Keep It Sexy (KIS Series Book 3) Page 3

  Roman and I have always made enough money that we could have gotten our own place, but we stayed to keep mom safe. I tried convincing her to move with me to Denver, but she refused. Luckily, a couple of guys Roman and I grew up with still lived in the building. It eased my fears, knowing she was still looked after. Ma was loved by all around these parts.

  As I walked onto the front yard of the tall brown building, I noticed a group of guys posted up on the corner. Two pressed languidly against the russet colored brick and the other three stood lax while they passed around a blunt and a couple of 40s. It wasn’t even noon yet and they were already on their way to I-don’t-give-a-fuck land. I felt pity for them. This neighborhood banged out gangsters and thugs like it was a well-oiled machine. It was nothing short of having a trademark ‘Made in Aurora’ brand tattooed on their backs with the content label reading, Thug comes with Dickies and Locs sunglasses. Batteries not included.

  These guys were products of their environment and didn’t know any better. But then, I managed to live the same way for so many years, I was weaved and threaded into the deepest part of this neighborhood. And still I managed to not only survive, but also leave. My pity shriveled up and died instantly. When the five of them noticed me, their backs stiffened like steel and they greeted me with nods and a what’s up.

  “Come to see your mom?” Hector asked. Hector was the local tattoo artist. He was famous for receiving different types of payments for his work.

  “Yup.”

  “Good, good. Uh, we’ve been keeping an eye on her when we can.” He spoke like a child who was preparing to get backhanded by a parent.

  “Thanks, man, I appreciate that.”

  Hector’s eyes lit up and the rest scowled at him.

  “You’re not the only one, Hector. We all do,” Juan snapped. My jawbones worked and tightened as I fought the urge to smack them all upside the head.

  “Come on by the bar one of these days. Drinks will be on the house.”

  Their faces split into big smiles.

  “Hell yeah, man. I’m down with getting some college pussy.” Hector laughed before taking a drink from the bottle. He swallowed, then cleared his throat. “Speaking of pussy, you talk to Ava lately?”

  He was trying to probe me without saying anything too disrespectful. Hector had never liked me ever since Ava chose to sleep with me one night instead of him. Out of the six of us here, four had slept with Ava. It didn’t bother me that she had—that was her prerogative—but Hector seemed to think she was my weakness. And maybe she was, but not in the way he was thinking.

  “Yeah, actually, she’s working for me.”

  Hector’s face fell. It was almost comical.

  “See you guys around,” I said. “Thanks again for looking out for my mom.” I shook everyone’s hand, pressing tighter around Hector’s grip. It was a silent warning, one that didn’t go ignored.

  Inside the apartment building, I raced the two flights of stairs to my mother’s apartment. Before unlocking the door with my own set of keys, I knocked, letting her know I was here. The last time I opened the door without warning, she’d hit me over the head with an iron skillet. She thought someone was breaking in.

  “Ma?” I called, closing the door behind me.

  “Estoy en la cocina, hijo.” Of course she was in the kitchen. She was always cooking something up. Either for my brother and me or someone in the neighborhood who was sick or simply needed her cooking to make them feel better.

  “Smells good,” I said, bowing to kiss the top of her graying head. From the looks and smells of it, she was cooking pozole.

  “I made extra for you,” she replied with a thick accent. Turning away from the stove, she hugged my waist. My mother was tiny; it was amazing how Roman and I came out of this little woman. “Sientate,” she demanded sweetly.

  I did as I was told and sat on the old yellow eighties’ style dining chair. The plastic was worn and torn and the color was stripped in random places from all the times my mother scrubbed it clean. It was old and dingy like everything else in her apartment, but it was spotless and smelled of bleached. I’ve forgotten the amount of times I’ve shown up with new furniture or handed her a wad of money, but she’d always refused all of it. My mom prided herself on being able to support herself with her own money. She always told me she left my father for a reason, and even though I was her son she would never accept my money. She’d never accept the money of any man.

  “You want some coffee?”

  “Is it the good stuff?” I asked. She grunted, offended by my question.

  “Claro, café Mexicano. Gringos don’t drink good coffee. They don’t know any better,” she explained. I smirked to hide the grunt gurgling in my stomach from her ignorance. Mom set a brown coffee mug in front of me, and alongside it, a small porcelain plate filled with little powdered cookies. “How’s the bar doing?”

  I quickly swallowed the cookie, taking a sip of the strong coffee before answering her.

  “Great, it’s the busiest bar on the block.”

  “Que bueno, hijo.” She beamed with pride and love in her eyes. “I have good news too.”

  “Oh, yeah? What’s that?” I asked, popping another cookie into my mouth.

  “Roman said he has a parole hearing. He might get out early!” She squealed, unable to contain her excitement.

  I struggled to swallow, also to show my enthusiasm. Roman could never do wrong in my mother’s eyes, even after he was caught and charged with three years in prison. Roman was her firstborn, so I figured maybe there was a connection between them I could never understand. Mom never intentionally made me feel like second best, but it was there in the small details. Like giving Rome a little extra food, or always giving him the Ninja Turtles cup growing up, when she knew it was my favorite show. Roman only asked for it to prove a point. Even after getting locked up, Ma still picked up extra shifts to fill his inmate fund account. Then lectured me for not lending any of my money to him. Yeah, sure, lending.

  “When is it?” I asked.

  “In a month.” She clasped her hands in front of her. “Con el favor de Dios.”

  God willing. Looking down to my lap to suppress my eye roll, I lifted my waist to take out my wallet from my back pocket. Before I could take out the cash, Ma lifted her hand to stop me.

  “No. Christian, no quiero tu dinero.”

  “It’s not for you, it’s for Rome. Buy him whatever he needs,” I explained, softly placing two one hundred dollar bills on the table. It was all I had for spending cash for the month. Even when I worked at the bar, I never took the tips; I would divide them between everyone and give it to my employees. My mother sighed in relief and I wasn’t sure if she was relieved that she didn’t have to work so many hours these next two weeks to get Roman what he needed, or if she was relieved that I wasn’t offering money to give to her personally.

  “Gracias, hijo.” She smiled, leaving the money in its place. I knew once I left she’d pick it up; presently, her pride was too big to take it in front of me.

  “All right, Ma, I gotta go. I need to take care of some stuff for the bar.” She nodded in agreement, pushing back her chair to stand. I did the same before kissing the top of her head.

  “Take care,” she said, hugging me.

  “You too. Call me if you need anything.”

  “Si, claro.”

  I didn’t walk down the stairs until I heard the locks on her door turn behind me. Once outside, I noticed the group of guys was gone. I glanced back over at the apartment building that had been my home for so many years. It was mind-boggling to see how much things had changed in so little time. It didn’t seem that long ago that I was living this life, but at the same time it felt like an eternity.

  Chapter Four

  Billie

  Two hours.

  They’d been fucking for two goddamn hours. Straight.

  One hundred and twenty minutes ago when I heard Jade’s soft moans, I thought, good for them, but tha
t was ages ago and they were still going at it so hard the boards above me were shaking. Jesus! Was that even humanly possible? Personally, I’d never been with a man who could last two straight hours. Stamina. Pete must be eating his Wheaties.

  Bam.

  Bam.

  Bam.

  “Harder, baby, harder!” Jade’s wails were muffled, but still very clear.

  I was surprised he hadn’t smashed her head into the wall by now, and she still wants it harder?

  I seriously needed to get my ass in gear and find a job. I’d been here three days, and still no luck. And to make matters worse, it was possible my dad knew I was back. He’d sent a cryptic text asking me how I would manage to drive my Frog in the snow. Considering it doesn’t snow in Nevada, Don must’ve known, and he would surely show up in a few days and ask me to come back home. By that point, I would, because even though I love Jade, we’d be at each other’s throats and I’d cave and go with Don.

  I knew what would happen. I’d be there for a few months, he’d ask me to do a job with him and I’d decline. That would lead to another falling out, ending in me leaving Colorado yet again. My life was a series of cascading failures—predictable failures.

  When the banging and moaning finally stopped, I was fully awake. Pulling the comforter off my body, I winced as my feet hit the cold concrete and not the rug. I ran across the room on my tiptoes and quietly made my way up the stairs. Sitting on the round dining room table was Jade’s laptop. Bored and curious, I sat on the chair and turned on the machine to find Jade’s Facebook page staring back at me.

  I’d never signed up for an account, so I was curious to see who she was friends with. As I scrolled through her pictures, I noticed she had a lot from the bar where she worked. One girl was photographed with her a lot. She was, for lack of a better word, stunning. Midnight hair flowed behind her like molten onyx, and her eyes were a curious mix of honey and sepia. Her body was surely every man’s fantasy.

  No name was tagged on the photo, but on the comments below, someone said her name was Ava. There were more photos of this Ava, and two other girls. One had the same eyes, but light brown hair. She was just as pretty but in a girl-next-door sort of way. The third girl had curly blonde hair with bright green eyes. Jade and the three girls looked like friends—good friends—and that felt like a punch through my chest.

  I was jealous. I wanted this; I wanted a life full of girlfriends and a man to come home to. A man who would take my best friend into his house without question. Me wanting things never resulted in anything. Chaos followed me around, and I was cursed with living a crazy life. No sane person would purposefully inject themselves into my life.

  ***

  My sleep had been ruined last night by their banging, and now at eight in the morning it was ruined once again by a different sort of banging. Pots. I stared at a black dot above my head, feeling like my eyes had doubled in size. The corner of my left eye began to twitch.

  “Come on, Bil, wake up. I made you bacon,” Pete yelled down the stairs.

  Bacon. That was the only reason I hadn’t suffocated them in their sleep. They fed me bacon. My jaw clenched as I peeled the covers off me. I walked up the stairs one by one with a slouch. Sooner than I would have wanted, I came to the first floor while Pete and Jade kissed in front of the stove. Pete took one look at me and laughed.

  “There’s coffee ready in the pot,” Pete said, but Jade pushed him aside and pulled a Diet Coke from the fridge.

  “My girl doesn’t drink coffee,” she explained, handing me the can. I took it gratefully as I crashed on the dining room chair.

  “Why not?” Pete asked.

  “How do you think I keep this girlish figure?” I replied playfully before taking a large swig from the can.

  “What figure?” Pete goaded. With the can still at my mouth, I held my hand in the air and flipped him off as Jade smacked his chest.

  “Be nice.”

  “What? She knows,” he said as an explanation. I rolled my eyes and nodded.

  “Yes, I’m fully aware of what I’m not rocking under my clothes.”

  “Pete,” Jade scolded.

  “Baby, I’m not saying Billie is unattractive. All’s a guy can think about when they first meet her is in what way he can pick her lil’ ass up to fuck her. Dudes think petite girls are sexy. Easier to maneuver.” He winked at me before turning around to flip his eggs. I grunted, taking a piece of bacon that was cooling on a plate next to me. Jade walked over to my side with her hands on her hips.

  “What do guys think about when they first see me?”

  “Motorboat,” Pete and I said at the same time. We laughed as Pete came over to high five me. Jesus, this is what happens when you grow up with only men. You turn into one.

  We bullshitted some more before Pete finished cooking, then we all sat around the table to eat.

  “So,” Jade said, pausing. I looked up with a mouth full of bacon, waiting for her to continue. “I got you a job,” she finished.

  “Oh, Jade, why—”

  “No, stop,” she said, holding up her hand. “I told my boss about your experience, and he wants you to come in today for an interview. And I told him you would.”

  I exhaled with a heavy breath. Pete was trying his best to avoid our conversation, instead paying extra attention to the leftover yolk that was smeared all over his plate.

  “Think of this as you paying me back for feeding your ass for four days,” she added as she stood, taking her plate and mine to the sink.

  It wasn’t that I didn’t want to work with her. I would love to. But she’d made a life for herself without me, and I wasn’t sure if I fit it. I didn’t want to intrude on her new life more than I already was. I could feel Pete’s stare on me, and it made me feel smaller. It was obvious by the look on my face I was uncomfortable with the situation.

  “Babe, maybe Billie can look somewhere—”

  “No, Pete,” I said. “It’s fine. I’ll go see your boss, Jade. Thanks for breakfast.”

  I gave Pete a weak smile, then left before Jade could see the expression on my face. I was pulling out my clothes for my interview when my phone vibrated on the bed. It was a local number but I knew it wasn’t Don or either of my brothers. If anything, they would spoof the number to make it look like it was coming from somewhere in Europe. I swiped the phone to answer, curious to see who it could be.

  “Hello?”

  “I told you that douche-bag would cheat on you, didn’t I?” His thick Irish accent always made my stomach flip. It was a mixture of anxiety and nervousness, and I didn’t understand where it came from.

  “Connor,” I whispered without meaning to. He had many titles, one being my older brother Lincoln’s second in command, the third best con man I’d ever known, and my ex-boyfriend—conqueror of my virginity.

  “Don’t go saying my name like that, darlin’,” he replied in a throaty tone. I sighed. I wasn’t interested in this.

  “How did you know I was home?” I asked. His deep chuckle vibrated against my ear.

  “You think I don’t always know where you are?”

  “Yeah, that doesn’t scream stalker behavior at all.” I grunted as I shifted the phone so it was pressed against my ear and my shoulder.

  Throughout the years, Connor would randomly send me flowers, teddy bears, or even pictures he’d taken of us when we were together. Sometimes, he would mail three names on a piece of paper, noting in his letter that these would be the names of our children. Things like that always gave me a cold shiver down my back. The thought that he could possibly hurt me never crossed my mind, but there was still this very unsettling feeling about his packages. I unzipped my bag and took out a pair of faded jeans and a cream-colored long sleeve V-neck sweater. It was mid-September and still pretty warm outside, but on the bike it got chilly.

  “You have yet to learn the art of subtle sarcasm, aye?” Connor replied.

  “Oh, no I’ve learned it—mastered it, even—I’m jus
t choosing to be forthright about it,” I explained. There was a beat of silence and I wondered if he had hung up. When an awkward amount of time passed, I pulled the phone away from my ear to hang up. That’s when he spoke.

  “I’d like to see you,” he said.

  I closed my eyes as I plopped down on the bed, rattling the old metal coils. Meeting up with him was a terrible idea. Connor wasn’t a bad guy; he was a criminal, but he treated me right when we were together. He always took care of me and was there when I needed him, but he wasn’t who I envisioned spending my life with. He was committed to the life I desperately wanted to escape.

  “I take your silence as a no?” The disappointment in his voice was visceral.

  “Let me get some things in order and we’ll meet up, yeah?”

  “Sure thing, darling. Call me if you need anything.”

  “All right, talk to you soon.” I knew he wouldn’t say bye in return, so I hung up first.

  I laid back on the pale yellow pillow behind me, suddenly feeling a little trapped. If Connor had found out I was already home, it would only be a matter of time before Don came around. Perfect.

  Following Jade’s directions through text, I pulled into the back parking lot of the bar once I spotted it. The neighborhood was full of new, hot and trendy shops and restaurants, bursting with people. It seemed like every establishment had customers coming in and out.

  I parked the Frog in the small space designated for motorcycles. Hopping off, I tugged and slipped off my riding gear before putting it all inside the backpack I always carried. Blush was located on the corner of the street, a prime bar location. A line of black floor to ceiling windows covered the side of the building that looked out onto the busy street. Above the front door, in typewriter lettering, read Blush.