Chapter 12
EVER
I wake to my alarm and Bobby staring at me from his phone.
“Were you watching me sleep?” I cover my yawn with my hand. I must look like a mess.
“Just got up.” He chugs down bottled water, his gaze never leaving mine.
Watching his tan, inked throat move with each swallow, conscious of how sexy he is with his tousled dark hair and shadow of scruff on his face, I wipe drool from the side of my mouth, rub the sleep from my eyes, and finger-comb the tangles in my hair.
Bobby sets down the bottled water. “You’re gorgeous, beautiful.”
I smile. He’s generous with his compliments.
“Sleep okay?”
“I did.” I’ve never felt so rested on less than four hours of sleep.
I sit up and bring the phone with me as I get ready for work, starting with brushing my teeth and washing my face after I’ve used the toilet, out of sight from Bobby and with my phone muted. I give him the same courtesy before we get on camera again.
“Should I let you go so you can get ready?” He stands and pushes the chair out of the way.
Bobby is on the move, bringing his phone and me with him. I’m still stuck on seeing the chair. “You slept at the desk? I thought there’d be a couch, a chaise, or something for you to crash on.”
“A chair beats the ground any day.”
“Is this from experience?”
“Something like that.”
“I still feel bad,” I admit.
“What for?”
“For not insisting you call a rideshare. A chair isn’t a substitute for a bed.”
“It wasn’t a hardship. Not when I had the chance to take in your angelic face.”
I scrunch my face. “I’m not an angel.” Only my father calls me that, and his version is different from everyone else’s.
“Didn’t say you are. I said angelic face. Big difference.”
“How?”
“A woman can come off as an angel but be a monster underneath.”
“Speaking from experience?”
“Something like that.”
“Will that be your answer every time I ask?”
“I don’t live in the past.”
I take a play from his playbook and answer, “Duly noted.”
He ducks his head, but not before I catch a glimpse of his closed-mouth grin.
“What is a monster to you?” I’m curious.
“A liar, cheater, and manipulator.” A dark shadow crosses his face, then disappears when I blink. “You’re none of that.”
“You have a lot of faith in someone you barely know.” I set the phone on my white makeup table in the guest bathroom and apply a thin layer of mascara. Gage pays a larger portion of rent, so he gets the master bedroom and bath.
“Are you saying my read on you is wrong?” His stare on the other side of the phone screen is intense, like he’s searching my face for signs that he might’ve missed previously.
I dab on lip gloss and press my lips together. “I’m saying my idea of a monster isn’t the same as yours. A monster to me is someone who causes harm to others through their actions.”
“Lying, cheating, and manipulation isn’t ‘causing harm’?” He’s adorable using air quotes.
“I hurt people,” I admit without going into detail. “I’m a monster.”
I hurt Braxton when I didn’t consider our safety. I hurt my brother and the crew when I overdosed on my mother’s drugs, and my father rained hell on them for not keeping a close eye on me. I hurt my mother when I kept her habit a secret from my father and Ty until it was too late.
Bobby is quiet for a few seconds before he asks a question Ty and Gage haven’t asked before. They never ask. All they do is level accusations at me.
“Did you learn from your mistakes?”
I swallow past the tightness in my throat, my voice hoarse. “I did.”
Bobby nods, this slow up and down of his head, like he knew he was right about me. Were he here, I’d cup his face in my palms and thank him for having faith in me.
“The monster in my life didn’t learn. This monster was a serial liar, cheater, and manipulator.”
“I’m sorry, Bobby.” Why do I have a feeling he’s talking about an ex-girlfriend? “Did you break it off with this person?”
“I did. She kept making contact.”
“That’s the reason you have the no-contact rule.”
Jaw clenched, sea-glass eyes darkening like a storm raging over the horizon, he answers with a slight dip of his chin.
“I see. Thank you for sharing.”
“Thank you for listening. Know that I won’t bring up my ex again, Ever.”
I was right.
I’m not jealous of his ex like I was when the women at the nightclub stared at Bobby. His ex was a monster, and I’m glad she’s not in his life anymore. It must’ve been difficult finding out the hard way that someone you loved and trusted wasn’t who you believed them to be.
“You’re mine, sweetness, and that means there wasn’t a woman before you. In my mind, you are the one and only woman in my life. Do you understand?”
I nod, left speechless by the intensity in his voice and the dark mask of possession on his face. I’ve seen that same expression before, in an old photo of my parents from before Ty was born. My father had looked at my mother just like that—with dominance and possession.
“At the club, you said you don’t believe in fairy tales, only fantasies. If you did, can I be the hero?” His mood changing from dark, dominant, and possessive one minute to teasing the next twists my insides with fear, something I haven’t felt since I took my mom’s drugs.
Anticipation courses through my veins, leaving me with the high of soaring through the clouds and propelling past Earth’s atmosphere.
I’m weightless. Nothing is keeping me grounded.
Not my guilt over my mother’s death or my regret for steering Braxton’s attention from the road to me with my happiness over the pitter-pattering of raindrops on the windshield.
And most of all, my grief over the death of my first love.
I let go of the weight of guilt, regret, and grief and tease back the man who has faith that I’ve learned from my mistake.
“Don’t you know?” I ask with a smile.
“Know what, baby?” he asks in a low, throaty voice that strokes the place between my thighs.
“Some of us girls would rather be saved by the villain than the hero.” My father was never my mother’s hero.
He was always the villain, and she loved him more for it until he took things too far and murdered a man for staring too heatedly at my mom. That’s what the scary man with the scar transecting his face said when I caught him dropping off a plushie at our back door.
Bobby’s eyes widen before they sparkle like jewels in the light. “Of course you would, beautiful. Pray tell, explain. This conversation is going down an interesting path, and I am fully invested.”
I smile. It’s nice to have a conversation with a guy whose eyes light up rather than glaze over with boredom. “A hero looks out for everyone’s safety when dealing with high stakes. The villain doesn’t care. The only focus, what he’ll burn the world for, is the high stakes.”
“So, if you, Ever, were the high stakes, you’d rather have the villain than the hero coming to your rescue? Is that what I’m hearing, beautiful?”
I don’t hesitate. “Yes.”
“Can I be the villain of your fairy tales, my Ever After? Or would you prefer I be the bad boy in your fantasy?”
Eyes closed. A solid body anchored to mine.
Being led out of a noisy club and into quieter surroundings with a cool breeze on my face and bare shoulders, arms, and midriff.
I’m lifted into the stranger’s arms. He purposefully trips, and I wrap myself around him.
Leather seats. A tender kiss on the top of my head.
Straddling thick thighs while sitting in a pickup truck.
Bobby demanding that I look at him. “Open your eyes, Ever. I want you to see who you promised one day and one night to.”
Bobby is intently watching my face. He’s right. I’m an open book, and I see what he’s seeing as I relive my fantasy. Mouth parted. Eyes darkened with longing. My pulse jumps under my skin, below my jawline. Flushed cheeks.
“Both,” I rasp. “I choose both.”
Satisfaction flashes across his face before a mask of concern slips into place. “Will I make you late for work by keeping you on the line?”
“I have time, but if you have somewhere to be, we should end the call.” I don’t want to. Talking with him makes me feel alive again. “I’d hate to disrupt whatever you have planned for the day.”
Waiting for his answer, I brush my hair and pull it into a ponytail. It’s nice to get ready for work and have someone to talk to before the start of my day.
“Just more work. I’m good with talking, Ever. This is a nice change for me.”
“Same.” I carry the phone with me back to my bedroom. “I’m changing into my work clothes in case all you see are plushies.” I place my phone on its side. Masculine laughter fills my bedroom, decorated in shades of pink and purple.
I pick up my phone and glance at the screen. There’s a shit-eating grin on Bobby’s face.
“You weren’t kidding when you said plushies bring you happiness. Seeing your collection brings me happiness, sweetness,” he confesses.
My heart melts. Not thinking, my heart singing, I blow Bobby a kiss. I don’t wait for his reaction. I turn the phone away from me and quickly dress. I spritz perfume on my pulse points—on my neck and wrists—then flip the phone over and lean into the screen. My ponytail falls over my shoulder.
Bobby’s gaze hangs on my eyes and my mouth before dropping to my buttoned-up shirt. “You look good in blue, Ever. The color brings out a mesmerizing rust in your pretty eyes.”
I blush.
I’ll never look at or think about rust the same way again. And my boring eyes? Not so boring after all.
“What’s this more work you’re doing on a Saturday? Unless you don’t want to say,” I backtrack. “I have no right to ask. We just met yesterday.”
“Prepping for business meetings. I fly out tomorrow morning. Bay Area.”
“Oh. Thank you.” I close-mouth smile. He’s looping me in on his life even though he could’ve said it’s none of my business.