Shameless

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Shameless Page 8

by Teresa Mummert


  “So what?”

  “So what do you think now, you know, now that we’re mates.”

  I choked on my own spit as I clasped my hand over my mouth.

  “I make you want to be sick?” he asked, and when my throat was finally clear, I laughed.

  “I think you mean friends.”

  He shook his head before running his fingers through his hair. “Right. You Yanks need to be much closer to be considered mates.” His eyes traveled down to my lips before making eye contact again. “Give it time.” He had winked at me before his game face returned and we continued playing, and I was thankful because I swore you could see my shirt moving from how rapidly my heart was thudding.

  “Not a chance.”

  “I’ll take those odds.”

  I bit my teeth into my lower lip to keep my smile from spreading.

  ***

  We played for hours until the sun began to shine through the windows. We’d polished off his bottle of liquor, and both of us could barely keep our eyes open.

  “I think I should go.” I stifled a yawn. He rubbed his eyes, blinking several times as he struggled to keep them open.

  “I’m feeling right knackered.”

  “That’s okay. I can walk by myself. I have pepper spray in my bag.” I got up from the couch and stretched, bowing my back as I let my eyes fall closed briefly. When I opened them, I noticed Lucas staring at me.

  “No. It’s not safe for you to be out alone at this hour and you’re legless. Just stay. You can sleep here.” He stood up in front of me, and I was now eye level with his muscular chest. I couldn’t keep my eyes from wandering over the intricate designs. I wondered if they were things he’d drawn and what they all meant.

  “So this was all some elaborate plan to get me in bed with you?” My words slurred and I shook my head to help wake myself up a little.

  “Who said anything about my bed? Losers sleep on the couch.”

  “I am not a loser! I hadn’t played that game in like three years,” I argued, not able to gauge the level of my voice.

  “Fine. You win. You can sleep with me if it will stop you from screeching.”

  I had smiled before I thought over what I’d just agreed to. “Wait, no. I’ll sleep on the couch... the big one.”

  He rolled his eyes as he rubbed his palm against his jaw, laughing quietly. “I’ll get you a blanket.”

  I followed him back the hallway to his room as he grabbed his pillows and a gray blanket. I had assumed he would sleep back here, but with both pillows tucked under his arm, he clearly was going to keep me company. I wanted to say something, but anything was better than having to find my way back to the dorm. I followed him to the living room, his comforter in my hands.

  “Can you get the light?” He asked, yawning through his words. I flicked off the switch and cursed at myself under my breath as I slid under the covers on the large couch. Lucas sprawled out on the smaller love seat, his feet hanging over the armrest, his arm over his face. I looked over the ridges of his stomach, illuminated by the street light that was shining through the cracks of the blinds. I noticed the necklace he’d said had belonged to his sister wasn’t resting on his chest. I’d wanted to ask him why he wore it, but it didn’t feel like I knew him well enough to ask him something so personal. My mother had always warned me that you never spoke of politics or religion with people you wanted to keep in your life.

  “I’m not a piece of meat, Henley.” His lips twisted up in a grin as I dropped my head to my pillow. It smelled just like him, a mixture of Polo Sport and sweat with a hint of liquor.

  “Lucas?” I called out to him.

  “Don’t tell me you’re scared of the dark, love,” he mumbled.

  “Of course not. Darkness is just the absence of light. It’s what is lurking in the dark that’s frightening.”

  “Like me?” He chuckled.

  “I wasn’t scared of you,” I shot back. “Why did you invite me over here?” I asked, and he was quiet for a moment making me wish I’d not said a word. But I wasn't like those other girls he hung out with. In fact, I didn’t even know who I was anymore.

  “I told you. It gets quiet here. I’m not used to always being alone.”

  “You miss being back in London?” It was a stupid question. Why wouldn’t he miss all of his family and friends? It was only a matter of time before he was on a plane back home.

  “I miss my sister and my mum.”

  I pushed up on my elbow and squinted my eyes as I struggled to see him. “I wouldn’t have pegged you as a momma’s boy,” I teased. “How old is your sister?”

  He had laughed before I heard him moving around, trying to get comfortable on the small sofa. “Her names Amelia and she is seven hours older than I am,” he replied as if that fact was a constant source of bickering between them.

  “Twins?” I tried to wrap my head around the fact that there was another one of him running around this world.

  “No. Just a father who couldn’t keep it in his trousers. I didn’t even meet her until I was thirteen years old. But it was like there was this automatic connection. D’you know what I mean? She lived a few streets from where I grew up.”

  I laid back on the pillow trying to think about what it would be like to find out I had a sibling somewhere that I could be that close to. It would be nice to know I had someone else in the world. Gigi was the closest thing I had to that type of person, and I didn’t know what I would do without her.

  “You remind me of her. She’s a smartass. Doesn’t take any of my shit and calls me out on it. You’d like her,” he added before the room fell silent again.

  “Why didn’t she come here to college?”

  “She was supposed to. We’d planned it for years, but at the last minute, she decided not to go to uni. I was gutted, but I knew I’d regret it if I didn’t come.”

  “Why? I couldn’t imagine leaving home to spend four years in a country where you don’t know anyone.”

  He sighed loudly. “Journey to the truth.” I thought of the painting of the ship on his wall and what he was searching for. “Who said I don’t know anyone?”

  “I just assumed.”

  “You do that a lot. What made you choose Shame U?”

  I cringed remembering that Shamus Thorton College wasn’t even on my list when I first began dreaming of my future. “It’s less than an hour from home. My mom lives outside of Savannah, and she’s had some problems, so I didn’t want to be too far away. But they have a really nice library which is perfect for an English Lit major.”

  “Is that a clever way of saying you’re a book nerd?” He teased.

  “Laugh all you want but I feel sorry for anyone who hasn’t read Among the Flames by Lya Lively.”

  “Don’t you have any brothers or sisters that can help out with your mum?”

  “I’m an only child.”

  He laughed. “That explains a lot.”

  I took my pillow and swung it out at arm's length to hit him with it, and his laughter died down.

  “I had a little brother, but he died when he was just eight months old.” It wasn’t the beginning of my mother’s downfall, but it made a few random bouts with anger and depression become a daily occurrence. I wiped my hand over my eye and blinked back tears that had begun to form. I wasn’t going to cry like a drunken idiot in front of this guy.

  “I’m sorry,” he sighed as I swallowed against the lump forming in my throat.

  “So what about your dad? What does he think of you coming over here?” I asked as I slid the pillow back under my head and curled up on my side.

  “He doesn’t know,” he replied.

  “Why not?”

  “I didn’t tell him.”

  “Oh.”

  “What about your dad?” He asked.

  My tongue ran out over my dry lips. “He’s traveling abroad for business.” It wasn’t technically a lie, but an easier version of the truth to swallow. I’d learned that any painful memory
was easier to choke down if you drowned it in something sweet.

  “Must be nice.”

  I sighed, shaking my head against the pillow. “Yeah.”

  “Let’s get some sleep. I have an early class tomorrow... or today.”

  His breathing became deeper, and I relaxed knowing he had fallen asleep even though he looked ridiculously uncomfortable on the small couch. As I drifted off, lost in his scent, my dreams were plagued with us on the dancefloor at the bar, our limbs tangled together as our sweat soaked bodies writhed against each other.

  ***

  I awoke the next day at around three in the afternoon, kicking off the blankets and sighing loudly as the cool air from the ceiling fan brought me back to reality.

  The sun was shining brightly through the windows, and it took me a moment to place where I was. The living room was empty, and I sat up, stretching. I had gotten wasted and spent the night with Lucas. My hands went down to my stomach, and I sighed with relief when I felt that I had still been wearing clothing... they just weren’t my clothing. I squeezed my eyes closed as I pieced together the memories of the night before. We’d left the bar, we played video games, and drank entirely too much. Lucas had been a perfect gentleman, even after I accused him of being some sort of deviant.

  I heard some shuffling down the hall, so I walked back toward his room, but the bed was empty. Great. Maybe I can call a cab to take me back to my dorm. I trudged back to the living room to find my purse.

  “It’s kind of late for a walk of shame,” The shorter, blonde guy Lucas had been at the bar with said from the fridge, his basketball shorts hanging low on his hips and his bare chest was absent of any ink.

  “It’s not like that,” I said under my breath. He looked back at me smiling, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

  “Don’t be such a tosser,” Lucas called from behind me. He had just gotten out of the shower, and he was only wearing a towel wrapped loosely around his waist. My eyes immediately were drawn to the sexy V-shaped muscles that led down below the edge of the fabric where the swirling ink from his tattoos also disappeared. “Hungry?” Lucas asked with an eyebrow raised, and I realized I had been staring at him like an idiot.

  “Yeah,” I stuttered.

  “Noah Walker, this is Henley –” He motioned back to me as he dug through the fridge.

  “Henley Brooks,” I chimed in.

  Noah glanced back at me with a half-cocked smile on his clean-shaven face. “I think she’s hungry for a little sausage if you know what I mean.”

  “You really are a tosser,” I snapped back, not entirely sure what the insult meant, but it seemed fitting. Lucas stood up straight and was glaring over at his roommate.

  “What do you mean little?”

  “Just a joke guys,” he replied with his hands in the air, but it was obvious something else was bothering him as his eyes cut to Lucas before he walked out of the kitchen. Lucas’ gaze turned to me, and the corner of his mouth turned up in a proud smile.

  “Don’t mind him. He always gets a bit stroppy when I bring girls home.” He rounded the counter and pulled open one of the cupboards as he searched through stacks of cans.

  “I can’t say I blame him. It must be frustrating having a revolving door in your own place.”

  “Judge not lest ye be judged.” Lucas rolled his eyes as he held up a can of baked beans.

  “Gross. Don’t you have eggs or something?”

  “I was gonna make some toast too.”

  “I’ll just have coffee. Or do you only drink tea?” I replied sarcastically as I sank down on one of the stools at the counter. The legs were uneven, and I threw my hands out to the side to maintain my balance, earning me another headshake and adorable smile from Lucas.

  “We aren’t wild animals. Of course, we have coffee... somewhere.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  LUCAS

  I smacked my hand on the top of the old coffee maker, cursing under my breath.

  “You don’t even know how to make coffee?” Henley scoffed as she rounded the counter and nudged me out of the way with her hip. I took a step back, admiring the view of her from behind with her tousled hair and my oversized t-shirt that looked like she was drowning in. The neck was hanging off one of her shoulders, exposing her smooth skin and she had rolled up the top of the boxers to shorten them, revealing most of her sexy thighs.

  Her feet were bare, and she stood up on her pink painted toes to dig the bag of coffee out of the cabinet. She glanced back over her shoulder narrowing her eyes at me.

  “What are you staring at?” she asked, a playful smirk playing on her naturally pink lips.

  “You,” I replied as I leaned back against the counter, drumming my fingers as I continued to stare.

  “Well, stop. It’s creepy.” Her head shook as she grabbed two mugs and waited for our beverages to finish brewing.

  “I could get used to this.”

  “What?”

  “Having my coffee made for me in the morning.”

  I didn’t miss the way her body stiffened. “Well, good luck finding a woman who wants to put up with your antics. I won’t ever be waiting hand and foot on some guy.”

  “Don’t tell me you don’t want to be married?” I laughed.

  “I dunno,” she shrugged as my t-shirt slipped lower off her shoulder. “I mean, I used to want it all... husband, kids, the white picket fence.” She waved her hand in the air. “But I think I’d be better off getting a couple of cats and living alone.”

  “Those poor cats.”

  Henley spun around, tossing a pack of coffee filters at me. I ducked, letting them fly by and bounce off the wall as I laughed. “What the hell?”

  “Be thankful it wasn’t a mug,” she shot back with a playful smirk. “So what about you? You want to be married?”

  “I want to be happy,” I replied, remembering what she had told me she wanted for her future.

  Glancing back over her shoulder, she eyed me for a moment before grabbing a mug of steaming coffee and handing it to me before holding up her own between us. “To happiness.”

  “Cheers,” I replied as we clinked the ceramic cups together. I took a small sip, burning my lip and wincing at the taste.

  “What?”

  “It tastes like tar.” Sitting my mug on the counter I pulled open the fridge, grabbing the milk. I poured a splash into my coffee and held it up for her. She nodded once, holding her cup out for me to add some for her. “Look at us working together.”

  She rolled her eyes but as she raised the mug to take a sip I could see her cheeks rise from a smile. I leaned back against the counter, groaning from the late night of drinking.

  “Do you have classes today?” she asked as her eyes drifted down over my chest, eyeing my tattoos.

  “A few,” I shrugged. “But I believe we already slept through them.”

  “Don’t say it like that.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like we slept together.” Her cheeks began to turn pink, and I hid my smirk behind my mug.

  “We did sleep together.” I made a face, my coffee still bitter. Grabbing a bear shaped container of honey from the counter, I poured some into my coffee before holding it up for her. Her nose scrunched up before she nodded and I added a drizzle to her drink.

  “I’m not an expert, but I’m pretty sure that would require us at least being on the same couch.”

  “I guess we’ll have to try again,” I replied with a wink as her eyes narrowed.

  “I’ll pass.”

  I ran my hand over my hair, scattering tiny water droplets. “Already in a committed relationship?”

  “Keeping my options open,” she said as her lips are twisted up in a smile, so slight it would have rivaled the Mona Lisa.

  “Are you a virgin?”

  She choked on her sip of coffee, patting her hand against her chest as she struggled to clear her throat. “None of your business.”

  “And here I thought we was becoming f
riends,” I replied, shaking my head.

  “Were.”

  “So we’re not anymore?”

  “No,” She shook her head out of frustration. “You said was. It’s were.”

  “Are you taking the piss?”

  She groaned loudly. “No. I’m not a virgin.” Her eyes fell to the floor, a flicker of sadness passing over them before her expression went blank and I got the feeling it wasn’t to protect me from the information but to rid her mind off the chaos from her memories.

  “Something you want to talk about?” I asked, and she blanched, the color draining from her cheeks.

  “Never.”

  Her answer caught me off guard. “I should get dressed.” I sat my mug down on the island and walked back to my bedroom to pull on some clothing. Her response shouldn’t have bothered me. I had no right to care. She was no one to me, and if I was honest, I’d been inside of more women than I could count. But it was nagging at me, scratching inside of my brain as I tried to picture the type of guy that Henley trusted; trusted with her heart, because I knew for her it had to have been more than physical.

  Then my irritation turned to irrational anger because whoever he was, he caused her to be untrusting of anyone. She had questioned my every motive for the most mundane actions like walking her home.

  There was some asshole out there who’d seen every part of her, and I wasn’t talking about swaths of flesh tangled in sheets, I was talking about the deepest parts of her soul. Had he violated her and left her broken, leaving her for someone else to pick up the pieces? Or was there more to her story than she let on? Every time I got her to open up about herself, it only left me with more questions. She was like a puzzle with all of the pieces painted black, impossible to figure out.

  I grabbed my sketch pad and a piece of charcoal and began to pull long, angry lines across the stark page as it smudged my fingers. I was so caught up in my thoughts that I didn’t hear the door protest against the hinges, whining as it slid open.

  “Did you forget about me?” Henley asked as she stood in the doorway, illuminated by the hallway light giving her the illusion of a halo.

  “I think that would be impossible.” I turned my attention back to the paper. “You never stop talking.” I glanced back up at her to see her struggling to suppress a smirk.

 

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