by S R Watson
Irelyn finally gives up and lets me have my way. She knows how stubborn I can be. We register for twelve credit hours and manage to get two of the four classes together. Score. We spend the rest of the day shopping and getting lunch. I even let Irelyn talk me into buying a dress. I don’t know if I’ll ever wear it, but it felt empowering to step out of my comfort zone for a moment—knowing that I have the strength to do so.
When we walk in, the guys are all sitting in the living room watching Family Guy. Surprisingly, Sasha is not sitting next to Phoenix, but instead, messing with her phone at the dining table. We’re told that there is lasagna in the oven and invited to have a seat and a beer. I note that Phoenix is not drinking. He looks at me, but I look away. Irelyn takes a seat among the guys after putting our bags away. I excuse myself to head back out and take a walk. I intended to stay close to the house, but the fresh air and deep thoughts take me farther away than anticipated. As the sun begins to set lower in the sky and the hues of orange transition to purple, I know I need to head back. I don’t want to be caught on this country road in the dark. I feel a few droplets of water hit my arms, so I walk faster. Within minutes, the sky opens up to a full downpour. Shit. There is no need to run now; I’m getting drenched anyway.
The roar of a motorcycle engine sounds in the distance as a single headlight blinds me. I put my hand over my forehead to get a better view, and I move closer to the side of the road to let it pass. It comes to a screeching halt next to me, and I nearly jump out of my skin. The rider flips the visor of the helmet, and I’m staring in the eyes of Phoenix.
“Get on,” he says.
“No, thank you,” I reply as I continue walking.
“Goddammit, Harlow. It’s pouring out here. Now is not the time to be stubborn.” He is agitated, but I don’t give a shit. I don’t want anything from him.
“I’m not getting on that death machine with you. I’d rather be wet than dead. Why don’t you go ask Sasha if she wants a ride?” Oh, that does it. He’s fuming now. I don’t slow my pace, but I can hear him cursing to himself behind me.
“Stop with the jealous bullshit and just get the hell on, will you?”
“Jealous? You wish, asshole. You and that tramp deserve each other.” I start running to get away from him, but I misjudge the added weight of my baggy jeans from the rain and fall face forward. My hands break my fall, but I’m more than a little humiliated. Phoenix is off the bike in an instant.
He kneels at my side. “Are you okay?”
“Just leave me alone, please.” I try to jerk away, but he pulls me into his embrace, and I can’t overpower him.
“Please, just stop. Let me get you home safely, and then you can go back to hating my guts. I’m not going to leave you here.” I know he isn’t lying. I’m learning that he is just as stubborn as I am. We’re two fools in the rain, refusing to give in to the other. Fuck it. As he said, I can go back to hating him once we get back to the house. I let him help me up.
“Fine. Let’s go,” I huff. He takes off his helmet and puts it on my head before I can protest. He straddles the bike and then holds it steady while I get on. I’m scared shitless as he takes off. I wrap my arms around his waist tightly and lean with him around each curve. I can feel the hardness of his abs underneath my fingers contract when he moves and the vibration of the seat between my legs. I can admit he handles the bike with expert precision, but that doesn’t mean I would want to be on one again anytime soon. When we arrive back at the house, I can’t wait to jump off. Asher is standing in the doorway with a scowl.
“I’m glad Phoenix found you. I looked around the house for you. When it started to rain, I was really worried. Why did you just take off?”
“I just wanted to go for a walk. It’s kind of my thing. I didn’t realize how far I’d gone, and I didn’t know it would rain all of a sudden.” I know he was worried. “Sorry for making you worry. It won’t happen again. I’ll tell you next time I decide to go for a walk.” Phoenix walks past us and into the house.
“Irelyn is upstairs waiting on you. She was worried too,” Asher continues. She runs up to me and hugs me as soon as she sees me.
“What the heck did you think happened to me? It’s just a little rain.”
“I don’t trust these country woods. You could’ve been picked up by an ax murderer or something.” She giggles, finally at ease.
“Shut up, cray-cray. Nobody wants me.”
“That’s not true,” she says, shoving my arm.
“I’m going to take a hot shower and get out of these wet clothes.”
“Phoenix already headed that way. He may have beat you to it,” Sasha warns. I’m not talking to this skanky, guy stealing whore.
“You can use the shower on the first floor,” Asher offers.
“Go ahead, and I’ll bring you a change of clothes,” Irelyn chimes in.
“Okay. Thanks.” I use the shower downstairs. It is nowhere near as nice as the one in the master bath. I almost feel guilty. I hear the door creak open, and I can make out Irelyn laying clothes on the counter for me.
“I’ll just take these wet clothes and put them in the wash,” she says, before heading back out the door.
Chapter Five
Harlow
I step out of the shower and immediately notice those clothes are not my things. I run over to them and lift them up. They’re some sort of tights and tank with a sports bra. The panties are the only thing that belongs to me. I dry off quickly, wrap the towel around me, and crack the door open.
“Irelyn!” I scream. “Irelyn!” I keep yelling her name until she brings her smart ass down these stairs to see what I want. She knows why I’m calling her.
“Yesssss,” she drags out when she gets to me.
“Don’t yes me. These are not my clothes. Where’s my stuff?” I don’t have much. She pushes past me and closes the bathroom door behind us.
“I put all your shit in the wash, so they’re wet. This is a goddamn intervention. I’m sorry, but you’re just going to have to be pissed with me.” I begin to have a mini panic attack.
“Why would you do this? God. Now, I need to get something to wear from Asher.” I’m so upset with her as I pace the floor.
“Would you listen to yourself? It’s fucking clothes, Harlow. It’s time to fucking stop hiding behind the damn clothes and makeup. Whatever happened in your past, let it go.” She attempts to lower her voice. “You are a strong, independent woman. You don’t need clothes to define who you are. I don’t know what happened, and you don’t have to tell me, but I know the whole point is to make yourself visually unappealing.”
“You don’t know shit.” Tears spill from my eyes, and I angrily wipe them away. How dare she? She yanks my arm and pulls me in front of the mirror.
“News flash, baby girl. You’re beautiful no matter what you wear. If you’re not interested in the attention of a man, then tell them to back the fuck off. You're feisty as fuck, so I know that you’re capable.” She breathes out a calming breath. “Those clothes you wear are for a fucking coward, and you are not that. Embrace your curves and sexiness. If you don’t want a relationship with a man, you don’t have to. This fall starts a new chapter for us, and I will not let you hide anymore. You have me. Just please, give up this whole baggy look. We can go shopping and do girly shit together. And for the love of all things holy, please see that I’m doing this out of love.”
I walk over to the tub and take a seat on the edge. Of all the previous lectures I’ve gotten from my mom and other people about how I dress, this is the first time that someone has gotten through. I have given power to my past. It’s held me captive and made me scared to be seen by the opposite sex. I didn’t want to be on their radar. I’m still afraid. It seems silly when you say it out loud, but the clothes and makeup make me feel safe.
The truth is, Phoenix ignored it all anyway, and I’m able to handle him—sort of. He is the ultimate alpha male, so if I can interact with him, maybe I don’t have t
o be afraid of men. This is a big step for me, but I’m going to try. It’s better to do a trial run here than on a campus with thousands. Plus, I have Asher and Irelyn here. Jesus, the fact that I’m having this inner monologue with myself about clothes makes me certifiable. I look up at Irelyn, and she gives me the brightest smile imaginable. She knows that she has gotten through. She doesn’t say anything. She just hands me the clothes. I don’t even ask her to leave. She’s seen me naked before. The leggings slash tights, whatever the hell you call them, are knee-length, but the tank doesn’t cover my ass. I know I’m curvy, and right now, they’re all on display. I timidly walk out behind Irelyn up to the second floor.
“Eat your heart out, Sasha.” She laughs.
“Ugh,” I groan.
“What? Her body doesn’t hold a candle to yours, babe. She had shit to say about you not changing into a swimsuit yesterday. She is going to wish you were still hidden. The guys are going to flip their shit, so be ready. This is your test.”
“Thanks.” Now I dread going upstairs even more. I’m not going to back out now, but I pray they don’t make too much of a big deal over my transformation.
“What the…?” The question dies on Ren’s lips. The guys all turn to see what got him so excited.
“Well, I’ll be goddamned,” Phoenix says. “There she is.” He walks over to me and shakes my hand before I can yank my hand away. “Hi, Harlow. Nice to finally meet you.”
“Cut the shit, Phoenix,” I chastise.
“I don’t see what the fuss is about. So she finally put on some normal people clothes and washed all that shit from her face,” Sasha whines. “Good for you, Harlow.”
“Fuck you.” I’m tired of her shit, so I give her the middle finger. Asher steps in to defuse the tension.
“I like it, sis. You don’t need all that baggy shit. You’re a beautiful woman, not some Goth or tomboy.”
“Can everyone please stop focusing on me, please? Don’t make this weird for me. It’s something I’m trying to see if I like it. Everyone has their own personal style, so get off my case.”
“Anyone want to watch American Horror Story?” Phoenix changes the subject. He looks over at me and winks. I still hate that he slept with the skank, but he is not mine, so I can’t hold that against him. I do appreciate his effort to take the spotlight off me. It works because the guys begin to grab plates of lasagna and beers to settle in for the show. Phoenix, of course, grabs a plate of chicken breast and greens.
I laugh when Sasha tries to poach on his food, and he tells her no. He says he only has enough for him, but I happen to know he has a fridge full of prepped food. Karma is a bitch. She gave up her ass less than twenty-four hours ago, and now he won’t share his food. I do believe vengeance is a dish best served cold.
A week passes, and Irelyn has since gone, taking her slutty cousin with her. Things have returned to normal, but Phoenix has been a little hot and cold. Some days, he can be sweet and considerate, and other days he can be a douche. He offers to watch Elementary recordings with me one day, and then another day, he tells me, “Meh, that show is for pussies.” One day, he seems to enjoy my company, and the next day, he is entertaining his groupies. I swear, he gives me whiplash. The good thing is I haven’t reverted back to the black baggy clothes. I’ve been wearing mostly jeans and T-shirts still, but they fit. Irelyn couldn’t wait to take me to get a few things before she left. It’s not as bad as I thought. I’m just glad I have someone like her in my life who cares enough to call me out on my shit. I miss her already, but she needed to go home to get packed because classes start in a week.
Phoenix
I’m on the sofa, killing time on the Nixon website looking at watches, when Harlow comes downstairs at a snail’s pace. I zero in on her legs that are on display in the cheer shorts she obviously slept in. She is sexy as fuck. I’ve been at constant half-mast ever since she started showing that banging ass body she had been hiding. She’s quite stacked, with a D rack and an ass you could probably set your beer on. The guys have kept their ogling in check, but I know they have thought about what it would be like to fuck her just once. That shy, immature way she has toward men is at odds with the package she comes in. She’s not going to be ready for the attention headed her way once she sets foot on the University of Alabama campus. She has no idea how gorgeous she is, yet so down to earth. She is a rare find.
I do note that she is looking a little pale as she gets closer. I watch as she goes to the refrigerator and puts her head against it. I get up to see what is wrong.
“What’s wrong, Harlow?”
“I don’t know. I just don’t feel very well. I’m achy all over.” I feel her head with the back of my hand, and she is burning up.
“You definitely have a fever. What did you come down here to get? I’ll get it for you.”
She uses her hand to push off the fridge, and I can’t help but notice her cleavage push up against her tank as well. God, she is sick, and here I am, checking out her tits.
“I just needed to get something to drink,” she replies.
“You need to eat something, too. Go get back in bed, and I’ll bring it to you.” She looks at me hesitantly but then decides to listen. She heads back the way she came. I set about fixing something I think she will be able to tolerate while sick. I make her oatmeal with a little more water in it than I use for myself so that it has a soupy consistency and will be easier to get down. I make toast and pull out a breakfast tray while I’m waiting for the two slices to pop up in the toaster. Lastly, I add a glass of orange juice to the tray before grabbing some cold and flu medicine we keep in the medicine cabinet downstairs. I don’t know what other symptoms she has, but this should take care of them all. I head back to the kitchen to put the remaining shit on the tray and take it to her.
Harlow has already fallen asleep, so I set the tray next to her on the nightstand and shake her gently.
“Wake up, sleepyhead. You need to eat.” She rolls over and looks at me with those beautiful grays, and I feel a twinge of something in my stomach.
I help her sit up and place the breakfast tray on her lap. She gets all misty-eyed and mouths, “Thank you.”
“No problem. Here. Take the medicine first,” I suggest as I take the two capsules out of the foil packaging for her. I hand them to her, and she swallows them down with the orange juice. She takes a tentative spoonful of the oatmeal, and again, I encourage her to eat. I step into the hallway to make a phone call after I’m satisfied she is doing as she is told.
“Hello?” Sevyn picks up the phone after the first ring. “Phoenix? Where are you, man?”
“Sorry, dude, but there has been a change in plans. I can’t meet up with you today to handle that for you. Can you reschedule?” Sevyn and I have an undisclosed arrangement. We help each other at predetermined times, but our individual involvement with said help is kept strictly between us. The guys know he exists, but only by name. They don’t know where I spend my time when I leave here.
On the other hand, he knows about the life I have here, and I know of his. Our partnership requires us both to be knowledgeable of each other’s personal life so that the arrangement we have in place is not sidelined by surprises. We have to know what timelines are available to us to be beneficial to each other. Nobody outside of the two of us can know about our connection if our arrangement is to work.
“I guess I’m going to have to reschedule. I would appreciate a little notice next time, though. This makes me look bad.” He sighs.
“I didn’t know ahead of time. Harlow is sick, and nobody’s here to look after her. I don’t know where the hell the guys are. They were gone when I got up.” I’m prepared for teasing since I don’t normally give two shits about anyone but myself, according to him. Instead, he lets me off the hook.
“Fine. I’ll text you later with a new date and time.” We hang up, and I see that Harlow has fallen asleep again, this time with the tray still in her lap. She finished the orange juic
e, at least. I walk over and collect everything to take back to the kitchen. I’m tempted to slide into the bed next to her, but with how on edge I’ve been, I don’t know if I could maintain my control at that proximity. I’m not a saint. She tempts me like no other. Sometimes I feel like she is wearing me down and not the other way around. The fact that I fucked Sasha set us back tremendously. Although I backed out of giving Sasha the whole Dom experience, I still gave her multiple orgasms. That night with her was gratifying at the moment, but I hate the rift it’s caused between Harlow and me. I know that she likes me; her jealousy proved that. The crazy thing is, I now feel that it goes beyond the sexual attraction I picked up on initially. Imagine that. Someone wants me for more than just my dick, yet we both continue to participate in this orchestrated dance where we ignore and avoid the inevitable.
Be that as it may, I still have needs right now. I need something tight I can slip in and out of, and then carry on about my business, but I can’t leave Harlow here alone to fend for herself. I almost consider the possibility of rubbing one out, although I haven’t done that in ages, when I hear the guys coming in downstairs. Thank fuck.
“Where in the hell have you guys been?” I ask. I noticed that Asher is not with them.
“Ren and I went to visit the deep throat twins.” Killian grins. “Damn, those women have skills.” Ren nods his head in agreement.
“Don’t get caught up, fellas. Knocking on the same door too many times leads to someone catching feelings and shit.” I personally have a three fucks and you’re out rule. And that’s only if her shit is phenomenal. Basic bitches get the standard one-night stand. If any of them knew the restraint of my actual desires, they’d probably run. Then again, some would be foolish enough to stay and accept all the darkness I unleash, just to have a piece of me. I have to be mindful of the weak. I require submission, not a pushover.
