An overtly annoying ringtone, my annoying ringtone, wakes me the next morning. Last night took a toll on my lightweight head. I grab my phone off the small bedside table, wincing at the pain the small movement causes. Seeing another UNKNOWN caller, I curse. A press of a button and the device goes gloriously silent.
Just as my eyelids start to grow heavy, an insistent knocking startles me. It’s unlike any other knocking I’ve ever heard. It sounds like it’s from a song actually. A Britney Spears’ song to be exact, circa 2000-and-late.
Grumbling across the room, I throw open the door only to find a takeout bag held up in front of my face.
I snatch it out of the abnormally large hand holding it and scowl.
“Stop bringing me food.” On my way back to bed, I toss the bag on the counter, mumbling, “I can buy my own breakfast,” then fall face first onto the sheets I kicked off last night. I was overheated after the bathroom incident and couldn’t handle anything touching my skin. Anything other than Coty’s hands that is. Or mouth.
I can’t hide the smirk playing at my lips as I turn my head to the side, watching Beckett as he follows.
“Hey,” he says, offended, grabbing the bag back. He pulls out a sugary doughnut, then proceeds to eat the whole thing in two bites. Mouth smacking obnoxiously, his eyes scan my studio. The couple steps it takes him and his massive legs to reach my bed is about how long it takes to check out my apartment so it works out perfectly.
I glance over his freshly showered appearance as he sits against my headboard beside me. He’s dressed for work in dark blue mechanic pants and a stained white shirt with holes scattered throughout.
“How are you feelin’ today?” I ask, breaking the awkward silence. “I would’ve thought you’d still be in bed.” I try to wiggle my eyebrows but one is smashed against the bed so I give up, letting my suggestive tone do the heavy hinting instead.
“Ha! I don’t let chicks stay over. They can play all they want but they gotta leave me never wanting more. Of anything,” he adds, using his own indicative tone.
No suggestion needed, I scold, “You’re a pig.”
Mock horror covering his face, he scoots down to tickle me. Within an embarrassing amount of time, I’m laughing to the point of tears and screaming, “mercy,” but the jerk shows none. Beckett continues his ruthless attack, so bringing my foot up between us, I kick him square in the stomach with all my strength. Wide eyed, he falls off the bed with a giant thud. Wiping my eyes, I poke my head over the side, nervous he might’ve left a Beckett-sized hole in my floor when he fell through to the apartment below. That would totally kill my chance of getting my deposit back. Fortunately, I find him lying on his back with his hands folded over his chest.
“Marry me.”
I roll my eyes and drop a pillow on his face.
“You’re feisty.” He shakes the pillow off as he stands, climbing next to me again. “I figured you were but damn, Coty’s got his work cut out for him.”
“Coty doesn’t have shit.”
Beckett just looks me in the eye before saying, “Uh huh.”
Him flopping onto his back makes the whole bed bounce and I grab the headboard to keep from flying off. On my back, we lie side by side, staring up at the ceiling in companionable silence.
A few minutes pass before he rolls his head to look at me and I do the same.
“You like him?”
“Who?”
He frowns.
“It’s,” I start, then turn my head, facing the ceiling again. I don’t want him to see the truth. I don’t want any of them to. “Complicated. He can look, I might even let him touch, but that’s where it has to end.”
“Parents do a number on you, too, huh?”
I look at Beckett again. He’s having a rare serious moment and I don’t want to miss it, but it’s his turn to hide.
Face to the sky, he says, “I get it. My mom took off a long time ago. It was just me and my dad after that.”
“He didn’t remarry?” I ask quietly.
“No. I think we both thought she would come back to us. Hoped she would anyway.”
“Did she?”
“Nope. Not once. Not even when things got really bad.” His eyes close and I give him the time he obviously needs. Finally, he opens them. “No, she never showed. Left one day with some dude she’d been sneaking around with and never came back.”
Without thought, I reach over to grab his hand.
“You know that has nothing to do with you though, right? That’s her issue.”
“Is that what you tell yourself?”
I sigh. “Yes…and no. I would’ve preferred my mom leave me honestly.”
“Don’t say that. You don’t know what it’s like to only have one parent. One that’s running at half-speed while the world rushes past them.”
I can’t help but smirk. “Don’t I? You have no idea what I’ve dealt with. You don’t get close to girls because you’re scared of getting hurt again. I know I’ll be hurt again. Things don’t come easy for me in this life. No one can change the shitty hand I’ve been dealt but me.”
His blue eyes find mine.
“Does that usually work for you?”
“What?” I snap, growing more irritated by the second.
“Pushing people away before even giving them a chance.”
I glance down at the steady rhythm of his chest. “Yes.”
“I can tell.” He slides his hand out of mine. “But you should know Coty’s in. He’s all in. I’ve known him for a long time now and I’ve never seen him like this. He’s had girlfriends over the years but he’s never been this irrational over them. Hell, he’s so jealous, he doesn’t even want me talking to you.” He scoffs.
“Then why are you here? I doubt he’d like you being in my bed.”
“’Cause I know you wouldn’t let me try anything if I wanted to.”
I cock an eyebrow. “Do you? Want to?”
He takes his time looking over my face then down the rest of my body before making it back to my eyes.
He shrugs noncommittally.
“Don’t get me wrong, you’re hot. Like I can’t believe we get to watch you parade around in a swimsuit and not get called perverts ‘cause it’s in our backyard and we can’t help but appreciate our amazing view.” I smack his arm which only makes him smile wider.
“I don’t parade around. And you’re still a pervert.”
“Agree to disagree.” He shoots me a wink. “Anyway, even if I wanted to make a move, I wouldn’t ‘cause Coty is hooked and I’d never do that to my boy. I’m badass like that.”
“He’s not hooked. He’s bored to death with the sausage fest you three have going across the hall and thinks I can give him some entertainment for a while. He’ll lose interest soon enough.”
“Have you seen him when you come around?” he asks incredulously.
“Yeah, he acts like a caveman that wants his way. He’ll tire when he learns he’s never going to get it though.”
“Oh, Angie,” he pats my head, “you have a lot to learn. Coty isn’t looking to hit it and quit it. Dude’s got feelings for you. How else do I need to say it? He likes you, okay? He doesn’t sleep around like…” His eyes dart around, avoiding my gaze. “Marc.” He ignores the choking sound coming from my throat. Glass houses… “If you really don’t want to be with him, then you need to tell him, like today. That boy is one hand job short of being whipped.”
“Are you done yet? Not only did you rudely wake me up but now I’m being lectured by the biggest pig in wolf’s clothing I know. Worst Saturday morning ever,” I grumble.
“Man, your mom really did fuck you up if you don’t even know your fairy tales.”
I flip him my middle finger with my eyes closed which is why I don’t see the pillow coming until it smacks me square in the face.
Beckett shoots off the bed in a flash, saying, “No, please, continue your pity party.”
Pillow in hand, I sit up and cock my arm back. I launch it across the room but Beckett’s freakishly long body is already at the door and, quicker than I thought someone his size capable, he opens and closes it, barely making a sound. The pillow, however, smacks against the wall with a soft thump before landing unceremoniously to the floor. Okay, so my timing and aim were both a little off.
Next thing I know, Beckett’s obnoxious laughter wakes the rest of Creekwood.
Like I said, worst Saturday morning ever.
* * *
Hot Spots being slammed all day worked out well for several reasons. For one thing, I barely had enough time to catch my breath, never mind fixate on Beckett’s early morning admission. Another reason being I only saw Joe once today and it was when I pulled in for my shift. Luckily, he was helping a customer so I was able to skirt by without notice. I had to take the long way around the building for breaks but the extra exercise was worth avoiding my handsy boss.
Just getting home from grocery shopping, my phone rings, cutting off the song “Won’t Go Down Easy” by Jaxson Gamble. When I see UNKNOWN light up the screen, I yank it off the cord and answer it.
“What are you doing?” a male voice asks.
“Who is this?”
“Don’t play dumb, Angela.” Something about the voice seems familiar. Fucking rude, but familiar. “Where are you?”
The shrill ringing of warning bells fills my ears.
“Joe? I already left for the day.”
He just laughs. What’d I miss?
“I know. Do you think you could meet me?”
The bells are now screeching full volume.
“Can it wait ‘til my next shift? I have a bunch of food I need to get inside.” A bunch is a bit of an overstatement but sounds better—more responsible. Unlike Joe’s callous behavior the other night.
Out of habit, I glance around to see if the boys are home. They’re not. Their bikes are gone.
The lampposts lighting the dim parking lot buzz with swarms of bugs surrounding the bulbs.
It’s quiet. Too quiet. The sudden urge to get upstairs is overwhelming.
“I can meet with you when I come in tomorrow.”
“That won’t work. I can’t talk about this there. It’s about Amity.”
Amity? “I don’t really know her. Not sure how I’d be any help.”
“I think she’s stealing.”
I pause, my hands full of my two reusable grocery bags. I’d already suspected Amity was the one to lift those tips that day we shared a shift but I didn’t have enough proof to say anything. At the time though, it had seemed like Joe was captain of Team Amity, so now I’m wondering what happened to make him bow out of her corner. And more importantly, why is he bringing this up to me?
“That’s why I need you to take over her shifts. We need to discuss the change. Privately.”
Leaning against my Jeep, I kick a pebble with my shoe, sending it skidding across the deserted asphalt.
“I already said I would talk to you about that after I graduate. I can’t take over Amity’s shifts while I’m still in school. I’m not sure what else we would need to talk about.”
“I could come to you.”
What? Why the hell is he pushing this? There’s no plausible explanation for us to meet after hours. Plus, he has to know I don’t trust him after the shit he pulled. Right?
“I don’t think that’s necessary. I’ll talk to you at work.”
“You know I could just get your address from the office, don’t you?”
My heart stops. My address. The day he insisted I write down my apartment number comes to mind. Fuuuuck.
I scan my surroundings again. I’ve been so busy wondering about those nosey neighbors of mine that I didn’t even think to look for anyone else. Straightening, I hurry over to the building, taking the stairs two at a time.
“Actually, I need to let you go. Some friends are stopping over so I’ll see you tomorrow.”
I don’t wait for his response before hanging up. Hopefully the thought of a crowd will scare him off. Although he seems to be growing bolder, I can only hope he doesn’t get reckless. Regardless, Joe threatening to use my address has my stomach in knots. I’m not sure what I’d do if he followed through and I don’t plan on finding out.
