anger at how unresponsive I am.
I stare into his eyes, and he studies me hard.
Hayes is a smart guy, but he doesn’t get why I don’t want him. I could end the
suspense and explain why he and I can’t work. I don’t though.
The words are too difficult, and I’m too weak to
face reality yet. I wanted something amazing to happen between Hayes and me.
Now I realize it never will.
EIGHTEEN - HAYES
C andy claims a bad day is why her usual loud mouth
has turned silent on me. She’s lying, of course. Her bad day stretches into a
second one and then a third. When I kiss her, my lips don’t meet resistance as
much as indifference. Worse is how she doesn’t smile anymore. She refuses to
even fucking look at me.
In the past, Candy talked so much and answered me
so openly that I believed I knew her. I don’t know shit.
She sits in the next room, working at her desk, and
I don’t know why she’s turned cold. I run through possibilities, but none make
sense. There’s no other man to steal away her affections. I’d know if anyone so
much as flirted with her.
One minute, Candy was smiling and teasing me. Then
she was pissed. Now I’m pissed. I asked why she was upset, and she fucking
lied. I’m not asking again. She’s a great assistant, and I care whether
she lives or dies. She matters to me, but I won’t beg. Not for her. Not for
anyone.
My life feels too quiet since she turned cold. In
fact, I’m desperate enough for a break from the quiet that I invite Moot to my
house to watch a football game. Friendship isn’t something I enjoy, but I’ll
pretend if it gets my mind off Candy.
“What the hell?” Moot asks, looking at the thank
you cards on my fridge. “Do you have kids I don’t know about?”
I study the colorful pictures and try not to let
Moot’s question piss me off. Talking about Candy does not in any way keep me
from thinking about her.
“Those belong to my assistant’s kids.”
“Candy?”
“Yeah, that would be her name.”
“Ah, problems in paradise, huh?” Moot asks, opening
the fridge to get himself a beer.
“She does good work in the office.”
Grinning, Moot takes his beer to the adjoining
family room. He reclines in a chair and sighs.
“I forgot how great leather chairs feel.”
I sit on the couch next to Nightmare, who doesn’t
even stir. “I’d be lying if I said I didn’t hate having someone in my house.”
“Why invite me?” Moot asks, leaning back as his
legs go up.
“You were loyal. Few people are. Allowing you into
my house is my way of putting you above other people.”
Moot smirks. “I do feel above other people, so your
gesture is working.”
“Asshole,” I mutter.
We silently watch the pre-game until Moot glances
at me. “Wilburn women are tricky. Honey liked me until she didn’t. I never saw
it coming. You can’t take it personal, man.”
“I’m not taking anything in any way. Stop talking.”
“Don’t be like that. Sharing your feelings is
healthy.” I glare at him, and Moot laughs. “They taught us about feelings in prison.
It was a group thing. I got to see evil fuckers cry about how their daddies
never hugged them. Very enlightening.”
“Sounds awful.”
“It was a way to waste a few hours. In prison, time
is one of the biggest fucking obstacles. It was like school. Time frigging
crawled.”
I smile at his comment, but nothing shakes the funk
Candy’s bitchiness gave me. I wonder if she even knows how she’s messed up my
life. Hell, does she even fucking care?
“I liked Honey,” Moot says, startling me from my
thoughts. “I never dated many sweet women. Once when I got in a fight, Honey
put Band-Aids on my face.”
Moot laughs at the memory. He’s happy about
reminiscing, but I suddenly see us as two lonely men approaching middle age.
Never before did I feel my life lacked a single fucking thing. Before Candy, I
was happy. Moot should be happy to be free. Instead, we waste time thinking
about two women out of
I stare into his eyes, and he studies me hard.
Hayes is a smart guy, but he doesn’t get why I don’t want him. I could end the
suspense and explain why he and I can’t work. I don’t though.
The words are too difficult, and I’m too weak to
face reality yet. I wanted something amazing to happen between Hayes and me.
Now I realize it never will.
EIGHTEEN - HAYES
C andy claims a bad day is why her usual loud mouth
has turned silent on me. She’s lying, of course. Her bad day stretches into a
second one and then a third. When I kiss her, my lips don’t meet resistance as
much as indifference. Worse is how she doesn’t smile anymore. She refuses to
even fucking look at me.
In the past, Candy talked so much and answered me
so openly that I believed I knew her. I don’t know shit.
She sits in the next room, working at her desk, and
I don’t know why she’s turned cold. I run through possibilities, but none make
sense. There’s no other man to steal away her affections. I’d know if anyone so
much as flirted with her.
One minute, Candy was smiling and teasing me. Then
she was pissed. Now I’m pissed. I asked why she was upset, and she fucking
lied. I’m not asking again. She’s a great assistant, and I care whether
she lives or dies. She matters to me, but I won’t beg. Not for her. Not for
anyone.
My life feels too quiet since she turned cold. In
fact, I’m desperate enough for a break from the quiet that I invite Moot to my
house to watch a football game. Friendship isn’t something I enjoy, but I’ll
pretend if it gets my mind off Candy.
“What the hell?” Moot asks, looking at the thank
you cards on my fridge. “Do you have kids I don’t know about?”
I study the colorful pictures and try not to let
Moot’s question piss me off. Talking about Candy does not in any way keep me
from thinking about her.
“Those belong to my assistant’s kids.”
“Candy?”
“Yeah, that would be her name.”
“Ah, problems in paradise, huh?” Moot asks, opening
the fridge to get himself a beer.
“She does good work in the office.”
Grinning, Moot takes his beer to the adjoining
family room. He reclines in a chair and sighs.
“I forgot how great leather chairs feel.”
I sit on the couch next to Nightmare, who doesn’t
even stir. “I’d be lying if I said I didn’t hate having someone in my house.”
“Why invite me?” Moot asks, leaning back as his
legs go up.
“You were loyal. Few people are. Allowing you into
my house is my way of putting you above other people.”
Moot smirks. “I do feel above other people, so your
gesture is working.”
“Asshole,” I mutter.
We silently watch the pre-game until Moot glances
at me. “Wilburn women are tricky. Honey liked me until she didn’t. I never saw
it coming. You can’t take it personal, man.”
“I’m not taking anything in any way. Stop talking.”
“Don’t be like that. Sharing your feelings is
healthy.” I glare at him, and Moot laughs. “They taught us about feelings in prison.
It was a group thing. I got to see evil fuckers cry about how their daddies
never hugged them. Very enlightening.”
“Sounds awful.”
“It was a way to waste a few hours. In prison, time
is one of the biggest fucking obstacles. It was like school. Time frigging
crawled.”
I smile at his comment, but nothing shakes the funk
Candy’s bitchiness gave me. I wonder if she even knows how she’s messed up my
life. Hell, does she even fucking care?
“I liked Honey,” Moot says, startling me from my
thoughts. “I never dated many sweet women. Once when I got in a fight, Honey
put Band-Aids on my face.”
Moot laughs at the memory. He’s happy about
reminiscing, but I suddenly see us as two lonely men approaching middle age.
Never before did I feel my life lacked a single fucking thing. Before Candy, I
was happy. Moot should be happy to be free. Instead, we waste time thinking
about two women out of
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