Cable

I NEVER MADE it to my bed.

The whiskey and melancholy proved too powerful of a combination to combat, so the farthest I managed to make it was to one of the reclining Adirondack chairs that dotted the deck. I woke up when a seagull squawked, and a family with several small kids who couldn’t wait to get into the water came screaming by.

My eyes felt like they were coated in sand and laced with fire. My mouth was dry, and there was a charming combination of something that tasted like ash and asshole on my tongue. Everything from my neck down hurt, and my shoulder throbbed from where it had been wrenched at an awkward angle all night long since I used my arm as a pillow. All my joints popped and creaked as I slowly got to my feet and tried to stretch out all the kinks. I cringed as my stiff, crunchy jeans scraped across my skin. I should have at least climbed out of them before I passed out. The saltwater had dried, and the residue was flaking off in white chunks with each of my slow, hesitant movements.

I scratched my chest and lifted an eyebrow as the mom, who was chasing after the noisy kids, stopped suddenly and gave me an obvious once-over. I snorted in amusement when her husband turned his head to see what was holding her up. He was loaded down with towels and toys. His look screamed that he wanted to drop all of it on the sand and walk away from her and the rugrats when he caught sight of me. He was doing the heavy lifting while his wife checked me out. I would be pissed if I was in his shoes. I lifted my hand in a jaunty little wave and heard the man swear loudly. It made me chuckle as I grabbed the t-shirt I’d never bothered to put on the night before and headed inside to find something that might knock my hangover back a few steps.

The massive wall of glass slid open easily and I squinted into the interior. I was not surprised at all to find my unwanted houseguest already up and ready to face the day. She was banging around the kitchen in another pair of frayed cutoffs and a t-shirt that had been black at one point but had faded to a much-loved gray. It had a picture of Johnny Cash flipping the bird on it, and in places, the white print had cracked and peeled away. I told myself not to look where the fabric was tied in a knot at the small of her back, exposing a swath of tanned, smooth skin. It was impossible not to stare as she stood on her tiptoes, opening all the different cabinets, and as she bent over to search through the fridge.

“Are you looking for something in particular?” I asked the question mostly because she gave me a look of utter disgust but didn’t say a word as I stumbled through the living room.

“Food. I’m looking for food. Haven’t you gone to the grocery store? What do you plan on eating for breakfast?” She slammed the fridge shut with more force than necessary and gave me a once-over that was nowhere near as appreciative as the one the mom had given me. “You look like shit.”

I rubbed a hand over my face; the stubble on my chin scraped against my palm. “I feel like shit, so that’s not a shock.” I rounded the massive, white leather couch in the family room right off the kitchen and flopped down across it. My dad would have a fit if he knew I was sprawled across the thing in dirty jeans and sandy feet. Everything the man possessed was for show and nothing else.

I closed my eyes and tried to rub some of the grit away. “My dad has a lady when he’s here.” He had several. “A woman named Miglena comes in every other day and stocks the fridge and the pantry. She makes enough food to last a few days, and she cleans up the house. She should be here sometime this afternoon.”

I cranked my head around so I could look at Affton as she made a strangled sound and glared at me from her place in the kitchen.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Her words snapped out. She was pissed . . . she always seemed pissed. I could tell she was ready to explode. “You’re too precious and perfect to get off your drunken ass and go to the store so you can feed yourself? You’re so delicate and fragile you can’t be bothered to pick up after yourself and keep this place clean for a couple months? You managed to land yourself a bottle of booze, but something practical like breakfast eludes you?”

She was scathing, and her sarcasm was thick enough to cut with a knife. She put her hands on her hips and narrowed her eyes at me as I tried to formulate a response.

“What are your plans for the summer, Cable? You can’t party. You won’t be able to work with the random drug screens that will be thrown your way, no boss will understand you having to run out in the middle of a shift to pee in a cup. You aren’t getting ready to go off to college. So, what are you going to do with yourself? Were you planning on lying around, feeling sorry for yourself while someone else takes care of you?” Her eyebrows shot up, and a furious flush stained her cheeks hot pink. “You’ve already lived your life that way and look where it landed you. I think it’s time you figure out how to be self-sufficient.”

I tried to roll my eyes but it hurt too badly, so I ended up squinting at her from the couch. “I don’t even know where the grocery store is.” I would rather have her pull out all my teeth with rusty pliers before admitting I also had no idea where the laundry room was in this sprawling house or which of the stainless steel appliances in the gourmet kitchen was the dishwasher. I closed my eyes and laid my head back as an army of elephants started doing the tango in my brain. “Besides, I’ve spent the last year and a half being told when to eat. When to go outside. When to shower and shit. I haven’t been living in the lap of luxury.” And as soon as I’d left prison I’d gone right into the sober living facility, which had been as far from extravagant as could be. The place was only a couple of steps up from a slum, as far as I was concerned.

Affton started slamming the cabinet doors for no other reason than to irritate me. I swore and grabbed one of the designer pillows decorating the couch to cover my head.

“You’re unbelievable. You know that, right?” I didn’t answer her, but I felt the tension that seemed to snap and pop from her move closer to where I was doing a pretty good impression of a beached manatee. “There is only one person you can blame for your recent, less-than-stellar accommodations. Speaking of which, did your parole officer call this morning?”

“Fuck.” I threw the pillow off my face and moved faster than I thought my sore, hungover body could move. I could get called in for a piss test anytime between eight and five. I only had an hour to get to the facility, and if I didn’t show or pissed hot, I was on my way back to lock up.

I’d left my phone on the imported marble countertop and put it on silent so I didn’t have to listen to it ping with notifications from my mom. She wanted to know if I was doing okay and make sure I didn’t do anything to chase off Affton. If I was speaking to her, I would have told her Affton didn’t scare easy. She proved it the day she confronted me in the parking lot, and she kept proving it as she refused to move out of my way as I bolted for the phone. She wasn’t someone I could roll over with manipulation and intimidation. She stood her ground.

The screen had a multitude of missed messages. None were from my dad, which wasn’t surprising. Most were from my mom, a few were from girls who wanted to touch base now that I was out, and several were from a blocked number I knew belonged to a reporter who had been all over me since I was released early. The last thing I wanted was my face plastered all over what passed as the news in Loveless. I wanted that almost as little as I wanted to talk about the night I had gone from a fuck-up to a felon.

I didn’t want to talk about it.

I didn’t want to think about it.

I didn’t want to remember it.

And I really, really didn’t want to relive it every single second of every single day. I could feel familiar pressure starting to weigh down the center of my chest. My lungs squeezed tight as my breath whooshed in and out and my blood turned to ice and struggled to move through my veins. All I wanted was a drink, or a line, or a smoke. All I wanted was everything I couldn’t have to get out from under all the things that I was sure were going to bury me.

“Did he call?”

I forgot Affton was there until her question snapped me back to reality. I scrolled through all the messages and shook my head at her. “No. I’m in the clear.” At least I was this morning. If I did something stupid like getting wasted and passing out without my phone again, I might not be so lucky. The expression on Affton’s face clearly indicated that she was aware of the truth. I tended to be one lucky bastard.

She pointed to the phone. “Call your dad and tell him you don’t need the housekeeper while you’re here this summer.”

I let out a startled laugh and lifted my hands to rub my aching temples. “Why would I do that?” I usually enjoyed the sound of her voice, but I would be really happy if she stopped using it until I had my headache under control.

“You’re going to do that because you and I are perfectly capable of keeping ourselves fed and this house in order. You might be comfortable being waited on hand and foot, but I’m not. And since you have to go where I go for the foreseeable future, that means you are about to find out where the grocery store is.” She sounded unwavering and firm in her decision.

She was an anomaly. Who wanted to pass up the chance to spend a summer at the beach being catered to and pampered? Who didn’t want to exploit all the wealth she currently had at her fingertips? This girl was different than anyone I’d ever met, and I wasn’t sure what in the hell I was supposed to do with her.

“I’m not calling my dad.” Hell would freeze over before I gave that bastard the time of day. I tapped my phone on the counter and watched as she bristled at my words. “Miglena is a nice lady. She doesn’t make a ton of money and she has a buttload of kids. I’m not going to take an entire summer of pay away from her because you’re all fired up to teach me some bullshit lesson about independence and responsibility.”

I watched as some of the fight drained out of her. Her shoulders fell and some of the heat wilted out of her eyes. She crossed her arms over her chest and tapped her fingers in agitation as she considered me thoughtfully for a long moment. Finally, she shrugged, turned on her heel, and headed toward the guest rooms. “Fine. She can cook and clean for you, but I’m not letting her do anything for me. That means you need to take a shower and wash the stench off yourself because I still need to go to the grocery store and I’m not supposed to leave you here alone.”

I wanted to tell her I had been here alone all day yesterday, but I lost that argument by getting wasted before she showed up. I was a twenty-year-old man. I shouldn’t need a keeper, but nothing I had done proved that to be the case. Forever a fuck-up. Forever finding new ways to fail.

Annoyed, I smirked at her disappearing back and drawled, “The MILF on the beach this morning didn’t think there was anything wrong with the way I look.” Most women didn’t.

Affton stopped and shot me a look over her shoulder. It didn’t take her longer than a second to fire back, “She obviously wasn’t close enough to smell you. Go take a shower, Cable.”

I scowled as she swept out of the room leaving me alone so I could discreetly sniff under my arm. I made a face and dropped my arm when I caught a whiff of the less-than-pleasant odor.

I smelled like a drunk.

I smelled like a bum.

I smelled like bad choices and regret.

I thought about stubbornly refusing to do anything she asked. I didn’t want her here, and I didn’t want to be stuck on the end of her leash; I also couldn’t imagine sitting around the house, both of us pissed off and hungry because I was acting ridiculous. That behavior had landed me in the deepest, darkest hole I’d ever been in, and I was just starting to make the slow climb back to where I used to be. It wouldn’t kill me to tag along with her to the store. After all, she was going to have to be my chauffeur to and from my check-ins. That meant she was going to know firsthand if her efforts to keep my nose and veins clean had paid off. There would be no hiding my failure from her.

I hit the shower, and it took about a second for me to realize this was where I should have gone instead of searching for a drink yesterday.

Showers in prison were anything but relaxing, and the shower at the group home had hardly worked. I knew my soul would never be clean, but standing under the scalding water in a real shower, it started to feel slightly less filthy. The water did wonders. It washed away a plethora of bad things, and it zapped some of my hangover down the drain. My head was still throbbing, and my eyes still felt like they were being rubbed raw by sandpaper each time I blinked, but the aches from my night and the stiffness in my limbs loosened.

It also only took a second for me to regret not taking the beach babes up on their offer to hang out. I enjoyed being alone, but I also tended to lose my loneliness inside of a warm and willing body. I’d lost my virginity by the end of my freshman year and hadn’t spent many nights alone until I got locked up. Now, I’d been without someone else longer than I’d been without any of my other vices, and my body was noticing the loss. My dick went hard at the wayward thought of just how long and tanned Affton’s legs were in those shorts of hers, and it throbbed when I recalled that sliver of skin at the curve of her back.

I let out a string of explicit words and lifted one of my hands to the tiles in front of me. I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to pull up an image of any of the girls who passed in and out of my life who weren’t Affton Reed. There had been plenty of them. Most of them a lot more welcoming and friendly than Affton. At least until I ghosted them after I got the few, stolen moments of peace and quiet being inside them offered.

But, because I was broken in all kinds of terrible ways, it was only her messy blonde hair and those lapis-colored eyes I could conjure as I slowly started to work my fist up and down the length of my straining erection. Sure, back when we were nothing more than strangers who passed each other silently in the hallways during school, I’d imagined Affton doing all kinds of dirty, raunchy things I doubt she had ever experienced. There wasn’t a guy in the school who didn’t have a passing fantasy about ruffling her seemingly unrufflable feathers. Jerking off to the idea of her legs and her sweet, golden skin when she was just a few doors away seemed more illicit and wrong. I enjoyed it even more.

The idea that she might find out, that she might catch me and demand to know what I was doing made me even harder and had pleasure coiling tighter around the base of my spine. I wanted to tell her I got off thinking about her. I wanted to scandalize and outrage her. I craved a reaction from her. It made it seem like maybe we're more similar than I thought. Both of us reacting against our will. Both of us responding because we had no choice.

I was so hard that it hurt, and when I finally found release, I had to bite back a sound of satisfaction that sounded suspiciously similar to Affton’s name. I ended the shower feeling a little bit dirtier than I had when I went in, but at least I smelled a whole lot better.