Rox (Nameless Order: Heart Chapter #1)

7. Roxie

Seven

Roxie

“ I ’m sorry, you did what?” Manda asks me. She’s giving me a look like I’ve fucked up royally, and truth be told, I feel that way. I had him right there, wrapped around me, and I walked away. I was feeling everything and stopped it all. All the passion was washed away like a tsunami hit. Somehow, I allowed Angel to get in my head and ruin something that had the potential to be the best I’d ever have. “Girl, what the fuck? Like, what the actual fuck? Mimic obviously wants you. What were you thinking?”

“Obviously, I wasn’t. Or I was too much? I don’t even know. Angel showing up and saying all the shit he did, he got in my head,” I tell her sheepishly.

She lets out a dramatic sigh as she throws her head back before looking at me again. “Look, I get it. I was there. I understand this weird way of life we live, but babe, you can’t give Angel that much power. He’s so out of touch right now. It’s clear he’s struggling more than normal. You can’t take anything he says seriously right now.”

“While I know that, deep down, it’s also hard not to. He’s been in my life for so long and protected me when I needed it. Our lives are pretty similar, and it’s hard not to listen to him. I see his pain, and I don’t want to end up like him.”

“I get it, but you’re nothing alike. Sure, shits happened that’s fucked as all, but you two are still very different. I know he cares about you, but with whatever is hurting him right now, you can’t allow it to alter your decisions.”

I know she’s right, but what’s done is done. I already told Mimic we needed to stop, and I needed to figure my shit out. I can’t go back yet. I’d look desperate, or like a liar, or as someone who doesn’t know what she wants. And with our age difference, the last thing I want is to make him think he’s wrong and I’m too young, too immature for him.

“It’s clear you like him.”

“If it’s so clear, why didn’t it become clearer sooner? Why is it after he stood up for me that I noticed him?”

She sits there for a moment, clearly thinking of the best way to answer. She takes a sip of her wine, then rolls her wrist inward, placing the glass on her cheek. “I think it was simply the push you needed. You’ve been guarded regarding these men, and for good reason. We’ve had the talks before about how sexy they are and how attractive the guys back in Wyman are, too. You honestly can’t tell me you forgot about my obsession with Daddy Artem.”

I immediately started laughing because I had. She was so obsessed with that man. “I did. Oh my God, how could I have forgotten about that?”

“Fuck, he’s so hot. I wonder what he’s doing.”

“Not you,”

“Bitch!” She mock yells at me before wiping away a nonexistent tear from her eye, “I know, though. I wish.”

“I’ll make sure your husband never finds out.”

She waves her hand dismissively and takes another sip. “Naw, it’s fine. I know what I’ve got, and I love it. Anyway, we’ve had those conversations. You’ve said before that you find Mimic attractive. But you’ve been so reserved in allowing yourself to want a man because of your past. I think you naturally put your shields to keep yourself safe. Mimic broke through those shields, and you were able to see him more clearly. It was the push you needed. But deep down, you’ve felt this way about him.”

Thinking about what she’s laid out, I think she’s right. While I forgot about Daddy Artem, I didn’t forget about our late-night talks about the men that surround us almost daily. Mimic has always been the one who I’ve gravitated to, but she’s correct again with her comment about my shields. With what happened before, trusting people with my heart, mind, and body isn’t easy. Could it be that I was giving him a test without realizing it, and he passed?

“How long do I wait before I go back to him, though? I don’t want to look desperate.”

“Are you kidding me? That isn’t possible.”

“How so?”

“Look, it’s not obvious to any of the men here, but they’re stupid boys so that checks out, but it’s clear to me. And your mom—”

“—What!”

She again waves her hand dismissively, “Please, she’s good with it. I’ve seen the way she reacts to you two. Trust me, she supports it. Anyway, not clear to the men, clear to Mom and me, Mimic is obsessed with you. Probably already in love with you. It’s physically impossible for you to come off as desperate to him. He will give you everything you ask for and everything you don’t. You don’t need to make him wait.”

Taking a large gulp of wine, I finish off my drink, “You think?”

“I know.”

I smile at that. Thinking back to how I felt before Angel showed up and pulled that assbag stunt, I was so happy. It felt real, it felt right, it was perfect. Being in his arms, even though he smelled like absolute horse shit, I had never felt better. He’d given me so much just by holding me. His lips on mine gave me something else entirely. Something I’ve never felt before.

“I want him so bad, Manda.”

“Girl, you act like that ain’t obvious.”

“But what if it doesn’t work out? What if he realizes that I’m not worth it?”

“Um, no. Don’t start that shit. We’re not gonna play this game. You’re not some hard person to take care of or love. You’re one of the best people in the world, and if I liked vaginas, you’d be mine. But alas, I don’t, so you have to settle for him.”

“I don’t know if I’ll ever recover, to be honest.”

“I know, but you must. For the sake of your orgasms, you must.”

We continue to shoot the shit for another hour or so before her husband picks her up. I hop in the shower, and once I’m out and slightly dry, I take a long look in the mirror. Could I give him everything he wants, everything I crave, and not allow others in my life to influence it?

Fuck yeah, I can. I’ve been doing things my way, on my time, for years now. I’m not going to let anyone stand between me and Mimic. I want him. I crave him. And if Manda’s right, he wants me just as badly, if not more.

If his shouting after I left was any indication, I could tell him to come here now, and he’d be here in an instant. Smirking to myself, I pick up my phone off the counter. Pulling up his contact, I hit message. I pull back enough that he can see my body, but I’m covering all of the pieces that will drive him wild. My pink hair is still wet, and water drops from my hair are on my stomach. I snap the picture and hit send, followed by a simple text.

I’m wet, and I want you. Now.

Not even thirty seconds later, I have my reply.

On my way.

I can’t help the schoolgirl giggle, which pops from my lips in his reply. I know some talking needs to be done, but I’m not thinking with my head right now. I can feel the pulse between my legs more at the thought of him. What would he do to me without clothing blocking the delicious friction I crave? A quick knock on my door snaps me from my thoughts. I look down at the towel I dropped, and I debate for a split second on answering the door naked. But then remember that I live in a family neighborhood, and it’s still early. I grab my robe from the bathroom door and walk down the short hall to the front door.

The frosted glass on the front door shows me the shape of the person waiting for me, and I don’t see Mimic’s tall, bulky frame. This figure is shorter with broad shoulders. My shoulders sag because I know who this is, and I am not in the headspace to deal with him. Especially with who is coming over with what I can only hope is a long, hard cock ready to do unspeakable things to me and my bits.

“I can see you standing there. Open up,” his voice cuts from the other side of the door, killing the last of my lady boner.

“Hi, Dad,” I murmur as I open the door just enough to look at him but not enough to allow him to come in. Does that stop him from pushing the door open and walking right past me? No. “Please, come in and make yourself at home,” I tell him sarcastically as I roll my eyes.

“I know you and I haven’t seen eye to eye lately. I wish we could meet somewhere in the middle. It’s been weighing on me more and more,” Dad starts as he paces back and forth behind my couch. I close the front door and lean on it. He isn’t even looking at me. Knowing him, he rehearsed this speech, needs to get it out, and nothing is going to stop him until he does.

“The guys told me you were at the clubhouse last night. You showed up and then left. Actually, you didn’t even make it to the clubhouse. You pulled into the drive, stopped, and then turned around and left.”

When Angel showed up and started bitching, I almost understood it. Once I realized he’d been drinking, I really understood it. But this? This is borderline creepy as fuck. This immense helicopter parent thing he’s doing right now is doing nothing but piss me off. Judging by what he’s saying, he does not listen to himself talk. If he did, he would hear how damn insane he sounds right now, giving me a play-by-play of my driving. I’m positive my face isn’t hiding how this is making me feel, but he doesn’t notice as he continues.

“Angel went to check on you, but you called your mother, and he was dragged away. But no one would tell me why you showed up on the property only to turn around and leave. Not to mention, I have no fucking clue where Angel found you, he doesn’t remember, and your mother won’t tell me.” I smirk and he continues with his rant. “Your mom said you were safe when she picked up Angel, but that’s all she’ll tell me.”

“Yeah, well, I was perfectly fine,” I cut in and tell him, but it’s as if he doesn’t hear me.

He lets out a sigh, scrubbing his hands on his face, and his tone changes, “I can’t shake the feeling that you needed help, and you didn’t call me.” With that, he stops and looks at me. I can’t explain the look in his eyes as he looks at me for the first time since he barged into my home. “You needed help, and I wasn’t your first call. I have always been your first call, and there was nothing. I am now seeing how hurt you are by this, by this fight. Because I broke the trust you had in me, I wasn’t your first call.”

While my heart kinda breaks at how defeated he sounds, and I hate how it got to this point, I can’t help but be mad as hell. He’s assuming that something was wrong. I only showed up because I was in trouble. Sure, it’s exactly what happened, but it’s annoying that he immediately came to that conclusion. Also, it shouldn’t have taken me being in some form of danger for him to see how broken our relationship has become. So sure, I’m happy he’s seeing it, but he raised one stubborn and overly petty daughter. I’m a bitch, and at this moment, I don’t care about him being my dad. I care about him showing up for some bullshit reason.

“As I said, I was perfectly fine. Did it ever occur to you, even once, that I changed my mind? That I no longer felt like coming over? Or was it ever a thought that maybe something came up after I turned in, so I left to go handle that? No. What it is is that Mom has you on the couch until you fix this. Hmm?” I ask, looking down at my chipped manicure.

“Huh?” The hurt is gone, and now, his face is confused at my cool tone.

“Let’s put the bullshit of yesterday behind us. That doesn’t matter right now. We have been fighting for months about this. I haven’t called you in about that long. Any communication had been through Mom, or it turned into a screaming match with witnesses. Me showing up and not talking to you isn’t something new. The real reason why you’re here has to be because Mom stopped playing double agent and took my side. Because her being mad at you is the only reason why I can see you here when communication hasn’t been a problem until now.” I finish and walk past him into the kitchen. I need to get away from him before I let the little girl in me begging for a hug from my daddy break free and let him win.

“I pour my heart out here, realizing I have broken your trust in me, and you think it’s because your mom kicked me out of our bed?” He seems baffled by my speaking to him like this. As if I haven’t called him a selfish asshole to his face more than once in these past few months.

“I mean, it makes sense, really,” I call from the kitchen. “You have been telling me your mind would never change over and over again. But here you are, hat in hand, telling me you now realize we’re broken. We’re only broken because you decided to be a dick-tator, and yes, I say that spelled as d-i-c-k rather than a loving and supportive father.” Changing my voice into that tone that all women do when they mock the men in their lives, “‘I am the head of this family and what I say goes.’ That man wouldn’t be here unless he weren’t getting the love and attention he is used to.” Before he can reply, my front door opens, and I can’t help the groan that escapes my mouth. Hasn’t he seen my dad’s bike in the drive? Why would he just burst in here?

“Mimic?” My Dad’s tone is cautious and questioning.

“Prez. Um, I’m just checking on Rox…ie. Seeing if she needs anything?” I facepalm at his statement as it sounds more like a question than a sentence.

“I’m here, she’s fine. Don’t you have things to deal with at the ranch?” Dad finds the edge in his voice, trying to play the Prez card to scare him off.

“Dad, Mimic is here because I asked him to be here. You are the one who showed up without an invitation. So please, see yourself out, and I will think about what you have said.” I walk back into the living room.

“Roxanne,” Dad’s voice still has an edge, but now it is directed at me.

“No, Dizz. This is my home, and I am asking you to leave. I will tell Mom you apologized, and I am taking it into consideration. You can sleep in your big boy bed tonight. Thank you for stopping by, but I have another guest to talk to.” I gesture toward the front door as if he didn’t know it was there or how to leave the house he had barged into.