Burn Page 10

  Home? I want to laugh. This isn’t my home. It’s a couch I sleep on sometimes. “Yeah,” I whisper, setting down the cup of coffee I snagged on my way here from a café around the corner, thankful they were open on Christmas morning. There’s no way I’m getting through today without caffeine.

  “So . . .?” Her eyes gleam with a brightness I haven’t seen in a while. She never liked Judah, so I suppose she never cared to ask how things went with us when we were together. Now she seems almost excited to hear about my night.

  I want to tell her every single detail as I remember it, but I can’t. It’s not like I remember much of it but it comes back in waves, like flashes of memories piled on top of more flashes and I’m not sure what happened when.

  I sigh in contentment, even bat my eyelashes a little and I feel slightly like Sandra Dee in Grease and want to break out singing “Summer Nights.”

  Instead, I go with, “He’s the hottest guy ever!” which is equally as cheesy, but I can’t help my grin or the pink to my cheeks from forming.

  “Are you talking about me?” Owen asks, choosing then to wake up.

  I jump, grabbing at my chest and trip over his shoes landing on the floor. “Holy shit, you scared me.”

  Owen winks, his arms behind his head but at this angle, from the floor, the pillow isn’t covering too much of him, and I can see his balls. Not the angle I wanted this early.

  I stand, rather quickly, grab my coffee and head to the bathroom.

  “Want me to tell Caleb you’ll call?” Owen asks.

  “No!”

  When I’m in the bathroom, my back pressed to the door, I’m sad. I want him to tell Caleb to call me. There’s just something about that guy I can’t shake. But I can’t call him. Not with everything going on in my life. The last thing I need to do is bring him into this mess of shit I call life.

  Knowing I need to get in the shower, I finish the rest of my coffee and stare at myself in the mirror. It’s a good damn thing Caleb wasn’t awake this morning. I have mascara all over my face, and my hair looks worse than Scarlet’s. It’s matted on one side, and the other looks like I have I stuck my head out the window during a hurricane.

  Just as I’m unbuttoning my jeans, Scarlet opens the door without knocking. “So . . . tell me about Caleb.”

  It’s her apartment. I can’t really complain about the lack of privacy. I only just started sleeping over. “I need to shower and get over to my parents’.” All that really translates into is me being afraid if I start talking about Caleb, I won’t shut up. “It’s already ten, and I was supposed to be there by now. Aren’t you going to see your grandma today?”

  “Yeah, later. It’s not like she’ll know if I show up or not.” Scarlet rolls her eyes, attempting to get the tangles out of her curly hair, still naked. I think she’s making the knots in her hair worse but I don’t say anything because she’ll ask me to brush it for her if I do. “My grandma doesn’t even know who I am anymore. She thinks I’m the little neighbor kid from her childhood.”

  “I still can’t believe your mom up and moved away and left her alone in that nursing home.”

  “You shouldn’t be surprised. When my dad was dying, she made sure to up his life insurance and then skipped town when they wouldn’t cash it out to her.” Scarlet gasps from behind me when I have my shirt off and turning the water on.

  “What?” I don’t look back at her because I’m half naked and not as open as she is with showing off my goods.

  “You lucky bitch, did you get his number?”

  I cover my boobs with my hands and face her. “What? Why?”

  Did he brand my ass or something?

  “Dude, you have bruises all over. Was he rough or something?”

  I recall pieces of the night, that parts where he’d pull my hair or when he had me on the floor on the second time around and my face buried in the ground as he slammed into me from behind. Heat spreads through my body and the remembrance of his touch.

  Was he rough?

  I couldn’t remember his hold being too much. “I guess. Maybe a little.” Twisting around, I wave my hand back at her. “Seriously, I have to get ready or my mother is going to kill me. Then you won’t have a job because you know damn well the only way you’re still working there is because of me.”

  In the mirror, I can see Scarlet frown behind me. “You’re right.”

  I’M NOT SURE how but I make it to my parents’ house on Elliot Bay about an hour later and they haven’t started brunch yet.

  You’d be surprised to know my parents’ place isn’t as fancy as the hotel. My father, Weston, he’s a man of simple tastes at home. And my mother, I think she goes with whatever my dad agrees to. While she makes most of the home decisions, they surprisingly complement each other well and have a relationship noteworthy of a storybook.

  They met as kids, married after college, but when it came time to start a family, my mother found out she couldn’t have kids. She’s never had a period. While I envy her on that part, I know how badly it hurt her not being able to feel life growing inside of her.

  They never dwelled on it though and eventually when they were in their mid-thirties, they adopted me. I was six months old when I came to live with them. My biological parents were from Hawaii and tried to take care of me, but they were young, really young. I think my mother was fourteen when she had me and my father was sixteen.

  I don’t remember them, but I saw a picture once, and from what I can tell, I look identical to my father with my mother’s smile.

  “Milena, you’re here, honey.” Mom greets me with a smile when I walk into the kitchen with their Christmas presents. Pushing up the sleeve of my red sweater, I hug her tightly to my chest and then wince when she does the same because, yup, I totally have bruises from Caleb.

  And just like that, my thoughts move back to him. Goddamn that controlling bastard wrecking my brain today.

  “Hey, Mom.”

  We part, and she holds me at arms-length. “Why were you late?”

  “Traffic.” That’s not a lie. Traffic was a nightmare getting over here, so I do okay with telling her that part.

  She waves toward the dining room where the rest of the family is seated at the table overflowing with food. “Everyone’s gathered at the table. Join us and we’ll do gifts later.”

  Nodding, I reach for a glass of champagne on the counter before making my way inside the dining room.

  Christmas morning at my parents’ house is an event in itself. Our whole family comes over and most of the family I don’t care for. Mostly because they use my parents for their money and while I know Mom and Dad see it, they don’t say anything because family is the most important thing to them.

  It’s sad, really, because they’d rather give gifts to have people come over and celebrate with them than be alone.

  Stepping into the room, conversation flows from the table. Dad’s eyes meet mine with warmth. “Kendra,” Dad yells from the table to my mother still in the kitchen filling a plate with bacon wrapped scallops. “Come in here, darlin’. We’re ready to eat.”

  They’re sickening with their adorableness.

  “Coming,” Mom chimes, her heels clicking against the tile floor as she scrambles into the dining room.

  Dad winks at me, his arm around my shoulders as he squeezes me to his side. “Hey, honey, Merry Christmas.”

  “Merry Christmas, Dad.”

  Brunch gets started quickly and everyone is talking, loud laughter at the stories my uncle tells, and I think maybe I’m going to get away free without anyone asking where my plus one is. I usually bring someone with me to Christmas. It’s like I can’t go anywhere by myself. Which is true to my personality. I don’t like to be alone. And here you were thinking, shit, this chick’s cool. Well, you found my downfall. Secret’s out. I attach myself to people in fear of being alone.

  It’s then with my thoughts on my phobia of being alone, Dad glances around the room and my heart skips a beat. Fuck. I
had told them earlier in the week Judah was coming with me and he’s figured it out.

  My dad Doesn’t like Judah. In fact, I can’t think of many people who did. “Where’s that guy, James?”

  See? Doesn’t even know his name.

  “Judah?”

  “Yeah, are you still living with him?”

  Of all the luck. Why would he ask that? Do I have break-up-post-greatest-one-night-stand-of-my-life face on right now?

  In fear of lying to my dad, something I’ve never been able to pull off, I take the biggest bite I can fit in my mouth of prime rib just so I don’t have to speak. And then I nod.

  “Where is he, Milena?” Mom asks, cutting into her meat with grace. “I thought you said he’d be coming with you.”

  My mother is always so perfect from her well-thought-out clothing choices to her hair and makeup. I can’t ever remember seeing my mother a mess. Unlike myself right now. I look like someone who, well, got very little sleep and took a two-minute shower. I’m pretty sure there’s still shampoo in my hair.

  And I know what you’re thinking. How does a girl like me manage a hotel?

  Despite my behavior these last forty-eight hours, I do have a handle on my life. Not a good one, but at work I know what I’m doing. I’m completely capable of doing my job. It’s everything else, like existing, that’s somewhat of a challenge for me at times.

  “He’s at his parents’ house today.” That’s not a lie. I may not know where he is, but I can guarantee he will be at his parents’ at some point. Dude’s a mama’s boy. He probably still calls her mommy for Christ’s sakes.

  We once had a fight over how long you’re supposed to cook spaghetti noodles, and he called her to ask. Then spent the next forty-five minutes telling her all about his week. I swear they talked every day, but for a twenty-eight-year-old drummer, that’s weird, right?

  Taking my fork, I push my cheesy scallop potatoes around the plate, my cousin Nick smiling beside me. I don’t like Nick. You’ll see why any second when he speaks.

  “Mila, what’s the matter?” Nick asks, his crooked teeth caked with food. “You look nervous?”

  Oh look, you didn’t have to wait too long.

  I turn toward him, my eyes roaming over his greased-back blond hair to his coked-out black eyes. There’s a reason why I don’t like him, and it has nothing to do with his substance abuse problems and his lack of dental hygiene. It’s the fact that he uses my dad and uncle as his own personal bank and on more than one occasion, we’ve let him stay at the hotel in an attempt to get his life together.

  Yet he doesn’t. He’s thirty-one. You’d think at some point he’d realize, wow, I’m going about life the wrong way.

  He’s somewhat of an inspiration to me. Like, hey, I’m not as bad as Nick and yet somehow at every family function I’m stuck sitting next to him. Maybe it’s because we’re both the ones showing up late.

  “Shut up and don’t talk to me.” I scoot away from Nick and into Aunt Lauren. “Switch seats.”

  Aunt Lauren smirks. “No fuckin’ way.”

  As you can see, she’s my favorite aunt. She’s also my only aunt, so maybe that’s why, but whatever the reason, she’s cool as shit. Imagine having Amy Schumer as your aunt. That’s exactly how Lauren is. She owns her own hair salon in Bellevue and if you ever want to look like a runway model for a night while lounging at home, let her dress you.

  Thankfully, Dad gets into a conversation with Uncle Wayne. He’s the director of marketing at the hotel, so they are constantly having work conversations. I try to stay out of them and focus on the aspects of the hotel I control.

  Lauren leans into me and frowns at my hair. “I wasn’t going to say anything, but you look like hell today.”

  I stare at my plate. “Thanks. I spent hours on this look.”

  “You’re lucky your mom hasn’t made you go change yet.”

  Once again pushing the sleeves of my overly large sweater up, my gaze shifts to my legs crossed under the table. I thought I put together my outfit pretty well. Red sweater, black pants, heels . . . “What’s wrong with my clothes?”

  Lauren reaches out and tucks a loose strand of hair back into my bun. “It’s your hair. It’s . . . all over the place and you still have shampoo in it.”

  Shit. See. I told you.

  Clearing my throat, I scoot back and excuse myself to the bathroom. I’m standing in there, alone, in front of the sink but I don’t look up right away. I don’t because the moment I look in the mirror, I know the reminder that’s going to hit me.

  The reminder of the night, the memories of a man I can’t shake today. I’ll be reminded because he’s the reason I’m late, the reason my thoughts are scrambled and I’m a mess on Christmas.

  The moment I raise my eyes, lift them to my reflection, there’s a sharp pinch in my chest. There’s the reminder. On my neck there’re those pink dots, despite my olive skin.

  I need to forget about him, but a guy who fucks like that, it’s not possible.

  I’m screwed.

  Goddamn that firefighter.

  Charged Hose

  A hose that’s filled with water and pressurized, ready to use. This is done after the hose is deployed.

  I’m hard the moment I wake up. It’s no surprise, but I’m disappointed when I realize I’m alone and Mila’s gone.

  Goddamn it!

  I should have tied her up.

  No, you shouldn’t have. You’d be just as bad as Kellan.

  Rolling onto my back, I stare at the ceiling, blinking away the sleep. It’s cold in the loft as always. Jacey sleeps with the goddamn window open in her room, and it’s below my room. It’s like she freezes me out up here.

  Sighing, I raise my hands to my hair, running them through it and knowing I need to get up and shower. But I can’t with the hard-on I have. Might as well take care of it.

  Dropping my right hand below the sheet, I palm my dick, my eyes drifting closed at the sensation of pleasure it sends through my body. My back stiffens, the need for release again damn near suffocating. I can hear my heart thudding in my head with my pulse.

  Memories of last night surface and I imagine Mila’s warm pussy tightening around me and squeeze my dick, groaning at the thought as I pump my hand faster.

  Just as I’m getting close, I hear someone coming up the stairs to my room.

  Stupid fucking roommates!

  It’s times like this I wished I lived alone, but I know I can’t afford my own place in Seattle. I sit up against the wall because the only way it’s not going to be obvious I have a hard-on is if I’m sitting up.

  “Hey, sunshine,” Jacey calls out with a bagel and coffee in hand as she steps into my room barefoot and wearing Evan’s SFD hoodie she stole a few years ago.

  At least she’s got pants on. She walks around half-naked a lot, but since we broke up, I’ve never had those kinds of thoughts about her. Owen probably does. Mostly because he’s dirty like that but assures her she’s only for the spank bank.

  She sits on my bed and hands me the bagel and coffee. “Don’t say I never did anything for you.”

  There’re some benefits to having her work part-time at Starbucks when she’s not at the bar. Free coffee and bagels.

  I take the bagel from her and then the coffee. After one sip, I set it on the nightstand but don’t say anything to her. When I twist, the sheet moves and Jacey makes a gagging sound.

  “Caleb, are you hard?”

  I groan and roll my eyes, playing it off. “It’s morning. Most men are.”

  Just as I’m taking a bite, Jacey’s grin lifts mischievously. “I licked the cream cheese off that.”

  She probably did. “I don’t even care at this point.” I lean over for the coffee on the nightstand again. “I’m so hungry.”

  “Put your dick away. I can see it.”

  I’m naked, but there’s no way she can see it under the sheet. Maybe a little but not enough to make it out. She’s just being dramatic. “You
’ve literally seen it before.”

  “I don’t remember what it looks like. We were sixteen then and don’t be an ass. I don’t want to see it. I’m a lady.”

  “A lady?” I raise an eyebrow and put a pillow over my lap. “Says who?”

  She smacks my head. “God, you’re a butthead sometimes.”

  “If you hit me again, I’m going to hit you back,” I warn, chewing slowly around the bite of the bagel I’ve just taken. “How’d you get home last night?”

  “I walked.”

  “You did not. You’re afraid of walking alone.”

  “True. Evan gave me a ride.”

  “I bet he did.”

  She smacks me again. On any given day, she smacks the side of my head twenty times. It’s like a slug-bug game to her. I’m not impressed by it.

  This time I take the other half of my bagel she gave me and smash it into her hair. “Stop hitting me. And E is using you because even though you broke up, or were never together for that matter, you constantly spread your legs for him.”

  She glares, but there’s a good amount of disbelief I just smashed a bagel to her face. I’m actually surprised I did too. I really wanted the other half of the bagel. Damn it.

  “You fucker. I just showered.” Her eyes gloss over and the last part of what I said hits her. She doesn’t need the reminder. She’s well aware of the shit show she’s created with him. “And I know I’m being an idiot with E. I don’t need you to tell me that. And what time are we going over to your parents’ house?”

  Lying my head back against the wall, I sigh. “It’s Christmas, isn’t it?”

  “Well, last night was Christmas Eve, so yeah, I suppose today is Christmas morning.” Standing, she looks around my room for what I assume might be a towel to wipe the cream cheese from her hair. “Jesus, Caleb. What the hell happened in here?”

  Right. It’s a goddamn mess in here.

  “Don’t know.” I shrug, taking the last bite of the bagel. “All we did was talk and braid each other’s hair.” I glance at the clock and see it’s almost eleven and we should be getting over to my parents’.