Flaw (The Flaw Series) (3 page)

As soon as Josh’s door is shut, Becca sits up on her knees and begins asking questions. “What’s his deal? Does he work? Did his parents pay for all of this?” She picks up the fifty still sitting on the table. “I’m keeping this, by the way.”

I laugh at all her questions and watch her fold the bill and tuck it into her waistband. “I don’t know. He’s some spoiled kid from the rich part of town looking to prove something to himself or his parents. I’m not sure which. But at least I know he’ll be able to pay his rent every month. Or his parents will.”

“I can’t believe how dressed up he is to move. It looked like his jeans were ironed or something, and that button down shirt, I mean, really? Who’s he trying to impress?” Becca sits back on her heels and chews on a nail. “But he is sort of good looking and I do have to say those streaks of gray hair are kinda hot. How old is he?”

I shift over on the couch. I hadn’t really thought about the ‘what if” that she might be attracted to him. I figured his spoiled rich-boy lifestyle would immediately send her running in the opposite direction. “I think he said he was forty.” I say it but I know I won’t be lucky enough to have her believe me.

“Shut the hell up.” She laughs and takes a swipe at me. “I don’t think he’s any older than you are. What is he? Like twenty-two, twenty-three?”

“Something like that.” I hope to brush off the topic of my new roommate. My arm reaches around and she snuggles back into her place at my side. She drifts off peacefully next to me and I place a small kiss on top of her head. I hold out watching TV on the couch for as long as I can, until my own eyes start falling heavy with sleep. Gently I nudge Becca awake and walk her over to the door, waiting till she’s safely across the hall in her own place before shutting the door.

In bed before closing my eyes, I think back to the loving embrace Josh shared with his parents today. Pretty wild stuff. I can’t remember a time in my life when I was ever hugged like that. Not even after the incident that changed my life forever. The day where a hug, or any form of support for that matter, was needed more than ever before. The day a knife was plunged into my face and my mom sided with the attacker, who left me scarred not only on the outside but on the inside, too.

Josh

“And this is my room,” I say to the first of what I’m sure will be very many girls to be invited back to ‘my place.’ The blonde is trashed, eyes half closed, leaning on me for support. Perfect. I met her at Twisted, the bar down the road. Walking distance. No worries of drinking and driving. No worries will she or won’t she put out in my car. This is it. I’m living the dream.

“You’re so cute, Joe,” she slurs, stepping out of her shoes and climbing onto my bed.

“I am. I’m adorable,” I say, smiling. Joe is my alias. It sounds close enough to Josh so that if I’m ever busted I can just claim they heard me wrong. The fake name goes well with my fake number. This way I don’t have to deal with needy clingers stalking me once I’m done with them. And I should be done with this one in about an hour.

Clothes come off quickly. She did what I needed her to do. The only thing I had to do was lay back and enjoy.
Ah, slutty drunk girls, they really are my favorite
. I grab my phone off the nightstand to call a cab and glance at the time. Look at that, I didn’t even need an hour.

She rolls over and grabs a piece of blanket up to her chin, making herself comfortable to go to sleep.
Oh no. No, no, no
. This was not an overnight invitation.

“Um.” No clue what her name is. “Um, babe. You need to get up. I can’t have ya stay here tonight. I need to get up early and do some things in the morning. I’m gonna call ya a cab.”

She mumbles a few incoherent words and drifts off. No way. A hard shove, yelling the words “get up.” Nothing works. This girl is not budging. She is passed out cold. This isn’t living the dream. This is a nightmare. I rack my brain for a solution but realize I have no choice but to lie down beside her and try to go to sleep myself.

She snores.

I try lifting her up; want to get her to at least stumble into the front so she can sleep on the couch. Not happening. She is nothing but dead weight.
Fuck my life
. Looks like I’m gonna be the one stuck sleeping on the couch.

Inviting girls back here might not be as great as I first thought. I’m gonna have to set up some rules. Rule number one - drunk but not too drunk, because
this
is not happening again.

I make a stop in the bathroom for a couple of towels, one towel to bunch up as a pillow and the other to use as a blanket.
Un-fuckin-believable
. My body contorts to fit on the filthy old couch. This is absolute bullshit. Thirty minutes with some slut isn’t worth this. I adjust the towels a few more times before finally nodding off to a restless night of tossing and turning.

“Hey, you awake?” I feel someone shaking me, a hand on my shoulder rocking me back and forth.

“Mom?” I ask, half asleep, blinking my eyes open.

“Oh, that’s lovely.” A girl’s voice laughs. I open my eyes up and see Becca’s steely eyes and shiny lips perched in a smile. She stands up from her crouched position in front of the couch. “What are you doing out here?” she asks, looking down at me.

It takes a few seconds for why I’m out here to come back to me. I sit up and wipe the back of my hand across my mouth in case there’s any drool. “I have company in there.” I motion towards my room. “Unwanted company. Figured it was easier if I slept out here.”

“Oh, I see.” She raises her eyebrows.

“What are you doing here? Isn’t it early to be up on a Sunday morning?”

“Nah, I always make Aidan breakfast on Sundays. I’m making pancakes, want some?” Her hair is down today. She doesn’t wear it that way too often, at least not that I’ve seen. Messy loose strands that she continuously pushes behind her ear fall past her shoulders. She’s wearing a red t-shirt that says the words Bazinga! across it and faded jeans. Her feet are bare and her toenails are painted with bright orange polish. Sloppy, messy … kind of adorable.

A stir comes from my room. I freeze and suck in my breath, listening carefully. “I think she’s up,” I whisper. “Do me a favor. I’m gonna hop in the shower. When she comes out, tell her I had to leave and that I’ll call her.”

“Yeah, sure, no problem.” Becca nods her head, walks into the kitchen, and takes a bowl from a cabinet. “I got ya covered.”

“Thanks, Becks. You’re the best.” I gather the towels off the couch to use for my shower.

“What did you just call me?”

“Sorry, I think I just called you Becks.”
Why’d I do that?
“It just kinda slipped out.”

She smiles. “It’s cute. I like it. You can call me that if you want.”

“All right.” I grin. Something about that makes me happy. I’ve been given permission to call her my own private little nickname.

Most of the hot water gets used up in order for me to wash off last night’s filth. After wiping down the mirror, I take my time shaving, inspect for more gray hairs, put on deodorant, brush my teeth and I’m almost done. Plenty of time for the hook-up to be bounced out of here. A splash of aftershave finishes me off and with a towel wrapped around my waist; I open up the bathroom door and step out back towards my room.

“Great news. Mindy can stay for breakfast,” Becca calls out to me. The girl from last night is sitting on one of the stools at the counter in front of a plate of pancakes. She waves at me and giggles. I look over at Becca and she does the same thing, mimicking the one-night stand that should have been sent packing by now.

“Yeah, wow, look at that, you’re still here. Good,” I say through clenched teeth. “Let me go throw on some clothes and I’ll be right out.” All right, once more, this is not how this is supposed to go.

The girls are chatting away when I return to the kitchen. Mindy, the girl I brought home, is the typical blonde, pretty girl with a banging body. The type I tend to gravitate towards. Glancing from Mindy over to Becca it’s hard not to notice a major difference between the two girls. Becca is a pretty pop of color. You have to be blind to miss her. Mindy is just another run of the mill, ordinary girl while Becca is a stand out. There isn’t one thing ordinary about Becca. You could line her up next to a hundred girls and she’d easily be the one who stood out. She turns and winks at me from in front of the stove before turning her attention back to the griddle to flip a pancake. Damn. I swallow. Make that a million girls.

“So
Joe
,” Becca says loudly from her place at the stove. “Mindy was telling me how you guys met last night. Such a sweet story. I have a good feeling about you guys. Sounds to me like it might be a match made in heaven.”

I sit down on the stool next to Mindy and Becca places a plate of pancakes down in front of me. Mindy slides the syrup over to me and rubs my leg under the counter.
I gotta get out of here
. I’ve never done a morning after before. Last night’s smeared make-up and stale scent is not appealing. “You live far from here?” I ask.

“Not that far.” Mindy leans in and I back up. I catch the smile Becca tries to hide.

“After you’re done eating I’ll call you a cab.” I need to shovel these pancakes in and get this girl on her way.

Becca clears her throat and raises an eyebrow.

“Or I’ll drive you to your house,” I say, looking over at Becca for approval.

“Okay,” Mindy’s face lights up. “Maybe later we can go get dinner or something.”

“Yeah, not sure about later, but definitely soon.” I nod my head as if I’m actually into the idea of ever seeing this girl again.

“You should give her your number. That way she can call you or text you and you guys can set up that dinner for real soon.” Becca leans on the counter, resting her head on her hands, grinning away at me.

Mindy takes her phone out and places her finger over the screen, waiting for my number. I don’t hesitate in giving her my standard fake number and she types it into her phone.

“Send him a text,” Becca says. “Make sure you entered it in right.”

My eyes dart over to Becca and she meets my glare. How the hell did she know the number I gave was fake? Did she just assume it? Mindy types a message into her phone, hits send, and waits for me to receive it.

“My phone is in my room, I’ll be right back.”
God damn, Becca
. What the hell is she trying to prove here? I retrieve my phone that obviously does not have a text from Mindy on it and walk back into the kitchen.

“Did you get it?” Mindy bubbles.

“Yup.” I look down at the phone and smirk, pretending to read.

“Read it out loud. What does it say?” Becca encourages.

“I think I’ll keep this just between us.” I glance over at Mindy, who flashes me a devilish grin. I was right to presume that would be an acceptable response.

Mindy excuses herself to visit the bathroom and the second she’s out of sight I let into Becca. “What the hell are you doing to me?” I ask in a harsh whisper. “You’re killing me here.”

“Sorry
Joe
.” She laughs loudly at my alias. “I just don’t like seeing girls get treated like garbage. Guys like you who think they can just lie and toss girls aside like they’re nothing, well, I think they’re assholes. And it looks like you’re an asshole. Why is that?”

“Okay, first of all I never told her my name was Joe. And secondly, I’m not an asshole.” Two lies. I am an asshole. I can’t think of one of other female who I’ve ever come in contact with, aside from my mother, who hasn’t referred to me as an asshole at one time or another. But I don’t want Becca saying it or thinking it about me.

“Oh, so you’re gonna call her?”

I grit my teeth together and let out an angry breath. “I might.”

“Fine, I’m sorry. You’re not an asshole. Mindy’s lucky to have met a great guy like you.” She raises her shoulders as if to say “whatever,” and walks off, knocking lightly on Aidan’s door before stepping inside and closing the door to his room behind her.

I bang my fist on the counter. Girls have said much worse to me and yet I’ve never been phased in the slightest. I usually don’t even flinch with stuff like this. I can’t believe how much I let her get under my skin just now.

The door to Aidan’s room stays closed. I’m not sure if I’m angrier at the girl who just called me out or more jealous of the guy on the other side of that door.

Aidan

Becca marches around my room in a small tirade against some girl Josh banged last night. I try defending the guy but that only gets her more riled up. She finally calms down and climbs into my bed next me, burrowing under the covers.

“The only reason I care is because it’s just so wrong to treat a girl that way. I mean, I don’t know. I haven’t had a boyfriend in a while, not since Patrick. Is that the way guys are treating girls now? It’s disgusting. It’s wrong.” She’s really wound up. Her arm flings around my chest and she wraps her leg over mine. “Isn’t it wrong to just lead someone on if you have no intention of ever being with that person?”

I take a sharp intake of breath through my nose and hold it. Girls, relationships, hook-ups, those are things in my past. Things that were taken away from me.

“Aidan.” Becca sits up, her voice softens to a sad whisper. “Is that what you think I’m doing with you?”

“No,” I answer honestly. “Becca, I’ve never thought for one minute that we’re anything more than friends. I’ve never had any unrealistic expectations for us.”

“I’ve thought about it, Aidan. Trust me. I’ve wondered many times what it would be like to kiss you.” She places her face down next to mine. “I’ve just never been sure if it was the right move for us.”

I don’t say anything. Her lips are lined up to mine, close without touching. I’m not sure what she’s going to do. I’m relaxed. Comfortable with her closeness. She brings her lips to the base of my scar. The soft kiss she gives flutters over the jagged line carved into my skin. After a few seconds the kiss ends and she cradles her head back down under my arm so it lies by my side. I’m not disappointed to have ended things there. I’ve always understood where we stand. And I’d rather have her like this than not have her at all.