Redeeming the Playboy

by Scott, S. L.

  I take it to my room and set it up on my desk. An hour later, the computer is all ready to go. I log onto Skype and type in: Evan Ashford, but he doesn’t answer.

  He’s the first and only person I add into my contacts. Needing an avi picture, I step out of my comfort zone. I wink and lick the corner of my lips—my sad attempt at sexy—and the camera snaps. Checking out the results, I decide that even though it’s kind of embarrassing, it’s also kind of hot, so I keep it.

  It’s funny what happens to your sanity when you pretend you’re not anxiously waiting for someone to call or email, text, or contact you in any form. I’m trying to play it cool, but it’s not working out so well.

  Maybe he’s working. I rationalize like five hundred times in my head. Maybe he doesn’t Skype from the office. Maybe he’s out with his friends or his family. Maybe he’s too busy fucking someone else and doesn’t realize I pinged him. Maybe I’m losing my mind? Yes! I’m losing my mind. That is the only logical answer right now.

  A knock kicks me out of my crazy thoughts and I’m relieved to be saved by the bell… er, knock. I run to answer the front door and find Sarah, arms full of stuff, standing there.

  “Mallory, I’m so glad to see you,” she says as I take two bags from her and she walks in.

  I set them on the table and turn to face her as she sets her stuff down. We hug each other tight. “I missed you so much,” I say, squeezing her tight. Sarah is the polar opposite of Sunny. Where Sunny is outgoing, popular, and ambitious, Sarah is quiet, content, and happy where she is in life. They balance our friendship out nicely. Sarah and I came to the University of Colorado together and Sunny, always the more adventurous, headed for Hawaii.

  “I missed you, too. I mean it was nice visiting my Gran in Tennessee, but there’s no place like home.”

  “Where’s Josh?” I was surprised Sarah signed another lease with me because Josh, her longtime boyfriend, asked her to move in with him last spring and his apartment is much nicer than ours. She turned him down saying that her parents would kill her if she shacked up with him before marriage.

  “He’s coming up with some of the heavier stuff from the car.” She takes me by the hand and pulls me over to the loveseat that comes with the apartment. “Loved the postcards, but I can’t wait for you to tell me all about Hawaii.”

  “Two words will sum up my summer vacation: Evan. Ashford.”

  She giggles as she rests her hands on mine all giddy for me. “So you met someone and made it official all in less than three months?”

  “We did more than meet…”

  “In the bedroom, Sarah? Hey, Mallory, good to see ya,” Josh says, walking past us with a large box.

  Sarah stands, using my knee to help her up. “Can’t wait to hear more, but I guess I should help him out.”

  “I can help,” I offer, walking down the steps of the apartment complex with her.

  Two hours later, we’re eating pizza and drinking sodas on the couch. Josh is sitting on the floor and we’re all exhausted. The apartment is in pretty good shape and with classes starting in the morning, we thought it best to stop now and finish the rest of the unpacking over this first week back.

  When I go to my bedroom and get ready for sleep around nine-thirty, I happen to notice a flashing Skype message is waiting.

  Sorry I missed your first message on your new laptop today. I was having lunch with my dad and some of his associates. I’m glad you like the present and hope to put it to good use very soon, baby. I love you, Evan.

  I jump online to see if he’s still on, but he’s not. I can’t help but feel disappointed. I’m so used to having him around all the time, talking about everything and nothing, but we’ve barely talked since he left for New York.

  I pick up my phone and crawl into bed. Before I go to sleep, I send him a text.

  I miss hearing your voice. Sweet dreams.

  The lamp gets switched off as I set my phone on the nightstand. I roll onto my side, away from the phone, hoping it will help me forget about it and the wishful thinking I have that he’ll call, but it doesn’t. I toss and turn for hours never quite reaching that deep, restful sleep I need.

  When sleep finally comes, I’m jolted awake by my phone ringing. I jump up automatically and answer without my mind fully coherent. “Hello!”

  “Hi, baby, did I wake you?” Evan slurs into the phone.

  Sitting up, I try to clear my foggy mind. “Evan, what time is it?” In the dark room I look over at my alarm clock. It’s after midnight.

  “I dunno.”

  By the loud music and chattering in the background, he’s not home and for some reason that irritates me. “Babe, it’s late here, which means it’s really late there. Don’t you have work in the morning?”

  “Yeah, I had a tough day.” He chuckles, his drunkenness showing. “I’m blowing off steam, but I’m leaving soon. I got your text and you said you wanted to hear my voice. So, here it is, just for you.”

  Call me crabby from being woken up, but I’m not amused. “I sent that text almost four hours ago. I start my classes at eight in the morning, so I went to bed early to be rested and now—”

  “Don’t be mad. I’m just hanging with some old friends from—”

  “Let me guess, old friends from high school? That’s great and I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself, but I need sleep.” On top of being irritated, now I’m worried about him hanging out with people he always said he didn’t care about.

  “I miss you.” He attempts to whisper, but he’s loud as he breathes into the phone. “Will you do me a teeny tiny favor? Please, pretty please?”

  I sigh, first of all because I’m tired, secondly because he’s drunk and won’t remember this conversation tomorrow. And thirdly, because I do want to hear his voice and even drunk it’s fantastic. “Okay.”

  “Touch yourself for me, baby. Touch yourse—”

  “I’m hanging up now. Goodbye, Evan.”

  I push the end button and silence my phone. As I snuggle back under my covers, I convince myself that was the right thing to do. He’s drunk. Yes, I did want to hear his voice, but in a conversation with me. I’m in no mood for ‘other’ stuff.

  * * *

  My alarm sounds less than six hours later and I begrudgingly pull myself from the warm coziness of my bed.

  An hour later, Sarah and I are walking to campus together. It’s good to see the familiar scenery, but last night is on my mind, and showing on my face apparently too.

  Sarah nudges me with her elbow as she readjusts her backpack. “You said it’s good to be back, but I think you’re somewhere else. Want to talk about it?”

  “Evan’s in New York.”

  “That’s good, right?”

  “I’m not sure yet.”

  “What are you worried about?”

  “Everything.” I laugh, but there’s no humor in it. “His mom is evil and hates me.”

  “No one hates you, especially not parents. They always love you.”

  “Mrs. Ashford doesn’t and has made it more than clear that I’m not good enough for Evan.”

  “Seriously?”

  I nod. “She’s going to set him up with women there. I know she is.”

  “So you’re worried he’ll meet someone else? That doesn’t sound like the guy you told me about.”

  “This is not really about him, but her. I don’t trust his mother.”

  We round the corner and head toward our first classes.

  Sarah sighs. “Well, you can’t control anyone else, but yourself. So you have to decide if you can handle a long term relationship or not.”

  Smiling, I say, “I want this with him and I totally trust him. I mean, the guy can’t help that he’s fuckhot.”

  Making me feel better, she laughs. “That he can’t.”

  We see lots of our friends that we haven’t seen all summer. I’m smiling because it’s good to be back. I loved Hawaii, but this is what I’ve known for the last three years and it’s my
comfort zone.

  My first class drags with boring first day stuff like lesson plans, project assignments, syllabus, expectations, etc… My mind drifts to Evan and the way we hung up last night. He was the first thing I thought of when I woke up and I checked my phone. He didn’t call back after I hung up. He’s been on my mind ever since.

  The second class on my schedule is called ‘English Literature in the Business World.’ Sounds interesting and since I’m determined to put my English major into use, I thought this class would give me a nice perspective. It’s a bonus that Sarah is also in the class.

  We meet in front of the auditorium and go inside, grabbing the last two seats together. We’re having a perfectly lovely conversation of gossip mixed with opinions about our first class when someone plops down next to me, slams their notebook on the tiny desk and announces, “Hey, good lookin’. Summer treated you well.”

  I know that voice without even turning. Sarah tenses, and I close my eyes to calm the anger building inside of me. Slowly, I turn. “Actually, it was my boyfriend who treated me well this summer, Will.”

  “Don’t get your panties in a twist. You’re always so high strung—”

  I add that phrase to the list of the most annoying things men say to women, and reply, “Why are you sitting here if you think that of me?” I cross my arms defensively across my chest.

  “So you have a boyfriend, huh? When did this happen? Is he back in Denver? Just sayin’ cuz I noticed you’re quick with the comebacks and judging by how you use that mouth, I would say you’ve learned a thing or two about pleasing a—”

  “Will, how’s it going?”

  Sarah, myself, and Will all turn to see a tall, handsome man with dark hair and light eyes and a kind smile. I can’t tell if his eyes are green or blue from my seat, but I can tell how hot this guy is. He speaks again before any of us have a chance. “I’m sorry for interrupting, but Will is one of the few people I know since I transferred here.”

  Sarah and I remain silent as he sits down on the other side of Will. Will finally acknowledges him, but is clearly irritated with his timing. “Hey Ryan, this is—”

  “Sarah, I’m Sarah,” she says with a goofy grin on her face while reaching over me to shake his hand. “And this is Mallory.”

  I take that as my cue for an intervention. “I’m really sorry you have such bad taste in friends like Will here.”

  Three of us laugh at the joke, well, kind of a joke…okay, I wasn’t kidding at all.

  Will huffs and says, “Mallory is a little bitter after the break-up. But she’s got one helluva ass on her.”

  Ryan punches him in the arm as my mouth drops open. “That’s not how you talk about a woman. Got it?”

  “Whatever dude,” He says, pissed. “She’s pretty frigid. I’m only warning you. Don’t waste your time on her.”

  “I think I’m a big boy and can make my own decisions, but thanks, dude.”

  The teacher interrupts their little spat as my eyes fill with tears. Trying to contain the tears Will’s words incite, I turn away. Sarah whispers, “Don’t let him get to you. He’s so not worth it, Mal.”

  I nod once, unable to speak. I refuse to show my weaknesses to Will again this year. Last year was bad enough. I’m not the same person anymore. I’ve changed. Hawaii changed me. Evan changed me and I’m stronger because of him.

  What happens next is a punishment—a punishment for being happy. I don’t think karma can actually live peacefully on my side. She has to come and bite me in the ass to remind me of my place in the universe. As karma sinks her teeth into the flesh of my bottom, the professor declares that the four of us are assigned together for the class project we have due in four months. And, it will determine our final grade. The professor continues by saying there will be no whining or switching teams—the teams are final.

  I roll my eyes and exclaim, “Damn it!” My voice carries further than I intend and the professor eyes me as Will laughs.

  “Hey, Mallory,” Ryan says, whispering, “I look forward to proving this asshole wrong about you.” He elbows Will in a friendly manner then focuses back on me, smiles and winks.

  I don’t know if I should be more worried about having to work on this project with my cheating ex-boyfriend or his very flirtatious and cute friend.

  23

  Evan

  Walking down the streets of Manhattan, I try to blend into the bustle of the crowded sidewalk, but I don’t fit in, everything feels off here compared to Hawaii. I need to surf. I need that mental escape hitting the waves gives me. My shoulder is knocked by a passerby, no big deal, it happens in a city of eight million. But then I hear, “Evan Ashford?”

  My gaze jerks up and over my shoulder to see a young guy, well-groomed in a black sports coat and red pocket square standing behind me. It takes a second longer for my mind to place him though I should have recognized him immediately. “Oh, wow, Landon Abbott… Hey, I didn’t expect to run into anyone. What a surprise. How’s it going?” I smile at my old high school buddy.

  “Going great,” he says, eagerly shaking my hand. “How long are you back in the city for?”

  “I’ve only been back a few days.”

  He wraps his arm over my shoulders, and says, “Perfect timing. I’m meeting Hamilton and Grant around the corner for some drinks. You should come with me. It’d be good to have the old gang back together.”

  Pushing back my white sleeve, I look at my silver Omega watch—a watch I wear only when I’m in Manhattan. I figure I have time. It’s Sunday and I finally finished working, trying to catch up on the files for the upcoming presentation my dad trusted me with and could really use a beer about now.

  What I didn’t count on discovering is that ‘the gang’ still hangs out together. The guys are in their last year of university and fulfilling their internship credits at each other’s family’s company—cushy gig for sure. They drive in on the weekends from Harvard and Princeton and stay through Tuesdays before returning back for other classes. Being around them again gives me an unexpected perspective. I can suddenly see myself in this world again—working, making loads of money, and living the high life like in the old days with my friends.

  Matching them drink for drink, I fit right in, looking the part and slipping right back into my old self.

  This group always attracted the ladies and tonight is no different. Through my drunken haze, seeing the short skirts and long legs make me miss Mallory. I want to sneak away, needing to call her so she can ground me back to her and Hawaii. I’m not ready to play this role again, the one I’m expected to play. But being here with the boys, I’m distracted by another round of shots. We end up at Hamilton’s apartment. More drinks and several hours later, I finally have an opportunity to call my girl.

  She answers in a soft and sleepy voice, “Hello.”

  “Hi, baby, did I wake you?” I say into the phone, trying not to sound drunk even though I’m starting to spin. My tongue isn’t cooperating which is so damn frustrating. I hope she can’t tell.

  She pauses a moment before asking, “Evan, what time is it?” There’s an edge to her tone that puts me on guard. Maybe calling her wasn’t such a good idea, after all.

  Looking down at my watch, I have trouble making out the numbers. “I dunno.” I hold my hand over the phone, and yell over my shoulder, “Hey, turn down the music.” That’s when I spot some girls I don’t know in the living room. Where’d they come from?

  “Babe, it’s late.”

  “Uh, yeah, it’s late here too, I guess. I just had a tough day…” I chuckle, a joke Abbott told earlier making me laugh again. “…I’m blowing off steam. I’ll be going home soon. It’s been too long since I saw you. I need to see you, baby. I need to touch you and fuck—”

  “Evan! That music is loud. Where are you?”

  “Don’t be mad. I ran into some buddies.”

  “I’m not mad,” her tone is defensive. “I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself, but I need sleep.” If she
was standing in front of me, I bet she would’ve been stamping her foot at that last statement. She’s such a feisty turn-on.

  “I miss you,” I whisper, my shoulder dropping as I close my eyes. I should let her sleep, but I’m a selfish bastard and need more. “Will you do me a teeny tiny favor? Please, pretty please?”

  There’s a long pause, but she responds, soft and open to me, “Okay, what?”

  “Touch yourself for me. Touch yourse—”

  “I’m hanging up now. Goodbye, Evan. Call me tomorrow,” she says, cutting me off before hanging up.

  I thought that’s what she wanted from me. Fuck! It’s what I want from her. I miss her. I miss fucking her. I miss fucking. I miss everything about her and she hung up on me.

  “Hey, Ashford, Grant has the clean shit. You in?”

  I turn around and see Grant pouring a vile of white powder onto the glass coffee table in front of him. I stare, remembering how much I liked the drug in high school. My shock is evident in my reaction. “You’re still doing that shit? Fuck, that’s messed up.” I run my hand slowly through my hair, the inner devil wanting to come out and play. He takes a seat on my shoulder and whispers, ‘Don’t you miss the freedom it gave you—no worries, no stress, just fun. We haven’t had fun together since you met her and became all boring. Let’s show the boys how to really party.’

  “What? Like you don’t use anymore? You’ve been lounging in the Pacific for well over a year maybe two now. I know you can’t be clean,” Grant says, an arrogant bite to his tone.

  “Actually, I haven’t done it since high school. The last time was with you jackholes.” I watch as Landon draws it in through his nose and a longing deep inside makes my mouth salivate.

  “Hi, we haven’t been introduced,” a tall, leggy blonde says, sidling up to me with traces of white powder rimming her nose.

  Right then! It was right then that I knew it wasn’t the drugs, or the drinks, girls, or this city I wanted. Not only would they get me into trouble if I did cave to any of them, but I’d screw up everything with Mallory. It doesn’t matter that she hung up on me. I deserved that for being an asshole to her. “I’ve gotta go. Thanks for the drinks,” I announce, grabbing my jacket and rushing out the door and down the hall without looking back.