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“Isn’t the question who?” I piped, turning my head with a smile full of teeth.
“Don’t. You aren’t cute, especially in a Vols T-shirt,” he said, pushing past me to make himself at home in the kitchen.
Cedric hated anything that had to do with Tennessee, while I kept subtle reminders of where we came from close to fuel and motivate me. Not that I needed them with my recent dreams.
“So I met a guy at The Rabbit Hole,” I started as his glass paused at the ice dispenser. “And he claims to be a bad guy. And, well, we kind of had a rendezvous here, and I think he’s the reason—”
“Are you listening to yourself?” he asked as he sipped his water and gave me a wary look. “Seriously, Taylor.”
Digging my nails into my palms, I cursed my bad decisions. “I’m not this stupid.”
Eyebrows raised, Cedric looked out my window at my view of the marsh. “You’re lonely.”
Standing motionless, I waited on his backlash, but to my surprise, he gave none.
“I’ll replace it with something new, change the locks. I’ll take care of this.” He turned, giving me a stern look. “Do I need to go further?”
I knew exactly what he was asking. Though to my friend and business partner, Nina, Cedric was legitimate security—and he was—he would go a lot further to protect me if I needed it. I shook my head in a no. I was sure Daniello wasn’t a threat to my life, but then again, I knew absolutely nothing about him, except he was beautiful, infuriating, and apparently liked to have uninterrupted access to the women he ‘shared’ time with.
Cedric emptied his glass and put it in the sink, surveying me from head to toe. I didn’t fidget under his scrutiny. “You can take care of yourself, Taylor. I know this, but if you ever—”
“I know,” I said back with a small smile. I wished one more time for the sake of wishing that I could have affection beyond friendship for Cedric. He truly was a decent looking man. Covered heavily in tats and a well-muscled body, I was sure he had his fair share of companions. Still, I had to ask.
“Are you…lonely?” Eyes crinkling, he took a step toward me.
“You finally going to quench that curiosity?”
I pushed at his chest in jest. He smirked and took a step back. “No, Taylor, I’m all good in that department. But do yourself a favor and try and remember you just got your last wish granted by taking a hold in that company. Don’t fuck it up falling into old habits.”
I nodded, knowing damn well who he was referring to: my original bad guy, the one who used to be his best friend. A name we didn’t speak between us, and a name I would love to forget.
“You smell like bleach. Blech,” Laz said as he helped me out of my bedroom window. We’d been meeting up at night after my mother had finally let me go to my bedroom to ‘do homework or whatever and go to bed.’ I’d flip my light on and off a few times as Laz watched from the field for my signal. We’d decided at school today to meet up so he could teach me how to ride a bike. It was late and I was exhausted but got my second wind thinking of taking the driver’s seat for the first time.
“My momma,” I huffed as if he would understand. I attempted to explain better, “She makes us clean every day.”
“Us?” Laz said, looking past me with concern.
“Amber,” I whispered, “my little sister. She’s not old enough…Forget it.”
We stood in close proximity as Laz’s half-shadowed face studied me. I pushed the frizzy red mess out of my face and lifted my chin. I shouldn’t care what he thought, and I knew it, but I couldn’t help the embarrassment I felt at what he had already seen.
“Let’s go,” he offered, grabbing my hand. I felt my chest tug at his small gesture and looked up at him in confusion.
“Don’t get the wrong idea, Red, I’m not into you,” he snapped, pulling his hand away. “It’s dark, follow me.”
We had no street lamps and were screwed for light as far as the time of day, but I didn’t care, and it seemed neither did he. He brought me to the halfway point between our houses, onto the smoothest possible dirt road. I knew the road by heart as it led to a small fishing pond that my dad used to take me to when I was much younger. Saddled on the bike, I looked to my right and could barely see Laz with the small amount of light shed from the crescent moon.
“Balance yourself and just peddle,” he instructed gruffly. “Don’t think too hard or you’ll fall. Push off hard, steer straight, and don’t stop peddling.”
“Got it,” I said enthusiastically.
“I’ll hold onto you for a bit, but then I’ll let go,” he warned.
“Don’t. I don’t want your help,” I snapped.
“Look, Red,” he said, indignant.
“Stop calling me that!” I argued. “I’ve got it.”
