In the Mix (8 page)

“Um . . . okay,” she says hesitantly but then comes out from behind the counter. “This way.” She gives me a half smile before walking ahead of me. And yes—I check out her heart shaped ass again. It may not really be heart shaped—but there are hearts flying out of my eyes at it.
Yum!
I’d like to take a bite out of that crime. “What kind of dog do you think she’d want?” She turns abruptly to me.

“Who?” I ask as if I’m in a daze. I suppose I am . . . or was. Oh, fuck it! I’m screwing this up already! How do I know? Call it hunch, but I’m going by the look of suspicion on CiCi’s face. Her raised eyebrows are screaming “liar!” at me. “Sorry,” I say quickly. “My mind wandered away.” I open the door behind her that leads into the back. “After you.” I wave her in.

“Well?” she asks as she walks ahead of me again into the other room.

“Well, what?”

“Kyle!” she yells with frustration, turning on her heal again to face me.

“What?” I throw my hands out and try not to smirk. It’s quite the challenge. We all know how I like to smirk.

“What kind of
fucking dog
does she want?!”

“Preferably one that isn’t a
fucking
dog; that could be embarrassing when she takes him out for walks.” I tease.

“What are you doing here?” she seethes. Damn it, she’s even hot when she’s angry. Maybe hotter.

“I told you. I’m here to get a dog for Linz.”

“I think you’re here to provoke me,” she challenges.

“I am not here to poke you. Well, not today at least.”

“I said
pro voke,
” she says slowly, breaking up the syllables for me like I’m five.

“You definitely said poke.”

“I did not.”

“You must want me to poke you.” I continue to bait her.

“I do not!” she says through clenched teeth. I step closer to her to the point where we are nose to nose. I note the tempo change of her breaths. It matches my own. Our heads struggle against what seems like a magnetic force wanting to join our lips. Mine brush against hers, slightly.

“Why do you fight it so much?” I murmur.

“Fight what?” she asks breathily.

“This. Us. Let me in, Ceese.” I grasp her face in my hands gently.

“No.” She tries to pull away.

“Let. Me. In.” My hold firmer with a slight shake at each word.

“No.”

I slam my mouth against hers.

Not two seconds go by and she’s giving it right back to me, fisting the ever-loving fuck out of my hair, I might add. I don’t care. She can angry kiss me all she wants, just as long as she’s kissing me. Slowly, the anger dissipates and our tongues explore each other’s mouth at a savoring pace.

Reluctantly, I pull away. One more swift peck and . . . an eskimo kiss. “C’mon, let’s find a dog for my sister.”

“Um . . . do you know what kind she um . . . would want?” she stammers.

“You’d know best.” I let my hands drop down to hers, squeezing them before I let go of her left one. I lace my fingers with hers and tug her along a bit. “C’mon.” I jerk my head towards the cages.

“A lapdog,” she mumbles.

“Ok.” I smile. “Show me what you have.” I run my thumb over the top of her hand. She looks down at our entwined hands as she follows along. “Let’s look at the oldest ones first. I think she’d feel best about giving one of them a home,” I say to distract her from any thought of pulling away from me.

“That’s a great idea, actually.” Her eyes widen. “I have just the dog for her!” she says excitedly and drags me towards the right instead. I stare at her in amazement. These animals bring out such a light in her; I’m half-jealous of them.
She lets them in.

“Are you sure about this?” I ask her for the hundredth time. Mickey is cute and all . . . ya know . . . with the exception of his continuous growl and several attempts on my life already. Let the record show: I’ve had him leashed and next to me for all about five minutes now. I may be sweating profusely at the thought of traveling home with him.

“Just give him space and you’ll be alright.” She goes to pet him but quickly backs up when he nips.

“Do you have a muzzle for him?” I ask impatiently. I can’t believe she’s serious about me taking him. “You know, I’m starting to wonder if you are doing this on purpose.”

“What do you mean?” She shoots me a look of confusion that simmers my boiling pot down. I’m overreacting.
Fuck.
This dog is scary as hell. It’s a white terrier-mixed-something-or-another with beige spots. However, all I see are his fucking teeth, grinning at me with an evil smile. It’s not a smile, though. It’s an “I’m going to eat your nuts for lunch, Kyle” vicious grin. “Kyle?” She touches my arm, tearing my gaze away from Mickey “The Man Eater.” “Are you ok? You don’t look so hot.”

“You don’t think I’m hot?”

“I said you don’t look so hot.”

“So, you don’t think I’m hot. Should I work out more?”

“No. I think you’re hot . . . I mean . . . you don’t need to work out more. It’s nice. You . . . it’s nice. Oh fuck! Why are you doing this to me today?” She throws her hands in her hair and paces around a little. Mickey seems nervous by her actions. Me? I’m smirking.

“Doing what?”

“This!” She throws her hands out. “You’ve never done
this
before!”

“What? Get you flustered?” Still smirking . . .

“
Yes!
What the hell?!”

“I’m taking what I can get.”

“What the fuck does that mean?” She widens her eyes. Her beautiful—
I so want to stare into them the rest of my life
—eyes.

“Until I can get you flustered the way I want to get you flustered, this will have to do.” I take a step towards her, crowding her personal space. Our eyes track back and forth like we’re watching a tennis match. But you know what we’re really doing, right? “You’re losing your edge, gorgeous.” I step back but then lean down near her ear. “I can almost taste your pussy on the tip of my tongue,” I breathe. Her lungs push air in and out rapidly. I straighten up and slowly begin to back away from her, taking Mickey along with me. “See, you have me pegged as a
nice guy
and I am. However, I have no problem being bad, Ceese. In fact, I’m pretty good at it, baby.” I raise an eyebrow to join my smirk. Checkmate. She’s speechless as I leave with the man-eater. Although, after that stare down, he seems to know I’m the boss now. He even gets into my car with no problem.

“Woo!” I howl after closing my door. “Did you see that?!” I ask Mickey. What? There’s nobody else around. “I totally beat her at her own game! You see, she usually says something inappropriate to throw people off, but I did it! And it worked!” I grin at him. His upper lip curls and . . .

I may have just thrown up in my mouth.

I quickly start the car up and roll down the windows. This fucking dog is going to kill me one way or another—I swear!

Flick on . . . flick off.

Flick on . . . flick off.

“Fuck you, Mr. Miyagi, and the bastard from the electric company,” I groan quietly and hit the flashlight on my cell phone. I walk in fully to my house and shut the door behind me. I look down at the little green shut-off slip from the electric company.
Oh good!
I only have to pay $358.03 to have it turned back on—that’s the deposit.

Fuck my life.

Well, I can’t sit here and act like I didn’t know it was going to happen. It was either the electric at the shop or here. I think my customers would find it odd if I handed their pets back to them soaking wet.

Looking around in the darkness, I decide to do what I do best: mess with my sister. You’ll see what I mean. Bitch falls for it every time! I quickly pack a few things and run back out, locking the door behind me. This will be better for me anyhow. I don’t want to spend another night replaying, what I now refer to as, The Kyle—what the fuck was that?—Incident.

I jump into my car and start it up. Yes, there should be enough gas in this baby to get me to her house.
Fucking hell, I feel like a goddamn teenager

“Hey, sorry I’m late!” I say out of breath as I charge into Charley’s house.

“Late for what?” She turns around with a look of confusion.

“I’m watching the kids tonight for you guys. Do I have the wrong night?” I ask, giving her my “what the fuck is wrong with you?” face.

“Uh . . . we haven’t asked you to watch the kids.” she states but I can see she’s trying to ponder whether she did or not. See? Bitch always falls for it.

“You totally did. What the fuck is the matter with you?” I ask as I saunter over to the sauce she’s cooking. “Mmm . . . whatcha got going on here?” I stir it then suck down a mouthful from the spoon.

“Ceese, goddamn it! Stop!” She smacks my hand.

“What?!” My mouth full. Mm . . . I haven’t had normal food in three days. “Did you make enough for me?” I ask, though I don’t know why I bother.

“Of course, but I wasn’t expecting you.” She nudges me over to open the oven.

Just then, I hear the garage door open. “I guess vagina breath is home.”

“Ceese, knock it off!” she gasps and swats me.

“Um . . . according to you, it’s true.” I bite back my smile.

“I did not say he has . . . vagina breath,” she says the last bit quietly.

“Hey, Ceese! What a pleasant surprise!” Mitch bellows behind me . . . sarcastically. Don’t get me wrong, Mitch and I love each other. Things have just been a little off because of the whole Kyle situation.

“According to Ceese, we asked her to watch the kids tonight,” Charley informs Mitch before planting a kiss on his lips.

Yeah. I’m jealous. So what? I’m also happy for my sister. I can live vicariously through her. I know I’ll never have this. You know, the ‘Hey, honey, how was your day?’ shit.
He
ruined all my hopes of having that. I’ll never allow myself to trust like that again. It’s been fifteen years and it’s no less painful or traumatic. I’m always amazed how people handle things so differently. You ever think about that? What happened to me, I can just about guarantee, has happened to other women. I don’t know who they are but I wonder if they’ve moved on from it. I have. In many ways, I have, except when it comes to trusting.

“CiCi!” Mitch snaps his fingers in my face and I focus back. “Where’d you go in there?” He taps my temple.

“I’d tell you, but then you’d want to tag along next time.” I grab some grapes out of the bowl on the counter and pop them into my mouth. “Where are the kids?” I ask with my mouth full.

“Mom and Dad’s for the night.” Charley raises a brow at me.
Damn it.

“Why did you do that since I was coming over?”

“I didn’t know you were coming over.” She rolls her eyes. I mentally chuckle. No one ruffles her feathers like I do. I’m quite proud of that record.

“Why the hell else would I be here? Don’t you think I have better things to do?” I throw my arms up.

“
No!
” They bark in unison.

“But, I’m glad you’re here,” Mitch smiles. Not the normal smile you get from somebody who’s generally happy. More like a smile from someone who has something up their sleeve but you’re not quite sure what it could be.

“Why?” I ask slowly and suspiciously.

“We’ve missed you, that’s all!” He smiles broadly and pulls me in for a hug.
Awkward hug.
Just then, the doorbell rings. “Ah! That would be our dinner guest.” Mitch announces, pulling away.

“Dinner guest?” I mouth to Charley when he leaves to answer the door. She ignores me by turning to grab dishes out of the cabinet.

“Here, at least set the table,” she says as she passes them to me.

“I can go.”

“Nope,” she quips and goes back to getting things ready to bring out. I walk out to the dining room with the plates.

“Oh . . . so you are alive! What’s the matter, Ceese, you can’t call a brotha back?”

“Jay . . . first of all,” I turn to face him, “you’re white. Second, I’ve been busy.”

“Busy avoiding people,” he mutters under his breath.

“Only meddling bitches.” I smile sarcastically.

“Oh, shut the fuck up and give me some love!” He grabs me and pulls me into his Hercules-embrace. Jay’s got a body to die for. The kind that makes you want to outline muscles with your tongue. He smells good. He’s handsome and when he smiles, those killer dimples get you every time. He’s one of my dearest friends and the only guy I thoroughly trust. Oh, and . . . he’s gay . . . as all the good ones are. I could hug him forever.