Glitch (Next Level Book 1)

I didn’t get to the shop Glitch told me about until Thursday. I felt terrible about it at first, but really, it’s not like I made an appointment, and he didn’t say I had to come immediately. I’ve been trying my best to fix the problem myself so I wouldn’t have to go at all. He’ll know what happened the second he sees it, and I don’t want to explain myself. But I also don’t want to lie to him. It feels wrong to start off with a fib. Even if this thing between us goes nowhere, I just don’t think I can do it.

Relax. He’s fixing your computer, not your life.

I really need to chill. It’s just a drop off. Nothing more.

But I want more.

Nope. I think I want more.

Really, I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing lately. My life’s a mess. I can’t get my muse to come out of hiding, so everything I’ve been painting is trash, and I’m in desperate need to get laid. And… okay, this is the real truth… I dumped my whacko boyfriend, who keeps showing up at odd times of the day and night. I never know when he’s going to bang on my door drunk, or call me begging to take him back, or be waiting at my favorite coffee shop with a muffin for me. It’s annoying and exhausting. And scary.

Pulling into the parking lot, I’m a little surprised I haven’t been to the Computer Cave before. I’ve driven past it a bunch of times, but never thought to go in. It’s in a strip mall, on the busy side of town. Anime and game posters are displayed in the big windows. The green neon OPEN sign glows brightly beneath an electric blue Computer Cave sign.

I grab my computer and find myself hesitating at the door. I’m going to meet Glitch. This is it. The guy I’ve been low-key swooning over for months is right on the other side of this door. Is he tall? Bulky? Inked?

My heart flutters in my chest.

Wow. That I’m this excited to meet this guy in person proves I really need to socialize more often. He’s only fixing my computer, not fucking me.

Okay. Whoa. Where’d that thought come from?

Simmer down, hot sauce. You’re here for your computer, not your libido.

The door opens. “Coming in?”

I stand there until my cheeks grow hot. “Y-yeah. Sorry.” I scoot past the man and head inside, clutching my heavy computer to my chest like I’m two seconds away from muttering, “My precious.”

“What can I help you with?” The guy shuts the door and follows me inside.

I don’t answer because I’m too distracted by the graffiti covering all four walls in bright colors. There’s a group of young kids playing a board game at one of the six-foot tables in the center of the place. Falling in Reverse is blasting from the surround sound. There’s a couch with a huge flat screen along the back wall and a stand under it holding every gaming console ever made.

“Miss?”

I can’t stop looking around. Haku, the dragon from Spirited Away, hangs from the ceiling and must stretch twenty feet long. There are so many colors and textures around here, it’s incredibly stimulating. My artistic heart skips a beat.

“Miss? Did you need something done to your computer or are you consigning it?”

“What?” I finally drag my gaze back to the guy talking to me. “Umm. Yeah. I’m here to see Glitch?” Because this guy isn’t Glitch. His voice is way too… normal.

“He’s in the back. Hang on.” The guy shouts over at the table of kids, “Hey, Beetle! Go tell the boss man someone’s here for him.”

A kid springs from his seat and dashes into the back.

“That boy has more energy than I get after six quad macchiatos.”

“Six quad?”

“Four shots of espresso in each.”

Holy shit. “You drink six of those a day?”

“Only when I want to speak to electricity and hear colors.”

I laugh, and it feels great because I haven’t felt this light in weeks.

While I wait for Glitch to appear, I let me eyes, and mind, wander some more.

•••

Glitch

I can’t find a replacement for this one fucking screw, and it’s driving me nuts. After taking apart a Zephyrus G15 laptop, I refuse to get it all back together and have one screw beat me. Most people tear this equipment apart and end up with screws left over. Not me. My dumbass managed to lose it, and I can’t find my box of spares to save my life.

The back of my shop is made up of an inventory closet and an eight-foot-long worktable that no one else but me can use. Boxes are lined up against one of the walls, and I have tubes of posters in a barrel that I give out as prizes sometimes. Above my tool bench is a series of small drawers with a variety of screws, pins, and spare memory cards. Below that is an old toolbox filled with hard drives, batteries, spare wires, graphics cards, and other shit.

“Uncle Glitch!”

“Yeah?” I call out. Ah-ha! Found it! I pluck a small screw out the drawer and clutch it in my hand as I turn around to see what my nephew needs. He comes here after school on days my sister works evenings. I get stuck helping him with his homework, but I don’t mind.

“There’s a lady here to see you.”

I freeze. Ara. I almost gave up hope that she’d actually come. I never gave her a specific day or time to drop into my shop, but in the back of my mind, I really hoped it would have been the next day. When she never showed, I shoved away the possibility of her bringing computer problems to me so I wouldn’t fixate on it.

I spent the better part of Monday staring at the door. Tuesday, I came in on my day off and waited in the back, distracting myself by organizing shit. Wednesday, I was a salty motherfucker. This morning I came in thinking she’d gone elsewhere and refused to be upset about it. She didn’t know me. I’d never made an effort with her. And it was a computer, not a fucking date. She wasn’t standing me up.

But the instant Beetle said a woman was here to see me, damned if my heart didn’t leap into my throat. I calmly make my way to the door and look out.

The screw I’ve spent forty-five minutes trying to find falls out of my hand and bounces across the floor.

Ara’s back is to me. Jesus fucking Christ, this woman’s ass should be illegal. There’s so much I want to grab and bite. My hands close into fists and I grind my molars together. Fuck me, she’s hot. And I haven’t even seen her face yet. Her pink hair is long and curly, cascading down her back in waves. I imagine digging my fingers into it, tugging by the roots, and forcing her head back so I can kiss her while I take her from behind.

“Are you okay, Uncle Glitch?”

I snap out of my fantasy at the sound of my nephew. Holy shit, I forgot he was here. I forgot I was here. Completely sucked into Ara’s orbit, I didn’t realize there were other life forms around. “Yeah. Why?”

“You’re making weird noises.”

Am I? Well, he’ll get it one day when he’s a grown ass man lusting over his perfect woman. I can’t peel my gaze away from Ara. She tips her head back and laughs at something my manager says to her. Rage and jealousy have me leaving my sanctuary and heading for the counter.

I don’t want anyone else getting a piece of her. Not her laugh. Her time. Her attention.

She’s mine.

I can’t explain why I feel the way I do, but now that she’s here, she’s real.

And she’s fucking mine.

“Glitch, this lady has a computer she needs you to—”

“Ara,” I say, and quickly grab the computer from her. I can’t believe my manager made her hold this heavy thing. Fucker should be fired for this. I set the equipment on the counter and hold out my hand. As long as she shakes it, I won’t use it to choke my manager for calling her a lady. She’s a goddess and nothing less. “It’s nice to finally meet you.”

Ara’s eyes widen, and her cheeks turn a bright red.

There it is. The reaction I usually get when I open my mouth. She’s heard me talk before, so I don’t get why my voice would trigger this response now, but it’s starting to make me uneasy. If I can’t figure a way to gain control, I’ll glitch.

I refuse to let that happen. 

But as she gawks at me, with her pretty mouth parted and her pupils blown wide, I start to wonder if she’s the one having the glitch. I bunch my brow together. “Are you okay?”

She sways. Her exhale is shaky, and I watch red and pink blotches take over her neck and chest. Which means I’m now staring at her cleavage.

I want to drag my tongue between her tits and fuck them. Cover them in my cum. Bite them.

Fuck me sideways, I’m getting a hard-on.

Damage control. DAMAGE. CONTROL!

“When do you need your computer back?” I think of sports. I think of shit-stained underwear. I think of the night Trey puked all over my suit at our friend’s wedding. I think of a million things that should deflate my dick, and none of it works. Especially not when Ara bites her bottom lip.

A growl rises from my throat.

Holy Hell. I’ve never acted this way before. It’s fucking everything up.

“You’re Glitch,” she finally says.

I rub the back of my neck and wince. “Yeah.”

“Glitch?”

“Yeah.” How much more awkward can we be here? “And you’re Ara.”

This is painful. Am I not what she thought I’d look like? My body’s filled out, so my deep voice goes well with the muscles I work hard for. I’m six-foot-four and have a full sleeve of ink on my left arm. Am I too much? Not enough? Some women don’t like dark-haired, inked up men like me.

Ara’s gaze lingers on the tattoos covering my forearm. Then her eyes sail across my chest and dip until she…

Yeah, she just checked out my package.

Her cheeks are crimson now. I swear I see a sheen of sweat forming on her forehead.

She likes what she sees.

I arch a brow and clench my molars to keep my smile to a minimum. For once, I’m able to take the reins and drive the first conversation, which is huge for me, honestly. I usually need a minute to warm up to people, but I’m already burning white hot for her.

I run my hand over my mouth, bring her attention upwards. She follows my movements like a cat with a bird.

Heyyyy, Kitty.

“So.” I clear my throat. “It randomly shuts down, huh?” She just keeps eating me up with her eyes. They follow my hand as I tap the top of her computer. “Does it make any weird noises too?”

She blinks. “Oh. Yeah. No. Wait… what?”

Adorable.

It takes me two seconds to see the crack and dent in the side. I’ll be damned. “You actually kicked it?” I thought Trey was joking about that.

Now her face pales. “I didn’t.”

Tension builds in my shoulders. “But someone did?”

She suddenly looks like she wants to bolt. “I, ummm.”

“Here, come with me. Let’s talk about this someplace quieter.” I don’t like that she’s shifty. And I don’t appreciate an audience.

“Okay,” she says quietly, and the boisterous pink-haired bombshell vanishes that fast. A meek, nervous mouse has replaced her. It engages my protective instincts. If she didn’t kick her computer, who did and why?

I’m pissed before I even know the answers. Someone damaged Ara’s property. Someone destroyed something she loves. They should have a lesson in manners.

I’m more than willing to give that motherfucking lesson.

Placing it gingerly on the table in the back of my shop, I get a better look at it. It’s similar to what I have at home. But hers isn’t just cracked, it’s melted on the inside, and something definitely rattled when I carried it in here.

“Do you want to tell me what happened?” I feel bad for prying, but I want to know.

“No.”

I respect her answer. It kills me to not know the details, though. I’ll earn her trust and ask again later.

“It caught on fire last night,” she blurts. “I tried to restart it one more time and it blew like a firework.”

There most likely isn’t a way to fix this. “How wedded to this machine are you?” Because I have bad news to give her.

“I…” She bites her lip again. Ara’s beauty blows me away. She’s the prettiest woman I’ve ever seen. Brown eyes, big lips, black winged eyeliner, and now that I’m closer, I can see her hair isn’t all pink. It has some purple and black streaks, too. Fucking stunning. “Is there nothing you can do to save it?”

There’s sentimental value attached to this thing, I bet. “I’ll do everything in my power to get it running again. But if I can’t…”

“It’s okay.” Something passes over her face that I can’t make out, and my heart thuds with an ache seeing it. “I’d just really like to try and save it if it’s possible.”

Same. “How soon do you need it back?”

“No rush.” Ara rubs her neck like she’s a little flustered. “And I’ll pay for your time, even if it can’t be fixed.”

She isn’t paying me a dime.

“I’ll get started on it today.” I suspect it’s a lost cause, but I don’t want to say it without knowing for sure. I’ve worked on consoles that looked worse, so hey, there might be a chance of salvaging this thing. I’ll find out once I tear into it. “I can text you when it’s ready.” Or drop it off at your house and worship you for a night.

She shoots me a killer smile that makes my knees weak. “Yeah, great. I mean, please don’t put me at the top of the pile. I’m sure you have a lot going on.” She looks past me at the kids playing chess at one of the tables and sighs. “Thanks for this, Glitch.”

I love the way she says my name. I want to make her scream it till her throat is raw.

Holy shit, what’s wrong with me? I’ve never been this way over a woman in my life. So ready to drop to my knees and make her feel like she’s the only star I’ll orbit around. Instead, I’m the computer geek she’s entrusting with her broke ass gaming system.

I flash her an easy smile, hoping my vibe will offset the tension in her gaze.

“I’m sure it’s a lost cause.” She clears her throat. “But I just want to know for sure before I plan burial services for it.”

“I’ve never let technology beat me,” I say like a fucking asshat.

My manager slips into the back room with us, inserting himself into the convo, uninvited. “It’s true.” He grabs a box of candy bars to hand out to the kids. “Glitch is a wizard.”

“Well, Wizard. I appreciate this.” Ara steps back, and it takes everything in me to not take one step forward to keep our proximity close. She smells good. Looks good. Sounds good.

Bet she tastes amazing.

“I’ll text you.”

Her gaze lingers on mine for a heartbeat. “Looking forward to it.” Ara spins around to leave and stops halfway through the shop. Turning towards me again, she tosses an easy smile my way and I swear my entire shop glows from it. “I’m so glad we’ve finally met in person, Glitch.”

She walks off before I can say something back. It’s just as well. All my thoughts jumble and words lodge in my throat as she bumps the door with her fine ass and slips on sunglasses as she heads back to her car.

“Wow,” my manager whispers.

I want to throat-punch him.

“She’s hot.”

He’s definitely fired.

“Suuuuuper hot!” says one of the kids at the chess table.

I turn my attention to the middle schoolers and grind my teeth. “Respect, boys. Show some.”

I watch her drive off and remind myself I need to practice what I preach.