Wanted: A Bad Boy Romance (9 page)

“Where’s Titan?” I ask at dinner
Friday night. “Haven’t seen him lately. Is he putting in overtime at the shop?”

Mom glances at Lewis who sets his
fork aside. The clinking of the metal on china fills the quiet space between
the three of us.

“He found a place,” Lewis says,
chewing his filet mignon.

“He moved out, sweetie.” Mom
places her hand over mine.

Seriously? He didn’t even say
goodbye.

My ears burn, and I try my
hardest to maintain my cool around them. I can’t believe I spread my legs for
Titan and he bolted out of here without saying goodbye. It’s not like we were
friends or anything, but I can’t help feeling like it was a giant slap in the
face.

Common courtesy dictates that a
person should notify other people in the household when they’re moving out.

“It’s not like he had much to
take with him.” Lewis sips his wine and chuckles. I fail to see the humor in
the situation, but then again, I’m used to Lewis’ lack of sympathy for Titan.

I’ve never told Lewis, but I
think what Titan did was noble. In several of my criminology cases, we’d study
people like him. The ones who made a bad decision, acted in the heat of a
moment, wanted to right a wrong. They were different from the career criminals
though society treats them just the same.

“Did you ask if he needed
anything?” Laticia says to my father. “I can’t imagine he has much by way of
furniture. I’m sure I’ve got some extra kitchen items he could have. Shoot.
I’ve got a ton of things he can have. So many items just sitting in boxes in
the boathouse.”

“If you want to spend
your
weekend sifting through junk and driving it across town
to his dump, by all means. I won’t stop you.” Lewis’ lips pull into a frown
until he looks at me. “How’s the internship going, Jordana?”

“Fine, thank you.” I slice my
steak. “I’m learning quite a bit, and I’ve heard this district tends to hire
interns after graduation. Hoping this will help me get my foot in the door.”

“Absolutely, absolutely.” He
nods, taking another sip of wine. His glass is almost empty now. So is Mom’s.

I glance at the bruschetta
sitting on a tray in front of me, garnished with herbs and fresh tomatoes from
the garden. Mom stopped cooking like this after Jerome died, but being with
Lewis has given her a new sense of purpose. Lewis appreciates these five
star
, four course dinners every night, and Mom enjoys making
them.

“How do you like the potato
galette?” Mom asks. I shudder to think of how much time it took her to slice
those potatoes thin and arrange them in a fancy pattern. Who has time for that?

For a second, I forget about
being upset with Titan.

Instead, I wonder what he’s
eating tonight.

Ramen?

Cold cereal?

I wonder if his apartment is
nice. Clean.

We’re holed up in this gorgeous
lake house on a scenic road eating filet mignon and he’s scraping by.

I shouldn’t feel sorry for him
though. Obviously he can survive in this world just fine. It’s just hard to sit
across from Lewis and see firsthand how little he cares about his son.

Titan has no one.

My heart squeezes. Lack of
familial support is one of the leading causes of recidivism in the system.
Titan’s incident was a one-time thing, an assault against the man who killed
his mother and sister. I don’t think he’s dumb enough to do anything like that
again, but I’ve read case studies detailing men in his situation who’ve
resorted to a criminal lifestyle when walking a straight path wasn’t getting
them anywhere.

He’s institutionalized. Hardened.
His record is tarnished. Doors have closed to him. He could have a heart of
gold and the real world would still shit all over every opportunity he’s got.

“Where’s his apartment?” I ask as
soon as Mom and Lewis take a break from discussing the latest presidential
candidate’s campaign antics.

“Pardon?” Lewis says, his brows
furrowing. He heard me just
fine,
I think he’s just
curious as to why I need the information.

“I’d be happy to run some things
over to him,” I say. “The guy’s got nothing. I’ve got a tote full of stuff from
my old college apartment he can have. Dishes. Lamps. That sort of thing.”

Mom and Lewis exchange looks as
she toys with the diamond cross necklace around her neck
;
a gift from Lewis on their three month anniversary. She hasn’t removed it
since. Believing Jerome’s in Heaven, watching down on her, is the closest thing
she has to peace these days.

“That’d be all right,” Lewis
says, leaning back in his chair and narrowing his gaze at me. He knows
something’s up. At least I think he does.

“I’ve read several studies on the
importance of helping former inmates get on their feet after release. Plus he
doesn’t need to spend his money on new things when these work just fine,” I say
with a sweet smile. “Anything I can do to help, I will. It’s my passion. I want
to see him succeed in life.”

Lewis almost rolls his eyes.

“I think that’s a wonderful idea,
sweetie.” Mom covers my hand again, rubbing my thumb with hers. “You’re very
kind to want to help. I’m sure Titan will appreciate it. Stopping by with those
things will be a nice surprise for him.”

I don’t know if he’ll appreciate
it, but he’ll certainly be surprised.

***

The stairs to Titan’s apartment
are narrow, and they creak. Stained, sticky carpet glides against the underside
of my shoes. A giant plastic tote fills my arms, and it grows heavier with each
upward step.

His place is the last door on the
right. The number seven on the door hangs upside down.

Taking a deep breath, I rap three
times on the door. It’s ten o’clock on a Friday. I have no clue if he’s home. He
could be in bed by now. Or he might be with someone. Maybe I should’ve called
first, but all I could think about were all the things I wanted to say to him.

Things that
couldn’t wait.

The door swings open a moment
later. Titan’s muscled frame fills the doorway, his elbow resting against the
wood. He scratches his chin, and drinks me up and down with a sideways glance.

“You going to invite me in?” I
ask.

He steps back, motioning for me
to come inside.
 

I drop the tote on the floor and
look around. The place is hardly the size of my bedroom – his old room
– back at the lake house. It smells awful: like stale cigarette smoke and
must.

“What are you doing here,
Jordana?” He shuts the door, hooking his hands on his hips. I’m not sure how I
missed the fact that he’s completely shirtless, but there he is. Standing
before me. Nothing but low-hanging sweats, rippled abs, and a jacked chest
covered in intricate tattoos.

“I had no idea you’d moved out,”
I say, arms folded.

“Wasn’t aware I had to keep you
in the loop.”

“It’s common courtesy.”

“Why? Because you think we’re
some kind of family now or because I fucked you?”

I stand straight, daring myself
to hold his intense stare.

“You don’t just have sex with
someone and disappear,” I say. “It’s confusing…”

He scoffs. “What part of that is
confusing? We didn’t have sex. We fucked. Huge difference.”

“I don’t like feeling used.”

“You used me just as much as I
used you.”

None of my feelings make sense.
None of my arguments feel like my own. Everything coursing through my body is
unfamiliar, foreign.

I hate that I had sex with him.

And I hate that I want to have
sex with him again.

“You weren’t used,” he says.

“Easy for you to say.”

“The hell does that mean?”

“Men are wired differently,” I
say. “You’re programmed to be able to-”

Titan’s head snaps back and he
groans. “Need to get your damn nose out of those fucking textbooks. Not everything
can be chalked up to research and studies.”

“Yes it can.” My gaze narrows.
“It’s science.”

“Sometimes…sex is just sex. Gotta
take the science out of it.” He crouches down to the tote, popping off the lid
and pulling out all the things I’d shoved in there in haste shortly after
dinner. “Anyway, what’s this got to do with me? You think you’re my fucking
girlfriend now?”

My heart leaps. That’s not my
point at all. God. I don’t want him thinking that I’m in love with him now.

“Absolutely not. No.” I can taste
the desperation in my voice. I’m desperate to ensure he knows I’m not suddenly
crushing on him.

Titan lifts a toaster and sets it
aside, picking through the next few items. “Right. So why are you really here,
Jordana?”

I…don’t know.

All I know is my insides are
firing on all cylinders, and I can’t handle the way my body reacts when I think
about that night. Titan’s coursing through me like a poison, and as far as I
know, no anti-venom exists for a condition like this.

“I told you,” I say. “Just dropping
off a few things for you.”

Our eyes meet again. He rakes his
chin and smirks before glancing away.

“Prison’s full of liars,” he
says. “You meet enough of them, you get good at seeing right through them. Kind
of become a human lie detector by the time it’s all said and done.”

“I should go.” I push past him,
heading toward the door, but he blocks me.

“I know why you’re here,
Jordana.” His voice is low, humming through his chest. We’re close now, the
distance between us narrow. He smells like soap and aftershave.
The cheap, drugstore kind.
Extra rugged and unapologetically
in-your-face. His scent consumes me, fills me.

My arms
cross
tight
, snugly secure across my chest as I try and steady my breathing.

“You do, do you?” I ask, though
it’s more of a statement.

“You came back for more,” he
smirks, his expression relaxing. “I’m flattered, Jordana. Really. But it was a
one-time thing. You’ll have to get your bad boy fix somewhere else. Shop is
closed.”

My jaw falls to the floor, my
face pinching.

Who
does he think he is
?!

“Believe me, I do not want to
sleep with you again.” I’m not one to make a habit out of telling bold-faced
lies, but in this case, I don’t have a choice. “Once was enough.”

The tightness in my chest must
stem from hurt. I despise the fact that regardless of what happens from here on
out, I want him to want to fuck me again.

“Once is never enough,” he says.
“But I’m not looking for something regular, get what I’m saying?”

“No one said anything about being
fuck buddies.”

“It’s cute that you pretended to
drop this shit off so you could see me again,” he says. “But I see right
through you. You want to hook up. It’s not happening.”

“Oh. Oh!” I laugh. “I see where
this is going. You’re using reverse psychology on me. You think the more you
push, the more I’m going to pull.”

And it’s sort of working…

Titan’s dark brows set. “Not at
all. I’m being honest with you. I do not want to fuck you right now.”

His words
sting.
But I won’t allow myself to cry. I don’t believe him. He’s
a criminal. Criminals lie. It’s what they do best. They keep their secrets and
true intentions guarded and tucked
away,
pulling them
out only when they need them to get something they want.

“You just looked to the left,” I
say.

“What?”

“You looked to the left when you
said that,” I repeat. “Studies have shown if someone looks to the left while
they speak, they’re lying.”

He laughs.

“It’s statistically proven,” I
say. “Thoroughly researched. And you’re fidgeting.”

I glance at his hands, watching
the way his fingers flick around his low waistband.

“And you keep repeating
yourself,” I say. “The more you say you don’t want to fuck me, the more I know
you’re lying. Because who are you trying to convince, Titan?”

My lips curl into a satisfied
smile.

“Of course I want to fuck you,”
he says, shifting his weight to his other foot. “But it doesn’t mean I’m going
to.”

“It’s not like you had the chance
anyway.” I reach behind him, for the doorknob. I’m ready to go. I’m done with
this shit show and his twisted little mind games. It was idiotic of me to come
here.

His hand covers mine.

“For someone who doesn’t want me
around, you sure are hell bent on making me stay.” I leave my hand under his,
but it’s not like I have a choice. He’s presence alone is powerful enough to
make my knees lock in place.