Mikel
Mikel spent the week at the construction site. On his breaks, he slipped out his phone to see what new question Remy had come up with. She had far surpassed twenty by Friday.
Remy: Wanna stargaze with me tonight?
Excitement and nerves sparked in his belly. She’d felt like a dream—too good to be true. She was making him hope for things that he hadn’t in a long time, like a future.
“What’s got you all smiles this week?” Andre asked, setting his hard hat next to him on the bed of the truck before jumping to sit by him.
Mikel slipped his phone back into his pocket. “It’s been a good week.”
Andre took a bite out of his sandwich as he eyed him suspiciously. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen this look on you.”
“What do you mean?”
His friend drank from his bottle of water. “Happiness, bro. You look happy.”
“I’m always happy.” Mikel playfully smacked Andre’s shoulder.
“This is a different kind of happy … You got a girl?”
Mikel bit into his own lunch, buying himself some time before answering. His mind was racing a million miles a minute. Could he do this? Could he date his best friend’s sister? “I met someone, but we’re taking it slow. Just talking right now.” Vague honesty was the best approach.
“Mikel Evans is going slow?” Dre teased.
He shook his head. “She’s really special and I don’t wanna fuck it up with her.” He hoped his friend would remember his words when the time came to tell him.
“Good for you,” Andre said, crumpling the wrapper of his lunch.
Mikel sighed. He shouldn’t have gone near Remy, but it was too late to turn back now. He liked talking to her, waking up to her texts. They were innocent, funny, and sometimes philosophical.
He had tried to stay away from her for her own good, but he was a selfish bastard. One taste of those sweet lips and he was done for. The way she looked at him, like she could see an ounce of good in him, gave him a high that he couldn’t find anywhere else. She believed in him. That was what had made him give in. She was his vice now.
* * *
Mikel walked into Dolly’s Bakery. The scent of baked goods and coffee hit him in full force as he got in line behind a woman blocking his view of the very gorgeous Remy. Even though he caught just a glimpse of her, she managed to steal his breath away.
“Look, I wanted this with three shots of sugar. This doesn’t taste like three, it tastes like two,” the woman berated Remy.
“I-I’m sorry, ma’am. I did use three, but I would be happy to add another shot for you,” Remy responded timidly.
“Throw in a free cookie too for my inconvenience.” She slammed her cup on the counter and some of the contents splashed over the rim.
“I-I’m sorry. I’m not allowed to do that,” Remy said, quickly adding another pump of sugar.
“I need to see your manager. This is ridiculous. Horrible service. I guess I should not have expected much from someone like you,” the patron snapped.
Remy’s eyes fell to the counter as her bottom lip trembled. Her shoulders drooped, hurt painting her features.
He balled his hands into fists and clenched his jaw tight. “Don’t think you need those extra calories anyway. Seems to me you’ve had enough sugar to last you a lifetime,” Mikel said gruffly.
The woman turned to look at him, horrified.
If she wanted to insult his Dove, he didn’t mind delivering a low blow.
“Excuse me?”
“Don’t like the service, then shut the fuck up and move on. We all have lives to live and you trying to take advantage of this smart woman because your cheap ass won’t buy your own damn cookie is despicable.”
She blinked several times with her mouth hanging open, her face turning bright red, before looking back to the counter where Remy had her drink waiting. The woman grabbed the coffee and stormed out of the café while screaming, “Well, I never!”
The few other patrons in the café had turned to watch the spectacle.
He chuckled and walked over to greet Remy, who was visibly shaking. “Hey, baby. You okay?” he asked. The endearment slipped from his mouth as if he had called her that all his life.
She looked up at him with wide doe eyes. “That was mean.”
“Yeah, she was a bitch. I’m sorry she spoke to you like that.”
“Yes, she was, but what you said was not very nice either.”
“Excuse me?” he asked, surprised by the turn of conversation. He’d just stood up for her and she was calling him mean?
“She was obviously having a bad day. I think you really hurt her feelings. You should never talk about a woman’s weight. We don’t know her life. Maybe she’d just found out her husband was cheating on her. Maybe her dog died.”
“Maybe she is just a racist piece of shit who gets off on putting other people down,” he said defensively. He wasn’t sure why she of all people would defend someone like that.
“Maybe. But you never know.” After a moment of awkward silence, she said, “I’m not good with confrontation. I should have said thank you. I know you were trying to stand up for me, and I’m glad you feel that way. I just wish you didn’t have to be so unkind about it.”
“At least I didn’t punch her,” he joked, thinking of ‘Handsy’ at the bar. From her horrified expression, his little Dove didn’t find an ounce of humor in his comment. “It was a joke. I would never lay a hand on a woman, no matter how much I may be tempted … Are you afraid of me, Remy?” he asked, searching her eyes for the answer. She should be, but if she was, he would be devastated. Because if this pure sweet woman didn’t think there was hope for him, then there wasn’t.
“I’m afraid for you.”
Each word was an arrow shot through what was left of his tattered heart. It was as though she had already found a way in, reclaiming parts of him that she had no business resurrecting.
* * *
Later that night, they set up the telescope under the canvas of stars splattered across the sky. The moon was waning, still bright enough for them to see without the use of a flashlight once their eyes adjusted.
He moved over so that she could have a turn with the equipment. It gave him time to admire the way her lips curved upwards when she spotted it. Even though she was the one looking into the sky, staring at her was pure heavenly beauty.
“What’s this one?” she asked.
“Lyra. It represents the lyre instrument. It’s comprised of nine stars and planets. The brightest star is Vega, Alpha Lyrae, which happens to be the fifth brightest star in the whole sky.”
“What’s the story?” she prompted, sitting back to look at him, her eyes sparkling with interest.
“Lyra is the lyre of Orpheus. He was a poet and musician in Greek mythology. When he was young, the god Apollo gave him the golden lyre and taught him to play it. He was known for his ability to charm anyone, or anything with his music. He saved sailors from sirens, and helped his buddy Jason and the Argonauts.”
“Sounds like a great story.” She smiled.
“Not really. He was married, and his wife tried to get away from a dude who attacked her. She fell into a pit of vipers and died.”
Her hand flew to her mouth in shock, as if these were real people she was concerned for. Goodness and compassion oozed out of her every pore. “Was that the end of the story?” she asked. His Dove, always brimming with hope.
“No. He played such a moving song of grief after finding her body that even the gods took pity on him. He went to the underworld and made a deal. He was supposed to walk out of there, with her following behind, back to the land of the living without turning around until they both crossed over. Then, they could be together again,” he explained.
“Oh, so they got their happy ending after all?” Her hand rested on his, sending blazing heat throughout his system. All it took from her was a spark and he burned hotter than the sun.
He struggled with whether to tell her the truth or not. Those brown eyes were full of possibilities, wishing for a happy ending. She was the embodiment of what fairy tales were made of while he was a Greek tragedy.
“Yeah, they made it,” he lied, leaning back and admiring the black canopy above filled with countless other stories that all ended in heartbreak and death.
She laid her head on his chest, and he wrapped an arm around her. He had never done this with a woman before. Women provided him a physical release, nothing more. Everything with Remy was different. She fit against him like she was carved from his body. Yes, he craved her, but it was more than that. He didn’t want to rush things and ruin it. He wanted to draw this out and enjoy every moment of it—while it lasted.
He never thought in a million years he would be here. What he did know was that right now, he wasn’t worrying about his past, or stressing over what job Joe was going to have him do next. Remy gave him peace. He would cherish every moment with her, because nothing good in his life ever stayed that way.
“So, you want to own a bakery someday huh?” he asked, changing the subject.
“Mm-hmm.”
“Got any names in mind?”
“How about Remy’s Goodies?” She laughed.
Jealousy sparked. “I don’t think you should be sharing your goodies with anyone else but me,” he growled.
She looked up at him shyly.
“What?” he asked.
She bit her lip. “You want my … goodies?”
He smiled, trying to set her at ease. “I want every part of you, beautiful. That doesn’t mean I can have it. I only want what you’re willing to give, but we’re a long way from that right now.”
She nodded and relaxed against his chest once more.
“Are you a virgin, Remy?” he asked. He had his suspicions.
She hesitated a moment before answering, “Is that a problem?”
He squeezed her tighter against him, wondering what he’d done in a previous life to deserve her. “No, baby. It’s the opposite. I just … don’t want to destroy this. You deserve so much better than me.”
“Then don’t, Mikel. Don’t screw it up. You can start by believing you deserve good things.”
His eyes stung as the confession of his sins bubbled up in his throat, burning like the bile it was. He hammered it down as he had always done, swallowing hard.
“I’ll ruin you before you can save me.”
She remained silent, snuggling closer into him.
Time passed with a warm breeze blowing. Peeping frogs and all manner of insects joined together in nature’s melody.
“How about we call it Stardust?” she asked, finally interrupting their silence, changing the topic back to the bakery.
“Why would you want the dust? It’s just the leftover broken scraps of what used to be the beautiful whole star.” He closed his eyes.
“Because stardust is what wishes are made of.”