Starting Fires by Makenzie Smith Page B

parts out of the box that definitely didn’t look like a bed frame. “Hey,” he said and continued unpacking it. I stood in the doorway with my arms folded across my chest, scowling at him—willing him to feel the waves of hostility coming off me. He finally turned to me and jerked his head back. “What’s with the look, sourpuss?”
    “You know exactly what the look is for,” I said, stepping into the room.
    “No, I don’t,” he shook his head as if I was crazy and began separating the pieces.
    “Oh, please. Spare me your innocent denial. You’re purposefully being a cock-block.”
    Charles laughed, throwing his head back. “A cock-block? What the shit are you talking about?”
    “You know exactly what I’m talking about!” I jerked a piece of wood out of his hand and threw it on the bed. “Why are you trying to sabotage this thing with Lucas?”
    “Sabotage? I’m not trying to sabotage anything. If I were trying to do that, I would have insisted you rode home with me from the bar Saturday night or I would have gone to the bar with you yesterday. Stop imagining things.”
    “Well… well,” I stuttered. “You interrupted us in the kitchen and then you asked him to go help you pick up your new bed frame. By the way, this clearly isn’t a bed frame. What are trying to do here?”
    “When we got there they told me it wasn’t ready, but since I was there I bought a nightstand I wanted,” he shrugged. “And I don’t know what you’re talking about in the kitchen. When I walked in, it just looked like you two were talking.”
    He wasn’t looking at me. And I could tell that this conversation was making him uncomfortable. I took a deep breath to calm my aggression. “Just tell me what this is about. Don’t deny it. This is bothering you, and I don’t understand why.”
    Charles sighed then lay on his bed. I sat at his feet and waited for him to come clean. “It’s just… ,” he began then sighed. “You’re better than this, Marlowe.”
    “Better than what? Literally, nothing has happened between us.”
    “You would just be one of many with him. He dates tons of girls, but in the end sends them packing. I don’t want you to be part of his harem.”
    “Harem?” I laughed.
    “That’s what we call the girls he dates. Do you want to be known as that?”
    No, I didn’t, but that wasn’t what this was about. “Look, I’ve told you that I don’t want a relationship. I’m not looking for love or whatever. This whole big brother, I’m going to step in and protect you thing, it’s sweet, but annoying. I don’t need you to do that. I’m a grown woman, and if I want to start up a thing with Lucas, I will.”
    “Fine. Just do something for me first.”
    “What?” I sighed.
    “Every Monday night we play at the bar. It’s a short set, only thirty minutes or so. Come by at around eleven and see what I mean. See what you’re up against.”
    I scoffed. “Why are you acting like I’m some homely girl next door who doesn’t have a chance with him because of all the hot ass chicks he hangs out with?”
    “I’m not! And they’re not ‘hot ass chicks.’ Just girls, but he flirts with all of them. If he treats all girls like that, what makes you think you’re special to him? None of the others are.”
    His words hurt me. No girl wants to hear that she isn’t special. Secretly, we all think that in some way we are. I couldn’t deny that he had a point. If I saw Lucas with a bunch of other girls treating them all exactly how he treated me, his appeal would dwindle. Even if a boyfriend/girlfriend relationship wasn’t what I was after, I would still want to be at least a little special to the man I spent my time with. I told him I would go, and then left him to finish setting up his new nightstand.
     

Chapter 6
    I did my best not to think of what I would see or feel when I went to the bar. I didn’t want to admit that seeing Lucas with another girl might make me upset, but I knew it