Chapter 6 Stone
SIX
STONE
Lavender is my new favorite color.
It peeks out beneath black strands of straight, shimmery hair, softening her dark edges. Vanna can be feisty, but she looks scarier than she is.
She hides behind black clothes and a studded choker, thick eyeliner rimming her hazel eyes that waver between brown and green, and an attitude that can be off putting to anyone who’s not me.
Now, I sit across from her entertaining these rules, which I have every intention of breaking.
Everything seems to be falling into place. When Jace told me the news that they were having a baby, I wasn’t surprised. Obviously. Though, I put on a show of acting shocked.
However, it did take some convincing to get him to stay rather than move out. Raising a child in a condo that still housed our studio with strangers in and out each day just didn’t make sense, but with the profits from the last few years, we have enough for a studio in the strip down the street.
Once I showed him the books, he wasn’t entirely turned off by the idea. So, here I am.
Just when she thought she could avoid me forever, we’re now stuck under the same roof.
“Fuck.” She murmurs, checking her phone. “It’s midnight.”
“Ah, gotta catch a pumpkin?”
She rolls her eyes. “No, I have work tomorrow, like a grown adult.”
"Are you implying my job is childish.”
She groans, placing her empty wine glass on the table.
“It’s hardly a job. I don’t know how you can even afford to pay rent.”
“I make more than you do.” I snort.
Her brows pinch together. “How would you know?”
Fuck...
“Do you make more than $500K a year?”
It might seem like a lot for a tattoo artist, but seeing the type of clients we attract, it makes plenty of sense. Half of them are celebrities and the other half are… questionable at best.
Her mouth drops open, “No.”
“Didn’t think so.”
“How the fuck do you make that much?” She questions in disbelief, then groans. “Oh God, don’t tell me you sell drugs.”
“Just heroine.” Her nostrils flare. “Kidding! It’s all part of the business, baby.”
“Gross. Don’t call me that.”
I roll my eyes. “Whatever, Darkness.”
“Or that!”
Chuckling, I offer, “My Queen?”
“Ugh! I’m going to bed.”
She stands from the couch and shoves my shoulder, forcing my back against the cushions.
“Night, Darkness.”
She leaves without returning the sentiment. The slam of her bedroom door in the upstairs loft echoes in the apartment as her goodnight.
The next morning, I wake with the place all to myself. Granted it was nearly noon, and her workday was probably half over by now, but it allows me to get a lay of the land.
Though this apartment is spacious for New York, it certainly isn’t big by any means. My room is on the main floor, down the hall from the kitchen and living room. Hers is upstairs in the loft.
My exploration was quick, but I made myself busy by sifting through the cabinets, getting reacquainted with where all the dishes and utensils are. Followed by what is being stored in the entertainment center; classic rock vinyl mixed with new post core metal.
Other than that, there isn’t much else to dig into. The half bath in the hall is exactly as you expect it to be. Void of personality and meant for guests. All that is left is Vanna’s room and I can’t just-
But I do.
Sneaking inside, I shut the door behind me and take it all in.
The room I stand in now is not at all what I imagined it to be, but as I look around, it reflects everything I already know.
The walls are a deep, dark green with a mahogany wooden bed frame and matching nightstands.
The space reminds me of being in the middle of the woods, the colors earthly, and the decor grounding.
In the corner, a leafy plant hangs from the ceiling in a crochet net and framing her window are little twinkle lights, but none of that rivals the little glowing stars that litter her ceiling.
I half expected the walls to be black with band posters plastered to them, but this girl never ceases to surprise me.
Now, more curious than ever, I check her nightstands. The left one has random journals in it. Clearly hinting that this is not the side she sleeps on. In the right, I find what I was hoping to find.
A glaringly obvious smut book accompanied by a pink rabbit vibrator. Some loose condoms and a pack of birth control pills. Picking up the latter, I flip them in my fingers, eyeing them. Two and a half rows are gone, leaving half a row left before the pills change colors.
Mentally, I stash that away, noting when Vanna will get her period. It’s not a weird thing to store in my memory. It will give me leverage for when I should make myself scarce or come home with chocolate – if she’s into that sort of thing. Just like winning a dog over with a pocket treat.
So, I tell myself.
I move onto the dresser across the room and slide open the top drawer.
Different shades of dark lace and cotton are strewn in chaos.
Not a fan of folding laundry, I see. Sifting through, I hear metal scrape along the bottom.
With my hand wrist-deep in panties, I find a metal tin and pull it out.
It’s an old Altoids box, the faint scent of peppermint still lingering.
Opening it, I’m greeted with a thick razor blade. The sight curdles my stomach and a part of me wants to confiscate it. That would be the responsible thing to do, but I shouldn’t be in here in the first place. I’m already violating the rules.
Would she assume it was me that took it if she finds it missing?
Biting my lower lip, I contemplate my next move.
I don’t get a chance to think much longer on it because the door to the apartment opens. My heart thuds inside my chest at a speed that cannot be safe. Seconds pass by and then a minute before Vanna’s voice calls out.
“Stone?”
I don’t answer, hoping she doesn’t come up here.
But of course, she does. Her footsteps grow louder the closer she gets, forcing me to make one of two choices: closet or bathroom.
I shut the door to her bathroom, leaving it cracked just the way it was and watch as she drops her purse on the foot of her bed, then hop on. Through the space between the door and frame, my eyes stay glued to her hands as they reach into her nightstand drawer, retrieving her book.
She’s home for lunch, I slowly realize, and corporate lunches are usually an hour.
Fuck.
While I begin to spiral, trying to find a way out of here without her noticing, a ghost of a whimper reaches my ears. Bringing my gaze back to Vanna, I spot one of her hands tucked beneath the hem of her black maxi skirt.
She moans softly at her own touch and ignites a fire inside my blood, herding it all south. I debate joining her, but it’s probably best to break one rule at a time.
Then, I realize, once she’s finished her first stop will be the bathroom and if she finds me in here after she cums, I’m dead.
Sucking in a deep breath, I stand and quietly make my way over to the toilet. With a wince, I flush. A startled scream comes from the other side of the bathroom door before it swings open.
Vanna’s gaze snaps to mine with wild, furious eyes, and my mind reels with all the excuses in the book.
“Sup.” I grace her with a playful smirk.
“Sup?!” She challenges two octaves too high. “Why the fuck are you in my bathroom?”
Why indeed.
“Why are you home?”
“I’m on lunch- No! Why are you in my bathroom, Lover Boy?”
“I’m falling in love with that nick name.”
“STONE!”
“Fine! God forbid I need a bathroom with toilet paper.”
She narrows her eyes on me and the flush on her face makes her look too cute for her own good. Especially when I know what she was just doing.
“There are two downstairs! How long have you been in here?”
I fight the smile tugging at the corners of my mouth.
“Not long.”
She pinches her lips and crosses her arms.
I take her silence as an invitation to leave, but before I can, she snipes, “Not going to wash your hands?”
As I pass her by, I chuckle and bend down to her ear. “Not gunna wash yours?”
“I can’t believe I commute to work now.” I grumble, tossing my drawstring bag at the foot of my desk.
Prior to moving out, I just had to traipse a few feet down the hall to our studio and now, I’m a two-minute drive or a twenty-minute walk away. In the city, both options suck, but it’s all worth it.
“Pretty soon, we’ll both have to commute. How was night one?” Jace asks, joining me in the room.
He leans against his own desk and blows at his steaming cup of coffee. I spin on my stool to face him.
“Fine.”
I shrug, then drag my palms down the center of my face in hopes of erasing the image of Vanna’s hand down her skirt.
Jace hides a chuckle with a small sip from his mug.
“Seems like it.”
“Whatever dude. I can’t believe I agreed to this.”
Scratch that, I know exactly why I agreed, but I wasn’t about to tell my best friend I have an unhealthy obsession with Vanna.
“I’m having a baby, Stone. I’m sorry, but I have to get my shit together. We’ll be thirty next year and this isn’t entirely farfetched for someone our age.”
I drop my head between my shoulders, “Yeah, you’re right. I’m just a fucking loser.”
He rolls his honey-colored eyes.
“You’re so dramatic. You’re not a loser. Hit it off with Vanna and who knows, maybe we can both be dads together. I kind of always thought that would be the case.”
“Are you suggesting I knock her up?”
The idea is insane but can’t deny the way the thought of fucking Vanna makes my cock twitch. Impregnating her? Well...
Coffee nearly sprays out of Jace’s mouth. “No, dumbass! What I am suggesting is to get to know her. Damn.”
“Sure.” I tease before spinning back around to my desk.
With my first appointment of the day starting in an hour, I have to finish this sketch. Just a few more tweaks and it should be ready.
“Stone, I’m serious. I really wasn’t suggesting that.”
“Obviously.” I shake my head.
But even as the rest of the day drags on, I can’t stop thinking about what it would feel like to be inside this girl. It’s entirely insane - I know this - she hates me. But I’m going to fuck the hate right out of her until she’s as addicted to me as I am her.