by Nikki Blythe
“Hey, I’m almost to work, I better let y’all go,” I said to my friends.
“Have a good day, Cedar!” Kyra said. “Call us if you need us to bail. Ivy is very convincing when she has to pretend there’s a crisis!”
“How many times have you made her call and bail you out of situations?” I asked, laughing.
“Enough to know she’s better at it than Lizzie,” she replied. “Lizzie couldn’t manage to fake cry if her life depended on it. She’s too honest.”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing!” Elizabeth protested in her sweet voice.
“It is. You’re useless in that regard,” Kyra laughed.
“On that note, ladies,” I interrupted. “I’ll talk to y’all in a bit. I’ll send you text updates so you know I haven’t gone off the deep end or whatever.”
I peered around me as I spoke. I hated talking on the phone in public. It always felt so rude.
The girls bid me goodbye, and we all hung up.
I maneuvered my way through the door and into the shop until I found the line. I stood patiently, waiting my turn. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a man staring at me. He was tall, tattooed, and wearing a black t-shirt that gripped his muscles fiercely. My jaw dropped slightly, but I popped my mouth closed and resumed staring straight ahead. I couldn’t let myself be distracted by some strange man.
No matter how beautiful he was.
When I got to the counter, I couldn’t quite decide on which smoothie I wanted, so I decided to get both the mango peach and the green goddess smoothies. I figured I’d drink one now and then save one in the fridge at work. Or maybe give it to Bethany.
A wave of guilt crashed over me as I realized I should have gotten my assistant something.
As I waited for my order to be completed, I pulled my headphones from my purse and turned on some music to get my blood flowing.
If only I had known that it wouldn’t be music that got my blood hot.
As soon as they called my name, I stepped forward to grab my smoothies. With one enormous cup in each hand, I turned and meandered through the crowd of people, which had doubled by that point, I could have sworn.
I walked out the front door and turned to the left to continue on my way to work, but I didn’t get very far.
I suddenly collided with a large mass of black t-shirt and tattoos—the same man I’d only just been lusting after. The smoothies, once safely in their cups, were suddenly a part of my outfit, and the cold, thick liquid had found its way into my bra, and down into the front of my yoga pants.
“What… the fuck?!” I shrieked. “Why is today such a fucking shit show?!”
I pulled my shirt away from my skin and groaned. I’d have to go all the way home and change before I could go to work.
No, I reminded myself. I have a change of clothes at the studio.
I glanced up at the tattooed wall I had hit on the way out of the café, and I met his green eyes. He looked apologetic, but there was something else there. He stood stiffly, as if bracing himself for something. He was even more attractive up close, and my eye was drawn to the chiseled jaw, and the intense lines that his muscles made beneath the tight shirt he wore.
I had the strange desire to run my fingers down his chest, and maybe a little further. I shook my head to rid myself of the thought as I scanned him up and down. He appeared to be free of the goop that adorned my entire body.
Lucky bastard.
“Well, are you going to say anything?” I asked sharply. My tone probably came out harsher than I intended, but I was angry in the moment.
“I—uhm,” he stuttered.
I cocked an eyebrow at him. I had to look up to meet his eyes, but I had no compunction about doing so.
“I’m sorry,” he said finally.
I was taken aback. I expected his voice to be deep, but I didn’t expect it to be meek.
“Oh, it’s all right,” I said, looking down at the blending yellow and green liquids. “It could have been worse.”
“Could it have been?” He asked, and I detected a genuine curiosity in his question.
“Yeah, it’s all my fault anyway, I should have been watching where I was going,” I sighed.
“I should have been paying more attention, too,” he said softly. “Is there anything I can do?”
“Ah, no. Unless you have a time machine or a transporter?” I suggested hopefully.
He laughed. My heart skipped a beat.
What a beautiful laugh, I thought.
It was warm, like a picnic at the park on a warm spring day, but it seemed a bit unused. It was almost as if he was uneasy about laughing at all.
I was just about to say something when he suddenly walked away. I was left standing in the street, covered in sweet, sticky, pulped fruit, and he had just left.
Chapter Three
Neville
Shit. Shit. Shit.
As my laughter died down, I realized that I needed to do something about the poor woman’s clothes. I was so tired and wasn’t paying any attention to what I was doing or where I was going, so of course I barreled straight into her.
She was the reason I was so distracted in the first place. When I saw her in line, waiting to place her order, it had been as if the sun itself had descended into the room. She lit up the world around her, with her blonde hair and wide smile. I couldn’t help but notice the way her yoga pants hugged the curve of her backside, as well. But then she had locked eyes with me for the briefest of moments. Her blue irises, even at that distance, had entranced me. The way the dark blue faded to white just as they hit the pupil made it feel as if I had fallen down a well.
I rubbed my sweaty palms against my jeans as I walked into the coffee shop. I asked the barista if he had a wet cloth I could use, and he nodded. He reached behind the counter and grabbed a red bucket full of rags in water. I grabbed a single cloth from the container and rung it out.
“Bit of bad luck you’ve had just now.”
He nodded towards the bright windows, through which I could see the woman I just made a mess of. She blinked, confused for a few moments, gaping at the storefront, and then started walking away. Icy dread filled my chest as I thought of the possibility of never finding her again. If she walked too fast, she could have slipped out of sight, never to be seen again.
I couldn’t have that.
“No shit,” I muttered. “I’ll bring this back!” I called as I ran out the door.
“Wait, miss!” I hollered as the woman stalked away from the coffee shop, flicking wet bits of fruit from her clothing.
She paused and turned. She narrowed her eyes as I approached, and the apparent disdain on her face almost made me turn tail and run.
“I just ran inside to get a towel,” I said. “I made such a mess of your outfit, I wanted to do something to help.”
I watched as her blue eyes softened from distrust and melted into gratitude. She took the proffered wet rag and began wiping her shirt down.
“Thank you,” she said after most of the smoothie was gone. “You’re so sweet. I was just going to change clothes at my studio, but this is preferable. I still have a few blocks to go, and it is a bit cold,” she laughed, and as if to prove her point, a gust of wind rolled down the street.
Her laugh sent warmth through my body despite the chill, and all of my muscles unclenched. I didn’t realize I had been mentally preparing for a tirade from her until that moment. As it was, all I could do was laugh with her. We must have looked absurd, two strangers standing in the street, one covered in green and yellow stains, laughing maniacally. I had to admit, part of what had me laughing was the release of tension coupled with sheer exhaustion.
“What’s your name?” I asked, as our giggles subsided.
“Cedar,” she smiled.
What a lovely smile. It was so genuine. The curve of her lips met tiny dimples, and her eyes sparkled. The sprinkling of freckles on her cheeks gave her an air of sun-kissed beauty, of carefree bliss. It was
hard to look away.
I held out my hand. “My name is Neville. Can I walk with you? I’m headed that way, anyway.”
I gestured in the direction she had been walking when I stopped her.
“Sure, I’d love the company. Do you work down this way?”
“I do, I own that tattoo parlor a couple streets over, and I live just around the corner from there.”
“Oh! The one next to the florist? I love that place! She always gives me awesome deals. I’ve always wanted to check out your parlor and get a tattoo, but the time hasn’t presented itself to me yet. Maybe I’ll stop in someday,” she grinned.
“Oh, you should, for sure. You said you were on your way to a studio? Do you own one of the art galleries over here?”
“No,” she said, and I couldn’t help but focus on her voice, how soft and sweet it was. “I own the new yoga studio on 8th Street.”
“No way!” I said in surprise. “You know, I’ve often thought of taking up yoga. Is it really as relaxing as they say it is?”
We reached a crosswalk, and I moved to press the button for our light. Cars whizzed past as we waited. The city, which had been calm and still in the early morning, was bustling now as more people made their way into the small downtown area for work and shopping.
“It can be,” Cedar called over the cacophony of the traffic. “I find it to be both exhausting and relaxing at the same time, but then I teach it all day.”
She shot me a smirk, and I swear I should have melted into a pile of goo, if the weakness in my knees was any indication.
She was, in every measurable way, different than Faith. I knew I shouldn’t compare, exactly, but it was hard not to, given our argument the night before.
It wasn’t lost on me that had I caused two smoothies to spill all over Faith’s clothes, I’d have been yelled at for at least an hour, before she gave me days of the silent treatment. Quite probably, Faith would have simply ruined some of my clothes to get even. Maybe something more expensive, as she knew I didn’t really care about my clothing. I owned a guitar once, but in a fit of rage, she had thrown in from the balcony after I accidentally broke a small Fabergé egg. I doubted the thing was even real, but that didn’t matter to Faith. She paid a lot of money for it, so I had to pay in return.
But Cedar had laughed. The only time she seemed upset was when I disappeared without a word, and I could understand that. I hadn’t told her I would help her, and just disappeared without so much as a, “be right back.”
Cedar and I walked and talked for a few minutes until we reached her studio, which amazingly enough was only right around the corner from my own parlor and apartment.
As she talked about her new business, I got lost in the way the early morning sunlight hit her blonde hair, reflecting on the tiny golden strands. I found myself wanting to caress that hair, to take it in my hands and pull her close to press my lips firmly against hers.
I shook my head. No, I was in a relationship, I had Faith. I should be having those thoughts about her.
But, a small voice reminded me. You are planning on leaving Faith, anyway. It’s not a crime to find another woman attractive.
We found ourselves standing in front of her studio door, and I smiled gently. “Look, if you ever do find the time, here’s my card. Come see me and we’ll get your tattoo sorted out. I’ll even give you a discount because I ruined your outfit,” I winked.
She laughed, and a balloon inflated in my gut. I realized I would do anything to hear that laugh again. I found myself mentally willing her to one day come into the parlor, to let me sit there with her for hours so we could talk, and so that I could hear that beautiful laugh again. To my surprise, Cedar dug into her purse and pulled a slightly smoothie-stained business card from one of the pockets. She grabbed a pen from the same pocket and scrawled a number on the back of the card before handing it to me.
“Here. Just give me a call, or drop into one of my classes someday, if you want to find out just how relaxing yoga is. I even offer private classes, if you’re the shy sort.”
The way she said that made me think she knew I wasn’t that shy, but she was testing me.
“Sounds good,” I said. “I’ll have to give you a call some time.”
“I wrote my cell phone number on the back, in case you want to call me on a private number. The number on the front goes to my front desk, and my assistant Bethany is the nosy sort,” she laughed.
Was she suggesting we talk more privately? My heart raced at the possibility of getting to know this woman on a deeper level. Sans smoothie covered clothing and uncomfortable time crunches, of course.
“I’ll definitely keep that in mind,” I said. “Here, hand me my card back. I’ll give you my cell, too. That way it’s fair,” I winked.
I wrote my number as neatly as I could manage with her smoothie-covered pen and handed both back to her.
“I look forward to talking to you again,” I said. “It was truly lovely to meet you, Cedar.”
Cedar just smiled, unlocked the door of her studio, and walked inside. She gave me a tiny wave which I returned in kind, and then she was gone, having disappeared into the depths of the building.
I stood on the sidewalk for a moment after that, in awe of the turn of events the morning had taken. What did this mean, that I was so attracted to her? Was it just the result of her kindness? Had that made me imprint on her like a baby lamb? I couldn’t tell, but I definitely wanted to get to know more of her.
I looked down and realized I was still holding the borrowed wet rag from the coffee shop. I sighed and made my way back up the street so I could return it. I doubt they cared, but I wanted to use the time to think.
For the past few years, I had been dreading the moment when I would have to leave Faith, dreading the possibility of her tantrum, her ire. She would be very angry, and I didn’t have it in me to deal with that. Not to mention, I didn’t really know how far Faith might take things if I were to dump her. She’d tried to kill herself the last time, but maybe that was all an act. Or many she could go further and kill us both. All I really knew was that I needed to get out of that relationship as soon as was safe.
Despite knowing that, and despite all the preparations I had made between saving for a new apartment, and keeping an emergency bag packed and ready to go, I was still afraid of what leaving Faith would mean for my future.
Also, I didn’t want to view another relationship as my lifeline to getting out of my current one. At the same time, though, I couldn’t stop thinking about Cedar. She seemed like a genuinely sweet person, and I wanted to get to know her better. I wanted to have more of her in my life, even if that only meant we were friends. I could deal with that.
Besides, I needed more positive interactions with friends in my life. Faith had isolated me from so many of my old friends from high school and college, so I had to start somewhere. I wondered what Levi would think about Cedar. He never kept it a secret from me that he despised Faith and he frequently offered to let me stay at his place if I broke up with her, but I had never taken him up on that offer. Until recently, I never really realized just how bad things were. I had been living under the delusion that everything with Faith was great, and that what we went through was something all couples had to deal with. I mean, look at so many television shows that depict women throwing things at their husbands, or flying off the handle at the smallest of slights. I thought Faith’s behavior was normal.
Then, one day when I walked into work, Levi had printed out two lists. One list was of signs that your significant other is emotionally abusing you, the other showed signs that you were a victim of physical abuse. I had shrugged the lists off at first, proclaiming that Faith was just a strong-willed woman, and that I just needed to be better for her. After Levi had left for lunch though, I read the list and was startled at the realization that I was in a very toxic relationship.
Since I was on the way out of that relationship anyway, what harm could it do to get to know another
person? It wasn’t like there was any guarantee that Cedar would even look at me in that way, anyway.
Cedar’s smile floated past my memory, and I decided to go ahead and save her number in my phone. Maybe I could send her a text, just so she had my cell number, in case I wrote it down wrong. That sticky pen didn’t exactly make for the most legible of handwriting, after all.
I pulled my phone from my pocket and opened my contacts list. I pulled her business card from my pocket, flipped it over to the back where she had written her cell number, and went to create a new contact.
Just as I was entering her name, however, a call came through.
Faith.
A lump formed in my throat, and my mouth ran dry. She knew. No, she couldn’t have known. That was impossible, was it? What if she had put a tracking app on my phone somehow?
I let the phone ring in my hands for a moment, unsure of what would greet me once I answered. Almost too late, I slid the green circle to answer the call.
“Hello,” I croaked.
I was exhausted, and it hit me in that moment how much I needed sleep.
“Neville?” Came Faith’s shrill voice. “Where are you?”
“I went to grab coffee, I’ll be home shortly.”
Silence, then a sigh.
“Fine, I just wanted to check on you. I’m sorry about last night,” she whispered.
“You are?” I asked in surprise.
She hardly ever apologized.
“I am. I know you work hard, and I was being unfair.”
I stopped in front of the café and crossed one arm under the elbow of the arm holding my phone. I still held the wet rag in my spare hand. “You were, but I understand why you’re frustrated. We’ll talk it out later, all right?”