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Rolling my eyes, I brushed past him, heading for the house yet again. Tendrils of smoke lazily curled up from the front of my car like a slumbering dragon
Made of rusty metal.
I adjusted my book bag higher on my shoulder, marching up the steps. The breeze tugged at the strands of my blonde hair, pulling it behind my back. The heat of the sun on me would normally have felt incredible, but my mood was sour with Romero hot on my heels.
“I don’t understand what you do to that thing, Julietta,” he said in a lighter tone than before.
I reached for the door, only to find it locked. With a huff, I moved to the side, allowing Romero to punch in the code since I didn’t have it memorized. It was on my phone, but that would have wasted more time.
Moving past me, Romero dipped his gaze to the exposed column of my throat, taking in the ruby necklace that he’d bought me for my birthday several years ago. I always wore it.
“Lizzy’s a temperamental bitch,” I answered in a surly tone, arms folded over my chest.
His eyes lifted to mine. He was a foot taller than my five foot two inches and intimidating as hell if you got on his bad side. I’d seen it only once—twice now, I guess—but that was enough. Around my mom and me though, he was a gentle giant.
Seeming to realize I couldn’t get in the house, he punched in the code and opened the door wide. I slipped into the foyer, dropping my bag onto the bench just beside the door, then kicked my shoes off.
“You could have called me to come get you instead of hiring a tow truck.” When I didn’t reply, he asked with his hands shoved in his pockets, “How did orientation go?”
I kept walking into the kitchen, hearing his eerily quiet steps behind me. “It went fine. It’s boring crap. Got my ID, registered for classes, yada, yada, yada.”
Romero grunted his agreement as I opened the refrigerator door and bent to retrieve a bottle of water. I started to straighten, then paused, remembering that none of the items inside were mine. “Want anything?”
Glancing over my shoulder, I saw him leaning against the counter directly behind me. “No,” he replied gruffly.
I shrugged and let the door close with a cool bottle in hand. When I turned, I noticed Romero’s dark brows strung together like they’d been stitched that way. He looked lost in thought, yet his attention was fixed on the refrigerator, where I’d been standing.
“I’m going to go upstairs,” I said tentatively, heading for the door. “I still have some stuff to unpack.”
That seemed to snap him out of whatever thoughts he’d gotten lost in.
“Julietta,” he said, halting me. His accent made my name sound so much prettier than it was, and I appreciated it more when he used it. My friends all called me Jules and so had my mother; only Romero insisted on calling me Julietta.
“I’m going to have some friends over for a few games of cards later tonight. We’ll be in the den.” Something like concern flashed across his features before they hardened. My heart tripped over itself. “It’s best if you stay upstairs.”
The den was in the basement. It was his area when my mom had been alive. I nodded, not wanting to look at him again, and hurried up to my bedroom.
With the door closed behind me, I leaned against it, confused. I’d been back for only two days, but from the moment I’d called Romero, asking to move back in, things had shifted between us.
I knew it was because my mom wasn’t here. That there was no one that tied us together anymore. My weird attraction to him made things awkward.
I hated awkward.
The day of my mom’s funeral, I moved out. I crashed here and there, using what little earnings I made from my job at the shoe store to pay for cheap hotel rooms. Some nights I slept in my car. It didn’t matter much in the first year or so after she died. I’d felt lost.
After dropping out of high school, I floated, working for what I needed to survive. But this summer was an eye-opener. Everyone was going off to college.
Arie, who let me crash at her place as often as her parents would allow, had been accepted to Yale. It was she that pushed me to get my GED. Once I had that, I knew I couldn’t work for minimum wage forever.
I’d had a knack for science when I was in school, so I applied to the local college and was granted late acceptance into the fall term to study Chemistry. Vaguely, I wondered what it would be like if Vanessa were still alive. Would she be proud that I was going to get a degree and make something of myself one day?
Staring at my queen-sized bed, the empty boxes stacked at the foot of it, and the large heap of clothing strewn over the top, I felt slick heat stinging my eyes. The purple-and-pink comforter with diamond patterns had been selected by my mom. Pink was not my favorite color, but I didn’t have the heart to turn her down.
I padded over the thick, soft carpet, setting my water on the mattress. Rifling through the clothes for my swimsuit, I paused when my hand bumped into the hard, unmistakable lumps that were my vibrator and dildo. A weird buzzing energy rose inside me as I brought out the items bundled in a T-shirt, letting them fall on top.
It’s likely I stared at them for too long, entertaining the possibility that giving myself an orgasm would quash whatever pent-up sexual frustration I was carrying around. That had to be why I was suddenly so aware of Romero.
I shook off the silly idea, grabbed my swimsuit, and went to change. The pool out back was my favorite part of the house, and when I dipped my toes into the cool, crystalline water, I smiled.
