Chapter 17
Malcolm
June finally leaves her bedroom trailed by fruity and flowery scents. She started getting ready well before I showered, yet I had to wait for over half an hour for her to be done.
It’s a mystery what took her so long though the end result is worth it. She’s gorgeous as always. Especially so in a short, blue summer dress with a white floral print and thin straps, her dark curls down her back.
She throws me a smile on her way to the shoe rack. When she bends over to grab a pair of white sandals, the shape of her perfect ass and the view of her upper thighs seize my attention.
It would take me two seconds to be over there. I would hold her bent over like that, shove her dress up, pull her panties to the side, and slide deep into her. My cock begins to harden at the thought.
Oh fuck.
Abort! Abort!
Now is not the time to get a boner.
I jerk my gaze and stand. I stare so hard at the TV’s blank screen while she puts on her shoes, it’s a wonder I’m not burning holes into the plastic.
A buddy of mine told me about his struggle to quit smoking once. It took him a while to figure out what worked, but the least effective method for him was doing it cold turkey.
Each time he tried it, he backslid faster and smoked way more than he did before quitting.
If you suddenly give up something that made you feel good, your body will rebel against that. It’ll punish you for it.
Don’t I know it. I made the same mistake as Hayes. My best friend’s daughter is an addiction I tried to quit cold turkey four days ago, and I’ve been on the brink of backsliding ever since.
Being around her feels like I died and went to hell, and the torture the devil assigned me is: you can look but you can’t touch ever again.
Those two last words is what makes it so fucking difficult. I know how amazing it is to touch her, taste her, and have her writhing and moaning under me. My body is mutinous that I’m denying myself the experience.
Shoes on, June straightens and hooks her skinny purse strap onto her shoulder.
“Alright,” she says. “Let’s get this show on the road.”
We leave the apartment and I glance at the camera affixed to the door with satisfaction. I had a face-to-face chat with Wolsey a few days ago after our conversation over the phone didn’t go so well.
It didn’t take me long to locate his address. What’s interesting is how quickly he changed his mind about the camera and my move-in when I showed up at his door unannounced.
Maybe it was something in my tone, or the way I moved closer to him and said it would be a real shame if somebody did to him what the intruder did to June—break into his place in the middle of the night while he thought he was safe and sound in his bed. Who knows what could happen to him next?
We climb into my truck and set off for Paul and Nicole’s. June connects her phone to my truck’s bluetooth, and I’m not surprised that the first song is by Selena Gomez.
I smile. “Still your favourite, huh?”
“Of course. She’s the GOAT.”
“Why do you like her songs?”
“I like hearing her sing more than I like her songs, and I do like them. But when she sings, it makes me think about how resilient she is, and that encourages me to be strong too. She’s gone through so much since she was a kid, but she still has a positive energy.”
I roll to a stop at a red light.
“Yeah, that’s more difficult than most people realize.”
“She was a good role model for me as a kid, especially after the fire,” she says, her voice quiet. “She still is, now that I’m an adult. A biracial woman, just like me, who’s strong, talented, positive, and successful.” She smiles. “Anyway, what about you? Who’s your favourite singer?”
“Don’t know if I have a favourite. I’ll enjoy whatever that has a good tune. I’ve listened to a lot of Nirvana and Muse, though.”
“Never heard of either of them.”
“Not even Nirvana?” I glance at her in shock. “You’ve never heard Smells Like Teen Spirit?” I hum the chorus to the band’s most popular song. Her face lights up in recognition after a moment.
“Oh! I remember that song! It would be blasting from your car sometimes when you came over to visit.”
I chuckle. “That answers your question then. I have a favourite after all.”
Our easy conversation on lightweight topics continues throughout the drive, occasionally fading away into friendly silence.
It seems June has forgiven me, though she’s not as relaxed around me as before. She does her best to keep physical distance, like she’s worried the slightest touch will make me jump her. To be honest, it often feels like I’m fighting against doing just that.
She steals glances at me when she thinks I’m not aware. Whenever I try to meet her gaze, she quickly averts it and bites her lips.
I wish I knew what she’s thinking when she does that. I also wonder if she thinks about that night between us like I do, or if she’s scrubbed it from her mind to get over what I did to her.
I can’t get rid of the memories and I don’t want to. Every night, I allow them to torture me because a memory is all I’ll ever have now. For one incredible moment, I had her moaning for me and gasping my name.
What I enjoy remembering the most is the anticipation on her face after I made her come. Despite her protests, June wanted me to fuck her, and I was about to give her what she wanted. Self-restraint kicked in at the last second.
Everything we’d done so far was pretty wrong, but they didn’t have serious consequences. If I’d crossed the line and fucked her, I’d quickly cross the other one and come inside her too. A primal, savage need burns in my gut to claim June completely by getting her pregnant.
I finally pull into Paul and Nicole’s driveway in the same spot I used to park when I lived here. It’s a relief to get out of the vehicle and stretch my legs after the long drive.
June and I head for the porch stairs. The front door opens and Nicole steps out. She’s beautiful in a loose, calf-length summer dress of bold red, gold, and green, her braids tied back in a low ponytail with a matching hair tie.
“They’re the colours of Ghana,” she once explained, a piece of history passed down by her Ghanaian parents. “Red is the colour of the blood of the people, gold is the wealth, and green is the natural beauty of the country.”
Nicole’s parents immigrated to Canada in the seventies so that her father could further his education in medicine.
Before Mr. Akoto passed away, he was a stern, traditional man with a hidden sense of humour that came out once he had a little alcohol inside him.
Though, he definitely wasn’t amused when his daughter, a straight-A student destined to be a doctor like him, got knocked up just weeks after she graduated high school.
Paul has always been a charmer. He managed to woo a smart girl into questionable choices in the back of his car, and he managed to win over Nicole’s dad.
It helped that Paul is the son of immigrants too, his parents leaving behind their home in Ireland for a new life in Canada like the Akotos.
Nicole opens her arms wide and June hurries up the stairs to give her mother a tight hug.
“I’m so glad you’re safe, baby,” Nicole says, her eyes closed.
She rocks with June in her embrace, then peppers her daughter’s face with kisses.
“Mom! Mom!”
June laughs, twisting her face away to escape her mother’s persistent affection. She squirms free and Nicole grabs me next.
“And thank you for keeping her safe, Mal.”
You wouldn’t be thanking me if you knew what I did to your daughter.
The look on June’s face says she’s thinking the same thing. I hadn’t felt guilty about what I did to June until now, as her mother hugs me, her tight embrace a sign of immense gratitude.
Relief fills me when Nicole finally releases me and invites us into the house.
* * *
Paul rotates the chicken on the grill as I give him a rundown of everything that happened with the intruder. Of course, I leave out the filthy parts where I got more than a little handsy with his daughter.
He closes the grill when he’s done arranging the meat, waving the tongs as he speaks.
“Did the detective give you any updates about the ex and the friend’s cousin?”
“He said he’s still looking into their alibis.”
“And what about the landlord? You told him about that guy? Sounds like it might be him if you said he looked like the intruder.”
“I mentioned him to the detective. Yeah, he was about the same height and build, but the guy looks like he’s in his late fifties.”
Paul takes a sip of his beer and scowls. “So? Lots of old perverts out there. The fucker knows he’ll never get a chance with my Junebug so he got desperate. Tell me where he lives. I want to kick his ass.”
You’ll have to kick mine first.
“I’m with you that he has motive and that he fits the description, but I don’t know if he’s athletic enough to outrun me and jump over a ten-foot wall.”
“Haven’t you ever heard of old man strength? He also had plenty motivation to get away from you. He knew you would fuck him up if you caught him.” Paul shakes his head. “Fucking asshole. I’m just glad you’ve been there for June, keeping her safe.”
Fuck. I wish like hell Paul and Nicole would stop thanking me for protecting June. Even if they’re right, I haven’t exactly been a model hero. What’s it called when the good guy is also a bad guy?
I shift my feet and clear my throat.
“I’ve been thinking I would give her some self-defence lessons.”
Paul nods as he opens the grill, the puff of smoke carrying the delicious scent of seasoned meat.
“I like that,” he says as he rotates the chicken again. “You should teach her how to use a gun too.”
“I’ll suggest that to her and see what she thinks.”
He closes the grill again and his expression turns contemplative.
“On second thought, she’ll probably say no. She’s like her mother. Nicole doesn’t like guns. I once suggested we should get one and she hated the idea.”
Paul goes quiet and still, then he blinks and takes a long swig of his beer.
“By the way, Nicole and I are getting a divorce,” he blurts out.
It’s not totally surprising to hear this news, but it’s strange hearing it today of all days. It’s his and Nicole’s wedding anniversary. June and I were invited to celebrate it.
“That’s... I’m sorry to hear that, man.”
“We don’t want to ruin Daphne’s wedding, so we’re waiting until after October to tell the kids.”
“What—” I hesitate, struggling to word the question in a delicate way. “Why did you guys decide to get one?”
Paul takes a deep breath then blows it out in a long exhale.
“Because of me. I’m unfaithful and Nicole believes I’ll never change after giving me so many chances to do it.” He shakes his head. “Daphne told her I was flirting with a woman at her engagement party. Which is true because I’m a fucking idiot with no fucking self-control.”
I wisely hold my tongue instead of saying what pops into my head.
Yeah, I saw that. And, yeah, you are.
Paul and I seem to share the same curse—wanting things we shouldn’t want and taking things we shouldn’t have. But if I’m lucky enough to have June, I have zero intention of letting my eyes stray to anyone else.
After he checks the temperature of the meat, Paul removes them from the grill, piling them onto a nearby plate. Nicole comes over and takes the plate of steaming barbecued chicken. The warm smile she directs at me chills when she looks at Paul.
Ouch. Poor guy.
He watches her carry the plate to the long picnic table where the rest of the food is laid out and the others are seated.
“Mal, I fucked up a good thing,” Paul continues, a crestfallen look on his face. “A good life. And for what? Lost my beautiful, intelligent wife, my daughters resent me, and my son couldn’t care less if I exist.”
At one end of the table, Nate and Jeremy are bent over a handheld gaming device as Nate points and explains something. Near the middle, June, Daphne, Nicole and Nicole’s sister Erica are chatting while they eat.
I don’t know what to say to Paul. The pain on his face makes me pity him. He looks like he’s struggling not to cry.
When we were kids, we were merciless with each other if we detected any hint of tears, and Paul’s dad was meaner than us. Men don’t cry. We get fucking angry. That’s what he would say in his heavy accent.
I pat his shoulder. “You owned your mistakes, Paulie. That’s good. Now, you can fix them. Work on being a better man and a better father.”
Paul nods. “Then Nicole will see that I can change and I might be able to win her back.” He pins me with a hard stare. “Learn from my mistakes, Mal. When you find a good woman, don’t take her for granted. Never let her go.”
“I hear you, brother.”
My gaze drifts to the picnic table again. To June. Sunlight shining through the tree branches dapples her skin, her smile radiant as she leans in with interest, listening to something Daphne’s saying.
It’s obviously a funny story judging by Daphne’s animated hand movements, and the women laugh at the ending. As her humour fades, June catches my stare, and it feels like it’s just the two of us in the backyard.
Every part of me wants to march over there and grab her, haul her into the house and claim every inch of her the second the door closes behind us.
The spell is broken when Daphne swings a look over her shoulder at me. I quickly turn my head and focus my attention on Paul adding more meat to the grill.