rangoon, he said, “It kind of is. I was a basketball player, and I dabbled a bit with indoor hockey and golf, but I was also a book nerd. I was often studying while my buddies were out with the girls who drove Daddy’s A5.”
Was he being serious? Between being a mechanic and the tattoos, I never placed him in the role of enjoying a novel or studying.
“So wait, did you go to college?”
He nodded. Taking another large bite, I watched as he thoughtfully chewed his food. A small drip of teriyaki sauce was on his lower lip, and I contemplated taking a taste. I didn’t think he realized that even from here, sitting on the couch opposite me, he smelled delicious even with all the food around. I wanted to suck his lower lip into my mouth and relish in every flavor of him.
“I went to school. But only for a couple of years. I haven’t graduated yet.”
“Taking a break?”
“Something like that. Circumstances caused me to put it on hold while I’m here.” There was so much more behind his solemn expression, but it wasn’t my place to pry.
Attempting my best to keep the conversation casual, I shrugged. “You could always take a class or two here. I attend the university, and it’s a really nice campus.”
He appeared to think about that for a moment. He opened his mouth to say something, but then he closed it.
“What are you going to school for?”
He shifted the attention to me just when I was gathering a little more about him. “I have business listed as my major, but now I’m not so sure. Everyone in my family is a personal trainer, has a business degree, or is trained in the nursing field, but truthfully, none of them interests me.”
“You still have time,” he said, and the corner of his mouth tilted up.
The small gesture caused little flutters in my stomach. I wasn’t fond of my body responding to every little thing that he did like he was the most fascinating thing I’d ever come across.
“Time is relative.”
“You couldn’t be more right.”
I had an errant thought. After my conversation with Holly about taking chances and playing out what I thought was Crew’s attraction to me, I decided being brazen was the only way to go. Like stepping off a cliff without a net below and expecting to be saved, I opened my mouth. “So I’d like to ask you something since I haven’t shamed myself in the past forty minutes sitting with you.” I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. “My birthday is in a few days. There just so happens to be a party at one of Foster’s friend’s frat houses. He suggested I ring in my twenty-first birthday with a bang. What better than a bunch of drunk frat guys, right?”
When I peered up at him, he was frowning. Maybe this wasn’t such a great idea. Reel it in, Ashton, reel it in. “You’re more than welcome to join us. I mean, it’s not a huge deal or anything, but you only turn twenty-one once, right?”
“It was Foster’s idea?”
I tipped my head. “Yes, why?”
He appeared to want to say something but then thought better of it. “I’ll be there.”
He said yes? I was thrilled despite his appearance not being as excited.
Crew’s jaw tightened, and his hair fell into his eyes. He brought his arm up, and he ran his fingers through the dark tresses. “I’m sure you’ve been trashed before, and Foster will probably take care of you, but with someone like you around, it could spell trouble. Is he planning to drink too?”
Someone like me? “Um, maybe. I don’t know, why?”
He set his plate down, no longer interested in the remaining noodles. “I’ll be there.”
“What did you mean, someone like me?” I genuinely wanted to know. Did he think I was some little mouse who couldn’t handle herself? I’d actually never gone out and gotten drunk. Not even when my friends said there was a party and every cute boy in school would be there. It wasn’t my cup of tea. And going against my dad’s rules wasn’t really my forte.
He turned so he was giving me his full attention. “Guys look for women like you who do things without realizing they are doing it. The way you move, the way you talk, your presence … it’s all like crooking your finger and saying, ‘Here kitty, kitty.’”
I audibly swallowed. “But I’m not doing anything.”
He leveled a stare at me. His pupils dilated, and his voice sounded a little gruff. “Exactly.”
Chills broke out over my skin, and I got an inkling that he was not just speaking for other males but more for himself. I had no clue this was how I came across to him. I licked my lips, and his deep yellow hue eyes darted to my mouth. Maybe he was talking about small gestures such as that one? Except how could something so simple be suggestive? As soon as I thought it, I knew because he did it too.
“So you’re saying a male might notice me just because of how I’m even breathing?”
“That might be a stretch, but something like that.”
“You make it sound like I’m some helpless baby animal in a sea of predators.” His posture was rigid, and he seemed to be holding himself back. But back from what? Me? Before I thought too much about it, I asked him, “What are you then?”
He leaned forward, and I could smell a hint of sweetness from the sweet on his breath. “I’m the worst of them. I’m the one who takes you when you’re least expecting it.”
I swallowed hard. He was serious. Had he been anybody else, I would have burst out laughing, but Crew meant every word. It was like a promise. One that might have been my warning, but I didn’t intend to heed it. The air around us was electric and heavy, and I could feel the sexual tension building. Desire now replaced the hunger that I’d felt before. Desire to pounce and see if the intensity behind his eyes matched what I knew he could do to me in the bedroom.
The front door of the apartment opened at the most inopportune time, and Foster came strutting in like he ruled the world. The smug expression on his face as he made eye contact with me made me want to fly off the couch and tackle him to the ground. His dumb ass knew I could too. He was big, but I was fast. The only reason I didn’t was because I was feeling dazed and befuddled after this little conversation.
“Oh, hey! Gosh, I completely forgot you were coming over, Ash. I’m so sorry.”
I glared at him, and he winked.
“There’s takeout in the kitchen if you want some,” Crew offered.
“I’m actually stuffed.” He rubbed his stomach. “Grabbed a burger after work and topped it off with a shake.”
“Ashton just told me about her birthday,” Crew interrupted.
“Yeah? You should come, man. It’s always a good time.”
“I think I will.” He turned his entire attention to me. “I know how those parties can be. I’d hate to see Ashton here get shoved around.”
Foster guffawed. “No shit. Sometimes those parties can get a little rough.”
Despite his eyes being on me, both of them were speaking like I wasn’t in the room. I had just taken my last bite and was setting my plate down on the tabl
e to scold them both when Foster abruptly changed the subject.
He looked at my leftover food, and said, “You know, I think I actually might have some fried rice.”
Crew sounded off as Foster went in the kitchen. “Look out, I hear they use cat meat in some of their dishes.”
For the second time in a night, I started sputtering, and I heard my dickhead cousin chuckling from the kitchen. Oh, he would definitely pay for this one.
Ashton
“YOU ARE NOT WEARING THAT!” Holly said, her face etched with pure disgust.
I looked down at myself, then back at her. “What’s wrong with this one?”
“It screams buttoned-up school teacher. Except not the naughty kind that you hear about in the news because she couldn’t keep her paws off the youngsters.”
I was currently over at Holly’s house trying on clothes that I bought to wear for my birthday party. So far, she had vetoed everything, including this last outfit that I had on. It was a cute denim skirt that went to my knees, and a white top that had three-quarter-length sleeves with decorative gold buttons across the shoulders. I figured with some heels and a dangle necklace, I could dress it up a little to make it more of a going out look. Apparently, she disagreed.
I blinked. “Who hurt you in your past life?”
She sighed, clearly exasperated with me. “It happens, Ash. Keep up.”
After seeking her advice about Crew, I had decided it might be fun to have her help me choose what to wear. I needed a friend, but I didn’t know I was diving headfirst into a cesspool of harsh criticism. Holly was being more judgmental than I anticipated, and I was ready to throw my hands up and wear my usual jeans and a tank top. Feeling frustrated, I sank down onto the bed.
“I’m lost here. Dressing for a guy isn’t my thing, and it’s not like I have a ton of experience with it. I want to feel comfortable, but I don’t want to look like the next girl who will bend over and twerk for a shot and a slap on the ass.”
