Chapter 4
Liz
“Oh, honey! I'm so glad you’re okay,” Mom says as soon as I walk into the store. I’m not sure I am okay; I feel like I’m living in an alternate universe. I’m now girlfriend to the notorious player Trevor Mayson; then this morning, before we left his house, he told me that he would be picking me up and we were, and I quote, “Going to pick out a puppy.” I don’t even have my own place. I still need to look for an apartment, and even in an apartment, I don’t need a dog; so I told him that, and he said, “We’re getting a dog; it’s what couples do.” I shook my head, trying to remember that he had never had a relationship before, so he didn’t know that people who just started dating didn’t buy living things together. They didn’t even buy an inanimate object together. My case was lost when his mouth crashed into mine and I forgot what we were arguing about.
“I'm fine, Mom. I made an appointment this morning with a specialist to get tested.” I hear laughing and turn around to see Britney and Lisa standing near the rack of scarfs. I'm sure that there will be rumors of me having some crazy disease running rampant around town by tomorrow. I look at my mom to see her watching the girls through narrow eyes. I'm not even bothered by them anymore; they’re bullies and have nothing better to do with their time. I start walking to the back of the store, when the bell over the door rings. I turn to see Trevor, Cash, and Nico walk in.
“Hey, baby,” Trevor says.
“Yo,” Cash says, giving me his carefree smile.
Nico walks in, giving me a chin lift.
Cash and Nico walk over towards Britney and Lisa; Trevor comes right to me, his hand to my waist, pulling me a step closer. He bends, touching his mouth to mine. I automatically kiss him back, and when my eyes open, he’s smiling down at me like always. “What are you doing here?”
“We wanted to get something for Ma for her birthday, so we came here to see if you could help us out.”
“Oh, yeah. Sure, just give me a minute. I need to put my stuff down,” I tell him, trying to pull away. But his fingers have hooked on the inside of my jeans, holding me in place.
“How are you feeling?” he asks, and my heart melts into a giant puddle right there in the middle of Temptations.
“Perfect.” I say quietly, watching his face go soft. I love that he cares enough to worry about me. I turn my head; my mom is watching us, smiling like the cat that got the cream. I roll my eyes at her.
“So, Trevor,” my mom says, pushing her way between us. “I know its short notice for booking a flight, but if you can get time off, would you want to go to Jamaica for my wedding? I'm sure you could room with Liz.” She smiles, looking between us like she just solved world hunger with her suggestion.
“Mom, I'm sure he has better things to do.” I'm still trying to get used to the knowledge that he’s my boyfriend. Going to a foreign country with the guy you’re dating is right up there with picking out a puppy; you should be together a while for both. Although, the thought of watching Trevor on a beach in nothing but a pair of board shorts over a long weekend sounds like a good idea.
“Sure, I can make it,” he says. I look at my mom; she’s looking at Trevor. I blink a few times, trying to clear my head.
“You don’t have to come. I'm sure that you have a lot going on with the contract you just got,” I tell him.
“I have three brothers. It’s only three days; they can handle it.”
“Oh,” I say, wondering how the hell this is my life, and when I got sucked into Trevor’s universe.
“Tonight, after we pick our puppy, we can try to get me on the same flight as you. If they don’t have any seats left, you can change your flight to whatever one I’m on.”
“You’re getting a puppy?” my mom cries, clapping her hands.
“Someone kill me,” I mumble, looking at the ceiling.
“What honey?”
“Nothing…I'm going to put my stuff down, then help the guys pick out something for Mrs. Mayson.”
“I’ll help them while you get settled,” my mom says, putting her fingers around Trevor’s bicep. I watch her give it a squeeze, then she looks up at him smiling. “Oh my, so strong. Do you work out?” Oh my God, someone? Anyone? Save me! Trevor smiles down at my mom, answering her in the affirmative. I walk into the back room and put my stuff away. I take a minute to bang my head against the wall a few times before I walk back out into the insanity that has become my life. It’s after the guys left the store, and after my mom came back from her Trevor high, that I get a text from my brother.
Tim: Call me at this number 521-649-4579
I look to make sure my mom is still at the front of the store. “Mom, I'm going to be in the back.”
“Sure, honey.” She motions me away with a wave of her hand. I walk to the back of the store, sit down on a large box, and take a deep breath before dialing the number that he texted me.
“Liz, I need your help,” I hear Tim say through the fuzzy connection.
“You want my help, after you stole from me and Mom? Are you high?” I ask, my voice becoming louder. I stand and peek out the door to make sure my mom didn’t hear anything. Thankfully, she’s still standing behind the cash register.
“I didn’t want to do it.”
“Where is the money, Tim?”
“Listen to me,” he yells. I have never heard my brother yell before; my mouth snaps shut and my eyes close, knowing that whatever is going on is bad. Really bad.
“I know I f*cked up, sis.” He doesn’t say anything else, so I take the phone away from my ear to make sure the call didn’t drop.
“Tim?”
After a few more seconds, he finally speaks, sounding completely defeated. “I have a problem, and I thought that if I could just pay off the people I owed, that I could make a clean start.”
“No,” I whisper, my head falling forward.
“I never wanted this to happen, sis. You have to believe me. I was so depressed, and it was the only thing that could make me forget. Every time I made a bet, I thought, ‘This is it. This is the last time…’”
“So you don’t have a drug problem? You’re addicted to gambling?” I want to make sure I’m hearing him right.
“Yes,” he says softly.
“Why didn’t you talk to me or Mom?”
“What was I supposed to say? I have a gambling problem, and I need money to pay off a loan shark that I stole from?”
“You could have started with that.”
“Are you listening to me at all?”
“Yes!” I yell into the phone. “I'm listening to you. I almost lost my business; I did lose my apartment. I had to get a job at a strip club to try and come up with the money that was due on my business loan.”
“You work at a strip club?” I could hear the anger in his voice.
“I did, until Trevor made me quit, and Mike gave me the money to pay my bills.”
“Mike let you work for him?”
“Are you listening to yourself right now, Tim? You have no right to be mad. I had to work there because of you.”
“I know. But Jesus, Liz, what the f*ck?”
“Don’t worry about it. I'm not working there anymore. Tim, Mike gave me that money, so you’re going to have to find a way to pay him back. You need to come home.”
“I can’t come home right now.”
“Why not?”
“I told you that I was going to pay the guy off that I borrowed from. Well, I did, but he wants interest on the money. I can’t come home until I find a way to get it for him.”
“Tim, stop being stupid and come home. Get a job; maybe you can work for Mike.”
“I don’t want to bring the shit that’s following me to town, Sis.”
“How much money is it that you owe?” I ask, doing calculations in my head, trying to think of what I might have to give.
“Ten G’s.”
“What the f*ck, Tim?” I yell, and then cover my mouth. “You stole over twenty from me. Did you give it all to him, or did you snort it or shoot it up? I mean, that’s a lot of money.”
“I know. That’s why I was calling. I wanted to see if you could loan me the money. I would pay him off, then come home.”
“Tim, I'm not going to send you that kind of money. I don’t even have that kind of money. Just come home and we can figure something out. We can, I just don’t know what will work. I’ll talk to Trevor,” I say, wondering if I really would talk to Trevor. He is already pissed at my brother; this would only add to his list of reasons to dislike him.
“What the f*ck does Trevor Mayson have to do with this shit?”
“We’re dating, and he has a construction company. Maybe you could work for him.”
“You’re dating Trevor Mayson? Are you f*cking stupid?”
“You owe a loan shark lots of money; are you f*cking stupid?” Crap. I didn’t mean to say that. I close my eyes, taking a breath. “Look, I like him, and we’re seeing each other.”
“I'm going to see if I can make it to town. I’ll talk to Mike and see if I can work something out with him.”
“You need to fix this,” I whisper, tears clouding my eyes.
“I haven’t gambled in a few days, okay?” Is that what all addicts say so they can avoid talking about their problems?
“Where are you now?”
“I'm with a friend. I'm sorry, Sis. I never meant for this to happen.”
“Just come home, Tim. Mom’s getting married in a few weeks; she’s going to be expecting you to walk her down the aisle.”
“I’ll see what I can do.”
“Please, come home,” I whisper into dead air. I pull the phone away from my ear, knowing he hung up. I send a silent prayer up to whoever is listening, wipe the tears from my eyes, and start cleaning up the stock room.
*~*~*
“What about that one?” Trevor asks, pointing at a small, fluffy, white dog. I know most girls would go gaga over the small little ball of fur, but to me, he looks like he could get lost easily in my messy room.
“I don’t know,” I say, looking up at Trevor. His hand comes to the back of my head, twisting in my hair; my lips part right before he kisses me. “What was that for?” I breathe, when his mouth leaves mine.
“You look adorable right now,” he smiles, pulling me under his arm, walking us down the long row of dog cages. We drove to the nearest ASPCA after he told me that I didn’t have a choice, and that we were going to pick out a dog whether I liked it or not. So I told him that the only way we were getting a dog was if we adopted one that needed a home. “What about him?” he asks, stopping in front of a cage with a dog that could fit in my pocket and should be on a Taco Bell commercial.
“Um…” I bite my lip and look up at him again. “Do you like small dogs or something?” Every dog he’s stopped to look at has been small.
He shrugs, looking around. “No, I just thought that girls liked small dogs.”
“Trevor, I don’t need a dog right now. I need to find another apartment; even then, I don’t know if I will be allowed to have a dog.”
“First of all, it will be our dog; second of all, you don’t need to find an apartment; you’re staying at Mike’s until you’re ready to move in with me.” All the air in my lungs pushes out. I look at Trevor and he is looking around like he didn’t just tell me that we were going to be living together. Instead, he looks like he just told me what kind of coffee he prefers. “What about him?” he asks, dragging me behind him. My legs are like jelly; I still haven’t taken a breath. I feel lightheaded. When did this relationship start moving at the speed of light? I stumble behind him, my legs taking a second to catch up with me. When we stop, I was looking the opposite direction of him. My eyes land on a giant black dog, and when our eyes meet, its head tilts to the side. I follow and do the same head tilt. We stare at each other for a few seconds before it puts one giant paw up on the door of its cage. I lift my hand, walking towards the dog. When it whines, I know it is the one. I hadn’t even wanted a dog, but know that this guy, or girl, is mine.
“Hi,” I say, walking over to the cage. On the door is some information about the animal. I see that it’s a girl, and they don’t know how old she is, just that someone found her on the side of the road and brought her in. The information packet explains that she’s very friendly, and she seems to be house trained. I squat down in front of her, pressing my hand flat against the cage. Her paw comes up to my hand, and then her wet nose presses against my skin. I put my fingers through the chain link to give her a scratch. “You’re a sweet girl, aren’t you?” I look at Trevor, who has squatted next to me. He doesn’t look too sure about her, but I am; if he doesn’t want her, I'm going to call Mike and see if he will allow me to have a dog. I grab Trevor’s hand and put it against the chain link; she smells him, then licks his palm. “She likes you.”
“So she’s the one, huh?” he asks, looking around at all the other cages. I start to do the same thing, when she whines, pawing the door of the cage. I laugh, sticking my fingers back through to her.
“She’s perfect, don’t you think?” His eyes meet mine, and there is such warmth there, that I hold my breath.
“Yeah, she’s perfect.” He leans forward to kiss me, and then pulls me up to stand with him. “What do you want to name her?” He looks at the card, and then back at me.
“Lolly?” I say, and she barks, making me laugh again.
“Well, let’s go sign the paperwork so we can get Lolly home.” We walk towards the front of the kennel, out the metal doors, and up towards reception.
“Did y’all see one ya liked?” the lady behind the counter asks, smiling. She has on a pair of bright blue scrubs with puppies playing soccer on them. Her nametag says her name is Mabel, and with her white hair pulled back in a loose bun, she looks like a typical southern grandma.
“The Rottweiler in cage seventeen,” Trevor tells her.
“Aw, she’s so sweet. I took her home with me last weekend and she was so good with my grandbabies! You two got any kids?” she asks, looking between us. I started to say no.
“Not yet,” Trevor says, putting his arm around my waist, his thumb hooking on the inside of my jeans. I know I'm completely stiff; I don’t want kids. I told Trevor that the other day when he asked me if I wanted children. Apparently, he only hears what he wants.
“You two will sure make some pretty babies.” I can feel my hands start to sweat at her comment. I love kids, but every time I even think about having my own, I feel panicked. I'm not so delusional that I don’t know exactly where my anxiety comes from. My dad died when I was young. I was abandoned, and don’t want to have a kid and do the same thing to them. Will I get over it one day? I don’t know; but right now, the thought of having children makes me feel nauseous.
I grab the paperwork from her and go to sit down in one of the chairs, trying to get my thoughts back under control. When Trevor comes over to sit down, he looks me over, then leans in like he’s going to kiss me. I lean back; maybe it’s petty, but he needs to hear me and what I'm saying, not whatever he has made up in his head. “I told you the other day that I don’t want kids. That’s not something that is going to change.”
“So, never? You never want kids?” My heart breaks a little in that moment; the thought of never having a child makes me want to curl up and cry, but the thought of having one makes me feel sick.
“I don’t know, to be honest with you.” I look down at my hands, watching my knuckles turn white from squeezing the pen in my hand so tightly. “And I'm sorry; if that’s a deal breaker, then we should just stop right now before feelings get involved.” I look up into his eyes; they are warmly looking into mine, but they’re also concerned. He leans forward, taking my hand and removing the pen.
“Aren’t feelings already involved?” he asks, running his thumb over the back of my hand. I know mine are; I search his eyes, seeing my same feelings reflected back at me. He nods his head, then put his forehead to mine. “We’re going to talk about this. Not right now, not tomorrow, but soon, and when we do, you’re going to be honest with me. And then I'm going to set you straight by telling you that you not giving the gift of your love, kindness, and strength to a child of your own would be a tragedy.” Wow. My breath catches, and I can feel my nose start to sting with tears. I can’t believe that Trevor Mayson can be so sweet. He kisses my forehead, his lips lingering there. “Now, let’s get this done so we can get our dog home.”
“Okay,” I whisper, wiping away a stray tear. We finish filling out the paperwork, which seems to take a lot longer than I expected; you would think that we are trying to apply to work for the Secret Service with the kind of questions they ask.
“So, do y’all want me to get some dog food for ya? At least enough to hold you over for tonight?” I look up at Trevor, realizing that I know nothing about having a dog. I hope he has more experience than I do with this.
“The pet store in town will still be open; so we’ll just stop in there on our way home and get all of the supplies we need for her.”
“Aw, see? Y’all are going to make great parents.” She smiles, and my hands start to get sweaty again. “Let me just put y’all in the system, then I’ll go get her for ya.” She takes our paperwork and starts typing away on the computer; once she’s done, she pulls a new leash out of a plastic bag, stands, and walks to the back room. My heartbeat picks up. I'm excited about this; at first, when Trevor said we were going to get a dog, I didn’t know what to think. Now, knowing that Lolly was going to be going home with us, I was excited. When the door opens, Lolly sees us and starts barking.
“Well, are you ready to go home?” I ask her, patting my thighs and making her more excited.
“Here ya go, darlin’,” Mabel says, handing over the leash. I feel like my face is going to split, I'm so happy. Trevor bends down, holding both sides of Lolly’s face.
“Alright, girl, you ready to go?” Her front paws come off the ground, landing on his thighs, her tongue trying to reach his face. “I take that as a yes,” he says with a grin, standing.
“If y’all have any questions, don’t be afraid to call us,” Mabel says, waving at us when we walk away. Once we get outside, Trevor lets down the gate of the truck.
“Is that safe?” I ask, not really feeling comfortable with Lolly riding in the open back of the truck where she can jump out.
Lolly jumps up like she has done it every day of her life. And who knows? She might have. Trevor slams the gate, walks to the passenger side, and opens the door for me to get in. Before I know what’s happening, he has me by the waist, and is lifting me into the cab like I weigh nothing at all. Once I'm seated, he grabs the back of my neck, pulling my upper body forward so his mouth can reach mine. I love kissing him. He always has this taste, almost like cinnamon, but not as spicy. He smells that way too, along with something a little darker.
“Yum,” I whisper, when his mouth leaves mine. He smiles, kissing me again; this time it’s just a peck.
“Alright, baby, let’s get to the store so I can get you girls home and find something to cook for dinner.”
“Alrighty,” I mumble, clicking my seatbelt in place. Once Trevor is behind the wheel, he starts up the truck and begins to back out of our parking space. He then stops, puts it in park, unclicks my seatbelt, grabs the waist of my jeans, pulls me into the middle of the cab of the truck, pulls the seatbelt around me, puts the truck back in reverse, and finishes backing us out of the space, and out the parking lot. “If it was bothering you so much, you could have asked me to sit in the middle, instead of manhandling me.”
“I didn’t know you sitting over there bothered me, until you were sitting over there,” he says with a shrug. I shake my head, knowing there is no point in arguing. “What do you want for dinner?” This is such a normal question between people who are seeing each other, that I didn’t know how to answer him. “We can pick something up, or when we get home, I can throw some steaks on the grill.”
“Let’s just pick something up.”
“Sure,” he replies, pulling me into his side. And that’s when I know that we are really starting something beautiful.
*~*~*
“Please,” I mumble. We have been doing this same thing every day for the last couple of weeks. I’m ready to kill Trevor; I’m not sure if there’s such a thing as blue balls for women, but if it’s possible, I have a horrible case of them.
“We have to stop, baby,” he grumbles, rolling to his back, his arm going over his eyes. I can’t take it anymore. I'm in actual pain; even though he has explained it more than once, I do not understand for one second why he keeps putting off us sleeping together. I roll out of bed, run to the bathroom, and slam the door. I feel bad; I know that every time he turns me down, he’s hurting himself as well. It was endearing for the first week; now I'm starting to feel like he doesn’t want me like I want him. How would any woman feel if the guy who is known around town for being a male slut-bag kept saying no every time her hands started moving towards his X-rated body parts? I turn on the shower and jump in before the water even gets hot; the freezing cold water beating down on me helps get my body back under control. “How much longer can I do this?” I whisper, leaning my head against the tile behind me.