“I pawned the last of my stuff, all right?”
It was embarrassing enough, not to mention sadder than I anticipated, that I needed to pawn things that had sentimental value. Admitting it to Calvin, though? Well that just felt like the pit of humiliation and despair.
“Sorry.” The word came out on a rushed exhale as his rigid posture slowly relaxed. “It’s just, the fucking Crusaders. They’re not gonna let the death of Squeaker go unpunished, never mind the shit with Savannah. It’s not safe for you to be out there alone.”
He shook his head, raking a hand through his hair as another sigh relaxed his broad shoulders even further. “Just remember what they did to Maisie, and what they had planned for her.”
Cal’s words had the desired effect, and I slammed my eyes shut as the memories of Maisie’s torn clothes and bruised arms attacked me. I didn’t want to end up a victim of The Crusaders, which was why I was trying so hard to stay away from the drugs.
But part of me knew that what happened to Maisie was vengeance, not business. I owed them money and that was business, purely transactional. Capitalism at work, as my father would say.
“You don’t have to worry about me, Cal. I’ll be fine.” And I wouldn’t impose on the Ashby family any longer than I needed to. They had their own trouble, and they didn’t need mine adding to the mix.
“How about some breakfast?”
Cal flashed a sweet smile. “How about I make you breakfast?”
“Sure. Whatever.” I slid onto a stool at the island with a mug of coffee he had brewed waiting for me. I watched Cal move around the kitchen with the grace of athletes and dancers, while I tried to come up with different plans that would help me stand on my two feet with as little money as possible.
The way he moved, so freely and easily, without any self-consciousness, was suddenly attractive to me. Really, stupidly attractive. Suddenly, all I could think about was Cal’s big hands, his lean wiry muscles, his full lips when they pulled into a playful grin. It was pure physical attraction, plain and simple.
Yes, I was attracted to Calvin Ashby. I wanted him. I felt it in the way my stomach tightened and trembled, my nipples beaded the way they had when Wyatt sucked on them one wild night. It was an inconvenient attraction given the deal we made. And the fact that I wasn’t technically honoring that deal, and the even bigger fact that we were wrong for each other.
But watching the way he handled himself in the kitchen, the playful smile on his lips as if the act of cooking amused him, none of that mattered. I wanted Cal, and I wanted to finally have something I wanted. For once. Be bold, I repeated mentally at least a dozen times to get my confidence up enough to ask one important question.
“Do you find me attractive, Cal?”
“I used to.” The words came out easily enough, but Cal refused to look at me, keeping his focus on the skillet sizzling over a high flame. “But you’re skinny as fuck now and strung out. And that’s exactly how you look.”
Skinny. Strung out. Those words sliced at my skin like the smallest, sharpest blade, leaving shallow stinging wounds that hurt more than they should.
“You know what, Cal? Screw you; no, fuck you! Yeah, that’s right, fuck you!” It felt good to let go of some of that anger. I grabbed the hem of my t-shirt and tugged it over my head.
“That’s right, fuck you! Sorry I’m not gorgeous and curvy like the club bitches you probably take home when you can pull yourself away from your precious computer.” I let out a bitter laugh and sent my bra flying at his face.
“Bonnie, please. Stop this.”
I shook my head, my eyes wild and my mind too muddled to talk me out of anything. “Stop what? You think I’m too ugly and too skinny, and I’m fine with that. I think your hair is too…red.”
“Okay.”
“And I think you’re…whatever!” I couldn’t think of anything smart and witty to say, so I unfastened my jeans and shoved them over my hips and down my legs, kicking them away like they might bite me. Next went my off-white panties until I stood there in the middle of Cal’s kitchen, naked and vibrating.
Angry and humiliated.
“Bonnie. Please.”
“No.” I shook my head, feeling tears begin to sting the back of my eyes. I knew I had to get away. Fast. “Don’t worry about it. You made your feelings clear and I’m…I’m sorry.”
If he said anything after that, I didn’t hear it because I gathered up my clothes and ran up to my temporary room and locked myself inside for the rest of the day.
Chapter Sixteen