Page 60 of Toxic Wishes
“A pipe burst while we were away on vacation, flooding our whole kitchen. We have wood floors, so they’ll have to replace the floors and the plumbing. I’m not sure how long it will take, but I’m guessing around three weeks, as long as everything goes smoothly.”
“ I have all my stuff in my suitcase. I can just go back to my parents house. I don’t want t-”
“No, I don’t w-” I pause before I realize what I’m about to admit too. I take a breath and rephrase what I was about to say.
“I told you it’s fine. Plus, won’t your parents think it’s strange if you go back there after being gone a whole week?”
She shrugs, “maybe, but it’s not like they would care either way.”
Her eyes, I see it. It’s her eyes that gave her emotions away, and with eyes like that, she should be lighting up when it came to talking about her parents, but it’s like someone took a pin and stabbed her with it, deflating all hope that ever existed within her.
“I gave Josh my word, so it’s not a big deal. You can even stay in the main house if you want,” I point to the stairs. “I have another room on the second floor. I know it gets cramped in that apartment, so it’d be no problem.”
“Oh no, I’m more than happy to be in the apartment. I would feel imposing on you guys if I stayed in the main house. Plus, I wouldn’t want your son to think, you know.”
“To think what?” I wrinkle my nose at her.
“Ya know, think we were dating. I’m not sure what you told him.”
“I told him you were my brother's friend and I was helping you out.” Which was the truth. I didn’t mind looking at her. It’s been a while since I’d had a girl around who was not here only for my needs or just for the weekend.
“Oh.” She looked down, and there it was again, those sad fucking eyes. What was this girl's deal? Why was she so, sad?. I mean it made me wonder what kind of childhood she had?
“Thank you for dinner.” She scoots her chair back, and I have to force my eyes not to stare at her ass. She had a perfect body. She was short, but all the fat was in the right places. And if she were tall, everything would be accented more. Maybe God made her short because that perfect ass would be more brutal to ignore if it was on a giant frame of a woman.
“You’re welcome.”
“Tell Bodie Bear good night when you tuck him in bed tonight.” An amused smile forms, but it’s gone in an instant.
The way she said it made my heart break a little. She spoke in a soft, low tone like she wished she had been tucked in at night by her parents.
“I will.” And at that, she left the kitchen and walked through the back door out to the apartment. I mindlessly chewed on the crust I left from earlier, thinking about how this may not be a good idea, but the brains in my pants ignored the brains in my head, and the feeling in my gut was not getting any recognition today either. I continued to chew the stale, bleached white bread as I stared into the nothingness.
When I walked toward the kitchen the following day, I heard clanking sounds. It was seven thirty in the morning. Was she cooking already?
Her ass was the first thing I saw. She shook it from side to side as she listened to the song blaring in her earbuds. Even from here, I could tell it was a song by Mariah Carey. I stare at her backside, mesmerized as if someone injected my body with drugs to physically stay planted in one spot and not move, not even blink.
Lord help me, I’m going to hell.
She wore yoga pants and a tank top. She still had on her tennis shoes. It didn’t shock me that she got up to run or work out this morning. I knew a body like that didn’t get sculpted by not putting the work in daily. She lifted up onto her tippy toes to grab a plate, and from the side I could see her muscles clench. She even had abs. I was dedicated to working out even in the offseason, but this girl beat me by far. And she wasn’t even getting paid to do it. She worked out because she wanted to. No girl I know would get up at the crack of dawn and dedicate themselves to getting the body they wanted. Most women just wanted me to pay for a butt lift, tummy tuck, or whatever else they thought they needed.
This girl worked for her body.
I walk up beside her and removed one of her airpods.
“Good morning,” I say softly. She blinks rapidly, looking at me with those doe eyes. God, what those eyes would look like as she looked up at me with those full lips wrapped around my cock.
That’s it. I needed to get laid. Maybe calling Heidi was not such a bad idea after all, because we all know calling Namoi would be strange at this point. She had no idea Abigail was living in my apartment, but that was also before my kitchen had to be renovated.
I grabbed the plate she was struggling to get, and she continued to look at me as if she wasn't sure why I was helping her or why I got so close to saying good morning.
Hell, if I knew either. Come to think of it, this is the closest I've ever been to her. I watch her chest move up and down as she breathes in and out, and I can see a faint line of sweat around her hairline, making the curls even tighter in her messy bun. She smelled of coconut and sweat, and all I wanted to do was taste that sweet pussy of hers to see if it matched the scent.
“You looked like you were struggling,” I finally said. She stared at me for a moment, like I had said something offensive. Taking the plate out of my hands, she said, “Thanks, and good morning.”
“There’s coffee if you want some.”
She read my mind. “Yes, I do.” I padded over to the coffee machine and saw a coffee mug lying next to it as if she thought of me. The aroma of roasted Arabic beans woke my senses up.