by Leanne Davis
She shrugged. “Well, weren’t we?”
“Yes, but I never had a chick say that to me before,” he said, laughing out loud. “I take it that wasn’t okay?”
“It was okay.”
“Okay?”
She finally grinned. “You want me to swoon at your feet?”
“I thought you’d be a lot shyer; that’s what I thought.”
“I am shy sometimes.”
“But others you’re not? You make no sense.”
“Maybe I don’t. So… what’s next?”
He took her keys. “How about I drive?”
She nodded and followed him past three parking stalls to where his black, huge SUV was parked. The windows were tinted as dark as the paint job. It wasn’t his, but one of Quentrell’s. He borrowed it sometimes when he was working clubs like last night, and later tonight, after he dropped Olivia off. Quentrell treated him well sometimes, like they were friends. But Derek knew it was all an illusion. Quentrell’s friends ended up as hurt as his enemies. Still, in his own back-asswards way, he took Derek under his wing.
“Nice ride.”
“It’s not mine.” He didn’t have to lie about everything. “It’s a friend’s. He lets me borrow it.”
She slid into the passenger seat after he opened the door and waited for her to get in. He’d never done that before. Shoving the door shut, he almost felt annoyed at her, and his strange desire to do that.
He stuck the key in and the engine sparked to life. The rig was decked out with every bell and whistle a vehicle could have. The dash was lined in rosewood, and the leather was smooth and dark. The shadows of the road flashed over her face as she stared ahead. Her hands were clasped at her knees and she kneaded her fingers together. Her anxiety soon returned.
He pulled into a casual steak house. “This okay?”
She nodded and grabbed the door handle before almost jumping out. Once in the booth, she spent way too much time reading the menu. She ordered a hamburger and fries. He followed suit, but was a little surprised. Looking at her, he guessed she didn’t eat much. But he was wrong. She did. When her order came, she ate the entire meal. They talked of little things, like the restaurant, the people around them, where she went to high school, and where he went. He mentioned the high school where he would have gone if he did. She would never find out differently. He pulled out some cash to pay when the bill came. She watched him, and then thanked him politely for the meal.
Once back in the car, she leaned against the passenger door.
He pulled into the parking lot of the theatre where her car sat innocuously. She pressed her lips together and finally met his gaze. What was next? He didn’t even consider making use of the huge back seat, or the cargo hold of the vehicle.
Again, why was he bothering?
“So, I know you don’t live on campus; do you live at home?”
He stared out the windshield, resting his wrist on the steering wheel. He didn’t meet her gaze because he didn’t feel like looking into the innocent face of a nice person when he lied. It usually didn’t bother him in the least, but he was kind of tired of it tonight. He almost wanted her to just get out so he could stop spewing more lies from his mouth.
“No. I don’t live at home. I live alone.”
“Oh. Already? You must work then too. I was going to get a job through school, I just haven’t had a chance to yet.”
He had a job, all right. One that lined his pockets with rolls of cash. “Yeah, I have a job.”
“Doing?”
“A pharmacy. Just a crappy job, doling out pills.”
“Not your lifelong endeavor, huh?” She was kidding. Of course, no one spent his life doing whatever minimum wage job he had in his teens. Or kept the same job. Most teens, especially those who attended a prestigious private college like the one Olivia went to, didn’t sell drugs either. The sad truth was: it would become his lifelong endeavor. Long ago, he decided he’d either be dead or in jail before he was twenty-one.
He glanced at her. She tilted in her seat to face him. Her expression was of complete sincerity and he knew she wanted to get to know him. Her skinny legs were tucked under her. He wanted to lean over and stick his tongue in her mouth again. Or just touch her lips. She was so soft. So beautiful. So pure to touch and look at. That was the exact reason he felt so shitty suddenly for doing so.
But then again, his dismal life was rather limited, and probably just as fatalistic. Didn’t he deserve a little bit of good? If she were his girl, what could it hurt to just touch some goodness? He never had it. Not once. Not even as a kid. He never once came into contact with girls like Olivia Lindstrom while growing up. And never now.
“Derek?” her hesitant tone stopped him from staring out the windshield and avoiding her gaze. Why was he reluctant to hear her “get to know me” bullshit? Fuck this! He got out of the car and came around to her side where he yanked open her door. He grabbed her around the waist and lifted her out next to him. Leaning his mouth over hers, he pushed his hands into her hair. She nearly felt boneless while being held by him. He finally lifted his mouth off hers and trailed kisses onto her neck.
“You should stay away from me, Olivia. I’m not what you’re looking for.”
“How do you know what I’m looking for?” Her words were as breathless as he felt.
“Because I’m not a nice guy. I’ll use you. I’ll lie to you. I’ll try to get whatever I can out of you. And nothing will stop me. And if I hurt you, I won’t really care.”
“If you were really all about that, why would you warn me?”
He leaned his forehead onto hers, and they stared into each other’s eyes. “I’m trying to be a gentleman.”
“You don’t have to, you know.”
He leaned back. She never answered the way he predicted. “I don’t have to what?”
“Hurt me. Lie to me. Use me.”
“But I will. I’m trying to tell you that.”
“I don’t believe you.” She ducked under his arms and out of his embrace. Halfway to her car, she turned and said, “I think I scare you. I don’t think I have to be scared of you.”
They stared at each other, only separated by a half dozen steps. She finally tilted her mouth up in a small smile. He meant to keep scowling at her and stop this now. He could not have her argue with him about it. What the hell was wrong with her? Why wouldn’t she run now in the opposite direction? Did she doubt what he said? He was trying, for once, to be honest and do the right thing. Why the hell did she think he would be scared of her?
He watched her duck into her car. It was a newer model sedan that she obviously couldn’t have bought for herself. Her nice parents, the one-armed Army vet and child psychologist mother she told him about must be generous. She talked about them a lot. More than he’d ever heard a teenager discuss her parents. Their family. Their home life. It was a good home life. Derek never experienced one. It was almost interesting to hear about hers. Like hearing about an alternate universe.
Only after her taillights disappeared did he finally get into the SUV. He glanced down when his phone pinged. Olivia’s name flashed across the screen. Promised my roommate I’d go to a party with her tomorrow night, wanna come?
He did. He wanted to freaking come. His heart lifted as soon as her name appeared and his pulse increased. Damn! A college freshman party? He couldn’t believe it when he texted back. Yah.
Come to room 20 of Gifford Tower. Eight o’clock. Plus about a half dozen smiley faces. He stared at his phone for the next minute, feeling pretty sure it had never displayed winking, smiley faces before.
He finally flipped the rig around. It might have been the oddest damn night he’d ever spent, and he was always out at night or on the streets, and had done so for half his life.
Derek drove straight to Quentrell’s place. He’d come a lot further in the last decade since Derek started working for him. His place was nothing back then, and now he lived in a house on the outskirts of Marsdal
e. It was nicer than any of Quentrell’s other places. Drugs were starting to pay off well for him. When Derek entered, no one stopped or questioned him. He tossed Quentrell the keys with a quick, thanks. Quentrell was thirty years old now. He ran that end of town. He always insisted on wearing leisure-like suits. They made him look even more sleazy in Derek’s opinion. He used to wear jeans and really look like a thug. Now he just liked like a sleazy banker.
“Get done whatever you needed to get done?” Quentrell asked.
Derek didn’t understand their relationship. Quentrell often asked him about his life and his goings on, but Derek never replied with anything real. They were not friends, and there was no good will there. Just a means of survival. Derek had Quentrell’s back, all the while knowing, and one hundred percent sure, that Quentrell didn’t have his.
“Yeah, thanks for the loan.”
“You ready for the new school year?” That was one of Quentrell’s favorite lines. He loved the college freshman starting out. Derek inevitably made a killing during the first semester of school for him. His tone was as hollow and empty as his heart when he answered, “Sure. Always.”
“There’s some new stuff, over there. Load up. We need an epic month, bro. I got things going on.”
He held Quentrell’s gaze, and fist-bumped him when Quentrell lifted his fist almost in a casual gesture. He knew better however. He detested Quentrell using the subtle “bro” on him. It was a warning. A threat. A promise. His bro.
“Yeah. I got it.”
He grabbed a few boxes off the stash that Quentrell waved toward and quickly took it to the locker where he stored it. Again, a secret to his survival, he rarely carried any product on his person or kept it in his personal space or possessions. He trusted no one. So no one knew where he stored everything. He supplied a lot of Quentrell’s smaller dealers in the area. Some of them were no more than little ‘tweens. They stood on street corners, like he used to. Now he rarely did. The day in the park was unusual, as he seldom went there to work anymore. He had a few clients he still sold to. He’d been supplying them for years and continued to meet up with them. Mostly now, he was fast becoming the go-to guy, the one who stood between Quentrell and the rest of the world.
He tried to ignore the pang that filled his belly as he shut the locker door. He was picturing Olivia going home and falling on her dorm room bed.
Chapter Four
“OLIVIA’S GOT A MAN.”
Ally glanced up from tugging at her hair with a brush. Her brown hair fell to her shoulders and attractively framed her face. Her minimal makeup made her look even better as her eyebrows shot up. “Are you kidding?”
Olivia scowled at her older cousin. Ally had medium brunette hair made shinier by lots of hair product. She was outgoing, well liked, got good grades and planning to go with them tonight. She was pretty much the antithesis of Kylie. Ally had big boobs and perfect curves. Olivia felt scrawny when compared to Ally, starting from her lackluster breasts to her chicken-bone legs. She had the metabolism of a body builder and rarely put on any weight, no matter how much she ate. Which was a lot, contrary to how she appeared.
Olivia rolled her eyes. “I don’t have a man. I went out with someone from one of my classes and he’s coming tonight.”
Ally suddenly sat up. “Here? He’s coming to the dorm?”
“Uh-huh. Why?”
“You gotta get dressed. You can’t go out like that.”
Olivia glanced down. Same as usual. Dark skinny jeans, flats and a hoodie covering her dark tank top. No makeup. Her long hair cascaded around her. It was the only thing that even remotely gave her an inkling of style. Even she had to admit she had pretty hair. “What’s wrong with this?”
“You look like a little girl going to a high school football game. Or some guy’s tomboy kid sister. Come on, Liv, this is college. Act like a girl for once.”
“Yes, and I already have a date. If I suck so bad at being a girl, how come I have a hot guy coming over and neither one of you do?”
“Ouch. Listen to you. So he’s hot?”
“Yeah.”
Ally scoffed and glanced back at the mirror to line her lips. She smacked them loudly with her red wet-looking lipstick. “I’ll bet our ideas of what’s hot are very different.”
“No, they aren’t. Hot is hot. And please don’t make such a big deal about it.”
Ally grinned and flicked a hair tie at Olivia. “Liv, you’ve never even kissed a guy. It’s a big deal if you even show minimal interest in someone. He must be something special if he’s got you thinking about anything besides your music.”
“I’m not that bad, Ally. You both sound like I’m a freaky aberration without any social conscience, I’m not, you know. And I have too kissed a guy.”
Both her cousins stopped what they were doing and lifted their heads to stare at her with their jaws dropped in disbelief. Then they glanced at each other and nearly squealed before rushing over and grabbing her. Even Kylie forgot about being apathetic and sinister for a few minutes. She laughed and giggled like she used to while nearly attacking Olivia on the bed. They all three fell back with laughter after they tickled and pounced on Olivia until she nearly peed.
“Spill it. When?”
“Last night.”
“When? Where were you? How did it happen? Never thought I’d see the day Olivia Lindstrom finally takes her lips off her flute long enough to get some.”
“He came to my show.”
Ally leaned on her elbow as her eyebrows rose. “And he still kissed you… afterwards?”
Olivia scowled at them and sat up. She was leaning against the cinder block wall that served as the backside for her bed. “You are such a bitch. Some people think I’m talented.”
“You are. It’s just not sexy, Liv. Not like playing guitar or drums in a band. Or singing. Those are sexy. Strange little flutes and folk music? Not so sexy.”
“Well, when I came out into the lobby, he walked up to me and kissed me without a word. So I beg to differ.”
“He just kissed you? Like… what? He was so overcome with your performance? Or did he just want to cop a cheap thrill?”
Olivia shrugged, honestly unsure about Derek’s motive. “I don’t know, but I think it was the first option. He was staring at me all intense-like… and then he kept doing it.”
“Doing what?”
Olivia shrugged her bony shoulders. “He kept kissing me. On the lips, but they were quick and kind of, I don’t know, innocent, I guess, like he just had to kiss me. It was sweet, not sexual. So yeah, I think it was option A.”
Ally leaned back and pulled her knees up to her chest. “Okay, I’ve done it with a half dozen guys and I’m pretty sure I’ve never seen any of them look at me like that. Are you sure?”
“How should I know? I’m the freaky, antisocial virgin, remember?”
“Does he know that?”
She rolled her eyes and scooted to the end of the bed before getting on her feet. “Of course not. I didn’t lead with, ‘I’m the virgin, Olivia, nice to meet you.’”
Kylie flashed her smile. “Well, thank God for that. It’s nothing to be proud of.”
“Neither is screwing every new stranger you meet.”
Kylie stuck her tongue out. “It’s fun though.” She too got onto her feet and headed towards her small closet. Opening the door, she tugged out a black tank that had cheap metal gems glued all over it. After yanking off her sweatshirt, she pulled the tank top on.
Ally sucked in a deep breath as her eyes widened at her sister. “What is wrong with you?”
Kylie glanced back as she stuck her neck into the small shirt. It hit her just above her belly button. “What do you mean?”
“What is that thing on your back?”
She rolled her eyes. “It’s called a tattoo.”
“Has Mom seen it?”
“Of course not. And you’d better not tell her. It’s my body, Ally, not hers. I can do what I want to it.”
<
br /> “Does that include starving yourself?”
Kylie slipped her boots on and started lacing them. “I’m not starving. I’m skinny. I like it. I look hot. Ask around.”
Ally shook her head. “I don’t need to ask around to know what you’re doing.”
Olivia threw a glare at Ally. “She’s allowed to have some fun. She’s not hurting anyone.”
Ally held Olivia’s gaze, then said softly, “What’s she doing to herself? What if she’s hurting herself and not just having some fun? How you two get along well enough to be roommates doesn’t make any sense. You both reside in polar extremes.”
Olivia and Kylie glanced at each other. Olivia shook her head at Ally. “We don’t judge each other, that’s how. We love each other, no matter what. Not all of us can be you, Ally McKinley, a straight A student, or always the loveable, cute girl that everyone wants to be friends with. The girl who has the appropriate number of dates and decent boyfriends. Not all of us can be you.”
“Thank God for that. The world couldn’t take much more of Ally-perfection,” Kylie muttered.
Ally threw her hairbrush at Kylie. She picked it up and eventually grinned. An unexpected knock on the door instantly had them all straightening up and staring towards it. The room was silent as Kylie jerked her head towards the door. “He’s here! Go let him in.”
Olivia rose onto her shaking legs, intensely aware of her cousins behind her and well beyond embarrassed now. She wished with all her heart she’d kept her mouth shut about everything. The kiss. The concert. Derek. He might not even think it was anything; and here she was, already talking about him like he meant something special to her.
He stood back a few steps from the door and Olivia kept it only half open so her prying cousins couldn’t totally see him. He wore dark jeans, a jacket and no hat. His dark hair was straight and flipped back off his forehead. His eyes stared at hers as he stepped towards her and kissed her lips. Their mouths fit perfectly. He was short for a guy, but she loved how easily and perfectly their bodies fit together. She was shocked when he kissed her hello, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. She swayed towards the heat of his body and his hand encircled her waist. When he lifted his mouth from hers, a small smile curled his lips up. “Hey.”
