16. Wear Something Nice
Wear Something Nice
Arlo
‘L augh it up, bud,’ I grumble as I scrape the overcooked chicken into the bowl of a happily waiting Beans. He loves it when I’m off my game because he gets the spoils, and today, I am off my game.
Since I was locked up, cooking has been my thing. I managed to get a job in the kitchen in prison and was able to learn and gain qualifications, and when I got out, I kept on learning and developing my passion. I wanted to cook for a living, but when it came to setting up my life and my business on the outside, I took the easy route and leaned into what I had always known. I was taking apart and putting together engines before I hit double figures, so it felt safe.
So, professionally, I work on cars, trucks, and bikes day in, day out, but in my personal life, I cook. Even when it’s just for me, I take my time and make the effort to produce something special. Today though, I can’t even focus enough to take my damn chicken out of the skillet before it becomes tough and dry because all I can think about is Bree. The memories of her hands on me, her eyes on me, the way she held onto me as though she never wanted to let go, and then the look in her eyes as she watched me cuffed and carted away.
The time around her has been more confusing than I anticipated. When she’s right there in front of me, it’s hard to remember why I spent the last twenty years trying to hate her. The second she’s out of sight, that old resentment creeps back in.
Sighing, I quickly season more chicken and start over. All this for a goddam sandwich. I could just buy some precooked slices but, no , I’m feeling particular.
Without wanting to sound like a whining kid, it’s the fact that she never said sorry. Granted, I didn’t give her the opportunity to back then. I was too angry, but now, if the tables were turned, if I’d been responsible for stealing away years of her life, I’d have been on my knees begging her forgiveness the moment I laid eyes on her.
‘Jesus.’ I shake my head at my pettiness. ‘I’m thirty-nine years old, Beans. You’d think I’d be over this by now.’
I was over it, for the most part. I hadn’t had more than a passing thought about Bree in years, but then Mrs. C asked me to do this thing, and now—I sigh as I flip my chicken— now I am in close proximity to her, and the urge to scream at her for screwing me over is stronger than I need it to be. The urge to get her naked and find out what tattoos she’s hiding is un-fucking-bearable.
Sitting at my dining table with my perfectly cooked chicken, pesto, and salad sandwich, I open my laptop and pull up the feed from the cameras I installed facing Bree’s place. I haven’t gotten close enough to put them on her porch yet, but I will if we don’t draw this prick out fast.
I run it back to last night and see Bree watering the lawn in her front yard once the sun started to set. She had on those cute as fuck little shorts she was wearing this morning. Watching her, I notice the nervous way she keeps looking around as if she knows she’s being watched, and then she turns to head back inside but stops, looks over toward my place for a long moment, then disappears, and I speed up the video.
Midnight, one, two in the morning, and nothing, but then, 3:07 am, and there’s something that piques my interest. Slowing the video down to normal speed, I put down my sandwich and lean in. It’s not clear, too far away to make out any features, but there’s someone. They don’t get too close to the house, but behind the tree at the end of her front yard, a shadow, too tall to be an animal but hardly moving.
‘What the fuck is he doin’?’
I speed up the footage, and for thirty-five minutes, he stands there, just watching her house before backing away, and my skin crawls. He was right there, the son of a bitch was right there, and now that I know that, I know this plan is going to work.
He’s obsessed with her, and we can use that. I just need to remember that this thing between us isn’t real, and it’ll all be just fine.
I pick up my cell and open a message, ready to text Bree for the first time since she gave me her number today.
Me : Let me take you out tonight.
The dots of a reply start, then stop, then start again. And then it comes.
Bree : Like, as friends?
I can’t help the small smile as I read her words, knowing she doesn’t want to get too far ahead of herself.
Me : Nah, not as friends, pix. Wear something nice. I’m taking you on a date.
The thumbs-up emoji she sends in response makes me laugh loudly at her straight-to-the-point, no-fuss attitude as I pick up my sandwich and take another bite.
Not real, Arlo. It is not real.
Nineteen Years Ago
‘C an you get away?’ I asked her as she leaned against the front of the van after bringing me a drink. She nodded. ‘I can’t be seen taking you out, so can you meet me?’
‘Yeah, I can.’ She smiled. I was taking her out on a date. Viking would put me in the ground if he found out after he warned me to stay away, but I didn’t care. Weeks of conversations, weeks of getting to know Bree, of her smiles and laughs, and the way she looked at me had me convinced that I’d risk anything for her.
‘7-Eleven. Eight o’clock?’ She nodded, smiling wide as she backed away. ‘Wear jeans. I’m taking you on a ride.’
I winked, and she bit her lip, and goddam, it was going to take all my strength to keep my hands off her, but I needed to. She wasn’t what I was used to or one of the girls at the club. I respected them, and I would never treat them badly, but they were there for sex, they knew it, they were happy with that, and we took advantage of it. It was my only experience of sex, it being on tap, but Bree was something else. She was the thing I never realized I was searching for until the moment she climbed out of that car all those weeks ago. I wasn’t going to blow this because I couldn’t keep my dick in my pants.
I got there early. I didn’t want her to be waiting alone, so I was leaning against my bike, my ankles crossed, when she pulled up into the parking lot and climbed out of her car.
I’d spent so long convincing myself how different she was from the women I was used to that I forgot who her dad was, so seeing her in jeans and boots, a black shirt and leather jacket hit me straight in the dick . Fuck . I was in trouble. I came into this so confident, but this girl, with her long brown hair and smart mouth, was going to have me on my knees.
‘Hey, short stuff,’ I said as she approached me and smiled. ‘You look good in leather.’
‘So do you.’ She moved her attention to my bike. She’d only ever seen me in the van, and I loved the way her eyes moved over my girl in appreciation. ‘Nice bike.’
‘Thanks, I assume you’re not new to riding.’
She smirked now and reached for the spare bucket helmet I’d brought for her, securing it on her head.
‘I’m not.’ I pulled mine on and straddled my bike, and she climbed on behind me, her thighs hugging my hips as she leaned forward and brought her hands around to my stomach so that her chest was pressed up against my back. ‘In any way.’
Fuck. End of me. She was going to be the end of me.
‘This is pretty,’ Bree said as we reached the spot I had dreamed of bringing her to. It was a forty-five-minute ride with her pressed up against me, and I never wanted to get here because it felt too good, but now, seeing her take in the view of the city, her hair full of the wind from the ride, her curves silhouetted against the setting sun, I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.
I pulled out the blanket I brought and laid it out on the ground so we could sit.
‘I love it up here,’ I admitted as she turned to see me sitting and moved to join me.
‘You bring girls up here often?’
‘Never, pix,’ I said, reaching up my hand to push her hair behind her ear.
‘You’re pretty smooth and kinda pretty, in like a really obvious way.’ I laughed when she rolled her eyes. ‘I bet they fall over themselves to be alone with you.’ For the first time, I saw some insecurity in her eyes, and I hated that.
‘I’ve never brought anybody else up here, Bree. Just you.’
And then she moved, giving me no warning before she pressed her lips to mine, and I knew I’d been right. I knew as my mouth moved against hers, her tongue rolled against mine, as I laid her down and her hands pushed up into my hair, as she moaned against my kiss and pulled me closer to her, that this girl was everything to me. One kiss changed the entire trajectory of my life, and nothing had ever felt so good.