by Beth Michele
She turns her head and smiles, and I know she feels it too. I reach out, threading our fingers together, and she looks down at our hands before returning her attention to the screen. Her lips curl at the corners, my heart racing in response.
It’s a good thing I’ve seen this movie, because I couldn’t have recalled one single detail. The only thing I do have memorized is the girl sitting beside me, who stands up and stretches now that the show is over.
“That was awesome!” She tosses her empty box of popcorn into the trash on the way out. “Didn’t you think?”
“Yeah, it was great.”
We follow the hoards of people back through the lobby and out into the night. The sky is filled with stars and the New York City streets are buzzing with energy. As much as I miss Boston sometimes, there’s something about this city that makes me feel alive.
“So, what do you want to do now?” I casually slide my hand over, twining are fingers together again. I’m not usually one for holding hands, but I can’t not touch her.
“I don’t know. Let’s just walk. It’s a beautiful night. So,” she pauses, “did you ever make out in a movie theater when you were younger?”
“Hell, yes.”
“Geez, don’t hold back.” She giggles, her lips edged with sarcasm.
“Hey, you asked. It was ninth grade with Emily Sanchez. Kind of hard to forget. It was the first time a girl’s hand had wandered down to the promised land.”
Her head falls back as she laughs. “The promised land?”
“Fuck, yes. What about you?”
“No. I never did, but always wanted to,” she says, sounding regretful.
“Well, you’re about thirty minutes too late. All you had to do was say something and I would have obliged. I could’ve been your first.”
The twinkle in her eye when she turns to the side tells me she wants to say something else, but instead I’m on the receiving end of a comfortable silence as we continue strolling the streets of Manhattan.
We walk a few more blocks until a small shop comes into view, the display window filled with cakes and a variety of pastries. Vanessa stops to admire the sweets, and I think I see her mouth frothing at the corners.
“You want to go in?”
“What gave it away? My longing looks at the chocolate croissant,” she teases, and I grab her, tugging her up against my body, swallowing any distance between us.
“You. Are. Feisty,” I breathe out, my eyes lowering to her lips, tongue anxious to taste her again. But I hold back. After the fucked up comments at my apartment, I want her to know that she means more to me than just my physical attraction to her. “Come on, feisty. Let’s go in so you can get your fix.”
After ordering some dessert, we take a seat at a table for two by the window. I watch in amusement as she eats her croissant slowly, picking it apart as if it were a frog in biology class back in high school.
“I went to see my therapist,” I blurt out, taken aback by my blunt admission.
She pushes her plate to the center of the table, giving me her undivided attention. “Oh? How did that go?”
“Good. She confirmed what I’ve always known. That I’m crazier than a shithouse owl.”
“What?” She laughs. “What does that mean?”
“I don’t have a fucking clue. It’s something I heard my father say once when I was a kid and it kind of stuck with me.” I pick at the cake with my fork, thinking about my dad.
“Hey.” The soft tone of her voice draws my eyes up. “I’m sorry… about what you told me about who your real father was. That had to turn your life upside down when you found out.”
“Yeah.” All that shit comes back to me, remembering just how fucked up I was, and how I made sure everyone around me felt it. “I was a mess. Lashed out at everyone. It was Hunter who finally put me in check. Made me own up to my shit. Kind of like you,” I tease, tapping her leg with mine under the table. Although I’m not sure she realizes how serious I am. “Whatever though, you know. It’s not easy for me, but I’m trying to work through the fucked-upness of my past.”
“The fucked-upness?” She giggles, twisting her leg around mine, and I like feeling this connected to her. “I guess I have a bit of that too.”
“Have you talked to your parents?”
Her posture stiffens the moment I bring them up. She stares down at her coffee, picking at the edge of the cup with her fingernail.
“No. Not since my mother’s call about her getting remarried. I haven’t heard from my dad in a few months.”
“That stinks.” I reach for her free hand, hoping I can give her some sense of comfort. I don’t think I’m very good at this kind of stuff, but I’m trying.
“It is what it is. Honestly, I’m really grateful for the people that are in my life now. Those are the ones that matter.”
“Does that include me?” I ask, finding myself holding in a breath.
“Yeah, Rex, it does.” She glances up from her drink at long last, giving me an amazing view of her eyes, complete and utter sincerity filling their blue depths.
“Good. Hey,” I scrub my free hand across my chin, “I—I know I’m not all that great with this communication stuff, but I want you to know I’m working on it. Just fair warning, though, I might fuck up sometimes.”
She stands up and rounds the table, taking a seat in my lap. Her fingers weave through my hair as she rests her forehead against mine. “You can be so sweet, Rex,” she breathes out, giving me a brief kiss. Her lips are soft and supple, and I relish the way she feels against me. All too soon though, she pulls away, and I want her back.
I want her everywhere.
“Let’s go.”
Since she’s already on my lap, I decide to carry her out the door, wanting to keep my arms around her for as long as possible.
“What are you doing?” she squeals, one of my hands on her ass and the other around her back.
“What does it look like? I’m trying to cop a feel,” I joke, and she shakes her head, laughing, her silky hair flapping against my face.
“Are you intent on carrying me the entire way to my apartment?” Her cheeks rise with her smile and she’s so damn adorable.
“You know I’ve got the stamina.” I wink, squeezing her ass. It’s kind of hard not to when it’s right under my hand.
“Yes, that you do,” she says with a knowing grin, just as I set her down gently on the ground.
“That’s it?” She puts her hands on her hips, feigning frustration.
“Well, truth be told, you’re kind of heavy.”
“Ahh! You sure know a way to a girl’s heart,” she huffs, stomping off playfully, and I catch up to her, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her to my side.
By the time we make it back to her building, she’s yawning like crazy. It’s only eleven but yesterday was probably exhausting for her. As much as I don’t want the night to end, I know it has to.
“So, you know you’re not getting any tonight, right?” she deadpans, standing in front of the door to her apartment.
I let out a low chuckle, pivoting to face her, rolling the ends of her hair between my fingers. “I already got what I came for.”
“Oh really, and what’s that?”
“I got to see you smile again,” I whisper, and she jerks her chin up, mouth falling open. Edging closer, I let my thumb graze her bottom lip, and she shivers as I drop a kiss on the corner of her mouth. “Goodnight,” I murmur, strutting off toward the elevator. But then I remember something and turn back. “Hey, Blondie?” I call out, just as she’s putting her key in the lock.
“Yeah?”
“I just realized I didn’t tell you how beautiful you looked tonight.”
And then I make my grand exit, walking off with a lightness in my chest and the memory of the beaming smile I just left on her face.
The sun’s rays pour through the curtains, swaying with a gentle breeze that tickles my face—and I smile. I guess that’s what
one night with Rex Grayson will do to a girl. And he’s definitely doing something to me. Butterflies somersault in my belly when I think about our date, all the sweet things he said, how hard he’s trying. Just that fact alone is good enough for me. He wants to make an effort, which means he wants to see where this can lead.
I stretch my rested arms out to the side. Sleep came easy to me last night. Even though I had other things on my mind. As much as I wanted to drag Rex into my apartment and maul him, I’m glad I maintained some semblance of self-control.
A reminder tone sounds on my phone and for the life of me, I can’t recall what I need to be reminded of this morning. That is, until I slide my phone off the nightstand and see the words Here comes the bride, quickly reinforcing where I’m supposed to be—at Josie’s Bridal, meeting Olivia.
“Shit!” I yell out loud, before scrambling out of bed to get ready at lightning speed, throwing on whatever clothes I can find, and drawing my hair up in a ponytail. I won’t even have time to get a coffee. That’s how late I am.
When I show up at the shop, Olivia is just beyond the entrance tapping her foot, arms huddled close to her chest. I probably screwed up her appointment and now she’ll have to reschedule.
“Hey, Liv!” I shout, enthusiastically, trying to distract from my tardiness. She knows I don’t make a habit of being late, quite the opposite actually, so I’m not sure why she’s so upset.
“You know you were supposed to be here forty-five minutes ago, right?” she bites back, and I’m also not used to seeing her so edgy. That’s usually my role in our friendship.
“Wait, aren’t I usually the bitchy one in this relationship?” I make a lame attempt at a joke but her lips don’t budge. “What’s wrong with you? You seem stressed.”
“And you seem happy,” she utters miserably before slumping down in a red velvet chair.
I take a seat next to her, resting a hand on her arm. “What is it? Did you and Hunter have a fight?”
“No.” She lowers her chin to her chest, and that’s when I see the tears falling freely down her cheeks onto her blouse.
“Hey,” I murmur softly. “What’s going on? Talk to me, Liv.”
“What if Hunter cheats on me?” she sobs, sinking even lower into the chair as if she wants it to swallow her up.
“What are you talking about? Hunter is head over heels in love with you. It’s disgusting actually,” I joke, and she lets out a tiny laugh through her misery. “Listen, I know years ago your ex-fiancé, who shall remain unnamed, cheated on you with a bimbo, but he was a complete douchebag. Hunter isn’t like that. End of story.”
“You really think so?” she says in a barely there voice, tear-filled eyes peering up at me.
“Of course I do. You know what this is? This is just nerves, and I know exactly what will cure it.”
“What?” she asks, sprinkles of hope for a remedy clear in her eyes.
“A trip to Victoria’s Secret, what else?” And I start laughing, thankful when she joins in. I pull some tissue out of my purse and blot her tears away. “Come on.” I tug on her hand. “We’ve got wedding dresses to try on.”
Four hours and twenty-five dresses later, she’s found the most beautiful gown. So beautiful in fact, that as she’s trying it on I feel an unwelcome tear building in the corner of my eye.
Suddenly overwhelmed, my stomach clenches tight, steeped in yearning. After everything I saw my parents go through—a nonexistent love, an affectionless marriage—never in a million years would I have thought I’d want to share my life with someone. But somehow, I feel hopeful, like maybe there’s a chance for me after all.
I rise up from the chair and walk over to Olivia, gently touching her shoulders and shifting her away from the full-length mirror to face me. “You look absolutely beautiful, Liv. Wait until Hunter sees you. Honestly, you look like you just walked right out of a fairy tale.”
“And you look….” Narrowed blue eyes scrutinize me. “Dare I say… happy?”
“I saw Rex last night,” I confess with a sheepish grin.
“I knew it! It’s about fucking time!”
The bridal consultant clucks her tongue, distaste clear in her expression, unable to reconcile the foul mouth belonging to the body donning the elegant dress.
“He was so sweet, Liv.” I flip my ponytail around my finger. “He seems to want to try—I don’t know—to see if this could be anything.”
She lays a hand on my cheek. “Well, of course he wants to try. Because it’s you, and you’re worth it. I’m glad you’re letting him in. I know it’s not easy for you to do.”
“That’s the odd thing,” I go on, turning her around and helping to unfasten the pearl buttons on the back of the dress. “It seems easy with him for some reason. I don’t even recognize who I am when I’m with him.”
“Here,” the sales clerk interrupts, “let me help you with the rest of those buttons.”
I step out of their way when my cell phone pings. My purse is sitting in the corner of the dressing room so I make my way over to retrieve it, grinning like an idiot when I see it’s a text from Rex.
I’ve been thinking about you all morning.
Really?
REALLY. I don’t know why I didn’t kiss you last night.
Me either.
Do you want to come over tonight and make out?
“Oh my God!” I laugh, and Olivia spins around.
“Everything okay?”
“Yes, fine,” I say through a fit of giggles before I type back eagerly.
Can I bring my popcorn?
Yes.
Absolutely then.
Now I won’t be able to concentrate the rest of the day because I’ll be thinking about your lips.
Hmmmm.
Don’t do that. I have to work here.
Sorry.
Come by at 8.
Okay.
I’m about to throw the phone back in my bag when it chimes again.
Can’t wait to see you, baby.
How can six typewritten words make my pulse dance under my skin? I type back two, hoping they have the same effect.
Me too.
“All set?” Olivia smiles as she walks up to me, glancing back at her dress hanging on the wall.
“Yes.” I nudge her shoulder then take her hand in mine. “Let’s go admire your dress one more time before we go, shall we?”
“Splendid idea,” she replies, and we do a slow stroll up to the gown. “I love it so much.” She runs her hands over the silky fabric. “The subtle beading and the way it’s off the shoulders and cuts in at the waist, but then flares out at the bottom.”
“Me too. It’s classy yet very sexy.” Then something occurs to me. “Wait, what about the train?” I ask, surprised it doesn’t have one. “You didn’t want one?”
“Well,” she says with a gleam in her eye, “it would be kind of hard to walk on the sand with a long train.”
I scrunch my nose up and my eyebrows follow. “Sand, what are you talking about?”
She lets out a happy sigh. “I kind of forgot to tell you that Hunter and I are going to get married on a private beach in Hawaii.”
Disappointment pulls my mouth down into a frown, wanting to be there to see my best friend get married. “Oh.”
“Why the long face? You’re coming too,” she adds, and I grab her and hug her so tight, my purse digs into her arm.
I pull back, shaking my head. “That was pure evil.”
She giggles. “I know, but I had to do it. And the look on your face was priceless. Do you honestly think I wouldn’t have my best friend there on the most important day of my life? After all, I can’t very well get married without my maid of honor, now can I?”
“Liv….” I start to talk but my words are cut off by a swell of emotion that I force back down so I can continue. “I don’t know what to say. But I guess I’m saying yes, even though you’re not really asking me.” I let out a laugh that turns into a sigh. “Hawaii,” I s
ay dreamily. “I’ve never been.”
“Hunter is flying anyone out who I want to be there. He’s just amazing.” Her voice exudes nothing but love and admiration. “You, my family, Rex of course,” she says, grinning wickedly.
The picture in my mind elicits an uncontrollable twitch from my lips: the sun gleaming off the golden sand, snow-capped waves crashing onto the shore, my hair swaying in the salty breeze—and Rex.
Sounds like paradise to me.
I asked her if she wanted to make out? I’m acting like a fucking teenager who’s never had a hard-on before in his life. We know that couldn’t be further from the truth.
But the reality is, I don’t even recognize myself when I’m with her. It’s like some alien being has taken over my brain and I can’t be held responsible for what comes out of my mouth. That should probably piss me off in some way. But surprisingly it doesn’t.
“Rex, fucking awesome, man,” Scottie says, admiring his tattoo, dragging me back down to earth. “That makes four you’ve done for me since you’ve been here.”
“Should I expect you back next month for number five?” I joke, and he rubs his bald scalp, contemplating my question.
“I’m not sure. I’d like to, but my wife would probably divorce me. She told me the first two were hot, but now she thinks I’m going a bit overboard.” He stands up and checks out the skull on his bicep. “She may not like this one, but I fucking love it. Thanks, man.”
“Sure. Let me get it wrapped up, then you can get the hell out of here and so can I,” I tease, and he chuckles, his round belly shaking with the sound. But I’m not really joking. The rush of adrenaline pumping through my veins tells me there’s somewhere important I need to be.
Thankfully, I get back to my building with a half hour to spare. It’s a shithole as usual, and I’d like to get it picked up a bit before Vanessa arrives.