13. Good News And Bad News #3
“I know, I know.” The pitch of my voice gets higher as I get increasingly more upset. “I should have known he would do something like this. I’m surprised he hasn’t locked my phone remotely, since he got us these fancy new phones and the contracts all belong to his agency.”
Keene’s mouth drops open. “Bex, I had no idea about that. But now that you told me, I can guess why your father didn’t turn your phone into a fucking brick. I bet he can track it.”
A cold shiver works its way down my spine.
Keene is right. I was wondering if Dad had guessed where I was, or if he was looking for me. And to be honest, when I lost all my followers, I thought he didn’t even care to bring me back into the fold. The truth is that he knew where I was all along.
“I can’t believe I was so stupid.” I whisper.
Keene surprises me again. “You’re not stupid.
” He says, covering my hand with his. “You had a lot on your plate. When you got here, you had nowhere to go, no job and you were running from a traumatic event. I know how it feels to have your entire world crumble into dust in front of your own eyes. You can’t be expected to think straight.
Take it from me, the fact that you made it here in one piece is proof that you’re smart and resilient. ”
He’s probably right, but I still feel stupid.
“Thank you?” It comes out like a question, and I would be lying if I said that I’m not bracing myself for a smartass remark to cancel his kindness.
Instead, Keene squeezes my hand. “Even if he knows where you are, you should get rid of that phone to be on the safe side.”
I think he’s right. “Ok. I’ll have to get myself a new one once I get my first paycheck.”
Keene surprises me again. “Don’t worry about that. I recently upgraded mine, and my old one still works perfectly. You can use that until you have the money for a new one. You’ll just have to get a new contract or a SIM card.”
I look at my phone as if it could cause me harm just with its mere existence. “It’s probably better to turn it off.”
Keene’s lips are set in a determined line. “I don’t know how tech savvy your father is, but he might still be able to track it, even though it would be harder.”
“He was savvy enough to have complete access to our phones whenever we were hooked to his house network. Or at least, he hired someone to set it all up.”
He thinks about it for a moment, running a hand through his short, dark brown hair. “We should destroy the phone and the SIM card inside it. It wouldn’t make the phone totally untraceable, but your father would have to go through a lot of trouble to keep tracking it.”
I think about it. “Fuck it. Let’s do it.” I rise from my chair but look at Keene when I realize that I’m totally out of my depth. “Hmm, how do you think we should destroy it?”
“One way would be to shoot a few rounds at it,” he muses, a lopsided smile curving his lips. “But even with our truce, I’m not sure I want to give you a gun and stand next to you. Just in case I manage to piss you off.”
Ten minutes ago, I would have taken offense at what he just said, but there’s no heat in his tone. I didn’t think it was possible, but Keene is joking.
I return his smile. “Believe it or not, I’ve never shot a gun.”
“Yeah, then it’s a definite no on that option.
Besides, we couldn’t exactly fire a gun on campus.
And even if we could, I believe in exercising as much safety as possible when handling firearms. The only way I would even want a complete noob near a gun would be at a range.
Maybe one day I could take you, if you want to learn? ”
I freeze with my phone in my hand, unsure about what’s happening here. Did Keene just ask me on a date?
My mouth pops open, but no sound comes out as I’m still trying to figure out what to say.
“I mean,” he chuckles, running his hand through his hair again. “It would be as a thank you for your help with that art class. You teach me how not to suck at painting, I teach you how to shoot.”
Right. Not a date, then.
A strange feeling expands in my chest, and I’m not sure if it’s disappointment or something else. There’s no way I could be disappointed that he didn’t mean to ask me out, right?
We’re not even friends. We’re just roommates and even that isn’t out of choice. Besides, I can’t even imagine Keene on a date. His normal mode is cutting sarcasm and death glares, not exactly romance material.
“Could be fun.” I say with a shrug. I don’t want him to know that I really thought he was asking me out. “But if we don’t shoot at my phone, how do we destroy it? Do we dip it in acid? Throw it from a tall building?”
“Fuck,” Keene laughs. “Remind me never to piss you off again. Hold your horses, kiddo. I might have just the thing.”
And I take offense again. “I’m not a kid.” I snap, hugging my cardigan to my chest. “You’re just two years older than me.”
I don’t know how he does it. Even when he’s trying to help, this guy has an uncanny way of getting under my skin.
If I expected one of his death glares, or a cutting remark, I’m surprised when his gaze softens.
He gets up from his chair, standing close enough that I can feel his body heat, but just shy of us touching in any way. “I didn’t mean it that way, Bex. I’m sorry. It’s just an expression.”
His ice-blue eyes leave my face to skim down to my chest for a second, then they come back to my face. “I’m sorry. Be right back. Like I was saying, I might have just what we need.”
He goes back into the house, leaving me dazed and confused. This man changes moods so fast, it gives me whiplash. I guess it’s progress compared to the way he treated me before we agreed on a truce.
“Here we go.” Keene smiles, showing me a ridiculously huge sledgehammer.
I swear to God, if he was blond like Jamie and Connor, that hammer is big enough to make him look like Thor.
“Where did you get that?” my mouth is gaping open.
“I just got it for my next puck stunt video. It’s gonna be fun. I’ll move the puck by hitting strategic spots on the course, rather than using a stick. My fans love it when I mix it up and go a little weird.”
I’m dying to crack a joke about him being weird, but I change my mind. Even though we were arguing earlier on, this is the nicest Keene has ever been to me, so I don’t want to do anything to fuck it up. It just makes being roommates a lot easier if we can be civil to each other.
“So,” I say, pointing at the sledgehammer. “Do we hit my phone with that?”
Again, rather than rolling his eyes at my rhetorical question, Keene nods.
“That’s the general idea. But we can’t do it on the deck or we’ll cause damage. Wait another sec.”
Keene runs into the house again and comes back out with a cardboard box in his hands.
He sets the box down at the end of the deck and pulls out a large metal box. It’s a small safe, by the looks of it.
“I got this when I was deployed to keep my passport and a copy of my orders in it. Our base was relatively safe, but there had been a few rocket attacks from the insurgents, and I thought that it was better to be safe than sorry. This thing is fireproof and bulletproof. It’s also anti-smash.
We can hit it with that sledgehammer without making a dent in it.
If we set it down on the dirt right off the deck, we shouldn’t damage anything but your phone. ”
“Sounds good to me.”
I place my phone on top of the safe after Keene sets it down on the ground.
“Can I have the hammer?” I ask.
A strange glint passes in Keene’s eyes, and for a second, I think he’s going to say no.
“Here you go.”
I knew why he was looking at me the second he let go of the sledgehammer.
“Shit.” That thing’s so heavy that I almost dropped it on my toes.
I turn to look at him, expecting to see a taunting smile on his face.
“Sorry.” There’s no trace of derision in his tone. “I should have told you it was gonna be heavy, but I didn’t want to assume. Do you want me to smash your phone for you?”
There’s no way I can lift that sledgehammer high enough or hit anything with enough power to cause damage beyond what the weight of the hammer itself could do.
“I guess.” I’m a little disappointed that I can’t hit it myself. After everything that’s happened, it would give me a sense of closure. Like I was really breaking that last connection with my past life.
“Did you want to do it yourself?” Again, Keene’s tone is kind, almost warm.
“Yeah, but…”
He retrieves the phone from the top of the safe. “It’s probably better if we take the SIM card out and cut it; possibly set it on fire, too. Just in case crushing it doesn’t totally kill it.”
After placing the SIM card in his pocket, he returns the phone to the top of the metal safe.
“Come here, stand in front of me.” He says.
My knee-jerk reaction would be to argue about the way he’s ordering me around; but I’m intrigued about what he might be planning, so I do as I’m told.
Keene sets the sledgehammer on the ground in front of me.
“Grip it with both hands, but don’t try to lift it. Just like that. Wait before you move.”
I understand what he wants to do when he surrounds me with his arms, covering my hands with his, so that we’re both gripping the sledgehammer.
His clean, spicy scent engulfs me as Keene leans forward, so that the side of my face is nestled in the crook of his neck.
My pulse quickens, and a wave of heat washes over me.
The small hairs on my arms stand at attention, my nipples tighten against the fabric of my bra, and liquid heat settles between my legs.
I can feel my heartbeat pulsing right there, and I know I’m going to have to change my panties when we’re done with this task.
I’m literally vibrating, but it isn’t just the violent physical reaction to Keene’s proximity; I’m also mad at myself for letting him affect me this much.
I don’t want to be one of those women who forget that a guy has been a total dick to her just because he’s hot as fuck.
Even though lately, at least since our truce, there have been glimpses of kindness, I can’t forget that we’re talking about Keene and he could turn on me faster than you can say hammer.
I know he’s being nice right now, and he called me beautiful, but it’s impossible to tell when he’ll return to his default asshole mode.
He says something, but I miss it, too busy trying to steady myself and not melt into a puddle of needy goo in his strong arms.
“Come again?” I hope he isn’t looking at my face, because I’m burning up. I’m sure I’m redder than a tomato right about now.
Keene doesn’t scold me for not paying attention. “I said ‘at my three, we lift the hammer to our foreheads and then hit.’ Let’s try a couple of hits and then we’ll assess how this is working out, yeah?”
“Sure.”
We lift the sledgehammer. In all fairness, he’s doing most of the heavy lifting, but still I’m in on the action.
“One, two, three!”
Smash!
Despite Keene providing most of the force required for this task, my breathing grows labored; my chest is heaving after the first hit.
I glance at the phone, and the glass has turned into dust. The phone itself is still holding its shape for the most part, however.
“Ready to go again?” Keene asks, tightening his grip on my hands and leaning even closer.
My lower back is almost flush with his front and… is he hard?
Oh. My. God.
He either has a tall can of beer in his pocket, or Keene has a boner that’s currently rubbing against my crack.
I’m thankful that he’s providing support, because my knees have just turned into Jell-O.
“One,” he counts, beginning to lift the hammer. “Two and three!”
Smash!
The second hit causes way more damage, and the phone is starting to resemble a pancake.
We hit a third time, and I think it’s safe to say that Dad will have one hell of a time tracking that.
Once the sledgehammer is safely back on the ground, Keene takes a step back from me.
A shudder works its way down my spine, and I refuse to consider that it could be caused by more than the loss of his body heat.
I turn to look at my roommate, and he’s breathing as hard as I am.
Also, that hard thing against my ass? Definitely not a tall boy.
“He should be at least six feet tall, have a six inch dick, and have six figures in his bank account. If he lacks any of these three requirements, you move on.”
Luke’s rule for the perfect boyfriend echoes in my ears.
Keene exceeds six feet in height. He’s a successful social media personality, so I know for a fact he must be worth at least six figures.
Judging by that hard rod in his pants? I would say that six inches would be a gross underestimation.
The thing is, I don’t really care about how much money he has.
Luke says that Keene is a great guy once you get past his rough outer shell.
Jamie and Connor agree with my brother. To the point that if I wanted to date him, they wouldn’t be against it.
The thing is that it doesn’t matter if Keene is hot as fuck.
He’s an asshole, and we hate each other, right?
The glimpses of kindness I’ve been seeing recently are just a consequence of our truce.
If Luke hadn’t asked us to stop bickering twenty-four seven, we’d still be at each other’s throats.
He was going to kick me to the curb. I have to remember that whenever he’s nice to me. He’s just doing it because his team captain asked. And because he needs my help with his art class.
“You ok, Bex?” he checks on me.
Those almost translucent blue eyes rove over me, and you know what? Two can play this game.
“I’m ok. Are you ok?” I shoot back, giving him the same once over he’s just given me.
Don’t stare at his cock. Don’t stare at his cock.
Shit. My eyes are glued to his crotch, and there’s no way he didn’t notice.
My hunch is confirmed when Keene clears his throat. “Bex.”
His voice is gravelly, and when I force my eyes up to meet his gaze, I don’t know how to interpret the pained look on his face.
His big, strong hands are balled into fists as if he were fighting the urge to touch me.
I don’t want him to touch me. We hate each other, and our truce means absolutely nothing.
If only I could convince myself that it’s the truth. “What?”
My voice sounds shaky even to my own ears, and my fight-or-flight instinct is on high alert.
I want to turn on my heels and get away from this confusing man and his unstable moods more than anything; but at the same time, I don’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing that he’s managed to get under my skin.
The air between us is charged, cracking with electricity, and if Keene touched me now, I have no idea what I would do.
You should find out if he’s the guy behind mask number six.
Fuck me. No, I just refuse to believe that it’s even possible that Keene was my secret kiss.
“Bexie-Boo, here you are. Hey bro.”
Saved by the bell.
“Hey sweetie.” I literally launch myself into my brother’s arms.
He hugs me back. “Happy to see me?”
“Always.” I beam.
“I have some news. You need to sit down.”