Pretty Toxic - A New Adult Romance (Imperfectly Yours)
Page 12
“She’s not my girlfriend,” he says with disdain.
“I don’t know.” I gulp.
“I’ll prove it to you,” he continues. “She and I are finished.” He squeezes my hand and leans in close. He knows I can’t resist his soft whispers.
“I want you to come to my place tomorrow night for dinner.”
My stomach leaps. He’s insane.
“Are you crazy? Your parents would never allow-”
“Let me worry about that,” he cuts in. “Just be at my house tomorrow night at seven. Will you?”
I stare into his eyes which is probably a mistake.
“Okay,” I answer.
What the hell did I just agree to?
Chapter Thirty Five
“I wanted it to be perfect.”
I stand in front of the mirror for hours, unsure if the outfit I chose is good enough. I want something that says I’m hot, but not a slut and I’m not a silly little high school girl either. I smooth my wavy, baby blue top. It sinks low enough that it shows some cleavage but not too much. My cut-off jean shorts aren’t something I wear on a regular basis, but they fit just right. Probably because my appetite has been crap these days.
I study the sides of my legs. Not tan enough. Not enough muscle. Not nearly as long and entrancing as Paige’s legs. Maybe I should rethink this. I spin around again then run my fingers through my hair. I let Scarlett straighten it earlier with her new hair straightener. It took forever.
I glance at the time and my heart starts pounding. It’s time for me to go. I have to decide.
I shudder.
Why am I so nervous? He’s the one making it up to me. He’s the one who should be nervous. I stand with my shoulders back and force a smile. My third coat of lip gloss shines in the light.
My eyes definitely stand out. Another Scarlett project. I let her practice a neutral smoky eye on me. It turned out better than I thought it would.
I take a deep breath.
“Just relax,” I say to myself. “He invited you.”
And if anything goes wrong all I have to do is walk out the door. I’m not obligated to stay at all. I take a few more breaths until my heart slows down.
“Now I’m ready,” I say to the mirror. I turn and reach for the doorknob.
If one thing goes wrong, I’m leaving. I repeat in my head. Saying the phrase over and over again works for now. I know deep down that I most likely won’t live by it.
* * *
My stomach churns as I stand on Dane’s doorstep. I glance at the grand window next to the arched doorway. The window is framed perfectly with silk curtains. The size of that room was probably the size of my apartment. My chest starts to pound again. I can’t do or say anything to stop it this time.
I’m doomed.
The door opens after what feels like hours of waiting in the chill night air.
“Hey.” Danes smiles. His eyes look me up and down. “You look . . . amazing.”
“Thanks.” I smile back. I stare at his face and it calms my nerves. This won’t be so bad. I’m just exaggerating.
“Come in.” He opens the front door wider. It brings me back to the night Paige jokingly asked me to come inside as one of her party guests. That night feels like it was so long ago.
It wasn’t that long ago.
“Sure,” I gulp. The butterflies quickly return.
Dane shuts the door behind me. I try not to marvel too much at the front room. The antique furniture looks like it costs more than Aunt Scarlett makes in a year. There is a crystal vase with flowers on the center table in the foyer.
The flowers are perfect.
I look up at the vaulted ceilings. I’ve only just stepped inside and I already feel out of my element. Dane grabs my hand and leads me through the foyer and down a long hallway. We pass a study and another living area with French doors to the garden out back.
“Wait until you see this,” he chuckles. My tour ends in the kitchen, a room larger than our entire family room and kitchen combined. I place my hand on the shiny countertop.
“Wow,” I gasp.
“I know,” Dane replies. He doesn’t notice that my comment was directed at the kitchen’s decor. “I made dinner.” He grins, looking at a giant pot sitting on the stove.
I laugh.
“You mean you’ve never cooked before?”
“Uh,” he shakes his head. “No.”
I keep laughing.
“Alright,” he responds. “Yes I know it’s hilarious, but I’m learning now okay.”
“I’m sure it’ll be great,” I lie. “So, what are we having?” I take a step closer. He opens the pot and eagerly stares inside.
“Pasta,” he answers. “Pasta . . . something.”
I try not to wrinkle my nose when the smell hits me. It smells like burnt toast mixed with seafood. This is going to make me sick.
“Yum?” I improvise.
“Yeah I know,” he sighs. “I don’t really know what to think about it yet.”
“You haven’t tasted it?”
“No,” he responds. I roll my eyes. I can’t not. It’s habit.
“Well,” I giggle. “Go on. Taste it.”
“Only if you taste it with me.” He grabs two forks from a drawer and hands me one. I accept. The two of us reach into the pot and scoop out a bundle of noodles. The smell grows stronger. I already know I’ll hate it but Dane is eagerly watching.
“Okay,” I say. “Just a little bite.” Dane nods.
“On three. One. Two. Three.”
Against my stomach’s wishes I take a small bite of a dangling noodles. The taste slithers down my throat like a snake about to rip my insides apart. I cover my mouth. Dane keeps chewing, looking confused.
“Um . . . did you salt it?”
His eyes go wide.
“I knew I forgot something,” he mutters.
“And the shrimp,” I add. How long did you cook them before throwing them in?”
“Huh? Don’t they just cook when you throw them in with the noodles?”
I clutch my stomach and shake my head. Dane kicks the side of the cupboard.
“Hey, at least you tried.” I smile and take a step closer to him. He frowns.
“I wanted it to be perfect,” he says softly.
“It is perfect,” I laugh. “You cooked me dinner. And even though it . . .”
“Sucks,” Dane chimes in.
“You still cooked me something.”
He shrugs and puts down his fork.
“Sorry,” he chuckles, grabbing me around the waist. “But this means you get to pick the restaurant. So . . . where am I taking you tonight?”
I rest my hand on his shoulder. It feels good to be in his arms, even with the nasty smell of undercooked shrimp and soggy noodles.
“Ugh,” a voice comes from the doorway. “Smells like something died.” I turn and see Paige glaring back at me. I react by pulling myself away from Dane. A mischievous smile crosses her face.
“Paige,” Dane says, disappointed. “What are you doing here? I thought you were going out?”
“Change of plans,” she says lifting her chin. “Turns out my night is free.” His expression turns sour. “And I’m not eating that.” She puts her hands on her hips. “So where are you taking us?”
Chapter Thirty Six
“. . . I can’t stand the way Paige is looking at me.”
Paige can’t look at me like a normal person. She always has a smirk on her face. She thinks I’m a fool for falling for her brother. I know it. The glimmer in her eyes give it away. It makes me feel like an idiot.
I move uncomfortably in my chair.
“Nice place,” she grins. I can’t tell if she’s being serious or sarcastic. “You come here often?” She glances around at the restaurant’s decor. Aunt Scarlett and I have been coming here since I was little. The murals on the wall of the Italian country side weren’t chipping back then.
“I like it,” Danes says. I nod. Maybe a quiet little Ital
ian place with an all you can eat pizza buffet wasn’t the best idea. Scarlett mainly brought me here because it’s cheap.
“The garlic bread really isn’t that bad,” I add.
Dane waited in the car until I picked a restaurant. What else was I supposed to do?
A waiter approaches our table at the perfect moment. I’m running out of things to say and I can’t stand the way Paige is looking at me.
“You guys ready to order?”
“Yeah,” Dane nods. “It’ll be the sausage and tomato pizza for me.”
“Just a house salad,” Paige says quietly.
“Um.” I haven’t exactly decided yet. “The spaghetti I guess.”
The waiter nods and takes our menus.
“A whole bowl full of carbs,” Paige comments. She raises her eyebrows. “You must have a crazy metabolism.”
I try not to blush.
“Just because she doesn’t eat like a baby bird,” Dane mutters. Paige glares at him.
“Whatever.”
“So,” I sigh. “Where are your parents tonight?”
A moment of silence graces our table. Crap.
“I’ll answer that one,” Paige speaks up. She brushes her blond hair to the side. It reminds me of Mrs. Haskell. She gets the same exact look on her face. “Mom and Dad don’t do the whole normal family outing thing. They would have to actually like each other for that.”
Danes glares at her. I sit back and fold my arms. I’ve clearly opened a can of worms.
“Paige,” he says through his teeth. “Not now.”
“What?” She smirks. “If you insist on her being part of the family, there’s no use in hiding it.”
“Fine,” Dane surprisingly agrees. “Let’s start with you then and where you were last Thursday afternoon.”
She scowls.
“So Mikki.” Paige changes the subject. “I’ve seen you on campus before. What exactly are you studying?”
I cough to give myself time to think. Is this a trick question? You never can tell with Paige. Honestly, I’ve been thinking about law but I’m not sure that I want to be in school that long. I take a deep breath.
“Just generals for now,” I lie.
“Undecided,” she comments. “It seems like lots of kids our age are undecided.”
“Including you?” I ask.
“Especially her,” Dane chimes in.
“And you.” She glares at her brother. “Tell us, what are you planning on doing now that you’ve been kicked out of college?”
I turn and look at him. I’ve been wondering about that myself but Dane and I never get around to talking about things like that. There’s always too much drama going on. Paige raises her eyebrows.
“I’m still figuring that out,” he responds.
“Uh huh.” Paige sits up straighter and glances around the restaurant. “I came here once. Sophmore year.”
“Really?” I can’t see her in a place like this. Maybe someone forced her.
“Yeah,” she laughs. “Surprised?”
Hell yeah, as Zanna would say.
Our waiter appears and places a bowl of garlic bread in the middle of the table. I wait before I reach for one. Dane shrugs and takes a piece. I grab one as well. Paige eyes the bowl before repositioning herself in her chair and looking away.
“Come on,” Dane comments. “Try one.”
“No thanks,” she shakes her head.
“Forget that lame diet stuff and just try a piece.”
“Dane,” she scolds.
“Whatever,” he smirks. “You’re ridiculous, you know that.”
“Let it go,” I blurt out, placing a hand on his arm. I always hate it when Aunt Scarlett calls out my eating habits, especially in front of people. Some days food is the farthest thing from my mind. I glance over at Paige. She looks at me curiously, then leans closer to the table.
“So,” Paige clears her throat. “What are we doing after dinner?” She pauses and looks at Dane.
Chapter Thirty Seven
“How do I know I can trust you?”
“You’re joking,” Jemma raises her voice. The two of us are talking in the break room . . . again. I finished all my assignments for the day in two hours. I really need to stop doing that. The boredom in killing me. “You spent all night with Dane and his psychotic sister?”
“It was dinner and a movie.” I take a sip of tea. “Well sort of. We started watching a movie but ended up playing Texas hold ‘em instead. Paige insisted on taking all of Dane’s chips.”
Jemma’s eyes go wide. She grins and looks down at her steaming mug of coffee.
“Well,” she sighs. “All I’ve gotta say is watch out for yourself. Dane’s a hottie but his sister is another story. One wrong move and she’ll ruin you.”
What more can she possibly do?
I admit I was skeptical at first but Paige slowly warmed up to me. I barely noticed it until she hugged me at the end of the night. Dane just stared at her, not sure whether to be happy or upset. The night didn’t go the way I thought it would. Maybe that’s because neither Dane’s mom or dad showed their faces all night. I didn’t have the guts to ask about them again.
“Dane doesn’t seem to listen to her,” I comment. Jemma laughs.
“Dane doesn’t call the shots, hun.” She plays with the charm bracelet on her wrist. “Trust me.”
“How do you know so much?” Jemma’s history with the Haskells’ is still unclear. I know she used to be Paige’s friend once but that’s about it. She’s been a little hesitant to say any more.
“I just know,” Jemma replies.
“How long were you and Paige friends again?”
“Too long.” She sighs and looks away. “So when’s your next Haskell get together?” She quietly laughs to herself.
Dane mentioned doing something over the weekend. I was so thrilled things had gone well that I agreed to do whatever he wanted. I just hope I’m still lucky next time. My stomach goes sour again thinking about hanging around Paige. What if she’s playing some sick joke on me? Trying to get me to warm up to her so she can humiliate me in front of Dane.
I don’t want Jemma to be right.
“We should get back to our desks,” Jemma says quietly. “Before boss man has a cow.”
I follow her to the door. She grins and looks back.
“Of course you wouldn’t get in trouble . . . you’re sleeping with the owner’s son.”
* * *
“How was your day?” Aunt Scarlett asks. She insisted on picking me up from work today.
“Boring,” I respond. “If it weren’t for the paycheck I would have quit a long time ago. I’m not really learning anything.”
“Well . . .” She zooms around the corner and towards our apartment complex. “Some jobs are just like that. Why do you think I started my own business?”
“Because you kept getting fired,” I mutter. She partly smiles and tosses her shiny hair over her shoulder.
“That’s another good point.” She finally shows off a full smile followed by a laugh. I run my fingers through my hair. I wish my hair looked as shiny as hers. Sometimes it’s like her hair is glowing.
After five minutes of listening to the radio in silence, our front door comes into view. Scarlett looks ahead and slams on the brakes. My heart leaps. I look over at her. Her eyes are wide. She forces herself to keep driving forward. Her hands grip the steering wheel tightly.
A man is standing on our doorstep. He turns around and from a distance looks Aunt Scarlett in the eye. I can see her jaw clench.
“Um were you expecting someone?” Scarlett says firmly. The tone of her voice is completely different than it was minutes ago.
“No,” I respond. I take another look at the man. His face is strikingly familiar. My stomach churns. What is he doing here?
Mr. Haskell watches us pull into a parking spot. I hate looking him in the eye. I feel like he knows what I’m thinking. It reminds me of what happened at Bristlecone. I j
ust want to forget all that and move on. Why won’t he just let me move on?
“I’ll get him to leave,” Scarlett mutters before opening the car door. “Go straight into the house, okay.”
I nod.
The two of us get out of the car at the same time. I look down at Scarlett’s hands. They’re starting to shake but she quickly composes herself.
“What are you doing here, Matt?”
“You and I need to talk,” he responds. He glares at me. “This concerns the both of you.”
“Mikki,” Scarlett says. “Wait for me inside honey.”
I bite the side of my lip and reluctantly go inside. I close the door and run to the window. I can hear mumbling. I slowly open the window just a crack in hopes of hearing something.
Aunt Scarlett raises her voice.
“You can’t be serious,” I hear her say.
“Do as I say or she’ll pay for it, Scar. I know you don’t want that.”
“How do I know I can trust you?” she responds.
“I told you what happened,” he says quietly. I lean in closer. “I told you about the repercussions.”
“But-”
“This isn’t hypothetical,” he continues. “It’s all real this time. Very real.”
Scarlett sighs.
“Fine,” she agrees.
“I’ll see you tonight.” He nods at her and glances over at the open window. My heart feels like it has stopped beating. He raises an eyebrow before walking away.
Scarlett walks briskly into the house. I jump back from the window.
“What did he say?” I ask.
“Pack a bag,” she answers. Her cheeks are flaming red. “I guess we’re going on a little trip.”
Chapter Thirty Eight
“He wants me dead for what I saw.”
I could hardly sleep last night when Scarlett told me the news. I’ve been trying to pack all morning. Mr. Haskell somehow talked Aunt Scarlett into a spur of the moment cabin retreat. Strange. I tried to ask her more about it but she’s acting weird. My heart beats faster when I’m around her. I think she knows about Bristlecone. That has to be it. Why else would she agree to drive me up to the infamous Haskell beach house?