[2014] Ten Below Zero

by Whitney Barbetti

  He tugged the hair hard enough to pull me closer. “I value women, Parker. But you don’t. You don’t value anyone.”

  It hurt, the way he spoke to me, the way he invaded my space. But I refused to look away. I met his eyes and stared back. Indifference felt like another planet to how Everett made me feel, and there was no way I could pretend he didn’t affect me.

  “And I don’t stick my nose in business that isn’t mine. You gave me the key. Did you expect me not to open the door? Not to find out about Morris Jensen?”

  I didn’t know what to say.

  “Listen,” he continued in the silence. “You think you hurt me with the things you say? You don’t. Nothing can hurt me. That’s the beauty of my death sentence.”

  He was only making me madder. It bothered me that he could hurt me and I couldn’t hurt him back. “Why are you so focused on me then?”

  Everett smiled and looked down at my hair in his hand. He twirled one of the waves around, twisting it and letting go. “Because I’m a self-serving bastard. Don’t get me wrong, I want to help you. But I also want to hurt you. I want to break you. I want to see you live.” He looked back at me. “I’m stuck on you, unfortunately. And my conscience won’t let me leave this earth seeing you live so half-heartedly.”

  I sucked in air. I couldn’t breathe. “What if I like the way I live?”

  “Ha,” he laughed humorlessly. “That’s just it – you aren’t living. And if you liked this life, you wouldn’t have asked me that question. You’d have told me to fuck off.”

  “Fuck off.”

  “Too late now. I’m stuck on you. Which means you’re stuck with me.”

  I slapped his hand from my hair and turned, walking down the sidewalk away from him.

  “Not running away from me this time, Parker,” he said, catching up with me.

  “Go away.”

  “No.”

  He made me angry. I wanted to hurt him. “I don’t even like you!” I yelled, turning to him, my fists balled with rage.

  “You don’t have to like me.” He grabbed one of my fists and brought it to his chest, pulling me close. “But something about me gets to you. I can hear it in the noise you make when I get close to you. I see the look in your eyes, a combination of desire and fear.”

  I tried pulling my hand from his, but he held tight. I yanked harder and he reached out, grabbing my other fist and pulling them both into him, pulling me so we were inches apart. I stopped fighting. “What do you want from me?” I asked, defeated.

  “Come with me on the road trip.” There wasn’t even a moment’s hesitation.

  “You barely know me,” I protested.

  “You barely know me,” he replied.

  I shook my head. “Why?”

  “I want you to.”

  I furrowed my brow. “That’s it?” I asked incredulously.

  “Yep. Men aren’t complicated creatures, Parker. And we mean what we say. So come on, humor me. Come on the road trip. If you want to return home at any point, I’ll buy your plane ticket.”

  I fidgeted. I couldn’t help it, but I did want to go on this road trip. And a bigger, scarier, part of me wanted to be around Everett as much as possible. If he thought he could make me value my life, maybe I could make him fight for his. Both were a losing battle, but the words fell from my mouth a moment later. “Okay.”

  “Okay?” he asked.

  “Yeah, fine.”

  “Whoa, don’t sound too thrilled, please.” He let go of one of my hands and I brought it to my chest, self-consciously. “Just promise me something,” he said, a laugh on the edge of his voice. I looked at him and cocked my head to the side in question. “Don’t fall in love with me.”

  I laughed. For the first time in years, I actually laughed. It sounded rusty and maniacal. But I actually laughed. My eyes bugged out of my head and I slapped both hands over my mouth.

  Everett was looking at me curiously. “That sounded like a dying cat.”

  I cleared my throat and removed the hands covering my mouth. “That wasn’t very nice.”

  “Yeah, well, your laugh is fucking awful.”

  “Don’t worry, I’m in no danger of falling in love with you.”

  He nodded. “Good.”

  We resumed walking when a thought suddenly occurred to me. “Wait. Do you have a reliable car for this road trip? Mine is, well, not reliable.”

  Everett scoffed, “Like taking your car was even a remote possibility. I don’t think you can even actually call that piece of shit a car.”

  “It is a car.”

  “Don’t you mean ‘cars’?”

  I narrowed my eyes. “Yes, actually, it’s two cars welded together. It still runs.”

  “Really?” he asked.

  I kicked a pebble on the sidewalk and looked down, avoiding looking at him. “Well, not right now apparently.”

  “Like I said, piece of shit.” He kicked a pebble at my foot, earning a glare from me. “Are you in love with me yet?” he asked.

  “Not even close.”

  Chapter Eight

  I didn’t realize we were walking to my apartment until we reached the parking lot. “Um,” I said, gesturing at my building. “This is where I live.”

  “Let’s go up,” Everett said, walking towards the stairs to the apartment.

  “Um,” I said again. I was nervous about letting him see where I lived, but then I realized it didn’t matter. We’d be on the road soon anyways.

  “Come on,” he said, gesturing with his fingers for me to follow him. “I’ll help you pack.”

  I followed him into the building. “How long will we be gone?”

  “I don’t have a time limit. Unless you fall in love with me, then your ass is on a plane.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Not going to happen. And I start classes in two months, so I can’t be gone longer than that.” Was I really agreeing to a long road trip with this man, this man I barely knew? Apparently I was. I was throwing caution to the wind for the sake of convincing him to fight. But I couldn’t figure out why I cared or why I was putting so much effort into it.

  I opened the door and looked around cautiously. When the big room appeared clear, I walked in, letting Everett follow behind.

  “Are you thirsty?” I asked.

  “Yeah.”

  “Hmm,” I hummed, grabbing a soda and a lime from the fridge. Instead of handing the soda to him, I opened it and grabbed a glass from the cupboard next to the fridge, filling the glass with soda.

  I topped off the glass with a handful of sliced limes and walked out of the kitchen, sipping my drink. I purposefully didn’t get him a soda.

  A minute later, he followed me into my room. I noted his hands were empty. And then I noticed how large he seemed in my bedroom, a man clad in black taking up more space than I did. I averted my eyes and swallowed, moving to closet.

  I tossed a suitcase on the bed before grabbing some underwear. I held it tightly between both hands as I walked towards the bed. Everett was sitting, no – reclining – on my bed. He’d settled back against the pillows and had his hands behind his head.

  “Make yourself at home,” I muttered sarcastically.

  “Oh, I did. Don’t worry.”

  I bit my cheek and walked to the suitcase, pulling it towards the end of the bed. Everett, though relaxed against my pillows, was staring at me, watching my every movement. I suddenly felt embarrassed about my underwear. Which was stupid. I tossed it in the bag, trying to be nonchalant about it, as I moved about my room grabbing additional things. When I turned around, Everett was playing with my underwear.

  “Put that down.” I stalked over to him and yanked it from his hand.

  “You’re a pretty basic girl, aren’t you?” he asked. Something about the way he said it irked me. My best friend, annoyance, came through loud and clear.

  “I don’t need to impress anyone,” I said, raising my chin in defiance.

  “I didn’t say you did.” His hand s
naked back into the suitcase before I slapped it away. “But I’m surprised you don’t have even one lacy underthing.”

  “Why does it matter to you? It’s not like you’ll be seeing them anyway.”

  Everett raised one eyebrow and my knees went weak with the look he gave me. “I’ve already seen your underwear, Parker.” I licked my lips. “I’d rather see them off of you, as in on the floor.”

  I coughed. I didn’t know what else to do. I turned around and blew out a breath, trying to stay busy and focus on the task at hand. But with Everett sitting on my bed, he was a massive distraction. “Why don’t you get yourself a soda or something?” I gestured towards the door with a hand-floppy wave.

  “Oh, that’s okay? I wasn’t sure, since you didn’t offer me one a few minutes ago, after asking if I was thirsty.” His tone was dry, mildly annoyed. Good, I thought.

  “You’re a big boy, Everett. And I’m not your waitress.” I bent over to grab a box under my bed. When I stood up, my back was against his body. I nearly dropped the box. My fingers tightened, white-knuckled, on the box, while he pressed against me from behind. I felt his lips at my ear, his breath warming the skin right behind it.

  “If you’re going to call me rude, especially like it’s a dirty word, you better expect me to treat you the same when you are blatantly rude back.” His voice crawled across my skin, igniting the goose bumps on my neck. “It was rude not to offer me a drink, Parker.” His voice lowered when he said my name. It took everything in me to keep from shivering.

  “I never claimed to be anything else,” I said, once again using his line. My heart beat was beating like I had just finished a race.

  His lips pressed to the skin behind my ear and my lips opened in a silent gasp. I felt my heart beat all the way down in my belly. The kiss was light. And then his arm wrapped around my waist from behind me. He was unknowingly holding me up at this point. He squeezed his arm, squeezing my ribs slightly.

  His other hand came up to my neck and pulled the hair to the side, pulling until I tilted my neck to give him better access. His lips and teeth grazed my neck then and my knees buckled. His lips were an electric shock; I absorbed it all. My eyes closed and Everett nipped my skin again. The arm he’d wrapped around me moved then, and before I could get a handle on what was happening, he’d spun me around to face him. I was breathing hard, keeping my eyes closed. My hands had involuntarily clasped his upper arms and I squeezed. Opening my eyes seemed an impossible task.

  His lips descended, peppering kisses along my jawline. His hands moved to my hair, pulling it all back away from my face, pulling it hard enough to cause tension on my sensitive skin. I was drowning, sinking, into Everett.

  His lips kissed my entire face, except for my lips and scar. I didn’t think too much about that, because the places he was delivering kisses to were cramping all other thought. I’d never been kissed like this, without my lips actually meeting another’s. He kissed to taste, not to deliver affection. He’d said he was self-serving and I knew this was another example of that. But this time, I was benefitting from it as well.

  He finally pulled away from me. Breathless and aching, I opened my eyes, desire clouding my vision. When he finally came into view, he was smirking. His lips were red, swollen, and my skin felt raw.

  His hands slid slowly from my hair. “How do you feel?”

  His smug smile pissed me off. “How do you think I feel?”

  He shrugged, that damn smirk staying in place. “Probably frustrated.”

  I blew out a breath. “That’s one word for it.”

  He nodded. “Good.” And then he walked out of my room.

  I sank down onto my bed, hoping the blood would recirculate to all my limbs. I heard the fridge open and I sighed. I took a sip from my own drink before resuming packing. Before I could talk myself out of packing, I heard laughter from the kitchen. More specifically, feminine laughter. I bolted out of my room and slowed my pace as I stopped just outside the kitchen, peeking from behind the wall that separated it from the hallway.

  Everett was pouring a drink into a glass. Jasmine was sitting on the counter a few feet from him, swinging her long tanned legs back and forth. She laughed again at something Everett said.

  A second later, I was in the kitchen, interrupting their cozy chat.

  Jasmine eyed me with humored malice. I braced myself.

  “Is this the guy?” she asked, not bothering to lower her voice. She was closer to Everett than she was to me, so she might as well have yelled the question.

  “What do you mean?”

  “That date you went on?”

  Everett turned to look at me. “Was that a date?”

  “No.” My answer came quickly.

  Everett leaned against the counter, so now both Everett and Jasmine were facing me.

  “Well, the first time wasn’t a date. But what about the second time? Or the third time? Or the fourth time?” he asked each question between sips, as if giving each one contemplation.

  Jasmine’s eyes were so big, they looked like they’d fall right out of her face. “Four dates? How long have you known him, Parker?”

  “Not even a week yet,” Everett said, glancing at Jasmine. “And tomorrow, she’s coming with me on a road trip.”

  I closed my eyes and clenched my fists. Damn, Everett. When I opened them, Jasmine was looking at me questioningly. “Is this a joke?”

  “No.” All I could manage was one-word answers, apparently.

  Jasmine looked at me for a minute. I could practically see the gears in her head rotating. She pursed her lips and turned to Everett. “Really? You’re taking her?”

  Everett had been sipping his drink until she asked that. He pulled the drink from his lips and his eyebrows drew together. “I am,” he confirmed.

  Jasmine narrowed her eyes. “You don’t know her all that well. She’s kind of a wet blanket.”

  Rage burned in my fists. What was wrong with me? I never let Jasmine get to me, ever. I usually brushed her shenanigans off. But what she said to Everett bothered me more than I cared to admit.

  Everett set his glass on the counter and pushed away, putting distance from Jasmine, closing the distance to me. He was facing me now, on the opposite side of the kitchen, with his back to Jasmine. I watched his eyes roam over me. “She’s not.”

  “What?” Jasmine asked, already forgetting what she’d just said.

  “Parker isn’t a wet blanket.” Everett said, staring at me. “She’s much more than that.” He stepped closer. I gripped the counter behind me. “She’s got a bunch of layers,” he continued, advancing. I doubted Jasmine was even listening anymore, probably succumbing to her inebriation judging by the way she swayed on the counter.

  “So, in fact, you’re the wet blanket. For only seeing the superficial. ” The words were said to her, but they were meant for me to hear. Everett was so close now that I couldn’t see beyond him. And I didn’t care to. He had a small smile on his face. He took the final step that pushed his hips against mine, pinning me to the counter at my back. And then he cupped my jaw in his hands and covered my mouth with his.

  This time, he kissed me with affection. I felt it in the way his lips brushed my lips first, getting me used to the feel, to the pressure. And then he pushed softly against my top lip with his tongue. My mouth opened and my eyes closed and then his arms wrapped tightly around me, crushing me to him. I gasped in his mouth and gripped tightly to his waist through his shirt. His lips and tongue were moving a devastatingly slow pace against my lips, savoring me. Kissing me with emotion. My heart beat a passionate beat, echoing the beat I felt from his own.

  “Parker?”

  Everett slowly stopped kissing me. He didn’t pull back immediately at the intrusion. Instead, he took his time leveling off the kiss, ending it with one chaste lips-to-lips kiss.

  When he backed away, I couldn’t move my eyes from him. He looked at me sadly before looking away, grabbing his drink and taking a large pull.


  “Parker?” the voice asked again. Dazed, I turned my head to the right, finding Carly standing at the threshold to the kitchen, a bottle of wine in hand. And then I looked at Jasmine again.

  “Are you drinking this early?” I asked.

  Carly frowned. “Jasmine ran into an ex. She’s self-medicating.” Jasmine had one hundred exes. I tried not to roll my eyes. Carly shook her head.

  “Who’s that?” she asked as if Everett wasn’t even in the same room still.

  Everett rubbed his lips together. “I’m Everett.” He nodded at Carly, but turned his brooding eyes back to me.

  “Uh, hi,” Carly replied. She walked into the kitchen, a look of confusion clearly evident on her face. She reached into the drawer next to me and grabbed the bottle opener. She placed it on top of the bottle and began screwing into the cork. Awkward silence hung in the air amongst us before I finally said, “Goodnight Carly,” and walked out of the kitchen.

  Thankfully Everett was close behind me. I opened the door to my bedroom and after Everett had followed me in, I closed it and leaned against it.

  “Your roommates are nosey,” Everett commented, sitting back on the bed. He reached into the suitcase again.

  “You would know,” I said, snatching a bra from his hands.

  Everett shrugged. “It’s underwear. More specifically, it’s your underwear. I’m intrigued.”

  “Yeah, well don’t get any ideas.”

  Everett leaned back into the pillows, resting his hands behind his head again. “Oh, but I have a lot of ideas.” He winked at me.

  I stalked away towards my dresser and began pulling things from drawers. When I turned back around, Everett was holding another bra.

  “You don’t wear padding,” he commented, his fingers feeling along the lined cup.

  “No.”

  “I like that.”

  My hands stilled. And then I moved them again. “Why?” I didn’t care. Really, I didn’t.

  “Lies.”

  I turned around. “Lies?”

  “I like the truth. In every way.” He seemed lost in thought so I turned back around and packed my things.