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JOINED (The Joined Series)

Page 2

by Alexia Stone


  “I-I think that we should head back. My friend will get worried about me.” I knew that if I didn’t leave soon, I would literally tackle him. And I was no linebacker. Walking across from me, he opened up his small fridge and took out a bottle of sparkling water, pouring it into two fancy looking glasses. He handed me a glass. I giggled.

  “What’s so funny?” Besides the over-the-top drinking glasses and this situation?

  Thoroughly comfortable, he rested his hands. Unbidden, the words flew out of my mouth. “This whole situation. Guy randomly selects a girl from the crowd and talks to her at the lingerie section of a store. Guy orders the girl to his own private dressing room and kisses her. But he’s not just any guy. He’s a hot guy.” I took an uneasy sip of the crisp tasting sparkling water, reminding me of champagne. I hoped that I spoke in a neutral tone, not hysterically.

  Arching his eyebrow questioningly, he said, “I am not just a hot guy, as you put it. And you’re not a girl. You’re a beautiful woman. Don’t reduce yourself to being one of many. You’re also insulting me.” He stated it with no indication that he was scolding me by his relaxed stance and overwhelming confidence.

  “Mr. Gu—“

  “Mateja,” he immediately corrected me.

  A side of his face curved and I inclined my head to him. “Mateja. You should know that I don’t think little of myself.” I looked at the small bubbles rising to the top of my glass. Mateja narrowed his eyes at me, considering the veracity of my response. “I know I am attractive, but I am average looking on a good day. I don’t feel…inadequate because of it, but that’s just how it is.”

  He took my glass and placed it on the table next to his and ignored my point. “You should know that I think I am much more obsessed with your lips and

  tongue than you are with mine. I can’t wait to put your tongue to work.”

  Opening the door for me, I pivoted out of the room and Mateja walked beside me. I had to get my bearings together. This man was serious about what he just said to me. As much as I would have found it repulsive from any other man; I didn’t with him. He shut down all of my defenses, my logical thinking, and with great frustration at myself, I thought about his lips again.

  After a few minutes back in the intimate wear section, I heard someone clearing his/her throat. Mateja turned around and Consuela was behind him, blushing crimson.

  “I have the bra in your size. Would you like the panty too?”

  “She’ll have that and the whole set from the middle to the corner over there.” He turned his body, raising his chin several feet away from us. Consuela’s mouth opened wide. Nearby, the other associates fixed their faces expressionlessly. Floored, I sucked in my own cheeks and looked around as if I hadn’t seen the other items in this section.

  “Mr. Guvo. I apologize. I had no idea this young lady was here with you.”

  Consuela moved in closer to Mateja, with a frantic look on her face, ready to spew out more apologies and explanations. His hands came down on her shoulders. “There’s no need to apologize. How could you have known Rebecca is here with me?” He rubbed her shoulders. His acknowledgement of me sent a sensation of pleasure throughout my body, uplifting my mood. “I simply didn’t tell you.” The other associates cast questioning glances at each other, clearly in awe that he claimed to be with me. Better yet, that he was purchasing tons of lingerie—for me, of all people. The associates looked like the kinds of ladies that would be in his company.

  Consuela’s shoulders lowered and she half-smirked at him, returning back to business. “Patty! Leticia! Get every item from here over ”—she pointed—“ and across from us in her size… the panties in medium to large. Note any items that we don’t have in stock and we’ll ask…them if they’d like the items shipped to the store or sent...um…to them.” She cast him a glance.

  “I appreciate all this…Mr. Guvo. This won’t be necessary.”

  His jaw tightened. Involuntarily, I took a step back. A man never paid so much attention to me in my life and rarely worked himself up enough to be frustrated with me. I liked it. I really wanted to please him but I didn’t know why. He made me feel better about myself and I wanted to do the same for him, even though he didn’t need a confidence booster. Consuela looked at me like I was silly.

  “Remember. Call me Mateja,” he ordered in a forced pleasant tone, making it clear to me again that he didn’t like my reluctance to call him by his first name. “You don’t like these bras?”

  “I like them.” For a moment, I paused and with a quick laugh, he lightly nudged my shoulder at my apprehension. Thankfully, the change in music and increase in attractive female customers made me realize that I wasn’t dreaming. Indeed, I was in front of this handsome man whose focus was entirely on me, even though some attractive women conveniently brushed passed him.

  I shrugged, hoping to get this moment behind me because my whole body was flushed from his kiss and the nearness we shared. If Consuela looked at me with curiosity, I would’ve been a blubbering mess.

  Mateja waved his hand at me dismissively. “She’s a stubborn woman,” he told Consuela, like he knew me for a decent period of time to make such an assessment of me. “In all these years, have I ever brought any women here?”

  She shook her head. I was more surprised that he asked her that question than the answer. Why was he explaining himself to me? Besides, he probably sent women elsewhere or gave them the money to wear the lingerie that he liked. “It’s nice to see that you’re here, shopping with Rebecca.” She beamed a smile. “We’ve been trying to match him with someone for years,” she said it like I should kiss the ground he walked on.

  “She’s a nice woman, right?” he asked her as if I wasn’t even there. Before Consuela could respond, one of the associates returned, looking rushed.

  “We’ll have to order six bras in her size. We have all of the underwear in her size. We’ll get them by next week, the latest.”

  “Is that okay, Mr. Guvo?” Consuela asked him.

  He looked stoic as thought about it, and then he moved to stand beside me. “Would you like the bras shipped to the store…or shipped to your residence?”

  I was still dumbfounded. “Again, I think this is too much,” I insisted.

  “We’ve known each other for a brief time,” he told Consuela and the other sales associate, which was beyond an understatement, but I didn’t want them to know that I knew him for less than an hour. Consuela and Patty nodded understandingly. “But I get the impression that she doesn’t treat herself to much…maybe doesn’t even care for shopping,” he said conspiratorially, “and I know that every woman deserves to celebrate her body. This is one of those ways.” He temporarily stopped, the assured look of his piercing gaze made me want to smack his arm because he was correct. “Am I mistaken?” He asked in mock confusion. Both of the ladies looked at me like I wasn’t worth his efforts.

  “Certainly, Mr. Guvo,” Consuela said.

  He lightly clapped his hands. “At the store or to your residence?” He asked me again, unwilling to ask that question again.

  “At my home will be just fine.”

  “Very well, then.” Mateja looked at his phone. “Ladies, thank you for your assistance! It’s been a pleasure, as always. I’ve got to make a run for it. Any problems, call me.” He walked away. Mid-stride, he stopped, looking at me intently. “Charge it on my account. Anything else she buys, put it on my account too.” He paced through the store, no longer in my view. I had a few things I wanted to make clear to him in the absence of the sales associates.

  “I’ve gotta tell you, you must be something special!” Patty said in amazement.

  Consuela glared at her, communicating a silent warning to her. “Get everything in a bag for her.” Patty walked off, the other associate stared daggers at me.

  “I’ve been calling you!” Sarah yelled. Rachel looked like her patience was wearing thin. Stacks and stacks of clothes were in the baskets that she and Sarah held. “Well! Are you
ready to try on these clothes on or what?!”

  Rachel placed the baskets she held onto the floor. “There’s an eight item limit in the dress room.”

  CHAPTER 3

  Fortunately, the two hours it took me to try on all of the clothes coasted by. It probably would’ve been faster if I didn’t daydream about Mateja. Only a few of the slacks needed to be tailored and the jeans they chose for me fit well. When I tried to pay for the clothes myself, the cashier refused. Sarah tried to ask the associates a bunch of questions, but they were tight-lipped. I only agreed to Mateja’s indications when he was here; I intended to have my way once he left.

  After we quickly dropped off my shopping bags and my suitcases at Brayden’s apartment, Sarah took me to a nearby nail salon. While the ladies started on our feet and I settled my head to have a quick rest, a quick whistle, almost mirroring Brayden’s perfectly, got my attention.

  “Miss Becca.” Sarah shook her finger at me. “You’ve been holding out on me.” She cocked her head, batting her deep green eyes at me.

  I chuckled. “I am going to explain-“

  “You got yourself a sugar daddy and didn’t tell me.” She huffed, feigning anger. “I was gonna buy you a new wardrobe as your graduation gift, but now…you have no need for me!” She pouted and then twisted her lips.

  Focusing on my growing mortification, and the fact that I couldn’t stop the rising blush on my cheeks, I bit my lip. A thumb firmly massaged the instep of my foot, and I had to fight with myself not to kick the beautician in his face. I told her how Mateja approached me and that he ordered the store to charge everything to his account. However, I didn’t tell her about our heated kiss. I didn’t know if she would me or not.

  “That name sounds familiar. I can’t place it, though.” Sarah frowned. An employee handed her a glass of champagne. Quickly taking a small sip, she proceeded to lick her lips at me lasciviously. “Maybe a glass will get to you elaborate about this money dropper. Are you sure you don’t want a drink?”

  “It’s cool. I am going to hold out on a drink for now.”

  “You’re missing out ‘cause their champagne’s good. I bet they have good merlot here too.”

  “I am sure they do. They seem to have…everything,” I commented. “My first day back home is certainly not what I expected it to be!” I slanted my mouth with mirth, looking at the gleam in my eyes in the mirror directly across from me. “I’ve never seen him before. Everyone in the store looked at him like he was a god. He strode into the store like he was floating in the air.”

  Sarah laughed at me heartily. Composing herself, she eyed me curiously. “You’re as red as a beet!” Ripples of delight went through me as I recalled his voice and the way I fisted my shirt as he innocently placed his hands on Consuela’s shoulders.

  “He would make you blush too!”

  A deeper laugh rumbled from her chest. Unabashed that she attracted some attention our way, she started to make kissing noises. “Don’t try to redirect the focus on me, Becca! You liked that he paid attention to you and bought you a wardrobe that might rival mine.” She rolled her eyes. “Get over yourself! There’s nothing wrong with enjoying the kind deed of a gentleman,” she chided me.

  Once my feet were painted, I propped myself up with my elbow and sat by the dryer, waiting for my feet to dry and for a table to become available to get my manicure done. “I am not saying that I liked getting his attention…and the clothes. But come on. It’s random!” I sighed. “Besides, he doesn’t know me. Nothing’s for free. I have no way of contacting him to even express my gratitude.”

  Tapping her chin, she sighed contentedly. “So what? Random shit happens all of the time. And I am sure you can…express your gratitude.”

  “See! Nothing is done altruistically! He didn’t have to do anything for me!”

  “But he did because he felt like it. Stop overthinking this. When was the last time you had sex anyway?” She swigged the rest of her Champagne.

  “It’s been a while.”

  Sarah brought her arm to me and rubbed my shoulders. “Since Larissa’s death?” she asked gently.

  “Before then.”

  “Okay. There’s nothing to feel guilty about. I know you’re trying to work on yourself and get back into the swing of things, but you have other needs too. It’s only natural.” Noticing that I immediately became anxious, she frowned. “Becca.” She put her hands up.

  “I am not pushing anything on you. We all operate on our own timetable.”

  Sarah accepted her second glass of champagne. “Part of me feels like I don’t deserve to even think about having a sex life right now when Larissa isn’t here and didn’t have the care of a lover during her last days. It just seems selfish that I should have these—these desires when she’ll never have them again,” I admitted and paused at the thought. I instantly became more grateful that Brayden invited me to live with him in his apartment. It just felt too odd to go back home—to the memories that Larissa brought Brayden and I. She kept the house vibrant and lively.

  “I am trying to downplay the fact that Mateja is on my mind and I can’t. I just met the guy. We don’t even know anything substantial about each other”—In response to her arching one of her eyebrows, I continued—“Yeah, it appears that he can buy whatever he wants. That’s not much to go on.”

  Seated next to each other as the beauticians started on our manicures, I felt good about admitting my conflict to her.

  She snapped her fingers at me. “That’s a lot to go on,” she said. “At some point, you won’t be able to ignore your desires. Maybe you can’t now. It’s only natural; you have other needs too. Fighting it is just as anxiety provoking as being reckless with your sexuality.”

  Sarah majored in Business at a public college, surprising everyone by not attending one of the many private institutions that accepted her. The only child, her parents, Nancy and Oliver Davidson, met when they completed their doctorate degrees. After many failed romances, they didn’t think they’d ever fall in love again— until they met each other. Nancy called Sarah her “miracle baby” because she had her at thirty-seven years of age and Sarah was born healthy. Being doted on by her parents, she developed a great sense of herself. They supported all of her interests, knew most of her friends, and they approved of her dating my brother.

  She was like a second sister to me. We enjoyed spending time together. As soon as she and Brayden dated, she fit into the family very well—that is, until my mom became aware that their relationship would last longer than a week.

  ***

  Brayden’s apartment in upper Manhattan was cozy. The air smelled like buttered popcorn. There was a long hall stretched from my left to my right. The kitchen was located directly across from the door. To the left of the kitchen, there was a square shaped glass table. Two chairs were on each side of it. Warm colored paintings hung on the walls, two small paintings on each side, one of a summer country house, one showed the back of a child with his hand on the back of a dog, and two pictures of a sunset in different settings. Definitely, Sarah’s touch.

  Thick and bulky arms engulfed me. My face was pressed onto muscular pectorals. Releasing himself from me, Brayden held me at an arms length and looked happy to see me.

  He wore a blue short-sleeved button down shirt, black slacks and black swede loafers with his blazer draped over his arm. If I didn’t know better, I would’ve sworn that he came from an important meeting. My older brother had grown up so much, no longer scrawny and lanky at six feet two. It would be difficult not to notice his light blue eyes or his well-shaped dark blond that hair framed his angular jawline so perfectly. His voice had a deep baritone edge to it. I couldn’t believe it. I used to tower over him and have more muscle mass than him.

  “My baby sister is home!”

  I laughed a little at the dramatic way he greeted me. “It’s good to see you...too.” I never thought I’d feel sentimental towards Brayden. But I did.

  “This is it.” I tur
ned to meet his small smile and took another look at his apartment.

  We went through the other open space of the kitchen. There were three doors, all painted pitch black. Brayden led me to the biggest room, the living room. It was nice. It had a 42-inch flat screen TV mounted on the wall, a black painted counter right underneath it and four black leather sofas, a green futon, and a foosball table in the corner.

  “Becca, do you like it?”

  “It’s perfect.”

  Brayden took me to the room to the left of the living room; surprisingly, it was a little bigger than the closet in my dorm room. The walls were white and there was a twin-sized bed, with a dark peach colored plastic bed board. The sheets and the pillowcases were a zigzag pattern with blue, orange, and various green colors. Next to the bed, there was an antique looking desk, the one I had since pre-school, to place no more than a small item on. I loved that desk.

  “The sheets and pillows are brand new. Sarah told me you’d like this pattern.” He sighed and his face softened as he looked down at me. “I thought it was…interesting.”

 

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