Lost in LA

by Amy Craig

  He cradled her hips and dipped his head to press a kiss against her neck. “You’re still thinking too much.”

  Wylie laughed. “It’s called self-preservation. I’m too smart to jump in head-first and trust I’ll never run out of air.”

  He slid his hand up to cup her ass and press her more firmly against him.

  She closed her eyes, feeling the heat of his touch and wondering what it would mean to go all in. Last night’s bravado and excitement paled against the intensity of Nolan’s attention.

  His hand stilled and his thumb rested in the small dip of her hipbone. “You’re just getting started.”

  “I’ve still got plenty to lose.”

  He raised his eyebrows as she stepped away, crossed her hands in front of her chest and removed her athletic top. Freed from the shirt’s built-in restraints, her nipples hardened in the evening air, and Nolan took a visibly deep breath. She smiled as she shimmed out of her pants and stood before him, proud of the naked desire reflected in his eyes.

  Then he took a deep breath. “Why do I get the feeling I’m the one putting everything on the line?”

  Wylie traced the ripple of his abs. “Why should either of us feel like we’ve got something to lose?” Before he could answer, she turned toward the pool and dove into the water. Breaking the surface, she blinked to clear her eyes and found him standing on the decking, backlit by the gorgeous house.

  He picked up her wine glass and walked to the edge of the water, handing the glass to her. “Tell me about your day.”

  She stood in the water and took a sip. “Stalling?”

  He shook his head and sat on the edge of the decking, a defined erection proclaiming his interest despite his continued absence from the pool. “No, just admiring the view.”

  The promise in Nolan’s gaze allowed her to relax in the heated water and trust him to do just as he had promised. “I had a job interview, but I had to admit to the hiring manager that the instructor running my accreditation class had just closed her studio.”

  “Cynthia.”

  She nodded and saved her string of expletives for another time. “I don’t know what happened. Her announcement email bordered on terse and defensive.”

  “What do you want out of life?”

  Health insurance? A warm bed? None of the answers seemed worthy of the question. She looked toward the edge of the pool and imagined life running ahead of her like a well-rehearsed soap opera. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “I feel like I’ve never gotten started. I know the ending point—a house, some kids—but I have no idea how to get there.”

  He sipped his wine. “That’s it?”

  She nodded, letting the water absorb the weight of the question until her hair floated around her like a darkened halo. “It never occurred to me to dream of franchises and doing something that big.”

  “Sometimes ‘big’ is a penance.”

  She laughed and leaned back. “Tell me all your sins.”

  He abandoned his seat and walked toward her. “I spent too much time living in the moment.”

  She stood and smoothed back her hair, determined to meet him head on. “Living in the moment can be very rewarding.” She swam closer to Nolan and rose from the shallow end. “The ending point seems inconsequential when we’re both naked in the water.”

  He laughed and reached for her. “So you noticed that fact?”

  She stepped forward until the heat of his arousal pushed against her stomach, as undeniable and present as the heavy air between them. “And what do you want?”

  “Resolution.” He grabbed her wrist and turned to kiss it. “The satisfaction of knowing I’m doing something good with the resources I have.”

  She shifted her hips and wondered what would happen if she abandoned the tension of the moment and climbed into his arms. “And what do you have?”

  “Right now?” She nodded. “A beautiful and willing woman.”

  “You think I’m beautiful?”

  He rolled his eyes and exhaled. “You’re impetuous and fragile, loyal and determined.”

  “I’m not sure those were compliments.” Doubt crept in and she pulled away.

  He shook his head and drew her close once again. “You’re living in the moment and it’s beautiful, even if it gets you into trouble now and again.”

  “You don’t feel like trouble,” she whispered.

  He lowered his head and captured her lips, his heat and spice covering the memory of apple-scented wine. He tore his lips from hers. “Tell me you’d be here with me in another place and time,” he whispered. “Tell me your eyes would still fill with desire if we were standing in the middle of Oklahoma in an above-ground pool.”

  She laughed and pulled his head down until she could return his kiss. “That’s not fair. I’d tell you anything right now.”

  “This commune has its perks?”

  She unwound her arms and pulled him toward the edge of the infinity pool. When he resisted, she slipped behind him, winding her arms around his waist and pressing a kiss against the defined muscles of his back. “Look at the city, Nolan. You can spend your days lost in the details or wake up every morning and be thankful for the sun.”

  He inhaled when she slipped her hand beneath the waterline and stroked his thigh, teasingly close to where she wanted to land. He turned and looked at her. “You are an unusual woman.”

  “Me?” she laughed. “I’m a beachfront yoga instructor. I’m a dime a dozen in this town.”

  “Wylie…” he began.

  She replaced his view with her body, wrapped her hand around his cock and stroked his length until he took a deep breath, his eyes darkening as his pupils expanded and told him she had found her mark. “You’re loyal.”

  She shifted her hips and tilted her head, softly biting him below the line of his collar and using her teeth to tug his skin as she worked his length. “I believe in better things when I’m with you.”

  He stiffened. “Like what?”

  “Like more than a glimpse of satisfaction.”

  “If you keep stroking me like that, I’m going to need more than a minute to recover before you get your satisfaction.” He cupped her face and claimed a kiss.

  Her hand stilled and her attention faltered.

  Pulling back, he grinned. “Right now you seem like the best thing I have going.”

  She smiled and looked at their reflections in the rippling water of the pool. “Better than pouring wine down my chest and tasting my nipples? Carry me to that lounge chair and let’s do more than toast my shitty day.”

  He picked her up and she wrapped her legs around his waist. “I’m sorry your day went to hell.”

  “Don’t worry about it.”

  He walked back to the decking, hitching her legs higher when she started to slip.

  She tightened her muscles and gave thanks for every second of yoga that had toned her muscles and taught her how to hold a pose. “Worry about how I’m going to make you yell loud enough to wake the Abramowitzes.”

  His laughter kept the mood light between them. “I’m sure they won’t mind.”

  She rubbed her chest against his and smiled when he groaned. “And do you mind?”

  “Mind what?” He sank onto a chaise and settled her on his lap.

  “Blurring the line between convenience and attraction.”

  He reached for the bottle of white wine and raised his eyebrows. When she arched her back, he filled the dip of her collarbone with cold white wine and they both watched the honeyed liquid overflow and trace the proud lines of her curves. She gasped at the contrast of his heat and the crisp liquid until he leaned forward and licked the trail, lingering to kiss her breast and draw her nipple between his lips. “The sweetest thing I’ve ever tasted,” he whispered when their eyes met. “Don’t doubt for a second that the attraction is real.”

  She leaned forward, desperate to push that attraction to its limits, but reality refused to release its final hold. “Nolan, do you have an
y protection?” He reached for his shorts and removed a condom, handing it to her like a final challenge. “Just one?”

  He laughed. “I have plenty in my bedroom, but I don’t want to risk putting on a show when the roommates get home.”

  The reminder of shared space pushed her to action. “I don’t care whose bottom line gets the benefit of our rent. Right now, I’m happy to play along, and the only thing I want to feel is you inside me, my clit pressed against your fingers until I come.”

  “Wylie,” he said, but she rolled the condom over his length and raised her eyebrows. “You want this?”

  She raked her gaze over his naked, wet form. “Right now, I want everything on the menu.” She straddled him and watched his eyes close in pleasure as she lowered her heat over his length. “Touch me, Nolan. Hold my hips while I rock against you and push us both over the edge.”

  He reached for her and she flexed her hips, feeling the pleasure of his presence deep inside her core. She shifted, picking up the pace until he met her thrust for thrust, their bodies rising together and falling until she began to moan and he pulled her close, slipping a hand between them to find her sensitive spot, his thrusts matching hers as she gripped his shoulders and set the pace until her world came undone in waves of rippling pleasure.

  “Fuck me,” he yelled, finding his release and tightening his hold on her hips as he rocked into her core.

  Their breaths slowed and she dropped her forehead to his skin. “I’m trying.”

  “Trying what?” he asked.

  She laughed, loving the way her thoughts scattered while their bodies remained connected. When she felt the wind against her skin, she disengaged so he could deal with the condom and the mess of their coupling. “You’re the best roommate I’ve ever had.”

  “That’s not saying much.”

  She smiled as memories of Dottie crept into her consciousness. Keep it easy. I slept in my SUV because I thought I needed to control the lease. He’s not asking for anything but a little trust. She searched for solid footing beneath the chaise, then rose and stretched, ignoring the doubt creeping through her consciousness. What if I folded too soon?

  His gaze remained fixed on her body.

  Shaking her head, she inhaled, determined to hold on to the afterglow of her desire. “Well, given the alternatives, I can’t imagine living alone ever again.”

  Nolan looked up and blinked. “I don’t make a habit of getting naked with the people staying in this house.”

  The words hung between them. Staying, not living. Not permanent. She reached for her shirt. “Good. I’m feeling very territorial about our fake relationship. I didn’t read the lease line for line, but I’m pleased with the fringe benefits.”

  He exhaled and looked toward the soft glow of the ocean shimmering beyond the hills. “I wasn’t waiting for a fuck buddy. I was waiting for you, Wylie.”

  Stop looking at him like any of this is real, she told herself. I haven’t earned comfort and independence. This life is just make-believe until I go back to being myself. She scanned the contemporary home and thought of the small room filled with the clothes and duffel bags that had transported her life from one pit stop to the next. She looked down and tried not to let the long lines of his body mean more than the quiet implications of his statement. “What did you expect when you opened that bottle of wine?”

  “I don’t know,” he admitted. “It’s hard to separate goals and desire when there’s a beautiful naked woman in the pool.”

  She laughed, doing her best to center their confessions on common ground and preserve the possibility of a repeat performance. “What about when you find one in your bed?”

  “Is it you?”

  I want it to be me. She smiled as the sound of the garage door opening broke their moment of isolation. “Rikard’s home.”

  He stood up. “I’m not sharing.”

  Laughing, she picked up a wine glass and finished the contents, hoping it would give her the courage to test the limits of what she had started and already feared to lose. “My place or yours?”

  He eyed the third-floor windows. “Mine.”

  Chapter Eleven

  The next morning, Wylie opened her eyes and watched Nolan sleep, looking at his eyelashes for much longer than necessary. His short brown hair and neat fade matched the hip street aesthetic of his food truck, but those eyelashes teased his skin like feathery crescent moons. She wanted to trace the line of his cheekbone and find the hidden strength behind his beard.

  He opened his eyes and blinked, focusing on her. “Good morning, gorgeous.”

  She kept her head on the soft white pillow, content to let him wake up before she assaulted him with her demands for morning sex. When he smiled, she propped her head on her hand and passed the threshold between sated comfort and stated intent. He opened his lips to hers and wrapped an arm around her, pulling her onto the heat of his blanket-wrapped chest. “Good morning to you, too.” She glanced toward the connected bathroom, wondering if they could multi-task.

  He tightened his hold. “Where are you going?”

  “To teach a beachside yoga class—every other day, rain or shine.”

  He frowned. “You can’t teach yoga in the rain.”

  “No, but I usually huddle up with my customers at the nearby café and sip coffee while they indulge in the benefits of maintaining a community.”

  “They don’t include you?”

  She shrugged and sat up, savoring the soreness in her limbs but content to discuss the reality of her coming day. “I mean, they pay me, but I wouldn’t consider them friends. We share coffee, but no one has ever suggested eating at the farmer’s market or grabbing a cocktail. Why would they? We come from different worlds. You must see some of that at the food truck. There’s always a line between the customer and the vendor.”

  He shook his head and reached for her. “I’m interested in blurring that line.”

  She scrambled from the bed and laughed. “Mini Mako already has plans. Got to make the money to pay the rent.”

  He threw back the covers. “But that sounds lonely. Shouldn’t you enjoy what you do?”

  They stood on opposite sides of the bed, each naked and ready for each other. Wylie shrugged. “I enjoy the people. Most people respond to that warmth and treat me well.”

  “Except Dottie.”

  “Maybe that says more about her than it says about me.”

  “Maybe there wasn’t much there.”

  She wondered if Dottie had revealed her candy stash to her cousin or kept it ferreted away. I found more satisfaction from savoring Nolan than treating him like something I couldn’t have. “Her loss. It is what it is.”

  * * * *

  Fifteen people showed up at the class time and unfurled their beach towels beneath a cloudless blue sky. Wylie walked between them, greeting the regulars and taking time to connect with the new faces in the crowd. Will they stay and make this a regular habit or fade into the anonymity of one-hit wonders? The regulars greeted each other like old friends and Wylie cleared her throat as she began to lead the class. “Namaste.”

  For the next hour and a half, the group followed her instructions and Price Ross remained upright, grinning through the most complicated poses. At the end of the session, she smiled and headed straight toward him. “I met some of your clients. Patty and John Abramowitz. They spoke very highly of you.”

  “Oh, yeah?” he asked. “How did you put two and two together?”

  Wylie smiled. “They were guests in the house where I live.”

  Price raised his eyebrows.

  She searched for a way to clarify her statement. “I mean,” she said, debating how far the relationship lie had to travel to give Nolan a chance of getting the kitchen, “my boyfriend’s house. He already knew them. They’re neighbors.” She added the last-ditch comment to come off as genuine, but now it sounded lame.

  “I’ve known the Abramowitzes for a long time. They were some of my first clients.”<
br />
  She smiled. “It can be a small town.”

  “So who’s your boyfriend?”

  The man who showed up shirtless and watched you fall on your ass? She swallowed, struggling to remember Nolan’s last name. The commune’s lease had listed everyone’s identity, but she had focused on the clauses most likely to give her regrets. I remember the ‘W’. Wylie Winidad and—she smiled—“Nolan Wilson.”

  Piece’s eyebrows rose. “Their families go way back.”

  “Well, it’s new construction, so I guess they tipped him off when it came up for rent.” She blinked in the sunlight and ignored the ups and downs of the forty-eight hours she had logged in the contemporary house. “It must be nice to come back to that kind of continuity when you’ve been gone for years.”

  Price looked at her, his mouth opening then closing. He finally shook the sand from his beach towel, reached for his personal belongings and pulled a business card from his leather wallet. “Like you said, it can be a small town. Give me a call if you ever need my services.”

  She thought about Price bungling the Abramowitzes’ property taxes and smiled. “I normally skate by with online software. I imagine they’re making decisions on a whole other scale.”

  “Things can change,” he said. “If you’re lucky, that software won’t be enough.”

  “What?”

  The man saluted her. “Have a good day.”

  Wylie remained in the middle of the sand while the crowd encroached on the space formerly occupied by her class. Things can change. Nolan can expand his truck into franchises. I can find a way to finish my accreditation, and—she stopped and stared at the ocean—it can all disappear in a moment.

  The house in the hills felt so far removed from the beginning of the week that she wondered how long the pleasures would last. She looked north toward tower eight and thought of Penny Lane. Nobody wants to feel obligated to the needy, but don’t we all need someone? Life streamed through the lush oceanside park, but she walked to clear her head. Her calves ached and she stopped to stare at the scrubby hills on the other side of the Pacific Coast Highway. People live there, and I don’t want to live among them. I need health insurance. I need to finish my accreditation. Narrowing her gaze, she followed the hint of a trail winding through the distant bushes. I need to call Cynthia and give her a piece of my mind for dumping us on our asses. Nobody should treat other people like she did.