True Bliss (Bliss #2)(7)
Author: B.J. Harvey

I don’t regret turning her down when she propositioned me that night. I don’t want to be a regret, a drunken mistake. If I take Kate to bed, it won’t be a drunken one night stand. I’ll make it so damn memorable, she won’t be able to get me out of her head for days, weeks even. That, and you can bet your bottom dollar we won’t be walking straight in the morning.

The few times I’ve seen Kate, she has always seemed shy, especially when Mac left us at the bar. Yet, from what I’ve heard from Mac, she’s a real spit fire. Feisty, funny, and very protective of her friends. So why has she always been so different around me?

I grew up in a house full of women. I know that girls are different to guys when it comes to dating and sex. There are unspoken rules. My sisters have explained this to me many a time. You never go with a guy that has:

a) been with your sister

b) been with one of your friends

or

c) that has a reputation as a love ’em and leave ’em type.

The sister and the friend rules are concrete. They tell me it’s the girl code. Having a conversation like that with my twenty-one and eighteen year old sisters was awkward, especially when it makes me sick to think of a guy even touching them, but it has given me some perspective on the female brain.

So with that in mind, I’m going to keep talking to Kate on the internet. I want to get to know her, and for her to get to know me without any awkwardness. Kate is different, and maybe different is what I need, what I want now.

Fuck, I’ve spent so much time around women, I’m starting to f**king sound like one.

I get to sleep in since it’s Sunday, and my only day off work and training. I saunter out into the living room around ten a.m. to find Zach lying on the sofa watching a football replay from last week. “Hey, early start or late finish?” I ask as I head for the kitchen and pour a cup of coffee.

“Early finish, early rise. Your little spit fire was at the bar again last night.”

“With a date?”

“Nah, with Mac and her man, and another guy who seemed to be the life of the party but definitely wasn’t her date. He kept giving me the glad eye all night,” he replies, shrugging his shoulders.

“Hmm. I texted Mac last night too.”

“Dude, she’s pregnant with that guy’s kid. Let it go.”

“Fuck off, I know that. I texted to find out if Kate’s on Chicago Singles.”

“That would explain that dad date last week.”

“That’s my thought as well.”

“So you like her then?” he asks, raising a brow.

“I’ve only seen her a couple of times, but she’s intriguing to say the least.”

“I wouldn’t say no to her,” he says absentmindedly, not looking away from the television.

I can’t hold back the growl in my throat. “She’s into commitment and relationships, Zach. You know, the two words that repel you like garlic to a vampire.”

“Really? Well, dammit. There goes that fantasy then.”

“I should hope so. Kate’s different. That’s why I haven’t gone there…yet,” I try to explain.

“Why not? She’s hot and has a killer body. Man, those heels she was wearing last night would feel so f**king good digging into your ass as you pound-“

“Dude. Don’t be thinking about her like that. Period. End of story.”

“Chill Zan, message received loud and clear. Since you’re so defensive about this, maybe you should ask her out. God knows that date of hers last week was a disaster. The guy ordered cider for crying out loud, in the middle of winter, and he looked like he was old enough to be her father.” Zach continues to watch the football, yelling at the TV when his team loses possession. “Fuck, did you see this game? They just can’t catch a break!”

I nod my head, but my mind is elsewhere. Taking a seat at the dining table, I can’t help but wonder what the deal is with Kate. She should have no trouble finding a man and settling down. Maybe she’s too picky…or too clingy. Guys never want clingy chicks.

I lean over the couch right next to Zach’s head. “By the way dude, I got my junk groped in front of children in a café yesterday just to win your dare. Mission completed. Free rent here I come,” I say before knocking his cap off his head.

“Fuck,” I hear him say under his breath as I walk out of the living room with a smile.

Realizing that the day is getting away from me, I gather my laundry for the week and head around the block to Suds R Us, my local laundromat. Once I have the washing machine on, I sit back in the plastic chairs lining the wall and pull out my phone. Time for my weekly phone call to Mom and the girls.

It rings twice before my sister Danika picks up. “City morgue. You kill ’em, we chill ’em.”

She never fails to amaze me. “Danika, that is terrible!” I say, still chuckling to myself.

“Zan! Tell me you’re coming home soon.”

“I wish I was, squirt. I’m too busy with work and the academy. Who would’ve thought you’d have to study to become a cop?”

“Well, duh! Of course you do. How else will you know how to get fat and eat donuts all day?”

“Oh is that what I’ll be doing all day? Well, shit. I’m glad you told me now,” I reply sarcastically.

Danika is fourteen going on twenty-five. I swear to God, that girl is way too clever. She’s already a year ahead in school and doesn’t seem to be slowing down at all. Hell, she was walking at nine months old and hasn’t stopped running since. After me, there is Zoe who is twenty-one, and Mia who is eighteen. They all still live at home with mom in Syracuse, Indiana. They moved from Chicago a few years ago when Mom got laid off and found a job working in an RV Factory. It meant they had to move out of state, but they’re still close enough that I can visit them every few months.

I’m very protective of my family. My father was a deadbeat dad who was always out of work or drunk, usually both. When I was thirteen, he died from liver failure. It was quick, it was traumatic, and my mother has never even dated another man since then.

I’ve tried to take care of them ever since; being the eldest, and only male in a group of girls, it was something I felt I had to do, so I grew up fast. I still send money to Mom when I have a particularly busy week dancing. Of course, she doesn’t know how I make my money; she thinks I work at the bar with Zach. I think she’d be shocked, and maybe a little disappointed with how I make a living, but I do know that she was over the moon when I was accepted into the police academy. She still tells anyone who will listen that I’m training to be a cop. Just being able to make her proud is worth everything to me.

Zoe knows that I dance. Unfortunate as it was, she happened to arrive late to a gig I’d just finished. Talk about awkward. She screamed when she recognized me, and I got stage fright, literally. I could. not. move. I grabbed her and we left straight afterwards, going to a twenty-four hour diner a few blocks from here to talk it out. She now understands why I strip, and we always make sure I’m not working any gig that she might be invited to.