Mine to Steal (Mine to Love)

by T. K. Rapp

  “If you’d let me finish,” I interject, my tone is low and menacing enough that it halts her incessant laughter. Kayla throws her hands up defensively and waves for me to continue. “She looks familiar, but I’m not sure.”

  “Then why don’t you go over and introduce yourself?” There’s a hint of a challenge to her tone, and I’ve never backed down from a challenge. She watches for a reaction as she leans back and crosses her arms over her chest, her eyebrow raised in question.

  “I’ll be right back,” I say with a grin when I stand up. I don’t bother to look back because, though she’s not interested, she’s still checking me out. And for whatever reason, it’s all the encouragement needed. Her friends disappear with the two men at the perfect moment, leaving her free to speak with me.

  The walk toward the woman feels like slow motion. I’ve never had a problem talking with anyone. I may not say the right things but starting a conversation is easy. But as I near her, I realize I was wrong; beautiful isn’t an adequate word to describe her. Maybe stunning? The closer I get, her features become more detailed. Her fair skin tone, and long wavy-brown hair draped over one shoulder is sexy, but it’s her full lips draw me in.

  Her eyes give her away, the ones I knew were staring at me from across the way, even if she tried to hide it. When I'm not more than five feet in front of her, I stop and wait for her eyes to meet mine.

  Blue. Damn gorgeous blue eyes that look like they are trying to send me on a quick trip to hell.

  “Do I -?”

  “Walk away,” she answers curtly, her eyes finding something else to focus on.

  That voice - I recognize that voice.

  “I’m sorry?”

  “I’m sure you are. And I bet you have some great pick-up lines, killer moves in the sack, and every intention of calling in the morning -”

  “No. I don’t,” I stun myself with that response, but it gets her attention.

  “Well, that’s a new one,” she mumbles to herself, still not giving me the time of day.

  “I’m sorry, were you talking to me?”

  “No, I wasn’t,” she answers, looking at me briefly.

  “Well then, please start.” It’s one of Jett’s most ridiculous pick-up lines, but I’m trying to get her attention, and nothing else is working.

  “Are you kidding me?” She offers a small laugh and gives me her attention. The instant she does, something flickers in her eyes, perhaps recognition, but it disappears.

  “That’s not what I meant. Do I know you from somewhere?”

  “Minus two for lack of originality.” Her tone is flat as she lifts her fingers to the air to count off my offenses. She shifts in her seat and clears her throat as she tries to avoid eye contact again.

  “Two?”

  “Yeah, that stupid line you just spouted, and the one before it.”

  “Alright, the first was a line. But I’m trying to get you to cut me some slack here. The second, I’m serious. You look familiar to me, but I’m not from here. I live in Denver.”

  She openly gapes at me and purses her lips together in disapproval. “I don’t know anyone in Denver,” she says, but the way she waves it off says otherwise.

  I step closer and motion to the seat, silently asking permission to join her. She nods, and I extend my hand to her. “Trey Miller.”

  She turns her head to me and studies my hand for a moment before accepting it. “Trey Miller, huh? Yep. I know you, it’s been a long time.” Her voice isn’t as confident as it was when I walked up. A small smile starts to peek through, but she shoves it back, and I want nothing more than to make it reappear.

  “Okay, so I’m not crazy,” I laugh. But she still hasn’t told me her name.

  “So how is it that you remember me, or rather, think you know me?” she asks, now completely facing me and engaged in our exchange.

  “I’m really not sure. You just seem familiar.”

  “Old girlfriend?” She narrows her eyes in question. Damn, she’s vicious, but she looks good trying to make me squirm. Trying being the keyword here.

  “No. I have no problem remembering those,” I scoff.

  “Aw,” she tsks, sticking her bottom lip out to pout. “Short list, huh?”

  I choose to ignore her sarcasm, which almost makes me laugh. “Are you from here?”

  “Lemme help you out. Abby.”

  “Your name is Abby?”

  “Your sister.”

  “How do you know my sister? Did you go to school with her?” I’m grasping for any information she’ll offer since she still hasn’t told me her name.

  “No, she was older than me, but she babysat me once.”

  “Does that mean you knew Jett?” Shit. There’s a chance she was one of the many he bagged in school, and I feel slightly annoyed by the thought.

  “Gross. Stop thinking that,” she snaps, wrinkling her features, as if reading my mind. She makes a weird noise, and her body shivers as if shaking the idea from her mind. “No, I didn’t sleep with your brother. He was a shit as a kid, and I doubt he’s changed. But yes, I was in the same grade.”

  Before she can elaborate, her friends walk over and remain standing in front of us. One of them points to her wrist, signaling it’s time to go, but the other peers down at me and gives me a once over.

  “Are you sure you’re ready to go?” the friend purrs before looking at the woman whose name I still don’t know.

  The beauty doesn’t hesitate when she answers, “Yeah, we need to head out.” She stands up and starts to follow her friends, and I stand up as well. She takes a step away but stops and turns to me once more. “It was nice to see you, Trey.” She doesn’t sound as irritated as she did upon my arrival.

  “You, too -” I pause, waiting for her to fill in the blank.

  “Doubt.”

  “Doubt?” I repeat, unsure what she means. Doubt she’s interested? Doubt she’ll give me her name? Doubt what?

  She walks back over to me and places her hand on my shoulder. Her lips are inches away as she leans in and whispers in my ear. “Ask your brother.”

  As she peels her hand away, a tremor runs through my arm, something familiar in her touch. She turns away, and I watch as she walks out the doors when it suddenly hits me why she looks so familiar.

  It’s her. She’s the one from last night.

  I replay the entire exchange in my head and everything that happened last night, but I’m even more confused.

  What’s she doing here?

  Hell, what does the name mean? And what does it have to do with my brother?

  Why didn’t she say anything about last night?

  I walk back over to my seat and find Kayla with a smug grin on her face; eager to hear the information I have to offer her.

  “Doubt,” I say, sitting down and grabbing my now warm glass, I take a swallow of my drink.

  “Excuse me?”

  “She wouldn’t give me her name. All she gave me to work with was ‘doubt’ and to ask Jett what that means.”

  Kayla’s brow creases and she looks lost. “Did she date your brother?”

  “She claims she didn’t. She knows all of us, but I remember her from last night.”

  “What happened last night?” She smiles and leans forward to hear the details.

  “I met her out at Wired last night, and we were drunk as hell.”

  “Did you hook up?”

  “Yeah,” I answer turning to look at the spot she vacated.

  “And you didn’t get her name?”

  “We didn’t do much talking, and I don’t think she remembers.”

  “Oh trust me - she remembers.” She takes another sip of her drink. “Everyone remembers their time with Trey Miller.”

  “She thought I was hitting on her just now.”

  “Weren’t you?” she asks with a crooked smile.

  “C’mon,” I down the rest of my glass and reach for her hand, “let’s get out of here.”

  “Sorry, Romeo.
I have an early flight tomorrow, so I’m heading home.”

  “Is that an invitation, Kay-La?” I tease.

  “No. It was goodnight; and stop calling me Kay.” Her smile widens as she repeats her warning from earlier.

  “Only if you stop calling me Romeo.” I laugh.

  “You and I both know it pretty much fits.” Kayla laughs as she stands up and gives me a kiss on the cheek. She links her arm through mine as we walk outside the bar, feeling the night air. I can finally hear myself think again. Too bad Kayla can’t hang out for a little longer, though I’m not sure what we’d do.

  “You sure you have to go now?” I ask as I hold on to her waist.

  “If I don’t go now, you could get me in trouble. Besides, I like watching you get rejected. I think it’s good for that sexy ego of yours.”

  “You’re good for my ego,” I say as I plant a chaste kiss to her lips.

  She smiles and wraps her arms around my neck and I hold her close, thankful she made the effort to see me. “It really was good to see you. I hope it’s not a year before I see you again,” she remarks as she lets go.

  “I agree. Next time you’re in my neck of the woods, give me a call.” She turns away, but doesn’t get too far before I stop her. “Hey, you never told me if you’re seeing anyone?”

  “You never asked.” She winks before departing down the street.

  What’s with all these women and their cryptic answers? Rather than stand on the sidewalk and dissect the evening, I start walking back to the hotel so I can prepare for my meeting with Cavette in the morning. But the first thing I’m going to do is call Jett and figure out what doubt means.

  Chapter 6

  The hotel lobby is buzzing, and I’m surprised to notice the bar is busy. Hotel bars don’t strike me as the type of place people would hang out at the end of the day. After last night, I certainly don’t need do have another, so I continue walking toward the elevators.

  Pamela is at her station behind the front desk and gives me a timid wave as I pass but drops her chin. By the way she tries to avoid eye contact with me, I think she feels weird about the note she left me. I’ve never had someone do anything like that, and find it sexy. When she peeks up again, I nod at her and throw in a wink. Her cheeks flush, and she smiles at the couple she is helping.

  As I stand in the elevator to get to my hotel room I think over the two extremes I’ve encountered today. On the one hand, there is Pamela who is beautiful and forthcoming in her intentions. Then there is the mystery woman from the bar who looked at me as if chewing glass would be better than talking to me. Women have to be the most confusing beings on the planet. All I need is one, and I’m not sure I’d be able to figure that one out.

  I flip on the light as I enter the room and plug in my phone before emptying my pockets. My bag is on the floor so I take it to the desk and bring out all the information for Cavette. I need to be prepared for tomorrow morning, but I can’t seem to get the woman’s words out of my head. I need to know her name. The file can wait so I leave it on the desk and sit on the bed to get comfortable.

  My phone is charging next to the bed, since it barely had any juice left when I got back here. I won’t be talking for long, but I find myself sitting on the floor next to the bed so I can hold the phone to my ear while it charges. I pull up Jett’s number and wait for him to answer in one of his usual obnoxious ways. On the third ring, he finally answers.

  “Please tell me you finally got laid.” There it is.

  “Jett,” I roll my eyes in exasperation and sigh, thankful he doesn’t know about last night.

  “Damn, guess that means no. You do realize if you don’t use it, it turns into a vagina, right?”

  “You busy?” I ignore his comment and get to what I called for.

  “Nah, Hottie left a few minutes ago. She said something about getting ready for a date. What’s up?”

  “Will you cut it out?”

  “What? She’s not here!”

  “How’d everything go today?”

  “According to my babysitter, I did a great job. I didn’t spill my drink, and I even went to the bathroom on the big boy potty all by myself.”

  “Good for you. I was worried about that, don’t want Hattie to clean up any more messes than she already does,” I deadpan.

  “Who’s this guy she’s dating anyway?”

  “Some football player. Evan something. Listen, I’m calling for a reason -”

  “I know. Everything’s fine. The Riayln people called today, and I spoke with the CEO. They’re coming by tomorrow to sign the contracts.”

  “That’s great,” I answer, genuinely pleased. “Did you and Hattie make sure all the numbers are correct and set up any initial meetings with them?”

  “Yeah, we got it all taken care of. By noon tomorrow, we should have everything put together. I’ll let you know as soon as it’s done.”

  There’s an awkward pause, so I decide to ask the question I called for. “Doubt.”

  “Thanks, Bro,” he responds tersely.

  “No. Who is Doubt?”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “I met a girl tonight, well, technically last night. She was at Wired Spirits and…” I trail, not wanting to give him any details. “Forget it. I saw her out here tonight, and she looked familiar. When I told her my name, she said ‘Doubt’ and to ask you. Any idea what it means?”

  “Doubt?” He tries the word out, repeating it as if it’s foreign to him. “Doubt. Doubt. Doubt! Oh shit! Doubt. I remember her. We went to school together.”

  “Yeah, that’s what she told me, but I know it’s not her name,” I argue. Who on earth would name their kid ‘Doubt?’

  “Nah, her name is Faith. Get it. Faith – doubt,” he jokes, and it’s obvious he’s impressed with his creation. But I’m not impressed. As soon as he says it, things make a little more sense.

  Faith. I recall hearing that last night before she came home with me, but I wasn’t concerned enough to ask. Had I known it was her name, I might have.

  “You nicknamed her Doubt?” His laughter answers for me, and I roll my eyes. “Why?”

  “I dunno, why do birds fly?”

  I rub my hand over my jaw in irritation. “What in the hell does that mean?” I groan. He’s beginning to irritate me, but I’m still curious why she gave me the cold shoulder tonight. I don’t know her, hell, clearly she doesn’t remember me from last night. Or maybe she does?

  “She was this scrawny girl with glasses and braces. We were like ten or something - it wasn’t a big deal. She lived a couple of streets over.”

  “I didn’t know her, but she looked famili- wait, Faith. Faith Young? She had a brother who was older than me, right? Lennox?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I remember him. He died in a car accident his junior year, I think.” I’m silent for a moment as I let the memories come back to me. “I don’t recall seeing his parents much after that. I forgot he had a sister.”

  “They moved about three months after he died,” he adds.

  “It wasn’t long after the accident, Mom sent me to come find you, and I saw this girl jogging down the sidewalk crying. I guess she didn’t see me because she ran right into me. I tried to calm her down to make sure she was okay, but she looked at me like I was going to break her.”

  That’s the look I saw as she debated walking away.

  “Probably because she had a crush on you.”

  “What? I barely remember her as a kid and aside from that one time, we never talked. Why would she have been into me?”

  “I told you, didn’t I? Everyone knew and teased her about it.”

  “No wonder she didn’t speak too highly of you. You really are a shit, aren’t you?”

  “Dude, I was a kid and as if you were any better. Pretend all you want, but you were no saint.”

  I huff an annoyed breath, partly because he’s right, and partly because it’s Jett. Even though he’s my broth
er, sometimes he irritates the shit out of me.

  “Everything makes sense now, Faith Young,” I lament, thinking of the girl who bumped into me and the woman she is now.

  “So how’d she look?” he asked, his curiosity evident in his tone.

  “Knockout. You wouldn’t stand a chance. Hell, I don’t think anyone stands a chance.”

  “I could turn her.”

  I scoff at his remark. “She’s got a ‘fuck off’ in neon over her head, and I think it was directed at me.”

  “Good luck with that,” he warns, as if he has experience with her. “Does she live out there?”

  “I have no idea. We didn’t get that far in the conversation. She hardly wanted to speak to me before she knew my name, but as soon as I said it, I don’t think she could get out of there fast enough.”

  “Tough break, Bro - Listen, I’d like to hear more about her, but I gotta go. I’m picking Cayenne up in an hour. Talk to ya later.”

  Before I can respond, he hangs up the phone, leaving me to my memories of the Young family. Faith, in particular. Her brother had died on the way to school when his car was hit by a drunk driver. I was a freshman and though I didn’t know the guy, everyone in school knew of him. The city practically shut down to pay their respects to the star baseball player.

  The day she ran into me, I figure she couldn’t have been more than eleven years old; she was exactly as Jett described a moment ago. Only that day, it was a bit more extreme. Her eyes were puffy, probably from crying, and her entire body was shaking.

  “Are you okay?” I asked, looking down at her. My tall, lanky frame towered over her.

  “You didn’t - please, let me go,” she pleaded with her eyes glued to the ground.

  “What’s your name?” I asked as gently as I could.

  “Faith,” she whispered it so soft I almost didn’t hear it.

  My hands gripped her shoulders, and I bent down to lower myself so I could see into her eyes. Her fingers tensed on my biceps, digging her nails into them. Her sobs were uncontrollable. I felt bad for what I knew she had been through but couldn’t console her, so I did the only thing I could think of.