Perfect Regret
Page 8
“Well this is a lot less glamorous than I thought it would be,” Gracie pouted, sitting down in one of the office chairs with a sigh. I rubbed at my temples, feeling the beginning twinges of a headache. The noise level was painful
“Yeah, well, we just need to suck it up and remember this is the best internship at Rinard,” I reminded her. Damien had already sat down and was reading the information in his folder. Following suit, I started to thumb through the material we were expected to go over. I tried not to feel deflated, particularly as I read that most of our “duties” would involve glorified gopher tasks.
The commotion behind the plastic sheet behind us was extremely distracting. I read the same sentence at least a dozen times before I closed the notebook with a decisive bang. Coffee. I needed coffee.
Gracie wasn’t even reading. She was staring at the construction workers walking back and forth beyond her desk. She had that dreamy look on her face as she ogled the guys hefting their sledgehammers as they took down one of the partition walls. They weren’t even that cute, but it didn’t take much to get Gracie’s attention.
Then her expression changed and she lit up like a Christmas tree. Her lips spread in a smile I recognized as her signature man-eater grin. She fluffed her hair and wiggled her shoulders, causing her shirt to droop suggestively low exposing an inappropriate amount of cleavage.
“Garrett!” she squealed in delight. I turned around to find my disastrous one night stand standing behind me with some sort of power tool in his hands. He looked dirty and sweaty and obnoxiously attractive.
Well damn it all to hell.
Garrett gave Gracie a lazy smile. “Hey,” he said, the low timber of his voice doing strange things to my insides. I purposefully turned back around, hoping that he hadn’t noticed me.
“Hey, Riley,” he said in a tone that dared me to ignore him. I lifted my hand in a wave without facing him. I resolutely opened my folder and tried to focus on the words blurring on the page in front of me. I felt the back of my neck flush and my ears burned hot.
“Do you work here?” Gracie asked in a high-pitched voice that could cut glass. Clearly Garrett’s seductive charms were working on my friend.
Garrett walked around until he was stood directly in front of my desk, making ignoring him impossible. He was doing this on purpose. He looked down at me, with an amused smirk on his face. He was enjoying my discomfort. In fact, he seemed to be loving it.
“I sure do. I’m part of the crew working on the renovations,” he said, still looking at me, even though he was talking to Gracie. I met his eyes directly and even though my face was most likely bright red I met his bold gaze head on. I would not let him see me sweat.
“Oh, that’s great. We’ll get to see you all the time then,” Gracie said, trying to get his attention. Unfortunately for her, we were too busy playing the first one who looks away is a pussy.
“Super,” Garrett responded dryly, looking as though he wanted to laugh. Oh f**k this. I got to my feet.
“Gracie, Damien, you want a coffee?” I asked. Sure I was giving him the satisfaction of seeing me run but at that moment I didn’t care. I just needed some breathing space. Because seeing him again, so soon after our night together, was like dunking me in a molten fire pit. I tingled from my scalp to my toes with an awareness of the way this man had touched and kissed me, even though my mind was still hazy with the details. Clearly my body remembered all too well.
And I did not appreciate the reminders here of all places. This was my internship. My world. And Garrett did not belong inside my happy little bubble. Seeing him threw me in ways I couldn’t explain.
“I’ll come with you,” Damien said quickly. I had to suppress my groan. Could this get any better? I looked at Garrett again, whose amusement had faded. Damien reached out to touch my arm but I moved away before his fingers could make contact. Something flashed in Garrett’s eyes and his face darkened dangerously. He flicked his eyes from me back to Damien and he almost seemed to be working through something in that head of his. Seeing him focus on anything was more of a shock than finding him working here.
But one thing was for sure, his nonchalant demeanor was noticeably absent as he stared down my oblivious ex-boyfriend.
“Garrett, when is your next gig? I hate that I missed the last one,” Gracie said excitedly and I used that as my cue to leave. With Damien on my heels, I hurried to the break room.
“Ri, wait up!” Damien called out and grudgingly waited for him to join me. “You okay?” he asked, peering at me closely. Despite how horrible our end was it didn’t change the fact that Damien Green knew me better than most. He knew when I was rattled. And I was most definitely feeling rattled.
I gave him a thin smile. “Fine. Just need some coffee. You know I’m like Dawn of the Dead until I get my caffeine,” I replied. Damien smiled back tentatively, looking a little antsy. His eyes darted around the room, maybe looking for any possible weapons. The boy already knew what I was capable of with a lamp at my disposal.
“I mean are you okay with us doing this together. I know it’ll be..”
“Awkward? Weird? Annoying as hell?” I interjected before he could finish.
Damien lifted his shoulders in a shrug and his smile was strangely more relaxed. As though my snarkiness was something he could deal with. As opposed to the giant pile of sad I had been before.
“Exactly,” he said softly, staring at me in that way of his that at one time made me weak in the knees. He stepped closer, his hand resting on my arm meaning to be comforting. Really it just made me feel icky. Like I wanted to scrub myself clean after he touched me. Who the hell did he think he was talking and touching me like this? I was torn between self-righteous anger and total dumbfoundeness.
“Ah, so this is where the coffee is,” I jerked back as though doused in ice water. Garrett moved purposefully into the room. I blinked in surprise as he walked between Damien and me. Damien stumbled backwards. Did Garrett really just shoulder check Damien?
Damien frowned at Garrett and I knew he was irritated by the interruption. “Let’s get back to our desks, Ri,” Damien said trying to meet my eyes again.
Garrett poured his coffee into a thermos and screwed on the lid. “Actually, can I talk to you for a sec, Ri,” Garrett sneered, turning around to look at me. His expression dared me to refuse. To ignore him and walk away.
“Yeah, sure,” I said defiantly. Damien’s frown deepened as he looked between Garrett and me as though trying to decipher the mysterious vibe that was most certainly humming between us.
Garrett glanced at Damien. “This isn’t a group conversation.” I had to cover my mouth so I wouldn’t chuckle out loud. Damien’s face flushed in indignation and I maliciously enjoyed my ex’s discomfort. Without another word, Damien left, though he looked anything but happy about it.
“Rude much?” I asked testily, swallowing the enjoyment I felt at Garrett’s posturing and intimidation of Damien. Crossing my arms over my chest, I leveled him with my best you are wasting my time look. Garrett took a drink of his coffee and shoved his other hand in his jean pocket. He had a smudge of dirt across his cheek and I had to stop myself from wiping it off. Not because I wanted to touch him or anything. It was just seriously messing with my OCD.
“If I thought you actually cared about me being rude to that douche bag, I might actually apologize,” Garrett said, his mouth twitching in an effort not to smile. Well I’m glad I amused him so freaking much. That’s me, Riley Walker, three ring circus.
I started to tap my foot to indicate my impatience. Garrett took another drink. “Now who’s being rude,” he commented lazily as though he had all the time in the world to taunt me.
“Don’t you have a job to do? Because I sure as hell do,” I bit out, feeling irrationally frustrated with the whole situation.
“You’re such a prickly little pear, aren’t you?” he mused, causing me to grit my teeth. I didn’t respond, knowing that’s exactly what he wanted. And I was feeling very oppositional. Garrett put his thermos down on the table, and mirrored my stance by folding his rather muscular arms (come on, they were practically on display in his too tight wife beater) over his chest.
“So we’re playing like it didn’t happen,” he stated rather than asked. He looked at me with an unreadable expression. I couldn’t tell whether this is how he wanted it to be or rather it bothered him. Garrett Bellows was apparently a guy with few emotions. His expression was bland and unconcerned as though we were talking about the latest football stats as opposed to our round of na**d twister.
“Like what didn’t happen?” I asked pointedly, narrowing my eyes, waiting for him to say something else to piss me off.
Garrett didn’t say anything for a moment. He simply watched me as though trying to see something. What, I didn’t know. And I refused to care either.
Finally he nodded. “Good,” was all he said. He picked up his thermos and walked out of the break room without another look in my direction. I should have been relieved that our secret rendezvous would remain a secret. But relief wasn’t exactly what I was feeling. And I refused to admit to myself that it was disappointment that fluttered in my stomach.
“I call girls’ night!” Maysie yelled coming in the front door and throwing her book bag on the couch. I sat with my feet propped up on the coffee table, dutifully highlighting and making notes while I forced myself to read through my grammatical structure textbook.
Maysie snatched my highlighter and capped it, shoving my legs as she pushed passed me. “Sorry if I’m in your way,” I muttered, closing my book and deciding that giving my roommate the attention she desired was easier than ignoring her. Maysie was like a neglected cat when she was ignored. Rubbing up on you until you either smacked her away or gave up and began to rub her.
“So, girls’ night. You, Gracie, Viv, and me. Bars, booze, boys. The three Bs necessary for a good time. You are not allowed to say no. You are not allowed to bitch about how you have homework. You are going to put a smile on that pretty face of yours and you are going to suffer through an evening of laughing and fun. Think you can handle that?” she asked, cocking an eyebrow, waiting for me to start complaining.
“Will there be drunken tattoos and really bad karaoke,” I asked, sighing. Maysie grinned and it was a truly evil sight. The girl was ruthless when it came to piling on the peer pressure.
“There just might be, Ri,” she laughed and rubbed her hands together like a cheesy Bond villain.
“Fine. But you are not permitted to pick out my clothes. If I choose to wear my combat boots, I will and you are not allowed to make one disparaging remark about them. In fact, since I’m being made to do something against my will, I insist on it,” I warned, shaking my finger in her face.
Maysie rolled her eyes and snorted. “As if you’d let me get you within ten feet of a curling iron or a mini skirt. You are just no fun,” she pouted and I let out a huff of indignation.
“I’m more fun than you can handle, girlfriend,” I replied, snapping my fingers in her face and giving her my best sex face. Maysie dissolved into a fit of giggles before jumping to her feet to hurry into the kitchen.
“Vivian and Gracie are on their way over, we’re cabbing it tonight, so let’s pre-game!” Maysie said excitedly coming back into the living room with a bottle of Vodka and a jug of orange juice.
“Uh, sweetheart, I didn’t check the looking for liver failure box on my college application. I’m quite happy to sail this boat sober. Someone’s got to make sure we don’t end up in Mexico with a guy named Bubba,” I stated, pushing the make-me-puke cocktail out of my face.
I had done the drunk thing. I had played the part of Riley who makes bad decisions. I was thinking of getting the I got drunk and sexed up a random T-shirt just so I could advertise my shame. I had no plans of repeating that particular evening anytime soon. And when Maysie and the girls got their party on, mayhem was sure to follow.
“I’m not crying in my Wheaties anymore, Mays. There’s no need to force me into a night of debauchery with the delusion of doing me a favor. I’ve donned my cape and am Super Riley once again,” I proclaimed.
Maysie huffed. “I warned you that saying ‘no’ wasn’t an option.” She waggled her eyebrows and I threw up my hands in defeat.
At that moment, our door flew open and Vivian waltzed into the room, wearing her “ready to fuck” outfit consisting of red mini-dress and hooker heals. Her hair was over curled and over styled and her makeup would have to be scraped off in the morning but she owned it. I could admit I dug her self-confidence. There was something appealing about being that self-assured.
I had never suffered from poor self-esteem. I didn’t spend endless hours wondering why people didn’t like me or moaning about the way I looked. That had been Maysie’s hang-up for years. I’ll admit it used to drive me crazy. There was only so much backstroking a gal could stomach before you resorted to shaking the shit out of your friend and telling her to grow up.
I had performed varying degrees of tough love on my best friend in the past and wasn’t shy in telling people what I thought. But even I would never feel comfortable enough to let my body hang all out like that. I wasn’t sure if it was a niggling lack of confidence or a greater sense of pride. But whatever it was, Vivian didn’t give a crap and for that I could appreciate her.
“What’s up my bitches!” she yelled, dropping her coat on the floor and putting a grocery bag full of beer on the TV stand. Gracie came in behind her, looking much more subdued in a jean skirt and frilly top. But even she exuded a crazy energy. These girls were ready to get their party on whether I wanted to or not.
“Yeah, well, we just need to suck it up and remember this is the best internship at Rinard,” I reminded her. Damien had already sat down and was reading the information in his folder. Following suit, I started to thumb through the material we were expected to go over. I tried not to feel deflated, particularly as I read that most of our “duties” would involve glorified gopher tasks.
The commotion behind the plastic sheet behind us was extremely distracting. I read the same sentence at least a dozen times before I closed the notebook with a decisive bang. Coffee. I needed coffee.
Gracie wasn’t even reading. She was staring at the construction workers walking back and forth beyond her desk. She had that dreamy look on her face as she ogled the guys hefting their sledgehammers as they took down one of the partition walls. They weren’t even that cute, but it didn’t take much to get Gracie’s attention.
Then her expression changed and she lit up like a Christmas tree. Her lips spread in a smile I recognized as her signature man-eater grin. She fluffed her hair and wiggled her shoulders, causing her shirt to droop suggestively low exposing an inappropriate amount of cleavage.
“Garrett!” she squealed in delight. I turned around to find my disastrous one night stand standing behind me with some sort of power tool in his hands. He looked dirty and sweaty and obnoxiously attractive.
Well damn it all to hell.
Garrett gave Gracie a lazy smile. “Hey,” he said, the low timber of his voice doing strange things to my insides. I purposefully turned back around, hoping that he hadn’t noticed me.
“Hey, Riley,” he said in a tone that dared me to ignore him. I lifted my hand in a wave without facing him. I resolutely opened my folder and tried to focus on the words blurring on the page in front of me. I felt the back of my neck flush and my ears burned hot.
“Do you work here?” Gracie asked in a high-pitched voice that could cut glass. Clearly Garrett’s seductive charms were working on my friend.
Garrett walked around until he was stood directly in front of my desk, making ignoring him impossible. He was doing this on purpose. He looked down at me, with an amused smirk on his face. He was enjoying my discomfort. In fact, he seemed to be loving it.
“I sure do. I’m part of the crew working on the renovations,” he said, still looking at me, even though he was talking to Gracie. I met his eyes directly and even though my face was most likely bright red I met his bold gaze head on. I would not let him see me sweat.
“Oh, that’s great. We’ll get to see you all the time then,” Gracie said, trying to get his attention. Unfortunately for her, we were too busy playing the first one who looks away is a pussy.
“Super,” Garrett responded dryly, looking as though he wanted to laugh. Oh f**k this. I got to my feet.
“Gracie, Damien, you want a coffee?” I asked. Sure I was giving him the satisfaction of seeing me run but at that moment I didn’t care. I just needed some breathing space. Because seeing him again, so soon after our night together, was like dunking me in a molten fire pit. I tingled from my scalp to my toes with an awareness of the way this man had touched and kissed me, even though my mind was still hazy with the details. Clearly my body remembered all too well.
And I did not appreciate the reminders here of all places. This was my internship. My world. And Garrett did not belong inside my happy little bubble. Seeing him threw me in ways I couldn’t explain.
“I’ll come with you,” Damien said quickly. I had to suppress my groan. Could this get any better? I looked at Garrett again, whose amusement had faded. Damien reached out to touch my arm but I moved away before his fingers could make contact. Something flashed in Garrett’s eyes and his face darkened dangerously. He flicked his eyes from me back to Damien and he almost seemed to be working through something in that head of his. Seeing him focus on anything was more of a shock than finding him working here.
But one thing was for sure, his nonchalant demeanor was noticeably absent as he stared down my oblivious ex-boyfriend.
“Garrett, when is your next gig? I hate that I missed the last one,” Gracie said excitedly and I used that as my cue to leave. With Damien on my heels, I hurried to the break room.
“Ri, wait up!” Damien called out and grudgingly waited for him to join me. “You okay?” he asked, peering at me closely. Despite how horrible our end was it didn’t change the fact that Damien Green knew me better than most. He knew when I was rattled. And I was most definitely feeling rattled.
I gave him a thin smile. “Fine. Just need some coffee. You know I’m like Dawn of the Dead until I get my caffeine,” I replied. Damien smiled back tentatively, looking a little antsy. His eyes darted around the room, maybe looking for any possible weapons. The boy already knew what I was capable of with a lamp at my disposal.
“I mean are you okay with us doing this together. I know it’ll be..”
“Awkward? Weird? Annoying as hell?” I interjected before he could finish.
Damien lifted his shoulders in a shrug and his smile was strangely more relaxed. As though my snarkiness was something he could deal with. As opposed to the giant pile of sad I had been before.
“Exactly,” he said softly, staring at me in that way of his that at one time made me weak in the knees. He stepped closer, his hand resting on my arm meaning to be comforting. Really it just made me feel icky. Like I wanted to scrub myself clean after he touched me. Who the hell did he think he was talking and touching me like this? I was torn between self-righteous anger and total dumbfoundeness.
“Ah, so this is where the coffee is,” I jerked back as though doused in ice water. Garrett moved purposefully into the room. I blinked in surprise as he walked between Damien and me. Damien stumbled backwards. Did Garrett really just shoulder check Damien?
Damien frowned at Garrett and I knew he was irritated by the interruption. “Let’s get back to our desks, Ri,” Damien said trying to meet my eyes again.
Garrett poured his coffee into a thermos and screwed on the lid. “Actually, can I talk to you for a sec, Ri,” Garrett sneered, turning around to look at me. His expression dared me to refuse. To ignore him and walk away.
“Yeah, sure,” I said defiantly. Damien’s frown deepened as he looked between Garrett and me as though trying to decipher the mysterious vibe that was most certainly humming between us.
Garrett glanced at Damien. “This isn’t a group conversation.” I had to cover my mouth so I wouldn’t chuckle out loud. Damien’s face flushed in indignation and I maliciously enjoyed my ex’s discomfort. Without another word, Damien left, though he looked anything but happy about it.
“Rude much?” I asked testily, swallowing the enjoyment I felt at Garrett’s posturing and intimidation of Damien. Crossing my arms over my chest, I leveled him with my best you are wasting my time look. Garrett took a drink of his coffee and shoved his other hand in his jean pocket. He had a smudge of dirt across his cheek and I had to stop myself from wiping it off. Not because I wanted to touch him or anything. It was just seriously messing with my OCD.
“If I thought you actually cared about me being rude to that douche bag, I might actually apologize,” Garrett said, his mouth twitching in an effort not to smile. Well I’m glad I amused him so freaking much. That’s me, Riley Walker, three ring circus.
I started to tap my foot to indicate my impatience. Garrett took another drink. “Now who’s being rude,” he commented lazily as though he had all the time in the world to taunt me.
“Don’t you have a job to do? Because I sure as hell do,” I bit out, feeling irrationally frustrated with the whole situation.
“You’re such a prickly little pear, aren’t you?” he mused, causing me to grit my teeth. I didn’t respond, knowing that’s exactly what he wanted. And I was feeling very oppositional. Garrett put his thermos down on the table, and mirrored my stance by folding his rather muscular arms (come on, they were practically on display in his too tight wife beater) over his chest.
“So we’re playing like it didn’t happen,” he stated rather than asked. He looked at me with an unreadable expression. I couldn’t tell whether this is how he wanted it to be or rather it bothered him. Garrett Bellows was apparently a guy with few emotions. His expression was bland and unconcerned as though we were talking about the latest football stats as opposed to our round of na**d twister.
“Like what didn’t happen?” I asked pointedly, narrowing my eyes, waiting for him to say something else to piss me off.
Garrett didn’t say anything for a moment. He simply watched me as though trying to see something. What, I didn’t know. And I refused to care either.
Finally he nodded. “Good,” was all he said. He picked up his thermos and walked out of the break room without another look in my direction. I should have been relieved that our secret rendezvous would remain a secret. But relief wasn’t exactly what I was feeling. And I refused to admit to myself that it was disappointment that fluttered in my stomach.
“I call girls’ night!” Maysie yelled coming in the front door and throwing her book bag on the couch. I sat with my feet propped up on the coffee table, dutifully highlighting and making notes while I forced myself to read through my grammatical structure textbook.
Maysie snatched my highlighter and capped it, shoving my legs as she pushed passed me. “Sorry if I’m in your way,” I muttered, closing my book and deciding that giving my roommate the attention she desired was easier than ignoring her. Maysie was like a neglected cat when she was ignored. Rubbing up on you until you either smacked her away or gave up and began to rub her.
“So, girls’ night. You, Gracie, Viv, and me. Bars, booze, boys. The three Bs necessary for a good time. You are not allowed to say no. You are not allowed to bitch about how you have homework. You are going to put a smile on that pretty face of yours and you are going to suffer through an evening of laughing and fun. Think you can handle that?” she asked, cocking an eyebrow, waiting for me to start complaining.
“Will there be drunken tattoos and really bad karaoke,” I asked, sighing. Maysie grinned and it was a truly evil sight. The girl was ruthless when it came to piling on the peer pressure.
“There just might be, Ri,” she laughed and rubbed her hands together like a cheesy Bond villain.
“Fine. But you are not permitted to pick out my clothes. If I choose to wear my combat boots, I will and you are not allowed to make one disparaging remark about them. In fact, since I’m being made to do something against my will, I insist on it,” I warned, shaking my finger in her face.
Maysie rolled her eyes and snorted. “As if you’d let me get you within ten feet of a curling iron or a mini skirt. You are just no fun,” she pouted and I let out a huff of indignation.
“I’m more fun than you can handle, girlfriend,” I replied, snapping my fingers in her face and giving her my best sex face. Maysie dissolved into a fit of giggles before jumping to her feet to hurry into the kitchen.
“Vivian and Gracie are on their way over, we’re cabbing it tonight, so let’s pre-game!” Maysie said excitedly coming back into the living room with a bottle of Vodka and a jug of orange juice.
“Uh, sweetheart, I didn’t check the looking for liver failure box on my college application. I’m quite happy to sail this boat sober. Someone’s got to make sure we don’t end up in Mexico with a guy named Bubba,” I stated, pushing the make-me-puke cocktail out of my face.
I had done the drunk thing. I had played the part of Riley who makes bad decisions. I was thinking of getting the I got drunk and sexed up a random T-shirt just so I could advertise my shame. I had no plans of repeating that particular evening anytime soon. And when Maysie and the girls got their party on, mayhem was sure to follow.
“I’m not crying in my Wheaties anymore, Mays. There’s no need to force me into a night of debauchery with the delusion of doing me a favor. I’ve donned my cape and am Super Riley once again,” I proclaimed.
Maysie huffed. “I warned you that saying ‘no’ wasn’t an option.” She waggled her eyebrows and I threw up my hands in defeat.
At that moment, our door flew open and Vivian waltzed into the room, wearing her “ready to fuck” outfit consisting of red mini-dress and hooker heals. Her hair was over curled and over styled and her makeup would have to be scraped off in the morning but she owned it. I could admit I dug her self-confidence. There was something appealing about being that self-assured.
I had never suffered from poor self-esteem. I didn’t spend endless hours wondering why people didn’t like me or moaning about the way I looked. That had been Maysie’s hang-up for years. I’ll admit it used to drive me crazy. There was only so much backstroking a gal could stomach before you resorted to shaking the shit out of your friend and telling her to grow up.
I had performed varying degrees of tough love on my best friend in the past and wasn’t shy in telling people what I thought. But even I would never feel comfortable enough to let my body hang all out like that. I wasn’t sure if it was a niggling lack of confidence or a greater sense of pride. But whatever it was, Vivian didn’t give a crap and for that I could appreciate her.
“What’s up my bitches!” she yelled, dropping her coat on the floor and putting a grocery bag full of beer on the TV stand. Gracie came in behind her, looking much more subdued in a jean skirt and frilly top. But even she exuded a crazy energy. These girls were ready to get their party on whether I wanted to or not.
