by Beth Michele
The sun feels amazing, but I need to make sure I don’t burn. California girl or not, my fair skin burns easily. “Brad, can you rub some sunscreen on my back?” I’d like him to do my front too, but unfortunately, I can reach there.
“It’s a tough job, but someone’s got to do it,” he says wickedly. The blistering sun and the feel of his fingers gliding over my shoulders in circular motions are causing tiny little prickles all over my skin.
Brad leans into my ear and I feel his hot breath. “Turn over so I can do your stomach.” I nearly fall to pieces at his words. His eyes never leave mine as he rubs lotion all over my belly. His touch is driving me crazy, and definitely not the asylum kind. In a minute, I’m going to pull him on top of me without a care for anyone else on the beach. He leans over me, running his long fingers down the side of my face, and then moves his lips over mine, slowly and deliberately. The sensation of his wet mouth, the salty air, and the sound of the waves fills me with desire. When he lifts his lips from mine, he blows out a breath that cools my searing skin. He tilts his head and gives me a devious grin. “I think we need to go in the water to cool off…like, now.”
My lips turn down in a pout. “I’m not ready to go in just yet.”
He smiles again, but this time says nothing. Instead, he lifts me up over his muscular shoulder and I squirm as he carries me into the cold sea. My hands slap his back while my feet hang in mid-air.
“Ahhhh…put me down! Brad! Put me down!”
He just holds on tighter until we get further into the water and he throws me wildly against the waves.
“You’re going to pay for that!” I warn with a lighthearted tone that burns with playful revenge.
There’s that magnetic smile. “Oh, I hope so, baby, I hope so.”
We splash each other until there are no splashes left, only hysterical laughter and abundant smiles. Brad pulls me close and grasps handfuls of my soaking wet hair and I let my tongue venture into the depths of his mouth, both of us pulled in by the ocean’s seductive charms.
I can’t resist Brad, but mix Brad with the fresh scent of the ocean, the summer breeze, and the sand between my toes and I’m powerless. Our hands wander up and down each other’s bodies and I feel him grab my ass and bring me in so close I can feel his erection through the thin cotton of his swim trunks. I want him so badly, but as much as making love on the beach is a fantasy of mine, I don’t feel like fulfilling everyone else’s fantasy today. With that, I pull back abruptly and push him down in the water. He needs to cool off.
It was a perfect day, and as exhaustion settles over me, I can only think of one thing right now that would make this day more perfect. Climbing into bed with Brad.
We’re on the stairs up to my apartment, Brad and I are giggling hysterically like twelve-year-olds, until we get closer to the door. All laughter is halted by the sound of Fran’s screaming voice.
“Get your hands off of me, and get the fuck out of here! I told you I never wanted to see you again!”
Jesus. My hands fumble for the keys, but Brad doesn’t wait. He uses every bit of force he has to kick the door open, finding Fran in the clutches of an older man. A tall, graying, fierce man. It can only be one person. Fran’s dad.
Brad pipes up immediately. “Didn’t you hear what she said? She said take your hands off of her!”
“Who the fuck are you?” Fran’s dad bites out.
When Brad sees Fran crying, he springs into action. Just like a freaking superhero. My superhero. He grabs Fran’s dad by the arm to pull him away and gets knocked against the wall, hard. I panic. Brad’s hurt, Fran’s shaking, and there’s a psychotic asshole in our apartment. I vaguely hear Brad mumble “call the police,” and I start digging furiously for my cell phone.
When Fran’s dad hears the word “police,” his posture suddenly changes. He bolts for the door, but not before he eyes Fran one last time. “I’m your father, Franny. I deserve to be in your life, and this isn’t over; not by a long shot.”
As her father disappears out the door, I’m left with the pain of the two people I care about most. My instincts tell me to go to Fran first, but the need to see if Brad’s okay pulls me in his direction. I run over to him. “Are you okay, babe?”
“I’m fine, baby. Go take care of Fran.”
I walk over to Fran. She’s shaking violently and tears are staining her cheeks.
“Jesus Fran, come here.” I wrap my arms around her and hold her tightly, wishing I could take this one thing away for her. The one thing that almost destroyed her life. I walk her into her bedroom and tuck her under the false security of her blanket, press my lips to her forehead, and send her off to a troubled sleep. “I’m here if you need me.” I pick up the cell phone off her nightstand and leave Kyle a message to come over as soon as he can.
When I come out of the bedroom, Brad is still leaning against the wall. His head is back and his eyes are closed. I grab an icepack from the fridge, sprint over, and gently hold his face in my hands. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“I’m fine,” he repeats, reaching for my hand.
“You’re absolutely insane, you know that?” I say, letting out a huge sigh and pressing the ice pack to his jaw. “You know, I already believed you were a superhero, you didn’t have to go out of your way to freaking prove it to me.” Brad tries to smile, but winces. “Seriously, I’m so sorry you got caught up in all this. Her dad is crazy, and you could’ve been seriously hurt.”
His lips turn up slightly. “All in a day’s work, Lois.”
***
After the nightmare with Fran’s dad, we somehow managed to get through the week, although Fran has been in a funk since last weekend. She definitely needs a fun night out. I also need a fun night out to prepare for my mom’s arrival tomorrow. Instead of our usual Friday night bar escapades, we decide to play pool. It was actually Kyle’s idea and Brad is pumped for a little competition. Little do they know, Fran and I know our way around a pool table. Back in college, Fran, Clark, and I used to hang out and play pool…a lot. Clark and a couple of his friends taught us to play, and while we’re no sharks, we’re more versed than the average girl. We know how to break and we certainly know how to sink balls; not to mention, we’re masters of distraction! This should be interesting. Very interesting.
When we arrive at the pool hall, Fran and Kyle already have a table. As we walk over to the table, I whisper to Brad, “I can hold my own with a cue, so be forewarned.”
Brad’s eyebrows lift and he grins. “I was hoping.” Then he pinches my ass. Oh, this is definitely going to be fun.
We’re playing girls vs. guys and I watch their surprise as Fran nails the break, sinking two balls right off the bat. We call stripes and continue to sink balls, another two before Fran miscues. When it goes back to them, I’m eyeing Brad as he leans over the table. He looks so hot, and him bending over the table is giving me a lot of ideas. He raises his head and catches me in mid-stare, puckers his lips, and grins.
When he comes back around the table, he leans in and nibbles at my earlobe and I melt. “Baby, I hope you like what you see.”
I definitely like flirty Brad. Two can play this game. I slink past him and chalk my cue ever so slowly, fully aware that Brad’s watching my every move. I lean way over to take the shot, making sure he gets an eyeful of cleavage. I hear a sudden choking sound and know I’ve succeeded.
Fran and I are about to win when Kyle looks over at Brad. “I don’t know about you, man, but I think we’re being hustled. These beautiful ladies have definitely played pool before.” Just then, Fran leans over to take a shot, her breasts poke out from her yellow blouse and Kyle beams. “Actually, I like being hustled. Let’s play another game. Double or nothing.”
Fran playfully shoulder bumps him. “Why not?”
We play one more game, this time couples, and Brad and I end up losing and buying dinner. We grab a booth and order something to eat. Kyle snaps his fingers suddenly and his brown eyes shine. �
��So, did Fran tell you she kicked our butts again in Scrabble last night. You should’ve seen her. I’m kind of thinking she needs to enter some sort of competition. She’s becoming quite the wordsmith.”
Fran turns to Kyle, glowing. “Uh…wordsmith? I don’t think so.”
Kyle leans over and gives Fran a kiss then takes her hand in his. She smiles contentedly. She looks so happy tonight and this seems to be just what she needed. I’m so glad. Not to mention, Fran and Brad seem to really like one another and that puts me over the moon. They’re both so important to me. Just when I feel like all is right with the world, Fran opens her mouth.
"So, Brad, what are your intentions?"
Kyle gives her a piercing glare.
I kick her under the table and she screeches. I give her my most evil death stare; I can't believe she just said that.
Brad doesn't seem the least bit ruffled, or if he is, as usual, he doesn't show it. "My intentions…" He pauses. "My intentions are to make Gabby deliriously happy."
You already do.
Fran has a humongous grin on her face as she winks at me. And me, well, if I'm not as red as a hot juicy tomato right now, I’d be shocked.
Brad leans in close to my ear. "I have other intentions, too...for your ears only." He nips my earlobe and I nearly choke on my drink. He has a habit of making me do that.
Fran stares at me with a twinkle in her eye. She moves in so close only I can hear her words. “I like seeing you like this. I haven’t seen you this happy in a long time.”
She’s right. I haven’t been.
***
My mom is coming into town today, so waking up with a hangover is a given. After I take two Tylenol to calm my pounding head, Fran and I spend the morning cleaning up the apartment so I don’t have to hear Mom complain.
“Gabby, you need to relax. Everything’s going to be fine. She’s not even gonna be here that long.” Thank goodness for Fran, she’s always the voice of reason.
“Well, you wouldn’t know it, the way we’re scavenging the apartment looking for rodent cadavers. You haven’t seen any cockroaches recently, have you?”
“Very funny. So, are you going to introduce her to Brad?”
I sigh. I’ve been debating introducing Brad to Mom. It could go great, but I doubt it. “I was thinking about it. But I’m not sure she can control herself.”
“Gabby, he’s absolutely adorable, she’ll love him.”
I put my hands on my hips. “Yeah, well, I don’t care if she loves him or not.”
Fran crosses her arms over her chest. “Whoa. Rein it in there, chickie. I’m on your side, remember?”
I stare at her as I make swirls in the carpet with my feet. “I know, Fran. I’m sorry. It’s just… You know how I get whenever I’m around my mom. I become a completely different person and I’m so uptight.”
Right on cue, as if she knows we’re talking about her, my cell phone rings. I cringe when I see her name pop up. I might as well get it over with. “Hi, Mom.”
“Hi, dear! Guess where I am? New York City! Right smack in the middle of fashion central. It’s fabulous! I’m so glad I decided to come. The couture lines are amazing. I’ve got lots of great ideas for my shop.” Take a breath, Mom. “I’ve had a chance to meet some of the designers and the models. It’s so exciting!”
“That’s great, Mom.” I roll my eyes even though she can’t see me.
“So, I’m going to finish up at around four o’clock, and thought I could come by the apartment so we could grab a bite to eat. It’s really going to be the only chance I’ll have to see you. Tomorrow is a full day and then I head back home.”
“That sounds fine, Mom.”
“Great, so I’ll see you later.”
“I will. Bye.”
Fran looks over at me. “So what time is she coming?”
“Around four. Where do you think we should go to eat? If it’s up to her, she’ll want to go somewhere ritzy and I’m not up for that.” I look down at my Converse. Definitely not up for ritzy.
Fran taps her finger against her cheek. “What about Carmine’s on the Upper West Side?”
“Perfect. I’ll call Brad to see if he wants to come along. Do you want to call Kyle?”
“He has to work tonight, so he’ll have to miss out on the fun.” She chuckles. “I’m sure he’s all torn up about it.”
I dial Brad and wait to hear the sound of his throaty voice.
“Hey, Baby.”
My heart skips a beat just hearing it. “Hey!”
“What’s up?”
“So do you want to meet my crazy Mom? She’s here and we’re going out to dinner.”
“Absolutely. What’s the plan?” Wow, he actually sounds excited. I hope he feels the same way after he meets her. Ugh.
“I think we’re going to head to Carmine’s. Do you want to meet us there after work?”
“Sure. That sounds good.”
“I’ll text you on the way, okay?”
“Okay. I can’t wait to see you.”
“Me too.”
At four o’clock sharp, there’s a knock at the door. I throw a couple more Tums in the air and they land in my mouth. Now I’m ready. I fling open the door. There she is; impeccably dressed as always. She’s wearing a navy blue pencil skirt and a white silk blouse. Subtle gold jewelry adds to her look, and I notice she still wears those ridiculously expensive Borgezie shoes. Her makeup is perfect, right down to the waterproof mascara, and her hair is pinned up in her trademark bun with a rhinestone clip.
“Hi, dear.” She hugs me gently and pats my back awkwardly, as an afterthought. Whoever invented this uncomfortable hug, I’ll never know.
“Hi, Mom.”
“Let me look at you. Have you been eating? You look a little thin, dear.”
My eyes go to the heavens. “Yes, Mom, I’m eating.”
“Well, I certainly hope it’s not only that dreadful candy you can’t seem to stay away from,” she says with disgust.
Let’s not talk about me. “So, we thought we’d go to Carmine’s. They’ve got great food and it’s relatively casual.” Thankfully, here comes Fran.
“Hey, Mrs. W.” Fran walks over and gives her a big hug. My mom doesn’t know what to do with herself. She’s not used to this kind of affection; giving it or receiving it.
“Franny, wow, you look terrific!” Nice. She looks terrific and I look emaciated.
“Thanks, Mrs. W. It’s good to see you. How’s the fashion business?”
Ready. Set. Go.
“Oh, Franny, it’s fantastic. I’m living the dream, what can I say? I’m loving the energy of New York; I’m meeting so many amazing people.”
“That’s great!” Fran sounds genuinely excited. I wish I could have that same level of enthusiasm around my mom.
“So, let’s head out,” I chime in. And get this over with.
On the way to Carmine’s, I text Brad. I hate to expose him to my mom, but I’m looking forward to seeing him. Fingers crossed that she can behave herself and not offend him with any of her snobbish remarks.
When we arrive at the restaurant, Brad’s already there. He flashes me his dimple the moment we walk in the door, and I want to do a lot more than just smile back. I fold my arms around his waist and give him a gentle kiss on the lips. I hear my mother clear her throat. “Dear, who might this be?”
“This would be Brad, Mom, my boyfriend. Brad, this is my mom.”
“You haven’t mentioned him before.” She sounds affronted and she just insulted Brad.
“Yes, and that would be because I rarely hear from you.”
She shoots me a dirty look. I look over at Brad with an apologetic smile. He grabs my hand and squeezes. All is right with the world.
From the moment we sit down, my mother starts in on him. “So, what do you do, Brad?”
“I own a coffee shop in Midtown.”
My mom gives me a disapproving glance. I’d expect nothing less. She hesitates before she speaks
. “That sounds…nice. What did you get your degree in?”
“Business Management.“
“Yes, and where did you go to school? Do you have your MBA?”
I chime in. “Oh my God, Mom, enough of the third degree.”
She never disappoints. Perfectly poised, but impossible to hide the shards of ice that surround her.
Fran knees me under the table and gives me a sympathetic glance.
“I’m just trying to get to know your boyfriend, dear.”
Brad continues. “I went to Pace University, and no, I don’t have my MBA.”
“I see,” my mother says, disapproval dripping from that nasty little tongue of hers. “It must be somewhat interesting, meeting people from all walks of life.”
Someone shoot me now. Brad doesn’t skip a beat, though. My superhero. “Yes, it is Mrs. Willis. I get to meet all sorts of people, some pretty wonderful ones actually. That’s where I met your daughter.” Score.
“Still addicted to coffee, Gabby?” My mom shakes her head and turns down her nose at me. “It’s a terrible habit and so unhealthy.”
She says it like I’m addicted to crack. Get a grip, Mom. I raise my eyes to meet Brad’s and grab his knee under the table. “Yes, especially now.” God, I just want to plant my lips on his and kiss him senseless. I’m sure my mom would appreciate that.
“So are you enjoying being in New York, Mrs. Willis?” Leave it to Brad to save the day and change the subject. This should get her going for a good fifteen minutes.
“It’s fantastic. There’s so much to see, it’s hard to take it all in. Plus, I’m so just busy with getting new fashion ideas for the store, that I don’t have time for much else. It’s a nice change from California, though. Things definitely move at much faster pace here.” She turns to me, planning her next move. I can see it on her face. “So, Gabby. Have you managed to get a promotion yet? It’s been almost three years, after all.”