Starting Fires (7 page)

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Authors: Makenzie Smith

BOOK: Starting Fires
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The next morning, I woke around 10 a.m., tired and restless. After I had a bowl of cereal and drank a cup of coffee, I decided to go get the mail—since I knew no one had in a few days. I slipped on some flip-flops and, still in my pajamas, strolled to the end of my driveway.

Just as I reached the mailbox, Lucas’ door swung open. He and Kate walked out laughing. I quickly averted my eyes and reached in to get my mail. As I pulled it out and started walking back to my house, I peeked in Lucas’ direction. He was standing at his car door, looking over his shoulder at me. His face looked troubled.

I smiled fakely, which I’m sure he knew, and gave him and Kate a wave before heading back into the house. “
Whatever
,” I whispered as I closed the door behind me. Most of the mail was junk, with a letter from my school thrown in. I admit I sulked at the kitchen table as I sipped on a second cup of coffee that I didn’t need. I did my best to think of anything but Lucas, but didn’t know if actively trying to not think of someone still counted.

A knock at my front door jolted me, making me nearly spill my half-empty mug. Wally raced down the stairs like a herd of buffalo, screaming, “I’ll get it.” I heard him open the door, and then in a deep voice mutter, “Well, hello there handsome. What can I do for you?”

I chuckled, until I realized who “
handsome
” probably was. Lucas strolled into the kitchen and smiled at me. “Got a minute?” he asked.

“Sure. What’s up?” I struggled to keep my voice sounding cool and unaffected. He gave Wally the eyes, telling him to leave. My roommate strolled to the fridge grabbed an orange soda then took off up the stairs. I chuckled at him again. The guy was silly.

Lucas sat down in the chair across from me. “How is everything?” he asked. “The car’s not giving you anymore trouble?”

“No,” I said, before taking another sip of my drink, knowing that this wasn’t what he wanted to discuss.

“That’s good,” he said, bringing his hands out in front of him and fisting them together.

“Mmhmm,” was all I offered as I propped my head into the palm of my hand, staring at him.

Lucas was looking anywhere but at me, his hands, out the window, the kitchen island. “I, uh,” he began then stopped himself. “Well, I was just…” He chuckled with what I thought was embarrassment and brought his hand to his mouth, propping his knuckles against it. He shook his head from side to side, contemplating how to say whatever it was he wanted to say. I didn’t feel even a little bit guilty about letting him squirm. “Listen,” he finally looked me in the eyes, “I just wanted you to know that what you saw this morning wasn’t what it looked like.”

There was finality to his tone, as if I should just accept it as fact. I laughed, trying my best to brush this whole thing off. The last thing I wanted was for him to think that he somehow hurt poor little me’s feelings. “Is that what this is about?” I smiled. “Lucas, whatever it was, it’s none of my business. I haven’t even thought about it.” I waved him off and stood from the table. Reaching the sink, I poured my now cold coffee out and reached for the pot on the counter to do the same. Once it was empty, I started rinsing it out with water.

Two strong hands suddenly caged me into the sink, and I felt his torso brush up against my back. My inhale was sharp and I paused what I was doing. His breath was hot on my neck and ear when he whispered. “It wasn’t what you think, Marlowe. If I want a girl to share my bed, I know exactly where I’m going to look.” He moved his hands to my hips and gently squeezed. I put down the coffee pot and barely turned my face to look at him over my shoulder. The movement caused his lips to brush against my ear and I shivered. “I think you know, too,” he whispered.

He’d just put it out there. We’d been harmlessly flirting, but nothing this forward. My stomach tightened and I turned a little more until I could see his face. I brought one of my hands to rest against his neck, caressing his hair as I started to pull his mouth down to mine. I wet my lips. He wet his. Our mouths were a breath apart when Charles came whistling into the kitchen. We both stilled then I turned back around, cursing Charles for ruining this moment.

“Oh hey, Lucas,” he said as he walked to the fridge.

“Hey,” Lucas replied, sounding annoyed. He slowly let go of me and took a step back, raising himself up on the kitchen island.

“I need to go pick up a new bed frame today. Think you can help?”

“Why not?” Lucas huffed.

If Charles knew that we were both shooting daggers into his chest, he didn’t let on. “I’m going right now, if that’s cool.”

Annoyed, I made my way to the living room. From the couch, I could hear them talking, but my inner string of curses was tuning them out.

“See ya in a bit,” Charles called to me from the foyer.

“Yeah, whatever,” I said as he left. Lucas hovered in the doorway then gave me a wave as he followed him.

I didn’t know if I should be mad at Charles or grateful. Part of me wanted to know what Lucas’ lips felt like, but the other part of me was glad he broke the magic. One minute I wanted to have a fling with Lucas. The next I didn’t. One minute I thought I could handle that type of relationship. The next I knew I couldn’t. Either way, it was time Charles and I talked.

 

About two hours and an entire documentary about meerkats later, Charles strolled into the house, carrying a long rectangle box. Lucas didn’t enter behind him. He gave me a chin lift in hello and then made his way up the stairs. After the commercial break was finished and he still hadn’t returned, I decided to go to him.

When I made it to his room, he was taking wooden parts out of the box that definitely didn’t look like a bed frame. “Hey,” he said and continued unpacking it. I stood in the doorway with my arms folded across my chest, scowling at him—willing him to feel the waves of hostility coming off me. He finally turned to me and jerked his head back. “What’s with the look, sourpuss?”

“You know exactly what the look is for,” I said, stepping into the room.

“No, I don’t,” he shook his head as if I was crazy and began separating the pieces.

“Oh, please. Spare me your innocent denial. You’re purposefully being a cock-block.”

Charles laughed, throwing his head back. “A cock-block? What the shit are you talking about?”

“You know exactly what I’m talking about!” I jerked a piece of wood out of his hand and threw it on the bed. “Why are you trying to sabotage this thing with Lucas?”

“Sabotage? I’m not trying to sabotage anything.
If
I were trying to do that, I would have insisted you rode home with me from the bar Saturday night or I would have gone to the bar with you yesterday. Stop imagining things.”

“Well… well,” I stuttered. “You interrupted us in the kitchen and then you asked him to go help you pick up your new bed frame. By the way, this clearly isn’t a bed frame. What are trying to do here?”

“When we got there they told me it wasn’t ready, but since I was there I bought a nightstand I wanted,” he shrugged. “And I don’t know what you’re talking about in the kitchen. When I walked in, it just looked like you two were talking.”

He wasn’t looking at me. And I could tell that this conversation was making him uncomfortable. I took a deep breath to calm my aggression. “Just tell me what this is about. Don’t deny it. This is bothering you, and I don’t understand why.”

Charles sighed then lay on his bed. I sat at his feet and waited for him to come clean. “It’s just… ,” he began then sighed. “You’re better than this, Marlowe.”

“Better than what? Literally, nothing has happened between us.”

“You would just be one of many with him. He dates tons of girls, but in the end sends them packing. I don’t want you to be part of his harem.”

“Harem?” I laughed.

“That’s what we call the girls he dates. Do you want to be known as that?”

No, I didn’t, but that wasn’t what this was about. “Look, I’ve told you that I don’t want a relationship. I’m not looking for love or whatever. This whole big brother, I’m going to step in and protect you thing, it’s sweet, but annoying. I don’t need you to do that. I’m a grown woman, and if I want to start up a thing with Lucas, I will.”

“Fine. Just do something for me first.”

“What?” I sighed.

“Every Monday night we play at the bar. It’s a short set, only thirty minutes or so. Come by at around eleven and see what I mean. See what you’re up against.”

I scoffed. “Why are you acting like I’m some homely girl next door who doesn’t have a chance with him because of all the hot ass chicks he hangs out with?”

“I’m not! And they’re not ‘hot ass chicks.’ Just girls, but he flirts with all of them. If he treats all girls like that, what makes you think you’re special to him? None of the others are.”

His words hurt me. No girl wants to hear that she isn’t special. Secretly, we all think that in some way we are. I couldn’t deny that he had a point. If I saw Lucas with a bunch of other girls treating them all exactly how he treated me, his appeal would dwindle. Even if a boyfriend/girlfriend relationship wasn’t what I was after, I would still want to be at least a little special to the man I spent my time with. I told him I would go, and then left him to finish setting up his new
nightstand.

 

Chapter 6

I
did my best
not to think of what I would see or feel when I went to the bar. I didn’t want to admit that seeing Lucas with another girl might make me upset, but I knew it would. I had a crush on him. Just a crush, but I knew what crushes led to.

Blindness. Thinking that everything a person did was amazing, when it might only be mediocre. Willingness to overlook a person’s bad qualities because you’ve become so enamored with them. I was rebounding and vulnerable, but I convinced myself that—whatever the outcome—it would be good for me.

I dressed in comfortable clothes, purposefully trying to look casual. At 10:45, I left in my Jeep. Pulling into the parking lot, I felt my stomach drop. Cars were everywhere. Standing outside, I could tell that the band wasn’t playing anymore and rock music was pouring out of the speakers. I took a breath and reached for the door.

A drunken couple stumbled out as I came in. I was bombarded with loud laughter, music, clinking bottles, and cigarette smoke. A bar looked much different when you were completely sober and everyone else was borderline wasted. I saw a small opening at the bar and squeezed in.

Kate was serving drinks, and I was surprised when she smiled at me. She held up a finger, telling me to wait a moment. The guy next to me kept pushing his elbow into my ribs, and the girl on the other side kept laughing obnoxiously. Great. I hadn’t even seen Lucas and I was already annoyed.

“You just get here?” Kate asked, making her way over.

“Yes,” I yelled and asked for a beer.

She popped the top and slid it across the bar. “This one’s on me. Your boys are over there.” She pointed to a table in the far corner and I immediately noticed Lucas. A pretty brunette with long flowing hair was sitting on his lap. His hand was resting against her hip and the table kept erupting into laughter. She had on a super short skirt and a low cut top that exposed her cleavage. Her high heels were cute, her makeup was perfect, and her smile exuded confidence. I looked down at myself and frowned. The jeans, sneakers, and tight t-shirt I was wearing didn’t compare to her supermodel beauty.

Turning back around, I found Kate staring at me with sympathy. She reached for my wrist and squeezed it. “If it makes you feel any better, I think you are way hotter than that slut. Don’t let it bother you. It isn’t worth it.”

My face heated. Who said it bothered me? Was it that fucking obvious? I huffed, but reminded myself that she was trying to be nice. “Thanks,” I told her, but I don’t even think she heard me.

While I tried to decide what I should do, I took a big drink from my bottle, loving and hating the way the beer tasted. Didn’t he just tell me the day before that if he wanted a girl in his bed that he knew where to find one?
One
being me? Obviously, he hadn’t meant it. Jackass. A sick feeling came over me as I thought about what would have happened if Charles hadn’t walked in. I’d been so worked up I might have done all kinds of things with him, making this sight even worse. The guy to my left elbowed me in the ribs again. My body moved with the motion, but it didn’t bug me as much this time. It was insult to my injury. He turned to me and apologized.

“It’s no problem,” I said without looking in his direction.

“Lo,” he laughed. “I didn’t know you were here.”

Hearing the familiar nickname, I turned towards him. It was Fontenot, and he was smiling at me. I studied his face again. He was still handsome, but in a harsh way. Cocky, full of himself, douche-bag to the max.

“Can I buy you a drink?” he asked with a grin.

I thought about his offer. A bitter part of me wanted to accept his advances and rub it in Lucas’ face—since his dislike for him was so obvious. A
better
part of me knew how childish and stupid that was. “Uh, I just got one, but thanks,” I said and walked off.

The pretty brunette was still sitting in Lucas’ lap, her arm now draped over his shoulders. Wally, Ian, and Charles were at the table, too. Along with several other stunning women, all much more put together than I was. I felt self-conscious, and hated that feeling. Especially since a man was the source of that discomfort. I took another drink from my beer and pushed through it as I approached their table. The girls noticed me first, sizing me up. After deciding I wasn’t competition, they went back to their flirting.

“Bird!” Charles yelled and raised his beer.

Wally gave me an excited, “HEY!” when he saw me.

“Hey guys,” I smiled, trying my best to look unaffected. “Having fun?”

“You know it,” Wally winked and grabbed the girl to his right’s boob. She giggled and swatted his hand away.

Lucas stood from his chair, causing the girl in his lap to make a surprised huff. Ignoring her, he moved to stand in front of me and smiled. “I didn’t know you were coming.”

“Charles invited me,” I shrugged.

“Oh,” he said. We stared at each other, and I noticed that he looked a little uncomfortable. Good. He should feel like an asshole right now. After clearing his throat he said, “You can have my chair.”

As I sat, he and the girl stood awkwardly in front of the table. After a moment, the brunette looked at Lucas and said, “I want another drink.”

He didn’t respond to her, but pulled an empty chair up and squeezed it next to mine. Realizing he wasn’t going to help her out, the girl huffed and walked towards the bar. Conversation at the table was still going strong when Lucas leaned towards me and quietly said, “You look really nice tonight.”

I
really
wanted to roll my eyes. Instead, I smiled and accepted his compliment, trying to show him that I didn’t care about seeing her on his lap—because ultimately I didn’t care about him. “Sorry I missed the show. Time got away from me.”

“Nah, don’t worry about it. Mondays are short sets anyway. We just do it for fun.” The brunette came back, bringing another chair along with her beer. There wasn’t room for her next to Lucas so she pushed it between Ian and one of her friends. It was hard to miss the stink eye she was giving me. Either Lucas was oblivious to her actions or he was acting like he was because he leaned closer to me and whispered, “I’m glad you’re here now.”

Not believing anything he was saying, I leaned into him and nodded in the brunette’s direction. “I don’t know your friends,” I whispered, unsure if the music or Wally were loud enough to drown out my voice.

Lucas snorted. “I wouldn’t really say they’re friends.”

“Really? The two of you looked really friendly earlier,” I said without thinking and immediately regretted it. So much for convincing him that I didn’t care.

Lucas frowned, running his hand through his hair and down the back of his neck. My face heated with embarrassment and I tried to find something to say that could help me redeem myself. Before I could, Lucas spoke up. “Come with me. This table is too crowded.” He stood and reached out for me.

I didn’t want to go with him. I did want to go with him. I felt like he was a womanizer. I felt like he was being sincere. I hated second-guessing every intention from him. I hated that I cared about him at all. Lucas had player written all over him. He had heartache branded on his forehead. I thought about Mark. About how I had been so in love with him, but in the end it hadn’t mattered. I thought about whether or not the same thing could potentially happen with Lucas. It could. It could happen with anyone and I knew I wasn’t ready to jump back into that yet. I was still too jaded and bitter. And Lucas knew what Mark had done to me. He had to know that seeing him with another girl would erect a wall around me, and that I would try to push him away. Instead of taking his hand I rose from the table and said, “I need to go,” then walked to the exit.

I was in the parking lot and nearly to my car when I heard someone call my name. Slowly, I looked over my shoulder and saw his silhouette. The lights illuminated him from behind as he strutted towards me.

“Think you could give me a ride home?” he asked as he approached. I scanned the parking lot and noticed his car sitting on the other side. He followed my gaze. “Ian wants to hang out a little longer, he’s gonna take my car home.”

“You don’t have to stay until closing?”

“I’m off tonight.”

I was so confused. I felt insecure. And mad. And jealous. And I didn’t like feeling that way. “Who was that girl?” I asked. Instantly, I felt stupid for saying it. I was acting as if we were in a relationship, when we weren’t. We were literally nothing to each other. “Never mind.” I threw my hand up when he started to answer. “It’s none of my business,” I added, doing my best to sound sincere. “I shouldn’t have asked. C’mon, I’m parked this way.”

I heard his footsteps following me, but neither of us spoke. We didn’t speak when we got in the car or on the drive home—not even when he got out. As I was closing my door, he was halfway across the street when he stopped, turned around, and marched right up to me. “If you don’t want other girls to sit on my lap, just say so Marzy,” he said sternly, as if he was daring me to admit that I was bothered by it.

My head jerked back, and I suddenly felt defensive. “I don’t care if other girls sit on your lap, Lucas. In fact, you could let a million girls sit on your lap, and I wouldn’t care.”

He squinted his eyes like that was the most ridiculous thing he’d ever heard. “Bullshit.”

I scoffed. “Get over yourself.”

Annoyed, I started towards my house, but he stopped me with an arm going around my waist. Slowly, he backed me into the car, pressing our bodies together. Despite everything, my breath quickened, and I looked into his eyes. Pure lust shone behind them. When his hands came to my hips, my eyelids drooped, and I knew it was behind mine, too. I wanted him to kiss me. Bad. He lowered his head, our lips were nearly touching, and our eyes were nearly closed. “I’ll be by Saturday to take you to the bar,” he said and stepped away. “Around 3.”

It felt like someone popped a water balloon over my head. That was it? We went from arguing, to almost sucking face, and then right back to business as usual.

I took a deep breath and decided not to lash out or sound disappointed. “Sounds good to me,” I said and headed for my door. He was still standing in my driveway when I went inside.

 

I went the entire week without seeing him. If he came to my house to see the guys, I was either out or in my room. School was starting the next week and I was nervous and excited, so I focused on that. Charles, Wally and I watched movies every night. Each of us getting to pick one. Even though I was the only girl, it reminded me of a slumber party. We would all pile into my bed, Charles and I on the outside and Wally in the middle.

Bear picked some unimpressive action flick and I was a little disappointed in him. He was better than that. The next night was my turn and they groaned, begging me to go mild on the chick flick.

I decided to surprise them and picked Kill Bill. Wally had never seen it and liked it so much that the next night we watched Kill Bill II. He then complained that he didn’t get a night—that my movie stretched into two. So Friday after their show we let him pick one. He told us it was his favorite as he put it into the Blu-ray player. Casablanca came on the screen and I was a little shocked. I had expected something with a lot of swear words, nudity, and stupid jokes. Turns out the man had depth, and I felt like I was getting to see a part of him he rarely showed other people. It made me feel special.

After the movie, I stood in my closet and obsessed over what to wear to Lucas’ bar the next day. I picked some black shorts, a blue, flowy top, and some strappy heels that I never ever wore. I knew that I was trying to impress him, but put it in the back of mind.

Just before Lucas was supposed to arrive, my hair and makeup were done to perfection. Nothing over the top, but I had put effort into looking good. As I waited in the kitchen, I heard a horn honking in my driveway, and walked to the front door to peek out of the blinds. His Buick was waiting for me. Annoyed, I stomped out to his car. Through his window, I could see that he was wearing sunglasses, but knew he was watching me the whole way. I huffed when I got in, so he would know I was aggravated. He didn’t pull out of the driveway right away and I looked at him with wide eyes, signaling that I didn’t understand what the holdup was.

He was smiling and chewing gum. His green shirt was tight across his chest and shoulders, and even though he wasn’t standing, I knew that his jeans hugged him perfectly. Still grinning, he reached his hand over the back of my seat and pulled out of the drive. Once on the road, I looked over at him and watched his jaw work as he chewed. For some reason, that was extremely sexy, and I sighed as I laid my head back on the seat.

“It shouldn’t take you as long today, right?” he asked. Since I was only doing a week’s worth, no it wouldn’t. I told him so. He seemed pleased, and I wondered if he had some place he wanted to be later.

As we pulled into the bar, I turned to look at him. “You’re a liar,” I said.

He laughed, seeming a little confused. “Why?”

“You promised food the next time I came to help. Is there food in there? Because if there isn’t, you’re a liar.”

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