Pierce My Heart (Women of Willowbrook Book 1) (6 page)

I should’ve locked Evan in the closet, or at least in the bathroom with me.

Not only are there more clothes scattered around the room, but Maddy had shown up at some point and seems to have been helping with the destruction.

“You know you’re both cleaning this up, right?” I ask, standing just inside the room with my hands on my hips and a disgruntled look on my face.

Maddy whirls around with a sheepish grin, hiding whatever she has in her hands behind her back. Evan, on the other hand, just looks at me over her shoulder and flings a hand in the air, as if to say, “whatever”.

“Um, I just got here. This is all Evan’s doing,” Maddy semi-tattles.

Evan whips her head toward Maddy and glares.

“Not true. You’ve been here fifteen minutes and that’s your pile over there,” Evan fires, pointing to a pile on the other side of my bed I can’t see.

Jesus.

At this rate, I won’t need a closet or dressers anymore because everything I own will be on the floor or my bed.

Maddy’s right hand flies to her hip.

“It is not!
You
handed me those clothes.
You
told me to put them somewhere because
you
said there was no way in hell she was wearing that stuff. Don’t blame
me
so
I
have to clean up
your
mess,” she shoots back.

I just stare.

Evan turns and faces Maddy, throwing both hands on her hips.

Shit.

I take a step forward and try to wade in. “Girls—”

“I didn’t tell you to put them on the floor. I told you to put them somewhere, like her bed, or better yet the trash where they belong. Normal people don’t just throw clean clothes on the floor willy-nilly.”

Maddy’s other arm comes up, points her finger at Evan, and replies, “You do!”

“Well I’m not normal,” Evan defends.

At that, I stop staring and being annoyed at the mention of throwing my clothes away, and start trying to hold in my laughter.

I don’t succeed.

Both hear my choked laugh and turn their glares on me.

Doubling over, I start laughing at the ridiculous situation.

A small giggle has me raising my eyes to see it came from Maddy. Still laughing, I straighten and look at Evan who’s trying her damnedest to fight her smile, but is steadily failing.

“Forget it. I needed to go through my clothes anyway, this just saved me from doing a half-ass job. Kiss and make up so I can get dressed and run my errands before tonight,” I tell them.

“Sorry for the mess. Evan started handing out instructions as soon as I walked in and my lack of sleep didn’t help with thinking straight. I’ll help you pick up, honey,” she kindly offers.

That’s Maddy.

Always helpful and sweet, that is when her temper, which matched her hair, wasn’t flying.

I give her a smile.

“You can thank me later for the help, B-T-W, but I’ll start by saying the pile on the floor there,” Evan says, pointing to the pile they’d been arguing about, “is a definite ‘no’. They were ‘no’s when you bought ‘em and they’re still ‘no’s now. If you keep them, I’ll have a bonfire in your backyard with them as the guests of honor.”

When I don’t fall to my knees and express my undying gratitude, but instead just stand there, she rolls her eyes.

She throws out a sassy, “you’re welcome”, like she’s solved the world’s hunger problems and then proceeds to flounce out of the room.

“Maddy and I will wait for you in the living room,” she informs me.

“She means she’ll be chowing down on the sweets you made for tonight,” Maddy supplies, reminding me I’d left them out and vulnerable to Evan.

Not that hiding them would stop her.

It certainly hadn’t in the past.  

“Evan, don’t touch them. I don’t have time to make more,” I tell her retreating back.

This time, I get a snort.

“Whatever you say, babe,” she says with the arm fling.

I listen for a minute, trying to hear if she’s gone in the kitchen but it sounds like she’s just gone and plopped down on the couch.

When I figure the desserts are safe, I turn to Maddy, who is slowly creeping out of the room.

“Thanks for the heads up,” I say sarcastically.

She freezes and turns her head my way.

I give her a look.

“You wouldn’t have gone along with it if I’d called. Letting Evan loose on you with the idea was the best plan,” she shrugs, not at all apologetic.

“Did it occur to you guys that I don’t
want
to be set up or meet anyone right now?”

Her face gentles, but her voice brooks no argument as she says, air quotes and all, “Of course it did, Anna. That’s why we went about it the way we did. It’s about time you get back out there, but I know actually getting you
out there
would be “rushing you”. There’s no harm in meeting a new, hot guy, and J.T.
is
hot
and
nice.” She starts walking again, but pauses in the doorway. When she looks back at me, the gentle is gone and a smirk is in its place. “The least you can do is look hot and show a little somethin’, somethin’ for the poor man who’s going to be stuck at a dinner table with a bunch of Pierce’s.”

And with a wink, she’s out the door.

Catch You Anywhere

I managed to finish getting ready without any more incidents, and even though I heard no noise coming from the kitchen, I have a sneaking suspicion that most of the desserts are gone.

I still have to buy toffee to make the brownies, so Nate may not get a ton of cupcakes, but there’ll be plenty of chocolate goodness to go around.

I double check myself in the mirror before leaving my room, making sure what I’m wearing works for me.

After my awkward high school years, dressing to fit my body has become almost an obsession. I’ve found that when I wear something that flatters me, I have more confidence.

Not the kind of confidence that’ll make me walk up to some hot guy and attack his mouth with my own, or even say hello, but the kind that lets me hold my head up a little more than usual.

When you’ve struggled with confidence and self-esteem all your life, every little bit counts.

Grabbing my favorite pair of dark wash flared jeans, I paired them with a wide black belt unseen—because of the white tank I’m wearing under my black V-neck tee.

I love heels as much as the next girl, if the next girl loves wearing them for no more than a few hours at a time (most of that sitting down) and sighs in relief every time she takes them off. But, heels do not work with the errands I’ll be running, so I grab my shimmery black Converse—that Mom has a matching pair of—and finish it off with my gauzy red shawl. The weather is starting to turn, but it still isn’t quite cold enough for a jacket.

And since I am who I am, I rarely (as in, unless I was hitting the gas station ten minutes away, and even then sometimes) leave the house without my rings, so I slide on my usual five for my left hand and three for my right.

It’s a light ring day.

Rings may be an addiction (I always find myself trolling windows looking for something new that doesn’t cost a month’s wages), but that doesn’t mean I shy away from other jewelry. My semi-long silver chain that has a small heart made of my birthstone dangling, hangs from my neck, the
Pandora
charm bracelet my mom and Gran added to every year, and my white and silver
Fossil
watch with the silicone band both sit on my left wrist.

I’d never been one for crazy antics when I was young, keeping to the safe and narrow when it came to tattoos, piercings, and the like, but at eighteen I got a second piercing in both ears and at twenty-two I added a third, as well as a helix to my right—still fairly tame compared to what I’ve seen on other people.

My earring tastes are pretty simple and today is no different.

Looking at myself, taking everything in, I can’t help but let out a small sigh.

I don’t look
bad
, and it all works in a way I like, but the overall package just always feels like it falls…short.

Having a tummy, I’m lucky the food I indulge in doesn’t discriminate in where it settles; my ass and chest are equally (if not more so) abundant. Unfortunately, it attracts the
wrong
kind of attention from most guys.

I’m not ugly by any means, but I’m definitely no Maddy or Evan.

Maddy has the whole redheaded, pale skin, classic beauty, built with curves thing going on, and Evan is all slim and curvy, dark hair, and exotic looking with a booty most men couldn’t help but stare at.

Then there’s me.

I got over any envious feelings of their beauty long ago. I was happy my brother was blessed with the love of Maddy and likewise for her, and that my best friend was as beautiful on the outside as she was on the inside, but a part of me just wishes I had more to work with. I’m not tall and built or short and adorable, I definitely am no classic beauty, and I’m so far from exotic it isn’t funny.

I’m…
cute
.

At least, that’s what I’ve always been told.

My body shuffles toward the mirror above the dresser as my hand drifts towards my face, running over my features. Cheekbones that go a little chipmunky every time I smile wide, a nose that’s less button and more bump-in-the-bridge, lips that are a ‘pretty in pink’ but not as lush as I would like, and a smile that is bright, shiny, and straight thanks to my dentist and my obsession with brushing.

Thank God for orthodontists and whitening toothpastes.

When my gaze locks with itself in the mirror, I feel my lips curve into a smile.

Out of everything I’m working with, my eyes are my favorite feature.

Partially because I’ve lucked out huge with my dad’s thick lashes, but mostly because of the fact that they are close to my mother’s coloring.

At first glance they look brown, but when you get close enough you can see the dark brown outer rings that lighten towards the iris with flecks of brown thrown in, before you hit a small ring of deep honey brown surrounding the pupil.

Every time I really focus on my eyes, a feeling of warmth creeps over me knowing they’re a part of both of my parents.

Figuring I’ve spent enough time dissecting my appearance, I leave my room and head towards my kitchen where I left my camel leather, cost-a-fucking-whack, fringed purse.

It was big, it was slouchy, it felt awesome and it looked even better.

Worth every penny.

I hit the mouth of the hallway and don’t catch sight of the girls, but when I move further into the room I see why.

They’re huddled over the plate of cupcakes (like I expected them to be) but turn around when they hear me enter.

Maddy’s mouth is wide open with a cupcake—already missing a huge bite—held inches from her mouth, and Evan’s cheeks are puffed out like a squirrels’ stuffed with nuts.

She must’ve shoved the whole freaking thing in her mouth when she heard me coming.

I decide to ignore it and wander over to my purse on the breakfast bar, noticing a paper sticking out as I get closer. Trying to remember what I’d stuffed in there—besides the millions of receipts, lipsticks, gum packets, hair ties, and bobby pins I shove in there on an almost daily basis—I snatch it up and realize it’s the flyer for adoption days at the local pound. I’d completely forgotten about it with all my baking yesterday and then my company this morning.

I check the time on my watch. Seeing as it’s barely ten, I figure I’ll stop by the store and grab the stuff I need before heading over there to check it out.

My eyes lift when I hear movement, and I see Evan trying to choke down her insane, ridiculous ‘Evan-sized’ bite.

Shaking my head in amusement I set the paper down, move around the breakfast bar and to the cabinets above the counters to grab a glass before moving to the fridge, filling it with water, and handing it over.

I get a “rhung chuu” in response and can’t help my small laugh.

“You’re getting a dog?” is the question I hear from my right.

I look over to Maddy and see she’s holding the flyer in one hand and stuffing the last bite of cupcake in her mouth while she watches me, waiting for a response.

I shrug.

“I don’t know, I thought I’d go check it out. I’ve been thinking about getting some kind of pet for a while. Reptiles are a definite no, so are birds and rodents, and fish just swim around. I haven’t decided if I would get a cat or dog, but I figure if I go I’ll find out if I want either or none at all.”

“I think it’s a good idea,” she says with a smile.

A choked cough has us both looking to Evan, still working on swallowing everything.

She just waves us off.

“Why do you think that?” I wonder, looking back at her.

Maddy pauses to swallow the last of the cupcake. “Animals are great companions. I grew up with dogs and a few cats, and I loved all my time with them. Cats are a bit higher maintenance and dogs can be ridiculously loud if they bark at everything, but both can be sweet, loving, and cuddly.”

I was a little envious of that. We’d all wanted a dog when we were growing up, but between everyone’s schedules, Mom and Dad decided it wouldn’t be fair for the dog.

“I’m leaning more towards a dog. After the incident with a kitten claw getting shoved into my neck, I’ve kinda shied away from cats. I’m not hip to getting claws dug into me every time I’m feeling a cuddle. But, I’m not sure if I want a puppy that I have to train or a dog that’s already been housebroken, for my first time,” I tell her.

“Puppies are so cute!” Evan squeals after she’s finally finished emptying her trap.

“Yeah, but she’s never had a dog. Puppies take a lot of time and a lot of training. Getting a dog that’s already got some training is a better choice for her,” Maddy reasons.

“So?”

“Are you going train the dog to go to the bathroom outside, or clean its accidents for her?” Maddy asks with a raise of her eyebrow, knowing full well Evan would rather give up a loaf of my lemon glazed pound cake before cleaning up a mess of the waste variety, though she has no problem cleaning up after her guinea pig; she dotes on that thing.

Why is it whenever we get together, they always end up arguing about things involving me like I’m not feet away from them?

Evan keeps silent, but no one misses the annoyed look on her face.

Maddy has a small triumphant smile and a look that says, ‘I thought so’.

She’s definitely a perfect match for Robby.

“I’m not even sure I’m going to adopt a pet today. I’m just going to look while I’m out since I have the time.” I look at my watch again. “Speaking of time, we need to get a move on so I can do everything
and
make it back in time to bake the brownies, otherwise I’ll have to listen to Robby bitch all night.”

Maddy, knowing I’m right, gets in gear and moves to the living room to grab her purse. Evan most likely had dumped her shit by the door when she walked in (girl didn’t know how to hang a coat or set a bag on a table), and I take that guess as truth when she doesn’t make a move to, well, move.

I grab my bag from the counter, along with my keys I’d tossed there, as I look to Maddy and say, “You’re more than welcome to come with us. We’re just hitting the grocery store and shelter before coming back here.”

Her head turns to me but she continues towards the hallway, a smile on her face as she shakes her head. “Thanks, honey, but I’ve got a ton of crap to do at home. Saturdays are really the only day I can get all the housework I need done without interruption. I just wanted to pop over real quick since I never called you,” she explains, her smile turning sheepish.

I know she’s talking about siccing Evan on me for the set up, but I wave her off. After all, I’d done the same thing in the past. Just not to her.

“Alright then, I guess I’ll see you tonight.”

“We’ll see you tonight,” Evan throws in, walking up to us.

“Since when were you invited?” I ask, flicking my gaze her way.

“Since when do I need an invitation? Besides, no way I’m missing tonight so suck it up, sister. Now, let’s go. You’ve got brownies to make and I’ve got spoons to lick.”

Maddy giggles.

I don’t know whether to laugh or cry.

But, she’s right.

I have brownies to bake and she will inevitably lick the spoons.

It’s time we get our butts moving and get to it.

*              *              *

After setting a new record of getting in and out of the grocery store, we headed for the shelter.

I just pulled into a parking spot when Evan lets out a low whistle. Throwing us into park, I turn my head her way to figure out what she’s whistling at, and what I see has me screwing my face up in confusion.

She’s halfway turned in her seat, practically glued to the window that faces the entrance of the building.

I twist further in my own seat to see what she’s staring at and freeze.

On the left side of the door leading in is a table surrounded by male beauty the likes I’ve never seen.

There are three of them. An insanely tall, tan (who looks Italian based on the olive tint to it) man with arms that scream muscle, a shorter—but not by much—Spanish man with long black hair tied back, but it’s the guy in the middle who stands out to me.

He isn’t the tallest of the group, but he isn’t the shortest either, putting him around 6’2 or 6’3—well above my own height. He’s tan; a tan you worked outside all day to get, not laid around working for. Dark hair that looks like it’s past due for a cut, judging by the waves—I can’t tell if it’s black or brown from my vantage point in the car, but it looks thick and soft and my fingers twitch with the urge to find out. His arms (and body, if the thickness of his thighs have anything to say) don’t scream muscle, but they’re definitely shouting it. So loudly, I’m not sure if the man has an ounce of fat on him. Looking at his profile, from what I can see, he has a few days’ worth of stubble around his jaw and mouth, but when he turns towards the car, likely wondering why no one is getting out, my breath catches.

He’s smiling.

That’s it.