The Rental (6 page)

I cleared my thoughts and said, “Oh, thanks, but I’m doing fine.”

“You’re really doing okay and all?”

I imagined I was reading from my computer screen where I saved my script. I looked down and hid a sad expression, then reeled off, “The first few months were terrible, but Mum and I have been so busy getting on with things, we haven’t had time to let it get to us. We have each other and we’re moving forward.”

Moving forward, eek!
I thought. I ought to edit that. I sounded like a politician.

“Oh, well. Sounds like the best it can be.”

“It is,” I said, not a beat after he finished.

He quirked an eyebrow. He noticed my rigidness and at first, neither of us said anything, but then Rick went ahead and announced the big fat elephant in the room. “I told Justin to give up all the harassing. What he was doing was too far,” Rick said. “Way too far.”

“What made him stop?”

Rick looked away, flushed. Justin moved on—was it that? Was it with Cara? Why had he tried so hard for so long, and caused so much pain, pestering and scaring me, if he wanted her all that time? I hoped it was a random girl I had never met.

“For the record, I hardly spend time with him. I know it doesn’t excuse what he did, but—”

“Uh, Rick?”

He looked up.

“I can’t talk about all that, okay?” I said. “I’m sorry for being rude, but there are some things about me that have changed. And I’d appreciate it if you didn’t bring that up again.”

He rubbed his forehead into his fist. “Ugh, sorry.”

Why was I being a bitch after his concern? I said, “There was one good thing about your party.”

“You liked them, ‘ey?” Rick winked, lightening the mood.

I spluttered on a chuckle. “I did, but I wasn’t going there.”

“No?”

I looked at him then. Really looked. I saw deep and dark pools of care in those brown eyes. His jaw was clean-shaven, and it took everything in my self-control to stop myself from reaching out to smooth my hand over it. A lot had changed, but not our dynamics. He still eyed me intently, passionately, and stood close in a way that felt like he was protecting his grounds. It was comforting to have all that back. Comfort was something I hadn’t had since that night. No best friend to share my thoughts with and no boyfriend to make me feel loved. Just a Mum who tried to stay afloat who I’d pushed away without realising.

I was fine with the two former things. I was stronger now. But, just for a few seconds, I stared back into Rick’s eyes and wondered what it’d be like to not say anything, and if I held his hand. Just once. It was stupid and weak, but maybe I’d feel better if I could finally touch him. Guilt free.

Maybe it’d even feel good to be together with Rick.

What the hell are you thinking?
And where the hell had these feelings come from?

I hadn’t felt the spike of adrenaline since that night, or the heat between my legs, or the itch to bring a smile on my face, but Rick, right then in the corner of my old workplace, made me feel it all. How could the presence of one guy in one moment make my iron heart bleed red, my body crave such primal needs?

I remembered he was still waiting and promised myself I would do better to focus when talking. “I meant you, about the party. I don’t have anyone in my life these days besides Mum and my brother, Robert. And I rarely see him anyway. It’s nice I ran into you. Thanks for what you did. It wasn’t much, but to me, sharing that moment with you made it less of a burden. And holding me like that and going out to face them? I just …” I couldn’t think, less form words to describe what I meant. I settled for, “Thank you.”

He half-smiled and touched my upper arm. Rick got what I was feeling and at the least, it was enough. “So,” he asked, “What was with the frown? Did you get rejected back there?”

He pointed to the bar, and I couldn’t help but erupt in laughter. I thought about how not funny my situation was and laughed my way into a keeled-over, hands-on-thighs chuckle. Everything was
so
not funny I couldn’t help but make light of it. “Well, I was a part-time receptionist, lifeguard, waitress, and bartender as of an hour ago. Now, I’m only a lifeguard and receptionist. Smiths Leisure Centre down my way is fine, but not with the little hours I get.”

“Ouch.” He frowned. “Sounds like that wasn’t according to your plan.”

“Absolutely not. After tomorrow, I’ll be earning less than half of what I was and with bills that Mum and I could barely keep up with before. I’ll look for jobs, but I’ll be lucky to get one. I can’t afford to stop working for days let alone all that time.” I sighed. “Let’s change topic again. I literally just got laid off when I ran into you. I don’t have enough money to get drunk, can’t get drunk because I need to drive home, but want to get hammered, so for my sanity, let’s move
riiight
along.”

Rick laughed, and the tendons in his neck popped out as he tipped his head back. His jaw was sharp, highlighted by being held high. It was only his neck but seemed far more intimate angled the way it was.

My tongue moved back and forth behind my lips in want, and the centre of my chest fluttered to life harder when around Rick Delaney. That flutter became faster filling my chest to the degree breathing became secondary.

Some things could be severed by death, but not few infinites. Rick seemed to have felt that enormous, but invisible change, too. It was the only reasoning, I surmised as he closed the gap and wound his hand around my back, feathery and gentle. The underhand connection between us, brushed away by what was forbidden, solidified. In that moment, I felt something so physical the tips of my ears flamed and heat poured into my chest. Like he was pouring himself into me. When his fingers pressed into my skin, I obeyed and came to him, burying my face into his chest.

Being held by him was everything. It was the high when I smoked something I shouldn’t have, the come-down when the happiness wore away, and the dreams for more of it for every night as long as I could foresee. Rick was my personalised antidote, and I took from him the medicine every fibre of my being craved, hoping no one else had taken his heart from me yet.

“Vee,” he breathed into my hair, unfurling a blanket of hope down my neck.

I mumbled and rubbed my cheek further into him. I’d climb inside and never return if I could.

People passed and the bell chimed with their comings and goings. The scent of bourbons and sweet liquors hung nearby in the air around us, and I could hear his heart beating far clearer than I could my own voice. It didn’t matter a dime to me, but I had things to say to him even if being held by him was enough for now.

I leant up so my lips brushed his earlobe. “Want to get out of here?”

He pulled me away with his fingers wrapped almost all the way around my upper arms and stared hard, pulling his lips tightly together. “Come on.”

As I stepped outdoors, the wind bit at my exposed chest, arms, and legs. It wasn’t that cold when I checked the forecast before my shift. So much so, I thought I’d be safe without a cardigan. I rubbed my hands on either arm, regretting my decision. Either weather was cooler this year than it was the same time last year or I had withered away, in both mind and body.

Rick’s face seemed hardened as I looked at him now. He bit the inside of his lip and searched my face. “I’m actually off to work. Bodyguard,” he said, and then went on to explain some more. “I was going to use the bathroom, but I suddenly don’t need to go anymore.” A small smile. “I wish I could,” he added, softer, and it felt like it blew away with the wind into oblivion of the night.

Right then, my hope drained and fell into a puddle at my feet. I felt hollow inside. I misread him. It was the chilliest feeling I’d had since—I caught myself before I went there. “Oh. Okay, then.”

“I’d like your number,” Rick said, chin dropped meekly as if he felt awkward asking for it. As if he really
did
have to work.

I said ‘hi’ and texted it to the number he ran off. He texted me back, ‘Hi yourself,’ and then pocketed it in his coat.

“I’m parked down Little Lonsdale. Where about are you?”

I shivered and told him it seemed like I was parked in the same complex as he was, hoping I’d get to walk with him at least.

“Are you cold?” he said, and then pausing barely enough to take a breath before he answered his own question. “You are. Here.” He shrugged out of his coat and fanned it over my shoulders. My mouth wouldn’t quit beaming back at him, so I thanked him with a full row of teeth and lowered my nose to my shoulder to sniff it in the split second he had walked on. It smelt the same as he did in the laundry room from his party.

The parking lot was a block up, so we didn’t get to talk much in those couple of minutes. Plus, it was hard when we were both too focused on walking through the crowd while we actually had our minds on our hands—hands that found each other’s discreetly, as if we’d done it by accident.

At my car, he looked at our linked hands for the first time and acknowledged it with a smile that grew from a mere twitch to the brightest thing I’d seen all week. We parted, dodging left and right, and in the end, leaving without a kiss at all.

I had to remind myself I truly had Rick Delaney’s number as I unlocked my car, sitting in my seat as I turned the car on, and as I belted up. As I realised I didn’t need to turn the heater on because I had a warm coat.

But it was the crushing seatbelt buckle against my hip that made me stop dreaming of his number. I had his coat and his phone. I went to call him to tell him so, and then slapped my forehead with my hand at the very stupidity of my dazed thoughts.

I did a lap of the parking lot and found him exiting right at the other end of the exit strip. I gunned it down and followed him out, no idea where I was going except where he was. It was almost midnight now, and taxis and cars were everywhere at this hour. Truth be told, my heart wasn’t into clubbing solo anyway. Especially not now since I’d found him again.

I only lost him once, and then hurried to catch an amber light and found the glow of his taillights ahead. We drove for a couple of minutes through traffic, and I was almost going to turn around when he turned down a dark side street, one I’d never been down before.

Hope surged. I turned also.

He slowed, pulling into a driveway blocked by tall, black iron gates that led to a fat building with neon lights against the brick exterior, reading ‘The Rental.’

I didn’t know what company The Rental was or what type of bodyguard work he did, but assumed he could need his coat and mobile. I watched him swipe a card along the flashing black box. The gates opened and he rolled through to the secured parking lot out the back while I parked by the kerb and locked my car.

Rick stepped out of his car and looked around with curious eyes, patting down his body. He obviously realised he’d left his things with me. I smiled and called out, waving. There were lights in the parking lot. It was dark, but the sparse lighting lit me up enough that he’d clearly see me waving.

“Vee,” he choked on my name, and I could see his face pale under the sparse light like someone had drawn a curtain of fear.

“I’ve just got your coat and mobile,” I said. “Sorry if I scared you.”

He didn’t acknowledge any of what I said, so I approached the gates and held my arm out, the one with his mobile in the coat pocket and the garment draped over it. He came over and swiped me through, making the black gates groan open for my entrance.

I got a chance to take in the building as I approached him. It had three levels and ran wide. It would have taken up four or five times the space of the building next door, although I hadn’t taken notice of it on the main street, so I wasn’t sure. Inside, the rooms had soft yellow glows that escaped from the sides of the blinds, and as I reached Rick, I even heard a sensual, slow beat, unlike any music I’d heard in retail stores or clubs. It was something else entirely.

I’d just met Rick’s sharp gaze as I saw the text beneath the bright neon lights twisted to read the name of the company, The Rental. It said, ‘professional, polite, and passionate company’ and like the ferocity in Rick’s glare, a similar darkness cut right through my chest and sliced me down the middle. I was part confused and part terrified of what he’d say.

I was not meant to follow him here.

I was not meant to know he worked here.

But I did, and even in that passing moment, I felt it deep in my gut like the hot sensation of alcohol sliding to the bottom of my belly.

Nothing would be the same now.

“Maybe you should come with me inside to hand those over.” He gritted his teeth and ran his hand down his messed brown hair. His glare deferred mine, but his one word response was clear. “Fuck.”

6

T
HE
R
ENTAL SMELT
of sin. I couldn’t describe the atmosphere any other way.

Rick took me down a long hallway filled with that same sensual, wordless music from small speakers high on the white walls. He kept a faster pace than I did no matter how swiftly I moved my legs, and when we reached a door, and he stopped, I nearly didn’t stop myself in time.

Inside, it was decked out with supplies to make even a model cry. There were freestanding racks of dresses—silky, sequined, gauze, knitted, slashed, strapless, mini, and more. On the other side were scarves, skirts, tops, and shoes. There were accessories and wigs in another section. Rick guided me to a sofa along the wall, bold white in colour and wide like those I’d only seen on TV ads.

“Thanks,” he said. He took the coat from me that I had forgotten about. His hands lingered on mine, and his fingers curved against the softest part, brushing comforting strokes.

I peered up to his eyes. He was already taking me in. My breathing hitched at the sight of his trembling lips—like he wanted forgiveness—and his eyes that told me he wanted me in his arms.

“Don’t ask the questions you don’t want the answers too, Genevieve,” he warned. Using my full name felt formal, exactly like Dad when he got impressively mad at me.