Rhodes

Chapter Three Poor Little Fool

Mila

As if I need to be more ashamed of myself, Aubrey, Brooke, Samantha, Val, and Jordan are all looking at me like I’m a charity case the second I step out of my office the next morning. “Hello to you guys too,” I deadpan. “How long do we have until our first appointment?”

Jordan and Aubrey exchange nervous glances before Jordan says, “Well, Mrs. Mayweather was supposed to come back today to get her brows tinted, but she... canceled before she left yesterday. Our next isn’t for another hour.”

My cheeks burn red as I try to straighten my spine. Every single one of us knows why she canceled, but it’s a testament to how much my girls love me that not one of them says it out loud: proper Mrs. Mayweather doesn’t want her eyebrows tinted by a woman who has sex in her office during business hours.

I wouldn’t either.

“Okay, then. You guys know the drill. Make sure everything is stocked, print out some more fliers, try again to reach any clients who haven’t gotten back to you yet about switching to Catacomb. It’s business as usual even if we don’t have any right now.”

Spinning on my heels, I head right back to my office and shut the door, but it opens a moment later. I’m not surprised to see Jordan eyeing me when I turn around. “Spill,” she says. “I was nice and didn’t grill you for information yesterday, but I have to know how you went from hiding under my desk to getting railed on yours.”

My pen cup is still toppled over from that little adventure. “I honestly don’t know. We were arguing and then he kissed me and I just... fuck, Jordan. I can’t deal with him.”

“Want me to punch him in the throat?” she asks, excitement all over her face. “He’s a little tall, but I can pull out the step ladder.”

The thought almost makes me laugh. “No. I just need to find a way to explain to him that I want him to stay away from me that he’ll actually listen to. He seems to call my bluff every time.”

“Bluff? So you don’t want him to stay away from you?”

That’s the question, isn’t it? I don’t know. Yes, of course I do, but also... no. I don’t. “It’s complicated,” I mutter. “I met him when Remi called me for help one night. She was with Jagger and a bunch of his friends and felt really outnumbered, so I showed up to help. I ended up sitting next to Rhodes and we flirted a bit, but I could tell right away he was a playboy. I lied about having a boyfriend, he didn’t believe me, and...”

“And...?”

“We fucked in the alley next to the restaurant.”

Jordan’s eyes widen almost comically before she regains her composure. “Oh, so this isn’t the first time you two have gone straight from ‘hello’ to ‘get inside me,’” she laughs. “Got it.”

“Don’t say it like that. He came out that first night and told me he wanted to hang out with me more, but when I asked what he’d want to do, he jumped straight to sex. I thought he just wanted a one-and-done kinda deal, so I agreed. He’s hot, he’s tall, and I knew he’d be good because anyone with his amount of confidence has had a lot of practice. So I agreed. It was stupid of me, but he wore a condom and I thought I’d never see him again.”

“He didn’t ask for your number?”

Sighing, I tell her that I gave him my ex Lance’s number instead of mine just to piss them both off, and about the fight Rhodes just told me about. It’s not my proudest moment, but then again... what is? I seem to keep making stupid mistakes when it comes to men. “He’s been talking to himself in my DM’s since, but some of it is ridiculous shit like grocery lists.”

“You’re not serious.”

“Oh, I am. Look.” I fish out my phone to open Instagram, then hand it over so she can look through the very one-sided conversation.

Rhodes: Real fucking hilarious. Great pussy for a dude named Lance

Rhodes: Remi was missing you at Jagger’s party last night. Are you avoiding me?

Rhodes:

José

Protein Powder

Chicken Breasts

Eggs

Rhodes: Magnums

Rhodes: I don’t know if you noticed, but you gave me your ex boyfriend’s number instead, starting to think it was on purpose

Rhodes: I swear I saw you today near my gym, but there’s no way. That chick was smiling

Rhodes: This is one of those “it’s me not you” situations isn’t it? Cause it’s definitely your fault your pussy is being deprived

Rhodes: do you still wear my shirt? Ignore me if you do

Rhodes: ha! Knew it

Rhodes: you never did hit me with your car by the way. Just full of lies, woman

She hands it back with a scowl. “What a tool. I’m real fucking sure he needs magnums.”

“Oh, he does,” I mumble, feeling the ache he left yesterday. “Trust me, he does. That thing could have its own zip code.”

“So you’re telling me he’s hot, tall, business savvy, and has a massive dick. Do I have that right?”

“Yep.”

“Then what the fuck are you doing?” she asks sharply. “You should be all over that, Mila. You deserve a guy who is going to be this obsessed over you, especially if he looks like that. What’s stopping you?”

Other than the fact that I can’t actually take his dick so sex hurts as much as it feels good, the fact that he’s a playboy and will undoubtedly break my heart, and that he disrespected the life out of me when he assumed — however correctly — that I’d fuck him in an alley before going on a single date? Nothing. Nothing at all. “He’s bad news, Jordan. I just feel it.”

“You only feel like he’s bad news because you’re so used to being alone and doing your own thing that you don’t want him to fuck it up, and you know he would. He’s the type of guy who would crawl into your skin if you’d let him. You just don’t want to lose your freedom, and that’s a terrible way to live.”

Only Jordan Yarrow could get away with being so blunt. Her round eyes make her look all innocent and sweet, but the attitude in there is brutal. “Careful.”

“Why, did I hit a nerve?” she teases, sitting on the edge of my desk then abruptly getting up when she remembers what I did here. “I’m serious, Mila. It seems like he’s really into you. Why not just ask him why the hell he doesn’t want to go on a date? If sex is what he wants, then decide if you want to give it to him. Just seems to me that you two could work a lot of things out by just talking. And then maybe he won’t cost you more business by turning Catacomb into a place for happy endings.”

Fucking yikes.

“Maybe you’re right. I just need to talk to him and see what he actually wants and go from there. Thanks, Jordan. You’re my favorite mean girl.”

She beams widely as I walk past her taking a deep breath, and if part of me hopes that he’s sleeping off a hangover instead of at work already, that’s my business.

But as I get outside and turn toward Bad Habits, I see him standing on the sidewalk, and he’s not alone. There’s a woman about my height with a bad bleach job yelling at him about something in a hushed tone. I can’t hear what she’s saying, but I don’t need to when she launches herself at him and hugs him. His expression is unreadable as he wraps his arms around her.

See? He fucked me yesterday and already moved on.

I was a fucking fool to think he might’ve wanted more.