Chapter 17
THE LOOK
MAGGIE
What the fuck was he doing here?!
My heart sputtered to a stop at the sight of Zeke in front of me, fists up and brows furrowed.
He looked ready to attack. But he looked like a dream doing it.
His hair was disheveled in a way that suggested sex, and the tattered sleeveless shirt he wore revealed his rippling biceps.
I wanted to use them to keep me steady as I rode his cock.
Except…oh my god I don’t have makeup on or my hair done!
I froze worse than a deer in headlights as I realized I left the bathroom after my hasty shower in nothing but a towel.
My wet hair hung in stringy waves around my face and my face was as bare as the day I was born.
At least Marla’s towels were the good kind, thick and long to ensure all of the important parts were covered.
Although not very well, I realized as I hastily pulled the towel up higher so that I didn’t accidentally reveal a nipple.
Not that I didn’t want Zeke to see a nipple.
I wanted him to be so familiar with them that he could draw them with his eyes closed, but now that he was the first man to ever see me without my makeup and hair done, any small shot I had that Zeke would be interested disintegrated before my eyes.
I couldn’t look away, too caught up in the horror of the moment.
Zeke immediately relaxed and flashed me a smile that made my knees shake.
He was so damn good-looking. How had nobody noticed it before?
And how was he not running away from me in terror right now?
That smile couldn’t possibly be for me, could it?
My mouth opened and closed several times in rapid succession like a goldfish.
I didn’t know what to do. My feet didn’t want to listen to the flight reflex that kicked in, possibly because Zeke’s eyes held mine hostage.
He wasn’t looking at me as if he were disgusted.
If anything, Zeke looked downright captivated.
Flames erupted low in my belly as a hungry gleam crossed his face. It was a look that made me feel beautiful, a look that promised more.
Zeke took a step closer so that there was barely any room between us.
I had to crane my head back to see him, glancing up through my lashes as my body trembled—from need or from fear, I couldn’t be certain.
His breath hitched as I looked up, and his hands gripped both of my elbows tightly as though he might prevent me from disappearing.
“I didn’t mean to scare you,” he whispered.
I swallowed thickly, my tongue suddenly too heavy for my mouth. “You don’t scare me, Zeke Hayes,” I murmured back.
His gaze dropped to my lips, and I nervously bit down on my bottom one, both awestruck and terrified that he might actually kiss me.
A kiss from a man like Zeke Hayes could change your religion, but for him to kiss me when I was as raw and vulnerable as I was right now would change my entire genetic makeup.
“When you bite on your lip like that it distracts me,” Zeke said. His voice was low and gravelly, and I longed for him to whisper dirty words in my ear.
“Distracts you from what?” My eyebrow rose in challenge, intentionally biting down on the lip again so that I could push him further. What could I say? I welcomed the change of our kiss.
Just as he angled his head down to meet mine, Marla’s shrill cry came from downstairs. “Y’all have work to do down here! Hurry it up!”
Zeke fell back like he had been shocked. Gone was the spellbound man who I wanted to climb like a tree. Instead, Zeke nervously averted his eyes and held his hands up as if he had surrendered. He backed away slowly towards the door, keeping his face downcast.
“I’m so sorry, Maggie! I’ll—I’ll just m-meet you down there.” He bolted down the stairs like his feet were on fire.
The horror of it all came crashing down in a tidal wave of shame.
How could I even let Zeke kiss me again after what I did last night?
Despite scrubbing my body raw, I could still feel Spencer’s putrid breath on my skin.
He lingered around me like a ghost, a reminder of the kind of man I deserved.
I was my mother’s daughter, after all. Wasn’t sleeping with one guy while having feelings for another kind of her thing?
I slipped inside my bedroom, scrambling into spandex shorts and a sports bra.
There wouldn’t be any air conditioning downstairs, so it was bound to be hotter than hell.
A small part of me that I chose to steadfastly ignore couldn’t help but wonder if Zeke would appreciate the view of me in tight clothes.
I threw on a loose tank top to appease Marla’s sense of decency before shoving on some Crocs and joining them downstairs.
Neither of them noticed as I came in behind them where Marla and Zeke discussed the best place to put display cases and how much counter space she might need.
I hastily braided my hair over one shoulder, trying—and failing—to keep my eyes from drinking in Zeke’s round backside.
Normally people only wanted women to have lush, thick asses, but I begged to differ.
Zeke’s looked strong and curvy, and drool pooled in my mouth as I imagined sinking my teeth into it.
“So where do you want me?” I finally interjected.
Marla and Zeke both spun to meet me. Marla’s jaw dropped while Zeke gave me a smile that quite literally stole my ability to breathe. I found myself swaying from lack of oxygen, enough so that he reached a steadying hand for my elbow again.
“Maggie Eaton!” Marla said in alarm. “You don’t—”
“Have to do anything you don’t want to do today,” Zeke finished for her firmly. He shot Marla a look laced with warning. “Let me handle all the hard stuff.”
To my surprise, Marla obeyed, her lips pursing into a thin line before she nodded. “I’m gonna run out to the hardware store and get the stuff we mentioned. Y’all just keep cleaning. Harry is gonna stop by to look at that HVAC, Ezekiel. I’ll be back.”
Her behavior gave me goosebumps, but I couldn’t figure out why.
Was there something wrong with my outfit?
I brushed my teeth and hadn’t eaten anything, so I know there wasn’t something stuck in them.
I even spritzed on some body spray. Maybe smelling fruity would catch Zeke’s attention again so we could finish what we started upstairs.
Zeke turned to me with a smile. “Why don’t you just sit and tell me more about yourself while I clean?”
I rolled my eyes. “I didn’t wake up early just to sit on my ass. Let me do something!”
Laughing, Zeke handed me a mop and gestured to the suds-filled bucket. “Be my guest.”
Time passed quickly as I cleaned the floors and the baseboards while Zeke used a different kind of mop to clean the walls.
They were really grimy, making us pour out the mop bucket to refill it several times.
Parts of the drywall had cracks, but Zeke brought tools with him to fix some things.
He made marks with pink chalk on places that needed filled in so that they didn’t miss them when Marla returned with the spackle and paint.
According to Zeke, the plan was to prime all the walls today and paint them a base color while Marla decided on what kind of layout she wanted.
Afterwards, Zeke and I used the chalk to mark on the floor where we thought it made the most sense for things to go.
He said she would need to add a wall to divide the shop front from the kitchen, and we had fun designing the best way to utilize the space.
Chalk handprints kept “accidentally” appearing on both of us since we couldn’t seem to keep our hands off one another.
It was like the best kind of junior high flirting ever.
A loud knock came from the front when Harry Stevens, the local handyman and jack of all trades, arrived.
He worked out in Savannah mostly, but lived here in River’s Run, and always had a soft spot for Marla.
I remembered many times at The Comfy Cushion when even Mr. Hendricks couldn’t get Harry to come out, but one word from Marla had Harry arriving within the hour.
Even now, he appeared to have a freshly ironed shirt that looked a little out of place for a repairman.
“This may take a while,” Harry advised us after Zeke explained Marla hadn’t returned yet. “Why don’t y’all grab a bite while I get to work. Have to get the job done right!”
I coughed to cover my snicker. Of course Harry had to get Marla’s job done right.
Zeke could sense the laughter threatening to burst out of me and grabbed my hand to yank me behind him as he thanked Harry for being so thorough.
He pulled me out onto the street just as the laugh bubbled over, flashing another swoon-worthy smile at me when the door closed behind us.
I only realized belatedly that my hand was still clasped in his. They fit perfectly together.
As if sensing that, too, Zeke glanced down at our joined hands before bringing his free one up to brush a stray lock of hair from my face.
The passionate gleam from Marla’s apartment was back on his face.
Rather than letting the hand drop, he continued to softly rub my earlobe, sending shivers down my spine.
“Well, isn’t this a picture!”
Oh my god, not again…
I turned in dismay to face Diana, who wore a sundress at least two sizes too small that pushed her breasts up near her chin. A new man I didn’t recognize stood just behind her with oily hair slicked back and a leer that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.
Diana gasped. “Margaret Elizabeth Eaton, don’t you own a mirror?! Haven’t I taught you better than to run around town without your face on?”
This had to be what people called an out of body experience. I was paralyzed in place, equal parts fear, guilt, and shame. How had I gone all morning without makeup on? And worse, how had I let Zeke continue to see me without makeup?
A cross between a whimper and a scream left my throat.
I tore my hand from Zeke’s and raced up to my bedroom, turning and locking the door behind me.
The ugly truth glared back at me from the mirror: my real face had been borne to the world.
This time I didn’t even need a toothbrush to vomit. It came up all on its own.
I didn’t make it to the bathroom in time.
Puke coated my front, making my shirt cling to my stomach.
I collapsed in a heap in front of the toilet.
Shaking so hard my teeth chattered, I huddled down in the fetal position.
Tears coated my face and I could no longer breathe.
More vomit rose up in my throat again, but panic prevented it from coming out.
The dizzying sense of my downward spiral only made me cry harder.
“Trouble, baby, what’s wrong?” Zeke came into the bathroom, crouching down beside me.
Pushing him away was a lesson in futility. He pulled me into his arms, vomit and all, squeezing me to his chest while sobs wracked my body.
“I’ve got you, Maggie. Let it all out,” he murmured into my hair, which only served to make me cry harder.
Hideous.
Disgusting.
Ugly.
Worthless.
My mother’s words scratched at the forefront of my mind like talons on a chalkboard. The repulsed look that crossed her face down there without makeup on…The way her new boyfriend recoiled from me…all of her words were true.
I am ugly.
Sobs wracked through my body, hard enough that my kneecaps kept cracking together.
Zeke held me through it all. He murmured words of comfort into my hair as I cried into his shirt, my hand twisting the front in knots.
It was a true testament as to how far gone I was in my misery that it was the first time my hands could have traced the hard lines of Zeke’s stomach and I didn’t even care.
A lot of time passed before the tears dried up. Shuddering, gasping breaths echoed throughout the bathroom as I tried to dry heave while simultaneously put enough air in my lungs.
“Maggie,” Zeke said, his voice low and concerned, “please tell me what’s going on. I can’t fix it if you don’t tell me. I don’t understand.”
Cold air and a sense of dread washed over me as I pushed away from him.
The more the distance grew between us, the icier it became.
I sank onto the edge of the bathtub, keeping my eyes pinned to the floor so that I didn’t have to look at him.
Zeke had already seen more of my shame than I could stomach.
“You don’t need to understand, Zeke. Hell, you never could, looking the way you do.” A watery chuckle, composed more of sarcasm than amusement, leaked out as I aimlessly gestured towards him. “Who could have low self esteem when they look like you?”
I closed my eyes and winced as I felt him kneel down in front of me and gently take my hands in his. If I looked at him and saw pity, I would break beyond repair.
“Trouble, you’re the only friend I’ve ever had. I’ve spoken more to you in the past forty-eight hours than I have to everyone else I’ve ever met, combined. You’re gorgeous in my eyes. Not sure how that relates to your self-esteem, but it doesn’t make it any less true.”
Hardly daring to breathe, I slowly opened my eyes to find Zeke staring at me.
Concern etched across his face, and I wanted to smooth away the wrinkles marring his brow.
The vulnerability it took to admit such a heartbreaking truth made me want to be equally frank with Zeke.
“Ever since I turned twelve, I’ve never gone a single day without makeup.
Nobody has ever seen me bare faced other than my mom, Celeste, and Marla—once.
Having Diana call me out like that in front of you made me panic. ”
Rather than laugh or scoff, as I anticipated him to do, Zeke merely nodded. “Is it really that important to you that you wear makeup in front of everyone?”
I nodded, too. “I feel ugly without it. Like everyone is judging me.”
Zeke sighed as he reflected on my answer. The seconds passed like the agonizing wait for the final buzzer of a basketball game. “Then go ahead and take some time to put on whatever makes you feel comfortable. I’ll go tell Marla you aren’t feeling well and need some time up here.”
He stood up and crossed to the door, pausing to look back at me. Blue eyes wary with candor found mine as he added, “I’m honored that I got to be one of the people who saw you in your natural form. I still think you’re gorgeous either way.”