Consumed (Consumed #1)
Page 12I frown a little, but I never take my eyes off him. So this whole thing is really about him, not me? Why do I fall into that portion? Why does he care about me? From where I’m sitting, he seems so vulnerable and young.
“I keep touching you because I can’t stop and like I’ve said before, I will hurt you and soon it’s going to be you that has to tell me to back off because my resistance is running out.” His eyes narrow in. “If you don’t push me away and you decide to let me in... Remember that I don’t do girlfriends and I don’t do feelings. If you get hurt, it’s on you. Not me.”
The weight of his words rest on my chest and I’m frustrated that he thinks I’d let him in after everything he just said. Maybe I should tell him to back off now...that would save me the trouble of doing it when he decides to let himself go after me.
“I don’t want to be one of those girls.” I say quietly. He raises an eyebrow and I continue. “The girls in the gym that come for you and you send them away... I don’t want to be one of them. You disrespect women.”
His eyes brighten and a wide smile spreads across his face. He genuinely finds what I said amusing. “No, I treat them how they want me to treat them. They want to fuck, so I fuck them. That’s it.”
“And if one of them wants more from you?”
“They’d have to be pretty special to change my stance on relationships.” He throws his toothpick onto the table. “No one has tried to get to know the real me, but I take full blame for that.”
“So tell me about the real you.”
He winks at me. “Nice try.”
“You brought me to dinner, but we can’t talk about you?”
He shakes his head. “I brought you to dinner to apologize and to give you a heads up. That’s all.”
I press the fork into my finger to relieve some of my anger. God! Why is this man so difficult?!
“Well, message received.” I drop the fork, grab my clutch and rise to my feet, but before I leave I turn to him. “I don’t need a guy like you in my life.”
“A guy like me?”
“Yes. I’ve already had someone that sleeps with everything that moves and quite frankly, I don’t think I can stomach another. You can take your dinner, your apology and your heads up and you can shove them up your ass because I don’t want you. I don’t want you now and I won’t want you next week. I hate myself for even thinking that I can have a little bit of fun after breaking up with my boyfriend of six years.”
I storm from the restaurant and through the car park. I’ll walk home. It isn’t that far. My heels clatter against the concrete footpath underneath me. I haven’t cried yet, I’m too angry, but I know I will later and it won’t be because Seth told me he is incapable of relationships or because he likes to fuck random girls. It will be because I’m stupid and weak. I will cry because I let Seth upset me—a stranger who knows nothing about me has upset me and I hate myself for it. Out of the corner of my eye, I see a white car slow to a walking pace.
“Olivia, get in the car.” He calls.
His voice sends dread hurling through my stomach. I flip him off and increase my pace.
The car jerks to a stop and he jumps out. Thick, strong arms seize my waist and he throws me over his shoulder.
“Jesus Christ, Seth. Put me down.” I shout.
I wind down my window to get fresh air on my face and I don’t look at Seth the entire drive. I open my door and climb out before the car comes to a full stop. Seth calls after me, but I ignore him. I can just make out the sound of his phone ringing and him growing more frustrated with every second that passes. I’m almost at the top of the stairs when he answers his phone.
“What?” He snaps. His voice is as cold as ice and I stumble to get my key in the door. “Again? Are you fucking kidding me? Fine.”
I step inside and slam the door shut as his car speeds away from my apartment. I throw my clutch across the room, growling in anger. There goes the gym I like to work out at. I’m never going back there again. I can’t possibly stomach seeing him. It’d make me too mad. I sigh. It’s going to kill Dad when he discovers I’m going to a new gym. Maybe I’ll try the new twenty-four hour one that has just opened up on the main street. Screw it. I’ll just jog a block or two instead. I drop onto the couch and shield my face with a pillow. I lay there for a little while thinking about all the things he said to me. I spend a good portion of the night trying to decipher him, but I can’t.
He’s unreadable.
Chapter Eight
It has been a week since the night with Seth at Salsa’s. I haven’t gone to the gym and Dad has been blowing up my phone checking on me at least twice a day. He tells me that Seth has been distant and more aggressive than usual. Of course he blames me, but I take no notice of it and keep playing dumb. I shouldn’t care and I’m sure I don’t. Blade hasn’t contacted me in over a week either and that’s helped me keep my head clear. The only contact that I’ve had from the opposite sex besides work and everyday stuff was the card that Seth had jammed in my door when I was at work two days ago. It said:
Sorry, call me. –Seth
And it had his number sprawled neatly along the bottom. I saved his number into my phone, but I’m yet to glance at it. I don’t really want to hear what he’s got to say. I’m not in the mood for his ‘I care, but I don’t care’ with the ‘I want you, but I can’t let myself have you’ kind of speeches.
I haven’t seen Selena since she left my house when we got back from the gym last week. She says she’s been so busy with work and her dad is pissed at her because she showed up to work drunk. Typical Selena.
I wave goodbye to Mason who is now back to talking to me like I didn’t reject him and I leave work. I have to walk a mile down the road to get to my car and by the time I get there, my boobs are sweaty and my legs ache. I’ve been overdoing it when it comes to running this past week. It’s my only release.
I drive home, shower and put on my pajamas. Nothing sounds better than a hot dinner and TV to me right now. The frozen dinner is covered in a thin layer of freezer ice. It’s been a while since I’ve had a microwavable dinner. When I close the freezer door, a colorful photo catches my attention. My younger face is contorted into a frustrated scowl while Mom’s cherry colored lips are pressed firmly against my cheek. My brother is standing behind us, squishing himself into the photo. His light brown hair is styled upright and his dark green eyes are illumined by the flash. I love this photo. It reminds me of a time when all we had was each other... but then Chase and I grew up and we wanted something for ourselves. I never understood why my parents were so desperate to have me back under their wing and I still don’t, but this photo helps me deal with it. Chase and I are their life.
I shove the dinner into the microwave and hit two minutes. While I wait, my eyes fall back onto the photo. I should call Mom. I grab my phone and drop into the couch. It’s been a while and I miss her. As it rings, I feel awkward and can’t quite get into a comfortable position. I pull one of the blue, square pillows from my couch and onto my lap.
“Hello, James residence.” Mom answers.
“Hey, mom...”
“Olivia, honey!” She coos. “How are you?”
“Good,” I pull on a loose piece of string hanging from one corner of my pillow. “How’s things?”
“Fine. Your dad tells me you haven’t been showing up at the gym... If there’s something wrong, you know you always have a place here.”
“I know, Mom. Rest assured nothing is wrong, I’ve just been busy. Have you heard from Chase?” I ask, changing the subject.
“Oh, yes. He’s in Pakistan on break right now. He should be home in five months before he has to ship out again. Darling, are you coming to dinner on Sunday?”
I exhale. I forgot about that. “Yeah, I’ll be there.”
“Yum.”
Mom chuckles excitedly through the phone, making me smile.
“I’m gonna go. I’ve got a lot of Gossip Girl to catch up on.”
“Okay honey. I’ll see you Sunday. I love you.”
“Love you, too.”
I hang up and smile. That phone call should keep her happy for a little while. The microwave beeps and I pull out the chicken fried rice. I tug on the plastic and as soon as it opens a little, steam pours out, burning the tips of my fingers.
“Ow!” I squeak, snapping my fingers away and stuffing them into my mouth to ease the burn. I leave the dish on the counter to cool and lean over the sink to run my fingertips under the cold water. I’m distracted as my phone rattles around on the bench, emitting an annoying vibrating noise. I lean over to glance at the screen. Selena’s name in big, bold letters flashes on my screen. Should I answer it? I am not going out tonight, no matter how hard she begs.
“The answer is no.” I say immediately, answering the phone with my dry hand and putting it against my ear.
“Jesus, O, have a little faith, you don’t even know why I’m calling.”
The cool water from the tap sooths my fingers as I plunge them further under the running water. “Is it to go clubbing?”
“No, actually.”
I sag in relief, shutting off the water. “Spill.”
“On a scale of one to ten how much of a lonely hermit are you?”
“One. I’m a happy hermit.” I reply, tugging the tea towel off the oven and drying my hand.
“Don’t lie. You’ve been a sourpuss since your date with Seth.”
“It wasn’t a date.” I quickly push in. “It was dinner.” And it’s not like I actually ate.
“Whatever. Look, I need a favor... I lost a bet with a friend and she set me up for a blind date with this guy only I can’t make it.”
“No way. I’m not doing it.”
“Olivia, please, I’m begging you. It’s only one dinner.” I don’t reply and she exhales deeply. “I’ll pay you a hundred bucks.”
The money makes me consider it. “Where and when?” I ask curiously.
I groan. “What time?”
“Six-thirty... you’re going to do it?”
I sigh, tapping my fingers in an even beat on the bench top. “Yes, I’ll do it for you and you better pay me.”
“I will. Thank you so much, this is going to totally save my ass.”
“I hope he isn’t going to expect anything from me because I don’t plan on staying with him very long.”
“It’ll be okay. He can be a little grabby if he has too much to drink, but he’s harmless so don’t freak out if he tries to kiss you.”
“Wait, what?”
“Thanks again, O. Love you.”
“Selena? Shit!”
I slide my phone across the bench. Why do I get myself into these things?
All of the frustrated glares I’m getting from families of four are quickly ruining my night. I agree that the four-person table I’m sitting at by the large window is a little unnecessary, but all the two-seaters are taken. It’s not my fault the waiter sat me here. I would’ve been happy at the bar.
The other half of this blind date hasn’t showed up yet and he better because if I’m stood up by a guy that I haven’t even met yet I’m going to be pissed.
A blond man with boot cut jeans and a formal, light grey shirt approaches me. The top two buttons of his shirt are open, exposing a small amount of chest hair. He’s quite handsome and has bright blue eyes. I rake my eyes up his tall body. I’m not that short, but this guy makes me feel like a hobbit. He’s even taller than Seth and I estimate Seth to be at least 6”1.
“Are you Selena?”
I smile politely. “No, Selena couldn’t make it. I’m her friend, Olivia.”
His mouth spreads into a wide, wolfish grin and it kind of gives me the creeps. I think he wants to devour me... and not in a good way. I feel uncomfortable as he slides into the seat next to me instead of sitting across from me like a normal person would. I try not to assume he means anything by it. This is a date... after all. His gaze is stabbing at my body, like little sharp daggers puncturing every inch of my flesh and I feel... exposed. Awkward. Disgusted.
“I’m Brent.” He says.
That sharp, creepy stare of his overtly drifts to my breasts before returning to my face. I become painfully aware of the top I’m wearing. It has a scoop neck that dips low in the front. I cross my arm over my chest and lean on my elbow, pretending I didn’t notice.
“Have you ordered?” He asks.
“Nope, let’s order now.” I quickly snap my fingers at a passing waiter. The sooner this is over, the better. I order a chicken salad and he orders a steak and two beers. When the beers come, it’s clear he ordered both for himself. While we wait he tries to converse with me and I’m very picky with what information I share with him. Some of it I make up. He hasn’t done anything else to put me off, but I don’t like the vibe he’s giving off. I become conscious of my tight, black pencil skirt as his knee grazes mine and I cross my legs over each other to keep them away from him.