Mia Found (Starting Fires Book 3) (13 page)

His predicament sucked. What they did was wrong and I felt bad for him, but he still used me. “Everything tonight was a sham,” I said. “You were only putting it on for them.”

“
No, I really wasn’t,” he said and walked over to my bed. He sat down and grabbed my hand, pulling me to stand between his spread legs.  Refusing to look at him, my eyes stayed focused on our joined fingers. “I didn’t even see them until we finished dancing,” he said. “I promise, Mia. I didn’t know they were there. I wasn’t putting on anything. This is real. What I feel for you is real.”

He gave my hand a gentle tug and my body betrayed me, falling onto his lap and willingly wrapping its legs around him. His hands ran up my thighs to settle on my waist. One reached up and cradled my face, compelling me to look at him. Those eyes. That mouth. All of his features. Already, within no time, he held such command over me.

“
I’m sorry,” he said and I knew it was sincere. “I won’t ever treat you that way again.”

I was too proud to say I forgave him. Maybe I hadn’t yet. All I gave him was a tightlipped nod.

He nudged my jaw with his nose and placed his mouth there. A soft, warm kiss. Slowly, he moved a trail down my neck and then up to my ear. My breath hitched as his tongue gently licked my skin. I held him close, and felt my body begin to move. Even though we were clothed, it knew what it wanted—a gentle, easy rhythm, my hips rocking back and forth.

Paul moaned, a guttural, male sound at my ear, and pushed his hand into the bottom of my shorts. He squeezed my behind and I let out a pleasured sigh, bringing my mouth to his.

When I felt myself getting carried away, I pulled back, still too bruised to follow through with anything. Paul was about to say something else but my door flung open.

“
Fontenot!” I screeched. Our breaths were heavy. Paul’s hand was still buried in my shorts. This piece of crap had no business ever seeing me this way again.

“
Whatever,” he said. “You just better come corral your girl. She’s ‘bout to start breaking dishes.”

Paul stood, helping me to my feet.

“
Well, stop acting like a jerk and maybe she won’t break any dishes.”

“
He’s not a jerk,” Fiona yelled from the kitchen, the sound of breaking glass following her outburst. “He’s a motherfucking piece of shit!”

Fontenot made a face of agreement. “Those aren’t my dishes she’s breaking,” he said.

“
Fine,” I huffed and went to her.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

FIONA’S NEWLY DYED, BRIGHT yellow hair flowed down her face and her skin looked pale and clammy. “What’s wrong?” I asked, more annoyed than anything. This shouldn’t have anything to do with me. I tried to warn her. I tried to protect her from this, but she knew Fontenot better than me…

“
Him!” she yelled pointing a skinny finger towards my bedroom. “He’s a lying piece of shit.”

“
Whoa,” I said when she reached for another dish. “Calm down! You’re breaking your own dishes. Do you think he cares about that?”

“
Get him out of here, Mia! Get him out of here right now!”

Frustrated, I threw my hands out. When did he become my problem? Knowing this would only escalate if no one put a stop to it, I walked to my room and found him leaned against my doorframe. His arms were crossed over his chest and he was wearing a cocky grin.

“
What are you smiling about?” He started to answer, but I cut him off. “Nevermind,” I said. “Just leave.”

“
Why? She’s the one who needs to calm the fuck down.”

“
I’m not calming down shit, you asshole!” Fiona yelled from the kitchen.

“
Why don’t you watch your language?” Fontenot said, egging her on. “Mamma Mia doesn’t talk like that and look how pretty her mouth is.”

“
Shut up,” I said through gritted teeth. He was only trying to rile her up.

It worked.

She stormed into our tiny hallway and began berating him. Calling him names. Insulting his manhood. Not to be outdone, Fontenot joined in, yelling right back, and not holding back either. I cringed at some of his choicer comments. Fiona was caught up in the drama and used me as a shield to smack and hit him. Fontenot let her, but was losing his patience.

Suddenly, Paul was beside me, pulling me out of their way.

“
That’s enough,” Paul said, putting me behind him. “If you’re not gonna leave,” he said to Fontenot, “maybe you should go into another room until this calms down.”

“
Fine by me,” he said and walked right into mine.

“
Not there!” I said. “Go to Fiona’s.”

She was about to protest, but Paul put a hand on her shoulder. “Take a breath. Talk this out with Mia.”

Tears came and she hugged him. Closing my eyes, I took an annoyed breath.
Poor, little Fiona
. She was in this horrible situation of her own making and needed my boyfriend to help her.

Paul patted her back, but put her in my arms. I gave her a reluctant squeeze and led her to my bed. “I’ll be right back,” I told her and walked with Paul to the living room.

“
You’ve got your hands full,” he said.

“
Yeah. It’ll blow over in an hour or so. Thank you though.”

“
Do I need to stay?” he asked.

“
Not if you need to go. I think the worst is over.”

“
Are you sure? I don’t mind.”

“
It’s fine.” I kissed him lightly on the lips. “See you soon?”

“
Definitely,” he said.

In my room, Fiona sat cross legged on my bed, fiddling with the pattern of my comforter. I shut the door and joined her.

“
Okay,” I said. “What happened?”

“
This,” she said and handed me her phone.

On the screen was a picture of Fontenot and Nicole. It was taken with a photo-sharing app I didn’t use. Wherever they were, it was daylight. Nicole was mid-laugh, her smile bright and genuine. Fontenot had his arm around her neck pulling her towards him. While she laughed, he assaulted her cheek with kisses. The caption read,
Don’t get much prettier than this chick.

I handed the phone back to her. “Where’d you get this?”

“
My friend found it and sent it to me. I didn’t even know he used this app, and it was taken today. Who the hell is she?”

I hesitated. Did I tell her? I knew Fiona. If she found out that I knew Nicole, she’d demand I call her or take her by Nicole’s house. She’d want some type of altercation.

“
He was supposed to be working today,” she said. “He’s a lying piece of shit.”

“
What did he say when you asked him?”

“
That it isn’t any of my business. That she’s his friend and I need to butt out.”

I wasn’t going to say
I told you so.
Even though I wanted to. Our friendship was on the rocks, but I could remember the good times. The nights we laughed on one of our beds, dreaming and wishing for our futures. The road trips and late night study sessions. There was a time I would have wanted nothing more than to console her. Filled with the memories, I grabbed her hand.

“
You know you deserve better,” I said. “He
is
a liar and it won’t get any better or easier with him.”

She huffed, and I knew she hated that I’d been through something similar with him—that I had any knowledge about Fontenot at all. What did she like about him anyway? All he did was toy with her.

“
I’m gonna talk to him again,” she said.

“
Don’t start a fight.”

“
I won’t!” She walked out of my room and I let her go. If I told her about Nicole or Fontenot leaving for work, she’d only find some excuse to blame me. So I didn’t. Her problems were always someone else’s fault, but I still felt the guilt of my omission. I had a selfish hope that perhaps we wouldn’t be roommates when it all blew up and I wouldn’t have to face it.

Would I live alone then? I’d never lived alone. The idea was terrifying but also exciting. Of course, I’d have to find a better job. So far, none of the companies in my area were hiring. Living alone in a new city was even scarier.

Not ready to handle those thoughts, I went to the kitchen for a glass of water. When I walked back past Fiona’s room, I heard their passionate reunion and barely contained my gag. Fontenot was manipulating her. He knew he didn’t want anything more serious and was still leading her on. “It’s none of my business,” I whispered.

As I shut the door to my room, my phone lit up with a new message.
Is everything okay?
Paul asked.
Just made it home.

Instead of texting him, I called.  

He answered quickly. “You’re all right?” he asked full of concern. “Are they still fighting? Do I need to come back? I shouldn’t have left. God, I’m so sorry. I’m coming back over.”

I chuckled. “Calm down,” I said. “It’s fine. They’re making up as we speak. Loudly.”

He let out a relieved breath. “Good. But I still shouldn’t have left you there. I keep messing up with you. It’s just... It’s been a long time since I’ve had someone I cared about in my life. I’m not thinking straight.”

He sounded distressed and I wanted to ease his mind. “I’m fine, Paul. It’s okay. I told you to leave. But…if you want…maybe you can make it up to me tomorrow.”

I heard his soft laugh, and smiled. “What do you have in mind?”

“
I’m sure you’ll think of something.”

“
All right,” he chuckled. “What are you doing tomorrow?”

“
Classes until 11 and then nothing.”

“
Hmm…I’ll call you. Maybe I can get off work early.”

“
Sounds perfect.”

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

THE NEXT AFTERNOON, PAUL picked me up and we drove to Atlantis
.
Catherine took my paintings and displayed them on the wall. “They’ll sell wonderfully,” she said. “Keep up the good work. Sometimes the local galleries ask me to feature artists I’ve discovered. If people like them as much as I think they will, you’ll be at the top of my list.”

While she and Paul caught up, I deduced that they knew each other on a personal level. Maybe that was why she purchased my paintings up front. Usually, artists were only allowed to use her space for a set amount of time. If their work didn’t sell, she gave the paintings back. Knowing this made her enthusiasm seem less genuine.

“
Thank you,” I said as we left the store.

While Paul and I walked back to his car, I was quiet, thinking. I’d been so excited, believing someone truly admired my work. But now…she was only doing it as favor. Perhaps she was only being nice, afraid to hurt my feelings in front of her friend.

“
What’s wrong, Pretty?” Paul asked, pulling me into his side.

“
It’s nothing,” I said.

“
Tell me,” he pressed, placing a kiss to the side of my head.

“
I just…What if…” I took a breath and tried to calm my thoughts. “Are my paintings good? Did she really want them?”

“
What? Yes! They’re wonderful. Of course she wanted them.”

“
But she knows you. You’re friends. She’s only doing this as a favor.”

He stopped walking and pulled me back to him. “She is NOT doing this as a favor. Catherine could care less about me. In truth, we barely know each other. When I brought you here, I took a big risk, not knowing what she would say about your work. But I was right. She loved them. And that’s because your paintings are beautiful.”

He touched my face, something I realized he did often, mostly because I could never look at him when my vulnerability bled through. I felt too self-conscious. But Paul didn’t let me hide or shy away. He treated me with care, knowing just how to prove his devotion. Small touches. Genuine smiles. His eyes were honest, unable to lie to me. Their intense green bore into mine.

Faith. Paul Macione had faith in me.

“
They’re perfect,” he said. “She’s being honest with you.”

Still unsure, but trying to be positive, I nodded.

After we left, Paul took me to the New Orleans Museum of Art. When we walked through the doors, he fell behind letting me lead. Everything was quiet and it was easy to lose myself in this place. My mind shut down and I took in the lighting, the placements, the attention to detail. Someone loved this museum greatly.
I could do this,
I thought.
How much fulfillment would I have from running my own museum?
But it was a big dream. Becoming the director of an Art Museum was no small feat.