STROKED LONG (31 page)

The tension in his body from my tears dissipates. His arms instinctively wrap around me, and his lips kiss the side of my head.

“Rubes, I’m going to miss you so damn much. But I promise I’m going to FaceTime with you and text.”

“You’re not going to forget me, are you?”

He sighs into me, his arms gripping a little tighter. “That’s not even fucking possible. You’re on my mind 24/7, even when I’m swimming. You’ve branded yourself on my brain, Rubes. You’re unforgettable.”

That’s all I needed to hear. I spend the next few minutes snuggled into his chest, taking in his fresh soap smell, the way his chest rises and falls with his breathing, and the feel of this skin against mine.

I want to soak in as much of him as possible before he has to leave.

***

“I must admit when I heard I had to hire an herbaceous perennial that, let’s be honest, should never be combined into a pie with strawberries, I wasn’t sure what I was going to get, but you’ve impressed me.”

Is that supposed to be a compliment? Honestly, I have no idea. The woman standing before me, holding a white schnauzer who she calls Pope Francis, wearing a luxurious red velvet robe and cheetah-print high heels, has done nothing but insult me the entire time I’m here, calling me Rhubarb, asking what box of crayons threw up on my outfit today, and asking on multiple occasions if Ben Franklin designed my glasses.

Bellini Chambers is a self-righteous reality star bitch who needs a good punch to the throat. Maybe a kick to the cooter, or a little hot sauce on her privates. No, not hot sauce to the privates, Icy Hot to the armpits. I got Icy Hot in my armpit once and it was the most excruciating pain I’ve ever experienced. Yes, I hope Bellini Chambers gets a gallon vat of Icy Hot slapped on her armpit. Oh the joy that would bring me.

“Thank you.” I accept her
compliment
.

Scanning over a Roman surplice in a neon shade of green with gold stitching—her choices, not mine—she yanks on the seams to make sure they are secure. “This is highly more suitable than the rubbish that crusty old fart tried to pass off as doggy religious wear.”

I don’t even want to know who she’s talking about. From beyond the small room under a closet she stuffed me in, I can see her little minion—Pocket, I believe that’s what Bellini calls her—poking her head in and out from behind the curve of the wall. If you want to talk about a total creep, it’s her. There is some kind of strange passion she has for Bellini. I don’t think it’s sexual just seems like . . . Pocket needs Bellini to breathe. You know how the minions need a villain to thrive? I feel like that’s Pocket, but instead of wearing overalls and giant goggles, she’s decked out in designer clothing.
Weird.

What I’m truly curious about is how on earth Reese decided to date this woman and continues to do so. There is no way he likes her. Does he? He can’t. I respect the man way too much to think of him as someone attached to this woman. What on earth would they even talk about? Throughout the entire time I’ve been sewing, I’ve heard her mouth off to her assistant—Mauve, also another name I don’t think is correct—about how the “man-fish” is ruining her production schedule. Man-fish I’m assuming is Reese. If not, I would really like to see a man and fish combined together. Would that be a merman? Hopefully with a body like King Triton. That man is jacked. Leave it to Disney to have me lusting after an older dude.

“You’re hired, effective immediately,” she states after finishing her perusal of my work. “You will need to be here every day working. I’m behind in my production and will not tolerate anything less from you.”

Okay, that’s not going to happen. I could really use the extra money, but I won’t work every day, not under these conditions.

“I’m sorry, Bellini, but I can’t be here every day; I have another job.”

Fury beats down on me and for a second, I truly am scared the devil will pop out of her mouth and bitch-slap me with his horny tail.

“Then I retract my statement, you’re not hired.”

Thinning my lips, I study her. She doesn’t seem like a person who would pay someone a compliment. I’ve watched enough of her show to know her favorite thing is to insult individuals rather than praise them.

She praised me, was actually pleased with my work. I think I might have some leverage on her. Taking a chance, I get up from my seat, pack up my sewing supplies and turn to her. “It was nice meeting you, Bellini. I’m sorry we couldn’t work something out.”

Her face falls flat and her shoulders slump.

Bingo
.

Called her bluff. For some odd reason, my sewing talent matters to her and she needs me.

Smiling brightly, I push past her to the entryway where Pocket scurries away, acting like she wasn’t spying the entire time. Such a weirdo.

“You’re just going to leave?” Bellini storms after me, her impractical heels clacking against the tile of the entryway. Who in their right mind wears heels in their own house? Prima-donna bitches, that’s who.

Keeping a professional façade about me, I turn around and smile. “Yes, I’m sorry but I can’t give in to your schedule.”

“Fine, what kind of schedule are you looking for?”

Yes, I have the upper hand. If only the cameras were rolling now. I can hear the faint cheer of America behind me.

I spend the next half hour going over my schedule with Bellini and Mauve, aka Paisley. When Bellini left the room, she introduced herself properly. I like her. She’s sweet and seems to do her job well. I look forward to working with her. Bellini, not so much.

I wound up upping my pay, decreasing my hours, and getting a free trip to Rio! Don’t ask me how I pulled that one off. It’s all a big blur. All I know is Bellini wants dog clothes made and made quickly. I used that to my advantage. The only thing that I had to succumb to? Sewing
only
when Bellini supervised me. Not a problem, I’ve become pretty awesome at tuning people out, thank you, kids art class.

I can do this; I can work for the devil in exchange for some much-needed cash. Plus, I get to see Bodi in Brazil. Images of us on the beach together, rolling around in the sand, float through my mind all the way to his apartment. It’s been a long-ass day, and I plan on spending the rest of it soaking up my Bodi Bear.

I’m so giddy. I have some news to tell my man.

BODI

“Bodi, open up!” Ruby’s voice sounds from the hallway, her little fist banging on the door. I’m just finishing cleaning so I pack away everything quickly and head to the door.

I told her about my OCD, but that doesn’t mean I want her to see it in action if she doesn’t have to.

As for my other news? Yeah, I couldn’t fucking do it, despite Dr. Auburn’s recommendation. He told me an open and honest relationship is the best kind, but Ruby’s words keep floating around in my head . . .

What does hold weight is the way you conduct yourself as a human being.

I was going to tell her about my parents. It was on the tip of my tongue until she said that, until she let it be known that she holds me to a higher standard. My actions matter to her. Fuck, what would she do if she knew the truth? The notion of her finding out twists a knife straight into my stomach.

“Bodi, open up,” her voice rings out impatiently.

Taking a quick look around my apartment, everything is in order, so I go to the door. An excited ball of long, blonde hair pummels into me. She jumps into my arms and kisses me on the lips. I’m
leveled
by her enthusiasm, by her affection.

I kick the door shut, lean over, and lock it quickly, before walking us both to the couch, her kisses peppering my face as I do.

Flopping down on the couch, I grip her hips and say, “What’s going on?”

“Guess what?” She pulls away and her eyes dance with excitement.

“Umm, you found another yarn sale?” It’s the only thing I could think of. She was super fucking excited the first time.

“Wouldn’t that be great, but no, that’s not it.”

“Then what?” I lean into the couch and watch as she practically bounces on my lap.

“I got the seamstress job—”

“That’s awesome, Rubes.”

She holds up her hand. “That’s not the best part. Since I impressed Bellini so much, I kind of had leverage to make my own demands for the job, and ended up convincing her to take me on an all-expense paid trip to Rio!” She throws up some jazz hands in the air and opens her mouth wide in a “surprise” kind of way.

Is she fucking serious? “This better not be a joke,” I warn her.

“It’s not, Bodi. I’m going to Rio.”

I study her for a second and I realize Ruby would never joke with me on something like that. “What about the Boys’ and Girls’ Club?”

“I already talked to Rita. There is a college student looking for an internship opportunity. She’s going to cover for the time I’ll be away, and with the money I will earn with Bellini, I won’t have to worry about not paying my bills.”

“I would have paid them if it was an issue,” I say, completely serious. I would take care of her. I want to take care of her. I want to be the one she leans on.

A warm smile greets me as she touches my cheek. “You’re so sweet, but I will be okay. Everything is working out. I’m going to Rio. And . . .” she pauses to do a little drum roll on my chest, making me laugh, “I got Bellini to agree to let me stay two days after your events are done so we can explore the city together.”

I’m in shock. When I was cleaning my apartment earlier, the last thing I expected to hear was that Ruby has a ticket to Rio and will be there.

“Does that mean you will be at the swimming competition?”

She bites her bottom lip and nods. “Bellini said I will be attached to her hip when I’m not sewing. I have to share a room with this creeper she calls Pocket, but that’s fine, it’s just for sleeping. I was hoping we could get a hotel room for those two days after.”

“I can’t believe this.” I rub my face, totally in awe.

“Are you happy? I didn’t overstep my boundaries, did I?”

“Are you kidding? Rubes, I’m fucking ecstatic. Come here.” She easily falls into my chest and I breathe in her sweet scent, loving the way her presence eases the tension constantly rolling through me. “My girl is going to see me swim in the Olympics. I couldn’t be happier.”

“I’m going to see you swim.” She says this as if she can’t believe it herself. “I can’t wait, but I will tell you this, if I see some ho with a sign that says
Marry me, Bodi Banks
, I’m going to have to unleash my karate chop.”

“Understandable.” I chuckle, lowering to the couch and hovering over her. “My Rubes is going to watch me swim.”

“Your Rubes,” she sighs.

Fuck if I don’t feel like I just hit the jackpot.
Fuck if I don’t feel terrified I’ll lose her.

***

“It’s so fucking hot here,” Reese says next to me, fanning himself with his baseball hat.

We just arrived in San Antonio for training camp, and it could not be hotter. The pool isn’t even fun to swim in because the sun has made it feel like a lukewarm bath.

The team is bouncing with excitement, especially the newbies, but Reese and me? We know the drill; we’ve done this already. We know to conserve energy, stay off our feet, drinks lots of water, and that’s what we’re doing.

“Unbearable,” I add, not really sure what else to say. I might be able to open up to Ruby, but other people? Not so much. Still awkward as fuck.

“Are you going to do the song and dance thing the girls have been planning?”

Since we are all part of Team USA, we practice, travel, and participate in everything with the girls, meaning, whatever stupid shit they come up with, we are asked to join in. Last Olympics they put together lip-sync music videos. You can imagine: my worst fucking nightmare. They caught me on camera looking out the window of the airplane while everyone else danced beside me, and that was the best they were going to get from me.

Rumor has it, the girls have been planning to put together another video. This time to that new Justin Timberlake song he did for the movie
Trolls
. You know, the one overplayed on the radio already.

“No. Does it look like I want to participate in that?”

Reese’s shoulders shake as he laughs. “Didn’t think you would be interested.”

“Are you going to do it?” Reese is a pretty good guy, and for some reason the media has pinned our relationship as rivalry, when in fact, we’re cool with each other. They also have sourly named him The Silver Stroke since he always earns silver at the games. If that were me, that would fuck with my head. I don’t know how he keeps coming back for more.

“Who me? That bad boy of the pool? The guy with the shitty reputation for not being a team player? Of course not.” Sarcasm drips from his voice. Another misgiving.

“Didn’t think so.”

“Reese, can we get you for an interview?” someone calls from the side.

Exhaling a long breath, Reese flicks my knee with his hat and says, “Duty calls. Catch you later, Banks.”

Slowly he gets up and hobbles over to where the interview is being conducted. The man is getting old. That will hopefully be me in four years. I’m hoping to go for one more after this. We’ll see how that goes.

Back to crossing off my list of people who still need to paint their pictures. Ruby is going to lose her mind when she sees all the artwork. I can’t wait to see the look on her face.

Fuck, I just can’t wait to see her face.
It’s been three days. Too fucking long.

BODI

Ruby: Did you know that for every human on earth, there are 1.6 million ants?

Bodi: No way.

Ruby: It’s true. Could you imagine if ants actually had the smarts to take us humans down?

Bodi: Maybe that’s what they’re doing.

Ruby: What do you mean?

Bodi: Maybe that’s why there are so many ants. They are trying to overpopulate so one day, they can overtake human civilization.