Page 18 of Reckless

“And what truth is that?” I asked, despite my better judgment. I shouldn’t have been encouraging him, but sometimes my mouth had a habit of responding before my brain had a chance to catch up.

“That you, my friend, want more than what you have. You want a partner.”

“Why would I need a partner when I have you to keep me company?”

“Aw. But as pretty as you are, you’re not my type.” I rolled my eyes. “Think about it. What’s the worst thing that could happen?”

The worst thing? I could bring Stella into my life and by doing so, put her in danger by association. She could end up dead because of me. Carmine might have liked me for now, but we both knew if I upset him in any way, he could put a bullet in my head without a second thought. And no one could do anything about it.

“Look. We both know we have a dangerous job, but life comes with risks regardless of what you do. You could be hit by a bus tomorrow just walking across the street. Splat. Brains and limbs akimbo. And you know what you’ll be thinking when you’re a ghost looking down at your broken body?”

“How much I hate you?” I said, putting my key into my door and twisting it. He followed me right into my place.

“No. It’ll be, fuck, I really wasted my life not doing what I wanted and living it for someone else.”

Well. Fuck me. He’d hit the nail on the goddamn head.

“Am I right? See?” He pointed to his head. “So much more than a pretty face.”

“Get the fuck out.” I said, pointing towards the door as I kicked off my shoes and pulled at my tie.

He put both his hands up in mock surrender like I was threatening his life. “All right, don’t get your panties in a twist. I’m going. But think about what I said.”

I slammed the door shut and locked it behind him, shaking my head. He really was a pain in the ass.

“Can you believe what he said to me, Stevie?” I asked my tarantula, lifting the top of the cage and letting her crawl into my hand. Her black furry legs scuttled against my palm while those big black eyes shined in the afternoon light. “You hungry?” I asked her like she could respond. Her little legs moved and I took that as a yes, setting her back down in her tank on her favorite branch. I dumped a fistful of crickets in there, latching the top. With the unpredictability of my job, I always left her with more food than she needed just in case it took me longer than expected to get back. It’s why I didn’t opt for a cat or a dog who relied on that set feeding schedule.

When I looked around at my apartment, I realized maybe Simon had a point. It was a sad, undecorated room. There were no family pictures on the walls. No personal touches, save for my Stevie. My refrigerator was packed with only a carton of milk and a few Snickers. I had no keepsakes. No one to share my days with either. If I were to die tomorrow, there’d be no trace I’d actually been here. They’d probably move someone in to take my space before my body was even cold. Was this to be my life? My legacy? A whole bunch of nothing? All I really had to my name was a list of kills I’d tracked by inking my back. Honestly, it was a pathetic existence.

Those few minutes of flirting with Stella were the most alive I’d felt in a long ass time. That’s probably why I decided to whip my phone out from my pocket and pull up her number. My thumbs hovered over the keyboard for a few seconds, heart hammering away in my chest.

“So, about that date?” I texted before I had time to chicken out. The fact that I felt more nervous about texting Stella than I did pouring poison into a wine glass was something I didn’t want to examine too closely.

The read receipt popped up almost immediately, making my stomach clench and hands sweat.

“What did you have in mind?” She answered.

Holy shit. She actually responded.

Now what.

I hadn’t been expecting her to answer. A part of me thought she’d read it and then block me.

Thankfully, my brain decided to kick into gear because I responded with, “How about I take you to Artemis on one of your days off? It’s a new rooftop bar with zodiac sign drinks.”

“Sounds interesting... But I have to know one thing.”

“What’s that?”

“Does it bother you? What I do for a living I mean? Most guys can’t handle it.”

I texted back quickly. “Absolutely not. Money is money. It has to get made somehow.”

Those three dots appeared again. Then disappeared like she wasn’t sure what to say back to that. I knew guys like that, who were possessive and insecure. And while the thought of sharing her with anyone else made my middle clench uncomfortably, I meant what I said. I wasn’t some macho, insecure asshole who felt the need to stake a claim on her. I wanted her just as she was. Job and all. I wasn’t interested in changing a thing about her to fit neatly into some insecurity I didn’t even have.

“That’s good to hear. I have to admit I was worried about it. I’ve seen some of my friends’ boyfriends freak the fuck out. It’s no secret that I strip for my money, so I don’t want some bait and switch behavior later if the date goes well…”

“So, you’re thinking about our future?”