Nets and Lies(43)

It really was freeing. I went to school with no makeup and my hair pulled back in a ponytail. I mean, there was no one I had to impress—no one to dress up for, to slink around like a sex kitten for. Nope, just the nuns.

And I liked it that way.

The day Carson beat me up in the locker room, I officially swore off men. They’d caused too much trouble in my life—not to mention the fact I didn’t want to follow in my mother’s footsteps. Basically, I went to school, did my homework, and worked.

So far, I had no contact with anyone from the Newton world. I desperately wanted to hear from Tara, but she would never return my phone calls. I knew from the newspapers that Coach T was out on bail awaiting the trial. Dread filled me at the thoughts of to running into him again. Not that I worried about what he might do if he saw me. Instead, I worried about my reaction. It had been two weeks of slowly weaning myself off him. Two weeks of telling myself every day I no longer loved him. Two weeks of each day realizing what a fool I’d been.

Every day Mom broached the subject of going to the authorities and dropping the case. Each time she did, I said I would do it tomorrow. It was just too much to bear at the moment.

Even though little time had passed, it was like I went in one world and then woke up in another. One day I was myself and then the next I was someone entirely different. It was a little frightening—like waking up as a clone.

I breezed into Fiorenza’s at a little past four. My work clothes were stowed in the duffel bag on my shoulder. As Marcus came around the corner, his eyes roved over my uniform, and then he whistled. “Damn, Jordan! Rocking the naughty school girl look, are we?”

I snorted. “You’re so original, Marcus.”

He laughed. “It’s a good look on you.”

“Whatever,” I muttered, as I headed into the back storeroom to change. The revolving door swung behind me as I snuck over to one of the corners, away from the prying eyes of pervy Italian waiters.

I stripped off my navy vest and started unbuttoning my shirt. After I slid it off, I tossed it over a rack of tomato sauce. I had just started easing off my skirt when someone burst through the door. “What the—” I muttered.

His arms were loaded down with boxes. Before I could wiggle back into my skirt, he turned to face me. “Jesus,” said.

It was then I got a good look at him. He had dark hair, buzzed short. The blue eyes that drank in every curve on me were the clearest I’d ever seen. In the light, I caught the gleam of piercings in his chin and ears. Even through the white shirt of Fiorenza uniform, I could see his arms inked in blue and green tattoos.

He continued to stand there, staring at me. I cocked my eyebrows at him. “Hey ass**le, do you mind?”

“Oh damn, um, yeah, uh sorry. Excuse me,” he said, before he spun around and promptly tripped over a mound of boxes. A great commotion ensued as they all toppled over on him. Then he gave a low moan.

Without thinking, I raced over to him. Frantically, I began pushing and shoving boxes off of him. I cleared enough to see his face and gasped. “Oh shit, you’re hurt!”

A large gash ran across his forehead, sending blood oozing down his face. I turned back and ran over to my clothes. I grabbed up the white shirt and hurried back over to him.

I started to bring the shirt to his forehead, but he swatted it away. “No, it’ll ruin it!”

“But we have to stop the bleeding,” I said, pressing it against him. He stopped arguing with me and lay back against the floor.

That’s when I realized since I was kneeling over him in nothing but my skirt and bra, he had one hell of a view. Way to go, Jordan. Nice of you to expose yourself so soon to a guy after swearing them off!

He must’ve read my thoughts. “Here I’ve got this. You go ahead and change.”

“Okay.” I went back to the corner where I was before. I snatched up my shirt and threw it on and then I grabbed the khaki pants out of the bag and slid them up with my skirt still on. It didn’t make it down as easy with the pants on, and I must’ve have grunted and strained pretty loudly because I heard his laughter.

“I would’ve closed my eyes, you know,” he called from across the room.

I whirled around and shot him a look. “Why bother? You’d already ogled every inch of me. What was left?”

Slowly, he rose to his feet. He wobbled a little at first before he strode over to me. “If that’s the case, then why did you put your pants on first?” When I didn’t say anything, he grinned. “Pity, cuz I would’ve enjoyed a view of your ass.”

I snorted. “Wow, you’re a real sweet talker, huh?”

He crossed his arms over his chest. “Yeah, actually I am. Get to know me and you’ll see.”

“Um, hmm, I don’t think that’s necessary.” I eyed him up and down. “So what are you doing here anyway?”

“Manny hired me. I’m the new cook.”

“Good for you.” I glanced at my watch. “Well, try not to kill yourself again, okay?”

He grinned. “If I knew it’d bring an angel of mercy like you, I’d do it every day, maybe even every hour.”

I rolled my eyes and started for the door. “Nice pick up lines.”

“Wait,” he said. I turned back around. “We haven’t been introduced.” He thrust out his hand. “I’m Nick DeLuca.”