15. Ruby
My head hurts, albeit less than I had expected. My ass also stings slightly, and as I roll over in my bed, I think back to the events of last night.
Oh God.
I’m still wearing my outfit from last night, minus my shoes, and it is pretty obvious that Samuel did not spend the night in my bed. Frustrated, I look down at the bracelets on my wrist. He didn’t want it, not even after he was so sweet to me and I wish I knew why this hurts.
The stupid bracelets were supposed to be a joke, something to provoke him, which is exactly what I archived as I showed them to him. He was never supposed to actually wear them. I shot myself in the foot with the damn things.
I thought going out would distract me, that it would take my mind off of the whole situation with Sam. Instead, I feel like I caused an even bigger mess. And to top that mountain of misery, I now have the confirmation that Sarah was probably never a real friend and that I’ve wasted over two years of my life by being in a relationship with Brian.
Karma really bites my ass right now, because as I pull out my phone, the first thing I see is a post from Sarah. She’s sitting on Brian”s lap, kissing him.
Good for them, they made it official;I think as I block her and delete her number. It was long overdue.
It must be nice to have real friends. Or a family, someone you can talk to. Jonah is probably still asleep after his shift, and I don’t want to annoy poor Richard with my drama. Instead, I scroll through my contacts. My phone is filled to the brim with numbers. People I talked to once or twice until I realized I shouldn’t expect more than mundane small talk from them.
It also filled with the numbers of men who would pay to fly me out of the country, men who would probably wear the fucking bracelet if it got them my attention and my body in return.
Unfortunately, I only want Samuels’ attention, and he doesn’t want the bracelet or my body. It would be funny if it wasn’t messing with my self-imposed rules so much.
No feelings.
No relationships.
No commitment.
Not until I find a way to bring at least a continent between me and my father. And get a new identity, preferably.
I throw my phone to my left and decide that I’m just going to sleep for a few more hours until the remaining alcohol leaves my system.
When I wake up again, it’s early evening, judging by the golden light that comes through my blinds. If Sam knocked on my door in the past few hours, I didn’t hear it. But maybe he’s just avoiding me. I wouldn’t hold it against him after last night.
My organs feel like they are trying to form an intricate knot inside of me as I get ready to leave my room. Going downstairs means having to see Sam, and I don’t know if I’m ready for that. I don’t know how to act around him now. What started as a dirty little game where I clearly had the lead is now more of a ruined checkerboard, the pieces tumbled over.
Sam must have heard me leave my room, and just as I put a few mozzarella sticks in the oven, he comes down the stairs.
I smile at him, even though I don’t feel like it.
Muscle memory when you have to cover your emotions up for years. My father doesn’t like to see me sad, he doesn’t like to see anyone sad and says that it ruins his mood.
Men don’t like women with a frown on their face, honey.
“Smile, Ruby, looks better.”
I must have been around five or six. Came running to him after a few kids had pushed me around while we were at a country club. One of them also ripped off a necklace I got from my mom. Instead of scolding the other kids, or consoling me, my father just wiped away my tears with the arm of his jacket, looked at my bloodied knees with disgust, and handed me a hundred-dollar bill.
Not even an hour later, those asshole kids beat me up some more, and they took the money, but hey, at least I smiled through it.
One of his men, Vinny, was nice enough to teach me basic self-defense after that. My father was happy that someone else was watching over me and didn’t care that his daughter was under the watch of literal criminals.
And my mom, well, she fought her own battles.
“Hey,” I say as I look at Samuel. I wish I also had a black balaclava right now that hides my expression. I don’t want to flee the situation, partly because of my mozzarella sticks, but also because I want to act like a responsible adult for once, addressing the elephant in the room.
“Let’s just forget about last night, okay? Forget about what I said about you sleeping in my room, forget what I said about the bracelets. I was just drunk. You’re my bodyguard, you get paid to look after me. It’s nothing more than that.”
Lie after lie, but maybe I’ll believe them if I say them out loud. I’m still proud that I said all of this with a smile on my face.
“Alright.”
That’s it, that’s all he has to say about the situation. I don’t know what I expected, but certainly a bit more than alright.
“There are mozzarella sticks in the oven if you want them. Should be done in around ten minutes,” I mumble as I walk past him, suddenly not hungry anymore.
“We can still, you know—no strings attached.”
Thinking before talking, Ruby, but now it’s too late for that.
Samuel puts his hand on my shoulder, and I resist the urge to swat it away. I’m standing on the stairs and I think this is one of the rare occasions where we’re almost the same height. It’s weird to look at him like that while we talk.
I realize I can see his eyes properly for the first time. They are olive green, with lighter specks that look almost golden if the light shines on them at a certain angle. It’s a shame that the last thing I want to do right now is get lost in them.
“Ruby, we shouldn’t repeat any of that. Last night was a mistake. Not only last night, you know what I mean,” he says, looking down.
“Fine.” It hurts, and a part of me thinks I deserve to hear this. The other part is slightly pissed, though.
“Thought you had a good time when you came all over yourself the last time I had my hands on you, but well, guess I got a wrong impression.”
I glare up at Samuel, unable to read his expression because of that godforsaken mask and because he has that Terminator stare perfected while every single one of my emotions is laid bare on my face. His hand on my shoulder twitches slightly, and I wonder if he’s angry.
“Please, don’t make this even worse,” he says, his voice soft and calm. I didn’t expect that. I thought he’d yell at me or hold me one of his lectures again, but he’s empathetic — for Sam-standards — and I don’t know what to make of it.
“I don’t want to give you the wrong idea, this—,” he gestures between him and me, “this won’t work. Whatever you are looking for, I’m not the one to give it to you. This right here is my job, and I’m too old for you either way.”
The smile is long gone from my face, replaced by confusion and annoyance.
Too old. That deserves a special place on the list of reasons someone rejected me. It’s a short list because I rarely get rejected.
“God, please, stop it.” I roll my eyes at him, swatting his hand away from my shoulder. “You’re making it look as if I’m in love, as if I’d want a relationship or something like that.” I laugh, one of those cold, mean girl laughs I heard the last time during high school. I don’t like this version of me, but I also don’t want to admit that I’m hurt.
“You can calm down. I just wanted some fun,” I yell back down as I walk up the stairs. Samuel stands down there like he’s frozen in place, and I’m embarrassed that I am once again the delusional idiot in this house.
“And keep an eye on the mozzarella sticks in the oven. I don’t want to hear the fucking fire alarm again.”
With that, I slam my door shut. The first time this week.