Firsts: Book One’s

by Moore, Portia

  “Good night beautiful.”

  I hang up and as I glance over at Parker’s thousand-dollar mirror, I notice I haven’t seen myself smile like this in a very long time.

  Twelve

  “Try this one,” Alex suggests after pouring me three different concoctions of cocktails he’s invented. I pick up the pretty pink one and I’m surprised when it’s both sweet and sour.

  “Oooh this one’s good!”

  “This one’s better.” He slides an orange-colored drink over to me. I look at it skeptically.

  “I’m not a fan of orange stuff,” I mention, and push the drink away.

  “Just trust me, okay?” he says sliding the drink back to me.

  “It’s the worst flavor in the world,” I insist, bringing it to my nose and scrunching it up. He gives me an exasperated look so I sigh and gulp it down. I make a disgusted face and he frowns at me, then I shrug.

  “You were right, it’s amazing,” I admit, licking my lips. His eyes linger on mine a moment before he grabs a bottle of water and hands it to me.

  “You’ve got to drink this before you taste anything else,” he scolds me. I take it from him begrudgingly.

  “How am I going to get drunk if you keep making me drink all of this water?” I whine and he laughs.

  “This isn’t about getting drunk, this is about helping me choose the million-dollar cocktail,” he reminds me. We’re sitting in the bar he moonlights at. Alex is a busy man and works three jobs: one at the serving company with me, bartends at two different nightclubs, and in the summer he works construction. I’ve already teased him about wanting to see him in his sexy uniform, only half joking. He saves every penny he can to one day open his own bar. In the short time I’ve known him, I have no doubt he’s going to do it.

  “You’re serving a girl who loves to drink. I’m not hard to please,” I remind with a shrug. He rolls his eyes at me but reaches across the bar and pulls down on my two pigtails.

  “That also means you have excellent taste,” he retorts.

  “I guess that’s true,” I say softly realizing how close we are. If I leaned in a few more inches he could kiss me.

  “And what about you?” he asks releasing me from his spell, and we’re apart again.

  “What about me?”

  “What do you want? You’re here in New York dealing with rich people’s crap to make money, and for what?” he asks.

  “Maybe I love it here.” I can’t even say the lie with a straight face. He can tell I’m lying.

  “I didn’t come here for a dream or to make it big, I came here to…I was running from things I’ve done.”

  “Are you telling me you’re a fugitive?” he says jokingly.

  “No. It’s more…I left my boyfriend I had been with for two years when I found out he was going to propose.” He stops mid-pour of the drink he was fixing. We’ve had so many conversations but mostly on neutral topics—flirting, glimpses of each other’s pasts, and opening windows to our personalities. But this is beyond that.

  “And then I met a guy who was older and intriguing and handsome and all the things I didn’t know I wanted…and I thought I was in love with him until I found out he had a wife.”

  “Oh shit,” he says shocked.

  “Yeah. He kept sending me flowers and gifts. I thought he’d eventually show up. If he did I wouldn’t have been able to turn him away, so I’m sort of hiding. Kind of.” Telling him feels like a weight’s been lifted off my chest.

  “I’m sorry Madison, what a dickhead.” Anger blurs his handsome features.

  “It’s in the past though. I’m pushing forward.”

  “Well, I’m glad you ran here.” The moment envelops us. He starts to say something but I don’t like the heaviness, the seriousness of the topic I injected in our space. A space that was nice and fun. So I change the subject.

  “What’s your Instagram?” I ask.

  “Oh you’re going to accept me now?” he says and I give him a guilty shrug.

  “Bars4u92,” he says and I snicker.

  “I didn’t realize your fourth job was as a rapper,” I joke and he frowns at me.

  “No it’s supposed to be like bartender for the people…but I have bars.” He says the last part jokingly. I pull it up on my phone and it looks terrible.

  “Alex what the hell is this?” I ask confused.

  “What do you mean? It’s Instagram not a business card.”

  “Are you insane? Instagram is your business card, it’s just as important if not more important than a website,” I tell him flabbergasted.

  “I don’t even have that many followers. I get gigs through referrals.”

  “I bet that’s the only way because this is terrible. You have ten posts of drinks with no type of style or pizazz. You only use one hashtag, which is your username, that no one will recognize because…well, your Instagram is terrible. And your profile picture isn’t a logo or even your face, it’s a bad quality stock photo,” I reprimand him and he just gives me a lazy grin.

  “Also, you’re completely wasting your hotness; you should be holding your drinks or in the pictures at least.”

  “You want me to whore myself out?” he asks with an adorable laugh.

  “It’s Instagram, everyone’s whoring something,” I tell him honestly.

  “Well if you’re the expert then fix it,” he challenges me.

  “Okay,” I tell him with a laugh.

  Challenge accepted.

  I grab the water he poured me, down it, and stand up, putting my bag on my shoulder.

  “Where are you going?” he asks curiously as I head to the door.

  “Send me your login information and good pictures of drinks you made, with a video,” I instruct him before leaving.

  A few hours and mock designs later I’ve created a website, revamped his Instagram, created a list of hashtags, and am only waiting for the perfect photo of him to make his profile pic. I text him that I’m done. It looks pretty good. Parker strolls in.

  “What are you smiling at?” she sings happily, coming into my room, her guestroom. I gesture for her to sit next to me and show her my work.

  Her eyes lights up.

  “Wow this is amazing,” she says looking over it. I beam.

  “It is pretty good huh? I’ve been working on it all afternoon though.”

  “Wait a minute, you did this in a day?” she asks impressed.

  “It wasn’t that hard. He’s not picky, and he’s not even paying.” I laugh.

  “Who’s this for?”

  “Alex.”

  “The bestie?” she exaggerates with a grin.

  “Yes,” I say simply. My phone dings and instead of him sending an amazing picture of himself selling his service, he sends a picture of him making a weird face. Parker peeks at my phone.

  “He’s so stubborn,” I mutter.

  “Hmm, do you have another pic?” she asks and I hesitate because I know what she’s going to say when she sees him.

  “Nope.”

  “You’re such a terrible liar.”

  She grabs my phone out of my hand, and a second later she’s pulled up a picture I took of him napping at work, one that shows his features undisturbed. He looks like a sleeping modern-day prince.

  “Mads, he’s gorgeous!” she says enthusiastically.

  “You sound shocked,” I say almost offended.

  “I am because you’ve been friends with this guy for two months and you’ve managed to not purposely fall on his penis,” she says in awe.

  “God you make me sound like…”

  “The most sexually liberated woman I know, and the Madison I knew would have liberated with him the first night.” She snickers as I roll my eyes.

  “Anyway, he wants to have his own bar one day. His Instagram was tragic and without a website so I came up with this for him.” Her eyes narrow at me and I frown.

  “What?” I ask with a laugh.

  “You like him,” she says, her ey
es widening.

  “Of course I like him, I said he’s my friend.”

  “No, you like him like him,” she says as if she’s found a unicorn.

  “Don’t be annoying Parks,” I tell her, shutting my laptop.

  “Oh so you wouldn’t mind if you set your other bestie up with your new best friend since you don’t like him like that?” she asks and I wave her off.

  “You’re practically married,” I retort dryly.

  “What if I was single, would you set me up with him?” she asks and I fight the frown trying to set on my face.

  “No because it’d be weird and if things didn’t work out I’d have to kick his ass for hurting you,” I tell her honestly.

  “Okay, what if you found out he has a girlfriend?” she asks, and I shrug.

  “If she’s okay with us hanging out, so am I.”

  Parker gives me a disbelieving look. “I want to meet him,” she says standing from my bed.

  “Why?” I ask following her.

  “Because I like to drink.”

  I roll my eyes at her. “What do you have planned tonight?" I say, changing the subject.

  “We have dinner plans with the ‘rents,”’ she says beaming.

  “You’ve met Brad’s parents?” I ask, still shocked. Parker usually avoids parents like the plague.

  “I have and it’s his grandmother’s birthday so I’ll meet the entire family,” she reveals quietly with but with a bright smile.

  “I’m so happy for you Parks,” I tell her and really mean it.

  “I am happy Mads. So happy,” she laughs before covering her face in embarrassment, then turns to me.

  “I want that for you, however long it takes. Something real, that you don’t have to force or hide from.”

  After I help Parker get ready for her special dinner and send her off I spend the rest of the night watching old episodes of Hell’s Kitchen, and I can’t help but keep glancing at my phone. I thought Alex would say something about the revamp, a thank you, or even a not-exactly-what-I-was-looking-for, but I don’t get anything from him aside from his face screwed up in a selfie. Who am I kidding, he couldn’t look screwed up if he tried. I go get a glass of lemonade from the fridge and when I come back I have a missed call from him. Before I can call back it rings again and it’s Alex.

  “About time,” I mutter.

  “Hey,” I say cautiously. What if he hates it?

  “Are you home?”

  “Uh, yeah,” I tell him.

  “Come downstairs.” I frown and go to my window and see him outside of Parker’s front door.

  “What are you doing here?” I laugh.

  “Bring your ass downstairs, its cold,” he says, and I fight the smile on my face. I grab a hoodie and head down, trying to wipe the stupid grin off my face.

  When I open the door he’s standing there with his hands in his pockets and a slight smile.

  “What’s up?” I ask him.

  “You’re amazing,” he says and my heart skips a beat.

  “I am?” I ask him, still fighting a smile.

  “I can’t believe you did all this.” He holds up his phone.

  “It was nothing,” I tell him easily.

  “It was more than nothing to me,” he says genuinely, his tone sincere. His eyes make me want to kiss him and I can’t do that so I look down at my feet.

  “Are you hungry?” I say quickly.

  “Sure.”

  I lead him upstairs to Parker’s apartment and when he walks in he whistles, impressed.

  “Who’s your friend, Ivanka?” he laughs.

  Parker’s place is beautiful, but everything Parker owns is, so maybe that’s why I’m not as in awe as I should be. I head over to the fridge, my eyes scanning the contents. Parker is vegan this month so there isn’t a whole lot I can offer him that’s tasty.

  “Cheese pizza?” I ask him and he nods with a smile, appeased. Parker has a gorgeous island that stretches across the room, almost bigger than a full-sized bed. He lets out a yawn, looking sleepy, and I fight the thought of wanting to put him to bed.

  “How did your shift go? Make good money?” I ask with a wide smile.

  “Always,” he tells me, resting his head in his hand and watching me as I open the pizza box.

  “How many numbers did you get?” I ask inconspicuously. That panty-dropping smile spreads across his face again.

  “Is that something a friend should ask?” he teases me.

  “I think so. When me and my friends go out we always ask each other that.” It’s not a lie, we did at high school parties.

  “A few,” he admits resting his weight on the island.

  “Was that so hard?” I ask him teasingly. I stand on my tiptoes and open the kitchen cabinet and reach for the pan.

  “What are you doing?” he laughs. I roll my eyes at him. He stands and I wait for him to come help me but instead he stands behind me. His hard body leans on mine and I can feel him, his long torso and hard chest. I have to let out a small breath to keep my sanity and not do something stupid like press my ass against him…but it doesn’t help and I do it anyway. I hear him gasp.

  “Here,” he says, his voice husky, arms in front of me. I take it from him and push him a little bit. I focus my attention on putting the pizza in the oven so I can blame the heat for my face turning red.

  “What about you, how many old rich dudes have left you business cards?”

  “I don’t know, I throw them all out,” I answer as I close the oven.

  “Do you throw all your numbers out?” I counter, having to face him.

  “Should I?” he asks, challenging me.

  “You’re single. I was curious if anyone interests you,” I say as I hop up on the island.

  “There is one person.” His eyes lock on mine, and I try not to read into it.

  “That’s nice,” I say, my voice wobbly.

  “What do you like about her?”

  “Well, she’s fucking stunning for one.” If he isn’t talking about me this will be an epic fail.

  “She has these amazing eyes that pulled me in the first time she laid them on me. Took my breath away.” I’m completely still now.

  “She’s funny, and smart, and she wears these crazy hair styles, but it works for her.”

  I try to hold in my laugh.

  “And she’s stubborn as hell. She just wants to be friends though.” His voice is even and his expression soft when he says this.

  “Maybe she has a good reason.” I glue my eyes to the floor and I wonder—when did I become this person? Someone afraid to look a guy I like in the eyes. Did Jackson screw me up this bad?

  “I get it, she’s been hurt,” he replies, his voice soft and warm.

  “She’s hurt people too…” I respond, my voice only above a whisper.

  “Everybody makes mistakes,” he says quietly. I wish I didn’t have my hair braided so I could hide beneath it. He’s so close now, my knees are touching his thighs. I’m glad I’m sitting or my knees would be weak.

  “But if I don’t kiss her right now, I think it’ll be one of the biggest mistakes of my life.”

  I look up at him, and my last bit of resolve has melted and that’s all the permission he needs. He spreads my thighs apart and pulls me towards him. Our lips meet and his tongue makes its way inside of my mouth. But it’s not enough. He’s so warm and hard. His hands slip beneath my hoodie making my body tingle. He lifts himself on the island, climbing on top of me. Our mouths don’t disconnect for a second. My thoughts are only on him and no one else, and I want him to erase every memory that’s held my thoughts hostage.

  “Mads…”

  Shit!

  When his body lifts from mine so does his lips. I see Parker and Brad frozen in place. Parker looks both amused and shocked at the same time, and Brad’s gaze is on the floor.

  “Uh...hi!” I say, pushing Alex’s body completely off mine.

  “Don’t stop on our account, we’ll just cover o
ur eyes and skip off to my room,” Parker says, putting a hand over her eyes and Brad’s, but leaves room to peek. I’m off the island and straighten my clothes while trying to regain some type of dignity while Alex removes a piece of plastic stuck to my butt.

  “We were making pizza,” I say lamely. Their eyes are uncovered now and Parker turns to Alex.

  “I’m Parker,” she says extending her hand with a giddy smile on her face.

  “Alex,” he says, letting out a breath and releasing a warm smile.

  “It’s so nice to finally meet you!” My eyes shoot daggers at her. She’s embarrassing me more than this situation calls for.

  “Alex this is my best friend and her boyfriend, Brad,” I tell him and they shake hands.

  “Um, Madison…not boyfriend,” she says coolly and puts up her hand, wiggling her fingers to show a huge ring with an even bigger smile on her face.

  “Oh my God!” I squeal, shocked.

  “I know!” she screeches.

  “Congratulations!” I shout and hug her and we jump and squeal together. I notice Alex shakes Brad’s hand. I give Brad a hug.

  “This is amazing!” I say to Parker.

  “I know!” She’s so happy she could burst.

  “Congratulations,” Alex tells her and she gushes thanks.

  “Um, I’m gonna go,” Alex tells me with a sexy smile. I want to stop him but I don’t know what to say to him, and I know Parker wants to give me all the details.

  “Okay,” I say.

  “No, you don’t have to go. Have a drink with us!” she says to him, her face crestfallen. He looks at me for confirmation.

  “You can’t say no to a newly engaged woman,” I say, letting out a short breath. Brad pulls out a bottle of champagne and Parker gets glasses for us.

  “To letting go of the past and moving forward, and to fantastically wonderful opportunities,” Parker proclaims, her eyes landing on me a second before she smiles lovingly at Brad.

  After we drink champagne and continue to commiserate, Alex says he has to get home.

  “It was so nice to meet you,” Parker says giving him one of her big million-dollar smiles.

  “It was good to meet you too. I’m sorry about the circumstances,” he mutters charmingly.

  “I’m sure that wasn’t your fault.” She eyes me pointedly.