STROKED LONG (7 page)

I traipsed around the store for a short amount of time, my hands in my pockets, perusing the Blu-ray discs for longer than I should have but then finally gave in and headed to housewares where I’ve been stuck for at least half an hour.

Why are there so many options?

Do I really need curtains?

Ruby says they’re a protective shield, that she couldn’t live without them. Why does that keep repeating over and over in my head? It’s been on replay ever since she came over, and when I saw her in the coffee house, it only made the voice in my head stronger as I watched her laugh and joke with Eva. Even though her eyes were bright with excitement as she talked to my sister, they were nothing compared to when they looked at me.

From under the bill of my hat, I could see the intrigue in her gaze, I could see the spark in her pupils when I came up with the name for the gala we will be hosting, and I saw the gold of her irises sing with joy when I shook her hand goodbye.

For some odd reason, this girl is starting to get under my skin, and I’m not sure I like it at all.

“Fuck,” I mutter, looking down at my collection of curtain rods and then turn to the curtains.

White, grey, or black?

Squatting down, I rest the curtains rods on the ground and pick out three different panels; the first is plain white that looks like a gauzy material. The second one is plain grey in a heavier material that looks like it would block out all the sun, and the third is black and white zigzag print which seems almost too fucking girly for me.

Squatting to the ground, I lay them all out on the ground next to the curtain rods and examine them next to the brass. I study the textures and how they mesh along with the multiple combinations I could make with the panels and the rods.

“I have no fucking clue.” I sigh in frustration, scoop everything up and turn to purchase them because I can’t decide just as I run into a cart, knocking me backward, curtains and rods scattering to the floor in a loud clash.

“Geeze oh petes!” a lady says as she comes around her cart. “Bodi?”

Looking up, I see those big brown eyes staring down at me, a kind, yet humorous look in her face.

Ruby
.

“Hey,” I say, scrambling around to gather my things. The heat of embarrassment from being plowed over by a shopping cart caresses my cheeks.

“I didn’t even see you there. I’m so sorry.”

“Not a problem.”

She’s squatting next to me, trying to gather my items as I turn to kneel to accomplish the same thing, clean up the spill of curtain assembly everywhere.

My items finally register in her mind because she stills and sits up, looking at a panel in her hand. Turning to me, she asks, “Are you getting curtains?”

“Sort of,” I gruff out, more embarrassment washing over me. Does she remember suggesting them to me in my condo?

“It seems like you have a lot of options here.”

“Couldn’t make up my mind.”

“Need help?”

I’m reaching for a small tension rod when I still from her offer.

Need help?

Yes, I need so much fucking help, but I don’t want to ask for it. I don’t want to show vulnerability, and I sure as hell don’t want to welcome her into my brand of crazy.

“Nah, I’m good.”

Taking the remaining items from her, I situate them in my arms, feeling clumsy as fuck, and give her a curt nod.

“All right. Well, if you need help, let me know. I’m excited for you.”

Excited about curtains? That seems odd to me, but I brush it off and start down the aisle.

“Oh you dropped your wallet,” she calls out, chasing me down. “Can’t get all those items without a form of payment. Doubtful you can get away with paying with that winning smile of yours.”

I don’t smile. What is she talking about?

She snaps her finger in disappointment. “Darn, I was hoping I would get a peek at it. You’re a tough shell to crack.” She holds up my wallet and wiggles her eyebrows. “Want me to slip it in your pocket for you?”

My eyebrows shoot up from her suggestion, causing her to throw her head back and laugh.

“Oh Bodi, you’re awesome.”
Fuck does she have me pegged wrong.

She continues to laugh and, even though it’s at my expense, the joyful sound echoes through my ears and registers as an almost angelic noise.

I fucking like it.

Placing the wallet in my hand, she steps back and points at one of the rods in my arms. “The tension rod will never work for the kind of curtains you seem to be looking at, and watch out with those white plastic things. They seem inexpensive and like a good bargain, but the minute you hang them up on the wall, they are going to look very cheap in that nice and pristine condo of yours.” With a sweet smile, she adds, “Good luck,” and then goes back to her cart.

Shit. I don’t want the curtains to look cheap.

“Hey, Ruby,” I call out before I can stop myself.

She spins on her heel, hand on her hip, with a knowing smile. “Let me guess, you want my help?”

I gulp and nod just as she clasps her hands, her dress swaying like a bell with her movements. Is it weird to think she looks adorable in those dresses? I’ve seen at least seven of them already, all colorful with sleeves and prints. I don’t know anything about fashion, but what I do know is the dresses she wears frame her body perfectly.

“Let’s start from the beginning. We need to put this all back; it’s not what you want.” She brings her cart in front of me and makes me drop everything in it. “We will put it back as we walk along. Now tell me, Bodi, are we just going to start you out easy? Maybe do one window and see how you like it? Or do you want to go all out?”

“One window,” I say quickly, still unsure if I want to go through with this.

They’re just fucking curtains, don’t freak out.

“Smart choice.” Looping her hand through my arm, she guides me to the curtain panels where she starts looking through the plethora of options displayed. Still holding on to me, she sifts through the ones on display, touching every one of them and talking about their texture and opacity.

Not one thing she is saying registers in my mind because I’m only focused on the way her hand is holding on to my forearm.

Human contact.

I know it sounds stupid and very elementary, but I don’t get much of it, and there is something to say about another human connecting with you, especially when they are as beautiful as Ruby.

Shit.

I’m finally fucking admitting it. She’s beautiful. That wall has crumbled. I try not to show my emotions, let alone acknowledge them, but there is no denying Ruby’s beauty. She has a heart-shaped face with pouty lips and big chocolate eyes, eyes that have not vanished from my mind’s eye since they were circled and encrusted with glitter.

“What do you think?” she asks, turning those coffee irises on me.

In front of me, she’s holding out a muted blue-green plain curtain. The fabric looks like it belongs on a couch and the color is way too vibrant for me. So not my fucking style.

“No.”

“Really?” She raises her eyebrow at me. “It’s the color of water in a pool, I assumed that would be comforting to you.”

“Too bright.”

Studying me, she scans my face and I feel the heat of her gaze of her perusal. “You know, you don’t have to speak like a caveman. It’s not required around me. Full sentences work.”

I don’t acknowledge her teasing. Instead, I fixate on the curtains, wondering if this is a good idea.

I sound like a giant pussy, but fuck, I don’t change anything. I don’t like change. I have a routine, and I stick with it, anything outside of that routine, that norm, is not easy to adjust to. I’m out of my element, and my heart is about to explode in my chest with how rapidly it’s beating.

“Maybe this wasn’t a good idea.” Her grip slips on my arm as I step away, pushing my hands in my pockets. The space between us grows as I back up, unsure of how to respond to her confused look.

“Bodi, watch—”

Her words are cut off as my heel connects with a solid object behind me, sending my body backward and into a shelf of curtains. Metal rods poke my back, splintering my muscles with pain as I fall on my ass. My hands search out something to grab hold of but come up short when I connect with the bottom of the shelf behind me. Thanks to my broad frame, tripped-up racks collapse around me, and packaged curtains blanket me like a downpour of rain . . . but in the fabric sense.

“Oh my God.” With a hand to her mouth in shock, she kneels in front of me and searches my eyes. “Are you okay?”

“Fuck,” I mumble and try to get up, but I’m tangled in all the metal that’s fallen over me.

“Let me help.”

“I’ve got it,” I snap, more from embarrassment than anything.

“Clearly you don’t,” Ruby says, not caught off guard by my temper. Rather, she ignores me and pulls on my arm.

Reluctantly, I allow her to help me up. Packages of curtains tumble off me and onto the floor, as well as all the displays I ran into. It’s a lovely mixture of metal and tiled floors clashing together, ringing out, causing everyone around to stare in my direction. I’m fucking mortified.

“Hey, you’re bleeding,” Ruby points out, looking down at my arm.

Scanning my forearm, I see the scrape where a burning sensation started to develop the minute I crashed into the shelf—fucking idiot. “It’s nothing.”

“You need to get it cleaned out,” she insists.

“I’m fine. I just need to get out of here.”

Panic rises in my chest, everything around me seems to be heightened in my senses. The lights are brighter, shoppers’ voices are louder, the smells of fresh fabric seem overwhelming. Everything is so fucking overwhelming.

“Hey,” Ruby places her hand on my chest. She must be able to feel my rapid heartbeat. “Bodi, take a deep breath.” Concerned eyes stare at me, those big pools of chocolate catch my attention as her hand gently rubs the spot right above my heart. “Can I clean up your arm quickly before you leave? I would like to help you, if that’s okay.”

Her voice is calm, sweet, fucking hypnotizing. Glancing around, my big disturbance doesn’t seem to be as big as it is in my head, because no one is around, it’s just the two of us.

All she wants to do is make sure you’re okay. Give her that for not running the minute you freaked the fuck out.

I nod, letting her lead me to her cart where she opens her purse and pulls out a first aid kit. I can’t help the smirk that graces my face. She carries around a first aid kit?

“Do you always have that with you?”

Looking at me, she notices my smirk, which sets off her smile like a giant bright light bulb. She is
so
fucking beautiful.

“I do. You never know when you will need a Band-Aid. Target can be a hot bed for accidents.”

“Sure,” I respond, my smile fading.

My forearm is twisted in all different directions as she examines the abrasion. “Hmm, looks like you are going to need stitches. Is that going to affect your swimming?”

“What?” I practically shout, turning my arm to look at it. Stitches? No fucking way.

I’m examining the cut when Ruby starts laughing next to me, slapping her knee as if she just told the funniest joke ever. “Oh man, the look on your face was priceless.” Imitating me with a deep voice, she replays my movements and says, “What? Nooooo! Olympics!” Dramatically, she raises her fist in the air and crumbles to the floor, still holding up her arm. As if I acted like that.

I might be a freak, but she’s fucking weird too.

“That’s not how I reacted.”

Using the cart to hoist herself up, she stands tall and straightens out her dress. “Pretty sure that was a very accurate reenactment. Spot on, actually.”

“Not even close.”

“Debatable.”

I shake my head at her, as the tension in my body starts to dissipate. Funny how she can so easily do that to me.

“But seriously, let me get this cleaned up. Can’t have your arm fall off from infection. Can you imagine saying you got an infection from picking out curtains? Not your best day.”

Could be worse, I think, watching her gently clean my arm.

***

“Curtains? What do you mean you got hurt picking out curtains? I didn’t think you liked that frilly stuff.”

Why did I bring this up? I have one task at eight thirty, to check in with Eva and make sure she’s all locked up. Instead of getting off the phone after I hear her confirmation, I start to talk about my day and how I ran into Ruby. Fuck was she happy to hear that. She has too much riding on Ruby and me making a match; it’s starting to get annoying.

“I just thought I would take a look at them.”

“Why?” she asks, her voice completely confused.

“Because.” I don’t want to tell her because Ruby mentioned them, she would never let me live it down.

“Great explanation, bro.”

“It doesn’t matter why I was looking at curtains.”

“It does matter if you almost triggered a panic attack in the middle of Target. Were you thinking about Mom and Dad?”

“No,” I answer promptly.

To be honest, I haven’t come that close to having a panic attack in public for a while. It was frightening at how close I was to full-on debilitating fear.
She held me while the police came into our house, looking for answers. I could barely breathe. She had held me. Cried with me. We’d been crying. So much crying.
When we first lost our parents, panic attacks were an almost everyday occurrence. I could have them anywhere, and they would bring me to my knees, having no control over my breathing or the convulsions to my body. It was humiliating, causing me to hate everything about me. It took a lot of therapy to get me to the point of no longer breaking down in panic. Many, many years of therapy.

So why the hell did the tight grasp I had on my panic slip today in Target?

One word: Ruby.

She does something to me. She terrifies me. I don’t allow anyone to see the real me. The weak me. No one has ever seen my true colors besides Eva and Lauren. No one should ever see my sick brand of fucked-up crazy. I have nothing to offer.

“Bodi, just talk to me.” Frustration rings clear in her voice, making me feel guilty that I’ve laid this burden on her. But fuck, I needed to talk to someone.