by Gia Riley
“Thank you, Aunt Judy. Can I call you that?”
“It’s my name,” she says. “And I have a feeling I’ll be seeing a lot more of you.”
I’d like that. “Maybe I can come back sometime soon,” I tell her. “I have to get going, or I’ll be late for work.”
Wirth checks his watch and agrees. “We can share a cab.”
“You’re going to work?” I question.
“Yes,” he says with a smile. “I do that from time to time.”
Knowing Wirth will be in the theater today is the comfort I’ve needed.
But I have to get across the porch first, and that makes me nervous. “Did Shannon leave?”
Aunt Judy nods. “I told her I’d call the cops if she didn’t get her bony ass off my property.”
I’m glad Aunt Judy is here. If she hadn’t been, there’s no telling how this might have ended. I’d probably still have been running across town to the theater. And Wirth would probably still have been on the porch, dealing with Shannon. He’d have missed another day of work, and I’d have tried to dance the pain out of my system—again. But it wouldn’t have worked.
Wirth slips on his shoes and grabs my dance bag off the floor. He slings it over his shoulder and then notices the bag from the bagel shop.
“I’m starving,” he says. “We’ll eat this on the way.”
His words are further confirmation that Shannon was lying and that we’re okay.
Wirth
Chandler’s sitting as close to the cab door and as far away from me as she can possibly get.
Reaching over, I grab her leg and slide her next to me. She giggles until I run my hand up her thigh. Then, she shivers, and I know we’re both remembering what happened last night.
“Cold?” I question.
“No,” she says. “Afraid to get too close.”
Okay, maybe she’s not thinking about last night.
“I thought you believed me, Chan. Everything I told you about Shannon was true. You have my word that today was the last time we’ll ever have contact.”
The two seconds she takes to respond are brutally painful.
“I do believe you, Wirth. I’m just scared.”
“What are you afraid of?”
She shrugs.
That’s not an answer. It’s her way of avoiding saying something that might hurt me.
“Don’t do that, Chandler. Tell me the truth.”
Finally, she says, “It’s just that, every time it gets good with us, something bad happens. It’s like the universe doesn’t want us to be together.”
That’s where she’s wrong.
“If the universe didn’t want us together, do you really think we’d have ended up next to each other on that plane? Or as roommates?”
Shaking her head, she says, “No. But it shouldn’t be this hard.”
She’s right. It shouldn’t be. But, for some reason, we’ve had obstacle after obstacle to overcome.
I’m done running though. If I’ve learned anything while staying at Aunt Judy’s, it’s that I want to be with Chandler. No amount of time apart will change that.
“I want you in my bed tonight, Chandler.”
She nods but says nothing. And, now, I’m the one who’s afraid.
“What are you thinking?” I ask.
“Nothing.”
“Chandler,” I warn.
Sighing, she says, “I like being with you, Wirth. But I guess I want more than just sex.”
God, I’m screwing this all up.
“I didn’t mean sex.”
“Then, what did you mean?”
“That I’m coming home. No more staying at Aunt Judy’s.”
If I wasn’t looking, I’d have missed the smile on her face because it doesn’t stick around long. Her happiness quickly morphs into concern again.
“Don’t come home unless you’re ready, Wirth. I don’t want you to feel pressured. You can take as long as you need to get your head on straight. I’m not Shannon.”
She’s damn right about that. Chandler’s nothing like Shannon. If she were, I wouldn’t want her.
“I appreciate you saying that, but I don’t need more time. As far as I’m concerned, last night was the end of that chapter of my life. I’m leaving the past in the past, where it belongs. Because I want to be at the apartment with you again.”
“You’re not mad about Hollis anymore?”
“No. The past is in the past,” I remind her.
“So, last night was real then?”
I hate that she has doubts about our first time together. We should be able to look back on last night without questions.
Grabbing her hand, I hold on tight. She laces her fingers with mine, and that’s when I realize I’ll put a ring on her hand someday. It’s a huge leap—one of the craziest thoughts I’ve ever had—but she’s Chandler. She’s everything I’ve wanted but never had.
“Chan, last night was the best night of my life.”
She watches as I rub my thumb back and forth over the top of her hand.
And then she says, “You can’t mean that, Wirth. You lived in Nashville. You almost had a record deal.”
“Listen to what you said,” I tell her. “Almost. I’ve been close to a lot of things, things that should have made me crazy happy. But they didn’t. I’ve never felt this. You’re not a maybe or an almost or even a possibility.”
“What am I then?”
“You’re my sure thing. A definite.”
She blinks a couple of times, like she can’t believe I just said that. Hell, I probably wouldn’t have a few days ago, but lately, life seems to change every time I close my eyes.
I have no clue where I’ll be tomorrow, let alone a month from now. But I know I’ll want Chandler with me, no matter what I’m doing.
“Wow,” she whispers. “That’s deep for a dude.”
Laughing, I tell her, “I finally have my shit together. I’m sorry it took me so long.”
When she doesn’t respond right away, I panic that she doesn’t feel the same way I feel, that I’ve put her through too much and made her doubt me in the process.
“Chandler?”
“It’s Chan,” she says with a smile.
That one smile of hers chases away my doubt.
“Look at me.”
She turns her head, and those blue eyes of hers almost make me miss another rehearsal. Because, if it were up to me, I’d take her home, and we wouldn’t get out of bed until morning.
But Chandler has a full day of dancing ahead of her, and I have a lot to learn in a short amount of time. If I plan on being behind the soundboard on opening night, watching Chandler dance, then I need to be at work today.
We only have a few minutes to spare when the cab finally pulls in front of the theater. I quickly pay the fare and then help her out of the cab.
Before we go inside, I take one last look at her.
“What?” she questions. “Do I have something on my face?”
“Just the prettiest blue eyes I’ve ever seen.”
“I know,” she says. “You wrote a song about them.”
I figured she knew that one was about her. How could she not? I looked at her the entire time I sang.
“Enzo, the manager of The Pour House, wants me to play again this weekend.”
“Really?” she says with so much excitement that it’s contagious.
“Yeah. I told him I’d do it. And I’d like you to be there.”
She grabs my hand and leads me inside. Just before we part ways, she says, “Does this make me your groupie?”
I can tell she’s hoping I say yes, so I pull her toward me. Once she’s close enough, I lean down and whisper in her ear, “Only if I can get you naked afterward. I’ve always wanted to bang a smoking-hot groupie.”
Her eyes are as wide as can be when she backs away from me. She takes a quick look around to make sure nobody overheard. When she’s satisfied that nobody did, she points her finger at me an
d says, “Go to work.”
I laugh because she blushes so easily. But I can tell she’s down for that plan.
Chandler
“What’d you do to him?” Hollis asks as he burps in my face.
I still can’t figure out how I ever kissed him. Because, as I smack him in the back of his head for being gross, he feels like my annoying big brother.
“Do you act like this around Maisie?”
“Hell no,” he says. “I have manners around the ladies.”
“And what am I?”
He shrugs. “I guess you’re one of the guys now.”
“Lucky me. Anyway, what did I do to whom?”
Laughing, he says, “Listen to you. All proper and shit. What did you do to Wirth?”
I think back to our conversation on the sidewalk. My face flames crimson, and I have to look away from Hollis.
But Hollis doesn’t let me get more than a step away before he grabs my arm and spins me around. “Oh no,” he says. “Spill it. What happened?”
“I don’t know what you mean,” I tell him. “What’s wrong with Wirth? He seemed fine to me.”
“Yeah, exactly. He’s acting normal. He was even nice to me.”
“Because you’re his best friend, Hollis.”
He gives me a knowing look. One that says, Did you forget we made out in the kitchen?
No, I haven’t. Because that kiss almost made me lose Wirth.
“And?” he says.
“And nothing. Things are good. Can we please just leave well enough alone?”
Hollis stops dead in his tracks just as Isla darts from the stage, across the hall, and into the restroom. He’s so easily distracted.
“What are we looking at?” I question.
“Shh,” he whispers with his finger to his mouth.
There’s no way Isla can hear us. She’s on the other side of a metal door.
When he’s sure she’s not coming out of the restroom, he leans in and says, “I overheard Isla talking at lunch. She’s debating on getting her boobs done. Which makes no sense to me. Dancers are supposed to have little boobs.”
I’m almost afraid to ask, but I have to. Mostly because I’m a dancer, and my boobs are somewhere between small and medium. “Why are dancers supposed to have little boobs?”
Looking at me like I’m nuts, he says, “Because you’ll end up with two black eyes if they’re flopping around.”
That’s a visual I didn’t need.
“That’s a myth, Hollis. They won’t actually give you black eyes, no matter how big they are. Gravity wouldn’t allow it.”
“So, now, you’re a mad scientist instead of a dancer?”
“No. I sucked at science, but that doesn’t matter. Who cares if she wants bigger boobs? I considered it myself this morning.”
He laughs like that’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever said. “Now, I know you’re screwing with me. You have a nice set, Chandler. Don’t go destroying a good thing.”
I think back to the kiss in the kitchen and whether or not Hollis felt me up. But I can’t remember. “How would you know that?” I ask him.
“I’m just a good judge of character.”
“My boobs don’t have character.”
“Trust me; your boobs have tons of appeal. Plus, I’ve checked you out in your leotard.”
This has to be one of the strangest conversations I’ve ever had, but that’s how it usually goes with Hollis. We have this weird friendship that leaves nothing off-limits.
But, when Wirth appears out of nowhere, I realize we might have to create some boundaries.
Before I can apologize, Wirth looks at Hollis and says, “Would you like to rephrase that last statement?”
Hollis says, “Not a chance. I’ll see you both tonight,” and then he takes off toward the exit.
Maisie’s leaving tonight, and Hollis isn’t the least bit happy about it. He tried talking her into quitting, but she loves being a flight attendant. She wouldn’t be Maisie if she wasn’t flying around the world, making new friends everywhere she goes. I’m hoping Hollis can learn to accept that; otherwise, they’ll never work.
“What’s tonight?” Wirth questions, confused.
“Your sister’s going-away dinner at the apartment.”
“Shit,” he says. “I totally forgot she was leaving in the morning.”
I kind of liked having her around. It was nice, knowing she was on my side when it came to her brother. Without her help, who knows where Wirth and I’d be right now?
“She’ll be back soon though, right?”
Wirth nods but doesn’t say much else. Assuming he’s upset with Hollis again, I reach for his hand, hoping to smooth things over before tonight.
He lets me grab it but still won’t look at me.
“Hollis was just being funny, Wirth. There’s nothing between us. I promise.”
“I know,” he says.
“Then, what’s wrong? Are you jealous of our friendship or something?”
I’m just joking around, but when Wirth scoffs, I realize I hit the nail on the head.
“I’m not jealous of Hollis, Chandler.”
He is. He’s just not admitting it.
“You can ask me what we were talking about. I’ll tell you.”
“Fine. What were you talking about?”
“It started out with Isla’s boobs.”
Wirth shakes his head. “Nope. You can stop right there. I’m good.”
Laughing, I tell him, “I told you it wasn’t what you thought.”
“As long as it wasn’t your boobs,” he says.
I could redirect the conversation someplace else. Wirth wouldn’t ever have to know that Hollis was not only talking about my chest, but that he also admitted to checking me out. But that would be wrong. I need to be honest.
“It was partly about my chest,” I confess. “I told him I debated on getting a boob job.”
“What for?” he says, shocked.
“For you.”
“Me? Chandler, if I ever gave you the impression that your boobs were too small, I apologize.”
“You didn’t. It was just a random thought I had this morning. I guess you had to be there.”
Wirth pushes his way through the front door, and once we’re outside, he picks me up and tosses me over his shoulder. For the second time today, I’m staring at blackened globs of gum on a New York City sidewalk.
“Why do you keep doing this? Put me down!”
“I’m proving a point,” he says.
“What point?” I yell as I pound my fists against his butt. His incredibly nice butt that flexes with each step he takes. Clearly, Hollis isn’t the only one who’s easily distracted.
Wirth sets me back on my feet, and though he’s waiting for me to say something, I have no idea what he even asked me.
“Chandler?”
“Huh?”
“Let’s go home,” he says with a laugh. “You’re out of it.”
No kidding.
“I’m sorry. I zoned out. What point were you making?”
“You’ll see,” he says. “Tonight. Maybe it’ll teach you to pay attention.”
He’s not at all upset. I know because he winks at me. And that one gesture fills my entire stomach with butterflies. I have no idea what he plans on doing to me, but I think I’m going to enjoy finding out.
Chandler
“Be quiet!” I tell Wirth for the third time.
We’ve been hiding behind the island in the kitchen for ten minutes. Ten very long, sexually frustrating minutes. When he’s not grabbing my butt, he’s trying to grab something else.
“Chan, I thought you said they were on their way?”
“They are,” I tell him.
Hollis texted almost twenty minutes ago that he was on his way with Maisie. Knowing them, they got distracted, leaving the restaurant. I can’t be mad though. Hollis wanted to make Maisie’s last night in town special. After all, that’s why we’re hiding—to surprise
her with a little going-away party.
“I don’t get why we have to hide. We live here.”
“Because this is what you do when you’re trying to surprise someone. You hide. And you stay quiet, Wirth!”
Sighing, he bangs his head against the cabinets. “Your butt’s two inches from my hands, babe. I’m trying my best, but I only have so much restraint.”
I’m hanging on by a thread, too. My legs are starting to cramp from squatting, and I swear, if Wirth touches me one more time, I’ll end up straddling him on the tiled floor.
Just before I crumble, the door to the apartment opens, and I breathe a sigh of relief.
“Get ready,” I whisper.
“I’ve been ready for an hour,” he grumbles.
But he shuts up fast when a familiar voice is met with an unexpected giggle.
We look at each other at the same time, wondering what’s going on. Wirth peers over the granite countertop in total stealth mode.
Now, he wants to play by the rules.
“Well, this is interesting,” he says as he crouches back down next to me.
“What’s happening? That sounds like Fisher and Isla.”
“That’s because it is.”
Fisher never knocks. He just walks in whenever he comes over. But he never hangs out with Isla.
Maybe Fisher ran into Isla when he left his place and walked across the hall to ours. Surely, there’s an explanation. But, right now, neither of us has one.
There’s more giggling from Isla, and I can’t take it. I take a quick peek at our guests and then duck back down, banging heads with Wirth in the process.
In a heap on the floor, he slips his hands underneath my sweater, not caring how much our heads are hurting.
“Stop it, Wirth.”
“Or what?” he challenges. “What are you gonna do, Chan?”
Everything I want involves us being naked. Wirth knows it, too; that’s why his evil smirk grows.
He pulls me closer, and just as we’re about to kiss, Fisher says, “I guess we’re all alone.”
No. No, you’re not.
“They leave the door unlocked when they’re not home?” Isla questions. “I’ll have to talk to Wirth about that.”
I roll my eyes so hard that I think my eyeballs do a full three-hundred-and-sixty-degree flip. Wirth catches my reaction and can barely hold his laughter in.