After Hours (InterMix)(47)
“I’m not such a monster,” Kelly said mildly. “And I don’t want some little sunshiny housewife, vacuuming in heels, packing my lunch, starching my shirts and making cheerful small talk. Where’s the fight in that?”
“Who, then?”
He shrugged and took a deep drink. “I dunno. If I meet her, I’ll know.”
“And you won’t take no for an answer, until you’ve shuttled her down the aisle.”
“I might never meet her, and that’s okay, too. What about you? Who’s your Mr. Right?”
It occurred to me then that Kelly and I were friends. Actual friends who were genuinely interested in each other’s lives. A perfectly platonic scene . . . if not for the fact that we wanted desperately to f*ck each other.
“My Mr. Right . . . I only know what kinds of guys I don’t want, so far.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Guys like me, you said. Your sister’s type.”
“You’re not so bad. I was wrong, assuming you had anything in common with her ex aside from totally superficial stuff.”
“He’s the one who gave you that bruise?” Kelly asked, pausing with the tennis ball in his hand, Sadie antsy with mounting impatience for the next hunt.
“Yeah. He’s a real shithead. You . . . You’re kind of an ass, but you know it. He’s just a big, spoiled toddler with a loud truck and a drinking problem. And absolutely no self-awareness. No respect for anyone else’s needs or feelings. I don’t think it registers, that other people even have feelings.”
“Sounds like a sociopath.”
“Just a dumb kid who never had to mature past the age of eight.”
Sadie whined.
“Even worse. Few things out there more dangerous than a bored kid who thinks he’s a man, just ’cause he’s jacked up on testosterone. If he can’t find something to f*ck, he’ll find something to f*ck with.”
I nodded and sipped my beer, watching as the dog finally got her wish and went rocketing off toward the far fence after the ball.
“Where’s this man-child live?” he asked.
I shot him a glare, not so easily tricked.
“What’s his name?”
“I’m not tossing out any balls for you to chase, Kelly. Suppress your inner pit bull.”
“Tell me who he is, and I promise he won’t be bothering your sister anytime soon.”
I sighed. “You make it sound so simple.”
“It is simple.”
“This is my nephew’s dad. He’s probably going to stay in my sister’s life, whether I like it or not. And I don’t need him taking out his bruised ego on her, after your threats or beatings or whatever wear off.”
“Toddlers’ll keep throwing tantrums until somebody shows them they don’t always get their way.”
I stared out over the lawn, not really feeling like talking about Amber and Marco anymore. “That’s funny.” I shot Kelly a little smile, ready for the flirtation to begin, and for him to do what he promised—take me out of my head for a couple days. “I thought you were all in favor of a guy getting his way.”
“I’m in favor of me getting my way. There’s a major difference.”
I shifted my chair to face Kelly more directly, pushing off my shoes so I could rest my bare feet on his knee. He set down his beer and fiddled with my toes with his damp, cold fingers. Better those than the dog-spitty ones. We stared at each other for a long moment, the exchange as loaded as it was companionable and easy.
“Am I making you dinner?” I asked, curious about exactly how all-encompassing my role as his servant might be.
He shook his head. “I’ll grill. You can make the salad, if you want. But what I’ve got in mind for you . . . Don’t picture dusting or dishes.”
“No scrubbing your floors wearing a kerchief, then?”
“Nah. Though you’ll probably spend some time on your knees.” He smirked and took a deep pull of his beer.
“Charming.”
He set the bottle down and handed me the mangy ball that Sadie had deposited at his feet. I accepted it with a grossed-out face, but chucked it all the same. She shot across the grass, and brought it back to me. I tossed it again, thinking that despite my being the obedient one for the next couple days, Kelly was my pit bull, poised to protect and attack, at my command. One word from me, and Marco might wake up in the hospital with far worse than a bitten tongue.