Page 12 of Unmasking Love (D.C. Renegades #1)

Harper

Vitamin Deficiency

“Here’s good,” Wes says from the back seat. My eyes are closed because who am I to fight gravity. Suddenly a warm hand starts patting my face. “You’re the next stop.”

“M’kay,” I agree with my eyes still closed. “I’m feeling very sleepy.”

“I know you are, babe. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

“Wes?” I ask quietly.

“Yeah?”

“He cheated. And I saw it.”

“Yeah.” He says with a sigh. It’s how I feel inside. Just, le sigh .

I hear the car door open and close and then the familiar hum of tires on the road.

“Do you know if he split the cost of the uber or if he just did two stops?” I ask, still with my eyes closed.

“Uh, I’m not sure.” The driver replies.

“Mm, I like your voice.”

“Thanks,” he says with a little laugh to it and I like that sound too. It feels like getting cozy under a blanket.

“Tomorrow is gonna suck.” I mumble to myself. Sadly, I’m conscious enough to remember I caught Crispin with Raquel a few hours ago. I wonder how much tequila it would take to actually erase that image from my brain. But really, I wonder how long it’s been going on.

I w ake with a start when the cool pillow I’ve been resting on is ripped away and I start falling.

Whoops! I’m drunker than I thought. I brace for impact but something catches me.

Big, warm hands hold my shoulders. I blink, trying to open my eyes.

My contacts are dry and foggy but I can make out a man unbuckling me.

“Shit!” I wake up a little more fully. “Sir, I’m so sorry for falling asleep. I’ve got it.”

I flutter my eyes and try to see clearly.

Unfortunately because of the curse of genetics and my lack of carrot consumption, according to my mother, I am hitched to the contact train for life and right now they’re useless.

Just dry disks plastered to my eyeballs.

While I am trying to blink them back into a functioning state, one arm slides under my knees and the other around the top of my back.

Instinctfully, I throw my arms around this man’s neck.

When did uber drivers elevate their services?

I’ll have to remember to leave a five star rating and a larger than suggested tip.

My head swirls as my body moves towards my front door. I’m tempted to settle my head onto this man’s shoulder and maybe nuzzle his neck. He smells like reheated burritos and Christmas. Weird, but I like it.

The smokey smell of pine bursts it’s way through my drunken fog and I blink again, lean in close, so close my nose is almost touching his face.

“Aiden?”

“Harper.”

“How did you? Where?”

“I drove you home. Now I’m going to carry you up to your room and help you get ready for bed. I already pulled your keys out of your bag. Wes told me you’ll need to remove your contacts and said you need to take your Vitamin D.”

“Okay,” I whisper and then I slowly inhale. I think the stale burrito smell is more me than him. His scent is smokey, but a little sweet. If home had a smell it would be this.

He keeps me cradled in his arms as he unlocks the door, steps inside and then slowly lowers me down.

I stumble a bit as I regain my footing and use his shoulders to steady myself.

While the hoodie he has on is soft, everything underneath it is hard.

His shoulder feels like rock and I squeeze my fingers trying to make an impression.

It feels like his muscles have muscles.

My eyes, through the fog of my lenses, fixate on his chest and then my imagination takes over. What would he and his muscles look like rippling over me? Would they pop when he rested his body weight on his elbows?

Would he even be into missionary sex?

He’s athletic, maybe he likes doing it standing up? That's fancy.

Oh heavens, could he hold me by the back of my thighs and fuck me against a wall?

My knees nearly give out at that idea and the sensation brings my focus back to the present.

“Th-Thanks Aiden, I’m sorry about today.”

“Why the fuck are you sorry?” I draw back at his blatant anger. “That asshole cheated on you, took advantage of you, and you’re sorry!?”

“Oh, no, not about that.” I wave off his comment with an added pfft sound. “I’m sorry you didn’t get to see the house.”

“Harper, I couldn’t care less about the house.”

I blink up at him. What does he mean he doesn’t care about the house? My nose starts to sting with tears. Doesn’t he care that I am working so hard to find him somewhere to live? A place with a roof and lots of walls and floors? It’s almost like he’d…

“You’d rather be homeless?” I squeak out as the tears push against the backs of my eyes.

“What?”

“What do you,” I blubber, “mean you’d rather be homeless than live in that house?” I throw myself down on my sofa and bury my face in the cushio ns. All I ever wanted was to find him a house he could fuck in and he doesn’t even care about it. He doesn’t want it. Doesn’t want me.

“Harper, I never said I’d rather be homeless.” He says and I feel the sofa shift under his weight.

The tears are streaming now, I think my nose is crying too, “but you said you don’t care about the house.” I sniffle.

“I don’t.”

“See!” God, why is he torturing me!

“See what?”

“You’d rather be homeless than let me find you a house!” I collapse into the cushion again.

“You know I’m not homeless now, right?” He asks through a little laugh.

“Yes,” I sneer back. “I know that. You live in the uppity apartment.”

“Uppity?”

“Yeah, it’s up .” Geesh he’s dense.

“You mean, it’s on the second floor.”

“Yes! Up. That’s what I said.” I wipe snot on the back of my hand.

“Alright, here we go.” Aiden stands and lifts me again. He sets me on my feet and turns me toward the bathroom. “Go wipe off what’s left of your makeup and take out your contacts. It’s time for bed.”

“Okay,” I concede. Maybe he is into missionary after all. He wouldn’t need a new house for that. Just a place for a good mattress, and headboard.

I stumble to the bathroom and pull my sweater over my head.

I wonder what kind of headboard he has?

I’m feeling very sweaty now. I should stop thinking about Aiden needing a house for sex.

It’s affecting me. I hiss when I turn the light on because it’s so damn bright.

I slam it back off before crashing into the counter.

I pluck out my contacts in the dark, and use a makeup wipe to wash my face while I pee.

I leave my skirt and boyshorts on the floor of the bathroom. Laundry is Future Harper’s problem.

Tea rs threaten again when I remember Aiden and I still didn’t quite clear up the fact he’d rather be homeless and live in that high up apartment. And, maybe I should feel embarrassed by this whole day but my body feels very sleepy now. I just need a glass of water and then I’ll pass out.

The hallway is dark as I make my way to the kitchen. I'm walking slowly because without my glasses on and with the tequila in my veins it feels a little bit like I’m on a boat. When I round the corner, I collide with something I wasn’t expecting to be there and I’m also all wet.

What’s happening?

Am I on a boat?

“Shit!” A man curses. No, not a man, Aiden. He whirls around so his back is facing me and the, now empty, glass hangs between his fingers.

“Aiden? Why are you still here?”

“I was getting you water! Why are you naked?”

“I was hot!” I yell back as I shake some of the water off my arms.

“Can you just get into bed?” He pleads.

“But now I’m wet.” I pout.

“Jesus, Harper,” Aiden lifts one hand and runs it through his hair. “I’m begging you, get into bed.”

“Geesh, bossy. Fine. You act like you’ve never seen a naked woman before.

” I respond as I head back down the hall towards my bed and climb in.

If this is his reaction to me naked it doesn’t matter what kind of sex he likes to have; it won’t be with me.

I sigh and use my heels to kick the covers down.

“Maybe that’s why Crispin cheated, I never got randomly naked for him. ”

“Crispin cheated because he’s a bad person. You had nothing to do with it.”

“You don’t know that.” I say, realizing Aiden is responding to my tequila fueled ramblings with calm rationale.

“ Trust me, I thought you were hot before you walked into your kitchen naked.” I hear the faucet turn off and his voice gets closer. “You don’t need to take your clothes off to be attractive.”

I hiccup and it covers my surprise. Aiden thinks I’m hot?

He looms over me at the side of my bed and I get a very good idea.

Time to run a little experiment. I sit up quickly and reach for his pants.

One hand lands on his crotch but the other bumps the new glass of water and knocks it to the ground.

He jumps back, ass first, to avoid my pants removal maneuver and knocks over my houseplant.

“What are you doing?” He sounds angry.

“You said I was hot so I was going to, I dunno, touch it.”

“Harper.” Now he sounds disappointed.

“You don’t want me to touch it.” Maybe he’s not into sex at all. That would be way less embarrassing than being rejected for the second time in one day.

“Jesus, not tonight Harper.” He lifts the cover up and I crawl back in. I close my eyes and sigh. “Just go to sleep sweetheart.” I hear as the blankets settle across my shoulders. I’m already too far gone to drowsiness to respond but the endearment stays with me as I pass out.

***

Oh god, I swallowed the Sahara. There is no other explanation for how dry my mouth is. I roll over and reach out to my bedside table. My fingers land in a stainless steel mug filled with water and it’s easier to lick that water off than it is to sit up and bring the glass to my lips.

Baby steps.

My brain is pounding against my skull but I don’t feel dizzy or nauseous. The overwhelming feeling of emptiness hits my chest and the last 24 hours come rushing back in a movie montage sequence.

Upbeat moments with Aiden.

Tense moments finding Crispin.

Wallowing moments with Wes at Senior Guppies.