by Mary Martel
Since then Quinton had been having clients meet at his house for business. He hadn't even entertained the notion of them coming back here because I had moved in, and I didn't think he wanted them around me after that first go with it. He was overprotective like that.
I didn't want to go another round with another lady who was only here for the eye candy and didn't like me because I was pretty and hanging around.
I was a little disturbed by this, though. The guys made money off of the clients that came to see them, and I thought it was a great deal of money or they wouldn't have bothered with them in the first place. I was causing them to lose out on money, and that was never a good thing, especially when I was living here rent free and people kept buying me things. They needed that cash intake (or, so I was telling myself), and I was the only reason they weren't receiving it.
"I could clean," I murmured.
That didn't exactly mean I wanted to do it, but I would help out and do my part. I did live here, after all. But, I didn't really understand what he thought needed cleaning. The house was by no means dirty. It wasn't spotless, either, because of the damn cat and his hair that seemed to somehow fall off of him to the point he should have been bald, but in actuality didn't look like he ever lost any of it. It was bizarre, I tell you. If I lost that much hair I would have giant bald spots all over my head.
"We will help you clean," one of the twins agreed with me.
I thought that odd since they didn't live here, so why should they be offering to help clean up a house they didn't even live in? I didn't get it. In fact, I wondered what they were even doing here at all, especially so early in the morning.
I sought out the clock on the stove and choked on my coffee.
"It's almost eight." I rushed out. "It's a weekday. Shouldn't the two of you be getting ready for school? Why are you here? You should be at the big house right now."
Now that I thought about it, I didn't think either of the twins or Ty were going to school anymore. When I'd almost run Tyson over, it had been early morning, and he should have been in class at the time, but wasn't. And, I remembered Quinton saying the twins had been home during that time as well.
"Why aren't you both going to school anymore?" I asked before either of them could answer my first round of questions.
I hoped it hadn't had anything to do with my quitting school, because I didn't think Quinton would take that kindly, and he would eventually take that out on me or give me a stern talking to because of it. A talking to I would very much like to avoid, if at all possible.
"We only went to school because that's what you were doing," one of the twins said and my body jerked at his words and I almost dropped my coffee cup.
"What?" I whispered.
Abel looked to his twin before answering me. Once Addison nodded, Abel told me, "We didn't grow up like normal children, Ariel. We didn't go to preschool and learn the abc's with the other kids our age. We were homeschooled, and we only went to school here because we thought it would be the best way to meet you, and since you were going, we'd get to spend plenty of time with you. I actually think Quinton's been laughing at us behind our backs, because we didn't initially quit when you did, and kept going just in case you decided you wanted to return. My twin and I enjoyed our brief time in the public-school system, but we are very glad to have it come to an end."
"Teenagers suck," Addison mumbled grumpily.
I agreed with him, wholeheartedly.
"So, you only went to high school because of me?" I asked. My face split into a wide, happy grin. "That's really cute."
"We'd do anything for our girlfriend," Abel told me smartly. "Anything. Even if it meant we had to do it before she knew she was our girlfriend."
"That doesn't sound creepy or anything, twin," Addison cut in.
Abel rolled his eyes and grinned at his brother. "It wasn't meant to sound creepy at all, twin. I just wanted her to know the sacrifices we made on her behalf before she was even aware of how much she wanted us."
"I can get behind that," Addison muttered in complete agreement with Abel.
I giggled at their antics. They either heard me and chose to ignore it, or they didn't hear me at all and simply continued with the easy banter.
"Make out with her when she needed a hug," Abel said.
"Steal all of her pajamas and replace them with our t-shirts when she was having problems sleeping," Addison returned.
Abel nodded his head in agreement. "Oh," he said, "I like that. Good idea, twin. But only if we're around to see her wear our t-shirt to bed."
"Better yet," Addison replied, "we were in that bed with her."
"This is why you're the smart one," Abel grumbled.
"And the prettier one," Addison shot back.
"I don't think so."
They could go back and forth for hours and it would never get old for me.
Still, I had no idea how one could find themselves more attractive than the other when they were all but identical, save for hair and eye color.
It was ridiculous, really.
Dash elbowed me gently in the ribs. I tilted my head to the side and looked at him in question. "Drink your coffee," he ordered. "I'll make you breakfast while you shower and change. You eat, then we will clean the house. Maybe do some laundry as well. With you here, the guys have been staying over more. I don't mind that at all and would prefer them to stay here all the time. But, they go through a lot of clothes because there are a lot of them, and they all end up stuffing the hamper full and none of those shits bother to run the dirty laundry through the washer and dryer."
My lips pinched together, and I looked down at the floor in embarrassed shame. I hadn't done the laundry once since I moved in here, part of the overflowing hamper had been my doing.
A lone finger tapped the underside of my chin, tipping my face up. I looked into Dash's eyes and wasn't surprised to see them warm.
"I don't mind doing your laundry," he smirked at me. "In fact, I kind of like it. I like seeing all of your unmentionables mixed in with my clothes. It's cute."
My face heated. Cute wasn't the word I would have used to describe it, but then again, I wasn't a guy, and his underwear would have held no interest for me whatsoever.
"I think I'll do my own laundry from now on," I muttered, sounding as embarrassed as I was, which was pretty freaking embarrassed. "You shouldn't be doing my laundry."
"I like it," he said. "And it is cute. It makes me feel like we're a real couple instead of just roommates. I like seeing your things mixed in with mine, and even though I know it'll never happen I wish I could see your clothes next to mine in my dresser, your things hanging beside mine in our closet that we share. It's not going to happen because there are too many of us, and we all need our own personal space for ourselves, but it doesn't mean I can't want things. I want to feel like we're a real couple, and I want to do things real couples would do. Like share space in our closets, and me clearing out a drawer for you in my dresser. But that's not going to happen, and I've got to be okay with it. I mean, we live together for Christ’s sake, I should be happy to have that. Seeing your clothes mixed in with mine in the laundry hamper makes me feel good. It makes me feel like you're here, you're home, and you're staying. You need to just let me have my moment and not burst my bubble, and get over it. I like doing your laundry. It's everyone else who are assholes and need to wash their own clothes. If they lived here, it would be one thing, but since the only people who live here are you and me that makes them assholes for leaving their dirty clothes behind when they go home. I mean, seriously, who does that?"
I didn't want to share my closet space with him or with anyone else. Had he seen the inside of my closet? It was only meant to be used by half of a person. Geez.
"I'm sorry I don't want to share a closet with you, Dash," I told him seriously.
His lips twitched. "That's okay, Ariel. Just let have my illusions, and allow me to continue doing your laundry. You can also help me out by
leaving your brush and all of your other girly shit in the bathroom. I'd really appreciate it."
I frowned at him. "I didn't want you to think I was going to move in and take over your house and fill it all up with girl stuff. And I've been trying really hard not to leave my stuff laying around. This is your house, and I am super grateful that you're letting me stay here with you because it does feel like home, but I don't ever want to over step and clog up your space.”
He moved into my space, into me, and wrapped his hand around the side of my neck. His serious, haunted eyes bored into me. "I'm glad you feel like it's home here, because it is your home, for as long as you want it to be, and I hope that's a long damn time. I know Quint wants you to live with him, but you don't need to do that, you don't need to go anywhere. Living with him would drive you both crazy. But part of this being your home is you not being worried or afraid I'm going to get upset if you leave your stuff lying around. Please, clog up the bathroom with girly shit, I would freaking love it. Leave your shoes laying around on the floor in the mud room and your laptop sitting on the couch when you're done with it instead of running both upstairs to put away in your room like you're a freaking guest here, and not a person actually living here. You're driving me crazy with your obsessive tidiness and need to have everything put away where it belongs. Get settled and start acting like you actually belong here and aren't just visiting, because this is your home and I want you to be comfortable here. You can walk around here in your underwear and I wouldn't give a shit."
The twins burst out laughing and I wasn't surprised at hearing it. They would love it if I started walking around in my underwear, heck, they'd probably move in and never leave.
It was never going to happen, though.
I rolled my eyes at Dash as I went back to drinking my coffee and he let me go without another word.
What he'd said had bothered me because I thought I had been acting like I thought this was my home, because I truly felt like it was. Yeah, I still called it Dash's cottage and not our cottage, and probably never would because it really was his. I could live here, and feel at home, and still refer to it as his home instead of mine, that didn't bother me one bit. The problem was that I was a neat and tidy person who put things back where they belonged the moment I was done using them, and I had always been this way. Because I'd had to be, or Vivian would get upset and rage at me. I didn't know how to be any other way, it was ingrained into my very being. Doing something like skipping making my bed for the day even made me uncomfortable. I thought if any of them would understand this about me it would be Dash, but apparently, he didn't get it. Or, maybe he did and that was why he was making a point to bring it up and point it out to me, because he wanted me to feel like I didn't need to worry about those things.
Between worrying over what Dash had said to me, and feeling like I wasn't giving him enough out of our relationship, and wondering if I should put some of my clothes in his bedroom in order to make him feel more secure, and speculating as to where Rain had run off to and if he planned on coming back, my head was a total mess, and I'd completely forgotten about Damien coming over to get me later that night. Which was probably for the best, because I really did not need one more thing to stress over.
I spent the afternoon cleaning with Dash and the twins. It flew by, and before I knew it, Dash was telling me to go upstairs and get ready for my date.
My date with freaking Damien.
I was terrified.
Chapter Sixteen
I swiped across my eyelashes with the mascara wand I held in my hand. With each swipe of the wand, my lashes went from a dirty blonde to black, making my green eyes stand out on my face and pop.
Like most girls, I liked makeup, but I usually didn't wear much of it. I usually never wore coverup, because I'd been blessed with a decent complexion and didn't need to hide anything. No acne or weird blemishes on my face to hide. Now I had a wicked scar on my cheek, but I didn't bother trying to hide that. I wasn't embarrassed or ashamed of it, so I didn't try to cover it up. One of the guys had bought me a bunch of coverup and left it out on the bathroom counter and I was guessing it was Damien. I swept it aside and left it in a drawer. I would stick to what worked for me and call it good, I wasn't going to change just because I had a new scar and wore it on my face. If someone said something to me about it, I would tell them to look someplace else if it bothered them so much. I swiped across my eyelash one last time before stuffing the wand back into the tube and turning it until it was shut all the way, so it wouldn't dry out and be of no use to me anymore.
I put my forearms into the counter and leaned closer to the mirror, closer to my reflection in the mirror. My eyeliner was straight and on point. My mascara looked good. My lips were shiny with gloss.
I puckered my lips, and blew a kiss at myself in the mirror before straightening up and going for the toilet paper. I pulled off a few sheets and wiped off my lip gloss.
This was stupid. Why I even bothered to put on makeup, I did not know. Because it was Damien, I guessed.
I had more important things to do than go out with Damien. Or, I thought I did. Everyone else thought differently.
Rain hadn’t been back yet. The guys didn’t think this was a big deal, and told me I needed to have patience. I thought they were wrong. I thought I needed to sit home and worry needlessly over it, and await his return like a freaking fool.
Alright, so maybe they had been right, and I didn’t need to be here. Maybe I was just nervous about being alone with Damien for the first time, and projecting it onto everything else around me. That didn’t change the fact that Rain had disappeared on me and been gone all freaking day now.
“Knock it off, Ariel,” I whispered fiercely to my reflection in the mirror. “You’re going to forget about Rain for the night. You’re going to forget about Tyson and Annabell and all the other things that are threatening to destroy your happiness. Just for one little night, you’re going to let everything go, live in the now and have a good night with Damien.”
Right. Easier said than done.
But, I’d be damned sure I would give it my best effort. That didn’t mean I wouldn’t fail miserably, but it never hurt to try. It might be easier if I knew what we were doing. I think that was part of my stress and worry, and had a whole lot to do with why I wanted to make excuses and stay home tonight. Rain would either come back or he wouldn’t. Dash had been right when he told me I couldn’t force relationships with people and not to even bother trying. He also told me that he thought Rain was the lucky one for getting to see me, and that we wouldn’t know whether I was lucky or not until later on after he’d been around for awhile and we got to see the real Rain Kimber. That was, if he even came back at all. It had been harsh, but sweet, and no one else had had the balls to say something like that to me. I understood where Dash was coming from and I tried to take his words to heart.
Needless to say, I had failed at this endeavor and now I was sitting alone in the bathroom, staring at my own stupid reflection and worrying about things I didn’t have control over.
A knock on the door sounded and I jumped as I let out a small squeak. I covered my mouth with my hands and started at my too large eyes in the mirror.
I looked ridiculous, and was thankful I had at least put away the mascara already or I might have put my eye out with the dang wand.
A giggle escaped me, and I tightened my hands over my mouth to try and keep the sound in.
“Ariel,” Dash called through the door. “Damien is here for you. I made him wait downstairs, but I don’t think he will stay down there for long. He said something about wanting to get you dressed, and I didn’t think you’d want him digging through your closet, so I made him wait downstairs.”
That made me stop laughing and want to freak out again.
“Ariel,” Dash called out my name again.
I removed my hands from my mouth, swept my makeup off the counter and watched it fall and land in the drawer that had been e
mptied out for me to put stuff in. It hadn’t even been emptied out by me. Dash was the best kind of roommate for a girl to have.
Not only did he clear out room for me because he wanted me to feel like I was at home in his home, but he knew me well enough to know that there was no freaking way I wanted to be stuck with Damien while he dug around through my closet. Dash was smart like that, and he knew that clothes and material objects weren't my thing.
I hadn't quite figured out what my thing was yet, but I was certain it was not, nor would it ever be, clothes. Unless they were about vampires or said cool things about Jon Snow. Or told people to go float themselves because The 100 kicked some serious ass. Okay, so maybe I did like clothes, but only when I was picking them out for myself and they were about things I enjoyed. I highly doubted Damien would appreciate my taste in clothing; he only wore expensive brand name things, and most of my t-shirts and tanks I had gotten off of Amazon had cost me less than twenty bucks a piece. Based off of some of the price tags that had been left on the things he'd bought for me, I assumed he'd turn his nose up at my twenty-dollar t-shirt even if it did say something cool on it.
Maybe if I got him one based off of a horror movie he loved he might think differently? Probably not.
I was stalling for time. Again.
Damn.
My time was up, and I knew it. I had to face Damien, and I hoped to all that was holy that he wouldn't think my outfit lame or inappropriate for our nights adventure. It was very tempting to just lock the door and hide out in the bathroom for the rest of the night.
I left the bathroom before I could think on it anymore and talk myself out of it.
Abel and Addison were coming up the stairs. Abel was walking backwards, and they were carrying a large, thin box between them.
"What's in the box?" I asked curiously. And why were they carrying it upstairs when the only places to leave anything up here were Dash's bedroom and my own, and Dash didn't like for people to go into his bedroom. Which was somewhat amusing to me, because I now knew he'd like for me to move in there with him. I guess, like most things with the guys, I was the exception to the rule.
