Chapter Sixteen
Am I Dickmatized
Crystal
He acted like I was really something to lose. The way he pounced to keep me in that chair was a memory I’d cherish and no doubt hold over him if things worked out.
He was going through his messages when I stepped out of the bathroom, my freshly washed hair neatly wrapped in a towel.
“A lot of people keep tabs on you, huh?” I tried to sound casual about it, but it was weird. The man had a total of thirty missed texts, and we hadn’t even been gone for twenty-four hours.
I had to look, not because I didn’t respect people’s privacy, more because I couldn’t bear to be the source of someone else’s pain. I’d had enough roommates to know that many calls, texts, and voicemails usually spelled out one thing...
A wife.
Or at the very least something serious.
It shocked me to see they weren’t all from one person.
Aunt Daisy sent ten yesterday and four this morning. Mr. Victor sent four last night, and two this morning. Bighead sent three. Someone listed as Brother sent two and Mark sent one. The only name that really stood out as possibly suspicious was Easy, who sent the rest.
Why I had that list memorized was anyone’s wonder.
Was that what it meant to be dickmatized?
Did it turn you into Inspector Gadget just to make sure the math was mathing right?
“Club life. Brotherly love.”
I gave a slow nod and met his gaze. “Here I thought you were a spoiled only child.”
He flubbed his lips and cocked his head “Listen, I damn near got rug burn on my knees trying to make sure you didn’t fly the coup over a snot-nosed little brother.”
I snorted and rolled my eyes, “He didn’t sound so little and snot nosed. You said he was military. I don’t think they do snot nosed.”
“Meet my brother before you say that with such conviction,” he deadpanned.
I put my fingers over my mouth before I could bleat with laughter. “Are you always this charming?”
“With everyone but you, baby.” He winked.
“Hmm. And how many brothers did you have to suffer before they were all rewarded with such warmth and–?”
“I only had to suffer that one, thank fuck. He’s batshit, and being over there doesn’t help him.”
I mouthed a gentle, oh, and let the subject drop. I had a good respect for the men I’d gone to school with who served. I read about them now and then when I looked up the Swanwick Chronicle online.
It seemed every few months someone came home missing a limb, or hearing from those damn roadside bombs.
I nibbled my lower lip and studied him.
“What?” He smiled, stepping toward me in that white shirt that was still stained from his mouthing.
I plucked at the stain, drawing the material out for his inspection. I stifled a pleased grunt, stretched to my tiptoes and stole a kiss.
“Come on, let me get you home.” He smiled, though he held my hip captive.
I hissed at the idea.
“Can you drop me off at the club?”
I couldn’t help the laugh that clipped from me with how fast his expression fell.
“I want my roommates to believe I got some night gigs. If they see me coming home with a man, they’re gonna think I’m prostituting. That’s against the house agreement.”
“You have a no whoring agreement?”
“We do. She does. Only one of us has a name on the list, so she makes the rules, technically.”
“Gotcha.” He nodded and noisily sucked his teeth like he was contemplating a proposal. “Alright, listen. I’ll drop you off at the club, and I’ll help you hold the illusion so that you don’t have to look for work or anything. If you agree that these pretend nightshifts are spent with me.”
“Date nights? I’m gonna expect flowers next time.”
“What kind?”
The fact that he asked rather than just bullshitting me with an answer left me blinking up at him with a stupid smile.
He was right, I needed to get home before I got too invested in what could still prove to be a one-night stand.
“I like lilies and roses, and you can meet me at the waffle spot with them in two days.”
His grip lightened and he nodded, before sealing the deal with a deep, lingering kiss that I wanted to get lost in, as much as I knew better than to allow myself to.