Chapter 55
Calida
I opened my eyes only to shut them again against the blinding light. The early morning sun streamed through the crack in the drapes. My head pounded. No more red wine for me for a while.
Sitting up slowly, the covers dropped down to reveal my nude state. My entire body flushed thinking about last night. Sex with Malcolm hadn’t been a disappointment before, but last night was a whole new ballgame. I covered my mouth to muffle a laugh, remembering how I’d taunted him. “Oh yeah, I have to do that again.”
Malcolm’s side of the bed was empty. I glanced at the clock.
“Holy shit.” Not morning but close to one in the afternoon.
Easing out of bed, I winced at the discomfort between my legs. Maybe I won’t challenge his sexual prowess again for a while. I took careful steps to the bathroom and hissed through the slight burning sensation as I answered the call of nature.
“Not for a long while.”
I gave my body a good stretch. I was tempted to walk downstairs nude, but I had no doubt that’d get me in trouble. It’d be the best kind of trouble, but trouble nonetheless. Deciding against that course of action, I headed to Mal’s dresser, opening and closing the drawers until I found his T-shirts. I slipped on one of the plain white undershirts as I slowly made my way out of the room. Midway down the steps, I heard Mal’s voice.
“Yo ass is going down.”
Malcolm sat on the couch, headset on, frantically working the controller. He did more trash talking to whoever was on the other end. When he spotted me he gave a wink and a smile.
He put his hand over the mic. “Good afternoon, Sleeping Beauty.”
“I haven’t slept in like this in a long time.”
He gave a sexy smirk. “You’re welcome.”
My stomach growled loudly.
“You want me to fix you something to eat? Shut up, ass, I wasn’t talking to you.”
I laughed. “No, I’m good.”
After popping one of the coffee pods into the machine, I rummaged through the fridge and settled on a sandwich. As I started to make mine, I glanced over at Malcolm and made a second to be on the safe side.
The last sputters of the machine got my attention. Coffee mid-afternoon was not my usual, but I hoped the caffeine along with food would ease the pain in my head.
Doubling up the plates, I picked up both and my coffee. Mal gave me a quick side glance before returning his attention to his game. I sat down the plates, unstacked them, placed one of the sandwiches on the second one and slid it toward him.
He looked at it then over at me and smiled. “Knew I loved you for a reason. Man, if you don’t shut yo ass up.”
I leaned over and kissed his cheek. “Glad my sandwich making is worthy of your affections.”
I sat back, sipping my coffee and eating my sandwich while watching him play his game. His trash talking was quite entertaining. Once he finished whatever mission he was on, he exited the game.
“You could have kept playing.”
Mal leaned back against the sofa and placed his hand on my exposed outer thigh.
“I know, but I rather hang with you.” His thumb softly stroked back and forth against my leg while he channel surfed. “Anything you want to watch?”
I shook my head. He finally settled on HGTV. Sitting in quiet comfort was a luxury I'd never had before. Happy that the pain was subsiding, I laid my head on his shoulder. A smile graced my lips when he kissed my forehead.
“You feeling okay?”
“Yeah, head hurts, but it's getting better.”
“You need something for the pain? Pretty sure I have some Tylenol.”
Lifting his arm, I put it around me, and snuggled closer to him.
“Nope, this is all I need.”
“Then I got you covered. Oh, by the way, your parents called.”
“Okay, what time are they bringing Shawn home?”
“Tomorrow,” he answered with a short laugh. “When I told them you were still sleeping, your mom said they’d let you rest.”
“I’m sure them keeping him is strictly for my benefit.”
I closed my eyes, enjoying the soft strokes of his fingers on my arm.
“I bet you and Macy could do that.”
“Do what?”
“This flipping thing.”
I opened my eyes to see what he was talking about. One of the house flipping shows was currently on. “I have no idea how to do construction, and Macy doesn’t like getting her hands dirty.”
“Right, but the design stuff. These people have a crew.”
“Are you trying to get me to work so I stop being a freeloader?”
“What? No. You just have an eye for that sort of thing. Look at what you did to this place. And I like you being a freeloader. Means I can have you pay your rent in sexual favors.”
“Or I could just pay off the mortgage, and you can pay me back in sexual favors.”
I expected some flirty comeback, but I got silence. Mal stopped stroking my arm and said nothing for at least a good thirty seconds.
He sat up and pulled away from me. “I know you’re just messing around, but I don’t want that to be a real thing.”
“Oh, so you can charge me that way, but I can’t do the same? Double standards much?”
He didn’t return the smile I gave. In fact, the look on his face was anything but playful.
“The mortgage.”
“Oh. Why not? I mean, isn’t that what people look forward to doing, paying off their house and owning it outright. Why wouldn’t you want that?”
“I don’t want you doing it.”
I sat back against the sofa and folded my arms across my chest. “And why not?”
Malcolm pinched the bridge of his nose and took a long inhale. “Because,” he began slowly. “I would rather do it myself.”
It was my turn to take a slow breath. That familiar unsettling knot began to form in the pit of my stomach. “So, all that talk about this place being for us was just that? Talk? What you really want is to have some sort of way to lord it over my head that this is yours.”
“What the hell are you talking about? No. I told you day of closing you could go on the title, and that can be done at any moment, just say the word.”
“Then explain to me why, if we have the means to own it, I’m apparently not allowed to take care of it.”
“Because he’s tainted enough, and I don’t want anything from that bastard associated with my house.”
I drew in a sharp inhale and pressed my lips together. Uncurling my legs, I got up from the couch, and picked up the dishes. The pain in my head magnified tenfold, but it didn’t compare to the pain in my chest. He’s tainted enough. Meaning me. Malcolm thought of me as tainted. I was associated with Seth, always would be; he’d branded me for fuck’s sake. And Shawn. Shawn looked just like his father, no amount of pretending could change that fact. My sweet, innocent boy, tainted by his conception. Malcolm knew. He had to know. Everything, all of it an act.
Malcolm didn’t want us here.
Hands wrapped around my arms. I looked up to see Malcolm, his features drawn.
“Let go.” I yanked free. “Don’t...don’t touch me. I’d hate to taint anything.”
“Shit, Ginger, you know I didn’t mean it like that.”
I pushed past him, rubbing my chest. Hoping I could massage away the constricted feeling that kept tightening within.
“Ginger. Calida. Stop.” He grabbed my wrist, preventing me from leaving. “Stop running and just let me explain.”
I shook my head as I tried to wrestle my arm free, but Malcolm’s grip was ironclad. “There’s nothing to explain. Now, let me go so I can get dressed and free you of my tainted existence.”
“Stop overreacting for just a damn minute please.”
I kept shaking my head. The tears burned in the backs of my eyes, but I refused to cry. I was tired of crying, of being hurt by the words from those that claimed to love me. I should have known better. This was my fault for thinking things could be different. Thinking I could be happy—that I deserved to be happy—had been the biggest lie I’d told myself. I was tainted. I knew it. Malcolm knew it. All of this…Why? Why did he do this? Why did I believe it? I choked on the sob caught in my throat.
I didn't look at him. I couldn’t. Instead, I focused on his hand still firmly wrapped around my wrist.
“Please let me go.” My voice sounded weak, and I hated it.
“Are you going to let me explain?”
“It’s not like I have much of a choice.”
Malcolm released his hold. I immediately brought my arm to my chest, and rubbed the spot he’d held.
“You always have a choice.”
I could hear the sorrow in his tone, but I couldn’t bring myself to look at him. I couldn’t face the absence that would be in his eyes. I could feel the remaining shards of my heart splintering, and if I looked at him, I feared I’d cease to be. My gaze remained on my wrist as I continued to rub away the discomfort.
“I’m sorry, baby. I didn’t mean it like it sounded.”
“I need to get dressed.”
This time when I walked past him, he stepped to the side to let me go.