novelxo Unhinged Desires: Chapter 4
When the doorman calls to say I have a delivery, I tell him I’ll be right there to get it. I wonder if my mum sent me something. She’s always sending me shoes, or bags and shit she sees and thinks I have to have. I’m not complaining. Because, honestly, my mum has great taste and nine times out of ten I use whatever she buys me.
The elevator opens up into the lobby and I walk over to the doorman. “Hey, Shawn, whatcha got for me?” I ask him.
“Ah, Miss Lucy, here.” He bends down and picks up a huge-ass fucking glass vase—no, it’s not glass. It’s crystal. I know Swarovski when I see it. And sticking out the top is a bouquet of tulips. Blue tulips. This is not from my mother. I have no idea who would send me blue tulips.
“Thanks.” I hold out my arms and take the vase. The flowers are bloody heavy.
“You want me to carry those up for you, Miss Lucy?” Shawn asks me.
“No, it’s fine. I’ve got it. Thanks, Shawn.” I smile and make my way back to the lift while trying my best to keep my arms around the vase.
By the time I enter my apartment, my muscles are burning. Mostly from the workout this morning—that self-defence class was no joke—and partly from hefting this ridiculous bunch of flowers up here. I set the vase on the bench and pull out the card.
May you rest peacefully tonight and find tranquillity within yourself. XX
I turn the card over. That’s it? A cryptic message. I mean, if you’re going to send someone flowers, at least put your damn name on the card so the receiver knows who to thank.
I pick up my phone and call my brother.
“LuLu, you okay?” he asks me the minute the call connects.
“Yeah, did you send me flowers?”
“Depends, are they nice ones? Because if they are, then yes. If they’re shit and you hate them, then no, wasn’t me.”
“They’re blue tulips, Xavier. Blue. It’s weird. If you didn’t send them, who did?” I sigh.
“As much as I love you, LuLu, I didn’t send the flowers. Maybe you’ve gone and got yourself an admirer. When you find out who it is, let me know, ʼcause I guarantee they won’t be good enough for you,” he says.
“Okay. What are you doing tonight?” I quickly change the subject.
“Working, why? Need another slumber party?” He poses it as a question, but really it’s an offer.
“No, I think I’m going to call Shar and see if she wants to catch a movie or something.”
Xavier goes quiet at the mention of my best friend. I know he’s had a crush on her since forever. He just won’t act on it. That being said, I’m sure when they’re both ready to admit their shared attraction, they will. I shouldn’t want my best friend anywhere near my brother, but I love them both and they’re really so suited for each other. I refuse to play matchmaker though. I am a huge believer in fate. If it’s meant to be, it will be.
“Okay, well, have fun. Be good and don’t do anything stupid,” Xavier tells me.
“What’s the point of having the city’s best criminal lawyer as a brother if I can’t do anything stupid?” I ask him with a grin.
“Lucy, God help the day I have to bail your ass out of jail.” He curses under his breath.
“Don’t worry, I’m far too pretty for prison,” I tease him.
“Yeah, and let’s keep it that way.” He hangs up.
“Nice talking to you too,” I say into the silence.
My eyes flick over to the flowers again, so I reach for the card and read it one more time. I don’t know if it’s creepy or sweet. Whoever sent them put some thought into it, and clearly spent a lot of fucking money on the gesture. Blue tulips are rare. I don’t know a lot about flowers, but I do know that much. My brain is going through the list of people who could have possibly sent them, and I can’t for the life of me think of anyone.
If my parents sent me flowers, they’d put their names on the card. None of my friends would send them to me either—well, Shar would if she could afford it. Something about this feels off, but then again, everything feels off to me lately. If the tulips weren’t so pretty, I’d throw them in the bin. Instead, I scrunch up the card and toss that.
Rest peacefully. Yeah, ʼcause that’s likely to happen.
I pick up my phone and call Shar. I can’t sit around in this apartment by myself all night. I need to get out.
“Hey, stranger, good to see you’re not dead,” she answers.
“Right back at ya, babycakes. Get dressed. I’m picking you up and we’re doing something tonight.”
“Something? Sounds ominous. What is this something we’re doing?” she questions me.
“I don’t know just yet, but I’ll figure it out. See you in an hour,” I tell her, then hang up before she can argue with me.
Forty-five minutes later, I’m pulling up in front of Shar’s building. She refuses to look for a new place, even after her mum passed. I think some part of her believes if she moves out, she’ll be leaving the memory of her mum behind with it. The day will come when she realizes how far from the truth that is. And when it does, I’ll be there to help her. Until then, I’ll do my best to support her, even when I’d rather be selfish and have her live with me.
I find my key and unlock her door, letting myself in. “Honey, I’m home!” I call out as I drop my bag on her counter.
“In here,” she calls back.
I make my way to her bedroom, pausing in the doorway. “Whoa, Shardonnay. Bloody hot, babe. Why can’t I be into girls? Really, we’d make such a great couple,” I tell her.
She laughs as she slides her feet into a pair of black leather pumps. “I’d kill you in your sleep if I had to live with you, Lucy. I mean, I love you but loving you and living with you do not go hand in hand.”
“Well, good thing I like dick way too much to give it up.”
“Speaking of, whose the latest and greatest?” she asks me with the raise of a curious brow.
I throw myself on her bed and sprawl an arm over my face. “I think I’m ugly or disgusting or maybe both. The only thing I seem to be able to do lately is make guys disappear. Seriously, Shar, I haven’t had a single guy ask me out for two months. Two months!” I repeat, because I need her to understand the seriousness of my predicament.
“Two months isn’t that long.” She shakes her head and laughs at me.
“Yes, it is. I haven’t had sex for two months. I mean, I almost did. There was this one guy I met on campus. I took him to the side of the building and I came on to him. We were in the middle of heavy petting when his phone rang and he bloody answered it.”
“Okay… then what happened?”
“He ran. Literally looked at me like he’d seen a ghost and ran like his life depended on it,” I tell her with wide eyes.
“That did not happen.” She laughs again.
“I shit you not, it did.”
“Really? Okay, that’s… weird,” she says.
“Told you! I’ve been hexed or cursed or worse.”
“What’s worse than being cursed?” Shar counters.
“Not having an orgasm for two months, that’s what.”
“You do know you can make yourself orgasm. There are toys for that.”
“It’s not the same. I want the real thing. Which is exactly what we are going to find tonight.”
“We are?”
“Yep. Let’s go. Night’s young and I want first pick of the litter,” I tell her before walking out of her bedroom and heading back to her living room.
AN HOUR LATER, we’re sitting at a table in a crammed college bar. “How about that one?” Shar points to a tall blonde guy who looks like he’s had one too many doses of roids.
“Nope.” I shake my head. I scan the room. There has to be someone here, someone I can disappear into the bathrooms with and end this dry spell. Then I find my target. A guy standing at the bar by himself. Our eyes lock. “Don’t leave. I’ll be right back,” I tell Shar.
“No worries, I’ll just sit here,” she says.
I make my way over to the bar, putting extra sway in my hips as I go. The dark-haired stranger doesn’t look away. I’ve not seen him around here before, and I can’t help but wonder if he’s a recent transfer. Truthfully, I don’t care. About who he is, where he’s from, or what he wants—as long as he breaks the curse.
“Whiskey and Coke,” I tell him.
“Excuse me?” he asks.
“You were going to ask me what I was having, then you were going to buy me a drink before making a little small talk, all in the hopes of taking me home and fucking me for as long as you could manage. Which, by the way, if it’s only two minutes, save us both the disappointment and tell me now.” I shrug.
The guy stares at me for a moment, his eyes widened in shock, then he turns to the barman and orders us each a drink. “Actually, I would have started with: Hi, I’m Zander,” he says once he’s regained his composure.
“Zander, cute name.” I sit on the bar stool next to him.
“And you are?”
“Lucy.”
“I Love Lucy. I like it.” He winks.
“Yeah, I’ve never heard that line, like ever…” I reply and can’t hold back my eye roll.
Please, God, let him be better at sex than he is at talking.
“Well, Lucy, how about we just drop the pretences and get out of here.” He throws a thumb over his shoulder and gestures to the door.
I tilt my head and inspect him. He’s hot, like I’d love to spend my time exploring his body with my tongue kind of hot. And he has big hands, hands I can almost imagine him running all over every inch of me.
“I think it would be a shame to waste a whiskey and Coke. But after this, we can disappear into the back and exchange… numbers,” I reply with a smirk.
“Okay, well, here’s to exchanging numbers.” He holds up his beer and clinks it with my glass. When he places his drink back on the counter, his hand lands on my bare thigh and his thumb rubs small circles, causing goose bumps to erupt along the surface.
Has it really been so long since I’ve been touched that just a little stroke is enough to set me on fire?
My phone vibrates on the bar top and I pick it up, thinking Shar is messaging me, until I check the screen and find a text from an unknown number.
UNKNOWN:
Tell him to remove his hand before I come over there and remove it for him. Permanently.
I glance up at Zander and then around the room. I can’t see anyone who appears to be looking at us. I don’t know what comes over me as I type out a reply.
ME:
Nope, I like his hand just where it is. If anything, I’m going to tell him to move it higher.
Not expecting a response, because surely whoever it is has the wrong number, I almost jump when the phone in my hand rings. It’s an unknown number again. I hit the button on the side to silence the call. My mystery caller can figure out that they’ve got the wrong number on their own. I set my phone down on the bar.
“Important?” Zander asks, his brows raising with the question.
“Wrong number,” I tell him before leaning in closer. I’m about to run a hand through his hair when the vibration of the phone dancing across the counter gets my attention again. I pick it up and read the message.
UNKNOWN:
Unless you want a bloodbath to erupt in this bar, stand up and walk away now. Go home, Lucy.
My brows furrow as I scan the interior for a second time. There’s no one here I recognize, except for Shar, who hasn’t moved since I left her waiting for me at our table.