by Sunniva Dee
“Yes, no more make-out sessions.”
“Ha, he could’ve lost his job over you, I bet.”
“Yeah, I suck.”
I press the “End Call” button for much longer than needed. It’s week ten of the semester and my life freaking blows. The midterm results for my classes came in today, and I took all Ds and Fs.
I burrow my head under the pillow and growl into the sheets.
“Wifey.” Mica’s nickname for me sounds so sweet, so… Good ol’ days. She removes my pillow to peer down at me. “You’ll be okay.”
“You don’t understand,” I muffle out. “I had to sign the FERPA form to move here, Mica. My parents got my grades before I did.”
“Uh, FERPA? How can they—”
“Because they fucking called the registrar’s office before I even checked my email!” Crap, Mica is so innocent in this. She doesn’t deserve my rage. I was the one who signed away my right to privacy. As it stands, Mom and Dad can learn everything—everything—about my classes, my grades, my teachers, my financial situation.
Everything.
I stifle a sob.
“Damn, Pan.” Mica’s small, strong hand runs over my back, and it’s soothing and heartbreaking at once.
“Mica, ah. I’m sorry. So not your fault.”
“Shhh, it’s okay. Destiny?” She lowers into a whisper, and Destiny shuffles into my room as well.
“Here. Made you hot chocolate, sweetie,” Destiny says. I sit up, drying my nose.
“I so don’t deserve you guys.”
“Right?” Mica bobs her head, pinning me with exaggerated doe eyes to make me laugh. She seems appeased by the slight grimace I muster.
“What did your parents say?”
I send Destiny a glance. The apartment is my father’s. What happens to me affects all of them, and sometimes I forget that my friends moved here because of me. None of them come from affluent families, and the reason they can live in Deepsilver at all is the minimal rent they pay to Dad.
I put on a brave face. No reason to have more of a meltdown than I’ve already had. “Long or short story?”
“Whatever works for you,” Destiny says, while Mica shouts “Short!”
“Dad’s setting up phone appointments with my teachers. In two weeks, if I’m not doing better, he’s taking a leave of absence from work. He’ll bring Mom to personally oversee my studies.”
My cheeks burn with embarrassment.
No one speaks until Shannon interrupts the stunned silence.
“No effing way. Your dad, Pandora, needs to get a life!”
Destiny’s eyes meet mine. The distress flickering in the dark depths makes me swallow. I know what she’s about to say.
“I don’t know what to do if he makes us move.”
Pandora’s on my bench again. The smooth silk of her skin rises in goose bumps under my fingertips as I plow against it.
She moans when I press deep into one of her intraspinatus fascias. Right below the shoulder blade and up toward the spine. As always, I crave her. I want her to turn around. Whenever I work on her, I’m painfully hard, and that breathless sigh brings me straight back to her bed.
“You’re tight,” I tell her.
“Stress.”
“Grades?”
“Yeah.”
“Mommy Dearest being an ass about it?”
“And my dad.”
“Shouldn’t you be cutting the ties? I mean, you’re an adult, babe.”
She shifts on the table, and I scrunch my eyes shut momentarily, thinking she might roll over. It’s for the best when she doesn’t.
“Yeah. It’s a bit of a catch twenty-two as they say.” She lets out a dry laugh. “They pay for the apartment for all of us. Tuition. Everything. I’d have to be on student loans.”
“Well, most people are.”
I wonder if she heard me, because she just lies still, leaving me to work on her. Finally, she replies.
“My girls—they’re nice about it, but they’re so worried about losing the apartment. If only I managed to pass my classes.”
Tonight, she’s at the club. She doesn’t acknowledge me at all. No “hi,” no smile, and it’s sort of a stab in the gut actually.
Leon has returned too from his stint at the sister club he’s been focused on a couple of towns over. He’s watching her like a wolf from his favorite perch by the D.J. booth. Dude’s got his arms crossed, thigh bouncing with impatience. Bad sign that he doesn’t have an adoring female attached to him either.
Fuck.
“Shannon,” I say, leaning toward Pandora’s friend so she can hear me over the music. “How is she? Besides getting drunk fast?”
Shannon shakes her head. “Not so good right now.” She moves on to repeating things I know. Her grades, parents. Only I wasn’t aware that her dad might yank her out of school if she doesn’t get her shit together.
Pandora’s on the counter again, dancing, and she throws her hair back in a golden cascade. She overextends backward into a bridge, and I react on instinct.
“Enough!” I shout. She can’t hear me from where I’m standing, so I shoulder through the line, seize her, and haul her off the bar. In five seconds flat, I’ve got her in my arms and caged in the corner where the wall meets the counter.
Pandora just destroyed her back. She might be too drunk to notice, but tomorrow she’ll be paralyzed with pain. I should have seen this coming. I would’ve prevented it from happening.
“You need to stop endangering yourself,” I yell inches from her face.
Pandora’s features morph from surprise to outrage. She stretches up on her toes, her stare boring switchblades into me. “Don’t you dare, Dominic.”
“Just fucking quit jeopardizing yourself!”
“Oh, really—says who? My boss? My freaking master?”
“Yeah, well, you need one!” I don’t know what I’m saying, I’m so furious.
“You’re so clueless, Dominic.” Pandora jerks free and scrambles to get back up on the counter. I’m stronger, though. I rip her off the barstool, and the sensation of her struggling against me is—
Not something I should enjoy.
“No, I am not clueless. You need this. Me!” I growl through my teeth.
She’s hissing at me, and it’s disturbing. Fucking hot.
“I don’t need you! Let me go.”
“You can’t keep—”
“Don’t be so overprotective!”
I’m pushing her against the bar. She’s not listening, dammit. Fuck—
Christian stalks around the counter and clamps a hand down on my shoulder. “Dominic, take it down a notch.”
God knows how much longer she’d have stayed bowed into a bridge up there if I hadn’t grabbed her. What else had she planned to do to herself? Skydive from the club’s terrace?
“Stop hurting yourself,” I growl through my teeth, fighting to control this anger she’s ignited. I clench her arms tight and shove myself into her body.
“I’m not, ah—Dominic, I’m fine!”
“Don’t. Say. That.” My jaw clenches through the demand. It’s so hard to remain collected when Pandora shakes her head in disagreement, opening that delicious mouth to refute me—yet again!
“You are hurt.”
I can’t have her disagree again. I am frustrated—this girl can’t take care of herself, goddammit! Shocked stares hit me as my fingers dig into her flesh and shake the sweet body I adore against the wooden panel.
“Please,” she says, her voice smooth, silky, soft, but her next words dump gunpowder on my rage: “I promise you. I’m not in pain.”
I am dynamite.
I detonate.
I explode.
“I know your body better than you do!”
“Dominic.” Christian’s warning is the last one I’ll get. With both fists firm on my shoulders, he’s ready to rip me off of her. Call the bouncers.
Pandora stills, green eyes frozen in mine. I stop rattling
her, loosen my hold as I realize that for once I’m more out of control than she is. Even so, I can’t let go.
The muscles in this tense, stubborn little body slowly loosen. We breathe together, the length of my legs, my hips, my chest resting against Pandora’s, because I still need to keep her safe. The pulse throbbing in my veins eases gradually when she meets my gaze in surrender.
Christian’s hand slaps my shoulder once and disappears.
“Babe.” I sound tired. I am tired. It’s been a long, long week. My thumbs slide up along her temples, smoothing her hair back toward her ears.
Just a quick kiss, I think, aware of how futile this is. It’s me not thinking of the future again, just living in the moment the way I can’t afford to do.
My fingers travel down her cheekbones, framing her lips, tipping her face up a little.
I stare at her mouth. Remember it red and swollen after a whole night together. I swallow. Then, I glide my tongue over her lower lip and suck it into my mouth. Not a sound escapes Pandora as we kiss. She’s pliable in my arms, so delicious.
My phone buzzes in my pocket. It’s two in the morning. I pull in a deep breath. Come to my senses.
Sometimes, I wish I wasn’t me.
I drop her, dig my phone out, and push out of the club.
“Sorry,” he mumbles.
I see Dominic’s back move away from me and get swallowed by the crowd as he shoves through to the exit. Between what just happened, my drunken state, and the thumping music, I’m dazed.
Where’s he going?
“Are you all right?” Leon’s rich voice hums at my ear. When I turn, he’s standing next to me, his forearm supporting his weight on the counter. “I tried to get here earlier—” He waves a hand at the packed room, and I know what he means.
Dominic didn’t even say goodbye.
“It’s okay—I’m fine.”
Leon stares down at people. I’m a head shorter than him, but he still carries his chin tilted upward in the subtlest way while he studies me. The always-erect posture adds to the general impression of sexy arrogance.
Leon’s eyes flicker over my face, studying me. His expression doesn’t betray his findings. “You know him well?”
I nod but feel the urge to explain. “Yeah, although we’re not dating.”
“He shouldn’t have done that if you’re not his.”
Leon has a strange way of expressing himself. I look up, and for a moment, I can’t move. His eyes, a hazy sapphire, contrast with the creamy tan of his skin. The two don’t match up. Sure, I’ve noticed his intensity before, it’s hard not to, but he’s so close and he is focused! Now that I meet his gaze, he has me trapped.
“Um.” I’m a toad croaking stuff out.
Christian deserts a customer to hunch over the counter. “Boss, she’s Shannon’s friend, and—”
“I know who she is. Pandora.” My name sounds ridiculously pretty with Leon playing with it, swirling the vowels and consonants in his mouth.
“Give her another of whatever she’s having. And some water.”
Christian works quickly. Scoops up ice and jets the beverage into a glass.
“Bottled, Christian. VOSS.”
“Right, one sec.”
I wonder if I’m expected to pay for this. I’m done drinking alcohol for the night, though, I realize. Leon relieves Christian of the designer water and hands it to me. As I take a sip, he watches a stray twirl of hair sneak in front of my nose before tucking it behind my ear.
“I don’t know why Dominic left,” I think out loud.
“Hush, don’t worry about it.”
I take another swig, considering the phone I’ve got in my pocket. I can call him. Although I’m supposed to leave him alone. Not disturb him anymore.
Perfect Dominic.
I laugh, and a hint of curiosity colors Leon’s gaze. “What’s so funny?” he asks.
“Just him. The guy who kissed me,” I start.
Leon waits for me to continue.
“He’s so perfect. I’m a total deadbeat and he’s, like…”
“Pandora.” Shannon’s at my side, tugging at my arm. “Let’s go to the ladies’ room.”
“Nope, I’m talking with Leon. Go on—you tell him how perfect Dominic is, and how I’m not!” Woozy and amused, I slap my hands together at the irony.
“Fuck ‘perfect,’” Leon says, and it’s hot and different and it makes my stomach bounce.
“Christian?” Shannon shouts for him to hear her. “Pandora and I are leaving. Call a taxi.”
I’m groggy, my head is pounding, and I want to throw up. In addition to the physical discomfort, the guilt from procrastinating on homework churns until I can’t lie still any longer.
Even with Destiny trying to shake me awake in the mornings, the only days I manage to get up early is when I have a hangover.
Today, though, once I’m out of the shower, I’ll start fresh. I swear I’m studying. And the subjects are easy too, I remind myself. Again.
I wonder if any of the messages lighting up my phone are from Dominic.
Shannon’s voice carries from the living room. “Yes, but why didn’t you come up with something? Like say you don’t know where she lives? You’re the one who insists she should run for cover when it comes to him.”
“Ah, Shannon—you’re real frustrating sometimes. He wouldn’t have believed me. I practically live here, and he knows you’re roommates. Smother is my livelihood. I won’t jeopardize my job to try and stall something that’s going to happen either way. You talk with her.”
“Me?” Shannon mocks. “Like that does any good.”
“What do you want me to say?”
No need to be a genius to get the gist of this; Leon must have asked where I live. A flutter of nerves rises and sinks in me as I wonder about Leon’s plans.
My thoughts drift back to the club last night. I’d been doing a great job of ignoring Dominic. I had an awesome time too, dancing, staying out of trouble and out of Dominic’s life.
Still, whenever we’re both at Smother, I sense him watching me. Last night was no different, and he’d been in his regular seat over by the bend of the bar. Illuminated by dim overhead lights, he dipped into his glass with eyes trained on me.
But then I crossed some unknown line he’d set in his head, so he shot over, ripped me off the counter, yelled at me, and freaking kissed me.
I’m weak. So weak. I should have kept fighting instead of absorbing his kisses like a cat in heat. I crush the sudden realization that he would have been in my bed right now if he hadn’t left.
My phone flashes white again over at my desk. Most of the messages are from my mom, I’m sure, but Dominic has my number.
I hope he’s okay.
I hope he’s got a damn good reason for dropping me like a fucking—
No. I’m an idiot, because this is what I want, to not screw with his life. I did well last night until he grabbed me.
Even so, in the murky recesses of my heart, my ego is hiding. It’s hurt and hissing. There are other fish in the sea. Less perfect guys to hang with.
I move to sit up, and a searing jolt shoots up my spine. The yelp I emit sounds like a wounded animal’s, but I choke on it when the agony floods my entire body.
Please, no. Not today. I have to study!
I need the pain meds, but I can’t move. I can’t utter the sounds I need to call for help. Water pools in my eyes as I try to remain frozen on the mattress. The slightest movement is enough to drive me insane.
Please, God. Please!
At the corner of my eye, the door creaks open, and Shannon’s voice reaches me. “Was that you, Pan? Are you okay?”
A smothered sob escapes me at her question, and in two leaps she’s at my side.
“Scheuermann?”
“Yeah,” I whisper. “It’s bad this time.”
“Damn it, Pandora—that human bridge stunt you pulled yesterday? Dominic was right.”
If I weren’
t in agony, I’d be mad at her for stating the obvious. I hear the drawer of my nightstand open, my meds rattling inside. Then she holds a handful of bottles up in front of me.
I can’t talk anymore because I’m hurting, hurting, so I point instead, and she shakes out two pills as the label recommends. “Here, water. I’m calling Dominic,” she says.
“Don’t.”
“No, Pandora, don’t even start with me. He always fixes you, and he’ll definitely want to come today.”
“I…”
And suddenly I’m not so noble anymore. Suddenly I don’t care as long as he’s here, as long as he helps me, because I can’t take this even for a moment. I’m dying.
“Ah…” I strangle my gasp before I surrender. “Yeah, okay.” Just the thought of his skilled hands searching over my back, finding, healing, makes me want to cry with relief.
I can stay away from him later.
Frozen on my back with eyes closed, I wait, wait, while he takes forever to pick up Shannon’s call. She paces as she talks, her voice low and concerned. She fades into the kitchen, but I still catch her telling him how I’m worse than she’s ever seen me before.
Soon, the medicine dulls my pain into a clammy sheet that stretches from my shoulders to my knees. Through the onslaught of drowsiness, I know it—I know. Then, I allow myself to think it.
Dominic. I need you.
The phone goes to my ear as I shove my way out of Smother. “Yeah,” I bark to Alan. “What’s happening?”
He doesn’t bother with small talk either. “Your grandma thought she had to work again. At the gas station.”
“When? Now?”
“Time zones, Dominic, of course now. She used to clean the mini-mart at night in the olden days, remember?”
I scrub my face with one hand as I stride to the car. “The owner call you or something?”
“Yes.” A short snicker escapes Alan before he continues. “The girl on night shift alerted him to an old lady rummaging through the bucket closet.”
Fuck, I hate when he finds stuff related to Grandma’s situation funny. Bad sign that the owner had my uncle’s phone number too. I’m starting to believe what Alan told me a week ago, about Grandma doing this exact thing. According to him, she’d had time to clean the whole place before the owner arrived, and the attendant on duty hadn’t even thought twice about the “new” cleaning lady. Asshole. I press two fingers around the bridge of my nose until I see golden speckles.
