by Staci Hart
Frowning, I dried off. Antsy, I dressed. But when I picked up the phone to call my mom, I only felt relief.
She’d know what to do.
She answered on the second ring. “Habibi. Hello, Samhir.”
“Hi, Mama. How’s your day?”
“Good. Papa and I started ballroom dancing. I didn’t know the phrase weak ankles before today.”
I chuckled. “Well, maybe they’ll beef up with a little working out.”
“I hope so. In a few weeks, we’ll be practicing swing. Maybe Papa and I can come to your club and dance.”
“Maybe,” I said noncommittally, uncertain how I felt about the prospect of my father hearing me play there.
“But that isn’t why you called, qalbi.” She changed the subject with purposeful, professional ease. “How are you?”
“Fine. I actually wanted to ask you about a friend of mine.”
“Of course. How can I help?”
I sighed, deep and noisy. “I don’t know what to do about her.”
“Something needs to be done?”
“Yes. I think so at least, and I think I’m the person who needs to do it.”
“And why is that?” she asked, psychiatristing me.
Normally, I’d evade. But desperate times and all that.
“Well, she developed young, really young, and the other kids sexualized her. I think she just…shut down. I know for sure her brothers earned her some breathing room, thanks to a few well-placed fists. But she never really got over it. And now…I don’t know, Mama. She doesn’t believe me. She doesn’t know how beautiful she is.”
For a moment, there was silence as she gathered her thoughts. “And you want to be the one to change her mind?”
“No, I need to be. I can’t explain it. I just…I think I might be the only person who can see it. Who sees her.”
She didn’t speak through my pause, so I kept talking.
“She’s never dated, not really. She’s never been in love or had someone cherish her. Worship her. She doesn’t understand her worth, her value.”
“How does that make you feel?”
I laughed at the blatant therapist question, but I answered it. “Frustrated. Angry—not at her, for her. It motivates me. I have to do something. She deserves to be with a man who sees her the way I see her. Who appreciates her the way I do. Who will treat her with the respect she deserves.”
I shook my head, dragging my hand through my hair. The vision of her trying to cover her body in shame haunted me, materializing like it had between the moments of unslaked desire. I meant what I’d said—I hated that she felt the way she did. I hated whoever had contributed to her insecurity, hated that she couldn’t love her body the way I did.
That was all she needed—to be worshipped until she believed she was worthy of every reverent touch.
There had to be someone.
An idea sparked and caught fire.
“Thanks, Mama.”
She laughed. “I didn’t do anything but listen.”
“I know, but it worked,” I said as my smile climbed. “I know just what to do.”
Val
“So, I had an idea.”
Sam pulled me a little closer, his arm hanging on my shoulders, our strides aligned—mine stretched a little longer, his shortened to match.
I smiled, hoping his idea involved nudity. “Tell me.”
“I think it’s time for a real date.”
“You do?” My heart hopped on the Tilt-A-Whirl and rode it around like a screaming loon.
A date. A date with Sam. Sam and me. Dating.
Dating!
This is it.
Don’t freak out.
Don’t blow it.
Don’t—
“I do. And I have the perfect guy in mind.”
I laughed, nestling into his side. My fingers toyed with the waistband of his jeans, eager to get them off of him. “I bet you do.”
“So his name is Adam. He’s a buddy of mine from Juilliard—”
I didn’t hear what else he said. My brain was wholly occupied with processing the name Adam, which was definitely not the name Sam, and thus, I could not comprehend what he was saying.
It dawned on me slowly, like waking from a dream. He wanted to set me up on a date with someone named Adam. Because he and I weren’t dating. We weren’t anything but friends with an unconventional arrangement. An arrangement with rules. Boundaries.
Boundaries I’d selectively forgotten.
Something inside me simultaneously broke and snapped back into place like a bone that had healed wrong.
“And you guys are going to be great together. I know him. He’s perfect for you.”
Perfect for me.
I took a painful breath and smiled. “I’d love to meet him.”
“Good, because he’s already agreed to a date. Tomorrow night, if you’re free.”
“Yeah, I’m free.” I was always free. Every night for weeks had been reserved for Sam.
“I’ll let him know.” Sam pulled me to a stop and turned to face me. One hand snaked around my waist, the other cupped my cheek, and his face was smiling and pleased. “This is your final exam. He’s gonna take care of you, Val. And if he doesn’t, let me know so I can teach him a lesson or two.”
I chuckled, though my heart sank on a slow track for my stomach. “So, I guess our lessons are finished?”
He tightened his grip on my waist, bringing me flush against him. “The month ended yesterday.”
My lungs caught in a hitch. The ache in my heart was unbearable.
“But you want to know the truth?”
“What?” I asked breathlessly.
“You didn’t need any lessons in the first place. I just count myself lucky to have been here while you figured it out for yourself. You knew what to do. You proved that to both of us last night.”
The memory flashed through me, through all of me, heart to heel and everywhere in between. Pain drifted in its wake at the knowledge that I wouldn’t have a night like that again, maybe ever.
“Thank you, Sam. For”—wanting me, showing me, helping me, teaching me—“everything.”
“Don’t thank me, not for doing something that was such a pleasure. I…” Something darkened behind his eyes, something he wanted to say. Something I desperately wanted to hear. But then he blinked, and it was gone. “I’m glad we’re friends.”
“Me too.” My smile was as heavy with loss as it was honest with appreciation.
He angled my face, tipped it to his, lowered his lips to brush them against mine in a kiss that was featherlight and fringed with goodbye. And when he stepped back and pulled me into his side once more, the world was colder than it had been a few minutes ago.
And for once, the heat of his body couldn’t chase away the chill.
23
Someone Like Me
Val
I smoothed my skirt, ignoring the three worried faces in the mirror behind me.
“I don’t like it.” Katherine’s words were flat and definitive.
“Honestly, it’s fine,” I said for probably the seventy-second time in the last twenty-four hours. I had been asleep for at least eight of those. “It’s like I said the other night—you know, when I told you guys he wasn’t into me?” I laid a look on all their faces to make sure they’d heard me. They had. “This is what I signed up for. Sam’s just my friend, and I knew when I asked him to kiss me that this was all it would ever be. He’s my friend, and he cares about me. So much in fact that he hand-picked a guy to set me up with. His standards are so high, I have no doubt Adam will be not only handsome, but well mannered and respectful. If he has a good sense of humor, I might just throw my panties at him the second I have the chance.”
Rin frowned. “I’m sorry, Val. I’m honestly just so surprised. I was banking on a declaration and possibly a proposal of marriage.”
I laughed. “Not everyone is like you and Court with the breakneck relationships. Espec
ially not Sam. I’ve never known anyone so unattached. How he could spend this much time with me, be this affectionate and share this much of my life, all while keeping his heart on lockdown is beyond me. I know my heart hasn’t been.”
“No, it hasn’t,” Amelia said softly.
“If he told me right now he wanted to see me, I’d blow off my date and run straight into his arms. If he said he wanted to be with me, I’d dive in without thinking twice. But I’m…I don’t know how to explain it. I’m not under any delusions about him. I know exactly what we are and what we’re not. I know what’s available to me and what isn’t. And Sam’s heart is not on the table. It never was. He did exactly what we set out to do, and now, I’m graduating. We should be celebrating.”
“Then why do you look so sad?” It was Rin, and her eyes, when I met them, were as downtrodden as my own.
I attempted a smile. “Because that doesn’t mean I don’t wish things were different.” I sighed. “But this is exactly how it should be. And that’s just fine.”
“Every time you say the word fine, I believe you less and less,” Katherine said.
A laugh huffed out of me. I turned to face them, holding my hands up in display, palms up. “Do I look okay?” My skirts flared a little when I shifted.
Their affirmations made me feel a little better about the whole mess.
When I looked at the clock, I hissed a swear. I was about to be late. “I’ve got to go. Wish me luck,” I said, scooping up my purse and phone.
We headed out of my room with me leading the charge like we were on an expedition. Although the most gusto I could muster would max us out at conquering a ball pit at Chuck E. Cheese’s.
“Crush it!” Amelia cheered, then amended, “I mean, don’t crush his dick. Except maybe with your vagina.” She sighed. “You know what I mean.”
“Break a bed frame!” Katherine encouraged. We gave her a look. “You know, because the sex is so savage.”
I laughed as we approached the front door.
Rin pulled me into a hug when I turned to face them. “You’re going to be great, Val. I hope he’s funny and smart and gorgeous.”
“And that he has a fire hose in his pants,” Amelia said with a waggle of her brows.
“I love you guys,” I said on a chuckle.
“We love you, too,” they said in unison, and we all burst into laughter.
And with that, I could stall no more. I pulled on my coat and stepped outside to meet the evening, wishing I could just go back inside and climb in bed with a bowl of guacamole the size of my face and a bag of chips. And some tequila. I wouldn’t have thumbed my nose at tequila at all.
Before I took three steps, my phone buzzed with a text from Sam.
I would wish you luck, but you don’t need it.
I smiled down at my phone, ignoring my speeding pulse as I texted him back. I wish I had your faith in me. I’m nervous.
Don’t be. Tell me what you learned in lesson one.
I took a breath and messaged him back. Eye contact. Compliment him. Touch him, not weirdly. I guess I won’t have to use a pick-up line since we’re already going on a date.
You forgot the most important thing.
What’s that?
Be yourself. It’s what makes you so beautiful.
Warmth bloomed in my chest, the edges touched with pain. So I made a joke. You sure it’s not my red lipstick? I paused on the sidewalk to take a ridiculous selfie, kissy face and all, and fired it off.
The dots that indicated he was typing started, then stopped, then started again three times before the text came through. That definitely doesn’t hurt.
Another message came through right after.
When is he picking you up?
He’s not, I answered. I’m walking there now.
He didn’t come pick you up? Why didn’t he come pick you up?
I rolled my eyes, but I found myself smiling. Because I didn’t want him to know where I lived until at least the third date. Wasn’t it you who told me eighty percent of men are assholes?
Eighty-five, and it’s true. But Adam isn’t one of those guys. That’s why I picked him. Well, that, and I knew you’d love him.
Hopefully he loves me, too.
If he doesn’t, he’s a fucking idiot, and you should send him to me so I can tell him so to his face.
I laughed, already feeling less nervous. Sam had a knack for that. All right, I’m almost there. I’ll talk to you later.
Message me and let me know how it went.
Okay. Thanks again, Sam.
Anytime. Oh, one last thing.
What’s that?
Don’t forget that you’re the prize. Not him.
My cheeks flamed hot, and I shook my head at my phone, smiling. If you say so.
I say so.
I slipped my phone into my purse, warm and giddy. Problem was, I was walking into a date with a guy who wasn’t the one who’d made me warm and giddy. I did my best to shake it off in that last block, and by the time I reached for the brass door handle, I was almost ready.
Almost.
No amount of preparation would have readied me for the man waiting inside.
He stood the second I stepped in. Adam was tall—gorgeously tall—with dark hair that he wore a little long. It curled at the ends, licking the collar of his leather jacket.
“Val?” My name was a question on his sculpted, smiling lips.
Surely, this wasn’t the guy Sam had set me up with. He was almost as out of my league as Sam.
“Adam?”
He stepped to me, extended his hand, took mine when I offered it. His skin was warm, his hand strong. “Sam said you were a stunner, but I had no idea you were this beautiful. It’s nice to meet you, Val.”
“You too,” I said from behind a blush.
“I got us a table by the window. I hope that’s okay.”
“Of course.” I followed him to the table, pausing for him to pull out the chair for me. “Thanks,” I said as I passed him and sat.
He smelled good, I noted, and he had a nice handshake, but neither affected me. It didn’t linger in my mind, and I didn’t feel the ghost of touch on my skin. Not like Sam.
Stop it, Val. He’s not Sam, primarily because he’s actually available.
“So,” I said as he took the seat across from me, “you know Sam from school?”
He smiled, sitting back in his chair. His eyes were bright and friendly, happy eyes to match his happy smile. “Everyone at school knew Sam. He’s never met a stranger, you know?”
I chuckled. “I do.”
“We were roommates for a while. You guys play Wicked together, right?”
“Yeah. I just recently got a permanent chair.”
“Congratulations. That’s no easy feat.”
“Trust me, I know,” I said on a laugh.
“Did you know the contractor?”
I shook my head. “I was subbing, and they gave me the chair. I’d never been so shocked in my life.”
He nodded, impressed. “On merit alone. Not only rare, but difficult. Congratulations.”
“Thanks. Finding subs has been interesting. I’m terrified to choose someone inadvertently who’s better than me. One cold, and I could be out of a job.”
Adam smiled. “Well, if you were good enough to earn the chair, I’m betting they’d be hard-pressed to find someone better.”
I laughed. “Oh, I doubt that, but thank you for the vote of support. What about you? Sam didn’t tell me what you do.”
At that, he smiled, the genuine smile of a man who loved his job. “I teach elementary school music.”
My insides melted, and my face melted with it. “Oh my God,” I cooed. “Are you serious?”
“Serious as a number two pencil.” He leaned in and said conspiratorially, “In case you didn’t know, those pencils are very serious. Ask any Scantron.”
I laughed, settling back in my seat as he continued.
“Best job in the
world. I don’t think I have a single student who hates my class. Do you know how impossible that average is? Ask any teacher and they’ll tell you.”
“I believe you. It’s almost impossible to hate music.”
“I’m with you. But you’d be surprised at how many kids hate it. When you don’t have rhythm or are tone deaf, music class is only a reminder of a failure. So I do whatever I can to make sure those kids find something to love.”
Seriously, my insides were about as solid as nougat in the backseat of a Jetta in August.
He smiled. “Anyway, almost everything I do involves music somehow. I even compose in my spare time.”
I brightened up. “Oh! Have you and Sam ever written anything together?”
His brows quirked in confusion. “Sam? No, as far as I know, he doesn’t write music. Although I’ve never seen anyone pick it up like he did. He made all of us look like idiots in composition class. Thank God he didn’t decide to go that direction. I’d never live down my inadequacies.”
I smiled to cover the truth, not wanting to betray Sam’s secrets, not having realized they were secrets to begin with.
“So, shaper of young minds during the day, composer by night. What else do you do?”
“I love to read. Is that dorky of me to say?” he asked, rubbing the back of his neck.
“Uh, no. Absolutely not. You should tell every woman you meet how much you love to read.”
He laughed.
“I mean it. Put a picture of your bookshelves on Tinder and see how many hits you get. Mention the fact that you teach elementary school and watch all their panties combust.”
Adam’s eyes twinkled as he leaned on the table, angling toward me. “Sam was right.”
“Right about what?”
“You’re pretty amazing. I’m glad you came, Val.”
I smiled, wishing I weren’t lying when I said, “There’s nowhere I’d rather be.”
Sam
This is fine.
I turned on my heel and paced across the room again, raking my hand through my hair.
Fine, perfectly fine.
Val was on a date. With a great guy. Who would treat her right.
Fine.
On paper, he was perfect. On paper, he was the guy. The guy who would give her everything she needed, everything she could possibly want.