My Sweet Demise (Demise #1) (2 page)

I can’t tell if he’s flirting or being himself. I think he’s being himself. I retract my pout and laugh uncomfortably. “Do you know anyone who has a truck?”

“James does, but he’s not going to let me use it after what I did.”

“What did you do?”

He grabs a pair of black boots by the door and pulls them on. “I don’t remember. All I know is I borrowed it because my bike was acting up and when I woke up James was standing over my bed with a baseball bat. When I went to check it was parked in the middle of the street, the windows were busted out, and there was a huge dent in the driver’s door.” He laughs at himself. “I should really stop drinking. Come on, roomy. I’ll help you get your stuff.”

“Thank you, Kent.” I follow him out of the apartment and down the stairs to the parking lot, wondering if the ‘clinger’ from the pool was responsible for the damage to James’s truck.

“No problem. This isn’t the best neighborhood. Be careful when you’re coming home. You probably work late hours at Oblivion. You have any pepper spray?”

I smirk at his overprotectiveness. “I do. My sister Becca bought it for me when she moved away for college. She thinks I’m a trusting, klutzy idiot.”

“Why does she think that?”

“Because I’m the girl they write about in horror stories who lets the bad guy in.”

“You better not let any bad guys into my apartment. I’m the only one allowed.” He grins at me and winks one black eye.

In the dark his eyes are insanely magnetizing. I wonder how bad he truly is, and then forbid myself to ever go there again.
Bad, Raina!

I smile politely at his joke. “Thanks for the warning.”

“You’re welcome. Not every day you get one.”

“I’m not sure I need it, though. Truly bad boys don’t warn you they’re bad.”

“Maybe. Or maybe this one’s having a lapse in judgment.”

I can’t see it. He let me live here and is helping me bring in my stuff. How bad could he be? “Maybe you’re hard on yourself.”

He regards me intensely for a moment and I force myself to hold his gaze, unable to locate his pupil in that sea of dark. He looks slightly demonic, with his good looks and intense stare. My pulse speeds up.

“Or honest with myself.”

“Or that.” I take a deep, grateful breath when he looks away. No man should have eyes like that. They’re black holes you kind of want to fall in.
Must not fall in.
“This is me.”

We stop at my packed car and then together we take everything up, sharing a few looks as we pass the other. He’s insistent on making eye contact. I’m insistent not to.

“That it?” he asks as I close my trunk.

“Yeah.” To avoid him, I look at the garbage bag in my hand. “Thanks.”

“No problem.”

On our way up the stairs I can feel him staring at my body. My legs, burning the backs of my thighs with his dark, magnetizing gaze. It leaves my mouth dry and my body highly aware of his. When I look over my shoulder at him he looks up at me shamelessly.

“Watch where you’re going, Raina.”

I turn around and frown, pulling in a breath.

Back in the apartment I take the last of my things into my bedroom to escape him. I start stacking my clothes in one corner until I can get my dresser. I move all of my sheets and pillows into a cocoon on the floor for a makeshift bed. It isn’t grand, but for tonight it will do. After my room looks somewhat welcoming, I head out into the living room.

Kent is on the couch watching a football game. He curses when Miami fumbles and gives the TV the finger. I stand behind him, holding the back of the couch and watching the opposing team recover on Miami’s turnover.

“Have a seat.” Without taking his eyes off the screen he motions to the spot next to him. When I don’t answer, he glances at me. He takes in my pursed lips and wary expression and then laughs. “You see that long sectional?” He points to the end of the couch. “That’s where I fuck them. The rest of the couch is in the clear.”

Ugh. I scrunch up my nose at him. “You’re kind of a pig.”

“Oink oink.” He pats the sofa. “Come have a seat. No one’s naked body has been on this part. I promise.”

“What about your roommate?”

“James?” He smirks at the television. “James brings them to his room.”

“Why don’t you?”

His mouth thins. “Would you sit down? Sex on the end of couch. Remember that and you’ll be fine.”

Why does that particular question bother him? Not wanting to rock the boat, I take a hesitant seat next to him, ignoring his smirk. For a few minutes I sit there uncomfortably while he watches the game, occasionally peeking at him as I think of something to say. Just as I give up the door opens. A messy head of brown hair comes in. He looks at Kent, who is studying the television intensely, and then his bright blue eyes settle on me. His disgusted expression doesn’t take long to form.

Too late I realize he thinks I’m with Kent. I grab Kent’s shoulder and dig my nail into him.

“Ouch,” he grumbles, moving out from under my touch.

“Was that James?”

“The quiet one? Yeah.”

“He thinks I’m one of your girlfriends.”

“No. James knows I don’t have girlfriends. He thinks you’re a slut. Big difference.”

I gasp and smack his arm. “Kent!”

He looks at me angrily. “I’ll tell him who you are later. Relax.”

“Go tell him right now. You go tell him right now or I will.”

I refuse to back down from his exasperated stare. Eventually he gives in. He takes his phone out and texts something.

A few seconds later James comes out. He’s got a cute face, with wide blue eyes that are hesitant and unsure, and unnaturally pale skin, as if he doesn’t go out much.

I expect Kent to explain himself, but he starts out by using his hands, gracefully moving them in an unfamiliar manner as he simultaneously speaks out loud.

“This is our new roommate. Her name is Raina. I’m not fucking her. She wanted you to know.” He turns back to the TV, bored.

I sigh in exasperation. “You’re kind of a jerk too.”

James won’t stop looking at me. He cocks his head to the side, and then takes his fist and moves it around over his chest.

“I’m sorry,” he mouths.

James is deaf. I get it now. Shy was a vague description. It makes me wonder whether Kent was protecting James.

“It’s all right,” I assure him, assuming he can read lips after expecting me to do the same. “It’s Kent’s fault for being a manwhore.”

James cracks a smile and nods, agreeing with me.

Kent turns around and gawks at James. James raises one eyebrow at him. I can’t help but think it was rudely done.

“No reason,” Kent says to him. “You cool with having a girl living here? She gave me an adorable pouty face, bro. I couldn’t say no.”

James touches his cheek and then his temple, but he makes the mistake of mouthing the word “sex” as he does so. I know what he’s saying. Does Kent want to sleep with me? Is that the reason he let me move in?

I raise my eyebrows at Kent, who looks uncomfortable now. “I’d like to know as well.”

He clears his throat. “Way to put me on the spot, James. No. I don’t want to sleep with her. She needed the room. Honest,” he insists, making the sign for it.

James rolls his eyes and signs something else quickly.

“I get it,” Kent promises.

James signs again now he’s pacified Kent doesn’t want to sleep with me.

“Yeah, cool,” Kent says, signing quickly back. “I’ll ask her.”

“Ask me what?”

“If you want to go in on a pizza.”

I smile at James and give him a coy look. “You’re not going to treat a girl to pizza on her first night in your apartment?”

James’s cheeks blaze and he looks down, making that same sign again. He’s sorry. I assume he can read lips well. I wonder if he was deaf his entire life or if it happened later on. When he looks back up, he mouths: “My treat.”

I smile wide. “Thank you, James.”

Kent is staring at me like I’m either truly incredible or a mistake. When he pats my hand so James can’t see it, I think it’s the first one. I wonder if people have been mean to James. The idea infuriates me.

“I like pineapple on my pizza,” I warn them both. “With mushrooms.”

Both men groan.

I shrug unapologetically and turn around. James hops over the back of the couch and sits on the other side of me. Kent keeps sneaking glances at him as he orders the pizza, as if he can’t believe what James is doing. All three of us watch television in silence. At one point Kent enables the captions for James. I’m not a fan of football. The tight pants maybe, but that only gets me so far. My mind starts drifting toward my stuff on Camden’s lawn. If something happens to it I won’t have the money to replace it.

I sigh out loud and Kent looks at me. Blushing, I sink lower in my seat and cross my arms over my chest.

“Let me guess?” he says, putting his hand on my thigh and rubbing me softly. “I’m turning you on?”

James makes a sound in the back of his throat and knocks Kent’s hand away, spelling out a word quickly.

Kent guffaws.

I don’t understand what James said, but whatever it was, I thank him. Men like Kent don’t touch my thighs. We on principal ignore each other. I want long term and Kent wants right now. Plus there’s that pesky little secret I protect. It buzzes in the back of my brain like a hornet sometimes. Most times I ignore it. The fact that I’m even thinking about it now thanks to Kent bothers me.

I clear my throat and glare at him. “Turning me off is more like it.”

Kent nods. “It’s the couch thing, right?” He leans forward, all back muscles and mussed hair, to look at James. “She thinks my couch-capades are disgusting.”

“Me too,” James says aloud. His delivery is hesitant. I can sense his unease.

I snicker and slide closer to James, letting him know he doesn’t have to be shy around me “We’re going to get along well, James.”

Kent looks like he’s going to say something, no doubt eventful, when the doorbell rings. He wiggles his fingers at James, who takes some cash out of his pocket, and hands it off.

When he leaves I feel eyes on me. I glance shyly at James and blush when he does. James is more my type, if I was going to consider myself having one. He’s not a pig. Pigs wear no shirt, move through the apartment like sexy, carnal beasts, and have eyes so black they suck me in. I have to remind myself that despite his apparent sweetness James is still a man. Men are off limits. They remind me of everything I fear and run from.

But most of all they remind me of my parents, two people I refuse to replicate.

For one brief moment I allow myself to remember the pain of losing them and the hardship of having them at the same time. Painful memories of gross instability bombard me. My father’s abuse toward my mother, his neglect and rage, and my mother’s lack of a backbone. My heart begins to burn and my eyes follow suit. I’d been away from them for years, but my parents still somehow find a way to remind me of everything I fear.

James nudges me.
You’re not alone.
I smile in reassurance, taking my pain and burying it deep inside. That pain is what’s gotten me this far.
Just keep going
, I chant in my head.
That’s all you can do.

He holds his hands out in an odd gesture, as if he’s asking me for something.

“What’s wrong?” Kent translates, setting down two pizza boxes along with three napkins and three beers. “Why is he asking you that?”

“Nothing,” I assure James, patting his knee.

He looks unconvinced, but accepts my lie. I think he understands that not everything you feel needs to be spoken of. Some things are better left inside. To rot.

“You know what I think we should do?” Kent asks as he pushes the pizza toward James. He takes a large bite and looks at me. “Your turn.”

I roll my eyes. “What do you think we should do, Kent?”

“Have a welcoming party for you. What’s your favorite drink? I’ll tell everyone to bring it.” He raises his eyebrows at me, daring me to say no. As if that isn’t bad enough, he glances casually at the door.

Right. I’m his wingman. “Whiskey,” I lie. “I love whiskey.” Everyone orders whiskey at Oblivion. “And a party sounds great.”

I don’t drink. I don’t party. And I most certainly wouldn’t do them at the same time. But I need this apartment. It’s clean, safe, and I think both Kent and James aren’t all that bad to live with as long as I can get past Kent’s couch-capades.

Kent’s smile is wide and appreciative. He reaches over and touches my cheek with his thumb, wiping off a stray crumb of pizza crust from my face. “The goal tonight is sex. I don’t like the eager ones. I appreciate a good chase. Find me a girl I can chase and you have a place to stay.”

I take a deep nervous breath. “Sex. Chase. Got it.”

He winks at me. “I knew we were going to work out great, wingman.”

I blow out that same breath in disbelief.