“You’re a fixer. You would love nothing more than to fix me in any way possible, using everything you have, including your body.” Her jaw drops slightly, and I watch her swallow, trying to wet her dry mouth. I look directly into her eyes, feeling kinder than normal. She’d better heed my warning on this one. “But I would break you. And I would enjoy it.”
Her eyes are lost in mine, but I don’t falter. My chin stays held high. That was a kindness because I’m not kidding.
“I’ll find a doctor to discharge you.”
With that, she quickly exits the room, and I lean my head back against the bed.
Good girl.
“Honey, please go grab table two for me.” My boss, Mr. Howard, the greasy, overweight, overly-touchy fucker, squeezes my shoulder and gestures toward the back of the diner where I work.
I cringe at his touch but nod my head and grab the coffee pot, following orders. I need this job. I need both of my jobs just to barely stay afloat and be able to stay in college.
It’s my senior year at K-State, and I’m not going to let anything stop me from my goal of graduating.
Not even mister touchy-feely.
At least he works around my class schedule and lets me work extra shifts when I need to. It’s worth a few “accidental” brushings of my ass here and there. And hell, that’s the first five minutes at my other job at the bar. Every night.
Don’t judge me until you’ve walked a day or two in my orange Vans.
I need more coffee. I can feel myself getting bitchier and bitchier as the day goes on.
I walk back to table two, and before I even stop at the table, I know this isn’t going to go well.
“Fucking finally.”
Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me. Not today.
Last night was shitty. My best friend, Gabby, the girl who was my roommate from day one here, moved into a house with her boyfriend, Brandon, yesterday and out of the apartment we’ve shared together since our sophomore year. I’m now living by myself in a one-bedroom, studio apartment in Aggieville above the bar where I work. Every sound I heard last night had me tossing and turning all night long.
Classes are back in session tomorrow, and I hope I can figure out how to get some sleep tonight.
I’m happy for Gabby. I truly am. She found the love of her life, an epic love story I’ve only read about in books. But I’m sad for me. I miss her already, and she only lives a few blocks from me.
I don’t trust people easily and honestly, I’m really not a fan of most humans. I see through bullshit at lightning speed and prefer books to social interaction.
Case in point, the douchebag in ripped, two-hundred-dollar Diesel jeans and a white polo, with a gold watch on his wrist that I can almost guarantee costs more than most cars. His tousled, sandy hair probably took him all morning to get that fingers-run-through-it look, and his blue eyes are cold and piercing as he stares at me as if I’m somehow wasting his time.
I’d say he was physically perfect except his right eye looks slightly swollen and bruised and his large hands are scraped all to hell.
I pour coffee into the white mug already on the table and hand him a menu. “What can I get you?”
“No apology for making me wait?”
Do not commit homicide, it’s barely seven in the morning. Best to wait til after dark.
I put on my best fake, and I mean very fake smile. “Sorry for your thirty-second wait, sir.”
His forearms cover the menu on the table as he leans forward, his deep, honey-like voice capturing me in its web for only a moment. “I like when you call me ‘sir.’”
Jesus Christ. Really?
Okay. relax. He’s an entitled asshole, used to getting exactly what he wants, when he wants it. Essentially, he’s a toddler. If this were one of my romance novels, this would be the opening scene where the asshole hero tries to rattle the heroine. Now, in some, this works and the girl melts instantly at the broody, sexy asshole’s feet. But in my favorite books and really the only ones I will read, the girl tells him to “fuck off” and doesn’t fall for his bullshit.
Of course, this isn’t a book, and I do need this job.
“What can I get you?” His full, pouty lips lift in a smirk, and before he can add anything, I quickly add, “that’s on this menu.” I point to the paper menu covered in plastic with my pen before bringing it back up to the pad of paper in my hands.
He leans back into the chair. “Well, you’re no fun, are you?”
“Never claimed to be. No.”
He half-laughs at that as his icy blues scan the menu. “Eggs. Over hard.”
His eyes meet mine with a devilish glimmer. If you make a joke about being hard, I will stab you with this pen.
“That’s all?”
He nods. “Yeah.” I grab the menu and start to walk away, but he stops me with his voice. “I know you.”
I spin on one foot to face him. “What?”
“Yeah, I know you.”
He looks slightly older than me. Not by a lot, but I don’t think he’s a student. “Is this some cheesy line?”
“Please. I don’t need lines to make panties drop.”
Oh, good lord. I place the coffee pot on the table and one hand on my hip. “Okay. How do you know me?”
His confidence is annoying as his lips slide into a smirk. “Gabby.”
Shit. He did not just say my best friend’s name. “How do you know Gabby?”
“I don’t really. She is, however, fucking my friend Brandon quite frequently. They’re kind of a thing or whatever.”
My throat is dry now, and I swallow, trying to wet it. “You know Brandon?”
Now that, I can see. Brandon’s not that bad, but his story with Gabby wasn’t an easy one even if it has ended up happily. He’s a former addict who was once hell-bent on exacting revenge against Gabby’s brother Michael.
“I do. In fact, I’m staying with him for a couple of weeks.”
What? Gabby didn’t tell me that. I thought she told me everything. “Does Gabby know that?”
His large shoulders shrug with indifference. “She was there when I showed up with my bags in hand this morning. So, unless she’s completely stupid, I’d say she knows.”
Asshole. “She’s far from stupid.”
He looks bored by my comment. “I guess we’ll find out.”
I can’t threaten him right here and now. I don’t even know him. Hopefully, he’ll be gone soon and it won’t be a problem. But if he makes trouble for my friend, I will end him.
“I saw you at the last Christmas thing. Or New Years. Some shit. I swear they throw a party for every holiday. Probably even Flag Day.”
Gabby’s family is known for throwing extravagant parties. Honestly, before I met her in person, all I knew about her was that she was from Kansas City and her brother owns three huge, custom car businesses. The biggest one is in Kansas City, the other two in Oklahoma and California. Yeah, I googled them. I have a curious mind.
I was certain my roommate would be a spoiled brat, but, in fact, she’s the most down-to-earth, kind person I’ve ever met.
I grew up with my mother being a teacher and my father a farmer in a very rural area of Kansas. They struggled for everything we had, and I knew if I wanted to go to college at a big state school, I’d have to work to get it. So, I wasn’t thrilled about the prospect of having a “rich” girl for a roommate.