Rex (28 page)

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Authors: Beth Michele

BOOK: Rex
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I have plans.

 

Bullshit.

 

I do have plans.

 

Okay, then tomorrow night?

 

I can’t. I have work to do.

 

So when can I see you then?

 

I don’t know, Rex.

 

Fine.

 

What the hell else am I supposed to say?

Frustration surges through me with the uncontrollable force of a gale wind and I toss my phone onto the table, only to end up picking it up off the floor. When I push to my feet, Zeek is right behind me.

“You okay, man? You seem a bit edgy.” He sizes me up with his deep green eyes.

“Yeah, I’m good, thanks. Just ready to get to work.”

He clasps my shoulder, forcing my eyes his way. “Listen, I know how frustrating they can be. I’ve got more than I can handle with Tabitha. Sometimes she has me so twisted up, I don’t know if I’m coming or going. And, I prefer to be coming,” he jokes, squeezing my shoulder again.

“Yeah, I hear you on that one. Thanks, Zeek.”

“Don’t mention it.” He walks toward the front of the shop, then swings his head around. “Hey. You want to hang out with Tabitha and me tonight? I want to watch a ball game and she hates baseball. It would be nice to have some more testosterone in the room. If you don’t have any plans.”

“Sure. I’ll come by.” Because I definitely don’t have any other plans.

Not more than a minute later, the sound of my brother’s voice alerts me to his presence and I glance toward the door where he’s chatting with Zeek. He heads toward my station, his face set in determination. Of what, I have no idea.

“Hey, bro. To what do I owe this honor? Two visits in less than a month to the other side of the tracks. You feeling okay?” I chuckle, and he shoots me his signature older brother smirk.

“I actually just came by to check on you. The last time I saw you, you weren’t in the greatest shape.” He leans back against the counter, one hand in his pants’ pocket, legs crossed at the ankles.

“I’m all right,” I volunteer, which is a load of shit and he already knows it. “I went to see Dr Billings.”

“Oh yeah, how was that?”

“It went well in that Dr. Billings sort of way. It always does when I’m in there, but the moment I step out into the real world my shit clings to me again.”

“More importantly though, did you talk to Vanessa?” And just the mention of her name has me shifting on my feet.

“Yeah.”

“And, how did it go?”

“Hmph… not well.” Regret rolls off my tongue. “She doesn’t want to have anything to do with me right now.”

“I’m sorry, man. But you can’t blame her, can you? You were pretty harsh.” His voice is sympathetic, but his words cut me deep because I know he’s right.

“Yeah, I know. Do you think Olivia might put in a good word for me?” I ask, my jaw clenched so tight my teeth are beginning to hurt.

A frown settles around his mouth. “I think she already did.”

“Well, from the look on your face, I’d say it didn’t go well.” And without realizing it, I’m digging my fingers into the back of the chair so hard it could leave a mark.

“Olivia said she’s got a mind of her own.” He picks up my sketches from the table, admiring them. “She’s not easily swayed.”

That’s my girl. Or at least she
was
mine. The thought makes my stomach harden.

I snag the seat in front of Hunter, dropping down with an annoyed breath. “Yeah. She’s pretty much ignoring my texts. Maybe I should just give her the space she needs.”

“Or maybe you need to step up your efforts.” He drums a foot against the floor, grinning smugly. “Since when do you ever take things lying down, Rex? You’ve never had a problem going after what you wanted before, so what’s different now?”

 

 

Hunter’s words stay with me the rest of the day, long after all the customers have gone and I’m closing up the shop alone. With nothing but time and eerie silence swirling around me, I realize he had a point. I don’t sit back and wait for things to happen. But in this case, for whatever reason, I’m worried about being rejected. Then again, what have I got to lose?

I slide the screen on my cell and type Vanessa out yet another text.

 

Go out with me.

 

Her response is immediate. I’ll take that as a good sign even though her words are not encouraging.

 

No.

 

I try to be playful.

 

That doesn’t sound very convincing. Is that a maybe?

 

No.

 

Well, that didn’t go well. I guess there’s always tomorrow.

 

 

 

It’s been six days since I’ve seen Rex, not that I’m counting. Nights are the hardest. When I close my eyes, I can see that lopsided grin, feel his lips against mine, the pressure of his rough hands trailing my body. I’ve been spending a ridiculous amount of time with Olivia and Ryder, and they’ve been terrific. The sting is still there, but somehow it helps me forget, if only for a short time.

Every day Rex sends me messages and I continue to come up with excuses as to why I can’t see him. I know that if I give in, I’ll crumble and fall into his arms.

So much for being strong.

I have no idea what we had. But I know it was more than sex and it was starting to mean something—to me. That’s where I fault myself. I should’ve known better because he’s too messed up in his head. There were so many signs along the way, but I chose to ignore them.

I’m one to talk really. My past isn’t sparkly and glittery, laced with fairy tales and kisses goodnight. There were no blankets of unconditional love wrapped around me, keeping me warm and safe. For me it was the chill of the unspoken word, a house weighted down by silence. Strangers pretending to be a family.

My chest seizes up at the memory.

 

I pressed my hand to the glass, watching Patty play ball with her dad, and my belly started to hurt. She looked like she was giggling and having so much fun and I wanted so badly to be her. My lips dropped into a pout but I tried to smile big when she looked up at the window and waved to me.

The screen door slammed and her mom came outside with a happy smile, and I wanted that, too. Even though I couldn’t hear Patty from there, I knew what she was saying because it was Sunday and on Sunday her mom always made brownies. I let out a big breath, staring at the hard ground, wondering if I jumped, if my parents would notice, if they would even care.

 

I can practically still smell the melted chocolate from the brownies her mom made every Sunday. Such a simple thing, but to me, it was everything, because I never experienced it yet longed for it so desperately.

Now I’m older, but the feeling is the same—a physical ache in your gut from wanting something so badly, and in this case, even when you know it’s probably not good for you. And that’s the fucked up part about all of this. I actually think Rex could be good for me. He brings out qualities in me I didn’t know I possessed, makes me feel things I didn’t know I was capable of, makes me want things that absolutely terrify me.

I grab onto the edge of my desk, inhaling a deep breath through my nose and exhaling through my mouth. That’s what this is all about. This is my fear talking. After what happened, I’m afraid to fall because somewhere deep down, I know he could be the one to truly hurt me. The other night is glaring proof of that.

“You all right, Vanessa?”

Tillie’s voice ships me back to the now and I release the death grip I have on my desk. “Yes, I’m good.” I flap a hand in her direction. “Come in. So,” I continue, slapping a smile on my face. “You ready for the Hamilton launch tomorrow night? This is the big time.”

“Yes,” she says, her enthusiasm bursting through her grin. “I can’t wait. I have my dress and shoes all picked out, and I’m getting my hair done right after work. If I know you, you’ve got everything done right down to the last letter. This event is going off without a hitch.”

“Yes, which reminds me.” I glide my chair up to the computer, clicking my to-do list on the desktop. “I need you to finish putting the name tags together. That’s the last thing on my list. Can you have that done by tomorrow at noon?”

“Absolutely!” She springs up from the chair, continuing to chomp on her gum. “I’ll get to that right now.”

“Great, thanks. Oh, and Tillie,” I remind her, and she spins around just as she reaches the door, her red ponytail flapping in the air, “don’t forget, no gum tomorrow night.”

She clicks her heels together, a hand to her forehead in salute. “No worries. It shall be done.”

A nostalgic smile crosses my lips at her eagerness, remembering when I first started out at the company seven years ago. Even then all I could think about was rising to the top, working my way up and getting my own office with an actual window. Maybe even a decent view of Manhattan. And I made it happen. I’d love for Tillie to have the same success.

I finish printing out the list of attendees for the party when my cell phone alerts me of an incoming text. Without looking, I already know who it is. And of course, I’m right.

 

Go out with me.

 

I shake my head at his persistence and even smile because there’s no one here to bear witness to it. Then I type back a reply. The same one I’ve sent all week.

 

No.

 

Not more than a second later, he responds.

 

You know you want to.

 

I bust out laughing so loud, anyone listening might think I was crazy. He’s completely incorrigible. My fingers get busy on the keypad.

 

No I don’t.

 

Come on, go out with me.

 

No.

 

My fingers parade along the edge of my desk as I wait for his reply.

 

Okay.

 

Time stops when I see his response. I think my heart does, too. Panic swells inside of me, causing my limbs to feel shaky, and I’m sitting down.

I type back with hesitant fingers.

 

Okay?

 

Yeah.

 

What the hell does that mean? Is he giving up? And what’s wrong with me? I’m the idiot that’s been saying no and pushing him away. I can’t expect him to follow me around like a puppy dog with his tail between his legs.

I’m about to bite my newly manicured fingernail when I think better of it. Instead, I bury my cell phone in the depths of my purse and get back to work, attempting to push Rex Grayson out of my mind.

Since I can’t get him out of my heart.

 

 

“Thanks for meeting me,” I tell Olivia, as we sit on the cushy leather sofa in the lobby of the Clark building where the event is being held tomorrow. “Here.” I hand her the latte I picked up from Starbucks. “Mocha Frappuccino, extra chocolate.”

“Thanks, V.” She winks before taking a sip. “Just what I needed. Geez,” she settles back, adding, “I feel like I’ve seen you more this past week than I have the rest of the month combined. Hunter’s feeling a bit neglected.” She laughs as she crosses her legs, her foot bouncing in circles. “But he’ll deal.”

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