Page 39 of The Dollhouse

Granted, I wasn’t very knowledgeable when it came to underground criminals and illegal activities. The most I’d ever done was speed, and then, of course, serve alcohol after starting my job here. Technically illegal, since I wasn’t twenty-one yet.

It was a sad thing that I wasn’t twenty-one, and yet I felt so much older. Like, sometimes I wondered if this was all life was, if this was all it had to give. What was the fucking point in it all? Some people said life was a miraculous thing, but was it really?

But back to what I was thinking before. My mind didn’t go there, refused to ponder the possibility that something had happened to Roman and Carter because in my mind, they were damn near invincible.

A stupid, childish thing to think. Neither man was invincible, and if it turned out something did happen to them, they were hurt or, worse, killed, what the hell would I do? How would I know? It wasn’t like I was one of their emergency contacts, it wasn’t like I knew their friends and I’d hear it from them.

No, if something happened to them, I’d live the rest of my life wondering, and I hated that. I hated the power Roman held over me, how much I thought about him, how badly my body craved those dark eyes on me. It wasn’t as if I’d known him my whole life, but that’s sort of what it felt like.

When I heard the sounds of Autumn’s heels clicking on the floor in her office, I got to my feet and went back out in the Dollhouse. I’d do anything to avoid a talk with her, and that included getting back to work and pretending everything was fine.

And everything was fine. Mostly. Except for fucking Roman.

And Carter.

And, hell, even Lake—because as much as I wanted to be buried in my own world, it just didn’t work out like that. These three guys had got my attention, in very different ways, mind you, and now I couldn’t shake the feeling that I wanted everything each and every one of them had.

Ugh, I was in way over my head here, that much was obvious. In so far over my head I couldn’t even see the top of the water, didn’t know how far I was from the surface. Treading water was impossible when you were drowning, too frantic and desperate to reach the top again.

The rest of my work shift passed slowly. Every minute felt like an hour, and every hour felt like a lifetime. I kept to myself, not wanting to talk to anyone. I wasn’t even extra nice or flirty with the patrons; I only served them their drinks and helped clean off the tables, not bothering to give them smiles or anything like that.

It was amazing how much of a bad mood I was in simply because Roman and Carter weren’t here. I wasn’t proud of it, but it wasn’t something I could change.

Life went on. Life went on so much that I pretty much assumed I’d never see Roman or Carter again, having heard or seen hide nor hair from them. I was still stuck working only Tuesdays and Thursdays at the Dollhouse; Autumn refused to switch my schedule, lest Roman come back into the Dollhouse and find out she’d gone against his orders.

Ah, well. It sucked, but I could make enough to pay the bills and groceries on those two nights a week if I worked it. I didn’t want to work it—the only thing I wanted to do was mope—but work it I had to.

The funny thing was, I felt worse now than I did when I walked in and saw Bryan and Willow together. That scene had scarred me, but this… this was downright abandonment, another slap to the face while I was still healing from the first. Salt in the still-open wound.

Would I ever be good enough for anyone to want to stay in my life? Or was I supposed to just lower my head and accept it, like a good girl, like the girl my parents wanted me to be? I always thought I had too much self-worth to do that, but now I wondered if it would be easier, if life wouldn’t be so hard if I just stopped giving a shit.

Hmm. Maybe that’s what I had to do. Maybe me not giving a shit about anything was how I should go about my life. By nature, I was an overthinker, someone who cared too much, a person who immediately put their heart into things… but you know what? Fuck that. Fuck it all.

It was one Friday night when I decided this, when I mustered up the courage to do something I’d wanted to do all along, but never took the leap because of Roman.

But Roman wasn’t here, and he hadn’t been here for a while. Same with Carter. I refused to sit in my apartment and twiddle my thumbs, wasting my life in hopes that they’d make their return, come back to me and pretend like they never left.

With my shoulders squared and my head held high, I walked barefoot out of my apartment, making a sharp left and heading to my neighbor’s door. To Lake’s door. Before I could stop and think better of it, my fist was already balled up and knocking.

Either he’d be out and about, possibly at work, or he was in there, working on homework or something, even though it was a Friday night. Lake was not one of the cool guys, not someone who had loads of friends and went out drinking every weekend like some college students did. Lake was just the guy I needed to get my mind off everything, and avoiding him all this time had been for nothing.

Well, I was done avoiding him. I was done pretending I was okay with waiting for two men who might not ever show their faces to me again.

My hand fell to my side when I finished knocking, and I stood there, thinking up what I was going to say. I’d never done this before, actually, so this was completely new to me. I guess there really was a first time for everything.

Me, Zoey Marbella, asking someone out. Just crazy.

I waited there a minute, wondering how long I should give it before returning to my apartment and pretending like I never mustered up the courage to do this to begin with. The moment I decided to call it quits, that maybe he wasn’t home right now, his apartment door opened.

Lake stood, wearing the dorkiest pair of cargo shorts I’d ever seen, along with a T-shirt that had a fewStar Warscharacters on it. His blonde hair had just gotten cut, so he had that dorky look most guys did right after a cut; something they grew out of after a week or so. His blue eyes widened when he saw it was me, and he sputtered out, “Zoey. What’s going on?” Trying to sound cool and failing entirely.

I peeked inside his apartment, half expecting there to be a girl or something. That would be just my shitty luck, wouldn’t it? “I’m not interrupting anything, am I? No girls hiding in that apartment?”

“Interrupting?” Lake echoed, giving me a sheepish grin. “Of course not. I was just doing some research for a term paper.” He reached to his neck, rubbing it as he added, “I don’t know what you think of me, but I’m not that popular with the ladies.”

My eyebrows lifted. “You’re not?”

“If I was, you and I would’ve been seeing a lot more of each other—” Lake stopped, coughed, and tried to act as nonchalant and cool as he could. “I mean, I just—” Which, as it turned out, was not very nonchalant or cool.

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