Screw It Read online

  His hand midair, he whispers, “Right.”

  I brush past him and start my run, and he falls in beside me.

  I keep my eyes forward as our feet pound the pavement, and the brick and wood buildings fly by. This is the best part of my day, having nothing but a clear head and the burn in my legs. I have perfect control of my breaths, perfect control of my steps, perfect control of my mind, and perfect control of me.

  That is, until I catch his biceps bunching and pulling in my peripheral vision, and my step falters just a teeny, tiny bit.

  Shit.

  Control.

  This hasn’t happened in the past two days.

  After walking me home on Tuesday night, he holds open the door to my building. “You still run in the morning?”

  I walk through the door and stomp up the steps. “You’re not running with me.”

  “Still go out around nine?”

  Clomping up the stairs, I say, “I don’t want you running with me.”

  We hit the landing, and he’s silent until we hit my door. I blink at the intact door.

  Well, it appears he fixed my door.

  Turning to him, I hold out my hand. “I need my keys.”

  His lips twitch as he reaches into his jeans. He pulls out two keys on a single key chain, and he jingles them in front of my face.

  I roll my eyes and snatch them from his fingers before giving him my back to unlock my door. I’m on the second lock when the heat of his breath drifts over my ear.

  “I’ll see you in the morning.”

  I fight off a tremble, but my voice is a touch hoarse when I say, “I don’t want you screwing up my routine.”

  Chuckling, he pulls away.

  I expect him to argue or push me, but when his footsteps sound on the floorboards, I realize he isn’t going to fight on the running issue. Turning my head, I find his fine ass moving down the hall away from me. When I realize he gave up, I tell myself that the twinge in my stomach isn’t disappointment.

  Wednesday, the next morning, he was sitting on my steps. I told myself that I was annoyed with him, and I just gave in with an aggravated huff.

  Thursday morning was the same.

  I told myself I could let this slide because it allowed me to spend time with him, letting him think he was getting in there.

  For the most part, he made our runs so that I didn’t even know he was beside me—until just now.

  I block out my peripheral vision.

  “I caught that.” Zach’s voice holds humor.

  “Caught what?” I glance at him.

  He turns his eyes to me, his lip twitching before he grins huge, and he shakes his head. “Nothing, sweets.”

  I roll my eyes and face forward. “Whatever.”

  His chuckles are mingled with his heavy breaths.

  I spend the rest of the run ignoring his presence with moderate success.

  After the run, we stand on the steps, catching our breaths.

  I start to say, “Later,” but before I get the L out, his eyes focus on my temple and follow a path down my cheek, my chin, and then down to my cleavage.

  “What are you doing?” My voice snaps.

  His eyes shoot to mine. They’re tense but also burning. My skin tingles, and I lean away.

  “Just remembering a time when I could do something about the salt dripping down that beautiful body.”

  My mouth pops open. The memory of me spread wide on my counter, him eating me after a run, flashes through my mind. My pussy clenches before I snap my mouth closed.

  “That’s just as gross now as it was then.”

  He grins, the intensity leaving his eyes, and he winks. “Not gross, babe. It’s hot. Something primal about having the natural taste of you, all worked up with adrenaline pumping, after watching your body move.”

  My tits swell.

  He continues, “I don’t think you minded too much then.” He leans closer and slides his tongue across his bottom lip before his teeth make the same path. “I bet you wouldn’t mind now either.”

  My entire body trembles.

  Control.

  Before I can decide how to play the situation, one side of his mouth tips up. “Not yet, sweets. We’re not ready.” His eyes drop to my cleavage and then come back to my eyes. “I’m looking forward to it though.”

  Not wanting to lose the upper hand, I put my hands on his chest, roll up to my tiptoes, hood my eyes, and lick my lips. His eyes drop to my mouth, growing heated, before he looks back at me.

  I keep his gaze as I whisper, “Don’t hold your breath.”

  I pull away, grinning, and he grabs me by the waist and hauls me close. “That wasn’t very nice.”

  My heart thumps in my chest. “Never said I was nice.”

  He grins and puts me down, and I inwardly breathe a sigh of relief.

  “Before you head inside, I wanted to ask, what are your plans for Sunday night?”

  I told him my schedule, so he knows that’s my only night off. “I have a date.”

  His jaw drops slightly before snapping shut, and his face grows hard. “What?”

  “Yeah, she’s super cute and tons of fun. She likes to play with my hair. Her sister will be there, too. We’re gonna have fun all night long.”

  As I talk, his eyebrow rises centimeter by centimeter, and before I finish my sentence, I’m not sure if he wants to have my head evaluated or throttle me.

  “What?” His face is set hard.

  I lean into him, and my lips tip up into a naughty grin. “It’s gonna be wicked awesome.”

  His face turns to granite. “Woman, you said we were gonna work shit out, and now, you’re taunting me with fucking lesbian threesomes? That shit pisses me off. Not cool in any way.”

  Moving away from him, I wink.

  He grunts, his lips pressed together in a thin line.

  Then, I realize I’m enjoying this banter too much, and it needs to stop.

  I roll my eyes and toss him a grin. “Would you relax? I’m babysitting my nieces.”

  Something flashes in his eyes before he relaxes, and the flash is gone. He’s hiding something.

  “That works. I’m babysitting my niece and nephew. Was gonna ask if you felt like tagging along. This way, they can all play together.”

  I put that flash in his eyes in the back of my head, but while doing it, I remind myself what a player and a dick he used to be, and it makes me feel less apprehensive about my plan to fuck him over.

  “You want me to hang out with your family?” My voice holds doubt.

  “Operation Daze and Wow,” he says simply while smiling.

  My brow furrows. “What the fuck does that mean?”

  He steps closer. “Means I’m working hard at getting back in there. Means I’m not holding anything back. My brother knows about you, knows you mean something to me. We won’t get a lot of time together with your work schedule, so I figured I’d kill two birds with one stone—showing you I’m serious about getting back to the good by introducing you to some of my family, and I get to spend time with you.”

  My eyes widen, and I take a step back. “Don’t you think that’s a little fast?”

  He moves forward again. “No.”

  My breathing escalates, and I step back again. “But we’ve only sorta, kinda started talking about trying again.”

  He takes another stride, moving in closer to me. “So, you’re a little harder around the edges, but you’re still the same Becca. I’m still me, except this time I know that I’m not letting go of something real again.”

  I take another step back, but my feet hit the bottom stair, and I start to go down. He snatches me around the waist and pulls me close.

  “Just me and you, hanging out with kids. I’m not asking you to marry me.”

  Control the situation.

  He’s pushing to make this happen, and spending time with him will help me get into his heart to screw him over. And I know the girls would love to play with other kids.
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  Okay, I can do this.

  Pulling in a breath and making a quick decision, I say, “Okay, I like kids, so the more, the merrier. I’m sure the girls would love to play with new kids, but we do it at my brother’s house as long as he’s okay with it. Deal?”

  His lip twitches. “Merrier?”

  I roll my eyes. “Would you let me go and quit making fun of my vocabulary?”

  He grins. “Sweet.”

  I scowl. “I don’t get why that’s sweet.”

  He dips his face closer to mine, and my breathing stutters.

  “I know you don’t. That’s part of why it’s sweet.”

  He’s getting dangerously close to making a chip in my control, so I push against his chest. He lets me go, and I climb a few steps before I turn back.

  “I’ll talk to my brother and get back to you.”

  That flash happens in his eyes again, making the possible chip disappear.

  The deception clears from his eyes before he grins and holds up a hand to do a mock salute. Something else new, and it’s kinda cute.

  “Sounds good, sweets. See you tonight.”

  Without a response, I climb the stairs, ignoring a chuckle I hear from behind.

  After rehydrating myself and showering, I make the buffalo chicken I prepped yesterday morning. I pull out the Ziploc bag containing raw chicken cut into pieces mixed with flour, garlic, cayenne pepper, and onion powder. Letting it sit for over twenty-four hours is the best technique ever because the flour soaks in, so the crust won’t fall off. I plug in my deep fryer and fill it with oil. While I’m bustling around the kitchen, I call Matt.

  “Hey, Bee.”

  “Hey, I wanted to run something by you.” I’m thinking this is going to be a weird conversation because I’ve never, not even close, asked him for something like this. Worse, it’ll be out of the blue. Then, it seeps in that this might be a bad idea. I’ll get the only people I care about involved, and when it all ends, they might get hurt.

  “Sock it to me.”

  I hesitate, thinking maybe I should call Zach and cancel.

  “Bee?”

  My tone is soft. “I’m here.”

  “Jesus, you okay?”

  I lick my lips, gather myself, and square my shoulders. “Never mind. Forget I said anything.”

  “Bee, you don’t call me, say you wanna run something by me when you’ve done that once in your life, and then shut down on me. Out with it.”

  Do I really never ask for advice?

  Well, of course I don’t. He just gives me his opinion whether I want it or not.

  “Becca.”

  I roll my eyes.

  Whatever.

  “Fine. I’m sorta, kinda seeing someone.”

  Silence.

  “Matt?”

  “Is that what you wanted to roll by me?” His voice is scratchy and rough.

  My eyebrows pull together. “You okay?”

  “Answer the question, and then I’ll tell you.”

  My heart rate picks up. “Um…not exactly. So, the guy I’m kinda, sorta seeing is babysitting his niece and nephew on Sunday and wanted to bring me, but I’m babysitting for you—”

  “Have them over if you want.”

  I blink. “You sure?”

  “Yeah.” He pauses and then says, “Need to tell you about something. Was gonna do it on Sunday, but now, it’s gotta happen earlier.”

  I don’t like the low, careful tone to his voice. My pulse hammers in my neck, but I slowly say, “Okay,” dragging out the word.

  “The guy you’re seeing is my new partner.”

  My eyelids close slowly before they drift back open. Then, my stomach crashes to the floor. “What?” My voice is breathy, horrified.

  “Bee, that’s not the part I need to talk to you about. Why are you so upset about that?” His voice is hard but high-pitched and confused.

  Fuck. Shit. Oh fuck. Oh shit.

  Project Fuck Zach just hit a major fucking roadblock.

  “Um…just that I don’t want things to get weird for you when we don’t work out.”

  “When?”

  I sigh and pinch the bridge of my nose. “If.”

  “You’re so full of shit that I can smell it over here.”

  Fuck. Shit. Goddamn it.

  I rack my brain for a viable excuse. “He’ll get tired of me working so much, or I’ll get tired of him bitching that I work too much.”

  “Then, stop working so damn much.”

  “Arg!” I slap my forehead with my palm. “Let’s not have this conversation for the millionth time.”

  His deep release of air makes the phone crackle. “Right. Not sure if it’s a good thing or not that you’re already pissed, but I gotta tell you something else.”

  Fuck. Shit.

  “What?” I clip the word out.

  “I told him how we met.”

  I blink, tears hitting my eyes, but I don’t see the moisture. I see nothing but red, and I feel nothing but my body tightening before I explode. “Why would you do that, Matt?” I shriek.

  “Bee—”

  “God-fucking-damn it!” I carefully set my phone on the counter, so I won’t chuck it across the room.

  Ten, nine, eight…

  Deep breath.

  I clench and uncurl my fists.

  Seven, six, five…

  Right. Damage control.

  I snatch up the phone. “Why did you do that, Matt?” My voice is vibrating and hard.

  “Because he needed to know.”

  I glance at the ceiling.

  Four, three, two…

  “Please, Matt, in all your infinite fucking wisdom tell me exactly why he needed to know.”

  “This is why I wanted to wait till Sunday, so I could do this shit face-to-face,” he muttered, clearly not speaking to me.

  “Why? So, I could punch you?”

  “Bee, you can’t kill a spider, so there’s no way you’d punch me.”

  He’s right. I don’t like to see things injured or dead, but still.

  “I’d make an exception for you.”

  He bursts out laughing, and my body tenses again.

  “Would you quit laughing and tell me what the fuck you were thinking when you told Zach about my past?”

  His chuckles die off. “Right. I’m gonna lay it out like it is. I know you’re not gonna like it, but here it is. That boy is a good man who’s into you. I know he was a dick, and I know he hurt you. But now, that boy is seriously into you. Broke down the goddamn door ’cause he was so freaked when he heard you screaming. Then, he held you, cleaned you, and called me to help fix your door. Zach was worried about you. He’s into you, and you’re seeing him. He needs to know what he is working with. He needs to know, so he can help you. I didn’t share it all. He knows your mom died and how she died and that you were the one who found her.”

  So much in what he just said feeds the fire burning inside me, but I focus on the most important.

  “Don’t you think, Matt,” I start, my voice low but lethal and growing louder, “that it should have been me making that decision?”

  “Would you have told him anytime soon?”

  “Fuck no.”

  “Exactly. That’s why I told him.”

  “That’s bullshit, and you fucking know it.”

  “Right. Laid it out. Get that you’re pissed. Argue all you want, but I did the right thing.”

  “You didn’t. I control who knows.”

  “Bee, seriously, swear to God, not being a dick when I say, you don’t control who knows. He could’ve found out from anyone. Not that difficult if he asked around. Fuck, all he would have had to do was pull up your file. Better it came from me.”

  My temper cools since he has a point there.

  But still.

  “I don’t need anyone fixing me.”

  “Bullshit.”

  “I—”

  “Everyone needs fixing, especially you.”

  “Krissy need
ed fixing?” I ask, expecting the answer to be no.

  “Fuck yeah, she did, and so did I. That’s the thing about relationships that are worth something, Bee. You might not even know you need fixing until you get it. You know my shit. Krissy had a nice life growing up, but she didn’t have her other half. She got it, and now, she’s whole.”

  Okay, that was really sweet.

  I stay silent.

  “By your silence, I’m guessing you get me.”

  “A little. You should’ve talked to me about all this before you talked to him.” My voice is softer.

  “Made a split-second decision.”

  I sigh, and my voice is hard again as I say, “Fine. Don’t tell him anything else.”

  He chuckles. “You got my word.”

  “Good.” My voice is still firm. “I’m bringing buffalo chicken pizza for dinner on Sunday.”

  “Awesome,” he says, his voice filled with humor.

  After I hang up with Matt, I make buffalo chicken and set aside the leftovers for pizza. The chicken came out really good, but it’s still not perfect. The whole time I scuttle around the kitchen and eat, I turn over ideas on how to get out of this mess with Zach.

  After an hour of rolling around plans, I come up empty.

  Fuck. Shit.

  Using my phone’s GPS, I find my partner’s house with a five-year-old Nick and a three-year-old Ashley strapped in their booster seats.

  Pulling out Ashley, I set her down on the driveway. Then, I offer a hand to Nick.

  He jumps out with a “Whoop!”

  I smile at my nephew.

  He’s one hundred percent Jed—dark hair and dark eyes, fun-loving and loyal. He’s also a boy, bouncing on and jumping off shit. I fucking love it. Ashley’s all Anna—dark hair and blue eyes, shy but friendly and happy. She’s also a three-year-old girl, so she whines—a lot. I usually tickle it out of her, and seeing as she has the cutest laugh, I’ll tickle her even when she’s not grumpy.

  I herd the kids to the door and knock. When it opens, I fight laughing at Matt’s set jaw and hard eyes.

  “Chaos every time we go out—so much so, I swear, I’m never going out again. Then, I forget, and this shit happens again.”

  I grin. We walk through the door, and he shuts it behind us.

  “Krissy takes forever. Nothing to wear, saying she looks fat in everything. Girls are wired ’cause Auntie Becca’s coming, and it’s worse this time ’cause they got other kids to play with. Insane.”