Imperfect Love: Cheeky (Kindle Worlds Novella)

by Natasha Madison

  We are both here waiting for our bags when her bag comes out first. It’s her bag that was lost in Columbia last week. “Assholes,” she says as she reaches to grab it. I laugh at the irony. We gather the rest of our luggage and head outside.

  We grab a cab together, stopping first at her place. We walk up to the door, and I’m surprised when it isn’t locked. Anyone can just go right in.

  “Is the door broken?” I ask, following her as she walks up a flight of stairs to the elevator.

  “Um, yeah. It’s been that way for a while.” She presses the button while I look back at the door. “I gave up complaining.” The elevator arrives with a creak.

  We finally make it to her door, and she unlocks it. She opens it up, letting herself and then me in. It’s the size of a shoebox. Actually, some shoeboxes are bigger than this.

  “Okay, just let me pack a bag, plus my computer, and then we can go. Have a seat,” she says before walking into her room.

  I look around and take in her apartment as I sit down on her tiny sofa. It may be small, but her decorating style makes the place feel cozy, like you wouldn’t mind curling up and staying for a while. Little touches of Lexi are all over. A throw blanket tossed over the couch, a television mounted on the wall, a collection of different sized picture frames scattered on the walls. I walk over and start looking at her pictures.

  I find one of us, well, with Sterling, that is. It was at our graduation party. She and Sterling are both looking at the camera, smiling huge. But me? My eyes are on Lexi. Even back then. I take the frame off the wall to look at it more closely. Lexi is in between Sterling and me. Sterling’s arm is around her shoulder, while mine rests on top of his. Lexi’s arm hangs between her and Sterling, but her other one is around my waist.

  “Ready.” She comes out of the room and walks up to me. “I love that picture.” Her fingers trace over us.

  “I want it,” I tell her. I want all of it. “Can I have this?”

  “Um.” Her eyes look surprised. “I can get you a copy if you want.”

  “Right, right, I’m sorry.” I shake my head. “This is yours.” I put it back on the wall. “All set?” I ask her, picking up the small bag that she packed. “Is that it?”

  “Yeah. I only packed for tonight.” She walks to the fridge and grabs a bottle of water.

  “Okay, let’s go.”

  We walk out of her building to the corner where I have an Uber waiting.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Lexi

  Walking into the room after my shower and finding him gone was a surprise. I kept thinking he’d be back, that he just ran downstairs for coffee or something. But finding all his stuff gone was a shock. Realizing that he left me here without saying goodbye was a stab to the heart.

  HE LEFT ME HERE.

  I text Melanie while I pack the new suitcase that I bought yesterday.

  What do you mean?

  I went to shower, and while I was in there he basically packed his shit and ran out without saying goodbye.

  STFU! Are you sure?

  Considering that I’m standing here in the room, he’s gone, and none of his things are here, I’m fucking sure.

  ASSHOLE!

  The phone rings in my hands. Melanie’s smiling face flashes across the screen.

  “Hey,” I say softly.

  “Are you okay?” she asks, even though we both know the question is rhetorical.

  I’m not okay, not in the least, not even a little bit. The tears I’ve been keeping at bay finally let loose.

  I don’t say a word and neither does Melanie. She just listens to me sniffle.

  “That motherfucker. I know where he lives,” she threatens. “The SPCA is giving away cats today. I can get a couple or ten and put them all in his apartment as a constant reminder of what a huge pussy he was!”

  “What did I expect?” I ask, sitting down on the bed that he just made love to me in not even an hour ago.

  This whole week, it felt like we were slowly becoming more. Well, at least I thought we were. But I guess that wasn’t the case for him. I guess I was just a convenient, warm body to fill his bed for the week.

  “You expected him to have the common fucking decency to not just take off on you without saying goodbye. Seriously, who does that?”

  I sit back because she’s on a roll now. I know this since she has started to yell.

  “I mean, hello, you used a butt plug for him! That’s not one-and-done activity! That says commitment! That in itself shows you care!” she lashes out angrily.

  I shake my head, laughing at this whole thing. Oh, the tears are still stinging my eyes, but Melanie is my best friend for a reason. She can make me smile during even the worst of situations, like right now for instance. “I have to go, or I’ll miss the plane.”

  “Want me to pick you up? We can kidnap him and take him to Jersey. Do him Sopranos style.”

  “No, thanks, Mel. I’ll call you when I get home, okay? Love you.”

  “Safe trip. Love you, too,” she says right before she disconnects.

  I shake the memory from my head as I look at the apartment building in front of me. It’s not a typical New York apartment building or brownstone. It’s a high rise. My neck gets sore just looking up at how high it goes.

  We walk to the front door where we are greeted by the doorman. “Good afternoon, Mr. Fitch. You’re back?” He walks ahead of us to the elevator and presses the button.

  “Hi, Harold. How are you?”

  Harold nods and smiles at us.

  “Lexi, this is Harold. Harold, this is my girlfriend, Lexi.”

  I smile at the man, taking the hand that he holds out for me to shake.

  Holy shit! He just labeled me as his girlfriend. I know the past week has been leading up to this, but I didn’t think about what would happen if we did take this step.

  He leads us up to his apartment, unlocking his door and ushering us inside. I walk in, stopping dead in my tracks, and whistle.

  “Okay, so you were actually slumming in Vegas then.” I walk farther into his apartment, taking in the far wall that is floor-to-ceiling windows. I look around, noting all the white, white everything. Everywhere. Sterile white, like a hospital, nothing inviting or welcoming, nothing warm or homey that says someone lives here.

  “It’s nothing,” he says, turning on some lights and ducking behind a wall that holds a huge ass kitchen, all stainless steel, and of course, white.

  “Do you actually cook in here?” I ask him, running my hand over the countertop, where there is not even a single fleck of dust.

  “Not yet. I’m more of a take-out kind of guy.” He smiles as he opens up his enormous, stainless steel, commercial refrigerator. “Want me to order something? Pizza?” He pulls open a drawer full of menus and fishes one out.

  “Oh, Chinese sounds good actually,” I tell him, taking the menu from him and giving him my order.

  Once he hangs up the phone, he walks over to me and says, “Come see the bed.”

  “Seriously? That’s the best you got?” I follow behind him down another hallway. There are two closed doors, one on my right and one on the left.

  “That’s the guest room and this is my home office.” He walks past them to the end of the hall where there are two more doors. “That one”—he points to the open door—“is the bathroom and this”—he opens the door—“is where the magic happens. Well, where it will happen.”

  I follow him into what can only be described as a dream room. The floor-to-ceiling windows showcase a view of the New York City skyline as well as the Brooklyn Bridge. The bed sits in the middle of the room angled toward the corner of the windows. The room is decked out in rich browns and light blue. They are definitely bachelor colors, but they’re warm and inviting. I bounce on the bed, and it’s almost like sinking into a cloud. I fall back on it, moaning.

  “Told you, magic,” he says, dropping my bag in a walk-in closet that is to the right of the bathroom across from his walk-i
n closet.

  I lean against the closet door, watching him putting away his things. “I think this right here is the same size as my whole apartment.”

  He throws most of his clothes in the basket in the corner.

  “I’m taking it that you don’t do your laundry, either?”

  The front door buzzer stops him from answering my question. “Love, the food is here.” He walks out to the front door while I go into the kitchen and get out some plates. His kitchen is a chef’s wet dream.

  His plates make me smile. They’re blue. I shake my head, laughing at him. This is him. There are little pieces of him here and there.

  I walk into the living room area. “Where do you usually eat?” I ask him, assuming he uses his dining room.

  “On the couch.” He points to the living room.

  “Okay, so how about we actually sit at a table to eat?” I smirk at him. “We can sit and talk.”

  “Sure, anything you want.” Just like that, he gives in.

  “Perfect.” I carry the plates to the table while he carries over the food, and then he goes back into the kitchen to get us some wine.

  We both serve ourselves a bit of everything, “So, um. You called me your girlfriend.” I come right out with it.

  He nods his head while he digs into his chicken and broccoli.

  “So, are we calling you my boyfriend?” I ask him, looking down at my plate, pushing the food around, suddenly not hungry.

  “I fucking hope so.” He puts more food into his mouth.

  “What about my brother?”

  His fork stops midway to his mouth as he looks at me.

  “Yeah, the big elephant in the room.” I point out to him.

  “I have no idea.” He sighs, then starts talking. “I mean, I don’t want to keep us a secret from him, but I don’t want to jump in...” he trails off.

  “I agree. I don’t want to be a secret either, but I think we should just wait and see if this thing is going to work.” I stutter, “I mean, we know that we”—I motion between the two of us—“are good on vacation. Obviously, we’re sexually compatible given how fantastic our sex life is.”

  “It is,” he cuts in, looking at me as he leans back in his chair. “The best I’ve ever had.”

  I smile at him, shrugging my shoulder. “What can I say? I had a great partner.”

  He grabs my hand and pulls me out of my chair and over to him. I straddle him in his chair. “We’ll do this slowly.” He kisses my chest. “We play it by ear. Let’s just get to know each other, try this out between me and you, and when we’re ready, then we’ll tell Sterling.”

  I nod my head at him. “We are going to make sure he’s drunk first, right?” I look at him. “You know, when we finally do tell him that we are together.”

  “We can ply him with drinks, yes.” A kiss lands on my cheek. “Now, let’s go shower. I have to be up at six-thirty.”

  I climb off him and start clearing the things off the table. “Does that mean I have to leave at that time? Because I start at ten tomorrow.”

  He puts the containers back in the bag, carrying it to the kitchen. “No, you don’t have to leave until you’re ready to go.” He turns off the lights in the kitchen.

  He heads straight to the shower and starts the water as I unload my bag of toiletries. I take out my phone and set my alarm. I take a shower while he shaves and does his man things.

  I get out of the shower and start moisturizing while he kisses me and walks out into the bedroom. I put on some shorts and a tank top and walk out, shutting the lights off behind me.

  Bradley is sitting in bed watching television. I flip the sheet to get into the bed when he asks, “What the hell are you doing?” His question surprises me.

  “What do you mean?” I’m confused and starting to look around.

  “Are you wearing that to bed?” he asks while he points to my pajamas.

  “I was planning on it,” I tell him as I get in the bed.

  “Naked,” he says, till I look at him. “The only thing on you when you climb into my bed is me, love.”

  I laugh out loud. “No. I only sleep naked on vacation. I wear pajamas at home.”

  I don’t even have a chance to argue with him because in two seconds flat he has me completely naked and he’s sliding into me.

  “This is why you come to bed naked. Easy access.”

  I don’t reply. I just lock my legs around him and let him take me.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Bradley

  It’s been three weeks since we got back from Vegas, and I’m still floating on cloud nine. I couldn’t be happier. Well, not at this minute. It’s two a.m., and I’m walking around my apartment like a lost puppy.

  It’s the first day that Lexi isn’t here. She’s been here every night since, but she went out with Melanie tonight and said it would be easier to just sleep at her place. Of course, I didn’t want to be a pansy ass and tell her she had to come back to my house, so I agreed.

  Idiot. You would think we’ve been together since I was born with the way I reach out for her. I tossed and turned since she called me and told me she was home. I even took her pillow to sleep on so I can smell her, and nothing.

  So here I am, putting my joggers on to go over and sleep with her at her house. I already called down and asked them to have a cab waiting for me.

  Walking up to her apartment, I’m pissed that the front door is still broken. I shake my head as I make my way up the stairs to her door. When I get there, I knock softly twice.

  I don’t hear anything, so I knock again and this time I hear her locks open. She is standing there in a large shirt with bare legs. Her one eye is squinting. “What the hell, Lexi?” I say, walking into her apartment. “You didn’t even ask who was there.”

  She closes the door and turns to me. “It’s called a peephole for a reason. You peep through the hole and see who’s on the other side,” she says, pushing past me to walk back to her bed. “What are you doing here, anyway?”

  “I, um,” I start to say as I quickly undress myself and slide into bed behind her. “I couldn’t sleep,” I tell her, gathering her in my arms. I stop to yank the shirt off her and then resettle us. I make a mental note to throw out all her pajamas.

  “Are you done?” she asks me as I get us covered back up and spooning.

  “Almost, give me a kiss goodnight.”

  She turns to kiss me on my lips.

  “Good night, Fitch,” she says and slowly falls back asleep.

  I don’t fall asleep that easily, only because her bed is a twin. Okay, maybe a double. But, Jesus, I think my feet are hanging off the bottom.

  “Go to sleep, Fitch.” She knows I’m still up, so I chuckle to myself and then fall into a slumber.

  The next day I’m dragging ass. I was so tired that I went home at noon and am now working in my home office when the buzzer sounds. I look at the clock and notice that it is almost seven. I get up to answer the door. I’m shocked when I open it and see who’s standing there. Sterling.

  “There’s the wanker,” he says as he charges at me. “It’s been a month, and we keep putting it off, so I decided no more.” I’m still in shock I think because I haven’t moved. “I hope it’s okay?” he says, looking around.

  I shake my head. “Yeah, yeah, of course. It’s fine,” I tell him, closing the door and my eyes.

  He walks straight to the kitchen, putting down the six pack of beer he was carrying that I didn’t even see. He notices the flowers in the middle of the counter, the ones I brought home two days ago just because. “Holy shit! You’re in love,” he spits out, looking at me. “Flowers and in a vase. Is she here?” He looks over my shoulder.

  “Ummm. No, no, she isn’t,” I say, grabbing a beer, opening it, and taking a very long pull.

  “You little fucker, you, why didn’t you tell me?” he asks while he sits on a stool at the counter, opening his own beer.

  “It’s new. We just started, so I didn’t wan
t to say anything.” I take another sip.

  “You like her.” He points to me with his beer bottle. “A lot. I can tell, you’re all nervous and shit. Where did you meet her?”

  “I’ve known her for a while, but things just started to come together,” I tell him, and it’s not a lie.

  “Cool. Did she transfer here with you?” he continues his questions.

  “No, not with me, but she does come from back home, but she was here before me.” Again, not a lie.

  “You dirty dog, you. I didn’t think I’d ever see the day that Scratch-the-itch-and-ditch Fitch would be smitten with anyone.”

  I laugh at him and that stupid nickname I got. Okay, I dated a lot. I mean, had a lot of sex.

  “What does she do? Does she work with you?” The questions just keep coming.

  “She’s in interior design,” I say to him and then sit next to him on the stool. “So how are things with you?”

  He’s about to answer when we both hear a voice entering the apartment.

  “I came to do your dusting!”

  My eyes almost pop out of my head when I turn and see Lexi walking in wearing a French maid’s uniform. Her tits are exposed, just the black underwire running beneath them, propping them up. She is wearing a little apron, and when I say little, I mean miniscule. It hides nothing because her pussy is also on display. The only thing that is covered are her legs—with black garters and thigh high boots. A feather duster is in one hand.

  She sees Sterling sitting next to me and yells at the top of her lungs, throwing the duster in the air, while she throws one hand over her tits and another over her pussy.

  “What the fuck?” Sterling roars from next to me, but I’m already jumping out of my seat to go and cover Lexi with my body. I stand in front of her while she grabs onto my T-shirt and tries to hide behind me.

  I stick out my hand at Sterling. “This isn’t what it looks like!” Lexi moans from behind me. “Okay, so maybe it is, but it’s not as bad as you’re thinking. I can explain.”

  The stool flies back and he gets up. “You can explain?” he yells at me. “How can you explain the fact that my baby sister is standing behind you naked? That she came here to dust for you?”