Rash Decisions

by Alex Rosa

  “I can pay you.”

  I laugh, raising an exaggerated eyebrow. “Of course you’ll pay me. Who said you wouldn’t? I don’t do free favors for you, Troy.”

  This time when his lips twitch, my mouth can only mirror his with endearing apprehension.

  “Okay. Well then, I’d love the help if you can. And I’ll pay you,” he emphasizes while poking Elizabeth in the stomach, making her giggle, which only makes me want to join her. “I’ll give you my address tomorrow, and I’ll see you later in the evening, yeah?”

  My joints get weak again at the realization I’d be babysitting his daughter in his home. The nerve-wracking idea of being in his house where he sleeps, lives … and takes women to … overwhelms me, and I consider backing out.

  “—Yay, Jules is gonna come play with me!” Elizabeth exclaims, bouncing in Troy’s arms.

  Okay, nope. I’m in too deep. It’s official.

  “Sure.” I grin, suddenly feeling hot in the confines of my office with Troy in front of me.

  His eyes glow with honest appreciation, but his huff of curiosity has me intrigued.

  “Thank you … for the second time today,” he says seriously before pausing. He peers over my shoulder at my desk. “Are those interior designs to a restaurant unit?”

  My lips stretch wide in an incriminating manner as I swivel around and grab them. “Um, maybe they are …”

  He purses his lips. “I thought we were a team. What are you working on?”

  “Team is still up for debate. Maybe we would be one if I didn’t stumble into your secret business deal today with the Soleils. How about I tell you about this one when I get more information.”

  “Julia …” he whines, and I find that my first name on his lips has my heart igniting like a firecracker.

  I heave in a deep breath, and the only way I can recover from this feeling is with reflexive snark. “Hey Lizzy, which one do you like best?” I lift up three large pieces of paper.

  Elizabeth’s eyes brighten up like it’s her birthday. “I like the middle one!” she gleefully exclaims.

  “Perfect,” I smirk. “Now I have something to show at my 10:00AM meeting,” I retort sarcastically.

  Troy chews his bottom lip. His heated stare of annoyance has me forgetting to breath as he says, “Goodnight, Ms. Ferris!”

  He swiftly turns on his heels, exits my office, and speed-walks to the elevator, with Lizzy’s chubby arm swinging in goodbye at me as they disappear.

  What the hell am I doing?

  I stuff the rest of my chocolate bar in my mouth, savoring the instant sugar rush.

  I was so anxious when I got home that I had no appetite for dinner, and knowing I needed some sort of sustenance for a potentially awkward night of babysitting, I grabbed a chocolate bar at the corner store in a time of need.

  As I skip up the steps and swallow the last bite of chocolate I take in the giant, dark marble building that Troy apparently resides in. I should’ve guessed what kind of place he’d live in. I don’t know why I pictured him living somewhere else. It isn’t like him to own a house in the suburbs, even if he does have a child.

  Go figure. I didn’t see that one coming. The child, I mean. Actually, I take that back. I mean everything. He’s constantly surprising me.

  It’s obvious this place is better suited for him as his bachelor pad. I confirm the thought as I let my eyes slide over the sleek gold metal doors of the elevator taking me to the fiftieth floor.

  I want to huff and roll my eyes. What a Jerk-Faced-Hot-Shot.

  I bounce back on my heels as my stomach plunges into my guts from the rocketing elevator. The feeling of nausea only supports the fact that I’m so out of my element.

  Why did I agree to do this again?

  When I arrived home earlier, I had hoped to see the pixie cut blond girl so I could introduce myself in the hopes that I could change the fact that a seven year old was going to become my first friend in this city. Troy doesn’t count, and I don’t know Noah well enough yet.

  I hug my phone gleefully at the thought, which helps my rattled nerves. I haven’t had this much of a text relationship with someone since college, and I have to admit … it feels good. Juvenile, but good. Noah and I have been texting nearly every day since I, literally, fell into his arms.

  I had forgotten what liking someone new felt like. Rarely have I experienced it, if ever. I’m stupidly excited for our first date.

  As the metal doors pull apart I never imagined I’d feel so underdressed for babysitting. I know that’s a ridiculous thought, but as I peer down at my torn up jeans and straighten out my worn, oversized, grey knit sweater, I can’t help but think I should be wearing at least something more presentable, and a little less homeless-chic.

  I pull in a deep breath and strut into the hallway, my black Chucks screeching in the silence on the white marble tile.

  It’s hard to explain, but I want to laugh. This seems to be my reflexive response whenever I’m trying to be cool.

  With each stride my shoes echo another squeak, and my giggles only get more incessant. I chew the cuff of my sleeve, trying to cover my quiet laughs as I examine the gold lettering on each impressive dark wood door that I pass. With each squawk of rubber over the polished tile, my laughter only grows because it hits me how ostentatious it is for Troy to live here. I swear, if he has the corner unit apartment I might actually die of laughter. Each passing door is like a higher level of douche-bag, and all I keep thinking of is how I’m trying to get away from this kind of lifestyle. It only confirms that Troy and I just aren’t on the same playing field. Other than work, we have nothing in common.

  My steps stop at the second door from the end of the hall. Apartment 5031B. Close enough to that corner unit.

  I swallow my last bout of giggles and knock a few times. My hand barely lifts away from the door before it swings open, and suddenly I’m stunned into awe.

  Troy’s sapphire eyes burn into me as his long fingers rub through soft, charcoal strands of hair.

  Why do the jerks have to be the pretty ones? Troy’s casual look throws my ovaries into overdrive. His leather bomber jacket with a sweatshirt hoodie emerging from the collar makes him look like the guy from the wrong part of town. However, it all clashes so wonderfully with his bedhead of hair. His hair is always slicked back and sharp. He always looks so severe. Now, I don’t know how to feel. His boy-next-door-but-I’d-totally-sneak-into-your-window-at-night look throws me.

  “You’re early,” he barks harshly, and all I can think is: oh, there it is.

  “Am I?” I gulp. “Do you want me to come back?”

  My insides recoil at my own question, remembering that I’m the one doing him a favor.

  His cheeks pink and his eyes soften, too. I swear I might have actually turned into a puddle. My body wants to fall into his arms, and it’s the most ridiculous feeling that I have ever felt.

  “No-no. It’s fine. Please come in.”

  My heart jolts in my chest at the real life event of stepping into his home. I don’t know whether or not I should kick myself over the circumstances of why, but I let it go.

  I rush past the modern, granite kitchen, drawn to the large open room, and the glittering view. I try to keep my jaw safely sealed to my mouth as I enter. The space is stunning, and shockingly warm. His expansive, contemporary window that dominates the living room gives an almost tranquil effect to the cozy interior. Large, plush leather couches sit in the center on dark cherry wood floors, and the maroon walls are adorned with works of art and complete with a polished red brick fireplace. It all makes me want to snuggle up, like a cabin in the sky-rise.

  A giggle almost clucks its way through my lips, but my rational side decides to finally catch up.

  “You have a beautiful home, Troy.” I take my eyes off the large bookshelf in the corner, noting its location for later, and look at Troy. It’s a terrible idea as my eyes collide with apprehensivel
y searing blue ones. I wet my lips. “I didn’t know what to expect, but this is a nice surprise.”

  Troy Dillinger does this thing with his mouth, I’ve noticed. He only ever does it when he’s curious, even if it’s a reluctant curiosity. I’ve witnessed it so many damn times now that even my hormones are asking to take a break. It’s when the corner of the right side of his mouth tweaks upward into a brief smirk a certain way, if only for a couple of seconds at a time. I’ve never seen anyone do it just like that. The look is like a bullet shooting sharply into your heart, jolting your insides.

  Is this normal?

  He walks toward me from the kitchen, sticking his hands into his black skinny jeans, and I notice his eyes traveling over the length of my body again.

  Yep, definitely regret wearing a sweater.

  “What did you expect?” he asks.

  It’s a funny thing. Sometimes Troy’s antagonizing is infuriating, but then again, sometimes it makes me relax, like right now. I should probably give my therapist a call. This feels like a topic we should cover.

  “You don’t want to know,” I quip, pursing my lips into a smirk, only igniting his own.

  “I beg to differ—“

  It’s as if I had forgotten why I’m here as I see the seven-year-old Elizabeth barreling in from a hallway I hadn’t noticed.

  Oh, god. I’m here to babysit, not flirt.

  A few short chortles escape Troy as his eyes soften again, and I wonder if it’s all at my expense.

  I roll my eyes, feeling beyond foolish. He’s just toying with me. He wants me fired, not to date me.

  I turn my attention back to Elizabeth.

  “Jeewwwwwllll-thth!” her cute lisp sounds as she halts her short legs at my side. “Do you like documentaries?”

  I let out a loud, unfiltered laugh, flinging my wide-eyed stare to Troy.

  He rubs at his stubbly jaw, nodding his head comically. “She’s a pill, ain’t she? She won’t watch Disney, or anything.”

  “She’s going to be a genius, you know that?”

  “Yeah I know, and I’ll have Ivy League debt to plan for.” He pauses, as if questioning my trust in his joke telling before quickly adding, “I’m kidding.”

  “Chill, Troy.”

  I don’t wait for a response as I kneel on the floor to put myself at Lizzy’s height.

  “Which documentary?” I ask.

  Lizzy’s eyes sparkle like the glittering pony on her shirt, and she’s on the verge of a reply.

  “—Did you just say chill?”

  Both Lizzy and I slowly turn our heads to her father.

  “Dad, shshshsh!”

  “Yep, I definitely like your daughter more than I like you,” I add.

  He grunts and leans down to join me on the floor. I get a whiff of his leather jacket and woody cologne. It’s hypnotic and I try to keep my balance.

  He turns to Elizabeth, tugging at her arm, and kisses her forehead quickly, as if predicting her refusal. Sure enough, her arms come jutting out to stop him. His laughter combines with her high-pitched giggles, and I didn’t know Troy could make me hate him, want him, and envy him all at once.

  “Daaaddd! Stop!”

  “Alright-Alright.” He kisses her reluctant cheek one last time before rising. He glances at the time. “I better get going. Do you know how to work the TV?”

  I raise a brow. Focusing on annoyance helps keep my irrationally squirming insides from going into a frenzy.

  The corner of his mouth twitches in that way before he replies, “Okay, of course you do. Well, emergency phone numbers are on the fridge. Elizabeth is supposed to be in bed no later than nine. Feel free to help yourself to food. She’s already had dinner, but she does have yogurt as a snack, or if she’s really good, there are chocolate covered almonds in the pantry. Also, she’s born to be a lawyer, so don’t let her talk you into letting her stay awake past nine. The next thing you know you’ll be on the couch watching an animated subtitled French film.”

  My brows scrunch together. “Can she read well?”

  He raises an eyebrow at me before making his way out. “Have you met my child? She can read well enough, but then again, I don’t think she cares either way,” he replies before heading toward the front door.

  I release a string of laughs, and I notice Troy does a double take before he stops and turns around. His eyes heavily take in my presence at the opposite end of the hall.

  What’s he thinking?

  “Are you going to be okay? Are you sure you can do me this favor?”

  I want to roll my eyes again, but instead my head tilts to the side, offering him a small smile. “It’s fine. Don’t worry about it. I wasn’t doing anything tonight, and I swear my babysitting credentials date back to my teens. Where are you off to anyway?”

  My heart barrels into my throat. That isn’t my business. I shouldn’t ask, and I shouldn’t want to know.

  It’s as if I’ve cornered him to answer when I put him so on the spot. The rosy hue that appears beneath the dark stubble confirms it.

  “I have a date,” he responds crisply.

  Of course he does.

  My heart soon plummets to my feet, taking my stomach with it.

  I chirp a response, forcing a smile. “Oh. Have fun. Be safe, and I’ll have Lizzy in bed by nine.”

  He pauses a beat, and that twitch sparks at his mouth again, but his knitting brows throw me. It’s as if he debates what to say, and that’d be a first. Biting down on his bottom lip, looking down at Lizzy and then back at me, I feel like I need to sit down.

  “Thanks. I put money on the counter for you, and I should be home by one.”

  I can’t speak, so I nod.

  He exits without another word. It isn’t until the sound of the door shutting that Elizabeth tugs on my jeans and says through her plump pout, “Of course I can read!”

  I feel nothing, and by nothing I mean sexually. The worst part about it is: I don’t know why. I adjust my pants underneath the table as if to wake up my dick.

  Ally has been yapping the past hour over dinner, and even though I’m primally distracted by her breasts overflowing over her strapless dress, I can’t help but think about who’s currently at my place right now, and I don’t mean my adorable daughter.

  I get uncomfortable by the thought, adjusting my shirt, feeling strangled by it.

  “Troy, did you hear me?”

  “Huh?”

  “I asked how’s your food?”

  I shake my head, trying to focus, and my eyes swing back to Ally’s who’s in the process of chewing through her bite of salad while eyeing me disapprovingly.

  “Um, food’s great.”

  My answer doesn’t satisfy her and all I can do is offer her a smile. I need to somehow make this work. I should want this.

  I analyze her features and for the first time it feels too much, and even too predictable. Her skin is over exposed and I don’t find the lack of mystery appealing. Instead, I swing my stare back to hers, and find her pretty face easier to accept.

  I try for a more charming grin, and her scowl falters, giving me hope of salvaging the evening. However, I can’t seem to push these feelings away. The realization that, although she’s attractive, I don’t actually want her for more than sex, bothers me for once.

  Even I can admit the callousness of the confession.

  “Sorry I’m so distracted. Work has been chaotic. You have my full attention.”

  She grabs for her napkin, dotting her mouth impatiently, as if not to smudge her magenta lipstick before speaking. “Are we going to your place or mine?”

  I don’t know why I didn’t expect that question as I eat my last forkful of food. I refresh my memory of how our last encounter went and if I’m not mistaken, that might’ve been my line last time.

  The idea of bringing her back to my apartment is horrifying, even if Elizabeth would already be asleep. Don’t even get me started on
having to shoo out Julia while trying to stomach her disgusted look of disapproval either.

  I don’t want Julia’s playful expressions to be replaced with real disgust. She can hate me in the work place, but I don’t want her to hate my life.

  Toying with what’s right, the idea of heading to Ally’s crosses my mind blandly.

  I swallow down my bite, and I know the potential of Ally’s possible freak out if I back out. Even if I agreed to sleep with her it would be a terrible effort at sex. I force a deep breath as I toss my fork back onto my plate, debating whether I should take her up on her offer based on lustful principle. Maybe burying myself in one woman might get my mind off of another.

  “Actually Ally, I can’t.” I grit my teeth guiltily. “I left my daughter with a new babysitter, and I just don’t feel comfortable leaving her alone tonight.”

  It’s almost too easy to lie knowing that secretly I want to lay my eyes on a certain woman even if it’s just for five minutes.

  Seeing Julia out of her office attire, relaxed and carefree, and still effortlessly sexy, had me easily imagining what it would be like seeing her in that gray sweater, and only that gray sweater. Her peaking hipbone from her low hanging jeans that hugged her lean legs had my body in a constant battle of running toward her or away from her. But it might’ve been her dainty shoulder that nestled itself against the edge of the over stretched collar that had my eyes savoring the lines of her collar bone to her jaw, and that constant look of “I dare you” that did it to me.

  It had me considering bailing on Ally even as I left, but what would I do then? I couldn’t exactly ask Julia … anything!

  I shake my head. Stop it, Troy. Just stop it.

  “That’s fine, don’t worry about it. Your head is somewhere else tonight. It’s fine. I guess it’s not like we really lost anything.”

  Ally carelessly lifts her shoulders, finishing off her last sip of wine. “That being said, you mind if I take a cab out of here?”

  My brows tense, and I’m initially offended. Am I really getting ditched? I was going to take her home after this anyway, but leave now? It feels worse than getting stood up. “You wanna leave right now?”