Page 27 of Illicit

“Then I’m going to call your dad.”

That gets my attention.

I spin on my heel and point at him with a butter yellow thong clipped to a hanger. “Whoa. Stop right there.”

Rocco crosses his arms and leans back on his heels. “You’re not listening to anything I say. I had to get your attention.”

The thong and hanger become one with my agitated soul when I poke him in the chest with it. “You promised. I did everything you asked. You can’t call him now. This will…” I pull in a deep breath and try to convince myself of my next words. “Blow over. I’m moving after graduation anyway. I just need to get through the next couple days.”

Rocco narrows his eyes at the panties hanging between us before pushing them to the side and lowers his voice. “Your car was busted up, and they have your address. Let me clue you in on a little fact, Teagan—most criminals are lazy by nature. The fact that whoever did this took the effort to drive over an hour east across the state line to break into your apartment says a lot. They’re committed to the task.”

“It doesn’t sound like they took anything.” Now I’m standing up for the shitheads who broke into my car and apartment. That’s a new level of lame, even for me. “You know what would be really nice? If I could see my apartment. Let’s go back to your place, I’ll get ready, and we can go. I’ll need to come back with you anyway because of my car. I’ll even give you the emails, and we’ll call Stella Hayes. See, there? I was listening.” I take a step back to put some space between us and wave the panties around again. “Look at me—I’m a cooperative participant in our fight against crime.”

The whiskey eyes that have haunted countless sleepless nights stare me down before he shifts his gaze and fists the panties between us. “Are you buying these or are you just going to taunt me with them for the rest of the day?”

I shine a fake smile up at him, snap them out of his grip, tossing them in the cart with the rest of the clothes I can’t afford. “I’m buying one in every color.”

When I turn away, his exhale is loud and frustrated. “Speed it up. If we’re taking a trip to Mississippi, we need to get going.”

I leave him and the cart behind me and head straight to the cosmetics section. “I need a few more things. If you’re nice, I’ll buy you something for all the trouble I’m sure to put you through. Your cleanser sucks and you don’t even have a bottle of lotion, let alone a moisturizer.”

He follows while complaining. “I live in a swamp. I don’t need lotion.”

“You’ll age prematurely. Between my mom and Landyn, I’m disappointed they haven’t raised you better.”

“You seem to forget I was plenty raised before I met them,” he mutters.

I pick up a box and read the ingredients. “Hardly. I remember the day Brax dropped you off. You were emotionally stunted, and that’s saying something because I was only eleven. If you think we weren’t basically raised together, your memories are playing out as fiction. But don’t utter those words around my mom. You’ll hurt her feelings.”

Finally, something that shuts him up. He might love my mom as much as I do.

But I’m as anxious as I am nervous to see the state of my apartment, so I toss a moisturizer, mask, and toner into the cart. “There. I’m done. Had I known we were going to make a trip today, I wouldn’t have spent the time shopping for all this stuff. But I like it, so now I want it. If they didn’t take my clothes, I’ll pack a bag.”

He pushes the cart past me as sarcasm bleeds from him. “So, you’re saying you don’t need those scraps of material in every color of the rainbow?”

I shuffle faster in his flip flops and have to squeeze my toes with every step to keep up as he heads to an empty checkout line. “They’re panties, Rocco. And, yes, I need them all. A girl can’t have too many pairs of panties.”

He refuses to look at me as he fists panties, bras, and the rest of my new clothes with his big hand and tosses them on the conveyor belt before pulling out his wallet.

I put my hand out to stop him. “You’re not paying for any of this.”

He waves me off. “Tim tells me how you work long hours. And if that car is registered to you, you’re going to have a deductible to deal with. Consider this an early graduation gift.”

I cross my arms over his big shirt. I’m still not wearing a bra. “Panties from Rocco Monroe. Is this what you buy all the girls for graduation?”

I ignore the checker who bites her lip as she quickly scans my mini shopping spree. Rocco swipes his credit card before turning his back to the checker. The next thing I know, he leans down, and I’m almost nose to nose with the man who just bought me a week’s worth of thongs and multiple outfits. When I inhale, he smells like home. He uses the same body wash my mom stocks in all the bathrooms, and his fabric softener is a scent from my childhood.

So many memories. Even my nose can’t escape this man.

Rocco is tied to every single one of them, dammit.

“Just so you know, I’ve never bought slips of fabric that you consider underwear for anyone. Not for a woman, and especially not for a girl.”

I lean in closer and lower my voice. “Good. Because I haven’t been a girl for a very long time. Thanks for the rainbow of thongs. I’ll think of you every time I wear them.”

With that, I side-step him, snatch the bag, and stalk for the door with my head held high. I need all the courage I can gather if I’m going to be stuck with Rocco for another day.

Rocco

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