Howie whistled softly to himself as he hurried down the steps of his two story home, making sure the guest rooms each girl had selected were perfected for their first night there. He had been pleasantly surprised when they showed up on his doorstep, knowing that he could do a world of good for them once all their injuries had healed completely. And the idea that Grace was back in his life sent tingles down his spine, till he remembered the haunted look in her beautiful eyes. Something had seemed different as she stood in his living room, agitated and restless. It was as if she wanted no part in this deal. It caused a sour note to ring against Howie's heart, but he did his best to brush that aside as he stepped into the kitchen to find Kitra digging out various items from his fridge. "Still hungry?"
"I'm always hungry," Kitra assured with a wicked grin, picking at the cold, crispy skin of the chicken Howie had fried yesterday. She looked to be in a state of bliss as her blue-gray eyes twinkled with delight. She bounced on the balls of her feet like a child in her favorite toy store, but to Howie she looked anything but innocent. The scrubs that the hospital had obviously given her had been altered to her delight. She had ripped the scrub top to expose her navel, flipping it and knotting it through her breasts to give her an ample amount of cleavage. And the scrub bottoms had been tightened to adhere like a coat of surgical green paint, ripped just below her buttocks to show off her curvaceous body and defined legs.
"You would get along with Brian and Nick perfectly," Howie commented with a chuckle, although his stomach was slightly churning. He wondered how a woman so beautiful could make herself look like such a... well, he hated to think it... slut.
"Who are they?" Kitra questioned with interest, hopping on the marble counter of his kitchen island. She licked at her fingers for every morsel of chicken, staring at Howie with acute interest. She had been on a high since Howie invited both her and Grace to stay in his beautiful home. It was a castle compared to the shitty residences she had kept in her lifetime and she knew she'd have to thank Howie in some manner at some point.
"They're two of my good friends and band-mates... you have heard of the Backstreet Boys, right? I'm not trying to insult--"
"Oh! Okay, now I know why you look so familiar!" Kitra interrupted with widened eyes.
"Yeah?" Howie chuckled.
"Damn, now I know why I made Racie dance to one of your songs," Kitra purred, extending her leg out to rest her heel against Howie's shoulder. The openness of her sitting position gave Howie ample opportunity to do many unspeakable things as her eyes glittered with appreciation. "You're sure that I can't repay you for all this?"
"I'm sure. Just knowing that I'm helping you both have better lives is thanks enough," Howie gently grasped her ankle and pulled it off his shoulder.
"You really like Racie, don't you?" Kitra laughed with a funny little click of her tongue.
"What makes you say that?" Howie felt his cheeks flush.
"Woman's intuition," Kitra approved, Howie's fiery cheeks already confirming what she had previously thought.
"If your woman's intuition is so acute, then you should have some concerns about the way you're dressed," Howie answered, easily shifting the conversation around. He knew he would have to take these girls shopping tomorrow before even thinking about inviting his band mates over to explain the whole situation.
"What's wrong with the way I'm dressed?" Kitra defended with a scowl.
"Besides the fact that you're almost naked?"
"I am not almost naked!"
"You are... Do you have any other clothes?"
"No. They were either shredded up during the attack or auctioned off."
"Then I guess I'm going to have to take you shopping tomorrow, huh?"
Kitra frowned, "I don't have any money--"
"I know. It's my treat for you and Grace."
"You're already giving us a place to live..."
"I know, but this is something I want to do. I'm not asking for anything in return."
Kitra laughed as she leaned to hug Howie, giving him an affectionate kiss on the cheek. "I can't believe it! I'm going to have to go tell Racie--"
"Where is she?"
"Down on the beach--" Kitra attempted to hop down from the tall kitchen island until Howie caught her shoulders. He pushed her back into her original spot, causing her light blonde brows to furl with confusion. "Unless you want to give her the good news?"
"Could I?"
"I won't deny you..."
"I think that's what I'm afraid of," Howie laughed nervously.
"I don't think I'm allowed to swoop in on Racie's territory like that," Kitra assured with a shrug of her bare shoulders, turning back to the chicken she had been devouring. "And, you should be so distraught on the fact that you like her. All the guys love the little brat. Evan's even crazy about her..."
"Evan?"
"...My pimp... he's the one who beat and raped us... he wanted her so bad."
"You're really frank about things aren't you..."
"Can't shy around issues," Kitra shrugged, unfazed by the details she had revealed. It was life. "And, Evan always gets what he wants... Eventually..."
"He won't be getting either of you. That's something I can promise, Kitra."
"Uh-huh," Kitra replied with a shrug of her shoulders, not really interested in his promises. "Don't be so surprised if Racie isn't thrilled with the whole shopping excursion to buy her affections."
"I'm not trying to buy her affec--"
"She's going to think you are."
"Why?"
"Because she's a stubborn brat."
Howie held his breath as he walked down the still warm beaches as the sun slowly sunk into the darkening sky, thinking of everything Kitra had told him. She had been quite blunt with her statements, far too numbed from experiences to really care about being so crass. Mostly what struck Howie were her statements about Grace. It startled him to think that she was already against odds with him when he was only trying his best to help her. It seemed unfair that she could judge him so quickly when he gave her every benefit of the doubt. Yet, he didn't know anything about her past, so he couldn't even begin to understand.
His body did though, responding to every signal as he neared the woman sitting just a few feet away from the incoming tide. Her strawberry blonde curls were caught within the ending rays of daylight, setting off a brilliantly gorgeous flame of golden lighting to compliment her peaches-and-cream complexion. The scrub set was baggy on her body, but Howie could still see the outlines of her gorgeous figure. The same figure that he had been so intimate with a few weeks previous. She was focusing her energy on something in her hand, which she instantly tucked away when she felt Howie's presence.
"What do you want?" she instantly responded, her voice catching a little with obvious pain.
"I just wanted to talk," Howie replied gently, no harsh tones in his voice against her attitude. "Do you mind if I sit down?"
"I'm not a drug abuser if that's what you need to know. And I didn't come down to get some quick fix," Grace announced, extending her good arm to show no obvious track marks that could flaw her beautiful skin, though it was badly discolored from the healing bruises. "And I'm not some junky prostitute who had a bad fight with her loser boyfriend that also turns out to be her pimp. Not that you care though. And not that you should care, because I'm not going to be here that damn long anyway. I'm here because Kit wanted to be here. You can check between my toes and fingers and gums if you think I'm trying to hide some nasty track marks from you... Tomorrow. I'll be your prized horse or every fantasy tomorrow. Just leave me alone for tonight, how 'bout it?"
"Whoa, hold on right there. I wasn't going to ask you any of that, nor did I assume anything. I'm giving both you and Kitra the benefit of a doubt," Howie held up his hands in defense, not expecting such a sharp outburst. "I don't want you to be my prized horse or fantasy or anything of the sort. I would be happy with just being your friend and I really don't understand why you're like this towards me when you were nice at Devil's."
"I only wanted to turn out a cheap buck," Grace guessed sarcastically, turning her gaze back toward the ocean. As much as she enjoyed watching it, sometimes she still longed for the fresh water river she used to play in all day long as a child. The peacefulness of the lake always seemed to soothe her soul, not like the constantly churning ocean that put her at such a state of unrest. She couldn't help as her muscles grew taunt at the warmth of Howie's body against her side. She had dreamed about him in the hospital, which just made her sick to her stomach. She couldn't trust men.
"Okay, if that's how you felt about it. But I've been treating you with nothing but respect. I'm not trying to tell you how to feel or act, but I always believed if others respect you, that you should respect them as well," Howie bit back bitter words. Grace's past was hazy and unclear, so he couldn't snap back. He didn't understand.
"How did you feel about it?" Grace returned, growing cold at the frustration flowing through Howie's voice. She immediately turned with every intention on verbally beating him to death, but she got swept in the dark coloring of his beautiful brown eyes. Every sour word slowly dissipated from the front of her mind, causing her to bite heavily on her bottom lip. She could imagine her mother turning over in her grave at the sound of Grace's ungratefulness. Howie hadn't done anything wrong to her, yet. "I'm sorry--"
"You don't have to be sorry. I don't know anything about your past and that's why I'm not making any assumptions," Howie interrupted gently, not taking her bitter words quite to heart. "I'm just trying to be understanding."
"Then I should try to do the same," Grace established, scolding herself for even to think of asking Howie what the lap dance had meant to him. It wasn't anything out of the ordinary. She had felt his erection growing beneath her subtle and seductive moves, knowing that her pretty face and body had roused a state of ecstasy within him. She had tempted him into thinking about sex. In fact, she had tempted him into thinking about having sex with her. That's what those strip clubs were for - men's fantasies. Nothing more. Nothing less.
"Then we'll both be understanding with each other," Howie compromised, resisting the urge to place an arm around her shoulders. It wasn't appropriate. "But I came out here to ask you something. Since you don't have any clothes because of current circumstances... I wanted to know if you would let me buy you some clothes tomorrow."
"And what is that going to cost me?" Grace grimaced, remembering distinctly the heavy prices she paid to get a job interview at Devil's Playground and for her ‘special’ costumes.
"It's not going to cost you anything--"
"Bullshit."
"I'm not asking for any money, any favors, nothing."
"Then you like Kit better than me?" Grace guessed.
"How do you figure that?"
"She's going to be the one turning the trick to pay for the clothing--"
"Um, no. I'm not taking anything from her, either."
Grace's light honey blonde brows furled in obvious confusion, never knowing a man to do something for a woman without a payback in his mind. "Then what's the catch?"
"There is no catch."
"There has to be a catch."
"There is no catch," Howie repeated.
Grace shook her head with refusal, "I don't take handouts."
"What are you going to wear everyday? Those scrubs?"
"If I have to--"
"Just stop. You need clothes and I want to buy them for you. Couldn't you just say 'thank you' and accept them?"
"No--"
"Grace, please. I don't know how hard it is for you to accept something without giving a 'favor' in return, but please, I want to do this for you and Kitra."
"I can't be in debt to a man again."
"It's not a debt."
"Until we leave and then you suddenly decide that a pay-up is in order--"
"Nope, that's not going to happen."
Grace rolled her eyes with frustration, turning away to pick at the fraying gauze layer beneath the thick plaster of her cast. "You're a stubborn jackass, y'know that, right?"
"Stubborn, yes. Never been called a jackass, though, so you're the first," Howie knew he had won the first of what he knew would be many battles.
"I guess women would be more inclined to call you a tiger more so than a jackass, considering your...endowments..." Grace stated intelligently, never bothering to glance back into the chocolate orbs that had captivated her when she first danced for him.
"I guess it was kind of pointless to wish you hadn't felt my reaction, huh?" Howie blushed heavily.
"Why would you?"
"I didn't want you to think I'm a pervert--"
"You are far from a pervert, trust me," Grace actually laughed, curling her free fingers around the coiled ringlet of strawberry honey hair. "Besides, I think it would even be hard for a monk not to pop an erection with a half naked woman grinding on his lap."
"Yeah, well, you're a very good dancer, if I may say so."
"Any girl can wiggle her hips and take off her clothes for a few extra bucks," Grace disagreed, trying not to physically wince as she carefully shifted her lower half so her legs wouldn't fall asleep.
"There's a difference," Howie insisted.
"How?"
"You actually get into the dancing and the music. You know what you're doing."
"Right..." she drew skeptically.
"It's just my opinion."
"And you would know wouldn't you?" Grace guessed, turning to glance into his dark brown eyes for just a moment. Her own emerald eyes shimmered with recognition as she concentrated within her memories. "But I doubt you'd give me even a bare second glancing if I were try out for your tour. And if you should happen to look at me while I'm dancing, you would only see the added benefits of possibly scoring with a beautiful backup dancer instead of the concentration and work that I truly value."
"Will you please stop assuming what I think and or feel about you? You've got a talent in dancing, I can see that," Howie frowned softly at her accusations.
"If you don't assume in my line of business, you're liable to get bitten."
"I don't bite, if you know anything about me from my singing career."
"You'd rather me stake my opinion of you based on tabloids?"
"Not tabloids, those are trash magazines," Howie shook his head. "I mean on the television, possibly in concert, in magazines such as People, Rolling Stone, and Entertainment Weekly."
"You're definitely something else, Stranger."
"So are you."
"Y'know, usually people who drawl really luscious baths like that get into the tub to actually enjoy them," Kitra voiced as she stepped into Howie's lavish bathroom to see Grace sitting on the counter with a towel wrapped gingerly around her petite body. She was just staring at the large, steaming bathtub coated with sweet smelling, lavender bubbles in true awe. After her long conversation with Howie on the beach, he had escorted her inside to prepare dinner. Kitra had actually helped Howie prepare the dinner and the three had actually had a decent conversation throughout the course. Then, when Grace offered to wash the dishes, Howie disagreed because of her cast and sent the girls to relax.
"It seems like a sin to get in it..." Grace breathed softly, just concentrating on the large tub with awe. She had wanted to try to spend some time in a long relaxing bath in order to clear her thoughts, especially. But when the warm water poured from the waterfall-like faucet, she couldn't help but think this was wrong. This wasn't her house and never in her life had she been treated to such beautiful things. It caused an uneasy knot to form within her stomach.
"It's not a sin. It's because of God that we're even here in such an amazing house with a sweet host like Howie. C'mon, Racie, the Lord wants you to take a tubby," Kitra encouraged, gently rubbing Grace's shoulder.
"It's not because of God that we're here, Kit," Grace immediately frowned, knowing she shouldn't even be speaking with Kitra at this point. But, whenever Kitra screwed up, she always had a way of weaseling back into Grace's sweet heart.
"Would you rather be at our ghetto apartment or a house like this?"
"That's not the point--"
"I know. We're here because I fucked up but if it wasn't for God... Howie wouldn't have come by to save us and offer shelter."
"It really scares me that you have no qualms about just letting him do this," Grace spoke freely as Kitra forced her off the counter. She yelped a bit as her stitches pulled, but Kitra didn't seem too fazed. Instead, the older girl stripped Grace of her towel, practically pushing her into the warmth of the water. Then, she playfully dunked Grace's head into the water so she could start lathering her thick curls with shampoo. "Kit!"
"You smell bad," Kitra shrugged, running her fingernails gently across Grace's scalp as she lathered up. "I'm letting Howie do this for us because I trust him. Have you not paid attention to his band? He's a complete sweetheart and if anyone gets burned in a relationship, it's him. He's been nothing but nice, Racie."
"I don't care if he's Jesus incarnated, I don't trust him," Grace scowled, holding her cast on a folded towel along the thick lip of the tub.
"You're too bullheaded," Kitra frowned, grabbing the large cup she had been drinking water out of. "Not every guy is the same, no matter what your brain has been telling you."
"You're just in ecstasy because he offered to buy you clothing free of charge," Grace grimaced, screeching softly as icy water was sloshed over her upper body, dripping down her spine. She immediately tensed as if she might jump out of the tub, Kitra laughing hysterically. "You freaking wench!"
"He offered both of us clothes free of charge," Kitra corrected, still laughing.
"Yeah, well, if he offers to sleep with one of us, I'm offering you first," Grace seethed, attempting to wipe her cold, wet matted locks away from her beautiful face.
"Okay, fine, but he'll never offer that because he bought us clothes. He would ask you because he likes you."
"Ask me?" Grace questioned in confusion as Kitra carefully poured warm water over Grace's back to relax her before starting to lather the conditioner. "And what the Hell do you mean he likes me?"
"I mean he likes you," Kitra replied, gently rubbing each and every curl until they were coated in conditioner.
"Excuse me, didn't we both finish high school?"
"Exactly, which means you're smart enough to see when a guy truly likes you."
"He doesn't like me," Grace laughed, though she ducked underneath the water to hide her face more so than to help Kitra rinse the curls. She didn't even really want to think about Howie liking her, because she couldn't allow her heart to be hurt again. Twenty one years of protecting herself was hard to change, especially for one man that could probably cost her everything.
"Oh shut up, yes he does. You're just too blind to see it," Kitra replied.
"You tried to hit on him, didn't you?" Grace coughed softly as she rubbed her free hand against her face to rid the water.
"I just said I could thank him for what he's doing for us and he turned me down. I said he liked you and his cheeks got all red. It was cute," Kitra admitted, running her fingers through Grace's locks to loosen them.
"Why do you do that? Whenever a guy turns you down - once in a million years - you insist it's because he has a thing for me," Grace scowled.
"But I also said to him that he liked you and he blushed! Duh!"
"Stop reading those romance books, Kit, before your brain turns to mush."
"I'm just telling you the truth."
"If you don't mind, I'll just wait till he throws me on his bed and begs to make wild passionate love with me, okay?" Grace teased sarcastically as her best friend wrapped her curls lovingly within a towel. Carefully, Kitra helped Grace stand, allowing the girl to move to wrap another thick towel around her body.
"I'm going to laugh when he actually does it and you fall off the bed in shock," Kitra teased back.
"You should know better. There is no such thing as making love," Grace scorned as she opened the bathroom door to step into the hallway. Only, she bumped straight into Howie who was holding a few pairs of clothing for the girls to sleep in, causing her to stumble back and clutch the towel tightly to her swelling chest. "Holy shit, were you spying or what?!"
"Um no, I was giving you some pajamas," Howie took a step back as well. Grace looked beautiful even in a towel.
"Oh..." Grace trailed for a moment, bowing her head slightly as her cheeks flushed a rosy pink. She shifted uncomfortably in the towel as she chewed on her bottom lip, Kitra laughing behind her. She didn't know why Howie made her so uneasy. Most men were just an outlet of pain to her. When she was on the stage, she would pretend she was alone in her own private dance studio, just enjoying the melody of her favorite songs. Undressing in front of people seemed no longer an issue. Far more comfortable with her body than most women. But with Howie, everything changed in seconds. "Sorry..."
"It's okay, you don't need to be sorry," Howie came forward again and held out a pair of purple mesh shorts and black tank top for Grace.
"You really didn't have to do this," Grace stated, somewhat shy as she reached to grasp the clothing as she struggled to hold the towel close to her body.
"I'm doing this because I want to," Howie finally smiled, holding out another pair of shorts and tank top to Kitra.
"Thank you, Sweetheart," Kitra chirped, stepping from behind Grace to take her clothing. She bounced onto the tips of her toes, pressing a warm kiss to Howie's mouth. She glanced back to Grace to see the flicker of jealousy dance across her best friend's emerald eyes, causing her to grin wider. "I'll see you two tomorrow bright and early for shopping!"
"Night, Kit..." Grace murmured, swallowing the lump of jealousy in her throat as Kitra skipped down the hall to her luscious room.
"She's very... affectionate, isn't she?" Howie replied, wiping his lips on the back of his shirt.
"She's very grateful for all your doing for us," Grace agreed with a soft nod of her head, pressing her back tightly against the wall as Howie continued to stand in front of her. She held the clothing against her chest to help brace the towel, allowing her cast to hang at her side. "Or maybe she just really likes you."
"I think AJ's more her type than me," Howie disagreed.
"And what's your type?" Grace found herself asking, despite every neuron in her brain screaming for her to get away. She was taking such dangerous steps toward something she didn't want.
"Someone who's sweet... precocious... compassionate and caring. Sensitive and a sense of humor is definitely a must," Howie described what he thought was Grace to a tee.
"Sounds like a great catch..."
"I was hoping I already found her."
"Say what?"
"I was talking about you."
Grace was honestly floored, glancing behind herself to pray that Kitra was Howie's source. Yet, she was greeted with an empty hallway. She immediately glanced back into his dark chocolate eyes, feeling her own start to tear. She was nothing like what Howie had described and his insistence that she was something else caused a terrible amount of pain. God was playing a nasty trick. Her throat constricted as she wheezed, "Thanks for the clothes... I better get to bed... Big day t'morrow, y'know?"
"Are you alright? I was just speaking the tru--"
"I'm fine, just really tired. Thanks again," she squeezed by him and stumbled towards her room.
"You're welcome..." Howie called, unable to wipe the gentle smile from his face.
