Poison Me Sweetly (5 page)

My arms wrap around my waist, and I am crumbling in on
myself. “Go away,” I whisper thickly as a single tear makes a lonely path down
my cheek. It's not really Micah, I tell myself. He's not really here. He's just
a figment of my imagination that my mind has conjured up to torture me. I wish
it had been me that died in the accident. It should be Micah living in this
apartment.

Micah slowly rises from the couch, his solemn eyes
holding mine.

Even though he's not real, I still scramble backwards.
I move so fast that I trip over my own feet and fall backwards on my butt, my
eyes wide and tortured as I stare up at him. I'd give anything to throw myself
at him, to feel his arms around me one more time. I miss his bear hugs, and the
way he'd always yank on the tip of my ponytail affectionately. The last time
I'd tried to touch him, only to feel the empty, unforgiving space of thin air,
I'd lost it for two days. Two days of suffering, of refusing to leave the
apartment no matter how much the guys had tried to coax me out of my dark mood.

Micah squats down before me, careful not to get too
close. “You need to live for both of us. Quit trying to dig your own grave,” he
tells me in a heavy voice.

“Why are you doing this to me?” I ask brokenly as I
gaze up at him. I'm not really talking to him though, the question is directed
at my subconscious.

Micah answers me. “Someone has to. You keep yourself
closed off to everyone. You avoid mom and dad's calls—”

“Shut up!” I shriek, covering my ears as I feel my
sanity slipping.
He's not here. He's not Micah. This isn't real.
I can't
sit here and have a conversation with the ghost of my brother that I can't seem
to let go. I'm slowly and surely going insane.

I scramble to my feet and rush into the bathroom where
I slam the door shut, locking it for good measure. I stare wildly at it for a
long second, half expecting him to walk through it. When he doesn't, I spin
around and yank back the shower curtain. With a flick of my wrist, I turn on
the water and start the shower. I step into the spray—still fully clothed. I
sit down in the tub, drawing my knees up to my chest as my head drops forward
to rest on them in defeat. Icy cold water soaks into my skin, seeping into my
bones. I sob brokenly while trying to drag myself out of this insane episode I
am having.

I'm starting to see him more and more. I'm scared to
death that I really am losing my mind. How long do I have before I lose it
completely? Will I be trapped in my mind forever? Will I get what I want—my
brother back—even if it's only in my imagination while my body lies
unresponsive in a psych ward? I've known for a while now that my despair will
be my ultimate destruction.

By the time Wednesday rolls around, I've managed to
drag myself out of my funk. Mostly. It's still there, the image of Micah
sitting on the couch—it taunts me. Thankfully, I've managed to pull myself out
of the dredges of my darkness all on my own without anyone knowing about it.
I'd avoided everyone yesterday and claimed to be super busy if anyone text
messaged me.

One of these days, Ace, Jeremy, or AJ will go too far,
crossing the boundaries that I've set. I fear that day. The last few times I've
lost it and given myself up to the darkness that haunts me, they've been right
beside me, eyes grim, jaws clenched as they fight back the urge to say
something that might make me bolt. And they know I will, too. I don't want them
to care about me. When people care, they do stupid stuff. Like Micah. He's gone
because he loved me.

I don't want love from anyone. I don't want to be held
accountable for their actions. I don't want to be the reason that they do
something so drastic that it can never be taken back. I don't want to love
them, either. Loving means losing. Being abandoned. Because they always leave.
Either in death, or they abandon you when you need them the most. Either way
you look at it, love hurts.

The minute things go too far with the guys, I'll be
gone. I'll run as if the hounds of Hell are on my heels. I made this perfectly
clear to them last year when Ace had gotten under my skin, pressing for answers
to questions he had no business asking. I'd evaded him for a full month. After
that, the boundary I keep them at became pretty clear, and they've been careful
ever since. I don't know why they stick around. It's not as if they are getting
anything out of our 'non-friendship.' I'm not a deep conversationalist. I don't
do sweet things for them. Hell, I tend to bitch and moan at them, always ready
to take them down a peg because it's fun. I suppose Jeremy's getting a little
extra out of the deal since we have a bit of 'friends with benefits' going.
Jeremy's not as bad as Ace, but he certainly gets around, so I know I'm not the
only one he sleeps with. That’s why I continue to sleep with him once in a
while. I know he won’t grow attached.

The thing is, they shouldn't put up with me and my
shit. The fact that they do, tells me something is going to have to change
sooner or later.

“You have two more tables,” Brandi tells me as she
walks past, pulling me out of my dark thoughts.

I nod, making my way through the restaurant until I
approach my assigned section for the evening. I've only been working for about
thirty minutes since my last class of the day ended at three-fifteen. It's now
going on four. Pretty soon the restaurant will be crowded, and I'll be running
around with nothing but orders swirling around in my mind. I'm looking forward
to it.

A couple my age sits in one of the earlier booths that
had been available, and they seem to know exactly what they want. I quickly jot
down what they’d like and disappear to the kitchen to place the order with our
cook. I fill their drink orders and make sure they are content before moving on
to the booth around the corner.

I can't help but do a double-take when I see who's
sitting in the booth. It's Caleb, and across from him sits a young girl, probably
no more than eleven-years-old. The girl is unexpected because last I knew,
Caleb doesn’t have family on the West Coast. So how does he know her?

Caleb seems just as surprised as his eyes flicker over
me, drifting over my name tag briefly before his face shifts into a warm grin.
“Zoey, I didn't know you work here,” he says in his lightly accented voice.

The sound of it goes straight to my southern region,
and I mentally curse myself. What is it with men with accents? I smile
politely. “It's not something I announce, and it's never been brought up.” I
glance at the menus that Brandi had already placed before them, and look at
them both, not wanting to exclude the young girl. “Do you need some time to
decide what you would like?”

The girl looks up, and as her sad brown eyes lock on
mine, I feel my chest tightening in reaction. She's too young to be carrying
the weight of the world in those big light brown eyes. There's a hint of
uncertainty about her, and I quickly take in her mid-back dark brown hair, and
her scrawny, pre-pubescent body. Her clothes look well-worn, and the way her
shoulders hunch betrays she's uncomfortable. Is it Caleb that makes her feel
that way or the atmosphere?

“What would you like, Micaela?” Caleb asks, his tone
deliberately light but full of warm affection.

The girl—Micaela—blinks and drops her gaze as she
stares at the menu, her teeth chewing her bottom lip. “Um. Whatever you're
having,” she says quietly.

I watch Caleb hide a frown. He seems to hesitate, as
if he's not sure if he should order for her or pry to find out what she likes.
It's obvious he cares about this young girl, and it's very clear she's gone
through something traumatic. Something that's making her insecure and timid. I
hate it when people push, so I act without thinking.

I squat down so that I am closer to her eye level.
“You
wanna
know what my favorite dish is?” I ask,
keeping my tone cheerful. She looks up at me, eyes curious now. “I love the
cheeseburgers. They are killer. Especially with all the dressings. I like mine
with bacon, though. And the fries. They aren't those scrawny little fries that
go limp when you pick them up. We do the wedges. Can't beat potato wedges. When
I'm in the mood and can twist Ralph's arm in the kitchen, I make him make me a
huge chocolate milkshake to go with it since it's not on our menu. He makes a
mean milkshake, no one does it better than him. I swear, I eat this meal three
times a week since I'm a lousy cook, and I never tire of it,” I tell her as I
wink.

Micaela's eyes brighten slightly, and she looks at
Caleb hesitantly, as if asking if she can order what I'd just suggested.

“Sold,” Caleb says easily as he hands me the menus.
“We'll take two orders of burgers and fries. And the milkshakes if you can
twist Ralph's arm,” he says with a crooked grin.

I take the menus and smile. “Done. Anything to drink
while you wait?”

Caleb looks at Micaela, who shakes her head no. “We're
good,” he says.

“Your meal should be out shortly,” I tell them before
I move off to the next booth where a gentleman is signaling for a refill.

Ralph shoots me a dirty look when I put in the order
for milkshakes but doesn't say a word. I have him wrapped around my little
finger. And I wasn't kidding when I said he makes a really good milkshake. I've
tried to make them myself but failed miserably. Ralph's my go-to guy when I'm
in the mood for one. I busy myself for the next fifteen minutes, making sure
everyone seated in my section is comfortable and has everything they need. The
few times I pass Caleb and Micaela, I see that they seem to be caught up in a
serious conversation, their voices too low for me to catch. As I work, I wonder
what their story is. Caleb seems more like a playboy than anything. The fact
that he's sitting here in the early evening with a young girl has me slightly
bewildered. Shouldn't he be getting ready for a date or something?

When their order is up, I carry out a tray, then
carefully unload their meal on the table before setting the large milkshakes in
front of them.

Caleb looks impressed, his eyes lifting to mine with a
slightly roguish gleam in them. “Looks like I owe you one.”

The sexual innuendo in his tone isn't lost on me, and
I shoot him a look. “You have nothing that I want or need,” I say lightly. I
turn my attention to Micaela, deliberately dismissing him. “I put bacon on the
side in case you want to try it.”

She smiles up at me, and when her lips curve upwards,
I can see that she's going be quite the heart breaker when she's older.
“Thanks,” she says almost shyly.

The answering smile I give her is genuine. “You're
welcome. If you guys need anything, let me know.”

“Thanks, Zoey,” Caleb says a smile.

I give him a brief smile back before I walk away from
their table as fast as politeness will allow. The last thing I need is to get
involved with that womanizer. Not that I'm worried about my heart, that's been
shattered. It no longer functions properly where emotions are concerned. I'm
more concerned over how good the sex would be, and that I'd become addicted to
it. It's bad enough I mess around with Jeremy more than I should. I don't need
to develop something along those lines with Caleb. I have a feeling that he
doesn't understand the concept of boundaries, and that just won't work for me.

I'm working at Grendel's again on Friday, when I get a
text message from Ace inviting me to hang with him and his friends at some bar
where a band is playing that night. I quickly confirm that I'm coming, and that
I'll be there around nine before I dive back into waiting tables. The place is
packed, and Lonnie almost has me agreeing to work another hour before I stand
firm and tell her I have plans.

I
need
to go out tonight. The tension from
earlier this week is weighing heavily on me, and I just need to let loose, have
some alcohol, and just let the tension disappear. This is a sick cycle that I
go through, one that's becoming shorter and shorter as the weeks slide by. Now
is the time to forget it all, and take a much needed break from the desolation
that haunts my every step.

By the time I reach my apartment after my shift, I'm
running behind, and I quickly hurry inside to the shower. I can hear music
coming from the apartment next door. I'm betting everyone is already there,
anxious to leave and get the night started. Instead, they’re stuck over there
waiting on me. My shower is quick, and I dry myself off before walking naked to
my bedroom. I pull open my top dresser drawer and dig through my lingerie. Not
much interests me now days, but I've still managed to keep up on my lingerie
obsession. The only new items that enter my apartment are either lingerie or
clothes. I could care less about any other materialistic stuff.

I decide on a fire engine red lace bra that enhances
my already ample cleavage. The matching panties are
cheekies
—little
lace shorts that ride up my butt cheeks in the back. After I wiggle into them,
I walk back to the bathroom to work on my hair. When my phone chimes, I hurry
to my room to grab it. I scan the text.
What's the hold up?

Ace is always so impatient. I quickly text back,
I'll
be over in five. What bar?
Even as it chimes, notifying me of a new text, I
set the phone down and grab the blow dryer so that I can get ready. Once my
hair is dry and my curling iron is warming, I read it.
Playground.
It's
a popular college bar located downtown. My eyebrows furrow. I'm in the mood to
dress up tonight, but the bar is more casual than upscale. I shrug it off. I'll
wear what I want, and if I stand out in the crowd, all the more better.

I’m quick with the curling iron, and then after two
minutes of deliberation in front of my closet, I pull out a casual, but skin
tight, red mini dress. It's Friday night, and I plan on being naughty. And no,
I don't mean with Caleb. I'm staying away from that one.

Once I pull on the black and red wedges that make my
legs look even longer than they already are, I grab my fake ID, cash, and my
apartment key before slipping them in my bra. There. All set. I leave the
apartment and walk down the hall to Ace and Jeremy's.

I walk right in, and Ace looks up while the others
lounge around and keep talking. His eyebrows lift as his gray eyes scan me from
head to toe. He walks over with a knowing glint in his eye. “On the prowl
tonight, are we?”

“What else am I going to do on a Friday night? Can I
ride with you?” I ask as I adjust the short hem of the dress that clings to my
toned thighs. All that running has made my legs firm and sleek. No jiggles on
this girl, unless you count my breasts. But those are meant to jiggle when they
are full C's.

“Yeah,” Ace says in reply to my question before he
turns to the group. “Hey, let's pack it in.”

Everyone makes their way to the door, and I smile in
greeting at Bev and Jeremy. AJ's not with tonight, I see. Disappointment sweeps
through me. I'm not real close to the others. In fact, most of them grate on my
nerves. Ace, Jeremy, AJ, and Bev are my favorites. My eyes happen to land on
Caleb, and I see his blue eyes are focused on my breasts with unabashed
longing. Ah, looks like Caleb's a breast man. I can't help but smirk inwardly
at the realization. Tonight's going to be a long night for that one. I don't
mind doing a little
teasin
’, but I certainly won't be
screwing him tonight.

Since he's so busy 'eye-fucking' my rack, I let my
eyes roam over him. He's wearing jeans that fit in all the right places. His
shirt tonight is dark with a few buttons going down the front center. The first
three are unbuttoned, giving me a glimpse of his tanned skin at the base of his
throat. There's a part of me that longs to toy with those buttons. I want to
open them up and bare that deliciously hard chest so that my lips can trail
down it.

Damn him.

I spin around before he can notice my own little bout
of 'eye-fucking' and walk out of the apartment with Ace and the others. I can
feel his eyes on me, but I ignore him as we take the elevator down, then exit
out the back door to the parking lot.

Jeremy slings a friendly arm around my shoulder and
hugs me close. “Well, aren't you a sight for sore eyes,” he says as his eyes
roam over my breasts, which are barely contained by my dress.

I glance up at him, smiling coyly as I lean in to say,
“The shows even better underneath.”

He sucks in an audible breath, eyes darkening as they
drag up from my cleavage to meet my gaze. “It
gonna
be like that tonight?”

“Maybe.”

His eyes search mine for a second longer as we pause
near Ace's gray Hummer. “Just let me know when you figure it out,
Zo
.”

The look in his eye has me almost faltering. What am I
doing? I've always known Jeremy is game for some screwing, and he always waits
for me to make the first move. But I'm not even sure if I want to be with him
tonight, and here I am tempting him? It's wrong.

“
Yo
, shoot the shit later.
Let's get going,” Ace calls to us as he slides into the driver's seat of the
Hummer. I blink, my eyes moving away from Jeremy's to see that Ace is now
leaning over the passenger seat, pushing the door open for me impatiently.

Jeremy nods at me before he turns to walk in the
direction of his own vehicle.

I climb in and realize I'm going to be flashing a lot
of thigh tonight. I tug the fabric down slightly before shutting the door.

Ace starts the Hummer up, glancing briefly at my
thighs before shaking his head as he backs out of the parking space. “Who's
that dress really for tonight? Jeremy or Caleb?” he asks bluntly as he pulls
out onto Clark Avenue.

I scowl. “What makes you think it's for Caleb?”

“Z, you can practically cut the sexual tension with a
knife when you're in the same room.”

“I don't screw every attractive guy I come across.”

“Yeah, you do,” he says as he reaches out and turns on
the radio, keeping the volume low.

“I do not,” I say indignantly. I like sex, but that
doesn't make me a slut. I prefer promiscuous.

“A word of warning,” he says as he glances at me from
across the shadowy interior of the Hummer. “Don't be pitting Caleb and Jeremy
against each other when it comes to your bed,” he says gruffly.

I'm struck speechless as I stare at him, because Ace
has never been one to comment about my sex life. He's never approached me about
what I've been doing with Jeremy. He always looks the other way, making it
clear what I do is none of his business.

“Where the hell did that come from?” I ask.

Ace doesn't look at me as he keeps his eyes focused on
the traffic before him. “Jeremy and I are tight. And Caleb's getting there.
He's a good guy, and we all like him.”

“What does that have to do with me?”

“Z, you can't fuck them both. You and I, that shit
didn't work, and we get that. It was pretty easy to sweep under the rug. But
you're still screwing Jeremy on and off, and Caleb's too new to know how to
deal with you. Shit could get real ugly if things start getting complicated.”

“I would have to care in order for it to get complicating,
Ace.”

“It might be that easy for you, but it may not be for
them,” he points out.

Alarm starts to rise within my chest, and I stare at
Ace worriedly. “Has Jeremy said something?” I demand.

Ace looks at me sharply, noting the panic on my face. He
curses and reaches out, grabbing my knee firmly to try to calm me down. “No.
No,
Z. He's never said anything about what you guys do. I'm just saying that we're
a tight group. You really think
it's
okay to be
screwing more than one of us? You really want to test those waters?”

I'm aware of his warm hand just above my knee, but it
doesn't send my heart into overdrive like it would have if it were Jeremy or
Caleb. Ace and I had our thing a long time ago, and we are so beyond not
compatible that it's laughable now.

I sigh, adjusting the seatbelt over my chest where
it's digging into my left breast. “I have no intention of getting involved with
Caleb.”

“Does he know that?” Ace asks as his hand leaves my
knee to grip the steering wheel again.

“I've made it clear.”

“And Jeremy?”

I look at him quizzically. “Why now are you asking
about us? We've been messing around for almost a year, and you've never said a
word about it.”

He's silent for a moment before he seems to choose his
words carefully. “You guys get into too much of a routine, and you're asking
for trouble.”

My brows furrow as I think over his comment. Then, my
thoughts shift to Jeremy's expression when I'd teased him. His reaction had
been instantaneous, he was ready to go if I was. No questions asked. He'd
probably avoid hooking up with some random woman tonight if he thinks I might
be in his bed later. My teeth sink into my bottom lip. The sex has always been
really good between us. I let him get away with more than I allow the other
casual screws. That's because I trust him.

Aw shit.

I see where Ace is going with this conversation. If
Jeremy and I continue as we are, things will eventually go deeper. It's
inevitable. He'll start to care too much, or I'll get to the point where nobody
else is appealing, because it's Jeremy's hands I want on my body.

“Fuck,” I mutter under my breath as the back of my
head drops back against the headrest.

Ace is silent, not questioning me about where my head
is at. The rest of the drive to Playground is silent. Neither of us speak again
until Ace cuts the engine and looks at me. “Let's just keep this little
conversation between us.”

“Talking about it once was bad enough,” I say as I
open my car door, then cautiously try to climb out without having the hem of my
mini dress ride up to my waist. Charlie happens to be walking past, and he
comes over and simply settles his hands on my waist, lifting me down easily.
“Thanks, Charlie,” I say with a grateful smile.

He flashes me one of his smiles before running a hand
through his unruly short brown hair. I can't resist standing up on tip-toe to
ruffle it again. Charlie's more tolerable than Dillon and Jake. He's more
reserved, and I swear there isn't a cocky bone in his body.

I don't bother looking around for either Caleb or
Jeremy. Instead, I walk beside Charlie and Ace as we make our way towards the
large building. The bouncer at the door barely even glances at our IDs as he
waves us on inside.

As we enter the bar, my mind is distracted as we hit
the bar for drinks first before finding a place to stand. All the booths and
tables have been taken, so now
it's
standing room
only. I sip my drink absently, my mind unable to move on from the conversation
I'd had with Ace on the way here. I've never considered Jeremy's feelings
before. He knows the drill. He knows where I stand with him and with men in
general. But that doesn't necessarily mean he agrees with it.

The frown is impossible to hold back as I stand with
the group along the outskirts of the room. The dance floor has been cleared on
the opposite side of the bar, and the band's equipment is set up and ready to
go. Music plays over the speakers overhead as people mill around, laughing and
drinking as they wait for the night's entertainment.

Warm hands slide around my waist, and I'm gently
pulled back against a familiar chest. Tingles run up my spine, and I know I
should pull away from Jeremy. It's not fair to tease him when I no longer have
any intention of leaving with him. And yet I can't pull away, my body relaxes
against the hard muscles behind me because he's so familiar. My body has always
fit against his perfectly. Jeremy's hands leave my waist to settle on my
shoulders before they begin to lightly massage my tense muscles.

How the hell am I supposed to pull away when he's
doing that to me? My head drops back against his shoulder as a sigh of pleasure
escapes me.

Jeremy's cheek rests against mine as he says lowly in
my ear, “I can see all the way down your cleavage.”

My breath hitches, and I slowly straighten, not saying
anything as I finish off my drink. I've opened a can of worms tonight. What had
I been thinking earlier? I know
exactly
what I'd been thinking. There's
a void in my chest where my heart used to be, and I want to use Jeremy tonight
so I can forget. Forget the hurt, the pain, the guilt...