Chapter 22

22

Nick

Slipping on my coat, I reached inside the pocket and tossed Blue a treat on my way toward the staircase. While descending, I dialed Lauren’s number, wishing I didn’t have to ask her for a favor. I had to do something right, though. Something I should’ve done the first night.

I drove along East Grand Boulevard until I reached the old abandoned church-turned-hostel. Always hated the idea of Lauren living in such a shit place on the shit side of town, but she claimed she liked it, enjoyed being around other kids her age, and always made a point to remind me that it was better than living on the streets. My intent wasn’t to preach, or try to control her—hell, at nineteen, she had her shit together better than I did at twenty-eight. Just didn’t want her to become another statistic on the streets, and some of the kids she hung out with seemed to be well on their way to that life.

I knocked on the door, tensing at the sound of laughter on the other side. The door swung open to Lauren, hair in disarray, wearing pajama pants and a thin tank top. Behind her, a slightly older-looking Asian girl, in the same slumber party attire, stood holding a cigarette and looking me up and down.

“Nick!” Lauren’s face bloomed with a smile, and she slammed into my chest with a hug. Christ, I hated coming to her after trying to cut ties, but maybe it could be the promised visit—even if I was the asshole who planned to task her with a favor.

“Mmm, who’s he?” The Asian woman blew smoke to the side.

“Was just about to ask the same question.” I sniffed, crossing my arms as Lauren pulled away.

“Jade, this is Nick, my brother from another mother. Nick, this is my girlfriend, Jade.”

“Girlfriend.” Something about the woman rubbed me wrong. She just seemed to have a bigger agenda beneath the surface, and I’d become an expert at reading that shit.

Lauren smiled and rolled her eyes. “For fucks sake, Nick, you’re not my dad. C’mon in, I gotta grab some jeans. Take a seat. Jade, keep him entertained for a minute.” She planted an intimate kiss on the woman’s lips, and I turned my attention toward the window, only looking back once she’d headed into the bathroom.

Her apartment looked like a teenager’s apartment. Tiny, cramped. Claustrophobic. I sat down on the one lone futon, propped in front of the TV—both bits of furniture I’d picked up for her.

Leaning against the wall, Jade continued staring at me, smoking her cigarette. “You’re a Scorpio, aren’t you?”

“What makes you say that?”

“Intense, intelligent eyes. Strong, stubborn jaw. Dark and mysterious. You’re probably a master in the sack. Dominant. In control at all times.” She licked her lips and, with the cigarette dangling from her fingers, scratched her chin. “Sexy as fuck.”

My gaze skated to the closed bathroom door and back. “Aren’t you a lesbian?”

“Bi.” A smile stretched her face before she took another drag. “Men bore me as of late. Lauren’s a wildcat—”

I raised a hand. “I don’t need … to hear this.” Easing back on the couch, I attempted to muster that intimidating, fatherly stare. Not that I wanted to act like Lauren’s father, by any means, but I sure as hell felt wary toward anyone who might have Lauren spiraling into depression. “What do you do, Jade? Student?”

“Yes. Art major, with a minor in Women’s, Gender & Sexuality Studies.”

“Drugs?”

“No.”

“Alcohol?” I sat forward, resting my elbows on my thighs.

“Occasionally.” She shrugged, and blew rings of smoke. “I have an allergy to shitty beer.”

“So, what do you drink?”

“Slovakian, mostly. Guinness on occasion.”

“What do you get out of this?” Hands splayed to the sides, I nudged my head toward the bathroom door. “What do you want from her?”

She tipped her head, brows knitted as though confused by the question. “Love. What else?”

Lauren exited the bathroom, her tightly wound curls pulled back into a ponytail, wearing a Wayne State sweatshirt that undoubtedly belonged to Jade. “Bad hair day,” she said, smoothing her hands over her shiny face that looked like she’d just applied lotion. “Okay, so I’m supposed to go shopping for who now? Your girlfriend?” A wicked smile danced across her face. “Do I get to meet her?”

“She’s not my girlfriend. She’s a … someone I know who can’t get around very well.” I pushed off the couch, tugging my wallet from my back pocket, and removed five hundred in cash, which I handed to Lauren. I hated having to ask her, but fuck if I knew anything about women’s clothes, and she happened to be the one I trusted to do it without too many questions. “Try to get three or four outfits. Something trendy, but not too fancy. Practical. Some shoes. Lingerie. Shampoo. Conditioner. Shaving shit for women. Keep the change.”

“Wait. You want me picking out lingerie?” Her lips curled into her mouth as she smiled. “Do you get to see her in this lingerie?”

“You can get Fruit of the Looms for Women, for all I care. I told you, she’s not my fucking girlfriend.”

“Feisty, feisty.” Lauren cocked her head to the side and glanced back at the other woman. “He seem feisty to you, Jade?”

Jade blew another plume into the air. “Feisty.”

I squeezed my eyes shut in frustration. “I’ll pick them up in a couple of days.”

“Or I could bring them to you. No biggie.”

“I’ll pick them up.” I pointed a finger at her. “Remember. Practical.”

“Yeah, yeah, I get it. Probably hit up some vintage shops downtown. Sure you don’t want me to stop at Lover’s Lane?” Her waggling brows had me groaning and wishing I’d never asked the favor. “I could get those fur-lined handcuffs. A whip.”

“Ooh! Fuck Fruit of the Looms. Edible panties!” Jade chimed in.

“That’s enough.” I stuffed my wallet back into my pocket and stroked my chin. “Look, if you don’t want to do this—”

“Awww, I’m just playin’. Chill the fuck out. Damn, you’re sensitive when it comes to pussy.” She shook her head. “Hey, what size clothes am I supposed to get?”

Fuck. I’d forgotten about that. “I’ll text you the size.”

“Don’t leave me hangin’.”

I strode toward the door, just noticing a topless picture of Jade in black lace panties plastered to the wall. Glancing back, I threw a thumb toward it, but howls of laughter kept me from asking questions. I shook my head. “I’m out.”

“Shit, I love fuckin’ with him,” I heard Lauren say, as I stepped out into the hallway.

Aubree suddenly came to mind—specifically, her black lace panties hanging in the bathroom. I rubbed a hand down my face at the thought of her sitting on the edge of the bed, panty-less under that dress.

Stay away, the voice of reason chimed inside my head.