Stalemate

by Lisa Suzanne

“Why don’t I take her out to lunch tomorrow and give you some time away from her?”

  “You’d really do that?”

  “Of course I would, Court. Now what’s this about the blog?”

  “I have next to zero time to write, and when I finally sit down for five minutes, I’m blank.”

  “What about Carter’s articles?” He started a regular column from a male perspective, and it has been a wildly popular addition to Courtney’s blog.

  “He’s busy, too. He’s got his stuff here at the bar, he’s overworked at King Contributions right now, and he’s helping me with wedding planning. We haven’t had sex in six days, and I didn’t even see him yesterday. We exchanged a few texts about the wedding and that was it. Emme, we used to do it like three times a day. We’re both exhausted and running on empty and we don’t even have time for each other right now.”

  “You need a date night.”

  “No shit, but when’s that supposed to happen?”

  “Tomorrow.”

  “I can’t just stop everything to go on a date with Carter.”

  “Yes, babe, you can. Axel and I will take care of the bar so Carter can have some time off.”

  “That will help a little. Can I ask a huge favor?”

  “Anything. You know that.”

  “Can you write a few guest posts for Courting Sandy Eggo?”

  My heart drops. “Anything except that.”

  She makes some noise between a moan and a sob, and I’m not sure what to do.

  “I’m not a writer, Court. You’re the creative one.”

  “Just write up a few things about dating, or even promote The Port on there. I don’t care. Write a few lines about the best local bands or do some Fast Fives about drinks or bars or bar food. Just email it to me and I’ll post it. Please? I really need your help. I really need fresh content and right now I’ve got nothing. People don’t want to read about my wedding plans, but that has taken over my entire life, and if I don’t get something new and fun up there, I’m going to lose readers, and then I’m going to lose money, and then—”

  “Okay!” I interrupt her, mostly to get her to stop her whiney rambling. “Okay. I’ll come up with something.”

  She jumps up from her seat and rushes around my desk then throws her arms around my shoulders even though I’m still sitting. “Oh my God, Emme, you’re saving my entire life.”

  “That’s what best friends are for. Now get out of here. I have work to do, and apparently some articles to write.”

  She giggles. “I love you. If you need anything—anything—I’m here.”

  “Anything?”

  “Anything.”

  “I haven’t had someone perform oral sex on me in a while.”

  She glares at me, and I burst out laughing.

  “I just meant I need you to send Axel back when he has a second, and tell him I need a drink.”

  She giggles, and then she blows me a kiss and disappears.

  I realize much, much too late—after I just offered to take her mom to lunch and for Axel and I both to work overtime tomorrow so she and Carter can spend some time together—that tomorrow is Monday.

  It’s the day Axel wanted to spend with me, and I’ve just fucked it all up.

  After she leaves, I open a blank document. I stare at the screen, trying to decide what I want to write about. Courtney rattled off a list of a few different things, and given that Digital Shade is performing right now, I decide to write a review of their show. I suppose I should head out to listen to the rest of their set so I can write a full and honest review, but I was out there for the first four songs, so I figure I can make it work.

  A tiny, annoying thought at the back of my mind has me wondering if I’m writing about this band in particular to give James a little boost. I brush the thought away. I’d write about anybody performing the night Courtney asked me to write; it just happens to be James’s band tonight.

  I get a few lines written that I don’t feel horrible about, and then Axel pushes my door open and sets a glass of red wine in front of me. “Everything okay?”

  I sigh and push back from my desk but don’t get out of my chair. “Thanks.” I nod to the glass. “No, everything’s not okay. I messed up, and I’m sorry.”

  A shadow of alarm passes over his face. “What did you do?”

  “I told Court I’d take her mom to lunch to get her off Courtney’s back for a little bit, and I told her we’d take care of things here so she and Carter could spend some time together.”

  “When?”

  “Tomorrow.”

  He closes his eyes briefly. “Of course.”

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize what day it was until I’d already offered, and she was so grateful, I couldn’t take it back.”

  He sighs heavily, but he doesn’t respond. He gives me one long, last look, disappointment evident all over his face, and then he disappears out my door.

  A little wave of fear pierces through my chest as I think about how upset he is.

  Am I pushing him too far?

  He wouldn’t end things with me because I’m not ready to take the huge steps he wants to take…would he?

  COURTING SANDY EGGO

  posted by Courtney Sanders

  by guest author Emme Ford

  SAN DIEGO’S HOTTEST NEW SHADE IS DIGITAL

  Are you dating someone who likes rock music, who blares heavy metal every time you’re in the car together? Do you prefer dance music to that loud noise?

  Look no further than Digital Shade. They’re a newish local band making waves in San Diego’s music scene. With their eclectic mix of rock and dance, they’ve got a sound that will appeal to you and to that hard rock lover in your life.

  Head songwriter Braden Clark impressed the crowd at The Port this past Sunday with songs like “Take You Under” and “Coffee Table Dreams.” Clark has been playing guitar nearly his entire life, but songwriting has always been his first passion.

  “I’ve written over two hundred songs,” he tells me—an impressive number that deserves recognition. “But Digital Shade is the first band who could set the right music to my words.”

  They started as a wedding band, and they still play the occasional wedding. Consider yourself lucky if you end up at a wedding where they’re playing—they may just go down in history.

  Click the link below for a schedule of their upcoming shows.

  CHAPTER 9

  EMME

  I managed to avoid further alone time with James last night, which means I managed to avoid giving him my phone number. Surely he would have wanted to keep in touch—maybe not for anything romantic, but at least to find some time to catch up with each other.

  After Axel walked out of my office, I hung in there quietly for a bit before heading back out to make sure everything was still going smoothly with the band. I caught up with Braden after the show to take care of some professional obligations, including grabbing a quote from him for the short article I wrote for Courtney’s blog, and then I bolted. The band was still there, but Darryl arrived and I knew they’d be taken care of.

  I just couldn’t face James again, not when I thought about my heart skipping a beat when I saw him, and certainly not when things are a little rocky with Axel.

  I lied to Axel. I felt fine, but I hadn’t the night before, so I told him I was sick again, and he told me to go home. He was so dismissive, so flippant, I wasn’t sure he meant for me to go to his home.

  So I went home. I took a cab to the apartment I haven’t stepped foot in in weeks, and while I immediately regretted the decision to spend the night away from Axel, especially when he’s on edge where I’m concerned, it felt kind of nice to be home for a change.

  It felt nice to sleep in my own bed.

  It felt nice to take a shower in my own shower.

  Nice is good, and nice is fine—but it didn’t feel great. I miss Axel, and I’m worried about us. When I check my phone in the morning and realize he didn’t text
me when he got home and found his place empty, it’s the first time I realize what I’m doing to him. It hurts that he didn’t reach out to me or check up on me, but I have been awfully cold to him lately, and maybe he’s starting to realize he deserves better than me.

  I don’t want to text him and wake him, so I wait. Instead, I take a shower and then text Courtney’s mom.

  Me: Courtney’s maid of honor requests a lunch date today at noon with the mother of the bride. Are you free? :)

  Mrs. Sanders: Fluupreern933

  I stare at her text trying to decode what the fuck fluupreern means and the significance of the numbers, but then I remember Court telling me her mom is a bit inept with technology. I decide to call her instead.

  “Hello?” she answers.

  “Hi Mrs. Sanders, it’s Emme Ford. How are you?”

  “I’m fine, sweetheart. I’m just trying to figure out this silly phone. Courtney showed me how to send a text but I can’t figure it out.”

  “You sent me one.”

  “I did?”

  “I just figured calling would be easier.”

  “I didn’t realize I sent one. I typed something but it wasn’t what I meant to type, so I backspaced to try to delete it, but then it disappeared, so I thought I just deleted the whole thing.”

  “No, Mrs. Sanders, you sent it.” I giggle lightly, though I think with exasperation how I didn’t really need the full explanation.

  “I’m so sorry. These things are just so ridiculously complicated.”

  “They are. I can show you at lunch today if you’re free.”

  “Yes, I would love that. Is this about the bachelorette party?”

  No, it’s about giving your daughter some time away from you. “Yes! That’s one of the items I’d like to cover!” I try for a gushing tone, but it’s difficult given the current state of my own relationship.

  “Twelve is good for me. Where would you like to go?”

  “There’s that little Mexican restaurant, Los Tacos, in the plaza by your house. Does that work?” I’m suddenly craving their tacos.

  “Sure, honey. I’ll see you in a couple of hours.”

  “Sounds good. Bye!” I listen for a few beats after she says her goodbye. It’s kind of hilarious on my end to listen to her fumble with her phone before she finally figures out how to hang up.

  I giggle to myself, and then I hang up. Just as I’m about to set my phone on the counter to finish getting ready, it alerts me of a new text message.

  A shudder races down my back. I have a sinking feeling it’s Axel, though it’s a bit early for him to be awake, and I’m nervous about what words he has for me.

  I grab my phone and open the message, but it’s from a number I don’t recognize.

  Unknown Number: Braden gave me your number, I hope that’s okay. It’s James, by the way. It was great seeing you last night. I’d love to see you again. Are you free for lunch?

  Another shudder races down my back, but this time I’m not sure it’s anxiety over Axel, nerves about the possibility of seeing James again, or something else entirely.

  I don’t know how to respond. I’m not sure if I want to see him. Meeting a guy I used to love for lunch feels an awful lot like a date, and I’m not exactly in a position to date. While I’ve been the one to avoid labeling what I have with Axel, it still feels wrong to go on a date with another man.

  I’m not sure if I’m supposed to tell him I’m seeing someone or if that’s more of an in-person thing. At least I already have lunch plans, so that sort of solves that problem. I stare at my phone for a long time and type out about fifteen thousand drafts before I finally settle on the one I send.

  Me: It was nice seeing you, too. I actually already have lunch plans today, but thanks for asking.

  There, a simple denial and no open door for him to ask again.

  My text notification sounds again almost immediately, and at exactly the same second, there’s a knock at my door. I glance between my phone and the door for a quick beat, not sure which to answer first. The knock at the door sounds again, a bit louder this time—and with a bit more aggression—so I go with the door. The text from James can wait.

  I open the door, knowing who it is just from the sound of the knock.

  Axel’s tired, worried eyes meet mine. His beard is more grown in, like he hasn’t done his usual morning grooming. His usually slicked back hair is a mess, and his shirt is a little wrinkled, like maybe he slept in it and came straight over when he woke up.

  “Hi,” I say, opening the door and motioning for him to come on in.

  He walks in without a word, and I don’t know what my next move is supposed to be. I shut and lock the door, and then he turns to face me. I feel a bit cornered between him and my front door.

  “Is everything okay with us?” he asks.

  “We’re fine.”

  “Then why did you come here last night instead of my place?”

  I sigh; I knew it was a mistake to come here. “Because I haven’t been here in three weeks?” I say it like a question.

  “Yeah, I know, that’s why I’m confused. Why did you pick last night?”

  “I’ve been tired and haven’t been feeling good. I just wanted to sleep in my own bed.”

  “A text might’ve been nice, something to let me know that considering we’ve spent almost every night together for the past six months.”

  I so badly want to say that a text from him expressing some concern might’ve been nice, too, but the sentiment feels a bit misplaced. Instead, I nod and say, “You’re right, and I’m sorry.”

  He tugs on his hair in frustration, and it stands up angrily for a second before falling down again. He runs his hand over his beard. “Sorry isn’t enough, Emme. I hate to throw a cliché at you, but your actions are speaking louder than your words.”

  A ripple of fear darts through my spine. “Stop, Axel. You know how I feel about you.”

  “Do I? Do I really? All I know is you’ve been avoiding me. You keep leaving work early. You’re out the door before I even wake up. You make no time for me. You make plans on the days we’re supposed to spend together. We haven’t even fucked in days.”

  “I told you, I haven’t been feeling well.”

  “That’s not an excuse for lack of communication. I don’t know how you feel about me because you never bother to tell me. You keep everything inside. I get that you’re scared. I get that you’ve been hurt in the past, but I’m not that guy, babe, and you’ve got to give me something to hold on to here if you expect this to continue.”

  “Expect what to continue?”

  He motions between the two of us. “Us.”

  “You’re threatening to break up with me?”

  His jaw drops in surprise. “You think there’s something to break? You actually believe we’re a couple that can break up?”

  My hand flies to my chest in defense. “Of course I do!”

  My voice is louder than I intend, and he comes right back at the same volume.

  “Well that shocks the hell out of me!”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “I’m talking about us! We’re not a functional couple, Emme! I fucking love you and I want to marry you. I want to spend my life showing you how much I love you. I want to have children with you and I want to make you happy, but you won’t give me the chance. If you don’t love me too, if you don’t see a future with me, then we need to fucking end this shit because I can’t take not knowing anything about you anymore. I can’t take not knowing how you feel. I can’t take you shutting down on me every time I try to get close to you!”

  He’s yelling by this point, and both of our emotions are running high. I have no words for him. I could yell back at him. I could tell him I love him, or I could tell him it’s over. The proverbial ball is in my court.

  But I don’t do either of those things. I don’t say a goddamn thing, actually, because there’s something so incredibly sexual about an angry Axel that
I actually can’t help myself.

  I don’t take a soft step toward him…no, instead I close the small space between us as I leap into his arms. I smash my mouth against his.

  He has to know how I feel just from the emotion I’m pouring into my kiss. Maybe I’m not good with words—and apparently I’ve failed at actions lately, as well—but it’s time to let my body do the talking. It’s time to let Axel know how I feel in the only way I know how to show him.

  I push him back into the wall behind him as I assault his mouth with mine. I’m kissing him like a goddamn sailor on leave, and he’s kissing me back with brutal force, his whiskers rubbing fire against the sensitive skin around my mouth.

  This is where I want to be—right here, with my mouth against Axel’s.

  I think very briefly how I want to be in his arms, and that’s when I realize his arms aren’t actually around me.

  So I kiss harder. I run my hands down his back to his ass, and I pull his body closer to me. If he won’t wrap himself around me, I’ll wrap myself around him. I’ll find a way to make this work.

  That last line clicks in my brain. I’ll find a way to make this work.

  If I can find a way to make our lovemaking work, certainly I can find a way to make our relationship work.

  I reach forward to cup him in my hand. He’s hard and ready for me—but then, he’s always hard for me. He’s pretty awesome at sex. I think that’s actually where this whole exclusivity thing between us started. We both wanted more than one night, and I hadn’t found that in a long time.

  It’s not like we ever said the words. We never had some long, drawn-out conversation about how we’re only going to be with each other.

  That’s just not how our relationship is.

  Instead, we spend time together. We have a lot of sex—a lot—so I can see why Axel is feeling insecure that we haven’t done it in a few days. We’re more of a multiple times a day sort of couple, not an every few days or every few weeks sort of couple.

  I know I just called us a couple, and that’s what we are, even if I’m too scared to admit it.

  He moans this deep, guttural moan when I cup him through his pants, and then I start making the motion like I’m giving him a hand job. More moans rumble through his chest.