Down for Her Read online

  Brett lets a huff of air out of his nostrils, kind of like a dragon.

  Tori slides into our tumultuous circle and takes my hand. “I think our newbie’s had enough of this testosterone for the moment. Come with me, girl. I’ll get you a drink.”

  She pulls me from the man sandwich toward a keg with a bag of plastic cups beside it. “I take it they’re not besties?” I ask Tori.

  “That’s an understatement. It’s kind of my fault though. I had a thing with Jack last year that ended badly. Brett’s like the overprotective brother I never asked for.” She grabs a couple of cups from the bag.

  “Like a brother?” I ask, my curiosity getting the better of me.

  She gives me a knowing grin as she pumps the keg. “Brett and I have known each other since we were little. We grew up in the same trailer park.”

  I nod as if I’ve known lots of trailer parks in my time.

  She rolls her eyes like she sees through me. “We’re both seven years older than our brothers. The two of us raised the two of them for the most part. So I guess he’s more like a husband than a brother.” She scrunches up her face. “Without the benefits, of course.”

  I cut my eyes at her. “Never?”

  “Fuck no. I was never interested, and besides that screwing our relationship up with sex was the last thing either of us needed back then. And now, it’s just way too late for anything like that. Besides, I could never be with a guy like him.”

  “Like what?”

  She nods, focused on something. I turn to find Brett talking to a different girl from the one he kissed just a little while ago. He takes her hand and pulls her to his chest, which she falls right into like she’s stepped into quicksand.

  “He definitely likes the ladies,” I say.

  “Ya think? Come on. I’ll introduce you around.”

  Tori diligently introduces me to more people than I can keep up with, telling me what part of the resort they work in. I do a better job remembering departments than names, but I appreciate her efforts.

  I wish this wasn’t the case, but I can’t keep my eyes off of Brett. He stands near the fire, invested in yet another honey when I notice him look at his phone and step away from her. I start to roll my eyes, thinking he’s choosing a booty call over the girl in front of him, but the serious turn of his expression throws me. He puts the phone to his ear, running his hand through his hair, frowning. I can’t put my finger on why I’m so interested in him, other than his overall hotness. But with every minute of this night, I’m finding myself more and more intrigued.

  4

  Brett

  “Don’t panic. Nothing’s wrong, honey,” my mom says by way of greeting. “I just wanted to see if you would pick up Mimi’s prescription on your way over tomorrow.”

  “I know. I got your text. Does she need it now?”

  “It can wait until tomorrow. It’s Friday night. I’m sure you’re out with your friends.”

  “Where’s Matthew?”

  “He left out of here as soon as I got home from work.”

  I walk even farther away from the party, trying not to get irritated with my brother. He’s got his life just like I’ve got mine. I get it. But I’ve been living in that trailer since we moved there from the military base when I was seven years old. He’s old enough now to take on some of the responsibilities I’ve borne since our dad died twenty years ago.

  “Mom, we agreed that you would call on me in emergency situations.”

  “I know, and this is not an emergency.”

  “Yeah, but if Mimi needs her medication, I consider that an emergency.”

  She lets out a sigh. “I tried to pick it up on my way home from work, but it wasn’t ready yet. I used to run out and leave her if it was just gonna be a minute, but I’ve quit doing that.”

  “Next time let’s not play this game. Just text me and tell me to go pick up the prescription.”

  “I swear, honey, if I ever get like this and you don’t put me in a nursing home, I’ll kill you.”

  “You’re one to talk.”

  This is an ongoing argument between my mother and me. Anytime I try to talk my mom into the nursing home, I talk myself out of it just as quickly. Neither one of us can bring ourselves to turn Mimi over to a home, so between the two of us, we’re paying for a sitter to be with her all day while my mom works. Between that and Matthew’s tuition, it’s tough for me to keep up.

  “I’ll be there in an hour,” I say.

  “Take your time. She’s not going anywhere.”

  We end the call, and the blonde who’s sleeping in my bed tonight walks my way, frowning at me in concern. I can’t deal with her wounded sincerity right now. “I was just heading out…unless you have something else in mind.” I nod toward the bed of a rusted-out sailboat, like this uptight, classy-looking woman would ever dream of getting nasty with me a few feet away from forty or fifty of our colleagues.

  She peers inside the sailboat. “I think I’ll pass.”

  I huff a laugh at her and start to walk away, but she grabs my arm. The move surprises me so much I turn to meet her gaze.

  “I know you’re way too cool to have actual feelings and stuff, but if you want to talk about anything, I’ll listen,” she says.

  I’m so taken aback by her offer that I’m tempted to start talking. I could tell her about how my every thought is consumed with taking care of my mom, my brother, and my grandma. I could tell her how every time I talk to my mom, I’m checking for hints of her possibly drinking or using again, and how I haven’t had a decent night’s sleep since my dad died when I was seven. I could tell her about how I can’t fathom a day when I’ll be able to relax, knowing everyone’s safe, because our lives are a carefully stacked house of cards that could collapse at any moment without warning. But instead, I say, “What makes you think I’ve got some big problem you can solve?”

  “You just looked stressed or something.”

  “I’m not.” I back away. “I’m fine.”

  “Sure thing.” She glances around. “I think I’m gonna head to your room. I’m tired. It’s been a long day on the road. Is that where you’re going?”

  I think about the three girls I’ve been bouncing between tonight and watch a night of stress release float away. It’s not like my heart was into it with any of them. And I already lost the first one to Kylie as it was. I was all set to head back to her condo when I caught sight of Kylie talking to Jack Massey. I couldn’t let that go uninterrupted. “Yeah, I’ll walk you back.” We head toward our pile of shoes.

  “I’m not taking you away from your many conquests, am I? Were you going for a foursome?”

  This makes me grin. “You were watching me tonight?”

  “No, of course not. It’s just a small party. You kept getting in my line of sight.” As we search for our shoes, she says, “Tori told me you and she grew up together, but she didn’t say where.”

  “Wabash…just North of here.”

  “What’s in Wabash?” she asks as we head up the steps.

  “Not much of anything.”

  We reach the top of the stairs and walk in silence a minute, and then she says, “So I hear you’re an occupational therapist. How’d you get into that?”

  So she’s one of those. No comfortable silences. “It’s sort of a long story.”

  “Longer than the walk from here to your housing unit?”

  I think about whether or not I want to get into this with her. The last time I shared private info about my family with a girl, it didn’t end well.

  “I’m sorry,” she says. “Was that an intrusive question?”

  I shake my head as we step onto the sidewalk, realizing I’m being paranoid. She’s just making conversation. She’s not Madison. “I found this place when I was sixteen, actually.”

  “You’ve been working here since you were sixteen?”

  “Yeah. I started out at the Circle busing tables for one of the restaurants, then I moved to games.”
/>   “That must’ve been a little more fun,” she says with a smile that threatens to make me return one. “How did you make the move to occupational therapy from games? That seems like quite the leap.”

  I’m damn sure not gonna tell her about my brother. I don’t even know her. “Just did.”

  She looks at me strangely.

  “What?” I ask.

  “I don’t know. It’s just your personality seems to be at odds with itself.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “On one hand, you’re this guy who wants to devote his life to helping little kids, and on the other hand, you have three girls on the hook in the course of about an hour and a half.”

  “I don’t know what to tell you,” I say, picking up my pace.

  She catches up with me. “Tell me you’ll slow down. I think I’m about to blow out a strap on my sandal.”

  I stop and turn to her, and she just smiles at me like she got me.

  I roll my eyes and start walking again. “You ask a lot of questions.”

  “That’s typically what people do to get to know one another.”

  “Why would we need to do that?” I ask.

  She’s silent for a second, and then I give her a partial smile to indicate I’m kidding. It’s her turn to roll her eyes.

  I pull my keys out of my pocket as we approach my car, nodding toward the front door of our unit. “You’ve got your own key card, at least for now.”

  She pulls it out of her pocket. “I assume you’re off to satisfy girl number four?”

  “Something like that,” I say. “See you in the morning.”

  Just as I’m about to slide into my front seat, I hear the voice of my sworn enemy. “You’re headed home early, too?” But Jack’s not talking to me. He’s walking on the lawn toward Kylie, who’s at the front door now.

  She walks in his direction, saying something in return, but I can’t make it out. What’s that asshole doing up here, anyway? He lives in a high-rise on the beach. He’s clearly not funding his brother’s college and his grandma’s healthcare. He was probably walking Bailey or Simone home since he came from the direction of their unit.

  They stand on my front lawn, smiling at each other like idiots. Are they flirting? Fuck, why do I care?

  I start my vehicle and back out of the driveway, leaving the resort and heading toward the pharmacy. I just need to focus on my grandma and getting her meds…and I need to quit wondering if Kylie’s gonna invite that asshole into my house.

  5

  Kylie

  I’ve been awake for half an hour, but I’m almost afraid to move from the bed. Val and Brett must both be sound asleep, because you can pretty much hear a pin drop in here…or a mouse scurrying. Maybe one or both of them never made it home last night.

  I stare at the ceiling, unable to believe I’m in a strange guy’s bed, who’s probably in some strange girl’s bed. If Joshua could see me now, he’d… I wonder what he’d even do? Would he care?

  I check my phone. No more messages from Joshua, but there is one from Samantha.

  Are you doing okay? Just checking in.

  I’m tempted to tell her where I am and what’s happening, because it’s all so bizarre, but I don’t need her trying to send me money. She already gave me two hundred dollars. She tucked it in my purse as we were saying goodbye the other day. “Just in case,” she had said. Little did she know that money has been my saving grace.

  I text back. I’m good. Settled in.

  I text her a little about the resort and the accommodations they provide to kids with disabilities.

  Wow. Sounds like you landed in the right spot. All that experience at your dad’s company will soon be put to very good use! I’m so excited for this venture in your life! Off to greener pastures!

  Ugh. I’m regretting my white lies to my closest friend—the only loyal friend I have left. I just didn’t want her to worry. If she knew I was taking a job as pool attendant, she would never have let me leave without a fight. She might have even done something like contacted my dad for help. I need to do this on my own. I need for her to believe everything’s okay.

  I text her back a smiley face and then stick my phone in my purse. I wander down the hallway, walking softly until I pass Val’s room and find it empty. I head to the living room, peeking over the back of the couch, and it’s unoccupied as well. I’ve been hiding in Brett’s room and the whole place has been deserted, probably all night.

  Venturing into the kitchen, I open the refrigerator door and close it right away when I see it’s nothing but a biohazard in there. I’m not sure I can survive this place, even for a weekend.

  I open the cabinet under the sink to see if there are any cleaning products, and I find a caddy with rubber gloves, floor cleaner, spray cleaner, toilet bowl cleaner and brush, sponges, dishwasher detergent, and a dish scrubber. There’s a bow around it and a note attached that says, Val, clean your floors at least once a week, por favor, mijo. Love, Mamá.

  I can’t help a chuckle, thinking of my own mother leaving a note like this. I’m pretty sure she assumes someone magically handles that for everyone. She’s always had someone clean her house…and so have I, for that matter.

  It hits me that I could clean. Why can’t I? Sure, I’ve never done it before, but it can’t be that hard. The supplies are sitting right here.

  I pull out the caddy and set it on the counter, investigating the bottles. Then I look around at the carnage of this place. You can’t actually clean surfaces until those surfaces are empty. I put on the rubber gloves and grab the trash can. I dump in day/week/month-old food from both the living room and the kitchen. Then I load the dishwasher full of nasty, caked-on pans and put soap in.

  I find a brand-new broom in the closet with the cardboard still on it and sweep the floors in the kitchen and throughout the small dining room, living room, and hallway. I squirt toilet bowl cleaner all over the commode and then stare perplexedly into the water with the black mold on the sides. “How does that get clean?” I ask myself.

  I take to Google, and thanks to a very helpful video, I find that the cleaner actually goes into the water. I decide to let that soak a minute while I figure out how to get the rest of the cleaner off the outside of the toilet. I’m pretty sure there’s no video for that.

  I hear the front door open, and then two guys’ voices sound through the house. I sincerely hope neither of them has to pee right away. I walk into the hallway holding up my gloved hands. “I’m cleaning.”

  “I can see that,” says a cute Hispanic guy. “I’m Val.”

  “I’m Kylie. I hope this was okay.”

  “Sure,” he says, coming down the hallway. “Knock yourself out.”

  I squint at him. “Actually, do you know anything about cleaning toilets? I mean, I understand the inside where the water is, but the outside…is there a special sponge for that or something?”

  He turns around and eyes Brett, who’s coming down the hallway behind him. “Is she serious?”

  “Sounds like it,” Brett says, and they both come into the bathroom, inspecting my work.

  “I didn’t want to use a towel,” I say. “That seems unsanitary…for the towel.”

  Val leaves the room and Brett stands there looking at my phone propped up running a video of a woman mopping floors. “You have curious taste in porn. Is she gonna undress soon?”

  I drop my head to the side. “It’s instructional.”

  “You need instructions on mopping floors?”

  “Clearly you do, as well, by the look of this place.”

  “I just moved in here last weekend.”

  I point at him. “So that’s why Lauren thought this was an open spot. You’d just taken my place.”

  “No, I took my place.” He looks at the toilet. “You do know the cleaner goes inside the bowl, right?”

  “I put it in there.”

  “And everywhere.”

  “I’m trying, okay? Do you have any suggestions?”


  He picks up the bottle and points to the spout. “That’s why it’s angled like this.” He demonstrates for me, circling the rim of the bowl with the cleaner.

  I put my hands on my hips. “That’s not how she did it in the video.”

  He smirks at me. “You watched a video to figure out how to clean toilets, too? Do they not clean where you come from?”

  Val shows up with a roll of paper towels. “Wet some of these and then wipe up the soap.”

  Brett snatches the roll from him and shoves it at his chest. “You wipe it up. It’s your filth.”

  “Yours, too.”

  “I’ve just been here a week. This mold is yours from how long? A year? Two?”

  Val purses his lips at us. “Fine. Get out. Both of you.” Brett ushers me out.

  “I really want to do this solo,” I say. “I’m trying to say thank you for letting me stay.”

  “It’s really not necessary.”

  “Well, if she’s offering…” Val says.

  “Shut up and clean your nastiness,” Brett says.

  “So damn bossy,” Val says, unrolling some paper towels.

  “What self-respecting gay man lives like this, anyway?” Brett asks.

  “I break molds,” Val says and then starts singing.

  Brett closes the door behind him, leaving us standing in his bedroom. “I was actually just gonna go have breakfast with Tori.”

  “Oh, sure. Go.”

  “Did you wanna…come?” he asks.

  As much as I would love to have breakfast, I don’t have the funds. I’m looking at a pack of peanut butter crackers at best. “Nope. I’m cleaning this house.”

  He just stands there, staring at me. I can so easily see why these women around here fall for his charms. He’s got this way of looking at me that makes me feel like I’m the only person on the planet…like I’m not the ditzy blonde that my father and Josh have such a lack of respect for.

  He lifts his eyebrows. “Do you mind if I change?”