Beautiful Beast (Enchanted Fairytales) (8 page)
Read Beautiful Beast (Enchanted Fairytales) Online
Authors: Cindy C Bennett
Almost immediately he realized he wore a sleeveless shirt, exposing his arm to her scrutiny. She didn’t seem to notice. He grabbed his sweatshirt off the chair next to the bench and pulled it over his head.
“Aren’t you back a little early?” he asked gruffly. It was just after noon. She wasn’t expected back until tonight.
She shrugged and straightened. “I missed your sunny disposition, Alex.”
“Ha, ha,” he mocked. “I’m not the one stomping around demanding different sheets.”
Her mouth dropped. “You heard that?” She shook her head. “I thought I was going to have to wine and dine Meredith to get her to forgive me for being such a butthead that day, but all it took was an, ‘I’m sorry.’”
“She’s pretty easy going,” he said, stating the obvious.
“Have you ever tried to sleep on silk sheets?” she asked. He didn’t tell her they were the only kind of sheets he could sleep on to keep the irritation from his sensitive, damaged skin. “Not only could I not keep the bedding on, I couldn’t keep
me
on.”
“What?” Alex lifted brow at her. “Are you telling me you fell out of bed?”
“Multiple times,” she confirmed. He laughed and she walked closer, pushing his shoulder lightly. “Don’t make fun of me. I just need cotton sheets. The cheaper the better.”
Alex shook his head at her. And then, impulsively, he bent down and pulled her into his arms, hugging her. Her arms went readily around his waist, resting her cheek on his chest.
“I missed you, too,” he said quietly. He released her and she smiled at him.
“I knew you did.” She cocked her head at him. “You know something, Alex?”
“What?”
“You kinda stink.”
He laughed. “Sorry.” He lifted a hand toward the weight bench. “Workout.”
“Yeah, kinda figured,” she said sarcastically. “Wanna swim while the weather’s still nice enough to swim?”
“Uh . . .” He wasn’t sure he was ready for that.
“C’mon, Alex, I came back early to hang with you. Swim with me. It’ll be fun.”
She came back early for him? He didn’t want to be affected by her words, but couldn’t deny he was.
“Fine,” he said. “I’ll swim with you.”
“Good,” she said, clasping her hands together beneath her chin. “I’ll go change and meet you out there.”
* * * * *
She ran up the first set of stairs—a mistake since it made the second set a little harder.
When she got to her room, she was a little out of breath. What little breath she had was stolen by what lay on her bed. A pair of workout shorts, sweat pants, and running shoes. On top was a note.
C – Try not to injure yourself again. I’m not your personal elevator. A.
She smiled at the note, recalling how he’d carried her up the stairs. She quickly changed and jogged back down the stairs and out to the pool.
Alex was already in the water. He wore a long-sleeved shirt over swim trunks that came below his knees. She could see a few bumpy ridges beneath the shirt on his shoulder and upper chest where they were above the waterline, and the wet fabric clung.
“Cannonball!” she yelled, running and performing just that right next to Alex, dousing him with water. She came up to receive a face full of water compliments of Alex.
“No fair,” she said.
“Yeah, and a cannonball is?” he said.
“I gave you fair warning,” she argued.
“Okay, well, I didn’t really think a small body like yours could create such a big splash.”
“Don’t ever underestimate me, Alex,” she said sternly, shaking a finger at him.
He held up both hands. “Never again.”
She laughed and challenged him to a race, which he won without effort. In the water, he seemed looser, more comfortable than he did out. She wondered if it felt better on his scars. Whenever he bounced up out of the water, the wet shirt molded to his shape, showing the clear results of all his workouts. She thought of telling him that with a body like that, he didn’t need to cover up, scars or no. Then she decided this was one of those cases of wisely remaining silent, and did so.
* * * * *
Alex tried to ignore the feeling of happiness settling in his chest.
He shouldn’t be so happy to have Calli home again. She was a pain in the butt more than not—and bribing his father. They were goofing around in the water, having cannonball contests, when his father came out. The laughter died immediately on his lips.
“Well, Callidora, you’re back,” he said.
“Of course I am,” she said. “Where else would I go?”
“I mean I didn’t expect you back until after dinner.”
“I’d probably feel guilty about coming back early and expecting you to feed me dinner,” Calli said, “except that I know Javier always makes
way
too much food, so feeding one additional person doesn’t make any difference at all. Have you ever thought of sending some of that extra food down to the shelter?”
Alex just stared at her. He’d never heard anyone speak to his father so casually.
“So you just came back for the food?” his father asked.
“Javier’s food is definitely worth a lot.” She looked at Alex. “But I had other reasons for coming back.” Then, as if realizing what her words implied, she said, “A swim for example. Can’t do that at home.”
His father didn’t seem to know what to say to that, so he simply turned and reentered the house. Calli turned to face Alex.
“Wanna sit in the hot tub for a while?”
Calli sat in the warm water while Alex sat on the edge. The heat could be too intense on his back and shoulder sometimes. He didn’t want Calli to see that. She didn’t ask why he didn’t get in. She moved so that she sat right next to his legs.
“Alex, I wanted to say thank you.”
“For what?”
She rolled her eyes at him. “For the shoes and the workout clothes. You didn’t have to do that.”
“I didn’t want to see you working out in jeans and slippers again.”
She bumped his leg with her shoulder. “Still, it was really nice,” she said. “I appreciate it.”
“You’re welcome,” he said.
She took a breath, and he got the impression she was nervous about something. She stood, and turned to face him.
“Do you think you might eat dinner with us tonight?”
He shook his head. “I prefer not to eat with my father.”
“Well, then I’ll eat with you. Where do you eat?”
“In my room.”
“So?”
“So, what?”
“Can I eat with you?”
“Why do you want to eat with me?” he asked.
“Seriously, Alex? I have my choice of eating with you or your father, and you wonder why?”
“Is he so bad?”
“No,” she answered honestly. “I kinda like giving him a hard time. But I’d still prefer to eat with you.”
“Okay.”
She smiled brightly at him, and he was awestruck again by how incredibly beautiful she was, even without a drop of makeup and her hair tangled from their swim, especially when she smiled at him like that.
“It’s a date,” she said.
“Not a date,” he refuted. “Dinner.”
A flicker of hurt reflected in her eyes, and he wished he could take the words back. He wasn’t even sure why he’d said it.
“Semantics,” she said, turning and sitting down in the water next to his legs again.
* * * * *
Calli showered, dressed, and dried her hair before dinner.
She hated to admit how much Alex’s words bothered her. She’d only been teasing when she called dinner a date. His quick rejection of the term stung anyway.
She jogged down the two sets of stairs, only realizing once there that she didn’t know exactly where Alex’s room was. Luckily, he waited for her on the couch in front of the big, blank TV screen. She went and sat next to him.
“Good movie?” she whispered, as if they were in a theater and a movie was playing.
He looked at her and smirked.
“Do you ever watch this thing?” she asked.
“Yeah. Whenever a new movie comes out.”
“On DVD you mean?”
“No.”
She looked at him, understanding dawning. “Are you telling me you watch new release movies here? The ones that are in the theaters?”
“Yes.”
“How do you get them?”
“I don’t. My father does. I don’t ask how.”
“Huh.” Calli was surprised—and a little envious. “I hardly ever get to see new movies.”
“Really?”
“Costs money,” she said. “And that is something I am sorely lacking.”
Alex didn’t say anything, just stood. “Ready to eat?”
He held out a hand and Calli placed hers in it. He pulled her up and led her to his room.
* * * * *
No one ever came into Alex’s room.
Not even Meredith. He changed his own sheets, scrubbed his own toilet, vacuumed his floor. This was the one place that was his alone. His father had never even been inside the door. And here he was, taking this girl who he thought might be a friend, but who also might be the enemy, in. He decided he must be insane. He’d lost his head over her beauty.
The thought immediately intruded that her looks no longer were an issue with him. He squashed the idea immediately. Of course her looks were an issue, how could they not be? Especially when compared with his own.
He’d had Javier deliver the meal a little early so it would be here before Calli. He led her in, standing back to watch her reaction. She moved to the center of the room and turned in a circle, her eyes roving over the walls, the desk, his bed, the tall dresser. Everything was dark: dark beige walls, dark wood furniture, navy carpeting, dark red comforter. Even the lighting was a little dimmer than it should be. It was the antithesis of her white room. Finally her eyes came back to his.
“It’s a little dark and depressing, don’tcha think?” she asked with a smile. Alex laughed. Leave it to Calli to say it like it was.
“I’ve honestly never thought of it that way until now when I saw you standing in here.”
“Still,” she said, “it’s nice. I mean, everything is really good quality.” She walked over to the bed and ran a hand across the comforter. “It’s a lot nicer than anything in my house.”
Alex cocked his head at her. “Describe your house to me.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
“Okay. Prepare for boredom.” She sat on the edge of his bed, and Alex folded his arms across his chest. A funny warmth danced around inside his chest at her sitting there, something he thought he remembered from
before
, but couldn’t put a name to. “I’d tell you to sit down,” she continued, “but it’s a pretty short story.
“Two bedrooms—mine and my dad’s. They are both about the size of my bathroom here. We share one tiny bathroom, which is really gross because my dad is a pig most of the time.” Alex choked on his laugh. “And,” she said, “the kitchen and living room are one room about the size of your bedroom here. Everything is old, shabby, and falling apart. But I have to say, it’s clean. I hate living in filth, which is what my dad would have us do if it were up to him.”
Alex now felt the need to sit, so he walked over to the sprawling desk and pulled the chair around to face her. “So it must be kind of . . . different here, huh?”
“If by different you mean completely foreign and surreal, then yeah. It’s hard to imagine a house this size just for two people.”
Alex looked around at his room. He’d known people lived differently, of course. But he supposed that living here all this time, wrapped up in his misery, pain, and grief he hadn’t really thought of it. What an unfair joke of nature to put someone hideous like him in a place of beauty like this, and to place Calli in a hovel.
“Tell me about your father,” he said.
“My dad has the possibility of being a really great dad,” she said. “But he’s buried that beneath his desire for a little drinky-drinky.” She tipped an imaginary bottle to her mouth, grinning at her joke. Her pain, though, was clear to Alex. If anyone could recognize pain, he could.
“Where’s your mom?” he asked, changing the subject.
“Well . . . um, she’s . . . uh . . .” She looked around the room, anywhere but at him as she stumbled over her words. Then she locked her eyes on his. “Why don’t you and your dad get along?”
He nodded. “Right. New subject. Tell me about—”