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“I won’t sleep with you.”
“Didn’t ask you to.”
“I’ll have my own room in—in your apartment?”
He doesn’t even crack a smile. The man is stone-cold. Hard. “Yeah.”
“And you’ll pay everything?”
“That’s the deal.”
I can’t believe I’m considering this. “What do you need from me then? I need to know before I,”
“Yo! Dude, the fuck you been?” Tav, a massive half black man in leather and jean stumbles from the room at the back of the hall, catching sight of me and Cash. Or more accurately, of Cash pinning me against the wall.
With his big paw on the wall next to my head, his head crooked to crowd me, small, too-intimate inches between our bodies connecting, we don’t look innocent.
My face flames hot.
My body starts to tremble.
“Be there in a minute, Tav.” Tav is the man’s last name, but it’s the only one he goes by. I don’t even think Addy knows his first name.
Tav’s eyes move between the two of us in interest. “S’this?”
“Said I’d be there in a minute.”
Tav ignores Cash as he strolls closer, laughing. “Caught yourself a little mouse, I see.”
“Kitten,” Cash practically growls, and I can’t help but shiver. “I’ll pick you up in the morning. Eight. We’ll continue then, yeah?”
“What?” I gasp as he pushes off the wall, my head spinning. My life feels like it’s headed straight for a brick wall at full speed.I’m so confused. Spiraling out of control.
Cash claps Tav on the shoulder, shoving him back through the hall the way he came. He doesn’t look back at me once. Just like that, I’m left to process the insanity that just happened and all the ways my life is about to change if I agree and do this with him.
But what exactly is he asking me to do?
three
Wrenlee
I hardly slept a wink. Last night had been terrible, and after my unexpected clash with Cash in the hall of Addy’s Ace, I’d grabbed my purse and took the bus to the dark, totally not safe street where I found my four-floor walk-up. It wasn’t even remotely close to the university or work, but the rent, even though still too much to carry alone, was doable. Ish.
Cara had still been out, probably with her boyfriend when I’d returned, so I thankfully had the bedroom to myself. Cara wasn’t the nicest when I tossed and turned. She liked her space and her sleep, and resented the fact she needed a roommate to fund her addiction to shoes and fancy underthings. Marleyhad been sprawled on the couch, an open textbook about something to do with animals spread open on her belly. Of the two, I liked Marley most and would have preferred to share a bedroom with her, leaving Cara to herself—but it was Cara’s name on the lease, so Cara made the calls.
I showered and dressed in a pair of black leggings that were on the thin side, sadly, not by design. I paired the leggings with a simple purple, lightweight long sleeve sweater before I blow dried my hair and pulled it back into a high ponytail that hung straight down the length of my back. I didn’t bother with makeup, because I didn’t have much of it to bother with, and what I did have I saved for my shifts at the club. Mascara and blush are all I ever bother with, but clearly that hadn’t been enough if what Addy said last night was to be believed.
Feeling about the size of a thumbtack and just as prickly, I pour yesterday’s coffee into a mug and slide it into the microwave. Then I open the fridge for the one treat I allow myself—cream—and see none.
I want to cry. My morning coffee is my joy, and Cara, even though she isn’t here, took that too.
The microwave beeps and Marley sits up on the couch, rubbing her hands down her face. “Oh, hey.” Her eyes track me as my gaze lands on the empty creamer by the sink. In black sharpie across the front, I’ve written:Wren’s. Don’t touch!
All the good that did me.
“Cara.” Marley slides off the couch onto her knees, hand shooting under and appearing with a small plastic container. “I swear, she does it to piss you off. But I was out yesterday, and I picked this up for you. I know it’s not what you like, but I was hoping it would be something.”
I take the offered instant creamer in powder form, and feel tears threaten at how nice Marley is. She’s right, it’s not the same as real cream. But it’s something.
