Chapter 10

STEVIE

Another slow day at the shop. They're always my least favorite. I prefer the busy days of never-ending customers. The ones that leave my feet aching by the end of the shift. The ones like today drag on and on, seeming to last forever. It's barely noon, and already I'm counting down the minutes on the antique clock hanging on the wall. Desperately waiting until the big hand to hit 8 pm so I can get home to Grim, make a cup of coffee, and cuddle up on the couch.

Life has just been a lot lately. Not that it's been bad, just more draining than I'm used to. Between waking up way too early in the morning to run the shop and handle my deliveries and staying out late to either get some dick or light a fire, I'm barely getting enough sleep.

Not that I'm not enjoying myself.

I move through the rows of plants in the back checking their soil and ensuring they're all getting tended to properly. Thankfully, none of the saplings from the last shipment died off. They all adapted well to the shop environment and have really started to do well.

Today, despite the fall weather today is a humid day. Not that I'll complain. I haven't had time to do laundry with everything going on, and the warmer weather allowed me to dig out my favorite black denim shorts, which I pared with the cutest vintage band crop. It hangs lower than most of my shirts, but I was feeling a bit risky this morning, and well, I decided to roll with it. After last night, I'm feeling risky. My trusty Chuck Taylors are on my feet, versatile, and comfortable.

Jesse is asking about the hottie from the bar. He's persistent, as always.

"So, what happened between you and Lennox the other night? He seemed pretty into you, and we definitely noticed that he disappeared right after you did."

I shut him down immediately. "Nothing happened."

"Come on, Stevie. You can't keep all the juicy details to yourself."

I roll my eyes, focusing on trimming the basil plants. "Drop it, Jesse." But he doesn't take the hint. "Oh I know something happened. You suck at lying, but besides that, you know he came up to me and Micah last night? Made sure we had a ride home and everything." he explains, "Seven years, Stevie. Seven goddamn years I have lived in the Quarter and going to BB and not once has that man ever approached me or cared enough to make sure I had a ride home. Yet after the night he's seen leaving right after you he suddenly cares? No, girl, something happened. You probably gave that man the best sex of his life, and now he's all fucked up."

A laugh erupts through me as I listen to Jesse's theory. "You have a problem, you know that? Spending so much time worried about my sex life,"

"Oh! And then, get this: he ruined some guy's phone. Just dropped it in a pint of beer like it was nothing. That man has it out for you. Bad, and you can't tell me it's just because you refused his ass, which I still don't fucking understand, by the way," Jesse laughs, clearly amused by the whole situation.

My phone buzzes in my pocket, interrupting my thoughts. I pull it out and see a message from an unknown number.

L: Stevie, go change your shirt.

Confused and instantly on high alert, I freeze, my body stiffening as I glance around the shop. My guard is up instantly, though I don't know why. Sweet Dreams wouldn't mess with me like this. But who else would? How would someone have my number? Looking down at my shirt, I inspect it. Wondering what could possibly warrant some stranger to think I need to change it. The phone buzzes in my hand again.

L: Every time you bend over, you're giving everyone around you a free show of my tits.

What the fuck.

I scan the street outside through the shop window but don't see anyone suspicious. Jesse notices my distraction. "Girl, are you good?"

"Yeah, just some random spam text," I lie, trying to sound nonchalant. I tuck the phone back in my pocket and return to my work, but my mind is racing.

"Dear god," Jesse sighs, "I fucking hate people. So annoying. If it's not emails, it's text or phone calls. Like, seriously, don't they have anything better to do with their time than harass people,"

My phone buzzes again in my back pocket. Pulling it out, I find the same unknown number lighting up the screen…

L: I can still smell you on my skin. Look up.

I do, and there he is—Lennox, standing across the street, a smug grin on his face. Annoyed but mostly intrigued, I grab a cigarette and light it before storming outside.

"I'm going for a smoke," I add over my shoulder to Jesse. The bell on the door chimes as I exit the shop, pushing through the people walking by as I quickly make my way across the street to where he standing.

"You know it's bad manners to stalk people, not to mention creepy," I snap at him, as I reach him. Crossing my arms over my chest, I eye him.

As I speak, a guy passing by drops his keys. I pick them up and hand them back to him. He must take the opportunity to peek down my top like Lennox said because when I stand up straight, Lennox's eyes flash with anger. He steps toward the guy. "Keep your eyes in front of you and off, my girl."

Speechless, my jaw drops with his claim of ownership. His girl? I get in the middle, pushing Lennox back defiantly as my patience wears thin. "Seriously? What the fuck is your problem. There's no need for this pissing contest."

I hand the guy his keys and apologize to him. Lennox's possessiveness is both annoying and strangely thrilling. His girl? Who does he think he is?

"He shouldn't be looking at you like that. No one should," he snarls as he spits on the ground. Clearly agitated.

I take a drag, rubbing my brow with my hand as I fill my lungs with the toxic smoke, "What's your problem?"

"You showing people what belongs to me is my fucking problem," he replies. His tone is dark and husky as he steps toward me.

"It was a fun night, but that's it. A meaningless fling."

He argues, "That was no ‘fling' and you fucking know it," as he rips the cigarette from my lips and stomps on it. "I thought I already told you that shit will kill you."

"You can't tell me what I can and can't do, Lennox. You don't own me," I snap back, tiring of his game. I'll never let another man control me. Own me. Not after Sweet Dreams.

"If I say you're mine, Stevie, then you're mine. Keep pushing, and I'll make damn sure you and everyone else knows who you belong to. Now ─" he adds, pulling his shirt over his head, "Put this on and cover my fucking tits,"

I laugh mockingly. Fuck this guy. Wanting to push his limits, I lift my shirt up. Exposing my bare tits to everyone on the streets, including him. People passing by whisper amongst themselves at the sight. A small group of male tourists who are clearly still drunk from the night before shout and holler, encouraging me to ‘take it off' as they pass by. Clearly, they like what they see.

Averting my eyes back to Lennox, with a proud smirk etched into my face, I find his gaze darkened. But his expression reflects more than just anger and frustration. His eyes are filled with lust. A carnal hunger that I'd be lying if I said I didn't share. Especially after having already had a taste of him and how good he can tend to my needs. Feeling my cheeks begin to flush, I pull my shirt down and smirk coyly at him.

I win.

Without another word, I turn and make my way across the street back to my shop. "Where the fuck do you think you're going?" he calls after me, his shirt still gripped tightly in his hand.

"To get another cigarette," I reply over my shoulder. "Don't tell me you thought stomping on one would stop me?" I laugh, "There's a whole pack where that one came from. Maybe I'll smoke them all while I show everyone in the Quarter my tits."

I can feel the rage in his heavy glare. Searing into my back as I head back across the street to my shop.

Inside, Jesse is leaning against the wall with a shit-eating grin plastered across his face. "What's so funny?" I ask, pretending to be annoyed but unable to keep the humor out of my tone.

"Nothing," he says, grinning. "Just enjoying the show."

"Shut up, Jesse," I reply, brushing past him with a smile. But even as I get back to work, I can't shake the excitement from the confrontation. Lennox might think he's got the upper hand, but he doesn't know who he's dealing with. I'm not like the girls he's probably used to messing with. The ones who silence easily and fall right into his lap like obedient little pets. I'm not desperate for his attention and approval.

I spent too many years being controlled by men, and I'll never allow it to happen again. It's my body, my life, and I will do with them as I fucking see fit. He's mad, but I could tell by that glint in his eyes he is having as much fun as I am. Sure, he wants me to obey him. He wants to own and control me, yet he gets off on my defiance and how unwilling I am to give in to him.

I've become a game to him.

Much like the game of fire between myself and this mystery person. Both are fucking thrilling, though; I don't know which one I like more just yet.