He nods before releasing a breathless chuckle. “Good. Imagine how awkward it would be for me if you guys hated each other.”
I almost cringe.
Yeah, that’s not going to be a problem.
Caleb’s phone pings, distracting him for a moment and allowing my mind to wander. There is one question I’ve been meaning to ask him…
“Hey, why does your dad always wear fancy business attire with long sleeves if he has a casual dress code policy for the company?”
Caleb freezes, his body tensing and getting a far-away look before he seems to snap back to reality. He sets his phone back down before absently scratching his jaw. Something about the way he refuses to look at me makes my stomach tighten.
“Um, I’m not really sure that’s my story to tell,” he finally hedges.
“Oh, yeah. Of course.”
Caleb smiles gratefully before asking if I want to play another round. I agree and try not to look too curious. Does Alek have self-esteem issues, or maybe an ugly tattoo? Both are hard to imagine. Yet, I haven’t seen Alek in anything other than perfectly pressed white, long-sleeve business shirts and form-fitting trousers. I’m not complaining. He’s got this whole hot daddy-slash-professor look going on, and it works for him. But from what Caleb has mentioned in the past, Alek spends a lot of time honing his body at the gym. He has broad shoulders and muscles for days, so why doesn’t he ever want to show them off?
Somedays, just glimpsing his forearms makes me flush like I’m watching porn.
I wonder what he would look like in a pair of gray sweatpants and a loose shirt or tank top. Honestly, he could wear a paper sack, and I would still pop a semi.
And isn’t that damn confusing.
“Just perfect,” I mutter sarcastically to myself, a few hours later, while I sit inside my car and stare forlornly toward my apartment. After spending a few more hours at Caleb’s place, the sun started to sink behind the sky, my stomach along with it. It’s Saturday night, which means if I don’t keep an eye on Evelyn, she’s likely to go on another bender. Her boyfriend’s car is parked out front. Never a good sign.
My happiness from earlier dissipates as I stroll down the sidewalk toward the front door. My brain creates a mental tally of everything that could go wrong as I stick my key into the lock, my chest beginning to feel tight. The door slowly swings open and, immediately, an angry voice carries to me down the hallway and my lips pinch.
But the words I hear send a wave of fury through me.
“Stop acting like a stupid, useless cunt and figure out a way to get—”
“Kevin, stop! Luke will be home any minute and—”
“Evelyn?” I call out, my pulse beginning to race as I rush through the living area and down the short hallway. Kevin, Evelyn’s boyfriend, is crowding her against the wall in front of her bedroom. His hand is tight around her jaw, his angry, splotchy-red face only inches from her.
This fucker.
Jamming my shoulder between the two of them, my arm slams down over the crook of Kevin’s elbow. He releases a pained grunt before stumbling back. I plant both hands on his chest and shove. His eyes widen a fraction as he flies backwards, his back thumping against the wall. Behind me, Evelyn lets out an outraged little screech.
Within seconds, Kevin is in my face as he backs me against the wall. His eyes are wild and crazy, the scent of unwashed body odor wafting off him as he bares his teeth like an angry, rabid dog. There are gaps in his yellowed teeth where several are missing, and a few others look to be in various stages of decay. As I throw an arm out to hold him back, I notice the multitude of track marks along his inner arms. His light brown hair is thinning at the top, the white tank top stained, and frayed jeans baggy on his thin frame.
What Evelyn sees in him, I’ll never understand.
“What the fuck is your problem?” Kevin shouts.
I grimace. “I’m standing right here, Stoney. No need to yell.”
“His name isn’t Stoney!” Evelyn screeches.
At the same time, Stoney growls, “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll stop calling me that and stay in your own lane.”
“Yeah, no can do,” I tell him. The first time I met him, and every time after, he’s carried the distinct scent of pot on him. While I’m definitely pro-recreational marijuana, I don’t know where the hell he gets his stuff. One day, the nickname Stoney slipped out, and he got so huffy about it that I cackled for five minutes straight. It’s stuck ever since, much to Evelyn’sandStoney’s irritation.
Shoving at his arms, I manage to wiggle out of his hold and to the left a few steps. His rage-filled eyes follow me, his nostrils flaring and body tensing like he’s ready to pounce any second. Everything inside me tenses in response.
“I’ll make you a deal, asshat. Keep your hands off her, and I’ll stop calling you stupid nicknames.” I’ve never been much of a fighter, but something inside me is singing for his blood. I want to pummel my fist into his pock-marked face and knock out the last of his teeth.
But unfortunately, that won’t help anything. It won’t make Evelyn leave him, because she’s stubborn like that. I don’t want her to suffer the consequences ofmyactions, and I can’t guarantee he won’t turn on her in retaliation.
