Grin and Bear It (Ursa Shifters Book 3), page 4
Yes.
Fuck yeah, came his reply. I’m taking you out, baby.
My eyelids fluttered at that. Our… whatevership was confined mostly to Netflix and chill, much to Coll’s annoyance. She did not get on with Derek at all, and no accounts from me of multiple orgasms would change that. Derek rarely wanted to go anywhere further than the local takeaway, which always made my flatmate mutter things about ‘red flags’ and ‘cheap bastard’. Then, before I could ask him for more details, he sent another message.
Wear something hot. We’ll go to Diablo. I’m gonna hand feed you delicious things until you’re full, then I’m gonna take you home and fill you up with me.
Damn. I felt a hot blush stain my cheeks, right as the meeting finally came to an end. I got up when everyone else did, but my legs felt a little wobbly. Like they would be later, after he’d finished with me, I told myself. I floated home on cloud nine, right up until I got back to my place.
I was lucky having a house. I kept telling myself that over and over because, unlike a lot of twenty somethings, I owned my own house. The issue was that the house I owned was not great. My gran had died and left me a chunk of money to be used as a deposit for a house, which was freaking awesome. The shitty thing was that the prices of houses had skyrocketed all over Australia, so all I could afford was a fixer-upper.
As always, the lock stuck when I inserted the key and I had to wiggle it a bit to get it to turn. What would have originally been stunning dark blue paint had faded some time ago and now had that faded, chalky look to it. The door stuck part of the way as I opened it. The damn thing was always as temperamental as hell, either swelling or shrinking in response to the weather. I forced it open with my shoulder, stumbling into the house when it finally gave way.
These days my heart sank each time I came home and was reminded of all that still needed to be done. Mum had tried to warn me when I bought it, telling me just how much work I’d need to do to update the place. I’d brushed her off, full of youthful enthusiasm, just wanting a place to call my own, and partly wanting to prove her wrong. But now that I had it? My eyes flicked past the cracked brown tiles that apparently had been so bloody popular in the 1970s, then wandered past the old, tired wallpaper in the hallway. I was really good at ignoring things I didn’t like, I’d been told often enough. So I hurried down the hallway, zeroing in on my room.
This was the one part of the house I was happy with. I’d painted the walls a deep purplish grey, and had created a crisp counterpoint with the whitewashed wardrobe and glossy white frames on the windows and around the door. Long blackout curtains hung either side of the windows, and when I closed them, it closed the space down, but I didn’t care. It was as if by doing that I shut the whole world out, and sometimes that’s just what I wanted. I dumped my bag and my box of work to mark on the bed. Coll called it my emotional support marking, because sometimes it felt like I just carried it around, like a child’s blanket for the comfort of it. I was always trying to get to the bottom of the pile, but never managing it. I let out a sigh that felt like it came from the depths of my soul, and then I remembered to do the box breathing my psych had recommended. I took a gentle breath in, held it, then let it out and waited before doing the process another few times. Slowly my muscles loosened and my spine softened. And then I heard another buzz from my phone.
Can’t wait to see you, baby, Derek had written.
I felt hot, as if I was a candle wick being dipped in molten wax, ready to be lit up. My breath came faster, my eyelashes brushing my cheeks as I blinked rapidly. But as I did I felt constrained by the stiff folds of the bloody dress I’d had on all day, the bodice tight and constricting around my chest. I wrenched the damn thing off then, pitching it into the corner of the room, banishing it from my sight. I resolved that I wasn’t going to go anywhere else in any of Mum’s ridiculous and appalling confections. And there was absolutely no way in hell I’d be wearing anything like that on a hot date. But that left me with a whole other issue.
I’d tossed a bunch of clothes on the bed this morning, but as I pawed through them I couldn’t decide what the hell I was supposed to wear. Something hot, Derek had directed, but were we talking a little black dress and heels or the vinyl coated skinny leg jeans and a long black sweater made from a buttery-soft cashmere-like knit that would sway around my form? My eyes darted to the phone and back again, a strange kind of anxiety making my stomach twist in knots.
What Coll didn’t realise was that, despite the fact that, yes, I did want to go out on fancy dates, I accepted Netflix and chill all too easily. Because I knew exactly what to wear for a date on the couch. And my super plush flannel PJs were calling to me as the minutes ticked by. They were no deterrent to the ‘chill’ part of the evening, anyway, as Derek loved to slide his hands under the hem and past the elastic waistband.
Even when Colleen was in the room watching TV with us.
Hoping for ideas, I grabbed my phone and looked up ‘diablo restaurant’. And then blinked. The lush-looking black and red website clued me in that this was going to be a whole lot fancier than a takeaway. Gorgeous images of demon women writhed across the banner and below that was a collage of Insta shots of the pretty people.
I stared at the screen, my heart rate picking up again. Could I see myself in amongst them, my face bleached pale by the flash photography, a smile on my face as I sipped at my lurid red cocktail? It wasn’t really my scene, I knew that, but… I looked around my room, then out the door, into the rest of my dingy bloody house and I was hit by a wave of longing. I wanted to. I wanted to fit right in, throw my arms up in the air and dance and then feel those big hands of Derek’s slide down my curves as he pulled me tight.
Dammit: I was going. And I’d find something appropriate to wear if it killed me.
I picked up my phone and opened my messages.
What time and where do I meet you? I asked.
That was another reason why Coll hated Derek. He never picked me up, never met me at my door with flowers, not like her guy did, and that put him on her shit list. I always just shrugged, never really seeing it as a big deal. I didn’t need hearts and flowers, I just needed—
Dinner at seven, he replied, my pulse jumping as I felt the notification come through. Then we’ll see where the night takes us. Meet me inside. You know where.
That last bit tugged at my attention, but I dismissed it quickly, because now I had a definite time, I realised I was going to need to race to get ready. The staff meeting had dragged on for hours and now I only had an hour or two to get ready and get across town to the restaurant. I wasn’t even going to have time for a shower so I’d have to do my best with a wet flannel and some soapy water in the bathroom sink.
“Damn!” Coll said, walking in the door an hour later and looking me up and down. “Is the plumber like really hot or something, because this…?” She gestured to the black chiffon baby doll top and my best lacy black bra that I’d paired with the vinyl wet look jeans and heels. “You look amazing, El.”
“Fuck, the plumber!” I said, hitting myself in the forehead, then frantically patting my skin, hoping I hadn’t messed up my makeup.
“Tell me you found a plumber,” she said.
“Tomorrow?” I smiled weakly. “I’ve got a date.”
“Ooh…” She sidled up as she dumped her bags on the dining room table. “This looks too fancy for Derek the dickhead. Found someone new?”
“Ahh…”
“Oh fuck, no, El.” Her face fell and she raked her hands through her hair in frustration. “Not Derek. He’s an arsehole. He doesn’t deserve this.” She gestured to my clothes and make-up. “Though, if that prick is finally taking you out for once… When’s he picking you up?” A beep outside the front door let me know my Uber was here. “He’s here?”
No, no, he wasn’t. She walked over and wrenched the front door open to observe this noteworthy moment, leaving me to follow along after her. The look on her face when she saw it was an Uber told me everything I needed to know.
“El—”
“I’ll get things sorted with the plumber tomorrow, I promise,” I told her, edging towards the car. “I might even be able to text one tonight after we get home. Derek might know someone—”
“I’m going to Dale’s,” she replied flatly, “so don’t stress on my account. Just… be safe and make sure you set all your alarms. I won’t be around in the morning to get you up, so Derek will need to sort that out. If he’s still here…”
She muttered the last bit, having pointed out many times that Derek liked to hit it and quit it, rarely sticking around until breakfast, but I wasn’t going to dwell on that. I’d had a shitty day so I just wanted to go out, have some fun, eat delicious food at a flash restaurant and then enjoy whatever came after that. I knew Derek wasn’t Mr Right, but he could be Mr Right Now.
“I’ll see you later,” I said, giving her a lame little finger wave and then watched her nod as I climbed into the Uber. I gave the driver the address and he took off, driving us out of boring suburbia and into the city.
Chapter 6
Yes, this was just what the doctor ordered, I thought, as I clambered out of the car. I should’ve been at home, getting my marking done and working on my report comments, but I couldn’t find it in myself to regret ditching responsibility for a night out. Sultry music could be heard from the street and, even though it was still relatively early, every bar stool on the footpath outside Diablo was full of pretty people drinking cocktails and sharing nibbles. They were laughing, smiling, leaning in to hear their companions’ every word and I wanted to be a part of that. This place looked hot and, as I sauntered over, I felt like I was too.
Some people glanced up as I passed. I noticed, but didn’t dwell on their responses. I had, once upon a time. Growing up with Mum, I’d as good as been trained to notice all of those things. But with a whole lot of work, I’d trained myself to stop. It didn’t matter if they looked at me with boredom, dislike or interest, they weren’t who I was here for. He was. But as I walked in the door the last part of Derek’s message came back to me.
You know where.
I hesitated when I got to the ‘Please wait here to be seated’ sign, not sure if he was playing a game or he was just making assumptions. I grabbed my phone out, ready to call him and find out where he was, when a server approached me.
“Table for one?” she asked.
“No, I’m meeting someone.” I looked at my phone then back at her, smiling nervously. “Derek Jones?”
“Derek?” Her eyes widened and she looked me up and down in a way that wasn’t entirely professional, before she recovered. “He’s through there, but—”
“Great!” I gushed and then walked inside.
As I walked in, I realised why Coll was always on at me for not wanting, not expecting more from my dates. There was something special about walking into a place like this. The red and black flocked wallpaper, the black lacquered tables, the small stage where a gorgeous woman all in velvet was crooning out a song. I’m sure the whole place was a lot of work for everyone who worked here, but for me it was an experience. I felt something lighten in my chest when I saw Derek. He’d slicked his dark hair back carefully and was wearing an actual suit, the cut of it making his shoulders look even broader. He looked fucking hot and so was I, so I walked over with a steady sway of my hips, ready for everything this night promised.
This was the moment when he would glance up, then jerk himself to his feet, a look of frank appreciation in his eyes as he took in an outfit that wasn’t flannel PJs for once. This was the moment when I’d see those dark depths of his eyes flare with heat, burning for me. What I wasn’t expecting was a look of pure shock on his face as I came to stand by his table, his mouth falling open as a small frown formed.
“Ellie?” His eyes darted furtively around the room, as if worried someone might see us. Yeah, this was not what I’d been expecting. “What’re you doing here?”
“What?”
I’d felt like a candle wick before, but now it was as though I’d been transformed into cold, hard, stodgy wax, dense but somehow brittle too.
“What’re you doing here?” he asked again, getting to his feet and ushering me away from the table. “We weren’t hooking up tonight.”
“Are you serious right now?” I resisted his efforts to move me away from the table, like he was escorting me away from the scene of a crime. I fished out my phone and produced piece of evidence A. “You invited me here.”
“Invited?” The disbelief in his voice was the first nail in the coffin of my fragile happiness. I glanced around me, seeing that we had a little bit of an audience. “I wouldn’t invite you…”
My eyes locked with his, all cool fracturing as mine narrowed.
“What did you just say?”
“Keep your voice down,” he hissed. “You’re making a scene.”
I planted my feet hard into the ground and that was one thing I’d always liked about being plus sized. While my dating prospects would have been improved if I was doll-sized, no one was picking me up and moving me out of the way now, not unless I wanted them to. I shook off the hand he put on my arm, watching his eyes drop down to the cleavage on display in the sheer top before he collected himself.
“There’s been a mistake,” he said in his best ‘be reasonable’ voice. “I like spending time with you, Ellie.”
“Fucking me, you mean,” I shot back. “You like fucking me.”
“There’s obviously been a mistake.” He was trying, I had to give him that, his hands thrown up as if to ward me off.
“So you didn’t…” I lifted my phone in an exaggerated action, making sure I quoted him verbatim, “…want to taste me? I wasn’t supposed to wear something hot?”
Derek blinked, and I watched as his eyes grew round as he realised just what he’d done. He’d sent the text alright, he just hadn’t intended to send it to me. He pulled his phone out of his pocket to look at his messages and, as I looked at the screen, that’s when I saw what the problem was.
I wasn’t El, or Eleanor or even Ellie in his address book. At the top of our message stream, where my name should be, was a small photograph. Not of my face, my smile or even my eyes, just my tits. It looked like he’d taken the shot when I was asleep, my bare breasts mounded on top of each other, squished into cleavage by my sleeping arm.
“Right.” I stared him in the eyes, feeling too hot and then too cold. “You thought you were messaging someone else. Someone else with big tits.”
“Ellie—”
I silenced him with a shake of my head.
“I don’t care. We don’t have anything exclusive going on.” Those were the right words, but my tone was all shaky. I took a step backwards from him, then another. “I’ll let you get back to it then. Maybe you can call the girl…”
But right as I was about to give the prick an out, I remembered something. My eyes jerked up and bore into his.
“What did you mean when you said you wouldn’t invite me…?”
And that’s when the whole of Diablo came into sharp focus.
This wasn’t for me.
I wasn’t the kind of girl he brought to fancy places like this. I wasn’t the one Derek would dress up for. I was sure the meals from the Thai place up the road were just as good as the food here, but it was the theatre of Diablo that was missing from Siam Takeaway. This was a place to see, but also to be seen, and I was willing to bet that the girl Derek really wanted to taste didn’t look anything like me.
I stared at him for a moment, really looking at him, seeing him just as clearly as the surroundings of Diablo. Beautiful brown eyes, but look at that weak chin. Longish brown hair that felt like silk between my fingers, but was it ever in need of a good wash. Broad shoulders that, with the suit coat, helped draw the eye away from a body that was just as imperfect as mine. And then, as if to confirm my suspicions, a couple approached us.
“D-man!” A tanned and well-muscled guy approached, thrusting out a hand for Derek to take. He did so, and the two of them performed the kind of primitive male greeting ritual that a lot of guys seemed to insist on. “So who’s this?” Tanned guy looked me up and down, the smile turning to a sneer as he took in my outfit, the beautiful woman at his side mimicking his expression. “Your little sister or something?”
Tanned guy searched Derek’s face more closely than he ever had before, I was willing to bet, looking for some character flaw or other reason to justify me being in their proximity.
But I just wanted out of there, so I did them both a favour.
“I’m no one and I’m going,” I said, my voice crisp and clear as I turned on my heel and then walked the fuck out of that restaurant.
“El! Ellie!”
Derek called my name from right behind me as I stepped out onto the street, craning my neck to see if there were any cab ranks nearby, then the prick grabbed my arm when I didn’t immediately pay him attention. I spun around at that.
“Ellie—”
“Fuck off, Derek.” I ground that out in a low voice rather than shrieking at him as I really wanted, aware people were watching. “You don’t owe me anything. But…” I yanked my arm free, “I don’t owe you anything either. This… whatever it is, doesn’t work for me anymore.” I stepped away from him and that hurt so good. “I don’t want this, so lose my number.”
“You’re overreacting.” I heard his voice, felt him get closer as I booked an Uber. “We don’t need to do this. Look, I’ll grab a takeaway…”
And there he was, offering me everything he’d been willing to before. I could smell the expensive scent of his cologne, could feel the warmth of his body and knew how much hotter it would get. I could have all the things I so enjoyed on the nights we did get together.
