And despite the shitty way I’ve enchanted men into throwing themselves at me, it has felt good to not give in to the bait. To really convince myself I don’t need a man. I haven’t envisioned myself in a white dress, or gone over potential baby names the way I used to. More than that, all the energy I’ve spent trying to soothe another person’s ego, or secure a man’s feelings has opened up as well. My gods I spent a lot of time doing errands, verbally blowing, or finding all these little ways to be romantic while waiting for some crumb of reciprocation.
It’s freed up so much space in my brain. Space I first dedicated to torturing my neighbor and then to working on the house. I now have a serviceable living room, bathroom, one and a half bedrooms and a kitchen in semi-decent condition. With the tips I make at work, the monetary pressure has lifted somewhat, but is this what I want to do? Flip houses? Run a bed and breakfast? I don’t know.
While I enjoy learning all kinds of things like tiling, some light plumbing, and other various useful skills. The realization I haven’t yet found my ‘thing’ forces a yawning disappointment to open up in me. Red has accounting, Cinder is an artist, Rap runs the bar, and I flit from thing to thing. A panic follows on the heels of my disappointment. I need to find it. Mything.
My gaze shifts to Ted, who is now wearing a pair of worn jeans and a gray tee. His intense stormy blue eyes are trained on JJ’s laptop on the breakfast table.
No. Absolutely not. Ted cannot be my thing. I promised myself I would stop letting men jerk me around.
Though the promise of solid ground with Ted seems deeply appealing right now.
What solid ground? He regretted having sex with you the first time, and he just told you he doesn’t do relationships. You know exactly how to handle this situation, just like riding a bike. Besides, he’s not solid. He’s grumpy, bossy, pushy, dominating, sexy, protective, passionate, and he smells so freaking good.
My brain jerks to a halt.Witchtits.
I feel caught in a tug-of-war, yanked between the need to remain my own person and the growing, unnerving desire for Ted. But now isn't the time for this whirlpool of thoughts, especially with JJ pulling up the surveillance on the laptop screen.
Eli has slunk into the kitchen where Ted ordered him to make coffee for all of us. Though Eli has himself elbow deep in some bad shit, I feel bad for him. Maybe it’s because he looks so despondent, like a kicked puppy. A kicked puppy who distantly resembles Ted, which really makes me want to soothe him and make him feel better. The bear boys all have the same eyes though varying shades of blue.
“Please feel free to direct me away from any footage of my brother boning,” JJ jokes before he coughs violently. I only catch the last of the sharp movement of Ted digging his elbow in JJ’s side.
“Kidding,” JJ wheezes before typing a few things, bringing up a screen. “I set it for motion detection so it should have parsed out any interesting footage, like a certain someone sleepwalking.” JJ leans over and winks at me.
All the things Ted warned me about his brother suddenly make sense. The guy does ooze charm even with his lankiness and crooked nose. There is something about him that instantly puts me at ease, but not in a sexual way at all. More in a brotherly way.
Ted straightens, his nostrils flaring. “What is that?”
I force my focus onto the surveillance footage.
The front door swings open in the dead of night.
“I told you to lock your front door,” Ted growls, his hands bunched into angry fists.
“I did,” I protest, but I am also watching someone break into my house like it’s nothing.
No, wait, not someone. . . a shadow? The door swings shut again but there is nothing more than a slight shadow moving in the room.
“What the. . . ” Ted trails off. He sees what I see.
“What about the exterior cameras,” Eli chimes in.
“On it,” JJ says, hitting a button and bringing up scenes of the outside of my house.
JJ starts to mutter as he rewinds then goes through the footage. “There’s no car outside, no person outside.”
“You must have missed an angle,” Ted points out.
“No,” JJ’s voice elevates in pitch from irritation. “I have all angles. It’s just nothing is there.” He continues the footage and again the door opens as if all on it’s own, a shadow entering my house.
A shudder goes through me. There is a gallery of screens, and I can plainly see I’m sleeping in bed. No idea someone is in my house.
JJ fumbles a bit, managing to zoom in but the figure remains elusive, a specter shifting just beyond clear view. I suddenly wish JJ wasn’t sitting between Ted and me. My hands wring at each other.
You don’t need a man, Goldie.
Yeah, but I might need a bat and a couple rape whistles.
The figure goes through the house, leafing through my books, sitting in chairs as if making themselves at home.
