Avoiding Amy Jackson

by N. A. Alcorn

  “Hey! Get back in here, James!” Ellen’s voice booms down the hallway.

  “Have a wonderful day, ladies!” I holler behind my shoulder.

  I make my way inside of Amy’s bedroom and set her fresh coffee on the nightstand. “I’m going to head out. Your coffee is right here, doll.”

  She still has the covers pulled over her face when she groans loudly in frustration. “Seriously? Could you be any louder right now?”

  I internally chuckle at her crankiness. “Sorry, sleeping beauty,” I apologize sarcastically as I pull the blankets from her face.

  “Hey!” She flips me off and grabs the blankets from my grasp, pulling them back over her.

  I laugh loudly at her outrageousness. I’ll have to keep a mental note of how fucking cantankerous this woman is in the morning. I shake my head in incredulity as I start to walk out of her room.

  “Hey, James!” she shouts from under the covers.

  I stop at the foot of her bed. “Yeah?”

  “Thanks for the coffee and for last night. I had a lot of fun.”

  A giant grin spreads across my face. I’m instantly amazed that something as simple as Amy saying she had good time last night can make my entire day. This woman has me by the balls and I don’t think she even realizes it. “You’re welcome, Amy. I had fun last night too,” I add before gripping her blankets and pulling hard. All of the covers slide off of her body and reveal a very pissed-off Amy.

  I immediately haul ass out of her bedroom.

  “Limp Dick!” she screams from her bed. I hear a string of curse words loudly spat my way.

  I continue to laugh the entire way out of her apartment.

  Chapter Fifteen

  “I prefer my balls big, juicy, and covered in special sauce.” - Amy

  “Should I be expecting another call from you tonight because you’re still too scared to sleep?” James’s husky voice fills my ear. It’s been a few weeks since our infamous scary movie night. I’ve made a point to call him virtually every night around one in the morning because I can’t sleep. Most nights I wake him up from a deep slumber, and I’m not going to lie, I find a lot of pleasure in this.

  “Funny ha-ha, James. No, you will not be getting a call from me tonight. I actually have a date.” I rummage through my closet, trying to find something decent to wear.

  “A date?” James clears his throat and his tone sounds a little off.

  “Yes. A date. You know, where two people go out for dinner and drinks in a lame attempt to get to know each other.”

  “I know what a fucking date is, Amy. I’m just wondering why you’re going out on one, seeing as you’ve told me time and time again that you don’t date or do relationships.”

  “You sound pissed off. What’s going on, friend?” This man confuses the hell out of me. Why would he care that I’m going out on a date? The only interest he has in me is a combination of friendship and wanting to get into my pants.

  “I’m not pissed, just slightly confused. Who’s the lucky bastard?”

  “Eh. Just some personal trainer Lizzy knows from the gym.”

  He chuckles lightly into the phone. “You don’t sound excited, sweetheart.”

  “I’m excited,” I voice with a false sense of sweetness and enthusiasm. Honestly, I’m not all that excited. I’d rather sit around eating takeout and watch movies with James.

  That doesn’t sound like something someone with purely friendship motives would say.

  I hate my subconscious sometimes. She’s snarky and obnoxious and she thinks she knows everything. I only have friendship-like interest in James and possibly, a strong urge to get him naked, but that’s it. James is an extremely attractive man. I’d have to be a lesbian to not want to see him with his pants off. He’s got the sexiest green eyes and his body is unbelievable—and that’s with his clothes on. Imagine what he looks like without his clothes. And the fact that I’ve seen him in just his boxer briefs, well… That only seems to fuel my imagination.

  “Are you trying to convince me or yourself that you’re excited for this date?” His question yanks me from my thoughts of seeing him stripped naked with a raging erection.

  I clear my throat loudly, trying to mentally pull myself out of fantasies of his abs and sexy v-muscle. You know, that sexy little muscular arrow that points right to all the good stuff. Yeah, I’ve seen his V. I still want to lick his V. God, his body is too perfect.

  Mmmmm James’s good stuff…

  Dammit! Why am I fantasizing about James when I’ve got a date tonight?

  Lizzy set me up with one of Ryder’s personal trainer friends. His name is Michael and he’s twenty-six. Only three years younger than I am, so I think this works out perfectly. I’m not going to be earning cougar status, but still, sometimes younger guys are a nice breath of fresh air.

  “Are you still there, sweetheart?”

  “Y-yeah. Sorry. I’m just trying to figure out what to wear tonight.”

  “Sweatpants and the Marines sweatshirt you stole from me.” His voice is clearly amused at his ridiculous suggestion.

  “I’m not wearing sweatpants on a date!” I giggle into the phone. And yes, I did steal James’s sweatshirt. It’s big and cozy and smells like him.

  Wait a minute. Ignore that last comment.

  James deep, masculine laugh fills my ear. “All right, bossy. I’m going to let you get ready for your date.”

  “Okay. I’ll call you later.”

  “Bye, Amy.”

  I hear the phone click in my ear when James hangs up, and I can’t ignore the slight tingle of disappointment that pulls at my heartstrings. This is dumb. Completely ridiculous that I should feel even an inkling of disappointment, but I can’t shake the feeling.

  Shake the god damn feeling, dumbass.

  Yeah, James and I share a mutual sexual attraction for each other, but our platonic relationship is pretty awesome. He’s slowly wiggled his way into my life, and now he’s actually one of my closest friends. James is just kind of perfect that way, and I don’t think I should let wayward thoughts about his naked body ruin something that’s pretty fantastic.

  I continue getting ready for my date and decide that I’m not going to go for my usual sexy vixen look. Instead, I take a casual approach. Jeans and dressy long-sleeved shirt paired with a pair of black ballet flats. I leave my long brunette locks down and curl the ends. I choose to go for the less-is-more look for my makeup, adding only a hint of blush, gloss, and mascara.

  “Hey there. You look nice,” Lizzy compliments from behind me with curiosity etched in her voice.

  “Thanks. I figured I’d just go casual tonight.” I shrug my shoulders as I put the finishing touches on my makeup.

  “I’m surprised you’re not flaunting those curvy assets you’re so proud of.” She cocks an eyebrow at me as she crosses her arms in front of her chest.

  I turn around in my vanity seat, facing her and start to laugh. “Yeah, I dunno… I guess I’m just not really feeling this whole dating thing. Although, it’s not like I had a choice in the matter. You pretty much forced me to agree to this.”

  “Is it that you’re not feeling this whole dating thing or you’re actually feeling something for someone who isn’t your date?”

  “What in the hell is that supposed to mean?” My voice raises a few octaves in irascibility.

  Lizzy holds both of her palms up and smirks at me. “Hey, no need to get worked up. I was just making an observation. Just forget I said anything.”

  “Good plan.” I know she’s talking about James. Ever since she saw me cuddled up to him in my bed after our scary movie night, she’s been hounding me about my feelings for him. She and Ellen came rushing into my room that morning after James left and asked me a million questions. Those bitches just wouldn’t let it go. Actually, they still won’t let it go. I’ve told them time and time again that I’m just friends with James and nothing more. I may have left out my intense sexual attraction to him, but that’s just
a minor detail, right?

  “So what are your plans tonight?”

  “I’m taking Ellen shopping for baby furniture!” Lizzy’s tone is nothing short of girly giddiness. “Despite the fact that my divorce has yet to be finalized, I managed to get access to my joint bank accounts with Matt. I can’t wait to spoil my soon-to-be niece or nephew.”

  “How is everything going with the divorce? Is Matt finally cooperating or is he still insistent on putting you through hell?”

  “He’s being a pain in the ass. He’s refusing to sign the papers, demanding that I come to Louisville and spend some more time with him.” Her brow creases. Lizzy’s facial expression exudes frustration.

  I set my brush down on my vanity and put my flats on. “You deserve a huge settlement once this is all through. You supported him, took care of him, and did everything for him for a long fucking time. His stubborn ass better be cutting you monthly checks for the rest of your life.”

  “I know, right? That bastard should be paying me millions for everything I’ve done for him.” Her face relaxes a little before she adds, “I’m not playing this cat-and-mouse game with him much longer. I’ve decided I’ll make the trip to Louisville and talk things out one last time, but I know it’s not going to go anywhere. I’m done with that relationship. Done.”

  I like this side of Lizzy. This confident woman who is finally aware of what she deserves. She’s come a long way since she stumbled into Ellen’s and my apartment drunk off her ass with nowhere to go. She was a mess to say the least, and now she’s finally becoming the woman she wants to be, finally doing what makes her happy. Finally being Lizzy. I’m really proud of everything she’s accomplishing for herself. She’s finishing her Master’s degree in education and managed to secure a part-time job as a substitute at a local high school. I’m ridiculously proud of this woman. My face beams as I think about her happiness and how, for a while there, I wasn’t sure she was going to find it.

  “Why are you looking at me like that?” Her eyebrows are scrunched together as her green eyes assess me.

  I shrug my shoulders and smile warmly at her. “I’m just happy for you. I like this Lizzy.”

  Lizzy walks towards me and embraces me into a tight hug. “Thank you. I don’t think I could have gotten here without your sarcastic ass.”

  I laugh loudly as I hug her back.

  It’s amazing how you find friends in the most unexpected places. When I first met Lizzy several years ago, I could hardly stand her. She was uptight and conservative and she had a gargantuan stick up her ass. But now I love her. She’s become one of my best friends.

  ****

  “I’ll just have the spaghetti and meatballs, thanks,” I place my order as I hand the menu to the waitress. Michael brought me to a cute, little Italian restaurant just outside of downtown Charlotte. Mama Rosa’s. This establishment is actually a staple among Charlotte residents, and it’s been around for over fifty years. The ambiance is quaint and intimate. Red-checkered table clothes and small tea light candles line all of the tables. The red brick walls add a nice urban touch and the beautiful Italian black-and-white photos are pure perfection.

  I watch Michael order and take the time to give him a nice, long once-over without him realizing I’m doing it. Michael is adorable and handsome in a boy-next-door kind of way. He’s really sweet and his background as personal trainer has done nice things for his physique. Very nice things. His brown hair is buzzed, and I see a few tattoos peeking out from underneath his polo shirt. His grey eyes practically sparkle. It would be nice if I could muster up some attraction for him.

  Don’t get me wrong. He’s really good-looking, but I guess he’s just not really my type. There’s something missing and I can’t quite put my finger on it. Our conversation is nice but slightly awkward at times, kind of forced I guess. This is a good reason to add to the on-going list of why I don’t date or do relationships. I hate feeling like I have to talk to someone. I despise when I have to search for something in common with another person and feign interest in topics I couldn’t care less about. The only reason I agreed to this date was to get Lizzy off my back about James, and deep down, I thought it would help secure my ‘we’re only friends’ status with him.

  As I listen to Michael ramble on about something, my mind focuses on the fact that conversation with James isn’t awkward or forced…

  Why am I comparing Michael to James? I’m not quite sure. Maybe it’s because James is really the only man who has become a constant in my life. James gets me and understands my hate for small talk. Nothing ever feels forced with him.

  “Just spaghetti and meatballs?” Michael asks with a raise of his eyebrow.

  “Mama Rosa’s makes the best spaghetti and meatballs. I can guarantee you’re going to be jealous of my balls once you get a good look at them,” I respond with a straight face. Michael looks at me with confusion when in all actuality he should be laughing. I just indirectly referenced myself as having balls. I mean, that’s kind of funny, right?

  Instead, he is staring at me like I’m two cans short of a six-pack.

  God, he’s a dumbass.

  I obviously don’t have balls, but right now, I kind of wish I did have a giant sac tucked inside my panties. That would certainly scare the crap out of him. If James were here, he would have had made some sarcastic quip right back at me.

  Stop comparing Michael to James!

  This is becoming a problem. Almost as bad as my chronic Foot-In-Mouth Syndrome. I quickly change the balls subject and ask Michael about his personal training job and clients. I figured this would get him chatting and would give me time to sit around without the pressure of coming up with stupid topics of conversation.

  Michael is blabbing on and on about his current client load like he’s some fucking personal training god. You’re a personal trainer, for fuck’s sake. Get over yourself. His biggest dilemma is whether or not to do cardio before or after he’s lifted weights.

  Blah, blah, blah… “I got the biggest bonus last year for having the largest client base.”

  Pffft.

  “I was asked to do a cover shoot for Weightlifter Today last week.”

  Oh, holy ego!

  “My balls can bench press one hundred pounds.”

  Okay, I made that last one up, but I seriously couldn’t help myself.

  “My cock is on a strict protein diet for his next competition.”

  Sorry, I had to give you at least one more.

  “I’d be more than happy to give you some free personal training sessions,” Michael offers with a giant grin plastered to his stupid face.

  “Wow, that’s very generous of you,” I reply politely as I pick up my glass of wine and take a sip. I have the urge to slam the glass down on the table and use the shards to slice open a vein. God, this guy is the worst. He has me contemplating suicide just to escape this date and awful small talk.

  While Michael is explaining the difficulties of being an entrepreneur, my phone starts ringing and I can’t deny that I’m thrilled to have the distraction. This phone call might have just saved me from jumping off the roof of Mama Rosa’s.

  “I am so sorry. This must be important. I’ll step outside to answer this and I’ll be right back.” I hold up one finger to Michael as I hold the phone to my ear and get up from my chair, promptly heading for the door.

  “This better be important, dickhead.”

  “No, ‘Hello James. How are you this evening’?”

  I laugh into the phone as I stand outside of Mama Rosa’s with a giant smile on my face. “Nope,” I reply, loudly popping the p like James seems to do a lot. “You know I’m out on a date, so why are you calling me?” I attempt to scold him with a stern tone, but my voice betrays me. I can practically hear my own smile.

  “I just wanted to see how my friend was doing on her date and I wanted to ask you if you would be interested in going camping in a few weeks with me and some of my buddies.”

  “You called me to
ask me to go camping? Are you screwing with me right now?”

  “Nope,” he says, loudly popping the p. That damn little quirk of his makes my body feel unreasonably warm. “I’m not screwing with you, and you should answer quickly. You’re wasting precious date time, sweetheart.”

  “James!” My voice was meant to be terse, but it just comes out sounding whiny and girly.

  “Come on, Amy. Say you’ll let your friend James take you camping.” His voice is soft and cozy, and it makes my insides feel gooey like caramel sauce.

  “Fine. Okay. I’ll go, but no funny business.” I raise my eyebrow, waiting to hear his response.

  He laughs heartily into the phone. “No funny business, sweetheart. I’ll email you all the details.”

  “And please stop talking in third person. You sound like an idiot.”

  “I only do it because I know it gets you riled up, and besides, I know you secretly love it.” He whispers the last part with his deep, husky voice.

  This man is going to be the death of me.

  “Whatever, idiot.” I start to giggle and then quickly smack my hand over my mouth, because if there is one thing I despise, it’s girly giggling.

  “How’s the date going? Are you already scheduling your next personal training sessions at the gym with him?” His questioning tone is laced with a sarcastic edge.

  “Stop being an asshole. And the date, eh… It’s all right I guess.” I shrug my shoulders like he can actually see me through the phone.

  “All right? Just all right? That doesn’t sound good. You’re bored, doll. I can hear it in your voice. My money says you’re already tired of the small talk.”

  I take a heavy sigh, letting my current frustrations from my date out in a whoosh of air from lungs. “You have no idea. I just listened to him ramble on and on about how awesome he is at his job. He’s a personal trainer, James. A personal trainer. I’m not knocking his profession, but the way he was talking, you’d think he found the cure for cancer and won the Nobel fucking prize.”