by J P Books
When Alexa comes back into the room, I’m playing it cool as a cucumber.
“So, you must have called your family. They’re not worried about you staying with some strange guy?” I temper the question with a wink and a grin, trying not to make it sound like I’m interrogating or threatening her. To take the pressure off, I don’t look at her, but instead, busy myself crunching carrot sticks loudly as if the question didn’t really matter and was just small talk.
I stay silent though, waiting for her to answer. I can feel Adam listening from the kitchen as well.
“Um, well, Adam offered his phone, of course, but no one was expecting to hear from me for a few days so I figured it’d just worry them if I called.” I can see her shrug out of the corner of my eye and nod my head as if that makes perfect sense.
Before I could think of another way to feel out her situation, Adam announces dinner is ready. She smiles at him warmly and gets up to meet him in the kitchen. The three of us fill our plates with pasta and return to eat casually in the living room, with our full glasses of wine.
I decide to give up the questioning for now, and Adam and I sink into our usual routine of storytelling and goofing off. Alexa relaxes too and listening to her laugh spreads a warm feeling through my body that has nothing to do with the wine. It’s nice to see the change, from a nervous, suspicious young girl to a funny, confident young woman.
I watch her and Adam and can tell that they’ve definitely developed some sort of bond over the few hours of the afternoon. The way she looks at him is comfortable as if seeing them lying together spooning on the couch watching a cheesy rom-com would be just as natural as seeing them at opposite ends of the couch, not touching at all.
At one point, the conversation comes around to her first ever bike ride. She admits to being terrified at first. Adam does an impression of her, coming over to straddle the arm of the chair I’m sitting on. He’s hilarious, acting like a nun or something and then gyrating against me and throwing his head back into the wind as he imitates the rumble of the engine.
We’re all in fits of laughter, but I don’t miss the look in her eye as she watches him mockingly run his hands over my chest as he “holds on tight.” Those eyes linger on my body and there’s no mistaking why.
My jeans get a little tighter as I remember her hands – which didn’t feel at all like Adam’s comic groping.
I’m not quite sure what to make of her. I can’t decide if I’m into her for her, or if I really am perverting my savior complex as Adam would say.
None of that even matters because I can’t figure out if she’s into me, or Adam. It could go either way.
As we calm down, starting to really feel the effects of the wine, I try once more to find out more about her.
“It’s pretty awesome that you get to take time off during the summer. Making our own hours is one of the main reasons Adam and I went into business for ourselves. What was it you said you do?” I’m hoping that spending an entire day with us will finally make her feel comfortable enough to give us the tiniest glimpse into her life.
She immediately sobers and takes her time answering. Purposefully meeting my eyes, she makes a decision.
“Actually, I work for myself too,” she says. “Well, sort of. I mean really I work for clients, but I get to choose who those clients are. I’m a freelance graphic designer.”
That shuts both of us up and we just stare at her. Her eyes widen in the silence, and her nerves clearly start to come back, making her regret telling us anything at all.
Trying to save the situation, I blurt out, “You’ve got to be kidding me. You’re a graphic designer? What kind of work do you do?” I’m way too interested but this is just too perfect.
Obviously, I’m too excited and she’s suspicious all over again though.
“Sorry,” I backtrack, holding up my hands. “It’s just that Adam and I have been searching for a graphic designer for ages and now it feels a little bit like you were dropped out of the sky for us.”
“Parker has a bad habit of getting prematurely excited,” he throws a jab at me, which I can’t deny.
“We were on our way back from LA after meeting with a fucking useless designer when we met you.” Speaking slowly and calmly, he tells her about our business idea. He gives enough detail to prove to her that we’re not trying to con her in some way but doesn’t heap pressure on her to be a godsend like I did.
This is why she looks at him so adoringly. I can’t blame her. I make myself cringe sometimes, but it’s just me. It’s not going to change. At least she likes my abs.
I can see a spark showing up in her face as Adam keeps talking about our future business. Fuck, I feel the spark inside me – he makes it sound so real.
“That sounds incredible guys,” she says when Adam finally stops talking. “I’ve always loved branding the most, even though I’m usually hired to do boring brochures or websites. I always have a sketchbook with me because I love imagining how I would design a brand to fit inside a random space.”
She hesitates for a minute and then asks, “Do you want to see some of my sketches?”
Even Adam can’t stop himself from showing his excitement now, and she hurries out of the room to grab her sketchbook out of her purse.
My eyes bulge out in silent communication to Adam, and his face is a reflection of barely contained wonder. Is this girl with no back story going to show us the imagination we’ve been searching for, or are we going to have to figure out how to pull ourselves out of the hope hole we’ve dug for her?
She comes back, looking nervous. She sits in the middle of the couch and pats the cushion beside her, where she had been sitting, inviting me to come closer.
Don’t have to ask me twice, I think and plop myself down beside her.
I think we’re all holding our breath as she opens her book to the first few pages.
Collectively, Adam and I let them out.
The doodles are not anywhere in line with what we envision our business to be. They’re more like some kind of floral design. Maybe for a bridal cake baker or something. Very well done, but definitely not a motorcycle gear company.
But then she flips the page, and the designs are entirely different. I would have put money on them being from a totally different designer. Still not what we’re looking for, but we could both appreciate the intricacy of the animal sketches and creative paw prints that cover the pages.
She turns the page again, and this time we both look up, catching each other’s eyes. It’s not what we want, but it gives us a feeling. The pages are covered with Celtic knots. Neither of us has any allegiance to Scottish or Irish heritage, but the strength and power and determination that the knots signify are what we want our gear to say.
Adam is the first to speak. “These are really great Alexa, you’ve got such a unique approach. None of these designs look anything like each other.”
She smiles, clearly pleased at that. “I don’t have a style like some designers do. I design for the situation. I feel like every brand has its own voice, its own style. I just bring it to life.”
“You definitely do,” I agree with her. “I have to be honest, those designs aren’t exactly what we’re looking for, but I’d love to see how you might bring life to our voice and style if you’d be up for the challenge?” I think back to the moment when she finally got on the bike behind me; I want to remind her that she can trust me. She can trust us to value her work.
She looks me in the eye for a few seconds, and then smiles.
“I’d absolutely love it,” she answers, and my heart gives a ridiculous little leap of glee.
CHAPTER 7
Alexa
I’m actually shaking with nerves as I get ready to show my new sketches to the guys. The past three days I’ve put everything out of my mind – all my drama and Matt fear – and focused solely on translating the spirit and energy of Adam and Parker into designs.
I’ve never invested so much of myself into a project, and I’m straight up terrified that they’re not going to like it.
I’ve practiced my concession speech over and over, memorizing all the words that I can use to tell them that it’s ok if they don’t like it, I’ll understand. Of course, it’s total bullshit. I’ll be devastated. But I think I’m a good actress. I finally got them to believe my “just seeing the country story,” after all.
Adam made it sound like it was just good business for me to stay here with him while I get the sketches ready and wait for my car to be fixed, but I know he was really just being nice.
He and Parker are two of the genuinely nicest men I’ve ever met in my life. Every day I wake up and wonder if I’m dreaming. I refuse to open my eyes until I can hear sounds that are unmistakably Adam, just to be sure I won’t find myself back home.
I’ve had perfect excuses to get to know them each better and, even though it’s only been three days, I feel like I know them better than I know my own family.
I’ve always needed to understand a business at its core in order to be able to perfectly represent that business as a brand, but developing a concept that shows off the depth of character of each of these men, as well as their shared love and passion for riding, was an entirely new experience for me.
In my sketchbook now I have pages dedicated to Adam, pages dedicated to Parker, and pages upon pages of symbols and designs that represent them both, and the ideals and dreams for their business.
It’s almost like for every moment of time I spend with Adam, a piece of history that never actually happened is created. I’ve known him for three days, but I feel like we’ve been in some form of relationship for three lifetimes. Not necessarily lovers, but friends. Family. And maybe lovers too. I smile to myself thinking I wouldn’t throw him out of bed, that’s for sure.
I can’t believe I ever thought he was gruff. He’s like your favorite blanket – nothing else in the world can make you feel so comforted, but it’s been through so much it’s more than a little tattered around the edges.
Parker has a different kind of magnetism. It’s like he can look at you and make you believe in anything. In yourself, in him. He’s pure strength and it’s impossible not to believe him if he says something’s true. Because nothing in this universe could possibly defy him.
But it’s like he can flip a switch. Adam is always comfort and safety. Parker is fun, and lightness and carefree. Until he needs you to trust him. And then he’s undeniable.
I remember that first time I got on the bike behind him. I was terrified. I can laugh at myself now, but I was a timid, frightened little girl who legitimately thought she was going to die. And with one, true and honest look, he made me trust him enough to get on the bike.
And thank god I did.
I head out into the living room where the guys are waiting. As soon as I see them both, my nerves steady and I let out a breath that I didn’t realize I had been holding.
Parker pats the cushion between them, which has become my unofficial position over the nights we three have spent together telling stories and watching silly movies.
I put on a confident smile and head over to them.
“Alright guys, I really hope you like what I’ve come up with, but please don’t worry about hurting my feelings. It’s really important to me that you’re completely honest. If they’re not at all right for you, that’s totally fine. You’ll find a designer that’s perfect for you, I know it. But if they’re on the right track, I’m going to need your complete honesty in order to perfect them for you.”
This is the most important conversation I have with any of my clients, but I’ve never meant it so much. I desperately want to give these guys perfection, to show them how much they’ve come to mean to me, how grateful I am for them.
“Come on then!” Parker laughs with typical enthusiasm. “You’re killing me, let’s see what you’ve got.”
I take a deep breath and open up to the first page of the new sketchbook I had picked up for exactly this purpose.
All the images fell into a common theme, each a series of abstract interlocking shapes that take on the impression of something else when placed in the right order.
The graphics on the first page had thick lines and defined points. Some of the images took the shape of dragons or eagles, and sometimes just gave the impression of a feather. The impact I had wanted to make was one of security and strength.
I hear Parker suck in his breath beside me, and I hold my own.
“Adam,” he nearly whispers. “That’s you.”
My heart soars. He gets it! I look at him, completely unable to suppress the joy on my face and see his eyes wide in astonishment.
I look over at Adam and the look on his face makes the sharp sting of tears come to my eyes. He’s staring at them in awe.
“These are amazing,” he says. “It really is me.”
“It is!” I answer happily. “These are all you.”
I flip the page to show Parker his designs.
The next pages are filled with thin, purposeful lines. They twine and flow into shapes more reminiscent of nature – waterfalls, trees, mountains. Where Adam is nurture, Parker is the steadfast, living embodiment of nature. He’s full of playful life but will always stand strong when tested.
Adam laughs out loud when he sees the next pages. “That’s you for sure, Parker! I’d never have been able to put you into art, but that’s you.”
I’m grinning like the Cheshire cat at this point and I toss my head to see what Parker thinks.
Again, his eyes are wide in amazement. He makes the greatest faces.
“Is this really what you think of me?” he asks, tracing one finger over some of the designs. “It’s so…I don’t know. I want to say playful, but when you look at it another way, it’s totally manly.”
“Just like you,” I say, happier than I’ve ever been at presenting designs to my clients.
The next few pages are a combination of the two men, with the bold and thin lines weaving together to create unity. This would be their brand if they liked it.
And they do. I hand the book over to them and they flip through the pages, pointing out design after design, laughing and flexing their muscles as they imitate what they think the designs look like.
They look at the designs for ages, and it makes my heart fill with pride. I can’t think of a single another moment in my life that has meant more to me.
That thought fills me with a sudden wave of sadness and it dawns on me that this is not my real life. This has been an incredible little vacation from reality, but where can it possibly lead? I’m going to have to start planning my next move soon. My car will be ready eventually and I’ll either have to keep moving or – I don’t know – find a way to stay hidden from Matt forever.
I hate that such a black cloud has set up camp over this bright, happy day. I hate even more that Adam sees my mood change almost instantly.
“What’s wrong?” he asks, putting the sketchbook down and looking concerned.
What am I going to tell these guys? These men who have taken me in and made me feel safe and protected and reminded me of what it was like to find the passion in my life again. Was I just going to leave and disappear on them?
I can’t do that. I’m going to have to tell them, I think. Maybe they’ll kick me out, as they probably should, but they deserve to know. Fucking Matt isn’t their problem. I probably shouldn’t have even stayed this long.
Fighting against tears, I decide to tell them the whole story.
CHAPTER 8
Adam
I’ll kill him. It’s the mantra that continues to repeat itself over and over in my head.
If he’s ever stupid enough to set foot anywhere near Alexa again, I’ll kill him.
No wonder she was suspicious and terrified when we first met her. I’ll kill the fucking bastard.
Over the past few days, P
arker and I have gotten very close to Alexa. Even without knowing her story, she won our respect and friendship just by being a fun person to spend time with. She really took the effort to understand who we are at our cores. She says it was for the designs, but I think it’s just who she is.
I think that’s why she fits in so well with the two of us. We’ve spent years of our lives training to be able to read people, but she comes by it naturally. It’s her downfall in many ways, I guess. She’s too empathetic. Parker and I are going to have to make sure no one takes advantage of that again.
Fucking bastard animal.
I had to leave the apartment after she was done telling us everything. Thank god for fucking white knight Parker, he kept a level head. I could see the anger burning in his eyes as much as I felt it, but he could hide it better than I could.
I made an excuse and left to get more wine. I rode to the next town to get it, defying all traffic regulations and letting the thrum of the engine between my legs work its magic on me.
Nothing can calm me quite as a fury ride can.
I’m back now, walking upstairs instead of taking the elevator.
I enter my own apartment quietly, not entirely sure what I’m going to find. Immediately, I can feel the energy of the room has changed. Parker has worked his magic. She’s put her trust in him, in us, and accepts that we’ll keep her safe.
They’re on the couch, play fighting or something. She’s got one leg swung overtop of one of his, and their hands are intertwined, sort of wrestling. They’re both laughing. They look intimate, but not in a way that I feel like I’m interrupting. I clear my throat anyway, just to be sure they know I’m there.
“Hey bud,” Parker barks at me, not taking his attention off his hand war with Alexa. “Took you long enough – you get the wine?”
“Yeah,” I say, holding up two bottles in the affirmative.
I immediately crack one open and join them in the living room, pouring for all three of us.