Bliss
Everything hurts. There are muscles that are tightening that I didn't even know I had. I feel as if I fell from a building and got ran over by a semi. This pain was all thanks to the pole dancing class India talked me into taking this morning with her. Yes, I guess dancing on a metal pole really takes the life out of you. I have a new appreciation for strippers, they have the strength of a mule to pull themselves up that thing.
After a hot bath, I collapse on my bed, my towel still tightly wrapped around me. I have no energy to get dressed. Getting out of the tub was hard enough, my poor little arms. Looking at the clock, I see I have two hours to get dressed and get over to Cuba's place for our study session. I want to cancel, but the thought of learning more about him was too tempting. At this point, I'm intrigued. India has been biting her lip ever since I told her where I was going. I feel that if she felt I was in any kind of danger she would have told me, maybe Nick was just being dramatic. Cuba came off as an asshole, but dangerous? Not in the least.
I lie here for a few more minutes and groan at the thought of having to move. Maybe I can push the time back a little, I start to convince myself. Give my body time to heal. Yeah right, then I’ll never leave my bed. Like ever.
Moaning, I roll on to my side and rise onto my elbow. I quickly collapse. This is ridiculous, there is no way I can be this sore. The one time I need Indi’s help she isn’t home. Whore.
Mustering up some strength, I push myself to sit upright. It’s going to be a long day, a very long day.
It takes me almost forty-five minutes to get dressed in my favorite, soft grey leggings and worn, black off the shoulder top that I cut from one of Dex’s baseball t-shirts. At least he was good for something. Staring in the mirror, I frown at myself. I need to dye my hair soon, the whole new growth and fading blonde hair thing is starting to look a mess. Gathering my hair into a high ponytail, I ponder if I should put on make-up, I’ll pass. Skipping my contacts, I slide on my black ray bans that are held together with silver glitter tape on the nose. I snapped them in half one drunken night when I was a freshman and I refuse to part with them. My dad has tried buying me a new pair but nope, they have character, it’s not as if I wear them outside the house until now. Smiling, I wiggle my eyebrows at myself in the mirror. You’re hot stuff, Bliss.
Slipping on my glitter chucks, I grab my bag. They used to be white at one point, and I didn’t want to throw them away, Pinterest saved the day. I might come from money, but I’m never the one to show it off. I live on needs not wants. I drive a freaking lime green Prius, my way of saying go green. I’m pretty much half hippie, well, only half because I love a bacon cheeseburger as much as the next person and Chick-fil-A is life.
Grabbing my keys, I slide out the door, locking up behind me. I hope India has her key, I can’t cut Cuba’s session short again, he might get cocky and think I’m avoiding him. I let it slip that I was impressed until he opened his mouth, all he heard was I was impressed, the rest flew right over his head. Still I can’t believe I really agreed to come to him. Do I want to get to know him that bad? Ugh, yes, yes, I really do. I blame the part of my brain that needs to know everything and not the fact that Cuba is beyond sexy.
I get to his place ten minutes later, I didn’t realize he lived so close until I entered his address on Google maps. The condo complex he lives at is closer to the beach, I can see board walk in the distance as I park on the street. If it wasn’t for my back up camera, I would never would be able to parallel park.
Grabbing my messenger bag, I get out the car and wait until I hear the two beeps confirming that my doors locked. His place was easy to find since it was a few doors down from the street. I wonder if he has a roommate, these condos are big for one person. Knocking on the door, I take a deep breath and wait. I never come to my clients’ place or dorm room so I’m out of my element.
The door swings open and I come face to face with Cuba’s bare, wet chest. I can’t help but follow a drip of water as it slides down his ripped abs to his narrow hips that a towel hangs from. Oh, why must you temp me? Playing off my little stare, I shake my head and meet his eyes.
“Did you lose your shirt or something?” I try to sound annoyed, but my voice is anything but.
His hazel eyes shine, and his perfect lips are in that ‘I caught you’ smirk.
“I just got back from the gym, time must have gotten away from me.” He doesn’t sound too sorry that I’m seeing him like this.
“Right, so you want to get dressed? My time is precious, ya know.” We both know I have nowhere to be, but I cock an eyebrow as if I’m annoyed.
Stepping aside, he waves me in. “Make yourself at home.” He closes the door and disappears up the stairs on the left. “I’ll be right back.”
My eyes leave his naked, tattooed back and take in his place. You can tell a lot by someone’s personal space. Where they’ve been, who they are, and where they are going. Cuba letting me in here is telling me more then I bet he wants me to know. The smell of fresh linen and Cuba’s own personal scent of musk fills my senses. Signed basketball jerseys are in glass frames hanging on the wall. I don’t know much about the sport, but the name of the teams looks familiar. Under them is a dark brown leather couch. I bet it would mold to my body, that’s how soft and comfy it looks, a matching love seat sits to the right, with a dark glass coffee table in the middle. Sports magazines lay perfectly under the glass and an encased basketball sits on the corner table. He’s defiantly a basketball fan. I knew I wasn’t supposed to bring up the sport, but this isn’t making it any easier. Turning around, I continue my lurking, a huge flat screen hangs on the wall with the news playing so low I didn’t even know a T.V. was on. Two more jersey’s hang opposite of the T.V., this time I know the team, it’s the school basketball team. The last names Knight and Emmett are in white letters stitched on to the back of the blue and yellow jersey’s, numbers one and two under the names. He played for the school, no wonder India and Nick knew him. I’m going to guess Emmett is Jackson’s last name. Indi said this was Cuba post Jackson. What does that mean? Is Jackson gone?
I hear Cuba’s footsteps on the staircase and I hurry to the couch, taking my bag off, I flop back on the couch and groan. I forgot how sore I am, and I was right, the couch is so comfy I could settle here for the whole session.
“You okay? I thought I heard you groan.” He comes around from the hall. Gym shorts are now hanging low on his hips and a black tee hugs his broad shoulders and stretches against his chest.
His hazel eyes show concern.
“Yeah, I’m okay. Just sore from this stupid class my roommate made me take this morning.” I wave him off, and start to pull out my laptop and notebook.
“What kind of class?”
I almost don't tell him what class but since he wants to open the door half naked I might as well play his little game, because I would be lying if I said there wasn’t any kind of attraction between us.
“Pole dancing.” I look up at him innocently. “Who knew it was such a workout.”
His eyes grow dark and sweep over my body quickly then he smiles. “I got some icy hot, need me to rub you down?”
Rolling my eyes, I set my laptop on the coffee table. “As tempting as that sounds, I’d rather get started on our session.”
He shrugs. “Your loss, Ms. McQueen. You eat pizza, right? You're not a vegan or whatever?” He takes his phone out of his pocket. “I'm starving.”
“Yes, I eat meat, Cuba.” I roll my eyes. “Could we order from Niko's instead, I could go for a burger right now.”
His eyes widen. “Since when does Niko's deliver?”
Squinting my eyes, I jerk my head back. “Since like five months ago, where have you been?” Everyone knew they started delivering. Niko's has the best burger around campus. They almost give In N Out a run for their money.
“Well, I haven't been around much.” He stalks off to the kitchen that’s tucked behind the wall that the T.V. hangs on. “Want something to drink?”
He’s touchy on being back. “Sure, whatever you got.”
I hear the fridge open and the sounds of him moving things around.
“Sweat pants, hair tied, chillin' with no make-up on, that's when you're the prettiest, I hope that you don't take it wrong.” I hear him rap.
Tilting my head, I try to hear what else he’s saying. “What was that?” A small smile pulls at my lips.
“What was what?” He comes back with two Gatorades. “Blue or White?”
“White, that’s the best one.” I catch it when he tosses it to me. “You said something in the kitchen, something that sounded oddly similar to a Drake line.”
Cuba just shrugs and sits on the other end of the couch, sliding out his laptop from underneath the couch and setting it on the coffee table. “So where do you want to start?” He just totally ignored me.
I try not to look at him, because every time I do, it's hard to look away, and I don’t need him to get any cockier. So instead, I go to Niko's webpage to start an online order. “What do you want to eat?”
“Whatever you get, just no onions.” I feel him shift and a credit card drops next to my hand. “Get some cheese fries too, with extra ranch.”
Picking up the card I look over to him and my breath hitches, he's looking at me, no smile on his face, but there's a kind of sadness to his eyes, the same way there was a touch of sadness to his order. I wanted to ask if he was okay, but before I could open my mouth, he looks away and pulls out his book from his book bag that I didn't see sitting next to him.
After ordering our food, I hand his card back to him and he slides it into his wallet. “It will be here in like twenty minutes.”
He just nods, and I take out my book and laptop setting it next to his. As much as his couch is comfy, I slide to the floor and cross my legs, I need to be eye level with my screen and bending over is killing my sore body.
Cuba doesn’t comment but his eyes flick to me and back to his screen. It feels like the air shifts so quickly with him. One moment he seems normal, like he’s trying but another breath later he shuts down and is back to being indifferent. I remind myself that inviting me into his home is a big deal, he’s trying, and I can’t expect more.
“So, his dad was an asshole and his mom was some snake talking bitch, I feel bad for the guy,” Cuba says out of nowhere.
It takes me moment to process what he was even talking about when I look up and his hazel eyes lock on mine, his lips pulling into a crooked grin. See, the air shifts again and he’s someone different, hot and cold, but I’ll take it.
I blink, breaking the stare. “Um, yeah. It was said Olympias, his mom, was impregnated by Zeus and said that Alexander was half god.” I shrug, “Everyone thought she was crazy, but then again, Zeus slept with his sisters Hera and Hestia, so who knows, it could have happened.”
Cuba jerks his head back and looks at me like I’m crazy. “How do you know this? That’s some sick incest shit right there.”
I purse my lips, to keep from laughing. “Well, you can’t help who you fall in love with,” I say biting my lip. “It’s crazy because Hera didn’t want to marry Zeus. He tricked her since he was in love with her, and she refused his proposal. So, he played on her love for animals and turned himself into a bird, a hurt bird, so that she would take him in and care for him. When that happened, he turned back to himself and took advantage of her.” Cuba leans forward interested. “Well, Hera was so ashamed she was tricked, that she agreed to marry him. Zeus loved her, but he would often sneak off to earth and have affairs with humans, so I wouldn’t doubt that he is the father of Alexander.”
He stares at me, and I can’t help being trapped in his gaze. There’s something about him that I can’t quite put my finger on, but it makes me feel like I need to know him, more than what he’s willing to give. What is wrong with me?
“You’re going to be a great teacher, Arrow,” he says sincerely.
Heat spreads up my cheeks, and I smile, looking away from him. “Stop, it’s nothing.” The doorbell sounds before I can say anything else. Cuba shoots to his feet.
“That’s probably the food.”
The air has changed again.