Текст книги "Seeing You "

Автор книги: Michelle Lynn

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CHAPTER EIGHT

Todd

If Shawn weren’t walking right next to me, I’d scream to release the aggression flowing through my veins. Fuck me. I’ve pushed Noodle into Davis’s arms. He’s a better man than me, one who can offer her everything I can’t, with his cars, his house, his bank account. On top of that, I’m not sure he’s a bad guy. Other than that stint with Heather, he’s clean. That could have been a rumor, though. She likes attention.

“Will you hire me when you have your own restaurant?” Shawn nudges me.

“You have it made at CHOPs. Why would you leave?” I stuff my hands in my pockets for warmth from the chill in the air.

“I like Davis and CHOPs, but I have no control. Shit, if I need to comp a meal, I practically have to fill out a twenty-page inquisition.” Shawn’s phone rings in his pocket, and he pulls it out. His eyes glisten. “Hey, honey. I’m on my way now. Really? Okay, I’ll be there soon. Love you, too,” he says before tucking it back into his pocket. “My little girl has a fever, and my wife sounds exhausted.”

I pat his shoulder, standing at the top of the stairs to the subway. “Daddy duty calls, huh?”

He huffs. “Yep, but this job is worth the headaches. See you.” He waves and jogs down the steps.

I watch Shawn’s back until he disappears. I’m only delaying my next step. Jim’s probably halfway to obliteration, and I don’t really feel like being lectured on my life goals. If I ignore him and go home, I’ll obsess about him sleeping on his back—or worse, roaming the streets naked.

I glance back at CHOPs one more time. My throat chokes on my saliva as I think of Noodle being in there with Davis with his hands on her body—the body I’ve recently imagined myself touching.

If only my shit baggage wouldn’t get in the way of that . . .

She’s better with him anyway.

I’ll have to keep telling myself that.

* * *

Twenty minutes later, I’m dragging up the stairs outside my foster parents’ house for the second time this week. This time, no one’s waiting outside for me, but the television is blaring through the screen door. If I have an ounce of luck, he’s already out cold.

The candles Carol loves emanate the smell of vanilla as I step through the squeaking door. The house hasn’t changed since I left a year ago. Jim’s old, torn-up recliner sits right in front of the television next to the table he eats most of his dinners on.

The hairs on the back of my neck rise when he stumbles through the kitchen archway. My body trembles from the amount of anxiety he gives me.

“You came?” He wipes his hands down his stained white T-shirt.

How can I blame Carol in this moment?

“I did.”

I gather the beer cans cluttering the floor. He plops down, and the recliner practically tips backward from the force of his body.

“Did you know? You probably did. You two were always so sneaky, sneaky.” One side of his lips curls up in disgust.

Jim never was a fan of showing affection.

“I see you found the liquor store.”

I crush the aluminum cans in my hands instead of throwing them at his head, like I’d like to do. Jim has been sober since before I moved in here, but I knew it wouldn’t last long with Carol leaving him. She must have realized it, too, and that’s why she asked me to check in on him.

“Don’t act like you’re better than me. You’re not.”

I hear the recliner fly up, followed by the click of another beer can opening behind me.

“I’m not. Is drinking going to bring her back, though?”

I leave him while he watches some Law & Order episode that he probably doesn’t understand because he’s obliterated. I stop in the doorway and see the burned spaghetti sauce splattered on the white stove and pasta sprawled along the floor. He tried to cook.

“It will numb me. You know what that’s like, don’t you?” He leans against the doorframe and watches me clean his mess.

“Just go back in there and sit down.” I don’t even bother to look at him.

“Come on, son.”

My whole back stiffens from that one word.

“You know what it’s like not to allow yourself to feel.”

I should have figured he’d jam that knife as far down as he could get it.

Jim had no patience when I first showed up here. I was a quiet and reserved boy who figured I’d be shipped away before breakfast the next day. I didn’t want or care to get to know either him or Carol. He resented the way I made Carol cry. Being a grown man now, I don’t blame him. I was a prick who was scared shitless of what this house would entail.

“That was fifteen years ago, Jim.” I place the dishes in the sink and wipe the sauce stained on the stove.

“Where’s your wife, your kids? Hell, you’ve never had a girlfriend.”

I inhale and exhale a deep breath before I turn around and possibly go ballistic on him. He doesn’t know shit about my life, and the last thing I need in this moment is to hear his rambling. I’m half-tempted to hand him a case of beer myself just to end this torment.

“Let it go. It’s not my problem that Carol left you.”

I peer into the refrigerator to grab some things to make him something to eat. Judging from the noodles and sauce everywhere, he couldn’t stand straight to cook a meal for himself.

He plops down on a kitchen chair, and I wait for the next set of emotions to pour out of him.

“Why did she?” The abrasiveness in his voice lessens.

I actually feel bad for the guy.

“I think you’ll have to answer that question on your own.”

I’m attempting to keep my judgments to myself. I mean, I’m not a perfectionist at any form of love, let alone the true form. I have no idea how it is when you want a happily ever after with someone.

“The fights we’ve had the last few weeks, she kept saying I wasn’t romantic enough. What the hell did she want? I bought her a house. She had nice clothes, and there was food on the table.”

“Maybe roses and chocolate—that movie crap.”

I set a hot dish of pasta in front of him.

He stares up at me in awe. “Thank you.”

I shrug a shoulder and sit down next to him. He grabs his fork and begins eating as though he hasn’t had a decent meal in days. I guess he probably hasn’t.

“I’m going to head out, okay?”

I swivel in my chair to move, but he places his hand on mine. That one small act tells me he’s asking me to stay, so I swivel back around and face forward. My phone buzzes in my pocket, but I ignore it.

“Tell me about your restaurant.”

A warmth spreads inside my heart because he’s asking about my life, and I begin to tell him about my position and what I do each day. I leave out wanting my own restaurant and the investors I’m currently seeking.

Maybe this is a step in the right direction for us. Time will tell, but this is more interest than he’s ever shown me before.

CHAPTER NINE

Amelia

I’m jarred awake by Tatiana hammering, or whatever the hell she’s doing that’s making an annoying knocking sound. My eyes squint to look at my alarm clock, and the haze of blue gradually becomes clear through the fog of my morning vision. I focus on the sliver of sun peeking through my window until the noise triggers in my head.

“Shit!”

I throw the covers off my warm body, and the chill from the air conditioner ignites a rush of goose bumps from my head to my toes. I stumble to the door, and my feet trip over each other down the hall until I steady myself and gain my composure.

“Hold on a sec!”

I peer out the peephole and find a very irritated Todd.

When I open the door, Todd’s eyebrows shoot up as his eyes roam my body. “You forgot,” he deadpans. He bypasses me and saunters into my apartment.

I tug down my Mason Nash T-shirt to cover my hips. “No, I just got in late last night.” I shut the door and follow him into the kitchen area. Hiding myself behind the counter, I pull the coffee from the freezer.

Todd snatches the bag from my hands. “Go get dressed. I got this.”

A small smile creases my lips because it was my hope that he’d take over the responsibility, especially since I always make it too strong. Plus, Todd knows exactly how I like my coffee. If only someone made a Todd coffeemaker, I’d be in Heaven. I stretch my shirt to its max length to hide my thighs peeking out of my too-short pajama shorts. Knowing I have limited time to get ready, I run down the hall. Then, I jog back and peer my head around the corner.

“Hey, can you get the door if Gia comes? I’m going to hop into the shower, too. I have plans after the shoot.” I curse myself for revealing too much information for him to dissect.

“With Davis?” His eyebrows lift.

I ignore him, continuing down the hall.

“You’re taking that favor seriously, huh?” he calls out to me.

I stop outside my bathroom door, inhaling a deep breath. I knew we’d have to talk about this today. I’m not going on a date with Davis because of the favor Todd asked me to do.

I’ve convinced myself every night not to cross the line, but Davis has erased all my progress after giving me an ounce of attention. I can’t seem to stay away from him, but I refuse to ruin my opportunity to make money for my gallery spot. Bartending frees my days while paying my bills until I can break into the art world. I pray pouring vodka tonics won’t be my destiny.

After a quick shower, I pile my hair into a ponytail and throw on a pair of yoga pants and a long tee. My feet skid to a stop when I reach the family room. Todd and Gia are cozy on the couch. Her long legs are curled under her thin frame while Todd faces her, his arm outreached along the back of the couch.

The memory of Todd and me one night flickers to my mind without warning. I can almost feel the butterflies in my stomach as his fingers crept closer to my skin with every drink. Nothing happened, though, and that was when I realized he wasn’t into me like that. If he were, he would have made a move that night.

“Hi, guys,” I announce myself, shaking off the remembrance.

Gia jolts slightly and stands up to her feet, as though she just got caught doing something she shouldn’t have been doing.

“Hi, Amelia,” her voice stammers.

Todd sighs and reluctantly follows Gia’s lead, standing up, as well.

Pushing back the feeling of intrusion, I continue, “There are some robes outside the bathroom for you.”

Gia smiles and passes by me to go down the hallway. Todd’s hands grasp the collar of his shirt, and he yanks it off his body. His fingers reach for his pants button.

“That was a message for you, too,” I remind him, walking over to grab the steaming cup of hot coffee on the breakfast bar.

“You’ve seen me. What’s the difference? Unless”—he swings his hips, imitating a Chippendale dance toward me—“it turns you on, watching me strip off my clothes. Do you have any dollar bills?”

I shove him on the shoulder, making sure my coffee doesn’t spill at the same time.

He wraps an arm around my waist and grinds his crotch against my thigh. “I always knew you wanted me in your bed,” he whispers.

I shake my head in amusement, trying to sip my coffee to perk me up. There’s a small bit of truth in his comment, and I think he knows it.

“Get over yourself, Mr. Playboy. How did your date go last night?” I change the subject to keep that two-by-four between us.

He doesn’t understand how much he can affect me. After sensing something, his eyes turn down and he backs off, continuing to unclothe himself in front of me.

I twist around to face the refrigerator while he continues to undress. He’s right. I’ve seen him, but when I’m behind the camera, it’s different than him stripping right in front of me. When I photograph him, the lens shows the angles and the lights—but that’s not to say that, after the shoot, I’m not turned on. I usually am, and I reprimand myself for it every time.

“Sucked. She brought a damn friend. You know, one of those cock-blocker friends who’s so pissed she’s not going to get me that she makes sure you won’t, either.”

I hear his bare feet shuffle along the hardwood floor, so I face back around.

“You could have made do. I’ve never heard you refuse a threesome.” I bring the mug to my lips, and I close my eyes from the delicious smell.

“My mood soured last night. I went home early.” He holds his own coffee cup in his hands, and his lips purse to cool the hot liquid before he tentatively sips it. “You know I gave you that vote for the hot chocolate, right?”

“Yes, I know.”

“So, what did Davis win?” He quickly wiggles his eyebrows a few times.

“An art tour, with me as the host.”

His lips turn down, and his shoulders slump. “You do know that I was half-kidding when I asked you to keep him busy?”

“Were you?”

“Partly. I thought you’d keep him busy at the bar and out of the kitchen. It’s Sunday, and the restaurant isn’t open anyway. Have your date on a Friday evening.”

He laughs, but I feel as though something is different. His eyes focus on the countertop.

“He’s interested in me. Am I missing something? Is he some kind of man-whore? A habitual dater? Give me the reason not to date him, Todd.” I place my coffee down, leaning over the breakfast bar while my fingers play with one another.

Maybe his news will be enough for me to stay away, convince my body to allow my mind to win the war.

“No, not that I know of. It’s just . . . Davis is the boss, and if things go south, it’s bound to end in disaster. Think about it, Noodle. If it doesn’t go all the way, someone’s going to get hurt, and I fear that it will be you.”

His eyes reveal the concern he has for me, and I appreciate it. I do.

“Why do you assume it will be me? Do you think I won’t be good enough for him in the long run?” My head dips down, my eyes fixating on the small flecks of silver in the countertop.

“Hey.” His finger lands under my chin, and he pushes it up until I meet his eyes. “You’re too good for him. That’s not the issue. Sometimes, guys like Davis, who can and do have everything they’ve ever dreamed of, don’t know how great it is when they find a treasure tending their bar.”

A smile curls at his lips, and I take a deep breath.

If I’m honest, the same thoughts have passed through my head a time or two. It was the reason I tried to end it in the car last night. The impending heartbreak feels as though it’s lingering under the thinnest piece of glass, and the smallest pressure could shatter it, cascading me from happiness to sadness in seconds.

“Ready,” Gia interrupts the conversation.

Todd stares directly into my eyes, and I nod. Our mutual understanding of the risk I’m taking with Davis has been made. With nothing more to say, I shake Todd off and guide them down the hall.

We enter the third bedroom that I’ve converted into my studio. The black drop cloth I put up yesterday should make their bodies pop even more. Todd and Gia sit on the ground while I set up all the camera and lighting. This is my second time shooting them together, and I notice they’re starting to become more comfortable with one another.

“Todd, can you put these on Gia?” I hold out a pair of rhinestone-studded handcuffs.

His lips spread wide, revealing those perfect white teeth. His eyebrows flick up, and I swear, his dirty thoughts take over my artistic ones.

“Just do it.” I roll my eyes.

Once Todd has Gia’s arms raised in the air with the handcuffs, I instruct Todd to slide next to her, concealing his manhood and her right breast. I place my camera down and position his hand over her left breast. With my hands on Gia’s hips, I twist her to mold into him. Her tall height is a perfect fit for Todd. They’re impeccably beautiful together, and the pictures show it.

Going back, I pick up my camera. “Nudge your butt out a little more, Gia,” I say.

She does so flawlessly.

“Perfect.”

I place Todd and Gia in a few more shots, some solo and some together. I put Todd in the handcuffs and instruct Gia to act like a dominatrix, just for fun. From the gleam in Todd’s eyes, it’s his favorite part. The photo shoot is a complete success, and I almost want to cancel my date with Davis just to start working on the pictures.

“These are going to be great. Thank you both.” I lay my camera on the table.

Gia quickly covers herself up with her robe. “I can’t wait to see them, Amelia. That last shoot, my boyfriend choked on his beer when I showed him the photos.”

“I’ll send you a few once I’ve downloaded them.” I smile, and I’m thrown back when she wraps her arms around my neck.

“You’re awesome, Amelia. Thank you.” Her voice lowers. “Can you send me the solo ones, not the ones with Todd? You know my boyfriend—”

“Say no more. Done.”

She squeezes me tighter before releasing me and scrambles out of the room.

“You never told me she had a boyfriend.” Todd sits down on the stool by my computer, his long, muscled legs peeking out of his robe.

“I didn’t know either until just now.” I glance up then back down to my computer. “Why? Were you hoping she’d be your next conquest?”

“No, she’s not my type.”

“I didn’t know you had a type. I assumed, as long as she was breathing, she was good to go.”

I laugh at my own joke, and he slides off the stool.

“I have a type.” Without another word, he disappears from the room.

“Todd?” I quickly call out to stop him.

By the time I follow him to the family room, Gia’s sitting on the couch, sliding her heels on. Todd strips off his robe, and her eyes fly to him then to me as her mouth hangs open from surprise.

“Bye, guys.” She double-times it to the door and grabs her purse from the entryway table.

“Bye, Gia,” I barely squeak out before the door shuts behind her.

I break the distance between Todd and me. He slides into his jeans with his shirt still open, and then he steadily flees toward the door.

“Todd?”

“Just forget it, Amelia. I’m just tired.” He buttons up his pants, never looking up at me.

“I didn’t mean to offend you. I’m sorry.”

He completely disregards me, fisting his keys from the table.

“Todd!” I yell. “You honestly can’t be this angry with me over a dig.”

He flips around, and uncertainty swims in his eyes. “I’m just exhausted. That’s all. You’re right. I go out with a lot of women.”

His sad eyes lure me to him. I’m inches away from wrapping my arms around him and not letting go until I find out what’s tormenting him, but he doesn’t give me the time. Instead, he opens the door and steps into the hallway.

He stands on the other side of the door with his eyes cast down to the floor. He finally looks at me, and his hands grip my shoulders. “Have fun today.” I can’t say anything before he’s at the top of the staircase.

“Todd?” I scream down the hall.

“I’ll call you tonight.” He raises his hand in good-bye.

I shake my head. Then, I watch Davis climbing up the steps, his vision fixed on the numbers on the doors. His timing couldn’t be worse.

Todd breezes past him, and Davis stops.

“Hey, Todd.”

Todd plows down the steps. “Hey, Davis. Have fun.” His hand waves in the air again, and then he vanishes.

Davis’s head bobs back and forth between the staircase and me in the doorway. My teeth nibble on my lip, and I contemplate canceling this date with Davis to run after Todd. Something’s off with him. He’s been working long shifts during the last few days, but I know there’s something more.

I smile to Davis as he approaches my door. “Hey, beautiful.”

“Hi, Davis.” I look over his shoulder at the empty stairwell. My feet shuffle before concentrating on Davis.

He’s as gorgeous as a GQ model. With his dark jeans and black V-neck shirt, he could have stepped right off the cover.

He rubs his stubbled cheek with his palm. “He okay?”

My shoulders fall. “I don’t know. We had a photo shoot this morning.”

Davis stops in front of me in the doorway. I startle when his hand lands on my shoulder.

“Maybe we should reschedule?” he asks.

My eyes gradually rise to his. I contemplate what I should do. Todd assured me he’d call tonight, right?

“No, it’s fine. Let me change really quick.”

I step back into the apartment, and Davis follows me.

“This is a really nice place. You sure you need the job at CHOPs?”

I weave around the coffee table and watch his eyes ping to every surface. Tatiana’s parents bought us the furniture as a thank-you to my grandma letting us live in her rent-controlled apartment.

“Like I already told you, this says nothing about me.”

I grab my phone from the counter, and my screen lights up.

Tatiana: How did the shoot go?

“Hold on one sec, Davis.” I hold my finger in the air, not bothering to see what he’s doing.

Me: Oh, I need to talk to you. Off to go on a date with Davis.

Tatiana: What’s wrong?

Me: I don’t really know. I’ll explain later.

Tatiana: Have fun with Davis.

Me: Talk to you later.

After I change and put on some makeup, Davis and I walk through the lobby of my apartment building. The memory of our kiss last night flutters to mind, and my lips tingle with want to relive it. He glances at his watch then opens the door for me.

“I have to know, are you ever on time?”

“No, never. I was even a week past my due date when I was born. It’s a gene, I guess.” I shrug and laugh.

“Maybe you should set your clocks forward?”

“Tried. My mind does the math.”

The sun beats down on my shoulders when we step into the chilled air. Fall is coming sooner than expected.

Davis tugs on my wrist, and I turn around.

His lips brush along my cheek. “Good afternoon,” he says, giving me a proper hello.

All that nonsense about my lateness washes away.

“Good afternoon,” I murmur.

Davis leads us to his car parked along the street, and the car lights flicker, signaling it’s unlocked.

“Nuh-uh.” I shake my head.

His head pulls back in confusion.

“We’re taking the train.” My steps increase speed, and I leave him standing next to his car in complete disbelief.

“The train?”

I giggle from his shocked expression. “Yep, let’s go.” I step back toward him and grab his hand to pull him forward.

“I assumed we’d be going to the art museum?”

“Well, that art is great, but you’re missing out on some spectacular pieces by driving that fancy sports car everywhere.” I walk backward while Davis glances back to his car. “It’s fine. I thought I was in charge of this tour?”

I tug him toward me and he eventually succumbs, stumbling forward.

“With those jeans on, I think I’d follow you right into the lake.”

His steps match mine, and butterflies swim in my stomach as his fingers entwine with mine.