by J. Daniels
We left it at that.
Chapter Nine
Shayla
It was Friday night, and I had a major hankering for pizza.
Though, if I was being honest, I knew it wasn’t just the hankering that had me suggesting the idea to the boys after Eli and I picked Dominic up after his math tutoring.
Pizza wasn’t just delicious and a huge hit with my brothers, especially pizza from Frank’s, who killed it in the crust game. Pizza was also a portable food, and I needed a portable food if I was going to surprise Sean with dinner.
He had helped me out in a major way this week. Not only were the boys’ afterschool activities covered without a hitch, thanks to Sean taking Eli for me while I took care of Dom and vice versa, but Dominic had gone over Sean’s house several days to continue working out his anger, and now he was damn near pleasant to be around.
And Sean was to thank for that.
I wanted to do something unexpected for him. What better way was there than showing up with a couple pies from Frank’s, some ice-cold beverages, and fresh treats from Duck Donuts?
After confirming with Tori that Sean was not at work and getting affirmative yeses on the pizza and donut plan from the boys, I called in our order and drove us to Frank’s.
“Wait here. I’ll just be a minute,” I told my brothers, leaving the car running and getting out after grabbing money out of my bag.
I headed inside the small pizza shop, which didn’t look like much on the outside, but looks were deceiving. Everyone knew Frank’s Pizza kicked ass. And since it was Friday night and everyone knew Frank’s Pizza kicked ass, the place was mobbed.
After checking on my order and being told it would be another minute, I squeezed between the carryout crowd and stood toward the back so I wouldn’t block people coming up to the register.
I was thinking about which donuts we should order when I felt a gentle tapping on the back of my leg.
Looking over my shoulder, I saw a little girl with golden-blonde pigtails smiling up at me. She couldn’t have been much older than five, and she had on more pink than I’d ever seen in my entire life.
“Hi,” I said.
“Hi,” she returned in the sweetest little voice. “I like your hair.”
“Oh, well, thank you very much.” How stinking cute was she? “I like your hair. And your shoes. Those are so pretty.”
She smiled up at me and toed one of her pink, glittered ballet flats.
“Caroline,” a woman said, rushing over with a smaller child in her arms, this one also a girl with golden-blonde pigtails. “Sorry.” She gave me an apologetic smile. “She gravitates toward pink. In case you didn’t pick up on that.”
“That’s okay. She wasn’t bothering me.”
The woman, who I’d guess was in her mid to late twenties, had blonde hair like the two girls. She was pretty, with small, delicate features, sapphire eyes, and a brilliant smile. And she had killer taste in clothes. She was wearing a camo jacket and black tattered skinny jeans tucked into combat boots.
“I love the pink,” she said, pointing at my hair, then adjusted the child on her hip. “That’s really cool.”
“Thanks. I like playing around. Habits of a stylist, I guess.”
“Oh, you did that yourself?”
I nodded, smiling.
“So, you do hair?”
“Yep.”
“In Dogwood? Which salon are you at?”
“I’m actually working out of my apartment right now. I’m starting my own business.”
“Oh, that’s cool! Good for you.”
“Thank you.” My chest warmed with pride.
The woman pulled her hair over one shoulder and winced as she played with the ends. “I need to get my hair done so bad,” she said. “The girl I was going to moved three months ago, and I’m terrible about just going somewhere and trying someone new. I’m nervous I’ll end up with—”
“Pink hair,” I cut in, smiling at her.
She chuckled. “A girlfriend of mine had a terrible experience once.”
“Oh, well, I wouldn’t give you pink hair,” I told her. “Unless you asked for it.”
“I’m sure someone would love that.” She looked down at the little girl playing peekaboo behind her leg.
“Seriously, though, if you’re looking to get your hair done, I could totally hook you up. First haircuts are free. And I have a variety of colors. Not just pink.” I winked at the little princess. She totally looked like a princess in all that pink.
“Really? Okay. Yeah, that would be great.”
“Awesome! Let me just…” I looked around me, then, spotting the menus up at the counter, I excused myself and slipped up front, snagged a pen and scribbled down my info. “Here. That’s my cell. Just call or text me, and I’ll get you in.” I handed her the menu.
“Thanks. I’m actually really looking forward to this.”
“Me too! I’m Shay, by the way. Guess I should mention that.”
She giggled. “That’s okay. I’m Valerie. And these are my girls, Caroline”—she touched the princess on the head, then bounced the child on her hip—“and Fiona.”
I waved at Caroline, then put my attention on Fiona, who looked close in age to her sister.
“Hi, pretty girl. Do you like pink too?” I asked.
Fiona nodded slowly, then buried her face in her mother’s neck.
“She’s my shy one,” Valerie explained.
“Shay! Order to go!” the man at the counter called out.
“That’s me,” I said. “So, yeah, just hit me up, and I’ll totally make all your hair fall out.”
Her eyes went wide.
“Kidding! Kidding.”
I waited for her to laugh before I moved away, waving back at them, then I stepped up to the counter and informed the man who wasn’t Frank—I’d checked—how much I loved Frank’s Pizza as I paid for the two pies.
Not only was their crust game on point, but they served patrons with amazing taste in picking a stylist.
Next stop was Duck Donuts.
The boys went inside with me this time so they could pick out their selections. After some debate, we settled on a variety of glazes, toppings, and drizzles to make up our dozen.
I had no idea what Sean would like, so I wanted to cover my bases.
Then Dominic directed me to Sean’s house.
I knew the place needed a lot of work and, according to Dominic, it was small, but I could immediately see it had potential. It was on a nice chunk of land, it was decent sized—not big, but I wouldn’t say small; average was more like it. It had a cute little wraparound porch and landscape that was overgrown now, but had a good foundation you could build on if you took the time, thanks to the rose bushes and scalloped brick work. Plus, it was close enough to the beach you could make an easy walk out of it, which was huge.
Hold the phone. This was practically oceanfront.
“Nice. I like it,” I commented after pulling up along the front of the house and parking near the mailbox. “E, can you grab the sodas, buddy?”
“Yep!” Eli was almost as excited as I was to be delivering this surprise. He really liked Sean.
Dominic had the donuts, so I grabbed the two pizza boxes off the back seat and shut the door with my hip.
“It’s cool, Eli. Wait ’til you see out back. He’s got a tire swing up,” Dominic said, he and Eli walking ahead of me.
Huh. Why would a single guy need a tire swing? Maybe it had been left by the previous owner.
Both Sean’s bike and his truck were in the driveway—a good sign he was home. As I got a close look at his truck for the first time, I saw a half-peeled-away smiley face sticker on the rusty bumper and realized I had seen his truck before.
“Holeey shit,” I breathed, stopping in the grass. He’d paid for my tacos that day. Sean was the guy. The good deed, doing something for nothing, guy.
And he hadn’t said a word to me about it.
I felt my mouth
curl up in the corner. He just couldn’t stop surprising me, could he?
I was beginning to suspect Sean was the most unexpected man in the history of unexpected men. He never wanted anything in return for his actions. He never assumed or anticipated acknowledgment.
He was simply…good.
He was a good man.
“Shay, you coming?” Dominic called out.
I turned away from the truck and saw the boys waiting for me on the porch.
“Yep! Just admiring,” I explained, which wasn’t a lie. I was admiring, I just wasn’t admiring a vehicle. I was admiring the man who owned it.
Stepping up onto the porch, I balanced the pizza boxes on my forearm so I could knock on the door. I could hear drilling, which stopped the second time I knocked after my first went unnoticed. Then a few seconds later, the door swung open.
Sean stood there wearing his faded jeans and nothing else.
I’m going to repeat that for emphasis—Sean stood there wearing his faded jeans and nothing else.
His hair was tied back. He was barefoot. His chest was on display. His hip bones were jutting out nicely. He had fuzz running from his navel to below, and his skin had a light sheen of sweat to it, which was basically the equivalent to icing on a cupcake—the finishing touch that really set off the whole package.
These factors, plus others, considering how low his jeans were hanging, had me scrambling to hold those pizza boxes with both hands, for fear I might drop them.
I had never seen Sean without a shirt on before. I figured he had ink on other parts of his body, not just his arms, and he did. His chest was covered in tattoos, as were his shoulders and his ribs, colorful designs that looked to be random, but I was betting they weren’t. His abdominals were bare, which, even though I had a major thing for body ink, I was grateful for, considering what his abdominals looked like.
Hell, what all of him looked like.
Sean had a body like an Olympian. Like one of those track runners who still had the sculpted upper torso. He wasn’t bulky, but the muscles he did have were so finely cut with perfection, you’d think it was God himself who touched Sean after uttering the phrase Let there be light, plus gorgeous male physiques.
He was solid. Nothing but taut skin and power underneath.
My eyes lingered on his upper arms, the muscles there, and the ink decorating him. I squinted to study it.
Were those stick figure people?
“S-Surprise!” Eli yelled from behind me.
Startled, I snapped my gaze off Sean’s body and looked up. “Hey! Uh, yeah, surprise! Hope you didn’t eat yet.”
Sean looked at the boxes in my hand. “Frank’s,” he muttered, smiling a little. “They got good crust.”
I sighed. God, he was just perfect.
“And Duck Donuts,” I pointed out. “Nobody beats Duck.”
“I got the s-soda!” Eli said, hoisting the twelve-pack of Coke up to his shoulder.
“Did you eat yet?”
Sean looked from Eli to me after I spoke, a solemn look on his face, and shook his head.
“Great.” I smiled, then I stared at him when he didn’t move or show hospitality, and giggled. “Uh, are you going to let us in?”
As if he needed the prompt, Sean stepped back then, no hesitation, and held the door open as he rubbed at the back of his neck.
“I like your house,” I told him, stepping in. “It’s…you have no furniture.”
I glanced around the empty living room.
There were rags on the floor and a lamp in the corner, plus a few empty soda cans, but other than that, nothing.
“You don’t have any furniture?” I asked instead of assuming, turning to look up at Sean.
Maybe he was keeping it in storage until he was finished fixing up the place?
“Got a bed,” he uttered, pushing the door shut after the boys stepped inside. “Plus a trunk to keep my clothes in.”
“Just a bed and a trunk? You don’t have anything else?”
How can he not have furniture? That’s crazy.
“Haven’t found anything I liked yet,” he replied, but something in his voice told me that wasn’t true. And when his eyes drifted and I watched him glance around the room, looking both frustrated and disappointed with the house he called a home, I knew he wasn’t being picky about furniture.
I decided to change the subject before the mood ruined this surprise.
“Well, I don’t know about you guys, but I’m starving,” I said, looking at my brothers, who were both nodding in agreement.
We ate in the middle of the room, pizza first, my brothers each devouring three slices and Sean putting away an easy four. I ate two slices of the half ham and pineapple, the other half plain cheese for Eli, then slid the box of donuts in front of me and threw open the lid.
My brothers both nabbed a donut, Dominic’s choice being peanut butter glaze with chocolate drizzle, and Eli choosing chocolate on chocolate. I settled on the maple bacon glaze, then gestured at the box, asking Sean, “You want one?”
He shook his head and pulled another slice of green pepper and onion out of the box.
“Wow,” I commented. Five slices was impressive.
“Been workin’ for hours,” he explained, chewing up his bite. “I was about to make a sandwich when you showed up.”
“You eat a lot of sandwiches, man,” Dominic said.
I looked to Sean, not knowing this about him.
He shrugged. “Sandwiches are cheap. I like cheap.”
“I like pizza,” Eli replied, chocolate drizzle coating his lips. “And d-donuts.”
“Me too,” I agreed.
“Same,” Dominic added.
Sean folded his pizza in half and took another bite.
He had put on a shirt before we ate, which sucked, in my opinion, but his feet were still bare, and I could not even begin to explain why that was sexy. It just was.
After Dominic and Eli ate their donuts, they asked Sean if they could go out back, leaving the two of us alone.
As the door closed, I sucked glaze off my fingertips and collapsed onto my back, holding my lower stomach. “I have a pizza baby,” I said. “He’s going to be beautiful. I just know it.”
Sean side-eyed me, smirked, then took another bite.
He smirked at me a lot. He smiled at me a little. I liked both.
“Want to play a game?” I asked.
“Nope.”
That cracked me up. “You don’t even know which game I’m going to suggest,” I said, laughing.
“Doesn’t matter. I wanna eat.”
“You can eat and play it. It’s a talking game.”
He looked over at me, swallowed his bite, and waited.
“We just take turns telling something about ourselves.”
“Hell, no.”
“What? Come on.”
“Nope.” He bit into the pizza, reaching crust.
I could’ve taken his answer and left well enough alone, but…no. I really didn’t want to do that. Not at all. I wanted to know him. I wanted to know more.
Tori, Syd, and Kali all liked to joke about how Sean looked like he’d been in and out of prison. He definitely had that hard, unapproachable, don’t-ask-questions look about him, and if it was true, I needed him to know it wouldn’t matter. Not to me. Not when I knew deep down the kind of person he was. So, instead of moving on and changing subjects, I didn’t.
I had the ammo. And I was using it.
“You paid for my tacos,” I said, pushing up to my hip.
Sean quit chewing and looked over at me.
“You were a stranger who paid for my food,” I continued. “Which was a good thing. Then you helped me with my brothers when I didn’t even ask for it, which was another good thing. So, it doesn’t matter what you tell me, Sean, because I already know the kind of person you are. What I don’t know are facts, aside from you being a cook who’s fixing up his house, who drives a kick-ass looking Harley, who works ha
rd doing his job and is great at it—I’ve tried your food—and who works hard at everything, I’m guessing, considering the appetite you’ve worked up. I want to know facts. I want to know more.”
“You don’t know shit,” he mumbled.
“Exactly. That’s why I want you play this game.”
He shook his head and tossed the crust into the box. “You gotta go. I got work to do,” he said, getting to his feet.
I got to my feet then too, stood in front of him, and tipped my chin up. “No,” I snapped.
“No?”
“I’m not leaving until you tell me more. You’re my friend. Friends know things about each other.”
“I ain’t your friend.”
Hearing that, I flinched.
Okay, that hurt.
Then I pulled in a breath through my nose, decided he was only saying that to get me to leave, which wasn’t going to work, and repeated, “You are my friend. And you don’t get to back out of this now. I won’t let you. Hell, you started it.”
His eyes got hard. “I started what?”
“You came to me.” I stabbed at my chest. “You saw me crying and came to me. You offered your help. You bought my fucking tacos. So you started it. We’re friends now. And you don’t get to decide otherwise. It’s done.”
I was certain, if we had spectators, they would find this standoff amusing, considering the size difference between Sean and me.
I, however, wasn’t finding any of this amusing. Neither was he.
Sean looked all over my face. He was breathing loud and heavy, his chest was rising with slow, thick breaths. “Who the fuck are you?” he asked.
“I’m a hair stylist,” I answered, because it was true and, well, if he needed examples how this was supposed to play out, I’d give him some. “Who also waitresses to cover bills while she starts her own business,” I continued. “I’m twenty-three. I love Taco Bell and would totally have them cater my wedding. I also love Frank’s Pizza because of their crust, and Duck Donuts because they’re just fucking delicious all around. I have one tattoo. I’ve never smoked a day in my life. I love being on the back of a bike and miss it terribly. I’m scared about a lot of things, but the big ones being I’ll lose my dad and I’ll fail at my business. I’m small, but I’m loud. I don’t like being told what to do, unless I also want to do those things. I’m bull-headed. I love singing in my car. The beach makes me happy. And I’m good at judging a person’s character. I’ve judged yours. I like it. Now, who are you?”
