by J. C. Allen
“You let him stay up late?”
I laughed when Mom turned around in shock, as if I was robbing the place. I didn’t realize I had such quiet footsteps.
“We’re watching that new superhero movie. Which one is it?” she asked him.
“Spiderman, Gramma. You forgot like three times.”
Michael sighed and shook his head. He could act like a real old man sometimes, just like his dad.
“Okay, Spiderman. How was the club?” Mom asked me.
Once again, I’m reduced to lying. Because what am I going to do, tell her and Michael that a member was murdered by someone on Michael’s side of the family?
I smiled at her with sadness as I noticed she was wearing one of dad’s sweaters.
“Good,” I said. “It was busy.”
I had a feeling that Mom could tell I was lying, but by this point, Mom knew well enough when to let things alone. This was, unfortunately, one of them.
“I drove Grace home. She’s going to hang out with Michael and I tomorrow.”
“Really?” he said, taking a break from his movie.
“Yeah. We’ll have breakfast, go to the park or something.”
He smiled and then made a face with a dramatic pause.
“I hate the outdoors!”
Both my Mom and I had to laugh at that.
“Something else then.”
We went back and forth a bit before I eventually laid down the law and said we had to head home. Once I got back, though, aside from some quick messages to Jaxson and Zeke, I spent most of my time thinking about Grace.
I hate how she lived in that place, how she felt like she was forced to. I wanted to help her… but she fucking wouldn’t let me, and I couldn’t force her. I knew that I would be distracted with her living here anyway, right down the hall from me.
And yet, all I could think about was her sexy, full body right within my reach. Her plush, cherry lips—I could kiss those all day and never tire. My dick probably would be from being so fucking hard all the time, but that was a problem I could manage.
I wanted to take care of her, help her, and have her.
But I couldn’t.
“Wake up! Wake up!”
I groaned loudly and swatted at the hands slapping my face. This kid is crazy. No wonder Simon and Rosella went out of town.
“Ugh what…”
I rolled onto my back, blinded by the bright sun. I threw my hand over my eyes, but Michael only tugged them away.
“Come on, you said we would do something fun today with Aunt Grace.”
“At a reasonable time,” I muttered as I rolled onto my stomach to check the time. Jesus, not a minute past eight. Fuck me.
“You partied too hard.”
What else could I do but give a morning laugh to that comment?
“I didn’t. I just don’t have enough energy as you.”
I sat up and yawned, trying my best to kick start my day. It was pretty damn difficult.
“Start yourself some breakfast okay? I’ll be out in a minute.”
“Okay. But don’t go back to sleep.”
The kid even wagged his finger for good measure before scurrying out of the room. I smiled despite being woken up early. Honestly, I was sincerely glad he had been added to our lives. I had a lot of fun with him. He even made me grow up a little faster than I thought I would—at least, that’s what I called waking up early. I used to think I didn’t want any kids… but now, I knew that I did.
After my morning routine, I threw on a shirt to meet Michael in the living room, who was already watching cartoons with a huge bowl of cereal. I was pretty sure he used one of the mixing bowls.
“Hey bud, what’d you make me?”
I ruffled his hair on the way and he pushed me away with a guilty scowl.
“Nothing.”
I laughed and mixed up a protein shake in the kitchen while taking my vitamins. I told him I was going to get a quick workout in my garage, which he barely processed as his show returned from commercials.
I then proceeded to try and work out the thoughts and the feelings from the day before out of my system, but it didn’t go very well. I kept thinking about what had happened with Grace, what we had said, and what was to come. She’s going to see me today. You can’t dodge that all day. You can’t lift that out.
Even when I grunted at the top of my lungs during my lifts to try and get it out, it did no good. All it did was get weird looks from Michael, who wondered if I had made a mess in the garage. I had, just not the kind of mess he was thinking of.
When I finished, sitting on my bench, I knew I couldn’t dodge the questions any longer. I had to call her.
I picked up my phone and dialed her number.
“Hello?”
Her voice was soft and thick like honey. I combed my hair back with a nervous laugh.
“Hey, how are you?” I asked.
“I’m fine, why wouldn’t I be?”
Oh, damn. Someone did not wake up in a good mood today.
Then again, think of all the shit she’s going through right now.
“Because… because of the eviction notice maybe?”
I chuckled nervously. I felt like I was walking on eggshells right now.
“Oh. Right. There isn’t much I can do about it, so… I guess I’m fine.”
I still felt like I was on eggshells. I had no fucking idea what to say.
So I just went with what I had said the night before.
“Well my offer still stands, Grace. I mean, I worry about you, that place is sketchy.”
“I have lived here for a while, Matthew. I’m fine. And you don’t need to worry about me. We barely know each other anyway.”
Jesus. OK, super cautious time. Be careful.
“That doesn’t mean I don’t care about you, Grace.”
I just hoped my show of empathy would pay off.
“Thank you.”
It was all I got from her, but at least she finally sounded like she appreciated what I had said.
“So… um, you want to have breakfast with Michael and I? I’m taking him to an arcade center after.”
Even though we had planned it and agreed to it yesterday… I felt like I was asking her on a date, as if in high school. She paused for a while.
“I have a lot to do today.”
Grace… come on, we made this deal yesterday.
“Like what? You work at the club, and we don’t need a bartender tonight. Plus, you said you would go yesterday.”
“But I—”
I had some level of patience, but when I was getting deliberately stonewalled, I lost that patience. I didn’t “snap” but I did drop some pretenses of being super friendly and just got direct.
“Michael asked about you. He misses you.”
“I…”
Grace…
“Okay. I’ll come.”
She didn’t sound thrilled, but I didn’t really care how she sounded on the phone. I just cared that she had actually agreed to meet up.
“Great, we’ll pick you up in an hour or so.”
I heard her laugh, and it wasn’t a friendly laugh.
“How are you going to do that when you drive a motorcycle?” she asks with a sarcastic tone.
I decided two could play that game and laughed back at her.
“I’ve got a car, angel.”
“Oh.”
Yeah, “oh” is right. She was so weird, but I loved it.
We hung up shortly after, and I walked back inside and tell Michael to get ready. I offered to help, but he reminded me he was capable of bathing and clothing himself.
I went my own way and even took extra time getting dressed after I showered to put cologne in the right places, wear my good jeans and a shirt I haven’t worn in a while, something blue, and find my cut. I laced up my canvas sneakers since I didn’t have to get on my bike.
“Let’s go bud.”
I walked Michael into the garage and took the cover of
f the car, an Impala. As the garage door opened, sunlight streamed across the black car to make it look slick. I smiled at the perfect paint job that I had done, chrome rim covers and guards over the grill to complete the look.
“Wow, what’s this?” Michael said, sounding like he had just discovered the world’s coolest car—which it damn well was.
“My car, you like it?”
“I love it! I didn’t know you had a car.”
“I forget sometimes too,” I said with a chuckle as I backed out of the garage, heading to Grace’s place.
“Dad always drives his truck around.”
“You don’t like it?” I asked him.
“I like the bike most of the time, but Mom won’t let me ride on it.”
Probably for the best. But I’m not going to admit that.
“That’s because your mom is a prude.”
“A what?”
“Nothing.”
Driving a car made the road seem so different, I had to remind myself how to get to Grace’s place. We eventually pulled up to the shady apartment complex without incident, though.
I looked up from the windshield. It still smelled like the leather treatment I put in the car, giving it new car smell, but my breath fell short at a new thought—Grace possibly not having a place to live. I texted her that I had arrived with some emojis, but her response to me was curt and without emojis. I don’t think she’s being weird anymore. I think she’s just being difficult.
I couldn’t tell if she just suddenly didn’t like me anymore or was nervous about how to talk to me. Either way, it sucked. I wanted to bring her out of her shell a bit, but that might prove difficult. She had too many guards up for sure, and I wasn’t good at lowering them with nuance and kindness.
It wasn’t exactly a good combination, but it was the combination we were going to go with anyways.
After a few minutes, I saw her walking down the sidewalk. I stared after her with awe. She looked damned beautiful—sexy as hell.
Her light jeans were tight and conformed to all her curves, right around her hips especially. I wished I could see her from the back. Her honey colored hair was up in a bow with some strands hanging loose down her back. It was so long it reached her waist. I imagined how she might look naked while she rode me backwards or forwards.
Shit, I am in for it today.
8
Grace
As soon as Matthew had left, I wished he were still back here with me so I could be kissing him again and be less afraid to take the next step.
I kept wishing I wasn’t so weird around him. He had noticed it already, and it was mortifying. No matter how much I had told myself before to not be so weird and bizarre, it seemed like I just couldn’t help myself.
But it seemed it would take years and maybe a few actual relationships to change myself. I wished I had something to look back on before seeing Matthew again, like that I knew how to talk to him like a normal person or maybe just initiate sex without falling over myself and ending up alone. It sucks.
I had woken up thinking about him—naturally—like every other day, and just reminiscing of the night before had me smiling like a giddy school girl. Despite everything going down in my life, I remembered his kiss, wishing I could just roll over and have more of him. If I took him up on his offer to live with him…
I don’t know how much I could handle knowing he is asleep down the hall, or naked, wet in the shower…I don’t know.
But I do know it’s pretty damn tempting.
I then ate dry cereal for breakfast and sat on my couch to crunch all my numbers to try and see if there was some miraculous way I could pull enough money out of my ass to save myself from eviction. Even with all my half-used credit cards, I would still owe thousands of dollars. Frankly, I didn’t want to live here anymore anyway.
I supposed my parents were a phone call away, but they weren’t an option. If I hadn’t gone to them by now, I wasn’t going to go to them at all.
And then, out of the blue, Matthew called. The call went… awkwardly. He tried to get me to come out, tried to tell me he cared about me, but when I heard him say that he cared about me, I immediately got the instinctive reaction he was just lying. No one had ever cared about me or said it quite like that.
I found it hard to believe. I mean, I wanted to believe it, but with everything in my past, it just felt physically hard to believe it.
So much so, that I suddenly found myself lying about having things to do. I was trying to prevent myself from getting hurt before I actually did get hurt, even if that was no way to live.
It was only his mentioning of Michael that got me to agree, and even then, the voice in my head telling me Matthew didn’t really care about me was pretty present. I had no idea why the voice was there—Matthew had, after all, offered me his place to live and a whole host of other things. He’d given me a job. He’d taken me home the night of the wedding. He’d comforted me last night.
Like I said, I’m pretty fucking weird. At least I’m aware of it.
Strange as it was, though, once I hung up having agreed to meet him, it was like I had no choice but to, and so my concerns with seeing him and the lies slowly dissolved. I even did my makeup for the first time in a while, making sure to really take my time and not just throw foundation on. My lip gloss was faint, perhaps thinking of possible kissing. I even did my eyebrows.
I told myself I looked cute. I am cute. I wore my tightest pair of jeans to prove it, although I began to think I may have had to eat light that morning so I didn’t bust out of my jeans. Not that Matthew wouldn’t like that.
After he texted me that he had arrived, I headed down, slinging my purse over my shoulder. I spotted him and Michael by a sexy looking black car, one of the classics. He’s even hotter the way he is leaning against the door.
“Hey Grace,” he said.
His grin blinded me like the sun. I watched his eyes rove over me and smile internally at clearly wearing the right thing. Something about him seemed a little… off, though not in a bad way. He just didn’t have his usual confidence bordering on arrogance to him.
I said hello back and studied his outfit. His shirt was dark blue, like his eyes. The cut, of course, was sexy as hell on him. He looked hotter than sin, the way it conformed to his muscles and frame. His jeans were faded but not as worn as others. I was surprised he is in canvas shoes instead of those heavy boots. He looks like he did… back in high school. I grinned at the memory.
Now just don’t let your weirdness ruin your chance with him, Grace.
I was about to say something else, but then Michael got out of the car and ran right to me. And as much as I was having a moment with Matthew, he wasn’t the reason I had agreed to come here.
“Grace!”
Michael ran into me. I crouched down to hug him, smiling widely.
“Hi hun, you look so handsome. I’ve missed you.”
I swarmed his cheek in kisses. He pulled back, resisting my kisses, and I smoothed his hair down. He was dressed like his uncle in jeans and a blue tee shirt with some sort of graphic design on it. The good uncle, not the crazy, deranged one.
“I missed you too, I forced Uncle Matt to let you come out with us.”
I laughed at Michael’s perhaps too blunt honesty.
“Wow, you didn’t have to force me,” Matthew interjected.
“Well, I’m happy to hang out with y’all.”
I definitely talk to Michael easier than I talk to Matthew. That’s sad. I can talk to kids better than adults.
I should put that in my dating profile.
Matthew buckled him back in his seat after opening my door for me. I appreciated the chivalry, though thankfully I didn’t make it weird with some off-kilter comment.
His leather seats felt like sex under my thighs, or at least what I imagined sex in a car to feel like. My hands ran across the ribbed leather as he took off. Watching him drive might be an aphrodisiac. If Michael weren’t in the car, I might
have done something crazy.
I looked at Matthew from the corner of my eye. His thighs were as powerful in this seat as they were on the bike; his jeans were tight around his crotch for obvious reasons, and he kept one hand on the shift and the other loosely around the steering wheel. I could take multiple pictures if I didn’t look crazy.
Yeah, that would definitely peg me as a weirdo, don’t do that. Just take mental snapshots.
I talked to Michael on the way because it remained much easier than trying to talk to Matthew and not look stupid. Michael told me about all the fun he had been having with his uncle, putting me at significant ease. I was worried about how he would take to being in the house with only a Kinsmen, most especially one that wasn’t his father—most especially not Jaxson, since Jaxson had Isabelle and a little more age on him—but as it turned out, I didn’t have much to worry about. As is often the case with Matthew.
Before I knew it, though, we were pulling up to a diner I had never seen before.
“What’s this place?”
“My favorite place to eat.”
He winked at me and got out of the car. In the time I needed to gather my purse and phone, he was on my side and opens the door. I glanced up at him and smiled; he smiled back, making me feel giddy.
“I love this place!”
Michael was… rather enthusiastic and ran to the door before us. At least Matthew was being a good babysitter by all accounts.
We caught up and took a booth in the diner. Even as I tried to give myself something else to do—namely, ordering my breakfast—I was distracted by the man sitting in front of me, clearly staring at me, not feeling especially self-conscious about it. It didn’t help my cause that Michael had started playing games on my phone and was all but gone.
Matthew’s leg rubbed mine. I could feel it go up between my legs, clenching. I had to force my legs away from his before I made an awkward scene in the restaurant. He chuckled so only I hear—he knew exactly what he was doing. Looks like that little nervousness he had before is gone.
Can’t exactly say the same for myself!
“Uncle Matt!”
“Hm?” Matthew said, leaning into Michael.
“Do you open the door for Grace because you love her?”
