Chapter 29: Smart Girls Hate Their Jobs

The song...Patience by Guns N Roses. Because Bodie and Marley exercise it so well with Darius, but struggle so hard for patience with each other...especially Bodie, who needs Marley in all the ways she refuses...

Marley

I sit at the bottom step of the basement, watching Darius in headphones making a rhythm with a bass drum and another smaller one. I'm not sure what it's called. A snare, maybe?

As far as I know, Darius has never sat a drum kit, but the beat he's making sounds pretty good to me.

He shoots me a look and loses his pattern.

He pulls off his headphones in irritation.

"I know Daemon is a piece of shit, okay? I know what he did to you is one of the worst things a guy can do to a girl. I'm sorry. I'm sorry I...I'm sorry that happened to you."

"Darius, I'm not—"

He shoves his headphones back on.

He fiddles with his phone propped up on another drum.  He pumps and taps, ignoring me.

I let him play as I try to keep my shit together.

I can't.

I'm devastated.

The last thing I would ever have wanted was for Darius to think that he was the product of an abusive situation.

The knowledge that I was the child of rape changed my life forever. It broke me loose from who I was. It turned everything I believed about myself upside down. Within two weeks of learning that truth, I was drinking and smoking weed. I had a new name, and I didn't recognize myself in the mirror. In that haze of confusion and alcohol and marijuana, I lost my virginity to a man that I had just met.

I can't even remember the days that followed. In my memory it seems like weeks that I was drunk and either being dressed up by Daemon and paraded around an unfamiliar neighborhood of strangers or being undressed by him in a dark room with loud music blaring.

I think it was months before I adjusted to functioning decently on the alcohol and marijuana. Months before I had a clear thought that Daemon didn't place in my head. But by that time, I could hardly tell the difference in my thoughts and his.

I have spent the last decade climbing back out of that black hole of identity I was plunged into by one devastating piece of knowledge.

I grip onto the edge of the step, knowing that my own son is plummeting into his own pain.

I could take it away. Or at least stop the fall and give him a place to land. A safe place, in Bodie.

I could tell him the truth—that I am almost certain that Daemon is not his father. I could bring Bodie down here and together we could explain what we were to each other, and how we shared one sweet and good and special moment, and how it got eclipsed by our fear of Daemon, and how we lost contact because we were both in jail, and how we never knew the truth because of a series of mistakes.

I could drive down to the damn pharmacy and get one of those at home paternity kits that you can purchase now as easily as you pick up a pregnancy test. We could show him the truth in a few days' time. We could give him a certainty where now he's feeling anchorless.

I could do all that.

Except I can't.

Because Daemon can not know the truth right now, and I can't ask Darius to lie to him. I can't risk Darius like that.

So I have to make this better in some other way for him. I have to show him that he doesn't have to fall into the kind of pit of self-pity and confusion that I did. I have to help him build a healthy identity from the bricks of the one that is now crumbling around him.

"Darius," I say.

He either can't hear me, or he's ignoring me.

I go to the kit and stand behind him. He keeps playing.

Okay, he's ignoring me.

I pull off his headphones.

"Hey!" he says, his voice sharp with irritation. He turns, grasping for them, but I pull the plug from his phone and put them around my own neck.

"We need to talk."

"What is there to say? I mean, I get it. Daemon got you pregnant and you didn't want to be. You couldn't go through with getting rid of me. You felt...too guilty...or whatever, because you're a good person. Okay. I said it. You're a good person. But you're kind of a crappy mother, and now I know it's not your fault. You have a right to be, when I was forced on you. You probably see Daemon and think about what he did to you every time you look at me. I don't blame you for wanting to...get away from me, okay? At least I have other family.  I'm better off than a lot of people.  I have Mama Pat and TJ and even Shay...she's happier than you, you know. She's always smilin' and laughin' and you are always...quiet and sad. Now I understand why. Because I make you sad."

I feel like he has stabbed me with a thousand knives, and all my blood is pouring out of me, but I know I will not die, only keep breathing in agony.

He turns back to the kit and starts playing again.

"Darius..."

"Darius..."

He keeps ignoring me.

He can't deal.

But you know what?

I can't either.

I snatch one of the drumsticks from him and bash on the cymbal over and over and over. Darius is so shocked that it gives me the opportunity to grab his other stick and then I bang on the drums with no rhythm, pounding and crashing over and over.

Then I throw the sticks across the room. "DARIUS!!!!" I yell.

"Okay," he says, holding up his hands, swiveling on the stool toward me. "Okay. Say what you wanna say. "

Slowly I fold down on the floor in front of him and I put my hands on his knees as I look up at him.

"I do not see Daemon when I look at you. I see you, when I look at you. I see a very smart, very talented, very handsome kid with a lot of energy and a lot of attitude, but I do not see Daemon. You're right, I thought I would. My own mother did, when I was born. She saw a man that had raped her in the shade of my skin..." I stretch my hands out on his knees and we both look at my olive complexion, "and she couldn't get past that. I know exactly what you are feeling right now."

He blinks. "You...your birth mother told you that? That she was raped?"

"Yes. She not only gave me up, when I found her, she asked me never to contact her again. She had never told her husband, her children about me."

I have explained to Darius that I was adopted, but I have never told him about finding my birth mother, about the blunt truth she told me in a disconnected voice as she offered me a cup of tea and told me that she wished me the best but she had no room in her life for me and the awful memory I conjured for her, and that she hoped I would return to my adoptive parents and work out my family problems and forget our "unpleasant afternoon together."

"I get it, Darius. What you heard me saying about Daemon, I understand how it makes you feel. You feel like you came from something bad, and that makes you bad.But it's not true, because you came from love."

"I just heard you say how much hate him."

"I do, okay? I hate Daemon. I said it, I own it, it's true. But that has nothing to do with you. It's just...hard for me to explain why. You will never have the experience that I had of, of growing a child. But one day, you may become a father, and if that happens and when your hold your baby for the first time, maybe it will only be then that you truly understand what I'm trying to tell you. Me growing you, having you, it grew love in me. You are actually the only boy I've ever loved with my whole heart, okay? I know..." I breathe harshly, trying to stop sobs as tears break loose and race down my cheeks. "I know maybe that sounds so weird to you, but it's true. I love you, Darius. I love you so much. Everything I have ever done since the day you were born was to try to be the mother that you need. I was doing my best, but it got all fucked up, okay? That's the truth. You think I'm a crappy mother? Well, I think I am, too. That's why I'm sad. Not because of you. Because everything I try to do to make it better only makes it worse. So you tell me...what do you want from me, Darius? What would make me a better mother in your eyes?"

Darius looks up at the ceiling, avoiding my tears. Finally in exasperation, he says. "Just...just come home, okay? Daemon is right about that part. You are always leaving. Just come home. You know TJ will let you..."

I put my head on his knees. Darius wants something he can never have. He wants me and TJ to be his parents in every sense of the word. He wants us to be in love and he wants to feel like he's in the center of that love.

"I can't do that, Darius," I mumble to his knees. "TJ and Shay—"

"TJ loves you. You think I don't know that? He hated Marc. He didn't like Elliot either. And he's got this weird rival thing with Bodie, too, and they were supposed to be big homies, growing up..."

I'm not sure Darius is entirely wrong about the vibe he's picking up. I know TJ had feelings for me for a very long time. I didn't feel the same. I love TJ, but the one time we drunkenly kissed, years ago when Darius just started pre-school, it just felt...wrong. It felt like a ghost of Daemon was watching and it also felt like I was betraying Pat and the family roles we had made. I stopped things from going any farther. I spent years trying not to touch TJ in any way, trying not to lead him on. One of the reasons I started bringing Elliot around was to kindly discourage TJ's attentions. Then he started dating a lot of girls casually, and we relaxed into friends.

When one of his girlfriends—Shay—turned up pregnant, he had a real freak-out at first. I was back living in the Turner's old house then, working on my doctorate, and for weeks we would stay up drinking in the back yard after we put Darius to bed at night, and he would pour out his conflicted feelings. He just kept saying he wanted to do right by his kid, but Shay's family wanted them to get married and he wasn't sure she was the One. He would give me this look, like I was the One.

So I started dating Marc. He moved Shay in, and I moved out.

When Jory was born, TJ changed so much. Maybe he hadn't been sure of Shay at first, but he fell in love with his family. I do believe he loves Shay and Jory and Kamila deeply.

Ever since Bodie has been back, I've been getting a more intense vibe from TJ. I think it's because he's jealous of Darius looking up to Bodie. Mostly. But I can see why Darius might think otherwise.

"TJ loves Shay," I tell Darius gently. "When you make a family with someone, that love is the greatest love there is. It's very deep tie to raise kids together. It's why TJ and I are so close, because we both shared in raising you. But what he and I feel for each other is not romantic love. It's a family bond. He's in love with Shay, okay?"

"That doesn't even make any sense. You just said he's in love with her for the same reason you aren't in love with him."

God, he's right. "I...I can't explain it any better, Darius. You just...you love who you love and I've never been in love with TJ. He knows that, even if maybe his feelings were once a little different. Love goes two ways. He and Shay love each other. They are in love. But because of the...closeness between TJ and I...I can't live there, okay? It's not good for their relationship. I'm like...a third wheel. But I can give you what you are asking from me in another way. I want you to stay here for awhile."

He rises off the stool. "What!?!? No, that's not what I was saying I wanted..."

"It kind of...is, Darius. You want me to be a good mother? Well a good mother doesn't let her kids live with other family members when she's in a situation to have them with her. A good mother is a parent that her child can rely on every day to be there. So that's what we are going to do, okay? We are going to have a trial living arrangement for the next two months, until the end of school..."

"This is because of the gun, isn't it?" he scoffs. "Jesus, it was one mistake and you keep punishing me for it, over and over..."

"This is not just about the gun. This is me trying to give you what you need."

"Jesus Christ, Marley! I'm not a little kid who needs his guilty mommy to tuck him in at night! It is too damn late for what you think I need! What I needed was for Daemon to stay in fucking prison where he belongs and for you and TJ to be together years ago like you know you were meant to!!!" he yells at me.

"Hey!" Bodie's voice is sharp as he yells down the stairs. "Don't talk to your mother like that!"

"Dude! It ain't your business!" Darius turns around and yells in frustration.

I hear Bodie laugh in dismay and come barreling down the steps as he growls, "The hell it's not!"

Oh shit. Cranky Detoxing Rockstar vs. Punkish Frustrated Son is bound to blow up like a Smashbrothers battle.

I meet him at the bottom of the stairs, my hands held out in a plea.

He stops, putting hands on the waist of his low-hung jeans. "I'm cool. Why don't you go upstairs?"

"I don't think that's a good—"

"Marley. You want this...arrangement...to work?"

I search Bodie's beautiful, stoic features. He looks outwardly calm, but his golden eyes are flowing with unspoken words. He's asking me if I truly want him to be Darius' father. And he's telling me if I do, he's the traditional type. He wants the space to carve out his own relationship with his son.

"Yes, I want it to work."

"Then go upstairs."

"Dude," Darius scoffs. "Don't order her around. She works for your manager to babysit you, she doesn't work for you."

"Shut-up before I knock you out, Darius," Bodie growls, his eyes still on mine.

"You wouldn't really punish him physically, would you?" I whisper.

A smile ghosts his face and is gone as he leans close to my ear and murmurs. "He's way too old for that. But I will put his ass into a wall and get real hostile with him if he talks to you like that again."

I bow my head. "I don't like that idea."

"No mama does. But sometimes respect has to be enforced. My Uncle taught me that, when I got out of juvi and thought I was grown and got a little sassy with my Aunt down in Athens. TJ shoulda taught him that same lesson with you."

Darius slaps a cymbal. "Stop fucking whispering."

Bodie's jaw twitches and he cocks his head at me. I step aside. An ice cold Bodie advances on a boiling Darius, who stands his ground. Until Bodie is about six inches from him. I see Darius eyes widen in surprise and he backs away.

Bodie pushes Darius against the wall with nothing more than his menacing rock star vibe. Then he lays his forearm lightly across Darius' chest, holding him there.

"Let me tell you something, Darius. I've raised more hell in my life than your little adolescent brain can even imagine. But in all my life, I've never spoken to my mama like that. I don't give a fuck if you cuss with your friends, or even with me. But if you ever use a curse word in anger at your mother again in this house, you will regret it. I will call my band brother Adam to come down here and together, he and I will give you a personal lesson in what happens to punks who cuss at their mother. It only took Adam having to eat two bars of soap in his teens to cure him of that bad habit forever."

"That's child abuse, you ain't gonna do that," Darius scoffs at Bodie, but I can see the uncertainty in his eyes.

"Well, it's a good think you aren't a child, isn't it?" Bodie growls at him.

"You ain't gonna do that," Darius repeats but he sounds a lot less certain.

"You have no idea what I'm capable of, Darius," Bodie says very quietly. The sound of his voice pulls at my heart, and I wonder if he's thinking of Cain Priestly.

I can't see Bodie's face but I can see Darius looking at him. Whatever he sees causes him to break eye-contact, like a pack animal submitting to his Alpha.

"Okay, you're right. I was raised better than that."

Bodie steps back quickly and sweeps an arm at me. Darius takes his meaning at once. He looks me in the eye briefly and then looks at the floor in front of me. "I'm sorry I got angry and cussed at you. I'm sorry I called you a crappy mother, too. You're really not. I just...our situation sucks...I'm sorry...our situation frustrates me. I don't  know how to make it better."

"Your mother already told you how to start making it better," Bodie says calmly. "You're gonna stay here in this house and learn to appreciate all the things your mother does for you."

"I don't want to stay here," Darius mumbles.

"Why?" I ask him.

"I just don't."

"Nah, that's not good enough," Bodie says.

"What are you--a counselor too, now?"

I smile at Bodie. "Actually," I say to Darius. "Bodie was maybe...my very first counselor. Sometimes good friends give you the best advice of all."

Darius stops looking at the floor and looks between us. "What are you talking about?"

I can't tell Darius the truth all at once, but I can share my connection with Bodie a little at a time. "I told you I was a runaway, when I met Daemon. He brought me to the neighborhood. I lived with him. The girls who hung around with..." I sigh, "with Sixmob didn't really like me, because I wasn't from here. I met Bodie at a yard sale buying books. We liked the same author. We became friends. He was pretty much my only friend. I didn't even really know TJ very well back then. I spent all my time keeping house for Daemon and very occasionally hanging out with Bodie at the library. Or spying on my birth mother. He would go with me to do that, too. The first time was by accident—we just ran into each other on the train and he went with me."

Bodie snorts at the memory. I guess he's surprised I'm telling Darius so much.

Darius looks between us, like he's seeing us in a new light. "How come you never said you knew him?"

I tell a little while lie and say, "You know how obnoxious it is when people name drop that they know famous people. Besides, I didn't really know him anymore. We lost touch. We were both in jail, you know..."

"Hey now," Bodie laughs at me. "Don't be giving all my closely guarded secrets away." He smiles at Darius. "I was in juvi, so my record is sealed. The label makes sure that info stays on the low because they like Soundcrush's image to stay clean. I'm not gonna have to ask you to sign an NDA, am I?"

Darius gives him a half-smile. "Nah. I mean, you covered for me with the 'possum thing..."

"'Possum thing?" I laugh. "What in the world?"

Darius and Bodie laugh conspiratorially. "I'll tell you later," Bodie smiles at me. "I was thinking I could give Darius a quick drum lesson. I think he could use it."

"Hey, that was her making that racket," Darius points at me accusatorily.

"I know, but that pattern you were laying down before was basic."

"I never touched a real drum kit before," Darius says a little defensively.

Bodie grips Darius' shoulder and shakes him a little. "Dude, chill. I was just giving you shit. It was good—real good, for a first beat. You were playing a YouTube lesson?"

"Yeah."

"Well, I bet I can get you playing a real song—with a drum solo—in less than thirty minutes. An interactive lesson is way better."

Darius smiles. "Okay, that sound cools. But then, can I use your keyboard for a little bit? My piano lesson is tomorrow and I haven't really even touched my new piece."

"Why am I paying for lessons if you don't practice?" I ask.

"I practice usually. It's just...my headphones at home are broken and I don't want to play the piano or my keyboard without headphones right now. I'm afraid to wake up the baby, or Shay if she's taking a nap."

"Another good reason that you should stay here, man," Bodie says. "You can practice all you want. When the soundproofing goes in, you can practice in the middle of the night if you want. Did I mention I've got a baby grand on order?" Bodie gestures to half of the basement. "I've already got a crew coming in to box this up, too."

"You're putting in a real sound booth?"

Bodie shrugs. "Yeah, of course. We have one in every house. Well, except for Leed because he lives three houses down from Trace, who has the best studio, and Leed didn't want to fuck with the energy flow in his basement by crowding his yoga studio with a recording studio."

Darius looks unhappy again. "No offense, I don't mean to seem ungrateful, but Marley...I really don't want to stay here."

"You never said why exactly," I remind him. I cross my arms, but then I uncross them deliberately, trying to convey that I am open to his answer.

"Because it's gonna upset Mama Pat. Because it's going to piss Daemon off."

"You let me worry about Mama Pat," I say firmly. "She is not going to be upset with you. She's going to be upset with me. It won't be the first time."

"You let me worry about Daemon," Bodie says. "I'm gonna get us some discreet security here. Daemon is not going to bother us here again. So...obstacles overcome."

"Okay, it's not just Mama Pat and Daemon," he looks between us and then ducks his eyes to the floor. "It's because...well...you know."

"No, I don't know."

Darius rolls his eyes and gestures between us. "It will be weird."

I'm not taking his meaning. "Weird why? Exactly?"

"I mean...I don't wanna...cramp your style, you know what I'm saying?" He makes a cartoonish face and voice that I can only describe as Will-Smithish.

Bodie actually bends double in laughter at Darius' exaggeration. After an awkward minute in which Bodie cackles and I blush, Bodie finally straightens up and says, "Dude, I don't know whether to put you back against the wall for implying I'm getting with your mama or ask for your blessin'..."

Darius crosses his arms and looks at Bodie with one eye squinted. "So you do have intentions toward my mother?"

"No, he doesn't. He's my client, Darius. And he has a girlfriend." I honestly don't know why I keep saying that. I know that Bodie told me they broke up in the ways that count. I guess I just can't wrap my head around a false celebrity relationship.

Some instinct also tells me to expect Arabella Burns to be a big issue—in Bodie's sobriety and in whatever is trying to come to life between us.

"The internet is saying they broke up." Darius speculates.

"They haven't. Not officially," I say automatically.

"That's right, as far as the world is concerned, Arabella and I are a couple. But privately we are no longer romantic," Bodie says stoically. "You know what, Darius? I'm just gonna be straight with you about your mother, okay?"

My heart jumps like a startled cat at what he might say.

"Yeah, sure," Darius shoves his hands in his pockets.

"When I was fifteen, I had a mad crush on your mother. Like, she was all I could see. And then I found out she was with Daemon in a ...weird way. It was hard for me to take. At the time, I felt like she played me, but the truth is, she was in a very serious situation with Daemon and I couldn't even begin to understand how over her head she was.

"So it's been a little bit confusing for me, having your mom walk back into my life. Some days, I feel like I'm still fifteen and I remember what it felt like to be crushin' on her. Other times, I'm angry at her all over again, for crushing me. Plus, it sort of pisses me off that she took this job to be my vice cop. At the same time, I'm glad she's here, because I really need her help.

"But the bottom line is, I do still officially have a girlfriend, and your mom is employed as my sobriety companion. She has far too much self-respect to be a side-piece or act unprofessionally. There's nothing going on between us, okay? We're just trying to be friends again, at least at the times she doesn't piss me off being my vice cop. So you can strike that off your list of reasons you don't want to stay here."

"Okay but the other reasons? Still pretty valid to me." Darius looks at me. "Please don't make me do this."

"Darius—"

"Mom—" Darius cuts me off. "Can we please just focus on the feel-good moment here? A rock star had a crush on you. You must have been a hottie back in the day."

I blink. He hasn't called me mom in a while. I try not react to Bodie smiling at me behind his back. I shrug and say, "Well, he wasn't a rock star then."

"But you're still a hottie now," Bodie assures me with a look that burns clean through me.

Darius gives Bodie a weird look. "Dude. Arabella Burns is a hottie; Marley is my mother."

Bodie snorts. "Bells is hot, alright. A hot fucking mess." He gathers up the sticks I threw and hands them to Darius. "Okay, dawg. Pick your poison. Heavy metal? Classic Alt? Pop?" Bodie's voice is disdainful on the last choice.

Darius' expression is carefully blank. I suppress a smile. I know Darius likes pop and electronica but he wants to choose something Bodie will like. "Uhhhh...maybe something like...rockish but not ancient? Maybe...art rock?"

Bodie grunts. "I can get behind that." He pulls up a Muse song on his phone. "This is a pretty easy pattern that feels good to play. Plug that in, just concentrate on the bass drum beat, I'll be back in five to add in the snare."

He takes me by the elbow and ushers me up the stairs, pulling me into the kitchen. He leans on the counter, very close to me.

I should move away to a more professional distance.

I don't.

I like the way he smells. Sweaty, but like a clean sweat. Not sick sweaty, the way he smelled when I found him overdosed.

"Jasmine," he says sternly. He only calls me that when he's irritated at me, I notice.

I sigh. "I know what you are going to say."

"That you can't let him manipulate you out of your decision to make him stay here?"

"That went so well, Bodie. You were so good with him. Can we just focus on the feel-good moment?" The smile on my face feels weird. Girlish. Not all like me.

Bodie's stern looks softens. He leans in closer and his dreads trail over the back of my shoulder, causing me to shiver. "Baby, I would love to have a feel-good moment with you, but you set the rules. This is about family right now. And structure. And routine. And—"

"Oh alright, I get your point," I shove at him slightly, suddenly irritated and emotional again. Tears are rising and I blink them away as I turn from him. "Back off my personal space, okay?"

He's right behind me, turning me around, pulling me to him as close as a lover, peering into my watery eyes to confirm tears. "Why are you crying again?" he exclaims.

"Because...do you think I like this? Always being the bad cop parent?"

"You don't always have to be the bad cop parent anymore. I just played bad-cop and put him against the wall."

"No, you played bad-ass mentor, which only made him like you more."

"I thought one of the goals was for him to like me at least a little bit," Bodie says in exasperation.

I burst into tears again and slap his chest emphatically as I say, "Not!More!Than!Me!"

"You make no sense, woman," he says gently as he pulls me into very intimate hug. "Shhhh, it's alright. He likes you more. He loves you Marley. He only truly feels safe with you. That's why he gives you shit. He knows your love is...good. And strong. And true." With every word, Bodie's voice is becoming smoother, more like music. I relax, leaning my head on his shoulder.

"So good." He plants a kiss on my temple. "So strong." His lips brush my cheek bone. "So true." His deep tones rush down my ear along with the warmth of his breath. He bends  lower. Closer.  I turn into his mouth like a creature who wants to be pet.

His hands find my hair and his pulls my face up to his. Our foreheads are pressed together. His eyes are closed and his lips are pinched together. He looks like he is in agony. Like he's one man holding back a tidal wave.

And all I want is for Bodie to break all over me.

And that's crazy because the last few hours have been chaos. And I'm just making it worse, clinging onto him like a damsel in distress and pressing my boobs against his hard chest and begging to be kissed.

I try to pull my head away, but his hands keep it in place.

I shake my head. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. We can't...do this. Let me go."

"Oh, girl. I couldn't let go if I tried. You got me so wrapped up. In you. In our son. In us."

His lips are skating mine, teasing warmth, stealing breath.

I want so badly to give in.

"This isn't right."

His response is to wrap an iron arm around my waist and pull me fully against him. I can feel his erection through his jeans, pressing into my lower belly. I can feel his other hand massaging the back of my head.

"It's right," he tells me. "It's so right, and you know it."

I'm panting, holding my lips just away from his.

"Kiss me," he begs. "I won't kiss you...you have to want it, too..."

I open my eyes and look to the side, desperate to focus on something besides his lips and his cock and the feel of his fingers on the bare skin at my waist.

In my peripheral vision, I catch sight of his methadone on the kitchen counter.

I can't do this.

I'm his care provider.

I can't, I can't, I can't.

"Stop," I say firmly, pressing away from him. "Stop." I say again, more loudly.

He lets me go, holding his hands out in surrender.

"This is inappropriate," I tell him. "I know it's new and emotional for both of us, living together and working together to parent Darius, but we can't... I can't... surrender to emotion with you. We just told Darius we were only friends. I can't do this, Bodie."

Bodie quickly goes from looking lusty to angry. "Right. You don't need this. You have TJ's shoulder to cry on."

"What?"

"Just...you know what? You're right. This is...all wrong, right now..." He slings an irritated hand at me to move out of his way. I step aside and he rips open the basement door. Without looking at me, he says, "Are you making him stay, or letting him go?"

I hesitate.

"Making him stay. But he can go to basketball and dinner at Pat's."

Bodie nods. Without another word, he barrels down the stairs, slamming the door behind him in frustration.

I sink down at the kitchen table, putting my head in my hands. I can't blame him for taking the rejection badly. I'm so pissed and so horny and so frustrated I could smash every dish in this kitchen.

This job sucks.

This was a real bad idea, these two living together platonically. Talk about the opposite of Trashlynn!!!! What in the heck was "Riley" thinking, torturing these two like this?