My Side (3 page)

Tom chuckled into the
phone, “Well, good luck with that, Lochlan, not that you’ll need it. Goodbye
Erin, let me know what you decide.” With that he hung up.

I stood there staring
at the phone, wondering what in the hell had just happened.

I dropped back onto
the couch, “This can’t be happening.”

He rolled his eyes,
“It’s alright, princess. You’ll get by. It’s six—maybe eight weeks tops,
like the man said. How hard can it be? Surely you had roommates in North
Dakota.”

I felt a loss of
control. I didn’t like that feeling. I stood up abruptly and walked to the
hallway to get my bags. I snarled, “I guess I’ll take the other room, since you
already had a friend sleep over.”

He put his hands up
but never stopped smiling, “Hey, I got here today too. She wasn’t my friend and
she didn’t sleep over. She was my waitress. Now since you ran her off, I’d be
more than happy to let you take her place. You can pay me back for macing me.”
He winked and gave me a one-sided smile.

I growled and lifted
the mace again. He put his hands in the air, “It was a joke, princess.”

I made a guttural
noise, “Stop calling me that. I’m not a princess.” I turned and dragged my crap
to my room. When I closed the door, I felt like everything was spinning out of
control.

How had this become my
reality?

I plunked on my bed
and texted my brother.

‘I have an issue.’

He didn’t respond. I
felt my lower lip creeping out as the pout took over. Instead of being a baby
and letting it get me down, I started unpacking. I could control this space.
This was mine.

I set up everything
and checked the bed to ensure it was actually clean. Part of the payment of the
damage deposit had been professional cleaners and fresh linens. It had been the
ideal place the rent. I sat on the bed and sighed. Everything had been perfect
for five whole seconds. But now I couldn’t let myself get too comfortable. The
blue-eyed devil with the cocky grin was no doubt getting this place. I would be
packing and moving all over again.

A knock startled me. I
looked at the door confused, did he want us to talk and be friends… like he
wasn’t stealing my home. “What?”

He opened the door,
“Come with me,” he said it expectantly.

I felt myself pulling
backwards, farther into the bed, “What?” I asked disgustedly.

He put a huge hand
out. I noticed the callouses on the tips of his fingers, “Come with me. I have
an idea.”

I looked at his hand,
like he was holding something dangerous out for me to look at. I stood but
didn’t move towards the door. He laughed and stepped back so I could walk out.
When I got into the hallway, he just looked down on me, like he was studying
me. Being close to him in the hallway, made me clutch my mace and try to ignore
how hot he was.

His look turned shady
as his eyes traveled every contour of my face. I sneered, making him smile.
“Hmm,” he made a sound and walked away. I followed him to the front door with
my key in my pocket, and mace in my hand, in case he got any funny ideas. But
he left first and locked it when I stepped out.

I walked in his shadow
and tried to ignore how tall and big he was or how good he smelled.

He was the enemy.
The sexy enemy.

I grinned bitterly,
“You know the gentlemanly thing to do, would be to let me stay.”

He looked back and
winked, “I know, that’s why I am.”

I hated him, even if
he smelled good and looked like sex on a stick. He was tall, six-foot-two
maybe, with a thickness to him that made his tee shirt tight in the chest and arms.
But he wasn’t bulky, lean and strong looking. His dark hair was cut and styled
in a fohawk, with some of it hanging in the back almost like a mullet, but
somehow on his cocky, sexy body, it was hot. I noticed a huge, sun tattoo at
the base of his neck, sticking out the top of his shirt. His back flexed as he
walked. I mentally slapped myself. It was hot in the stairwell and I hadn’t had
sex in a while. That’s all it was. I didn’t sleep around, and not with guys who
had already done it once that day with someone else. I shuddered, imagining it.

We walked down the
street, not talking. It was awkward and annoying. He slowed down when I fell
behind, waiting for me, “You hungry?”

I shrugged and walked
next to him, I had wanted to be done my run and drinking a smoothie, or
whatever cool dinner I had made myself. He was messing with my plan. But for
some reason, I didn’t mind as much as I was protesting and acting like I did. I
felt safe being with him. He was
capable,
I let him
lead me around. It was an odd new experience and I didn’t even know why I was
doing it. I rationalized it, that we needed to get to know each other, but I
knew I didn’t care about that. He was too close to me, smelling good and
hovering. I liked it and I could rationalize the devil out of it, but something
about him made me want to take my shirt off.

He stopped at a dingy
restaurant and opened the door for me. Cool air blasted from inside. I
scrunched up my nose and stepped in. He walked ahead of me, when I stopped and
stared at the décor. I followed him, gazing all around me, stunned at the
smells and scary-looking people.

I looked around as we
neared a table. “We just seat ourselves?” I asked, a little confused. He
laughed and plunked into the booth. I sat down slowly, trying to see if I was
sitting in anything. It wasn’t my kind of place. I wasn’t a total snob; my
favorite foods were truck foods like on Eat Street, but this was like a truck
stop. The greasy-haired people seemed seedy and I felt like I stuck out.

“Relax, princess. They
won’t bite you.”

I gave him a look. He
winked, “I might though.”

We
were interrupted by a waitress
with big boobs and
huge blonde hair. She was instantly sexing him up with her stare. He enchanted
every inch of her too. Some people had behavioral
ticks,
Lochlan’s was sex appeal. Charm that made me want to touch him or be near him.
The waitress noticed it; ladies on the street noticed it.

He played with the
salt shakers, glancing up at her through his thick lashes, “We’ll have two mugs
of draft and,” he paused and looked at me, “You eat meat?”

I nodded, feeling
completely confused by him.

“And two of the house
burgers with fries, please.”

She giggled and left,
“Sure thing.”

He held my stare for a
minute and then sat back confidently, like he was taking me in, “What’s your
deal?”

I thought I misheard
him for a second. I was still waiting for my menu. I looked at the back of the
waitress and then him, and shook my head like I was losing my mind, “Did you
seriously just order for me?”

He folded his arms and
tilted his head, licking his lips. He didn’t answer.

I leaned in, “Are you
insane? Who just orders a stranger food?”

He blinked his long,
dark lashes at me flatly,
“My name is Lochlan Barlow.
I’m from Tennessee. I’m a Scorpio and I don’t really like long walks on the
beach or romantic movies or anything like that. I like to shoot pool, hang with
my friends and drink beer.” His voice dropped, “You wanna know a secret? I find
gardening therapeutic, and chess with my grandpa.”

I had nothing. He was
clearly insane and a sarcastic, entitled asshole to boot.

He waited for me to
respond but I had nothing, so I looked around the restaurant—if you could
call it that. I smiled at the waitress when she brought the beers, “Thank you.”
She ignored me and grinned at him, “You aren’t really Lochlan Barlow from Thin
Ice are you?”

He nodded his head
once, “I am.” He said it like he might toss his fohawk about any second. She
looked like she might pay him to do it. Thin Ice? I racked my brain but I
didn’t know that. Was it a show? Was he a movie star? He looked like one.

Her eyes widened, like
she was going to have a heart attack. She gushed, sliding a napkin at him, “Can
you sign this?” Her voice was a squeak.

He chuckled, “What’s
your name, darlin’?” He was very Tennessee when he said darling.

She
bat
her chunky, black lashes at him, “Darla.”

He gave her a subtle
smile; it was sweet and sexy as hell. “Darla, that’s pretty darn close to
darling.” She giggled again. I watched in horror. But he took the pen and
scrawled some kind of chicken scratch on the napkin.

I drank my beer,
shaking my head slowly at the spectacle. His cocky, shit attitude was somehow
appealing to this woman for whatever Thin Ice was. She hugged it to her chest
and ran to the back of the restaurant.

His charm shut off
when he looked at me. I could see a difference in the way he spoke to me and
looked at me, compared to her. He nodded, “What’s your deal?” He was almost
rude to me.

I shook my head. I was
completely confused, gripping my beer for fear I would throw it in his face.

He flashed me a
sarcastic smile and leaned forward, “This is not going well, I mean, as far as
first dates go. You seem really tense. Maybe we should have a couple shots
first.” He waved the waitress back over.

“Two shots of Jack.
Make `em doubles.”

She winked at him. I
had thought he was being charming to me, but after seeing him lay it on thick,
I realized the way he was with me was his natural state. With her, he seemed to
be trying at it.

My mouth was hanging
open, stuck on his comment, “This isn’t a date and I don’t drink shots. Look at
that girl two booths over; she’s watching you like she hopes you might show up
any second on her plate. She literally spotted you and then put lipstick on.
You buy her shots and I guarantee, they’ll go farther than they will with me.”

He gave me a funny
look, “I bet I can get farther than you think.”

Arrogant bastard.

I tried to stand but
he grabbed me, “Don’t leave.” The way he said it made me sit, like I didn’t
want to. It was real. He was being genuine. The charm and arrogance were shut
off. He had the strangest effect on women, me included. He was like our own
brand of kryptonite.

I sat back down and
watched as he looked over his shoulder at the girls in the booth. He gave them
a wave and turned back to me, as if none of it had happened, “You’ll drink
these shots. You’ll like it, trust me.” He ordered for me, made me stay, and
now was going to force-feed me shots.

I almost
stayed,
just to see what weird thing he was going to do
next.
His eyes were so blue suddenly
,
they took my breath away
.

“Kryptonite,” I
muttered.

He gave me a weird
look. The server delivered the amber liquid shots. Instantly, my skin crawled.

He lifted his.

I frowned, “I’m lost.
You want me to drink with you, and hang with you, and we’re vying for the same
apartment? I don’t mean to be rude, but I really think you should go drink with
those girls over there. I don’t want to drink. I’m being polite drinking this
beer because you ordered it, and it’s not the server’s fault you’re an
overly-confident
piece of work. I don’t like to drink, but
if I do, I drink red wine.”

He held the glass up,
completely ignoring me, “Have a shot, Erin. It ain’t gonna kill you.” He said
it keeeel with a laugh and a smile that melted a tiny bit of my hard exterior.
He wasn’t going to relent. His eyes made me feel something I didn’t want to. He
was force-feeding me my feelings too.
Except dislike.
I couldn’t dislike him. He could have sold me a shit
popsicle
,
and I would have sworn it was my favorite flavor.

I relented after he
didn’t stop holding his in the air. I lifted the other shot, skipped clanking
it against his, and drank it back.

I shuddered, making
him laugh, “See? That was easy. Now drink the beer. Jack makes it taste better.
Maybe it’s not red wine, princess, but it’s better than just straight draft
beer.”

His mocking tone was
driving me insane. I slammed the glass down, “My name is Erin Benson. I’m
starting school in a couple weeks. I’m studying law; obviously, I want to be
lawyer. I’m from North Dakota. I am a Gemini and I do like long walks and
romantic movies, but I prefer books. I like men who treat women with respect
and have more than two brain cells making desperate attempts at a fire in their
thick heads. I don’t like being called princess, and I hate people who presume
to do things for me, like they know me better than I know myself.”

He winked and smiled,
“Now, how hard was that?”

He was insufferable. I
swallowed some beer and nodded, “You want to steal my house,
it
was hard. I don’t want to talk to you. I want to scream at you but that’s the
wrong response. That’s not civil.”

He pointed at me,
“It’s mine and I’ll tell you what, they find one just as nice, similar area and
same rent, I will be the one to move out. Until then, we make the best of this
and not be shitty to each other or mace anyone.
Unless it’s a
girl who won’t leave in the morning.
You can mace them.” He offered me
one of his big hands, “Deal? And I’m not kidding, if I end up with some clingy
broad, I hope you’ll go as hard as you did today. Maybe even a little extra.”