Good Girl : An Enemies-to-Lovers Roommate Romance (Alphahole Roommates Book 2) Page 2

  Obviously, Dad can’t go himself for medical reasons.

  So, I’m up.

  I hated living in New York when I spent a semester there, my first year of college. While I was there, I got in a fist fight that almost meant an assault charge, got mugged, got my heart stomped on by a cold-hearted cheating bitch, and just generally didn’t enjoy the lifestyle there. Bottom line, I’m an orange guy, not an apple guy. I like a view of the ocean not of a bunch of skyscrapers.

  My face must relay how I’m feeling about this, so Aiden pipes up.

  “Stay at my place.”

  Aiden has a sweet condo with a multimillion-dollar view just a two-minute drive from the office, though with New York traffic, it’s usually fifteen or twenty minutes. Still. I’m not a fan of the idea of spending months there. Or of having to do a reorganization, which is always ugly.

  “In fact, I have a girl that worked for me, but I had to let her go a while ago since we barely used it. You want her to look after the place, cook, do your shopping, re-hire her. Carly talked to her last week, I think; they stay in touch. She’s a go-getter. I’ll send you her number.”

  “I probably don’t need a housekeeper,” I say.

  “You’re gonna be busy with that clusterfuck up there, Auz,” my father throws in, “Having the apartment kept in order, kept in scotch and food would not hurt. You’ll be there two or three months and you do best when you’ve got order around you, son. I see you putting in a lot of late nights. I’ll authorize putting that housekeeper on CC payroll. Sweeten the pot for you. She’s good, Aid?”

  “Yeah. I’d hire her again,” Aiden says.

  “All right, yeah. Get me her number, Aid. Or, Dad, maybe you can just have Alice make those arrangements for me? I’ve got a full plate this week with work. Also got me a bachelor party to host.” I flash a smile, hiding my real feelings about going to New York.

  “Sure,” Dad says, “I’ll have it taken care of.”

  Aiden’s eyes light up as I wiggle my eyebrows but then his expression changes. He sees through my smile.

  But beyond the New York thing, I am happy for my brother, looking forward to the long weekend getaway for his wedding. I could use a breather, though being Aiden’s best man won’t get me that. Dad goes on to tell us I should go straight to New York from St. Kitts.

  2

  Austin

  Five of us make our way into Club Foxxx at the end of the night, and not because I want to – because my brother put the squeeze on our brother-in-law until he spilled the beans about where the girls are.

  I didn’t realize it was happening until we pulled up.

  “Why, Aid?” I ask, trying to stop my brother from going in.

  “Because I need to see her, Auz,” Aiden defends.

  “This is supposed to be your bachelor party.”

  “I had my bachelor party. It was great.” He slaps my back.

  “You’ll see her on the plane in the morning,” I volley.

  “Don’t you want your last night of freedom?” Our buddy Jude puts in. “Puttin’ those shackles on early? Shame.” He shakes his head. “You might look back and wish differently.”

  “Yeah, well I need to see her tonight, man, and if I didn’t feel this, maybe it’d mean I’m about to marry the wrong girl.”

  Jude snickers. “Point taken. But who the fuck are you and what’ve you done with Aiden?”

  Aiden grins over his shoulder at Jude while he gets out of the limo.

  What he just said sounds sweet, but I know my brother and he’s not full of hearts and rainbows while he’s imagining his girl right now. No, Aiden is thinking with his dick, especially now that he’s had more than a few drinks.

  We started the bachelor party festivities with twelve of us, some guys from work, some friends of Aiden’s from college. The group has now dwindled to five.

  The day started early with paint ball and then the driving range and batting cages before we started our late afternoon pub crawl through a few micro-breweries. Dinner happened on a chartered boat cruise with some gambling in a charity casino and more drinks before finding ourselves at a strip joint a little over an hour ago.

  We only lasted that hour before Aiden insisted on choosing the next stop. This one.

  “The next stop is home to bed, bro,” I told him. “I figured we’d close this place.”

  “Meh. I’m done here. One more stop. Another drink not far from here. I know a place; I’ll give the driver the address.”

  My brother looked happy. He’s looked happy all day. He’s slapped me on the back with a big grin multiple times, obviously enjoying his bachelor party.

  I’ve had three warning texts from Carly’s friend Ally, who informed me that Aiden’s pretty face had best not get mucked up during his bachelor party or I would be paying for her Photoshop skills on the wedding pictures.

  Aiden told me beforehand he wanted to skip the strip club, and when a few of the other guys whined, he agreed to go, but not until I got permission from Carly. He would not live that down any time soon judging by how the rest of the guys reacted.

  I got permission but not before I made assurances.

  Like - no lap dances. Like - no women would lay hands on my brother. Carly put forth these conditions after Aiden forbid her from going to a male strip show.

  Apparently Aiden got wind that Ally had plans to take the bachelorette party to some Down Under male dancer show and this resulted in an argument between Aiden and Ally. Carly really didn’t care if she went or not, stated she was along for the ride and trusted her maid of honor to make the plans, but as soon as Aid got wind that a strip joint was part of tonight’s plan, he laid down the law.

  No male strippers for Carly.

  Then, finding out I’d made a strip joint part of our plans, I had to get on the phone and broker a peace deal on Aiden’s behalf.

  Aiden wouldn’t lay hands on a stripper and I wouldn’t let them touch him.

  “Someone touches him, I hold you responsible, Austin,” Carly told me, before passing the phone to Ally.

  It was too late for Carly and the girls to go to that show that Ally wanted to take them to and for that reason Ally was pissed hearing I had a strip joint lined up, and I was informed that if Carly caught wind of any rules being broken tonight, the girls would belatedly go to that Aussie show and make sure Carly was centerstage getting given the star bachelorette treatment.

  Seeing my brother go apeshit over the idea of his girl at a male strip joint was comical as he had never been the jealous type or even much of a commitment type. But he was convinced it’d be a bump and grind fest and I did not disagree. In fact, that idea likely stemmed from a conversation with Aiden and me a couple years back.

  One of my exes made me sit through Magic Mike with her. It didn’t hurt that she was fully primed and ready for an all-nighter by the time it was over, but I wasn’t just bored, I was borderline disgusted at the level of hypocrisy. Aiden’s level of concern tonight was most likely down to the fact I’d been so verbal about it a week or so later during a night out where Aiden was there. I got into a debate with my then-girlfriend about how guys would be bounced out on their ear laying hands on a female exotic dancer, but the rules were different for the male strip joints. Evidently, Aiden remembered my rant. He didn’t want the woman he loved being manhandled by a male entertainer angling for dollar bills to be stuffed into his G-string.

  And in fact, once we were there at our reserved booth, my brother looked bored with the girls trying to get in his space. He fucked around on his phone, turned his back to the stage repeatedly and waved away any women that approached. Except… then a dancer took the main stage and did an exotic belly dance number to that song Hips Don’t Lie. It struck me that the stripper looked not only like the artist who did that song, but she also looked a little like Carly. And Aiden’s neck twisted, and he was no longer sitting with his back to the stage.

  And now he’s dying to see Carly, probably imagining her giving
him a lap dance.

  ***

  Club Foxxx is, as per usual, loud and crowded. The place has been hot since it opened. It’s not hard to find the girls; they have a VIP booth, the very same booth as that night when Aid got into a brawl on the dancefloor over Carly. That was the night I spent getting to know Meryl. Or thinking I was getting to know her. Whatever.

  All that was over, it’s been months. It’s time for me to stop feeling bitter about it.

  Carly and Ally are huddled with drinks, looking like they’re in serious conversation. Four other girls are at their table, two from the office and the other two I don’t know. I see a couple empty seats with drinks, so the others are likely dancing. I know Adele is here so she must be on the dancefloor.

  A redhead sitting beside Ally sizes me up with lust flaring in her eyes. She has the look of a maneater, and I am not interested.

  I catch something pass between Carly and Ally and then both their eyes are on Jude. He gives Ally a dark look. Is something up with them?

  I know he’s not coming to the wedding; he’s said he can’t get out of town because of work.

  I say something is for sure up with them. She feigns a look of disinterest as he stares her down while Aiden approaches his bride-to-be with a big smile.

  Ally thinks she’s hiding it but she’s terrible at it. Her knees jiggle under the table as she examines her phone screen and mutters something to Carly.

  But Carly? She’s paying no attention to Ally now. Her eyes are lit with fire and lust as she takes in my brother approaching her.

  “Dance with me, Peaches.” He reaches out his hand.

  She lifts her hand and then snatches it back, smile fading. “Did you go to the strip joint?” she demands.

  “I did. These fuckers dragged me there. I wanted nothing to do with it, baby. Two drinks and here I am.”

  “Did any girl lay hands on you?”

  “Not one.”

  “Not three?” she retorts with eyebrows up.

  “Not any, Peaches.”

  “Did you see any boobies?” Ally asks, sipping her drink.

  “None better than these,” Aiden’s eyes are on Carly’s rack. I look the other way, so I don’t find myself eying the same rack.

  “There was a Carly lookalike doin’ a belly dance,” Zack, Aiden’s college buddy calls out.

  Carly laughs.

  Aiden beams a smile at her and shrugs.

  “I might buy me some boobies with my next CC bonus,” Ally says, staring down at her chest.

  Ally Kingston is a huge personality in a tiny package with her big, expressive blue eyes. She’s small-chested with great skin and great legs.

  She’s always doing weird shit with her hair. It was pink, then it was jet black. I think it changed a couple more times, too. I’ve lost track. Right now she’s got multi-colored dreadlock extensions halfway down her back in multiple colors – telling us she’s going for the look of a rainbow mermaid for Carly and Aiden’s beach wedding. The chick has lots of tatts, a strange fashion sense, and yet she’s also appealing. She’s one of those women you get curious about. She’s fun. Bubbly. Extroverted.

  I’d wager a guess she’s great in bed. She’d be the type – if I didn’t work with her and if she wasn’t best friends with my future sister-in-law – that I’d sleep with and then put into the friend zone. Because it’d be fun, but she wouldn’t be relationship material for me.

  I know the night Jude met her his interest was piqued; it was written all over his face. She seemed more than mildly interested in Jude who is a big, built, tattooed guy himself. Practically announced her intent right there and all but threw herself at him. Apparently their evening got interrupted by his job and she’s been giving him the brush-off ever since. Or so I last heard. And I know Jude isn’t happy about that and says he thinks she’s hiding something. As soon as she found out he’s a private eye, she went from piping hot to cold.

  Jude told Aiden he wanted to investigate her. Apparently Carly put a stop to it and told them both to mind their own business.

  As far as I can tell, this intrigued Jude all the more.

  3

  Jada

  “Jada?”

  Knock-knock-knock.

  “Jada!”

  Knockknockknock.

  “Jayjay-”

  “Not funny!” I snap, throwing the pillow in his direction. It misses.

  My brother Shane considers it a sport to get me up in the most annoying of ways. He should have an Olympic gold medal in his possession for it.

  His next move is a dirty one.

  He hauls my blanket off, leaving me shivering.

  I bolt up and glare at him. He’s in my doorway and looking like something the cat dragged in while he holds my pillow and blanket, a goofy grin on his unshaven face.

  “You said to make sure you got up,” he explains.

  “Shane.” My voice has gone from annoyed to concerned.

  He usually looks impish when he wakes me creatively. He doesn’t look that way at all right now.

  Shane’s eyes are bloodshot, his long dirty-blonde hair is everywhere, and the hand he’d just been knocking with has scabs on each knuckle. And beyond that, he just looks – bad.

  “What happened?” I ask.

  My eyes dart to my digital alarm clock. It’s earlier than I need to get up and I didn’t ask him to wake me.

  “Couldn’t sleep.”

  I shake my head. “To your hand?”

  “Oh.” He flexes his fingers while he examines it. “Dunno.”

  Lies.

  Or worse, blackouts. Not more blackouts, please.

  “Did you miss taking your meds yesterday, Shane?” I do my best to ask this gently.

  “Ran out.”

  He looks away when he says this.

  “When? Yesterday?”

  “While ago.” He waves his hand dismissively as my heart plummets. “Got thirty bucks, Jayjay?”

  And now I’m ticked.

  I glare at him. “Why didn’t you tell me you were out of your medication?”

  “C’mon, Jayjay,” he drawls, looking exasperated. “Thirty. I’ll get you back soon.”

  “You need thirty to get your pills?”

  “No… need two hundred and three for my pills. I need thirty for something to take the edge off not having a hundred and eighty-three. You got it?” He reaches for my leather backpack purse on the hook on the back of my bedroom door as I absorb the fact that those numbers weren’t even the same.

  “No!” I snap, rising and pointing at him. “Stay out of my bag. I don’t even have an extra dime right now.”

  “No?” His face falls. “Damn. You sure you don’t have twenty-seven or something?”

  “I told you, rent is due the day after tomorrow and my entire pay plus the tips I’ve saved up for two weeks will only just cover us. Just. We’re gonna be living on Ramen, rusty tap water, and air for the foreseeable. I take it you didn’t go to that job expo yesterday?”

  His eyes go blank for a second and then a wrinkle forms over the bridge of his nose. “It was a fuck-about. Stood in line for three hours and they said it was already full.” He starts biting on his nails, which are already bitten to the quick – this is another sign he’s off the rails and lying to me.

  This feels like a typical Shane excuse, but there’s no point in saying so.

  There’s no point in asking just how long he’s been off his meds. It’s obvious to me that it’s long enough that he can’t sleep and looks like he’s either been on a bender or is about to step off the ledge to go on one.

  I don’t even want to ask what his magical ‘take the edge off’ thirty-dollar cure is. Illicit drugs, no doubt, though he won’t outright admit it to me, knowing I’ll lose my mind if I think he’s back on drugs again, so no point in asking about that either.

  There’s also no use pushing about why his knuckles are all scabby – I know he won’t tell me the truth, if he even remembers. Injuries he can’t e
xplain are one of the things that often happens when he’s off his medication. Fibbing is another, though I think he’s trying to protect me from the truth more than trying to be deceptive.

  The only thing I can do right now is go take my shower and get ready for my shift at the coffee cart. Shane woke me thirty minutes early, something he tends to do when he’s spiraling like this, anxious to talk to me, pretending to be my human alarm clock, but I’m up. And I know that when I leave, he’ll try to find another way to get some money, and then he’ll crash for the day. Another day will go by where he does nothing to help himself. Or me, who is trying desperately to help us both.

  “What about the clinic? When do you go again?”

  “I missed two appointments so now I’m on the wait list,” he says. “That’s why I need the thirty-six bucks. There’s something holistic that’ll help.” He looks at me with eyebrows quirked.

  “I don’t have thirty-six dollars.”

  Holistic. I don’t even ask. It’s probably magic mushrooms, or that dream DMT stuff, or something like that.

  My big brother’s life has been an ongoing rollercoaster of a battle with mental illness, self-harm, and substance abuse. He lives with me because after losing a job and getting evicted with his last downhill spiral, he moved back in with Dad. Dad had strict rules for him staying, but Shane screwed up, resulting in Dad coming home to a party in his house after a hunting trip ended early. Shane was getting Narcan administered to him in the bathroom by his then-girlfriend when Dad walked in and Dad lost it and tossed him out as well as the twenty-or-so people hanging out in Dad’s living room smoking dope, doing lines, and the biggest sin of all – sitting in Dad’s recliner.

  Things have been rough for Shane since then. He moved in with me and shortly after that, he ended things with his girlfriend because Shane tried to get clean and take care of his mental health and she wouldn’t try to kick her drug habit. She died of an overdose almost two months ago and I think that’s when things went extra-bad with Shane’s state of mind.