CHAPTER SIX
Flint
Life serves up small doses of revenge at the most unexpected moments. Tonight was no exception. Everything seems to get fucked up when my confidence wars with my fears.
“Thanks for the ride.” Ellen digs her keys out of her purse as I pull into my driveway.
“Are you okay to drive?”
“It’s my arm, not my hand. Yes, I’m good.”
I nod, feeling the same bobble-head syndrome that Harrison always has with me.
“Ellen …”
“I know. Thirteen days.”
“That’s not what I was going to say.”
She grips the door handle and rubs her lips together, that irritatingly familiar hum filling the space around us.
“It’s just …” To tell her the truth or not? That might be hard since the truth isn’t clear in my mind. “I’m good at reading people. Juries. Witnesses. My clients. But I can’t figure you out. I screwed up. I’m sorry.”
“Sorry that you can’t figure me out? Sorry that I got hurt? Or sorry that you stopped?”
I miss my wife. Ten years later and I still can’t breathe. Random women. That I can do. Women who don’t really know my life. Women who don’t know Harrison.
Ellen Rodgers has captured the attention of my son—a boy who rarely gives anyone his full attention. This situation surpassed messy some time ago. I can’t take her away from Harrison, evict her, and stick my dick in her.
It’s hard to decipher if my attraction to her is physical or if it’s how she makes my son’s day whenever he sees her. It seems ridiculous to be attracted to someone because of how they interact with a child, but fuck it anyway, I think that’s part of it.
“Yes.” I give her a tight grin and resolute nod.
“It was a multiple choice question, not a yes or no question.”
“Thirteen days.”
She bites her lower lip, shaking her head a half dozen times while opening the door. Her thoughts—her motives—remain a mystery I have no business trying to solve.
“For the record…” she ducks her head back in the car “…I didn’t want you to stop.”
*
Ellen
I will never take human touch for granted again.
A handshake.
A hug.
A pat on the shoulder.
One body connected to another in search of the most basic human pleasure.
I will not be ashamed of my needs.
“Should we talk?” Dr. Hamilton traps me in the lounge before I get a full cup of coffee filtering into my veins. “How’s the arm?”
“Fine. Sore. But fine.” I focus on the steam swirling from my favorite morning drug.
“So you’re having sex with your landlord. Surely that solves the eviction issue.” She leans her shoulder against the wall by the water cooler, cupping her coffee mug with both hands.
I chuckle, keeping my gaze on the fascinating coffee steam. “We didn’t get to the actual sex part. And while you’d think the events of last night might change my rental circumstances, they don’t. I’m down to twelve days.”
“How uh …” She drums her fingers on the outside of the mug. “How did ‘feel free to look around the house’ turn into sex in my neighbor’s greenhouse? I’m just trying to piece all of this together.”
I can’t help the grin that sneaks up my face as I look at her. “You know, just the usual banter, heated looks, inappropriate comments, and idle threats of dirtying up my shirt, all of which kinda, sorta led to a kiss, some quick ripping of clothes, and then an unexpected nothingness that left me physically off balance and dropping to the ground like a sack of potatoes.”
“You said no?”
I shake my head. “He did. Actually, he didn’t say no. It was more like a carpenter holding a nail in one hand and the hammer in his other hand, and at the last second he stops the forward motion of the hammer and lets the nail slip through his fingers.”
“He was just about to nail you but stopped at the last second?”
I laugh. “Exactly.”
“And then you cut your arm?”
“Well…” I shrug “…I was the board that fell because I didn’t get properly nailed.”
Dr. Hamilton grins before finishing the rest of her coffee. “Thank you, Elle. I haven’t had a conversation this entertaining in a long time.”
“Glad I could be of service this morning.” I grab my iPad and head toward the door. “See ya later.”
By the time I get to my office in the afternoon, my nerves won’t stop vibrating with equal parts fear and excitement.
Will he be in today?
Will he be a jerk?
Will Amanda sense something?
“Hey, Elle! Want some cake?” Amanda’s voice beckons me into Flint’s office space.
I peek around the door. Streamers and balloons line the entry to his office. “Birthday?”
“He’s thirty-five today. And I’ve already been fired for acknowledging it, so you might as well come have a piece of this fantastic birthday slash farewell party cake.”
Flint glances up from his desk, giving me an indiscernible expression.
I smile.
He looks back down at his computer.
“Wow. You’re getting the boot before me. Who will bring cake to my going-away party?”
“That’s why you’d better have a piece now. I fear there will be no party. But call me, I’ll meet you for drinks and help you find a new place.”
My gut draws tight. Amanda is serious, not about him firing her, but she’s serious about me. He’s made it clear that I’m out in twelve days.
Amanda doesn’t give me the you-two-almost-had-sex-yesterday look, so I assume it’s safe to act normal. Whatever our normal might be.
“Thank you.” I take the small plate of cake.
“It’s gluten and dairy free—for Harrison.”
I take a bite.
Flint gives me another quick glance.
“Harry has a lactose and gluten intolerance, huh?”
“Flint has him on a strict diet for his—”
“Amanda, I fired you. Why are you still here?”
She shakes her head and slings her purse over her shoulder.
My eyes widen. Holy shit. He really did fire her.
“I have a doctor’s appointment,” she whispers. “Don’t worry, I’ll be back tomorrow. He wouldn’t function without me.”
I nod slowly. “Thanks for the cake.”
“Oh …” Her eyes affix to my arm where the bandages peek out at the cuff of my sleeve. “What happened?”
“I …”
Flint eyes me like pressing the tip of a sword to my carotid artery.
“Rough sex.” I grin at Amanda. “Roleplaying taken a little too far.”
Her face flushes around her cow eyes. “You’re joking,” she whispers.
I give her a noncommittal wink.
“Okay then … fantastic. I’ll see you later.”
After the door closes behind her, I set my cake on her desk and lean against the doorframe to his office. “Happy birthday.”