Rush

by Samantha Towle

“Don’t call me that.”

  “You used to love it when I called you that.”

  “Nope. I always hated it. I just didn’t want to hurt your feelings at the time, so I pretended to like it. Guess what? I don’t give two shits about your feelings anymore.”

  “You’re being a bitch.” He steps close, getting in my face, but I refuse to move or show any signs of weakness. He’s not huge by guy standards—five-ten—but he’s still a hell of a lot taller than me. “What? You think you’re better than me now because you’re all sober and shit and working for your daddy?”

  How does he know I work for my dad?

  “No,” I say, staring up into his face. “I’ve always been better than you. You’re a loser, and I was an idiot to ever think you weren’t.”

  I go to move past him, but he grabs hold of my arm, stopping me.

  “Let me go,” I firmly tell him.

  He ignores me. His grip on my arm increases. “We’re not finished here, Arianna.”

  “Yes, we are! Now, let me go!” I yell, hating the tremble I hear in my voice.

  A second later, I see a shadow to my right, and then Kyle is moving, being pulled away from me and tossed backward where he stumbles on the lower step, falling on his ass.

  Ares.

  And I’ve never been so relieved to see him.

  “Are you okay?” he asks, his face lit with anger.

  “Yeah.” I swallow. “Yes, I’m fine.”

  His eyes move to Kyle, who’s just scrambled up to his feet.

  “I know who you are.” Kyle points a finger at him. “You’re that quarterback…Kincaid…who plays for her dad’s team.” Kyle looks past Ares to me. “You with this prick, Ari? Hooking up with Daddy’s players now? Being the good girl?”

  “Shut up, Kyle.”

  “You seriously want this guy over me?”

  “Are you fucking deaf, dickhead? She told you to shut up,” Ares barks at him.

  “Ari…please…I know I messed up, but I love you. So fucking much. I didn’t press charges when you smashed up my car. The cops wanted me to, but I didn’t. I wouldn’t. I told your dad when he came to see me—”

  “I’m sorry, what?” I step around Ares to stand in front of Kyle.

  “Your dad. He came to give me money to fix my car up.”

  “And you took it?”

  He looks sheepish. “I needed to fix my car up.”

  “So, that’s why you didn’t press charges. Because my dad paid you not to.”

  Kyle says nothing.

  “How much did he give you?”

  Still nothing.

  “How much?” I yell.

  “Ten grand.”

  I almost choke. “And that’s all gone now, right? That’s why you’re back here, sitting outside my apartment. You need more money.”

  “No.” He lunges toward me, grabbing me again. “I need you! I love you.”

  “Get your fucking hands off her.” Ares shoves him back away from me and advances on him, looming over him. “You don’t put your hands on a woman ever, dick face. And especially not her. If I hear you’ve come near Ari again, they’ll be finding parts of you all over the city.”

  Kyle tries to straighten up, lifting his chin, acting like he’s not afraid, but I know him better than that. “You threatening me, quarterback?”

  Ares looks at me and lifts his shoulders. “Did you hear me threaten him, Ari?”

  “Nope.” I shake my head, staring back at Kyle.

  “You’re a fucking bitch,” Kyle spits at me. “And you, quarterback, you’ll get what’s coming to you.”

  “What did you call her?” Ares takes a menacing step forward, his foot stomping on the ground, and Kyle takes off running.

  It would be almost comedic, if it wasn’t so pathetic.

  “Wow.” Ares barks out a laugh. “He can really run for a guy who’s half-cut.”

  “Impressive, isn’t it?” I say as we watch Kyle leg it around the corner of my block. “Well, I think you scared him off.”

  “Fucking pussy,” Ares grinds out. “He’s got no problem picking on a woman half his size, but he runs like Usain fucking Bolt when a guy fronts him.”

  “Honestly, I think he was more half of your size than me being half of his.”

  Ares’s eyes come down to me, the look in them softer than I’ve ever seen before, and he chuckles. “You actually used to date that prick?”

  “Yeah.” I sigh. “But I was drunk for all of the relationship, if that counts for anything.” I lift my hands, palms up, giving a loose smile, and surprisingly, he laughs again.

  “Come on, I’ll see you up to your apartment.”

  “You don’t need to. He’s gone.”

  “I know I don’t need to. I want to, okay? So, I’m walking you up, and then you can invite me in for a coffee.”

  I give him a look of mock shock. My hands go to my chest. “Coffee? That’s not actually code for…coffee, is it?”

  “Shit, you got me,” he deadpans. “And I’ll be wanting milk as well.”

  “Jesus, you’re pushing it, Mr. Perfect. Okay, I go as far as milk. But, just so you know, you’re not getting any sugar.”

  “Don’t need it. I’m sweet enough.”

  “Ugh.” I wince. “It was going so well, and then you ruined it with that lame joke.”

  He laughs, and the sound works through me in the best kind of way.

  “Come on then, Mr. Perfect. Let’s get inside and get you your coffee with milk.”

  “Here you go.” I hand Ares the cup of coffee I just finished making.

  He’s standing in the middle of my living room. And the sight of Ares Kincaid standing in my apartment is not one I ever thought I’d see.

  He looks so imposing in my apartment. Like a giant in a playhouse.

  “You can sit, you know,” I tell him as I take a seat in my cozy armchair, leaving him with the sofa.

  He takes a seat on it, almost taking up two of the three seats that the sofa has to offer. Sitting forward, elbows on thighs, hands cradling the cup, he stares across at me.

  “I know I already asked you outside, but are you really okay? That prick didn’t hurt you, did he?”

  “No. I’m fine,” I reassure him.

  “Did he…used to be like that with you…in the past? While you were together?” He seems to struggle with getting the words out, and if I didn’t know him like I do, I’d think the thought of someone actually hurting me bothered him on an emotional level.

  “No.” I smile softly. “Kyle was a cheating asshole and could say some pretty mean things at times. But he never once got physical with me. That’s the first time it’s ever happened.”

  Ares exhales, his body seeming to relax a little. “Well, I’m just glad I was here to scare the shit out of him.”

  “Why were you?” He looks taken aback by my question, so I expand, “I mean, I just figured you’d left after I got out of your truck.”

  He gives me a disgruntled look. “I might be an asshole, Ari, but I’m not a careless one. I wasn’t leaving until I saw you go inside your building. Especially not when that prick was sitting, waiting outside for you.”

  It jolts me when he says my name. He said it a couple of times when we were outside, but everything was crazy then, so it was hard to register, but now, in the silence of my apartment, hearing him call me Ari…it’s nice.

  Better than nice.

  I bring my coffee to my lips, blowing on it to cool it. “You are an asshole,” I say over the rim of the cup, giving him a wry grin. “But I am grateful that you were here. I really do appreciate it.”

  Because I have no clue what would have happened if he hadn’t been. I would like to think that Kyle wouldn’t have hurt me. But, once upon a time, I never thought he would cheat on me.

  It really is true that you never know a person.

  I shiver, and Ares notices.

  “You okay?”

  “Yeah, I was just thinking.”

 
“About?”

  “What might’ve happened if you weren’t here.”

  His face darkens. “Don’t worry about that. But I do think you should think about getting a restraining order.”

  “Doesn’t that seem a bit extreme?”

  He gives me an irritated look, and I concede. “Okay, I’ll consider it.”

  “Get a rape alarm, too. That’d scare the motherfucker off.”

  “I’ll pick one up tomorrow. But could I ask…please don’t mention Kyle turning up here to my dad? He’s been trying to get me to move back home with him since…everything. Kyle showing up would only strengthen his case.”

  Even though I’m angry with my dad for not telling me that he gave Kyle money, I can’t let on to him that I know because then he’d know that I saw Kyle, and I definitely don’t want that.

  “I don’t know, Ari. Your dad should know.”

  “Please,” I say softly, eyes pleading.

  He lets out a sigh. “Okay. But on one condition.”

  “What?” I take a sip of my coffee.

  “You let me drive you to and from work.”

  “What?” My head snaps up so fast that I hear my neck click.

  “I don’t want you catching the bus and walking home alone with that prick loitering around.”

  “First, how do you know I catch the bus? And, second, I’m pretty sure Kyle won’t be coming back around. I think you scared him off for good.”

  He puts the cup down on the coffee table. “One, I know you catch the bus because you don’t have your license at the moment.” He ticks off on his finger. And I wait for the barb about how I lost it to come…but it never does. “And, two, that guy isn’t smart enough to give up on the first try. He’ll be back; trust me.”

  “I don’t need you babysitting me, Ares. And why would you even want to?”

  “Because you won’t let me tell your dad about what happened with that dipshit tonight. And because, believe it or not, I do have a conscience, and I would never forgive myself if something happened to you, and I knew what was going on and did nothing about it.”

  “There’s nothing going on.”

  “That out there wasn’t nothing.” He jabs a finger in the direction of the window. “That guy was drunk and aggressive with you. He grabbed you, for fuck’s sake. So, it’s either me driving you or we tell your dad.” He stubbornly folds his arms.

  I stare at him, furious. I don’t like being backed into a corner.

  And since when did he turn into a decent guy who cared about my welfare?

  “What’s it gonna be?” He pushes. “I have your dad’s number right here…so we can call him now…” He reaches into his pocket for his phone.

  “Fine!” I yell. “Fucking fine! You win. I’ll ride with you to and from work.”

  He pushes his cell back into his pocket and smiles smugly at me.

  I don’t know whether I should be pissed off or thankful that he now cares about my welfare. And he’s not a bad guy, size-wise, to have as a pseudo bodyguard. He’s built like a tank.

  He picks up his mug, drains his coffee, and then places it back on the table. Then, he toes off his sneakers, which are huge, by the way.

  Big feet, big—

  Don’t even go there, Ari.

  Cheeks flush, I mutter out, “Um…are you staying?” I set my cup aside after finishing the last of my coffee.

  “For a bit, in case that fucknut decides to come back.”

  “And do I have a say in this?” Clearly, I’m still feeling pissy about the corner he backed me into a minute ago.

  He sits up. “Of course you do. It’s your place, Ari.”

  “Well, I didn’t have a say a minute ago.” I fold my arms over my chest.

  “You had a choice. You always have a choice. Would I prefer it if you told your dad about what happened with that asshole? Yes. But you won’t, so you’re stuck with me for the time being until I know Kyle the cunt has gotten the message and is not gonna come back and bother you again. Now, if you want me to go home now and leave you alone, I will. Just promise me that you’ll lock up after I’m gone. And, if he turns back up, you’ll call the police and then me. In that order.”

  I watch him reach for his shoes to put them back on, and I have this odd, tight feeling in my chest at the thought of him leaving. The word alone rattles around in my mind.

  I’m tired of being lonely.

  “Wait…”

  He stops and looks over at me. I can’t meet his eyes. I stare down at my hands in my lap.

  “I, um…you…can…stay for a while. If you want.” I make it sound like it’s me doing him the favor when actually it’s the other way around.

  I’m so pathetic; it’s laughable.

  I risk a glance at him through my lashes.

  “Okay.” He nods and sets his shoes back down.

  I decide not to dig too deep into the fact that I’m not ready for him to leave. I’ve just…I’ve never had someone care about me…well, care about my safety, like this before, and it’s…nice.

  He’s nice.

  And there are two words I never thought I’d say in relation to Ares Kincaid.

  How things have changed in such a short space of time.

  “Do you, um…want to watch some TV?” I ask him for the need to break through the weird atmosphere currently residing in here.

  “Sure,” he says.

  “What are you in the mood for?”

  “Football,” he says.

  I groan, and just like that, we’re back to normal.

  “Oh, yeah, I forgot that you don’t like it.”

  I don’t believe for a second that he forgot. The smirk on his face is telling me that.

  “Seriously though, how can you not like football? Especially when your dad is a football coach. You must’ve spent your whole life around it.”

  Not really. My dad was hardly ever home to share his love of football with me.

  Of course, I don’t say that. I don’t want to get into the specifics of that with him. And it’s not that I don’t like football per se. It’s just that I resent the fact that my dad chose it over his family.

  “It’s just not my thing.”

  “So, what is your thing? Painting?” He nods his head in the direction of my easel that’s sitting in the corner of the room.

  “Oh.” I swallow. “No. That’s just a…hobby.”

  I don’t know why I lied. I guess…I just don’t want to tell him about another thing I’ve been failing at.

  Ares stares at me for a long moment, like he’s trying to see what’s really inside my mind. “Hmm,” he murmurs. “Well, I guess I’ll have to see what I can do to change your mind about liking football.”

  “Ha!” I laugh. “Good luck with that.”

  “That sounds like a challenge, Jailbird. You should know I love a challenge.”

  Jailbird. Ah, so he’s back to calling me that. I guess not everything has changed then.

  “So, what do you want to watch?” I ask, changing the question, trying to hide my disappointment.

  His eyes assess me. Then, he shrugs those big shoulders of his. “I don’t mind. What are you watching at the moment?”

  “Riverdale.”

  “What’s it about?”

  “A bunch of high school students who—”

  “Pass.”

  “I didn’t even get a chance to tell you what it’s about!” I laugh.

  “You lost me at high school students.”

  “Okay. So, no shows about schoolkids,” I say, scrolling through the listings. “Oh, have you seen Dexter?” I ask, coming to a stop on it.

  “Nope. Is that the show about the serial killer who’s a cop?”

  “Blood spatter analyst, but yeah. I’ve not seen it, but I’ve heard it’s amazing. I’ve wanted to watch it for a while, but I’ve been too chicken to watch it alone,” I admit on a laugh.

  “Okay, put it on. We’ll watch the first episode and see if it’s any good.” />
  “You want anything to eat before I put it on?”

  “Whatcha got?”

  “Chips, um…some cookies, I think. Oh, and ice cream.”

  He looks at me. “Chips are good.”

  I push out of my chair and head into the kitchen. I grab the two bags of chips that I have in my cupboard.

  “Which do you want?” I ask him, holding them up for him to see. “Cheetos original or Doritos Nacho Cheese?”

  “Doritos.”

  “Good. ’Cause I want the Cheetos.”

  “I could change my mind.”

  “Too late.” I toss the bag of Doritos to him, and he chuckles.

  I sit down in my chair and press play on Dexter.

  “How many seasons are there of this?” Ares asks as I open my bag of chips.

  “Um…eight, I think.”

  “Fuck. That’s a lot of TV.” He laughs.

  “Don’t worry; I’ll only make you endure this first episode.”

  He glances over at me, giving me a steady look. “I’m not worried.” His voice is deep and sure.

  I try to ignore the shiver I feel and fail miserably.

  We don’t speak for the whole episode, both too engrossed. When the pilot ends, we both look at each other, wide-eyed, and Ares tells me to put on the next episode.

  Before I do, I go for a bathroom break and grab us both a couple of sodas on the way back to the living room.

  I grab the blanket I have from the back of the chair and cover myself with it before putting on the next episode.

  We’re on the fourth episode, and I can feel my eyes getting heavy with sleep when I glance over at Ares and realize that he’s asleep.

  He’s slouched down, head tipped back on the top of my sofa, long legs sprawled out on the floor. It does not look comfortable at all.

  I look at him for a moment. He looks so much younger in sleep. Face relaxed. Dark lashes shadowing his cheekbones. His hair falling onto his forehead. I wonder if it’s as soft as it looks.

  I turn the TV off midway through the episode and push my blanket aside, climbing off my chair.

  “Ares?” I say softly.

  “Mmhmm?” he mumbles.

  “You’ve fallen asleep.”

  He makes a sleepy sound. It’s actually pretty cute.

  “If you’re tired…you can stay here, if you want?” I bite my lip.