Chaos and Control(13)

“What is my fascination with this guy?” I say out loud.

A few minutes later I hear the beginnings of Smashing Pumpkin’s “Cherub Rock” filtering through the wall and can’t help the wide grin that takes over my face.





Even with her eyes on me

Today it is the seat belt

My nemesis du jour

For most, a simple snap into place And done

For me, a mechanical device

That is bound to fail

Metal buckle pieced together

With nylon straps of inadequacy Even with her eyes on me

I can’t shake free that

The click wasn’t perfect

A tiny sound with resounding effects I test with a tug but

The weight feels faulty in my hand Every bit of strength I possess is stolen By embarrassment and the inability to let go I know all the probabilities

I know all the scenarios

I know they mean to stifle me Even with her eyes on me

I let them

- Preston





Chapter Five


New Jersey


“What are your plans today?” Bennie asks as I hop up onto Vinyl’s front counter.

“I don’t know. I might hang out and bug you all day.”

“Well, I can’t afford to pay you, so don’t expect a check.”

I lean forward and hold her face between my hands. “No worries, B. I have enough money to last me a while.”

“Really? You have money? And you’re wearing those boots?”

“Ha-ha, smartass. I love these boots.”

“I’d love to burn those boots,” she says.

I pull my feet up and wrap my arms around my knees. “Don’t listen to her, boots. She doesn’t mean it.”

“Where did you get this money?”

“Oh, you know. I had odd jobs here and there.” The lie escapes so easily it makes me sick.

Preston passes by carrying a large box. I can see the muscles of his arms straining from the weight of it. In an unconscious decision, I hop down from the counter and follow him to the storage closet. Today he’s wearing a thin CBGB T-shirt and jeans that look soft and worn in. His boots look like mine, but clean.

“Hi,” I say.

He straightens but doesn’t turn toward me. I stand there quietly waiting to be acknowledged. Preston faces a metal panel on the wall and touches the top left screw holding it in place. His index finger slides to the other top screw and then down to the bottom where he touches those two.

He has no reaction to my presence except for the telltale stiff shoulders. I sit on a stack of empty crates and tap my heels against the floor. Preston turns, his eyes land on my feet and stay there.

“Wren.”

“You’re looking extraordinarily pretty today, Preston-who-carries-heavy-boxes.”

“I thought we agreed on ruggedly handsome.”

“I never agreed on anything.”

Preston folds his arms across his chest and leans against the wall opposite me. The curve of his biceps beneath that shirt makes me want to sink my teeth into his flesh. He looks so big and strong there, it seems as though he’s holding up the wall, not the other way around.

“You’re staring,” he says. His words sound harsh, but the sugar-coated smirk he’s wearing tells me he’s teasing.

“There’s a lot to take in.”

I slide off the crates and walk toward him. There’s no look of panic, no visible instinct to flee. Instead, he watches me. His eyes stay on mine until I’m standing too close. My fingers curl and flex, wanting to touch him so badly. I fight that feeling, afraid of pushing him away.

“You’re staring,” I tease.

He exhales slowly as his hand reaches for me. I think, this is it. He’s going to pull me into his arms and kiss the hell out of me. Instead, he seems to inspect the buttons on my shirt. He touches the collar button and then each one gets a gentle poke, trailing his hand between my breasts and down to my stomach. Preston pulls a thread hanging loose and tucks it into his pocket. There seems to be a rather victorious smile on his face.

“You had a thread,” he says simply.

“What if that thread was the only thing holding this shirt together? What if you pulling that thread causes my shirt to fall apart and leave me topless at some point during the day?”

I look up at him through my lashes and wait. I don’t expect Preston to humor me, but people seem to be doing a lot of things I don’t expect these days.

“I’d say, if that were the case…” He pauses. His eyes drop to my chest and return to my face. The tip of his tongue peeks out and sweeps over his bottom lip. “I’m going to have to follow you around all day.”

I laugh and watch him make a quick exit through the swinging door.

Around lunch time, I’m parked on the front counter again, flipping through new inventory. Bennie and I have been messing around, and it just solidifies how much I’ve missed her. She leaves to grab some lunch, so it’s just me and Preston in the shop. He keeps to himself, always staying busy cleaning or rearranging the stacks for the hundredth time. I watch him work, and while he doesn’t acknowledge me, I know he knows. I think he likes my eyes on him. I think he might like my everything on him.

The bell chimes, signaling a new customer, and I hop down to do my part. I’m surprised to see Sawyer there. What’s even more surprising is the uniform he’s wearing. It’s dark blue with patches sewn on, his name stitched above one pocket and a badge above the other.