Last Call (17 page)

He reaches up and puts his hand inside of mine. “Royce.”

I nod my head and smile. “Nice to meet you, Royce. I’m going to have to carry your mom to my house, okay?”

“Just don’t drop her, or I will slug you,” he snaps back, the scowl intact.

“Royce! Don’t talk like that to adults!” Mariah scolds and mouths ‘sorry’ to me.

I hold up my hands in a surrender fashion then simply smile. This little man is all business, something I can respect.

“Oh, yes, sir. I promise, if I hurt your mother, you can punch me as hard as you can in the stomach.”

Satisfied, he nods his head in acceptance.

Then I bend down and turn my back to Mariah, motioning for her to hop on. She wraps her arms around my neck and her thighs secure at my waist.

Right now, I’m not sure if I’m entirely comfortable with Mariah coming to my house. Then again, there’s another side of me screaming to take her to my place. The asshole part of me who wants to walk with her grasped around my body the other way, feeling her tits pressed into my chest and the heat of her core against my stomach. I want her lips fastened to mine as we walk up to my penthouse. Then I’d give her the night of her life, making her forget the pain in her ankle. Again, that’s the dickhead side of me, and the only side I’m comfortable with at times.

I can’t keep the fog in my head clear; consequently, I decide to simply focus on walking without falling on my ass. I clear my throat, and we start to make our way up the beach, just as Glenn walks to the blanket.

Before we move too far, I turn my head and glance over to Royce. He is walking beside us, looking innocently at the ocean. He is watching the waves roll onto the shore, mesmerized by the presence and sound. I wonder if I had the same look on my face when I came to the beach as a kid on those nights where I’d escape whatever hellhole I was living in. To this day, seeing, smelling, and hearing the ocean puts me at peace, which makes me believe I probably did.

While we walk up the stairs from the private beach entrance and then into the building, Royce is still looking around with an expression of wonder. The lobby of my building is very pleasing to the eye with grand floor-to-ceiling windows, large chandeliers, and expensive Italian décor. It’s a place of elegance and very attractive.

“You live in a hotel?” Royce asks in excited shock. “You can have waffles every day for breakfast, can’t you?”

I start to laugh and can feel Mariah giggling against my back. “It looks like a hotel, but I have a pent… ahh… apartment on the top floor,” I answer. The kid probably doesn’t know what the hell a penthouse is; making me glad I corrected what I was going to say.

“We live in an apartment, too, but ours isn’t as shiny,” Royce says as he looks at his reflection in the elevator doors. He’s wiggling his eyebrows up and down and sticking his tongue out.

Mariah starts to giggle again, and I can’t help joining in just as the elevator dings. I’ve only known him moments, but I can tell he’s a funny kid and keeps Mariah on her toes.

We walk in and Royce looks up to me, asking with his eyes what number he needs to push. “You need to put in a code here.” I point to the keypad. “Would you like to do it?” He nods his head with happiness. “Okay, but it’s a secret. You can’t tell anyone. Promise?” Glenn is the only person who has my elevator code, but I feel comfortable giving it to Royce. He’s just a child; I doubt he will remember it five minutes from now.

“Promise!” He lifts his finger and hovers them over the buttons.

I bend down and whisper into his ear, “Four, seven, nine, and five. Now hit the green button.” He punches the numbers as I speak them, and when the green button is pushed, the elevator ascends to the top floor. Royce grabs the handle to hold on as we are whisked to my penthouse.

The nerves in my gut start to flutter when I think about whose going to be in my apartment. Having Mariah here is completely different from housekeeping or Glenn. She is the first person, aside from the staff, whose stepped foot into this eight thousand square foot place. There is a certain amount of anxiety that grows knowing you’ll be exposing yourself in such a vulnerable way. I don’t let people in. I keep them out. Yet one look into this woman’s face along with the disappointment in her son’s voice had me letting my guard down just enough to invite them in.

Releasing a breath, I push open the foyer door and walk through. I can hear Mariah gasp as she looks around my place. Before we walk from the entryway, I remove my shoes and motion to Royce to do the same thing. He kicks off his flip-flops and sets them beside mine.

I carry Mariah through the great room and into my kitchen where I set her down on the granite counter top and pull her shoes off. I walk them over to the door, placing them next to Royce’s and mine. The sight of our shoes next to each other makes me smile. For a moment, it feels very natural to see our shoes piled here. Maybe the wounded kid inside of me wants the family I never had when I was growing up; however, the sensible part of me knows that will never be an option.

M
ariah

When Jason invited us up to his apartment, I was very hesitant. I didn’t want him knowing about Royce, and I sure as hell didn’t want Royce knowing about him. My son is inquisitive and will ask any question he sees fit to get answers. At times, I feel he is interrogating me for the simplest details with anything; my supper choice, when we’re going to see grandma next, why superheroes only exist on TV. This relationship with Jason and the fact that he now knows I have a male friend will spark questions I’m not prepared to answer. I knew one day we’d have to have the talk about guys and why I don’t have one or why he doesn’t have a daddy, but I was hoping I could get by for a few more years.

When Jason opened the door to his penthouse, I was completely taken aback. It is a very grand and beautiful place. From the white marble floors, elaborate entertainment set up, to the wall of glass overlooking the ocean, this place is breathtaking and solidifies how rich Jason really is. It makes me a little nervous.

I keep my mouth shut and look around as he carries me into the kitchen and sets me on the counter where he removes my shoes. I take the opportunity of privacy when he walks away with them to speak with my son. 

“You need to be really careful here, okay? Don’t get into anything, and for the love of God, don’t break anything. One of these plates”—I point to the dishes in the glass cupboards—“probably costs more than Mommy makes in one year. Okay, love?”

Royce looks up at me and smiles. “I know, I know. Geesh, I wasn’t born in a barn.”

I release a giggle, knowing he’s repeating something my mother would say to my brother when he was Royce’s age.

Jason comes strolling back into the room, looking relaxed, yet not. I’m wondering what is going through his mind. Is he freaking out because I have a kid? Or that I hurt my ankle? Or that I’m in his apartment, with my kid, and hobbling on an injured ankle? Fuck, it’s probably all three. Well, at least I won’t have to do the dirty work and tell him I love him. He will end the relationship as soon as he gets me out of his place. That will suck because looking at him dressed in his workout shorts and nothing else is enough to make me jump off this counter and fuck his brains out. I’ve never been so turned on in my life. He looks incredibly normal and not the asshole he typically is—the very asshole he was last night when he left me.

He says nothing as he opens his freezer and pulls an ice pack from the shelf. He wraps the cold pack in a towel and gently places it on my ankle. It hurts initially; however, the sweat covering his upper body distracts me. I think about how badly I want to run my tongue along the V cut of his abs while taking little nibbles along the way.

I can feel my cheeks heat and this gets Jason’s attention. “I called Jim. He’s a doctor who lives in the building. He’ll be up here shortly. Do you need something?” I shake my head because my insecurities over this situation have strangled the words inside my throat, smothering my vocal cords and any attempts of making a sound.

“Jason,” Royce shouts from the dining room windows, “are you rich or something?”

“Royce!” I shout, completely mortified. Leave it to my six-year-old to ask this very personal question and not give a shit if he offends anyone. “That is none of your business!”

Jason only laughs and walks over to Royce next to the windows. “I do all right for myself, buddy.” He kneels down and gets eye to eye with my son. “Do you want to see something cool?”

Royce nods his head with his twinkling midnight eyes and follows Jason into the TV room. With a push of a button, the entertainment center opens up and displays a very large, flat screen, gaming consoles, and other fancy electronic things. It’s like something you’d see on MTV Cribs or some shit. Royce stands frozen as Jason turns on the TV and begins searching for a show.

“The Avengers!” Royce shouts excitedly, raising his arms in the air. “I’m still waiting for Mom to buy this for me. The Hulk is my favorite. Mama doesn’t like him because he’s green and cranky, but I think it’s cool when he punches people in the face. Who’s your favorite?”

“Well… I don’t think I’ve seen this one, man. I don’t watch TV,” Jason says.

Royce looks dumbstruck, standing in sheer confusion as he processes the very thought of Jason not watching TV. “We need to have a movie night. You should come over to my house. I have a lot of good movies.”

My stomach sinks to my feet. Royce has no idea the kind of relationship Jason and I have, and it sure as hell doesn’t involve snuggling on the couch watching movies. I see Jason stare for a moment at Royce. He, too, looks lost as to how to respond to his question. Deep down, I would love to have Jason over to watch movies with us. I’d love to do something normal with him that doesn’t include getting naked. As much fun as it is to be with Jason in the back of his Escalade or in his office at Toxic, I really just want him around for it all.

I shake my head, knowing that will never happen, and after today, my relationship with Jason will have to end because he will never be able to give me more.

Still at a loss, Jason simply nods his head and sets the remote down on the coffee table. Royce has no problem making himself comfortable as he plops down on the huge, oversized couch pushed against the opposite wall from the TV. Jason makes his way across the dining room and back into the kitchen and then pulls a bottle of water from the fridge, handing it to me.

We have yet to speak about everything that’s happened on the beach or moments ago in the living room. I’m not sure I’m ready to have that conversation, either. I don’t want to let him go yet, and I know, as soon as we do have that discussion, Jason will say his goodbyes. He’s the eternal bachelor and has no room for a single mother.

Jason leans against the counter and takes sips of his own water bottle, the air around us growing increasingly uncomfortable, making the pain in my ankle welcome. I’d rather have this throbbing pain stabbing my foot than sit here, crossing the inevitable line dangling between us.

As I take an opportunity to steal a glance at him, he appears to be lost in thought. He’s holding the bottle of water to his lips without taking a drink. He just has it pressed to his mouth as he internally debates something. I want to ask him what he’s thinking, so much so that I feel like I’m going to combust, but like before, my insecurities are choking my ability to speak.

Finally, the silence is broken. “You’re the first person I’ve had in my house.” He hasn’t looked over at me or really changed his position other than to take a big gulp from his water bottle, and then hold it there again. As Jason looks down to me, I feel the all-consuming feeling that is always present when I’m around him. He looks like another person, though; someone I’ve only gotten glimpses of and no one has really gotten to know.

He sets down the water bottle, leaning toward me, and raises his palm to my cheek, his hand cold against my hot flesh. Jason runs the pad of his thumb over my cheekbone and his eyes break away slightly to look at my lips, causing my breath to become captured in my lungs.

Slowly, Jason leans down, pressing his forehead to mine, and hovers there with his lips over mine. He obviously wants to kiss me, but it will be a kiss he’s never experienced before, or that I have, for that matter. It won’t be a kiss that leads to a passionate, lust-filled interaction. It will be one that will make us cross that bridge from fuck buddies to something else. I can sense the energy like I can feel his hand on my face. It feels as though everything from the moment will change if we follow through with this kiss. Oh, how badly I want to kiss him, but I won’t move. This choice is on him.

Jason pulls his head away slightly and looks deeply at me and raises his other hand, cupping both my cheeks. I run my fingers up his strong back and hold him as he contemplates within himself if he will kiss me or not. I hold still and hold hope he will, that everything between us will change for the good. I can see his head tilt to the side, knowing it’s going to happen, feeling like it’s going to be the kiss that opens his heart, when the doorbell rings, causing us to jump. The moment gone, Jason backs away quickly and moves in silence to the door.

I expel my captured breath and roll my eyes in disappointment before Jason returns, following a short, middle aged man with a doctor’s bag. He’s a round man with blonde, slightly balding hair and wire-framed glasses. I suppress the need to roll my eyes again at how bad his timing is.

“Okay, Mariah, I’m Dr. Metz. Mr. Cain informed me you fell on the beach and you’re quite uncomfortable.” I simply nod my head and lift up my left ankle. He removes the ice pack and sets it beside me on the counter. The swelling appears to be going down a little; however, it still hurts quite a bit. “Can you twist your foot around in a circle for me?” I rotate my foot around, feeling the painful ache on the side of my foot. Then he runs his finger over my ankle, foot, and up my leg. “I don’t think you broke it, but you do have a nasty sprain. I will wrap it for you, and I’d like you to follow up with me in my office in a couple of days. Continue to ice it and take Advil for the pain. What is your occupation?”