Three Little Words (6 page)

            Grinning, I headed to the ancient fridge in what was possibly the ugliest kitchen I’d ever seen. I’d shoved a six pack of Bud in before I’d even started unloading my stuff from my truck, and now I cracked open one of the icy cold cans and chugged half of the beer in one swallow.

            There wasn’t much besides the beer in the fridge, even though the new roomie had been in residence for a few days. I opened the freezer—no food there, either, just a cracked ice cube tray and a frosty bottle of vodka.

            I shook my head, not overly surprised. We’d kept in touch over the past two years, and though I hadn’t seen him in person since the night I’d found out Adele had left, and didn’t know much about his day to day life, he didn’t strike me as the kind of guy who would stand at the stove wearing an apron and cook me spaghetti with meatballs for supper.

            I suspected we’d be eating a lot of Chinese takeout. Or ramen noodles, since I was poor and Dorian shoved all his extra cash into equipment for his band.

            The fact that the apartment was in the building where Adele Cavanaugh and I had fucked like bunnies years ago was something I was trying not to think about. Even the shadow of the glittery frame that had once adorned her door was gone, as if she’d never existed at all.

            Maybe she hadn’t. To get on with my life, I’d sure as hell tried to convince myself of that.

            I finished my beer, something in my gut twisting uncomfortably at the mere thought of Adele.

            “It was two years ago, dumbass. Get over it already.” Scowling at my own stupidity, I crushed the empty beer can between my palms and kicked at a cardboard box labelled
pillows
.

            I’d never been over it—over
her
—because I’d fucked up something special and hadn’t had a chance to make it right. Add to that the fact that I was moving into her old building, and the fact that my girlfriend Emma and I had just decided to see other people, and it was no wonder that Adele was weighing heavily on my mind.

            Feeling like a complete creep, I moved to the front door and opened it. Sticking my head into the hall, I inhaled deeply.

            It was ridiculous, a figment of my imagination, and I knew it. But there, amongst the stale smell of mildew and the stronger one of cooking cabbage, I swore I could detect just the faintest hint of her strawberry perfume.

            ADELE

            The massive late afternoon line of customers suffering from caffeine withdrawal finally ended.

            “Is there a government imposed ration on coffee that I don’t know about?” I asked my co-worker as I untied the apron that was splattered with coffee and frosting. We always got a late afternoon rush at Java the Hut, the coffee shop where I worked full time, but today’s had been bordering on ridiculous. It was twenty minutes past the end of my shift. It was a good thing I hadn’t had plans, cause no way could I have left Meg alone with the thirsting hordes.

            “Whatcha up to tonight, pretty girl?” Meg smiled at me as she set the machines to brewing—our dispensers all needed to be refilled after the rush.

            “Roller derby practice.” I finger combed my hair before tying it back with an elastic that I kept in the pocket of my apron. I knew from experience that it wasn’t much of an improvement, looks wise, but at least it was off my face.

            “Wanna grab dinner after?” Meg’s voice was casual, with a hint of flirtation. I studied her for a long moment as I zipped my hoodie all the way up to my chin.

            Tall and pleasantly plump, my fellow barista looked like the former southern beauty queen that she was, all big hair and boobs and shiny teeth. On her first day at the shop she’d announced out of nowhere that she was a lipstick lesbian and too bad if I had a problem with that.

            I had blinked in surprise, but only because of the way she’d just thrown the info out there. I could have cared less if she dated men, women, or dogs, and when I’d told her as much she’d laughed that deep throaty laugh of hers and patted me on the ass in a way that didn’t offend me at all.

            “We’re gonna get along just fine, sugar.” She’d said, and we did, even though she never stopped asking me out.

            Apart from a few dinners, I mostly refused. Hell, maybe I’d take her up on it one day, but as of right now I didn’t date anyone, not women, and certainly not men.

            I wasn’t sure that I ever would again.

            “You don’t want to go for dinner with me after practice. I’ll be sweaty and stinky and ready for bed.” I realized that I’d set myself up as soon as the words left my mouth, and was already laughing by the time Meg wiggled her eyebrows at me lasciviously.

            “The ready for bed part sounds real good, sweetie pie.” She blew a kiss at me as I laughingly swatted her away, tossing my apron into the laundry bin and swinging my purse up and onto my shoulder.

            “See you tomorrow, Meg.” I grinned at her as I pushed my way out of the steamy, cinnamon scented interior of Java the Hut and into the uncharacteristically crisp air of early fall. I snuggled down deeper into my hoodie as I began to walk in the direction of my condo, wishing I’d had the forethought to bring my woolly mittens with me that morning.

            The chilly air burned the inside of my nose as I walked, my thoughts back on the crazy busy shift I’d just left. I was a self-admitted loner and so wasn’t sure where the urge came from, but I thought about turning back to the shop and taking Meg up on her invite, though just as friends.

            It was probably time to start getting out, start trying to get some semblance of a normal life back.

            The problem was that I so rarely had the urge. The coffee shop, roller derby, my condo—they were all safe.

            It took a lot for me to venture outside of my comfort zone these days.

            “Just do it, Adele. One dinner. You’ve done it before.” My steps slowed as I turned back around— my mind wanted company, but my body wasn’t so sure. Out of habit I looked across the street, at the apartment building I’d lived in a few years earlier. The one I’d fled from when my life had turned upside down.

            A young man stood on the frosted grass in front of the ancient brick, breaking down cardboard boxes, only a t-shirt standing between him and the chill.

            I did a double take.

            “What the fuck?” Meg forgotten, my feet froze in place and I stared, my heart going from zero to sixty in the time it took to suck in a strangled mouthful of air.

            He was a fraction taller than he’d been last time I’d seen him, and the long, lean muscles I’d once known were thicker, looked harder. His dark hair was a bit longer, like he just didn’t have the time or inclination to keep it short and neat.

            And it was a different pair of glasses perched on his nose, some classic wire rims instead of the preppy RayBans he’d once sported.

            But my body remembered, and unfortunately, so did my heart.

            It was Malachi Hunter. Malachi Hunter, the only guy who’d ever broken my heart.

            “Holy shit.” An embarrassing squeaking sound echoed out of my mouth, cutting through the thin, cold air, and then I felt those eyes that I’d once loved to just look into lock onto me.

            I couldn’t move. I couldn’t breathe.

            His head cocked to the side, his eyes narrowing like he was trying to place me. A pang of hurt twined with irritation bolted through my gut, followed by the more rational reasoning of my mind.

            It had been over two years since I’d laid eyes on him. He looked different, and I knew that I did, too.

            My hair was no longer the neon red I’d once kept it—I’d let it go back to its natural reddish blonde. I didn’t let it fall in a wild mass of waves anymore, either, instead preferring to keep it off my face in a ponytail or a bun.

            Gone too was the thick charcoal eye makeup, the bright red lipstick. I hardly wore makeup at all anymore, not even to derby matches—I didn’t like to be noticed.

            And my most telling feature, my tattoos, were hidden as they always were now beneath my long sleeves.

            Still I held my breath, unable to do anything but hold our stare and wait.

            Would he recognize me?

            “Adele?” The voice called out across the street, a shade deeper than I remembered, though just as capable of making me shiver. I held still like a terrified deer as the guy I’d once known melded with the man in front of me, the two becoming one as he tossed the cardboard aside and loped across the street.

            I cleared my throat, emotions that I’d thought long buried roaring to the surface like they’d never been gone.

            “Hi, Mal.” Whatever I’d been expecting, it wasn’t the big, open, still freaking sexy smile or the excited look in his eyes.

            It wasn’t the bone crushing hug that he pulled me into, either. But instead of tensing, poised for escape like I’d been any time someone touched me in the last two years, a not entirely comfortable discovery slapped me right in the face.

            It was impossible to turn back time. I of all people knew that, because I’d once gone to a casual frat party looking for this very man, dying to fix what was broken between us, and instead had been violated, shamed, and run out of town. I wanted to scream at Mal as much as I wanted to hug him, to ask him why he’d called but never come knocking at my door in the days after I’d walked out on him.

            I did none of these things. Instead, surprised at myself, I settled into hug and contemplated the fact that Mal’s arms still felt like home.

            MAL

            The punch of attraction when I wrapped my arms around Adele floored me. Like the two and a half years since I’d last seen her had disappeared in the time it had taken me to cross the street, I felt my body respond to her nearness, to her smell.

            She looked different, but she smelled the same—ripe strawberries and crisp champagne, a smell my brain associated with sex, sex and more sex.

            My cock began to thicken without any prompting from my brain, and I hastily extricated myself from the embrace. She’d appeared like my thinking about her had conjured her up, and I sure as hell wasn’t going to scare her off with my cock’s eagerness to say how much it had missed her.

            “It’s good to see you, Mal.” The faintest hint of pink flooded Adele’s cheeks as I pulled back and studied her face. She looked great, though I kind of missed the way the red lipstick she used to wear had highlighted the lush curves of those lips.

            The memory of those crimson lips wrapped around my cock flashed through my head, and I had to struggle not to groan aloud.

            “It’s good to see you too, Adele. So good.” I wanted to take her hand, wanted to kiss her, wanted to pretend that the years that had passed hadn’t happened. “Hey, do you want to come in for a bit? Just for a drink.” I added hastily when a wary look crossed her face.

            She looked like a cornered rabbit about to bolt. I couldn’t let her, not when fate had just dumped this chance to make things right with her in my lap.

            I had to know why she’d run.

            “You’re living here now?” She was clearly buying time while she made up her mind, but at least it wasn’t a no. “Why on earth would you move here when you already know how shitty the apartments are?”

            And there it was, the first mention of our past together. The silence stretched out between us, thick with tension... but the tension wasn’t entirely unpleasant.

            I cleared my throat, swallowing the urge to demand to know what had happened, why she’d given up on us so totally that she’d left town. But the look in her eyes told me that I needed to be gentle with her. I may not have seen her in a long time, but it was patently obvious that she was no longer the Adele she’d once been.

            “It’s kind of a long story.” I said. A lock of her now golden red hair escaped from her ponytail, the wind whipping it across her cheek, and my fingers itched to tuck it behind her ear. “Don’t want to bore you.”

            I had a feeling that she’d smack my hand away if I tried. I’d deserve it if she did, atoning for my past sins. I’d probably only gotten the hug in because it had been a surprise attack.

            “You’ve never bored me, Mal.” As if she’d made up her mind, Adele nodded slightly, her face set with determination... and maybe with curiosity, though that might have been wishful thinking.

            “All right. I’ll come up. Just for a bit,” she warned, twining her fingers into the strap of her purse.

            “I have someplace to be soon.”

            I didn’t care if she only gave me five minutes, it was more than I’d had when I’d woken up this morning. As I followed her into the ramshackle old building I felt elation building up in my chest, a feeling stronger than I probably should have had at running into an ex.

            But then, Adele had never been just another girl to me. It shouldn’t have been a surprise that she wasn’t just another ex, either.

            “Where are you living now?” I pushed open the door to my place, watched as Adele looked down the hall towards where the door to her old apartment was. I looked too, reminded of that night I’d shown up bearing roses and finding only emptiness.

            I wondered if the bald meathead was still the building manager. I hadn’t seen him yet. He would have been hard to miss.

            “I inherited a condo from my uncle last year. It’s a couple of blocks away.” She said absently, scanning her surroundings as soon as she walked through the door. I looked along with her, seeing it through her eyes, and wincing.

            There was an ancient couch and armchair already in place from the roomie I still hadn’t seen today, as well as a television that was way nicer than the couch and chair would suggest. Add my pile of moving boxes and the lack of any kind of decoration, and it was obvious that this place belonged to a couple of dudes.