My Side (9 page)

I nodded again and
slipped into the bathroom.

I knelt at the toilet,
realizing he’d ran as fast as he could to come and make sure I was safe.

The thought lasted
seconds, before the wine came back with vengeance.

The New Deal, AKA playing house

I woke with a start
and a gasp. My head spun. I moaned, wincing at the bad feelings covering me. I
was on my bed. I didn’t remember much. I was still in my lacy Brazilian-butt
underwear and push-up bra. I pulled it off and pulled on a tee shirt and some
sweats. It was cool in the room. There was a note, a glass, and a small carton
of something on my bedside table.

‘Princess,

Drink this and take these pills and come wake me up.

Hurry up.

L’

I shuddered, looking
at the carton. It was coconut water. I popped the pills in my mouth and poured
the murky-looking liquid into the glass and drank it back. It wasn’t so bad.
Not as coconut flavored as I imagined it would be.

I left the room to see
him passed out, in his clothes still, on the couch.

I tiptoed to the
kitchen. Flashbacks of me in my underwear were trying to get through the
barrier in my brain. I pushed them away.

I poured a glass of
water.

“Morning.”

I looked back at him,
“Hey.”

He grinned, “How are
you?”

I
shook my head
,
“Stop shouting.”

He nodded, “I
suspected.” He came and grabbed my hand, pulling me to the front door. He
grabbed my flip-flops from the organized shelf next to the door and continued
to walk.

“I don’t want to go.
Where are we going?”

He scooped me up into
his arms, “Somewhere necessary.”

He carried me down the
stairs like I weighed nothing. “Put me down.”

He shook his head,
“No, your drunk ass is gonna go too slow and I’m starving.”

I panicked a little,
mostly because I had no energy, “Loch, I can’t leave the house like this.”

He grinned, “I like it
when you accidentally call me Loch.” He always ignored the things he didn’t
want to hear.

When we got to the
car, he opened the door and placed me inside. I sat inside and got my bearings.
He climbed in, grinning, “You don’t drink, do you?” He passed me my shoes. I
slipped them on, trying not to heave.

My throat was burning
from the puking and my head was spinning, “No. I never pass the two-glass
rule.”

He didn’t say anything
else, thank God, until we got to a small mom-and-pop establishment. I made a
face but he pointed a finger, “Trust me?”

I looked at him and
with all my might I tried to say no, but I didn’t. The nod was almost
involuntary. I opened the car door and he was there, holding a hand out for me.

I recoiled, “You’re
being sweet to try to trick me into losing the apartment.

He shook his head,
“Not today, I swear.”

His blue eyes
sparkled. He didn’t even know he was doing it. I groaned and let him pull me
from the car. I burped. He gave me a worried look. I laughed, “There’s nothing
left. I got it all out last night.”

He placed my hand on
his arm and closed the door, “Okay, but if you throw up on me, I might just let
you win.”

I laughed, “I’ll
remember that.”

When we walked inside,
he pulled me to a booth. It sounded like I was squeaking against rubber, when I
sat. I looked around, frowning, “What is this dump? Why do you always eat in
seedy, shitty places? Is that guy smoking?”

He chuckled, “Trust
me.”

I gave him a look,
“It’s illegal to smoke in a restaurant. He’s endangering all of our health,
including the servers and cooks. It’s a major lawsuit waiting to happen.”

He gave me a dead,
blank stare and looked back at the guy smoking, “Yo!” The man looked over. He
was the size of a Honda Civic with tattoos and a huge beard. He looked like a
biker, but not the hot kind. Not the kind in the novels I liked to read.

Lochlan nodded, “You
wanna put that out. She’s a pain in the ass about smoke, so if you don’t put it
out, she doesn’t put out. I
ain’t
getting any, if
she’s mad when we leave here. Help a guy out.”

The guy gave him a
look and laughed. He winked a glossy eye
at me and ground the
smoke into the bar,
“Better be extra nice to him later.” He spoke with a
gravelly voice. The waitress smacked him in the arm and wiped up the ashes.

My face was on fire. I
looked down at my sticky, plastic menu, “I can’t believe you just said that.”

He snatched the
plastic menu, ignoring my annoyance, “You don’t need that.”

I looked up, about to
snap and smack him like the waitress had done to the biker with the manners.

A
gum-chewing, hair-twirling brunette with her own
biker sort of look to her and too much cleavage, stepped in front of our booth.
She snapped her gum at me. I glowered at Lochlan.

He chuckled and
ordered, “We’ll have two number threes and non-stop coffee. Over medium.”

She winked a false
eyelash at him.

I shuddered as she
left, “Who wears false lashes at nine in the morning?”

He smiled
sardonically, “Oh, you think we’re here for small talk?” He leaned forward,
“No, princess. You need to tell me what’s going on.”

My stomach started to
hurt again, “I hate it when you order for me. I can order my own food.”

He pointed, “Start
talking and not about food. Unless that’s why you carry mace everywhere you
go.”

My fingers left the
table, brushing against the mace in my pocket. It was as natural as putting
deodorant on.

I sighed, “It’s
nothing, it’s just an ex-boyfriend and he’s back in North Dakota. No big deal.”

His hands slid across
the table, encompassing my left hand with warmth, like a cocoon, “Did he hurt
you?”

I stared at the
plastic table, unable to breathe, “Not… not really.” I felt detached from it,
“He just wouldn’t leave me alone.”

He lifted my chin to
look into his
intensely-dark
blue eyes, “Are you
scared he’s going to come for you?”

I shook my head, “No.”

His look softened,
“Tell me the story.”

I nodded hypnotically,
still seeing him the way I had the night before. The words left my lips, like I
was in a trance, “I lived in dorms at UND. My parents are in Grand Forks but I
wanted the full college experience. I dated a guy first semester. We’d known
each other for years; we were both in track together in middle school. One
month into the relationship, he proposed.”

He made a face.

It made me laugh,
“Right. Who does that?”

He winked, “Britney
Spears’ boyfriends.”

A smile crossed my
lips, relaxing me, “Right, but I don’t have millions of dollars or her sex
appeal.” He opened his mouth but I put a hand up, “I wasn’t fishing for a
compliment.” I ran my fingers through my hair, realizing how huge it actually
was. “Anyway, I broke it off because he freaked me out. It was my third
boyfriend who sucked. My first one, in tenth grade, cheated on me the entire
time. My second one, in twelfth grade, was a drug addict and stole my mom’s
tennis bracelet because his parents cut him off.”

He snorted. I flashed
him a look. He nodded “Continue.”

I sighed, “I broke up
with him and his dad started phoning me. They were threatening me, saying I had
to get back together with him. He was showing up at my classes. It was bad. So
I recorded the calls and got a restraining order. He and his family weren’t
allowed on the campus anymore. I moved back home with my parents and finished
my degree.”

His eyes narrowed,
“Now, for the part you’re not telling me.”

I sneered, “That’s
it.”

He shook his head, “I
can tell you’re lying.”

My throat was
dry,
thankfully the waitress brought the coffees. I dumped
cream in and swirled it. The white slowly dissolved in a twirling pattern,
until it blended completely.

“I need to know.”

“Okay,” I nodded. “He
attacked me one night. It was about five months after the ‘Do Not Contact’
order was in place. He hit me over the head with something and pulled me down
between two buildings. He was shaking me and hitting me, when a girl came. She
was walking by, minding her own business.” This was the part of the story that
felt like a demon crawling around inside of me with sharp talons. I took a
breath and a sip of coffee. “She attacked him. I think I blacked out but when I
came too, he was beating her. She had tried to help me, but he turned on her. I
grabbed a huge rock and smashed him in the head with it. We called the police
and cried holding each other. It was insanely frightening.”

His hands slipped over
mine again. They trembled a bit, “Were you guys badly hurt?”

I nodded once. “Her,
more so than me. She ended up so bruised and beaten. I was better off than her.
I visited her in the hospital
,
she
looked so bad
. I felt sick.”

“If she hadn’t come
along…”

“Yup.” The word came
out strong. I knew it was my self-defense kicking in, shutting down the fear I
was remembering.

“Where is he now?” The
question was growled.

I pulled my hand back
and drank with my left hand. My right needed to touch the mace. “Prison.”

“Does he know you’re
here?”

I shook my head, “No.”
I looked up, “He’s in jail for another year. This is my fresh start.”

I hated the look on
his face.

Our plates were
dropped down in front of us. I looked at the food and laughed, “Eggs Benedict?”

 
My favorite food ever… Could he have
guessed that?

He nodded, “It’s my
favorite. This place makes their own hollandaise and the home fries are dirty
good.”

I smiled at the surly
waitress, “Thanks.”

She cocked an eyebrow
and left.

The first bite was
amazing. My poor stomach wasn’t sure though. I ate slowly, in case it was going
to come back up, which resulted in him stealing my home fries.

He switched off the
weird, tense look and chatted between bites, “My mom always made eggs Benedict
for Christmas, Easter, and Thanksgiving. It’s the only time we were allowed to
have it. My dad has cholesterol issues.”

I laughed, “My dad is
the opposite. He would never eat something like this. He runs marathons. That’s
how I picked Boston. We came here in 2008 for him to run the marathon, before
the divorce.”

He cocked an eyebrow,
“Your parents are divorced?”

I nodded, “Thank God.”

He winced, “Yikes.”

“Yup.” My strong
yup
was back in full force.

“My parents are still
together but they’ve had a couple close calls.”

I took a huge bite and
moaned, “How do you find these places?”

He laughed, “Just say
it—I was right, and this is the best shit you have ever eaten?”

I nodded, “You were
right. This is exactly what I needed.”

He laughed, “I have
had a lot of hangovers in my day.”

I closed my eyes,
chewing and enjoying the sound of his voice and the taste in my mouth.

“Now that you’re all
blissful and happy, there’s something I want to talk to you about.”

I opened my eyes,
“What?”

He drank a huge sip of
coffee, “I want to stay together. Forget the
bet,
forget the moving out, and apartment hunting. Just be roomies.”

His proposal burned my
insides. I thought for a second and nodded, “Okay.” He made me feel safe. As
much as it burned me, I liked it.

“It’ll be cheaper for
you to share the rent, and I won’t have to worry that you’re safe.” His voice
dropped down a bit.

My eye twitched, “You
would worry about me?” I tried to sound sarcastic, but it didn’t happen.

He nodded, “Yup.
Besides, I am in talks right now with the band, and an agent, and some serious
contracts. So if I have to tour, it’s better if I have someone at the house for
me.” He stole my strong
yup
, and I knew what we were
both talking about. It was the end of the flirting and the fun. I felt like I
could cry any second. He was asking me to be his friend. I was being
friend-zoned.

I wanted that, didn’t
I?

I wanted to go to
school and become a successful lawyer, and be independent. He was a sleazy
singer. He was going to be crazy famous. We would never fit.

I wanted that, didn’t
I? My heart tried to negotiate, but my brain shut it down. “So we’ll be
roomies?” The words felt dirty and wrong, but I made myself smile.