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    Bndmetl
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Misunderstandings - McGees Boys Book 1 - 1. Chapter 1 - Cole

It’s frustrating as hell having to count the change drawer for the third time. My own fault, of course, because the coins keep bouncing off the counter while I angrily utter the growing balance. The closing time of my little flower shop was nearly half an hour ago. Due to unfortunate acquired information, I can’t keep my mind on my work. Any other day I would have had the cash drawer counted and put in the safe by now. Micah Knowles, my assistant? No, he’s more than that. My employee? Ew, way too cold and impersonal. Colleague? Flower arrangerer? Is that even a word? Geez, I need to get a grip and a thesaurus, apparently. The change scattered across the counter once again, some rolling onto the floor. Harshly blowing out a frustrated breath and throwing my hands in the air, I growled out of said sheer frustration and admitted defeat.

“That’s it. I give up. I don’t care if it balances.” Even to my own ears I sound like a drama queen; sighing, huffing, puffing, and slamming things. So damn dramatic. Micah gently nudged my hip with his own knocking me away.

“Boss, dude, we’re gonna be here all night. Let me balance the takings. You can fix up the cool room. I have a hot date tonight and I ain’t rescheduling for you. I need to get laid.” He rolled his eyes at me, pointing to the back of the shop where the cool room is located while gyrating his hips.

Ignoring his lackluster talent, I dawdled to the back of the shop. The second the door opened my senses overloaded on the familiar heady mix of cold musty bleached air and fresh-cut flowers. It’s pretty tidy in here anyway and already seems to be arranged; freshest flowers at the back, delivery orders for the morning to the right, and sad, lonely older unused flowers to the front. I’ll make them into bunches for the specials display in the morning, I think; before they become unusable.

Thanks to Micah there’s nothing to be done. The floor is spotless, swept, and mopped. I really love the smell of a cool room full of blooms and greens. The combined scents of the flowers with a fresh odor of greens make me feel nostalgic for my summers spent helping my grandma in this very flower shop. When I finished college she insisted I keep working with her so I could take it over and she could semi-retire. Unfortunately, only a year later the wonderful woman passed away. Grandma had left the building and the florist business to me in her will. I tried to get grandpa to let me buy it from him, but he was adamant that it had always been mine and wouldn’t hear of it.

Taking a deep breath, I let the wonderfully powerful mix of aromas surround me, calming me down. Soothes my soul, so to speak. Suppose I should finish the paperwork so I can go home. Sliding the door behind me as I sullenly made my way to the office I realized I needed a pick me up. I needed a night out to have fun.

I hate being in a funk.

“Incoming,” Micah’s voice echoed throughout the empty shop from the front counter, “the asshole is headed this way,” he said, passing me on the way to the office with the till. “Do. Not. Cave. Kick his sorry cheating ass to the curb or so help me god…” This is the unfortunate acquired information.

Turning, I watched Micah waving his fist in the air as he continued into the office to lock the cash in the safe. The bell over the door tinkled catching my attention and amping up my nerves. The sound is music to my ears during shop hours because it means we have a customer. Well, usually anyway. In this case, it is the lying, cheating, sack of shit. Imminently moments from being my ex-lying, cheating sack of shit.

Deep breath. A quick mental health check. Straightening my spine. Withering narrow gaze ready and waiting. Okay, go! I surged forward to get to the counter so he wouldn’t come any further into the shop. Unfortunately, we’d already cleared the displays from any arrangements so I couldn’t busy myself packing up for the day.

“Hey, babe,” he sang with a smug smile stopping a few feet from the counter.

Just him calling me babe now makes my entire body want to take a shower with steel wool. It took all my will power not to let him see me cringe at his greeting. Why I even give a shit I’ll never freaking understand? If I didn’t know him so well, I’d think he was hot. Damn, I used to think he was hot. All that blonde hair, big blue eyes, and straight white teeth only accentuated by his slightly tanned skin and twinkie frame. His cheeky grin would normally make me want to smile; but not today or ever again. Thank god he doesn’t have dimples because I’d be a little less than useless. Damn dimples get me every freaking time. I wonder if that’s a fetish. Hmm, think I’ll look that up later. Off-track. Focus; anger; narrow gaze; straight spine. Go!

“Scott,” I said coldly.

He clasped his hands together in front of his stomach, tilting his head while his face morphed into an expression of concern. All fake, of course. He observed me for a long moment attempting to read my face. Any concern he has for me or had for me as the case may be, is completely unwelcome and somewhat unnerving. After finding out he cheated on me, I could give a shit…

“Everything okay? Bad day?”

“Hmm, something like that,” I murmured, peering at him out of the corner of my eye as I anxiously straighten the front counter display. “Did you have fun with your sister last night?” Quickly glancing at the douchebag, asshole, liar, before going back to fussing with the pamphlets next to the register.

“Oh yeah, super fun. We went dancing. Mom and dad watched the baby so my sister and brother-in-law could have a night out.” The dirty twinkle in his eye telling me he recalled his own dirty, cheating, fun. No wonder he didn’t ask me to go with them. He’d put me off when I asked if he wanted me to go too. He used the excuse they were going to have a quiet night catching up and a chance for him to spend time with his new niece. Liar. At the time, I understood. His sister lives in Virginia, I was happy for him. Plus we haven’t been dating that long; I totally get that it was too early to start introducing each other to our families. Although, he’d been coming to Friday night drinks for the past month with my group of close friends.

Pulling my phone from my pocket, I found the photo my friend Tommy had sent me of Scott against the wall of ‘McGees,’ Tommy’s club. Scott’s tongue down someone’s throat that wasn’t me. Turning it around so he can see it. “Did you even check the kid’s identification?” I let the picture speak for itself. And it did, in alarmingly loud silence. “Are you sure he is even legal?” The second his eyes hit the photo, gone was the smug grin. All the color drained from his face leaving him ghostly white then replaced by a lovely growing shade of bright red. Busted, cock-whore, fuck-knuckle, lying, cheating sack of shit.

“Cole. Look. It’s not what you think-” He didn’t really even look remorseful; only pissed that he was caught. For some reason I didn’t feel hurt, more… a sense of relief. Now I just want him out of my face; my shop; and my life.

Putting my hand up cutting off his stammering and stuttering plus whatever bullshit he could spew, his excuses or ‘explanation’ would only fuel my ire. I planted a sickly sweet smile on my face. Also fake on my part; I just want him gone. “I don’t want to hear it, Scott. And before you feed me some line of crap, this guy was seen doing the walk of shame from your place this morning. We’re through.” Bending over I picked up a flower delivery bucket off the floor dropping it on the counter with an echoing thud. “Here is all your crap. Don’t contact me again. Whatever you have of mine, keep it, burn it, chuck it. I don’t give a shit.”

Turning to walk away, I could hear him still feeding my back some garbage he was trying to sell. I’m not all that upset about the break-up, just that I was cheated on – again. I’m so sick of it. I think I’ll give dating and relationships a rest for a while. It’s not like I can have who I want anyway. It’s probably why I always go for the wrong type of guy; I know the relationship won’t work out. I don’t want it to work out, so I don’t have to put in a lot of effort. Subconsciously, of course.

“Leave, asshole. Lose my number.” I didn’t even glance over my shoulder while walking away. Pretty proud of myself.

As I head toward my office, Micah came spilling out at lightning speed pushing past me. His arms flew in different directions while his mouth issued warnings and demands rapidly all the while pushing Scott to the door.

“He said to leave, you f–”

Micah’s cussing was the last thing I heard before slamming the office door cutting me off from the rest of the world. With a sigh of relief, I let myself drop into my ridiculous office chair with only two remaining wheels. Of course, the balance is off, so we both tumbled to the floor with the chair landing on top of me like a cheap date.

Deep breath.

Fuck this day.

The office door opened with a whoosh. Micah looked at the desk poising to say something. His expression showed his confusion for a second, then his eyes fell to me on the floor tilting his head so that our gaze was even. His lips immediately stretched into a big ol’ smirk and his eyes now danced with amusement.

“Uh, what are you doing on the floor?” He asked, moving the chair off me and setting it on its broken feet.

“Contemplating…”

Micah’s eyes now glistening with merriment, “Oh, yeah. What?”

“Homicide, mostly,” I mumbled shrugging my shoulder on the dirty tiled floor of my office. Which reminds me; I really need to clean in here more often because… gross.

The rat bastard held out his hand to help me off the floor while laughing raucously because for some reason he seemed unable to hold it in any longer. I’ll probably catch some terrible rare virus or disease from being on this filthy floor, so I begrudgingly accept his kind offer. It seems like the place to lick my wounds. Plus, now I know I need to paint the inside of the shop and office again. The place looks so drab instead of cheerful like a flower shop should.

“One,” he said, counting off on his fingers, “you are way too pretty for prison. Two, you’re too dumb not to get caught. And three, well, I don’t know what else, but there should be a three.”

Snorting a laugh, I pulled him into a hug.

“Thanks,” I whispered in his ear.

“Welcome, and to thank me you’re gonna let me come in late tomorrow. I plan on having breakfast for two. Lots and lots of protein.” He said, pulling himself out of the hug but holding onto my shoulders so I couldn’t escape.

Scrunching my nose in disgust yet still smiling because the man has a knack of making me laugh and grossing me out all at the same time. He’s like my brother. That’s the sentiment I was looking for earlier, he’s like a brother to me. A younger menacing brother, but a good one. Just like my actual brother Nathan. In fact, the similarity in their personalities is overwhelming. Ha! Family, can’t help but love them.

“You slut,” I said chuckling as he released me from his clutches.

Micah’s smirk and accompanying wink tells me my words hadn’t offended him. “You know it, baby. Alright, I’m off. No murder tonight, boss-man. I’m going to be balls deep in the assets of the lovely Sasha and his... anyway I’m not giving that up to help you dispose of a body. Mmm, the things that man can do with his–”

“Goodnight, slutty mcslutterson. See you tomorrow before lunch, hopefully,” I tell him while clapping my hand over his mouth and turning him toward the door with a gentle but forceful shove.

I need a goddamn drink.

 

 

I hope this is a start to a new friendship with the boys from McGee's club and I hope you enjoy the journey. :) 
Stay safe and well all. 
Joh
Copyright © 2022 Bndmetl; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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Holy mackerel...anybody got a bucket of ice to soothe that burn???

Pulling my phone from my pocket, I found the photo my friend Tommy had sent me of Scott against the wall of ‘McGees,’ Tommy’s club. Scott’s tongue down someone’s throat that wasn’t me. Turning it around so he can see it. “Did you even check the kid’s identification?” I let the picture speak for itself. And it did, in alarmingly loud silence. “Are you sure he is even legal?” The second his eyes hit the photo, gone was the smug grin. All the color drained from his face leaving him ghostly white then replaced by a lovely growing shade of bright red. Busted, cock-whore, fuck-knuckle, lying, cheating sack of shit.

“Cole. Look. It’s not what you think-” He didn’t really even look remorseful; only pissed that he was caught. For some reason I didn’t feel hurt, more… a sense of relief. Now I just want him out of my face; my shop; and my life.

Putting my hand up cutting off his stammering and stuttering plus whatever bullshit he could spew, his excuses or ‘explanation’ would only fuel my ire. I planted a sickly sweet smile on my face. Also fake on my part; I just want him gone. “I don’t want to hear it, Scott. And before you feed me some line of crap, this guy was seen doing the walk of shame from your place this morning. We’re through.” Bending over I picked up a flower delivery bucket off the floor dropping it on the counter with an echoing thud. “Here is all your crap. Don’t contact me again. Whatever you have of mine, keep it, burn it, chuck it. I don’t give a shit.”

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On 1/10/2022 at 6:45 AM, drsawzall said:

Holy mackerel...anybody got a bucket of ice to soothe that burn???

Pulling my phone from my pocket, I found the photo my friend Tommy had sent me of Scott against the wall of ‘McGees,’ Tommy’s club. Scott’s tongue down someone’s throat that wasn’t me. Turning it around so he can see it. “Did you even check the kid’s identification?” I let the picture speak for itself. And it did, in alarmingly loud silence. “Are you sure he is even legal?” The second his eyes hit the photo, gone was the smug grin. All the color drained from his face leaving him ghostly white then replaced by a lovely growing shade of bright red. Busted, cock-whore, fuck-knuckle, lying, cheating sack of shit.

“Cole. Look. It’s not what you think-” He didn’t really even look remorseful; only pissed that he was caught. For some reason I didn’t feel hurt, more… a sense of relief. Now I just want him out of my face; my shop; and my life.

Putting my hand up cutting off his stammering and stuttering plus whatever bullshit he could spew, his excuses or ‘explanation’ would only fuel my ire. I planted a sickly sweet smile on my face. Also fake on my part; I just want him gone. “I don’t want to hear it, Scott. And before you feed me some line of crap, this guy was seen doing the walk of shame from your place this morning. We’re through.” Bending over I picked up a flower delivery bucket off the floor dropping it on the counter with an echoing thud. “Here is all your crap. Don’t contact me again. Whatever you have of mine, keep it, burn it, chuck it. I don’t give a shit.”

Hahaha, I'll send you some burn cream in case you get too close. :D

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