Page 19

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SADIE

I was left on read…for four days.

It’s fine. I’m fine.

I get it. He didn’t find the joke funny. Or… Oh shit, was he deeply offended? That’s it. He thought I was making fun of his beloved banana sauce, or his spaghetti, or anything that doesn’t mean he just used, then threw me into the trash.

But I don’t even care.

It was over a week ago. Ancient history, like the pyramids. My only monument to the one night fling is a gap in my underwear drawer and the finally clearing hives. Once those are gone…

So maybe last night, lying in bed watching the clock tick over to two AM, I may have, um…

Pressed on my hives while my red rose sucked on my clit.

It was only supposed to be a quick way to get to sleep.

But the second I’d glanced over my chest, a twinge of pain become a rush of panting memories.

The one orgasm turned into a dozen until I was shaking, sweaty, and too wound up to pass out.

I had slunk off to the bathroom to try a cold shower.

And I brought the toy along.

“Sadie?”

Exhausted and heartbroken…

No, no, no. Not heartbroken. This isn’t love. Pussy broken. That’s it.

In the kind of near catatonic state that somehow makes a work day both fly by and last for a century, I focus and think about nothing.

Jars pass from the box, to my hand, to a shelf.

I can feel them, but I only see his chest slick with the steam of a shower.

His tattoo damn near glowing against his reddening skin in the heat.

Leaves drape over his shoulder and across his chest while the stems travel the bumpy path of his lats before the roots unfurl over his hips.

I never had the nerve to ask what it was.

I got it was a plant, but what kind? And why get a tattoo of it?

“Sadie!”

And those eyes. Deep set and mysterious, always watching with a curiosity. But when he found what he wanted… I know, it can’t be real. I swear though, they turned purple.

“Miss Nair!”

“Huh?” I wrench myself out of my half dream, half memory of Aubry spooning eggs onto a plate in nothing but a pair of tight shorts.

One of the managers stands above me, arms crossed. “What are you doing?”

“I’m…” I look at the jar in my hand. It’s one of the barbecue sauces. “Stocking?”

“Stocking what?”

I lift the jar to make my point, but before a smart ass remark can escape I glance to the shelf.

A mess of boxed sunglasses sit on the half when I shoved them to the side to fit the barbecue jars.

“Ha ha, oops.” At top speed, I load all the jars back into the box then reach over to adjust the sunglasses.

“Oops indeed. Are you feeling well?”

Not really. I can count on one hand the number of full nights of sleep I’ve had in two weeks. Maybe I should ask for a sick day. Climb under the covers and pray for my brain to turn off. It could at least find a new channel other than the all Aubry Gene all the time one it’s obsessed with.

“Well—”

“Good,” my manager interrupts. “Get those stocked, then break down boxes. And if you can’t manage it before your shift ends…”

“I’ll stay late,” I promise. He doesn’t tell me to clock out first, but I know the look. I’m close to my forty hours and they’d rather let rats run loose in the store than pay us a full time wage.

With a curt nod, he storms off to go make someone else’s day awful.

I bend over to adjust the jars when the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end.

Instinct causes me to drop my ass so I’m hunching over the box.

Even if no one slaps it, or pinches it, or does a quick thrust behind me, I’m sure someone will say something.

They always do.

What the hell is wrong with me?

It’s like I’m living outside my body. I know what I need to do. Delete his number. Forget him. Focus on work. Renew my driver’s license. Send those RAW pics to the client for approval. Edit…

I yawn, unable to hide what my face already gave away.

I’m not exhausted, I’m haunted. Every time I close my eyes, or lay down, or see a spaghetti commercial, his ghost is there begging to fuck me.

“Excuse me…”

Great. Now I’m hearing him outside of my head.

The jars give a warning jangle as I heft the box and stride toward the section they belong in. Which is…?

“Ah. Could I—?” The man following me won’t give up.

“The bargain cave is back there,” I say, pointing in its direction. “By the bathrooms.”

“Sadie.” Fingers glide up my forearm. Rather than wrench away, my skin sparkles like a rain of glitter. I swivel my head, fearing I’ll watch my deranged hallucination fade away.

Aubry gives a little smile. “I wanted to talk to you.”

Shit, he can’t see me like this. I haven’t washed my hair in… And my clothes are… Did I put any makeup on today? Or brush my teeth?

What’s he doing here? Does he really think he can ignore me for days, and I’ll just jump on his dick with a snap of his fingers?

Fuck, is he wearing a henley? With the top buttons open? And his sleeves rolled up!

No. No, I must be strong. Do not look at his wrists!

For the sake of my own sanity, I dig into my anger. And keep my back to him so I’m not undone by his beauty. “About what? If you’re looking for a quick lay, I’m afraid I’m busy tonight.”

“You’re angry at me,” he sighs and slows. My traitorous steps do too.

“Angry? No. Why would I be angry?” I am cool and calm. A stream winding through a mountain. He means nothing to me. I am not bothered by…

I revolve around, slam the box into my hip, and shout, “It’s not like you left me on read. For four days!”

Only the gurgles of the fake waterfalls fill the silence.

I glance over to find we’ve stopped before the giant mountain with goats climbing up the side and fish swimming in the tank below.

It’s a lightning rod for customers who now are all watching the crazy employee shout at a man far too attractive for her.

“Can I explain?” he asks, folding his hands into a prayer.

No. I spent all of Saturday crying. Not over you, not really.

But the fact that I am too hideous to be seen in public with you.

That you can get hard as rock when I’m naked, but fade from existence if I so much as text you.

My self esteem didn’t nose dive, it cratered its way to the center of the earth and is still down there roasting in the core.

Grinding my teeth, I stare him up and down, and spit out, “Fine.”

He breathes a sigh of relief, like he’s been worrying about my response. Worrying he won’t get his dick wet more like.

“I’m sorry. I…I should have texted you. I’m not very good with phone stuff, truth be told.”

“Is that it? That’s your excuse? You’re some nineteen hundred telegrapher bamboozled by this shiny new technology?

‘Hello Dolly, what’s this new thingamajig all the kiddies are gobsmacked about?

The telephone, you say? Why I never!’” I seriously slipped into an old fashioned accent and held my thumb and pinkie to my ear. While people watched.

Can the sinkhole open up under me?

To my both shock and horror, he laughs. “It feels like it, some days. My old job didn’t like me leaving a paper trail, digital or otherwise.”

“As a bouncer?” I ask.

“Lawyers. Always looking out for the house.” Aubry gulps then slaps on a goofy smile. His eyes look about to scream, and I want to reach out to calm him.

No. Still mad. Still clinging to that rage.

“So that’s your whole explanation? You don’t do phones?”

Wringing a hand over the back of his neck, he stares around the room. First at the people all doing their best to pretend to shop while listening. Then he looks up at the mountain. “Is that a goat?” Aubry asks. “And a bear?”

So that’s how it’s gonna be. “Look, I’ve got to get back to work.” I slap the box to hammer home the point and turn to march to whatever’s on this side of the store. Fishing? Crap, I need camping supplies.

“Wait.” Aubry reaches for me, but freezes as I spin back to stare him down. Then this gigantic man folds in on himself until he’s smaller than a mouse. “The truth…the truth is my life’s…a mess right now.”

Whose isn’t?

“I was worried about dragging you into it all.”

“What’s the problem?” I ask. Ex-wife? Creditors? Warrants for a murder charge? Ha, I want to laugh at the last one, before I think about the first. It’s the ex-wife. Guaranteed.

“Work shit. A whole lot of complicated work shit. But I…I think I’ve bought myself some time.”

“Some time?” What does that mean?

“Before there’s another crisis that needs me,” he says fast and gives another laugh. “Can I tell you something?”

That’s all he’s been doing, but he’s giving furtive glances and has dropped his voice. Whatever this is must be important. Or trade secrets that could topple an empire. Either way, curiosity grabs me by the ear, and I lean closer.

“I was thinking about leaving Loomis,” Aubry confesses.

“Really?”

My world shatters. The one where I become hugely successful, get a glow up, then run into him one day at the grocery store and we begin a torrid love affair in five years.

“There wasn’t much reason for me to stay.” He licks his lips and raises his brow. “At least…” Aubry gives me a look that’d tear off all my clothes. “…at first.”

“Ah…” I want to swoon in his arms and tell him to take me now while the stuffed goat watches. But that’s giving him everything he wants.

I take a step back just as his fingers press into my spine. Was he about to kiss me? Either way, his hand falls off, and I stare up at him with a calculating glare. “And you think that I am…still available?”

Playing hard to get has never been so infuriatingly impossible. He wants me. I want him.

But I also don’t want him to fuck me then vanish for another week.

Aubry swallows and stands up. Running a hand back through his hair, he hardens into a complacent statue. Even as the emotion drains from his face, his eyes dart around mine. “Are you?”

“Perhaps.”

Yes. Fuck, yes. I would dump a thousand men just to climb on that cock and ride it like a pogo stick.

“So.” He cricks his neck like his body is turning into one knotted muscle. “…if I wanted to see you again...?”

“A date. A real one, in public. With people around. Seeing us.”

He almost hides the wince enough so I won’t see. “Okay.” A hostage date is still better than what I had before.

Jerking my finger at him, I lay down my last demand. “But you have to text me back every time I message you. Got it?”

“I will,” he promises.

“And there better be cute cat pictures.”

A hard laugh shatters his stone face. “That is no problem.”

I stick my hand out like this is a business deal. “Tomorrow. You can pick me up at my place.”

Am I really doing this? Am I giving him a second chance?

Aubry glances his fingers up my palm before he catches my hand. Pulling me close, he whispers while staring into my eyes, “The wait will be excruciating.”

I’m gonna need an iron chastity belt to get through this.