Beautiful Entourage Read online

  Her eyes smiled but her lips didn’t. “You’re such a liar.”

  “Okay, you caught me. I’ve never had them before. But I’ll give them a shot.”

  “I guess bringing nothing was better than bringing something in this case.”

  “Knock it off.” My hand moved to her waist and I pulled her into the apartment. “Thank you for bringing them. Honestly.”

  She moved into my side naturally. “At least you aren’t a jerk about it.”

  “When am I ever a jerk?” I looked down into her face.

  “Never.” She grabbed the canned margaritas and moved to the kitchen, leaving my embrace.

  I hadn’t even realized I was touching her until she moved away.

  “It smells good in here.”

  I came behind her then stirred the vegetables. “Everything is almost ready.”

  “How can I help?”

  “You can’t,” I said. “Actually, you can set the table.”

  “Good. I need to do something other than bring cheap booze.” She opened the cabinets and pulled out the plates and silverware.

  I removed everything from the oven and stove. The chicken came out perfectly, juicy and moist, and the potatoes were thoroughly cooked. I carried the dishes to the kitchen table then returned to grab the box of margaritas.

  Aspen smirked when she spotted them. “Are we seriously going to drink those?”

  I looked at the box. “They’re mango flavored.”

  She laughed then sat across from me. The table faced the window so there was a view of the skyline. “Your apartment is beautiful.”

  “Thank you.” I served the food for both of us then began to eat.

  “How long have you lived here?”

  “For a few years.”

  “It would be hard to leave this place.”

  “I bought it, actually.”

  “Oh cool,” she said. “It’s hard to find good apartments for sale. They’re usually sold within minutes after they go on the market.”

  “I got lucky.”

  She ate elegantly, like someone trained to eat with grace at diplomatic work parties. “Everything tastes really good. I didn’t realize you were a chef.”

  “Thank you. I know how to throw together a few things. Beyond that, I’m pretty clueless.”

  “Well, you’re off to a good start.” She ate most of her plate then grabbed a can. “I want to see just how bad these things are.” She opened it then took a sip. Her face contorted into different expressions until she nodded. “Not bad.”

  I opened one and took a sip. “I’m actually impressed.”

  She held her can up to mine. “Cheers.”

  “Cheers.” I clanked my can against hers then took a long drink.

  She set hers down on the table then took a deep breath. “Whoa, those are strong.”

  I eyed the can. “It’s eight percent...”

  Her cheeks reddened in embarrassment. “I’m a lightweight.”

  “At least it’s cheaper for you to get drunk.” I finished one can then moved onto the next.

  “Good thing I have no pride.” She finished her plate until there wasn’t a crumb left. “That was awesome.”

  I was glad she liked my cooking. “Thank you.” She complimented me three times and I couldn’t think of another response.

  She stayed in her seat then opened another can. “How many of these do you think you can down?”

  “Until you get drunk?” I asked.

  “Yeah.”

  “All of them,” I said bluntly. “And not even then.”

  She chuckled. “My max is four.” She held the can to her lips and took a drink.

  I eyed her nails. “Your nails look nice.”

  “Thanks.” She held up both hands, and one set of nails was colorless. “Didn’t get a chance to finish both.”

  I tried not to laugh. “It looks…cool.”

  She eyed them. “I’m starting a fashion trend.”

  “Teenagers all over the country will be following in your steps soon enough.”

  “What an accomplishment,” she said sarcastically.

  When I finished my sixth can, I pushed the box away. “I can’t drink anymore of that.” I laughed even though it wasn’t funny. The eight percent alcohol was getting to me.

  She pushed hers away too. “That’s enough mango for one night. Good thing we had dinner first.”

  “Okay…they are pretty bad.”

  Her eyes sparkled in amusement, obviously not offended the drinks weren’t a hit. “Harper brought them over one night and I was too lazy to throw them away.”

  “Harper brought them…sure.” There was a teasing tone to my voice.

  She kicked me playfully under the table. “Classy girls like me don’t drink margaritas from a can.”

  “And what do they drink?” I asked.

  She shrugged. “Beer?”

  I laughed for the zillionth time that night. “If your father saw you drink beer, he would call you a dyke again.”

  She covered her face and laughed. “Ohmygod, he would.”

  “Do you need some water to wash down all the mango?”

  “No, I’m okay,” she said. “But thank you.”

  “So…Criminal Minds?” I asked.

  “The sun is gone,” she said. “We can’t watch it now.”

  “But there’re two of us. So it’s okay.”

  “I’ll never be able to walk home in the dark after watching that…”

  “I’ll walk you home,” I said immediately. I was going to offer anyway.

  “I don’t know…”

  “I have a bat under the couch,” I said. “Does that help?”

  She took a deep breath. “Okay, I think I can handle it.”

  We left the kitchen table then moved to the leather sofas. We sat beside each other as I turned on the TV. Her knees were pulled to her chest like that would give her extra protection. “I hope the victim is a dude,” she whispered.

  “Then I’ll be scared,” I said.

  “Well, it can’t be a girl.”

  “Maybe they can have the victim be an alien,” I said. “Then no one would be scared.”

  “Did you know some of these are based off of true cases?”

  I swallowed the pretend lump in my throat. “No…”

  “See? It’s terrifying.”

  “We’ll be fine, Aspen.” I patted her thigh absentmindedly then returned my hand to my lap.

  We watched the show in silence, and Aspen only flinched once. When the credits rolled and the show ended, she relaxed.

  “That wasn’t so bad,” I said.

  “No, it wasn’t,” she agreed. “But I probably would have been terrified if you weren’t here.”

  “Remember, I box. You don’t want to mess with me.”

  “True.” She was quiet for a moment before she checked her watch. “I should probably go. I didn’t realize how late it was.”

  I was sad to see her go but I didn’t say it. “Yeah, you’re probably right.”

  “Are you a night owl or a morning person?” she asked.

  “Night owl,” I said immediately. “It’s when I come alive.”

  “I’m the opposite,” she said. “Like an old woman, if I don’t go to bed by a reasonable time, I’m grouchy.”

  “Well, we’re usually out until midnight.”

  “Midnight is usually when I go to bed.”

  “You’re the only old woman I know who has a bedtime that late,” I teased.

  She grabbed her purse and stopped when she reached the kitchen. “Should we just toss those?”

  “That’s a good idea,” I said. “My boys would tease me mercilessly if they saw those in my refrigerator.”

  “Wouldn’t blame them.”

  On the way out, I dumped them in the trash shoot and walked back to her apartment. She walked close to me, peering into the shadows.

  I watched her, amused. “No one is going to kill us, Aspen.”

&nb
sp; “You don’t know that. It’s best to be on alert.”

  “You got me for protection,” I said. “So, you’re safe.”

  She moved closer into my side.

  When we reached her apartment, I walked her to the door. “Thanks for coming over for dinner.”

  “Thank you for inviting me.” She tucked a strand of brown hair behind her ear, and her eyes flashed in an emerald color. They were captivating and alluring. Sometimes I couldn’t stop staring at them. “You’re a great cook.”

  “Thanks. You’re a great guest…the margaritas aside.”

  She chuckled, and like always, it sounded beautiful. “I’ll bring something better next time.”

  I was glad she assumed there would be a next time. “Bringing yourself is enough.”

  Her eyes softened while she regarded me. They looked into mine, like they were searching for something. She tensed under my stare then unlocked the door. “Well, good night.”

  “Good night, Aspen.” I wanted to hug her but I held myself back. Last time I did that, I hugged her for five minutes. I’d never done that before either. All of this was old but it was new at the same time.

  She gave me a final smile before she closed the door.

  I stood there for a long time before I finally walked away. I released the breath I was holding then stopped before I reached the stairs.

  Aspen opened the door and yelled. “Rhett!”

  I walked down the hall again. “Yeah?”

  “I forgot to tell you about dinner this weekend. My dad wants to go out. That’s why I called. I just…forgot I guess.”

  I hadn’t even noticed that she didn’t tell me why she called. Our conversation just took off naturally, and after talking on the phone for an hour, I invited her over for dinner where we had a great time. She never explained her purpose and I never asked for it. It just happened, like a fire naturally combusting from nothing, like the moon appearing in the sky without attracting notice, like the clouds passing overhead without further thought.

  Like it was meant to happen, it did.

  ***

  When she opened the door, I held up the bottle of maraschino cherries with a red bow on top. “Way better than flowers, right?”

  She took the bottle then held it up to the light. She grinned broadly, showing all her perfect teeth. Then she brought it to her chest and hugged it like a teddy bear. “This is the best date ever.”

  Her enthusiasm always made me smile. She was naturally playful, and she let that side out when she was around me. It was abundantly different than the serious side she showed when she was around her father. I wondered how many people got to see that smile and glowing eyes. “I’m glad you like them. I struggled to hand them over.”

  “You always give me your cherries.”

  “Somehow, I found the strength.”

  She set the bottle on the counter. “As soon as this stupid dinner is over with, I’m breaking into that bottle.”

  “I won’t judge you.”

  “Good. Otherwise, I’d have to fire you.”

  The realization that she could made me smile. “You are my boss, technically.”

  “And don’t forget it.” She grabbed her clutch off the counter. She wore a pink strapless dress that stopped just above her knees. Nude pumps were on her feet, and a silver bracelet adorned her wrist. Her hair was pulled in an updo, revealing her slender neck and petite shoulders. I stared at her hard, unable to stop.

  After she locked the door, she turned to me. “Ready?”

  I was shattered from my gawking. “Yes.” I looked down then grinned when I noticed something interesting about her hands.

  “What?” She looked down then touched her dress. “Did I spill hot sauce on my dress?”

  “Hot sauce?” I asked. “Why would you spill hot sauce?”

  “Well, I was eating chicken wings not that long ago…”

  “Wearing that?” I asked incredulously. The image of her dressed to perfection while gnawing at a greasy chicken bone made my chest tighten in preparation for a loud laugh.

  “I put on my dress first then had to do my hair. But it was wet so I had to let it dry. And I was hungry…” She pointed her finger at me. “What happened to not judging?”

  “I wasn’t,” I said immediately. “I just…nevermind.”

  “What?” she pressed.

  I couldn’t process my thoughts into words because I didn’t really understand what I was thinking or feeling. It was more of a sensation, an awareness of how I felt. I went with the best explanation I could find. “You’re the coolest chick ever.”

  “Oh.” She looked at the ground then tucked her hair behind her ear, clearly embarrassed by my words. Then she adjusted her clutch. “You’re pretty cool too…”

  “Not like you,” I said. “I’m stiff and boring.”

  “Are you fishing for compliments right now?” she asked. “Because it’s really annoying when people do that.”

  I chuckled. “No...”

  She pressed me with her look.

  “Okay, maybe.”

  She hit my arm playfully. “You’re the funnest person I’ve ever met. Don’t tell Harper I said that.”

  I’d never gotten a compliment like that before. I usually got comments about my appearance and my physique. It was the first time someone noticed something else, and it was a nice change. “Why, thank you.”

  “Are you done fishing?”

  “I think I caught a pretty big one.”

  “Then let’s go.” She took a step forward. “Wait, why were you staring at me like that?”

  Should I tell her? “Your other nails still aren’t painted…”

  She immediately looked at the nails on her right hand. “Goddammit.”

  I chuckled. “I doubt anyone will notice.”

  “You noticed,” she countered.

  “But I was intentionally looking for it.”

  “Oh well,” she said with a sigh. “It’s too late now.” She turned to me and shrugged.

  When I looked into her face, I noticed something in the corner of her mouth. It was an orange spot, almost unnoticeable.

  “What now?” she asked.

  I tried not to laugh. “You have hot sauce in the corner of your mouth…”

  She rolled her eyes. “Of course I do.” She wiped the left side of her lip.

  “Other side,” I said, holding back my laugh.

  She used the back of her hand to wipe the area but she missed.

  Without thinking, I moved my hand to her cheek and wiped away the sauce with the pad of my thumb. When I felt her skin, warmth washed through me. Quickly, it burned and radiated everywhere. I’d never touched her this way before, and I was suddenly aware of how close we were. Her breathing was quiet a moment ago but now it was amplified, loud in my ears. Her eyes sparkled like the lights on a Christmas tree, and I was aware of the scent of peppermint on her breath. I was close, closer than I’d ever been, and like a moth to a flame, I felt like I was going to get sucked into her light even though I knew it would kill me. But I still wanted to get close.

  I pulled my hand away and looked at the skin of my thumb. “There,” I said. “I got it.” I cleared my throat, suddenly feeling the buildup of unsaid words deep in my mouth.

  “I’m such a slob,” she said. “Whatever.”

  “Whatever?” I asked, amused.

  “You know how you have flaws that you constantly try to change, but no matter what you do, you can’t get rid of them?”

  “I don’t have any flaws.” I gave her a cocky grin.

  She gave me a glare but the look was full of amusement. “Actually, you do. You’re a cocky son-of-a-bitch.”

  “Oh.” I pretended to be surprised. “I guess there’s a first for everyone.”

  She shook her head then walked away. “Let’s go and get this dinner over with. I’m starving.”

  “Didn’t you just eat chicken wings?” I asked incredulously.

  “Not judging, reme
mber?”

  I smiled then walked beside her, trying not to laugh.

  But with her that was always difficult to manage.

  ***

  We were a block from the restaurant when Chase called me.

  “Goddammit,” I said when I looked at the screen. He could be calling me because he needed me to pick up a bag of chips or dishwasher soap, or he could be calling me because he was having a panic attack somewhere. If it was the latter, his call couldn’t come at a worse time. I wanted to ignore the call but I couldn’t.

  Aspen turned her head my way. “Everything okay?”

  I stopped walking and moved out of the path of walkers toward the dry cleaner shop we were standing in front of. “I’m sorry. I need to take this.”

  “That’s okay.” Concern was in her eyes but she didn’t say anything more. She joined me near the building but stayed a few feet away, trying to give me privacy.

  I took the call, hoping he was just inviting me over to watch the game. “Chase?” I said when I answered.

  “Come get me.” His voice shook. “I’m stuck and I can’t get out.”

  Now of all times? I wanted to scream and tell him I was sick of this idiotic phobia. It was controlling my life. I couldn’t move anywhere because I had to be near him, not that I wanted to, but that wasn’t the point. It was interfering with my life. I loved my brother but he didn’t have a real illness. It was all in his head. “Chase, I’m working right now.”

  “I know. I’m sorry.” His voice was shaking. “I was walking down an alley when a street light came on. Now I can’t move. They’re going to get me…” Fear was heavy in his voice.

  I eyed Aspen, who was watching people pass on the sidewalk, and then turned my back on her and lowered my voice. “I can’t just leave right now.”

  “I know…I’m sorry. But I can’t move. I’m stuck, Rhett.”

  “No, you aren’t,” I hissed into the phone. “Get up and walk away.”

  “I can’t…” It came out as a shaky whisper.

  “Chase, you can do this,” I said firmly. “Get up and start walking. Just go. Keep your eyes closed.”

  “Please come get me,” he pleaded. “I’m sorry for calling. I wouldn’t unless I had to…”

  I pinched the bridge of my nose then rubbed the area between my eyebrows. A part of me wanted to desert him and force him to figure out the situation on his own, but the other part of me was terrified something would happen to my brother. He would be mugged or beaten. If he was in an alleyway, he wasn’t safe. “Where are you?”