She chuckled. “This very conversation has something to do with it. Besides, it isn’t something a girl advertises. Even to her roommate.”
I nodded. “That makes sense. Sorry if I’m keeping you from your plans, but I’m really freaking happy you showed up when you did. I didn’t know what he was going to do next.”
She sighed. “Yeah. Glad I walked in when I did. Listen, not to tell you how to live or anything, but when is your lease up? Because, I would not want to live across from that douchebag.”
I groaned. “I just renewed the lease last week.”
“Yeah. I graduate in a month, Cass. I hate to say it, but when my family finds out about this, and my uncle and my dad being cops, they’re gonna find out about this, they’ll be gung-ho for me to move now. I’m sorry if that puts you in a financial bind.”
It didn’t put me in a bind, but I had never told Kaylee about my finances.
My parents were loaded. Just before my sister was born, Dad developed and patented a type of digital x-ray machine for dentists to use. Selling the patent was the key to his success, though. On top of that, he had read Peter Lynch’s investment books in the early nineties and knew about Warren Buffet before most other Americans knew about the modest-living billionaire. Now, my parents weren’t billionaires, but they were millionaires.
Despite that, they still lived in the house they bought in 1981 –primarily because it was fully paid-for– and hadn’t bought a new car in over a decade. When Dad and I watched sports, he spent half his time shaking his head, and not because of faulty calls by referees, but because of the side-stories showing the flashy homes and cars the players had bought. He thought college athletes should be required to take a basic accounting course so they’d understand how money really works, but there was a reason he didn’t run a university or a sports agency.
From an early age, Dad taught me about money. When I hit high school, he showed me a few of his investments. I had a trust-fund, and they allowed me to use that money for my living expenses.
Living alone wasn’t my deal, so the rent Kaylee paid me went into a separate brokerage account, and for the past twenty months I’d been investing in earnings options. Trading or selling various puts and calls based on earnings reports, since that was when stocks could be most volatile.
“It’ll be fine, Kaylee. And, you’re right. I’ll talk to management because one way or the other, Asher isn’t going to be across the fucking breezeway from me if I have anything to say about it.”
She gasped. “Geez! It’s rare you drop an f-bomb, Cass!”
“Kaylee! It’s not everyday I get backhanded by an ex-boyfriend because he saw my friend leave early in the morning and he wrongly assumed I’d slept with that friend. So, if ever there was call to use the f-word, by God, this is it!”
Her face fell. “Oh no! Now I feel like a humongous douche. If I hadn’t brought—”
“Stop! No. You can’t blame yourself. All of it is on Asher. He has a screw loose. I’m surprised I never realized that, and more, I can’t believe I never saw him coming or going.”
Her head tilted. “You know, I saw him almost every time I left here. Thing was, he looked familiar and I couldn’t figure out why.”
“Well, I had just broken up with him when you moved in.”
She nodded and snapped her fingers. “That’s right. And not long after, you took that framed photo of the two of you off the mantle –and that’s where I had seen him. It just didn’t connect.”
I shrugged. “Well, Monday, I’m filing a restraining order.”
She smiled. “I know some people if you need help with that. You sure you don’t want to come with me to Stacey’s? We’re hitting a club. After a night like tonight, you need to let your hair down.”
I shook my head. “No. You have fun, though. Besides, as bad as I look right now, I wouldn’t want to keep you all from getting in the door.”
“Puh-leez! You drop Gabe’s name or text his ass, he’d get you in no problem.”
“Go! I’m gonna take some Advil, and call it a night.”
2Shoved His Way In Here
Cassie
KAYLEE LOVED FRUITY drinks, which meant we had a wide variety of flavored vodkas, rums, and whiskeys, along with various mixers. I had just poured myself a blue coconut-pineapple slush cocktail when there was a knock at the door. It startled me so badly, I fumbled with getting the blender container back on the base.
“It could be the police following up, Cassie,” I whispered to myself as I tip-toed to the door.
To my surprise, Gabe stood at the door, but he looked mighty unhappy.
I opened the door to see him dressed for his gig. Dark trousers, black dress shirt with glossy burgundy vertical stripes, and his hair perfectly styled. His eyes hit my face and his lips pressed into a tight line.
His voice was rough when he spoke. “Can I come in?”
I nodded and stepped out of the way.
When I closed and locked the door, he stood in my way.
His blue eyes glittered. “Christ. What the fuck happened? Brock said there was police activity over here when he drove in, but I didn’t think it involved you. Still, I had to be sure. Why didn’t you fuckin’ call me, Cassie?”
I closed my eyes because those words... Those words were as poisonous as they were sweet. And that was why I didn’t call him. He wasn’t mine to call when ‘shit hit the fan’ as Kaylee put it. I had wanted to call him because he cared. I knew he would be here, being sweet and protective, but that was where the poison hid. It was poisonous to depend on his sweet, protective side because we were just friends. My wanting more
