In My Bed

by Jennifer LaCross

  “What?”

  “Your hair,” she says, that smile still on her face. “I’ve liked it every way I’ve seen it, but this is definitely your color.”

  “Well, it is practically the one I was born with.”

  “Exactly. I don’t think I’ve seen it dyed any darker than a light brown in years.”

  I laugh at her reaction. “It’s just a color, Mom.”

  “I know. It’s just that you look like my little girl again, only all grown up. Let your mom have a moment of sentimentality, would you?” She laughs.

  “Sure, Mom. Do you want me to put on a little pink tutu and put it in a bun so you can get really sentimental?”

  “Would you?” She chuckles.

  “Anyway, what’s on the agenda for today?” I ask as I sit on her bed.

  “Well, I made us pedicure appointments and then we’ll go to lunch.” She pulls a cardigan on over the maxi dress she’s wearing. “And then some shopping?”

  “Sounds like we’re going to have quite the girly day.”

  “That’s the plan.”

  ***

  “So. Tell me about this boy you keep texting,” my mom says as she stabs at her salad.

  “What are you talking about, Mom? I wasn’t texting,” I tell her, although I know what she’s talking about. Maybe playing dumb will get her to drop it.

  “I know you weren’t right now, but all day you’ve been getting and responding to messages. So tell me about him.”

  “I’ve just been talking to Rachel,” I tell her. And that’s kind of true because Rachel did send me a message or two, even though the rest were from Nate.

  “That smile I’ve been seeing wasn’t caused by something Rachel said. That smile was for a boy,” she says as she takes a drink of her iced tea.

  “Okay, you’re right. It was a guy, but he’s just a friend.”

  “What’s his name?”

  “Nate. He’s in a band with Rachel’s boyfriend.”

  “That’s how you met him?”

  “No. Actually, I set him up with Rachel and when they didn’t work out, we kind of started hanging out.”

  “So you guys are hooking up?” she asks me, completely stunning me with the question.

  “Mom!” I whisper shout before I start to laugh at the fact that my mom is using that terminology.

  “What?” she says, looking a little unsure of herself. “Is that not the right way to use that phrase?”

  “No, you used it right. But Nate and I are literally just hanging out and getting to know each other. And if we were hooking up, I wouldn’t talk about it with you in a restaurant.”

  She laughs a little. “Oh good. They use that a lot in the books I read, but I’ve never actually used the phrase myself,” she says, sounding relieved.

  I put my hand over my mouth to stifle a very loud laugh in the quiet restaurant. When I get control of my voice I ask her, “What have you been reading lately, Mom?”

  “Lots of romance,” she says with a little smile. “Dad got me a kindle for my birthday and I’ve found so many great books. It’s really brought a spark back into the bedroom.”

  I’m not easily embarrassed, but hearing about my parents’ sex life while I’m sitting in a restaurant has me blushing.

  “What? You obviously know your father and I have had sex since you’re sitting here, Jenna.”

  “I know, I just don’t really like hearing about it. It’s weird.”

  She takes another bite of her salad. After she finishes chewing she opens her mouth to say something, but I cut her off. “Please nothing more about you and Dad,” I plead.

  That makes her laugh. “I’m done with that, I promise. But I want to hear more about Nate.”

  Just hearing his name makes me smile and when my mom sees my reaction I know she wants to say something, but she doesn’t. So I reward her for not pushing me on the emotional front by giving her the rundown on Nate. I tell her about his job, his aspirations, his band, and a bit about his background.

  “He sounds like a really great guy,” she responds with a secret little smile.

  “Don’t even start, Mom,” I warn her.

  “I’ll keep my opinions to myself after I say this one thing.”

  “Fine. Go ahead.”

  “You like him,” she says, her smile growing.

  It’s no use—my mom knows how I feel about Nate, so I let my smile shine. “I plead the fifth.”

  ***

  I walk into The Grove and search for Nate. He’s on stage setting up his drum kit. He’s not expecting me and I don’t want to interrupt him, so I head over to the bar to get a drink. I walk up, expecting to see Will, but instead the girl tending bar is a short, petite redhead. Her long, shiny hair cascades down her delicate shoulders. She’s bright and sweet, and also happens to be the girl that left Will’s apartment the morning I broke things off with him—his ex-girlfriend. Actually, she may be his current girlfriend.

  I hesitate for a moment before I start moving toward the bar again. I can handle Will because he was the asshole in the situation, but I have no idea what to expect from this girl. Will wronged us both, but there’s no way to know how she perceives the situation and she may see me as one of the bad guys.

  I get to the bar and take a seat, leaning forward and flagging her down so she knows I need to be served.

  “What can I get you?” She smiles. Based on her reaction, I’m sure she doesn’t even know who I am. After all, I saw her that morning but she didn’t see me.

  “A beer, please. Whatever you have on tap is fine,” I reply with a smile of my own.

  She reaches down to grab a glass before moving over to the tap to fill it. When she comes back over, I pull my wallet out to pay, but she waves my card away. “You’re Jenna, right?”

  My eyes widen a fraction, surprised that she knows my name, before I smile bigger. “That’s me. And you’re Alana. I saw your band here a few weeks ago. You were great.”

  “Thanks, I’m glad you liked the show. The night you saw my band was the night you went home with Will, right?” she asks with a smile in her voice and sadness in her eyes.

  “Uh, yeah. So you know what happened with us?”

  “Yep. And what happened with you and him helped to stop anything else from happening with me and him. Thanks for that, by the way.” I can’t tell if she is being sarcastic or serious.

  “I feel like I should apologize for what happened. Will doesn’t deserve an apology, but you certainly do. I’ve been the girl who was cheated on, and I hate that he was planning on making me the girl he cheated with. If I hadn’t seen you leave that morning, I probably would’ve slept with that asshole.” I want her to understand what happened.

  She looks down, her smile turning a little sad. “Don’t apologize,” she replies, her eyes a little glassy as she looks back up at me and waves a dismissive hand. “There are absolutely no hard feelings, at least toward you. He was using both of us, and honestly, I’m just glad I found out after one night instead of in another year. You saved me from wasting a lot of my time on him.”

  “Well, that’s a good outlook to have,” I respond, really impressed with the type of person she is. Will really did fuck up when he tried to cheat on her with me.

  “I think so,” she says, the sadness beginning to leave her smile. “You’re here with Nate tonight?”

  “Yep.” I smile. “I was supposed to be out of town for his show tonight, but I got back early.”

  “He’ll be glad you’re here. Nate’s a really great guy.” Her eyes have cleared of the unshed tears that lingered in them a moment ago, and now they look excited as she smiles at me. She looks like she has something to say, and when she moves in closer she says in a loud whisper, “He likes you.”

  I’m not sure what she expects my response to be because I already know he likes me, and I like him too. But our maybe-one-day-more-than-friends thing isn’t something I want to explain to this near stranger considering I haven’t even t
old my best friend.

  I smile. “We’re just friends.”

  Her eyes drop a little in disappointment and her smile falters, seemingly disheartened by my unenthusiastic response. After a moment, she looks up at the stage and her gaze locks onto something. Her eyes widen a fraction in excitement as she flips her hair over her shoulder, a smirk growing on her face. I swing around, following her line of sight until I lock onto Nate bent over and adjusting one of his drums. His ass is on display, and all I can think about is the time when I saw it in my room covered in only his boxers. My heart rate starts to pick up at the memory. I turn back around and clear my throat, trying to get her to look at me and not at Nate’s ass.

  It doesn’t work. She keeps her eyes on him as she asks, “So if he left with someone tonight you’d be okay with that?”

  I immediately tense up at the possibility, but as much as I hate the idea of him being with someone else, it’s really not my place to say what he can and can’t do. My heart lurches at the thought, begging me to make it my business, but Nate told me he doesn’t just hook-up with girls, so the possibility of him leaving with someone is nearly nonexistent.

  I take a deep breath and shift in my chair a bit, trying to relax my body and my voice before I answer her. “That would be fine. It’s up to him who he wants to be with. Like I said, we’re just friends.” I didn’t even fool myself with that answer, so there’s no way Alana bought that stiff reply as the truth. But if she can tell I’m not being completely honest, she doesn’t care because she smiles even bigger before she asks her next question.

  “So if he left with me, you’d be okay with that?”

  I look at her with her soft red hair, her petite and curvy figure, her bright blue eyes, and I hate her in this moment. This is jealousy—and I hate it. Because even though it should be okay with me, I realize that it wouldn’t be. Nate and I have no real commitment or anything—we’re not even dating—but I feel like I have some sort of claim on him. And as much as I want to tell her that, I push the feeling down and force out an answer to Alana’s question. “Yes, that would be okay with me,” I say, my voice strained and my smile tight.

  At my answer, her smile grows even more, her perfectly straight white teeth on display between those annoying lips.

  “Relax, I was just kidding about going home with him,” she says with a chuckle, holding her hands up like she’s calming me down. “But I got the answer I was looking for,” she finishes cryptically before walking away to serve someone who just walked up.

  The further she walks away from me, the more my body relaxes, and the more I try to forget the way I felt at the thought of Nate with someone else. Because the truth is, our maybe-one-day-more-than-friendship is turning into more faster than I’d like to admit. I want to slow things down because I feel the fall is imminent and I’m still weighed down by all of my baggage.

  I’m not sure I’ll be able to soar.

  Chapter 11

  I walk away from the bar and head toward the stage in search of Nate. I find him sitting at a table with Toby, Brian, and Jake. When he spots me, his smile grows as he gets up and walks to meet me halfway. When he reaches me, his arms go around my back as he lifts me off the floor and hugs me. I’m stunned at first since this is the first time we’ve ever hugged, but when the initial shock wears off, it feels natural when I put my arms around him and hug him back.

  It seems so strange for this to be our first time hugging because we’ve spent so much time together, but we normally greet each other and part with a wave—I like this much better. Our bodies match up so well, my soft curves molding into the hard planes of his body; his distinctly male scent more powerful with my face so close to his skin.

  He sets me down so my feet are touching the floor again, but he doesn’t pull away from me even an inch. Instead, he gets even closer as his mouth moves down to my ear. “You made it,” he whispers, his breath tickling my ear and sending shivers through my body. He leans back a fraction so he can see my eyes and that simple look causes my body to sway toward his and my smile to grow.

  “I did make it.”

  “What happened to your trip home?” he asks me, concern flashing over his features.

  “Rachel ended up driving with her brother so I came home early.”

  “I’m glad.” He smiles down at me.

  “We go on in a minute,” Brian calls to Nate. The guys start to stand and move to the stage, leaving Nate behind with me.

  He grabs my hand. “I’m really glad you made it.”

  Before I can respond, he starts walking away from me, turning around one more time and smiling. My heart skips at the look in his eyes and his hopeful smile makes me melt.

  Jake introduces the band and Nate counts them off for their first song. I smile when I hear them start to play a cover of Counting Stars by One Republic. It’s energetic and loud, and the perfect way to open the show.

  I watch Nate’s arms move with precision as he strikes his sticks on the drums, keeping the beat. I watch his foot on the pedal as he hits the bass drum over and over again. He looks so powerful and in control sitting up there.

  When my eyes finally make their journey from his body and up to his face, I’m surprised to see he’s looking right at me. Our gazes meet and his smile grows, the connection between us sending sparks throughout my body. The song ends, but he doesn’t look away from me. Instead, he counts off the beginning of the next song and starts to play again. My heart is going crazy, missing beats and changing speeds, spinning and dipping inside of my chest like it’s dancing to a song made from its own pulse as it matches the rhythm of his drums.

  I want to look away so I can stop this reaction, but I can’t seem to move my eyes from his. He’s pulling me in, and I’m extremely thankful when he finally looks away as the first half of their set ends. Jake remains on stage to play acoustic versions on some of the original stuff they’ve been working on, and Toby and Brian go to the bar.

  Nate moves through the crowd full of bodies, squeezing between people to make his way over to me as I stand immobile somewhere in the middle of the floor. My heart pounds harder the closer he gets, excited to see what he’s going to say after that intense connection we had while he was on stage. He looks incredible in head to toe black, covered in sweat and dripping with sex. I try to ignore the elation that is washing over me, and instead focus on forming complete thoughts. Something about the combination of his tall muscular form, the look in his eyes, the smile on his face, and the memory of him on stage has me nearly panting.

  “I’m just going to hit the bathroom and then grab a water from the bar. Do you want me to grab you something?” he asks loudly over the music, totally deflating the thrill that was coursing through me just moments earlier.

  “No, that’s okay. Can’t wait to see the rest of the show.” I don’t really know why, but I feel— and sound—a little disappointed, and I can tell he sees that because his smile falters as I speak. Not wanting to let him onto to how frustrated I actually feel about his greeting, I put a big smile on face. “You guys are great!”

  “Thanks,” he responds, his eyes narrowing just a fraction. “I’ll see you after the show.” With that, he walks away.

  My eyes follow him as he moves through the thick crowd and disappears down the hall that leads to the bathroom. The view of him walking away is nearly as devastating as the view I had when he was walking toward me. The truth is, I want him to acknowledge the connection we had while he was playing on stage. But the way he sounded—so normal—is making me feel like the powerful bond I felt while he was on stage was all in my head. He didn’t do a low sexy voice, didn’t pull me close, didn’t yank me toward him and devour my mouth with his. He just told me he had to go to the bathroom.

  I was expecting Nate to make a move, make that moment into something more. And the disappointment I feel because he didn’t is affecting me more than I’d like to admit.

  ***

  “Thanks for driving me home, Jenn
a,” Nate says after we get into my car.

  “No problem,” I tell him, shooting a smile his way before I start the car. “I didn’t want Toby to have to leave that chick he was with, or make you sit and wait for them. That cackle of hers made my teeth vibrate,” I explain, laughing a little at the memory of Nate wincing every time she laughed at something Toby said.

  “She sure did have a … unique laugh.” He chuckles as I exit the parking lot of The Grove and head up the hill to Nate’s apartment building.

  He grabs his water bottle to take a drink right as I say, “I’m sure her real laugh is just fine, but whatever laugh she was doing back there was about as real as her tits.”

  He chokes on his water, nearly spitting it out before forcefully swallowing it. “You’re timing with that joke was perfect and terrible all at the same time.”

  “What joke? I was totally serious,” I deadpan.

  We finish the short drive up the hill up to his apartment and I pull into an empty spot in the dimly lit parking lot. “Thanks for driving me. I feel kind of silly since it was just up the hill. I could’ve walked it in almost the same amount of time as it took for us to drive.”

  “You could have walked, but it’s pretty cold outside,” I argue, my breath leaving me as a small white cloud and proving my point. “And you don’t have a jacket. Plus, you looked so exhausted just sitting at the bar. Drumming takes a lot out of you?” I ask, turning in my seat to face him. The lights that shine on the parking lot are casting shadows on his face, but his eyes illuminate in the soft glow as he turns to look at me.

  “Yeah. It can be a real workout when I get into it,” he says, air drumming as if to show me what he means. The space is cramped, but he makes do with the limitations, keeping his usual wide whole body motions a little more controlled. “Besides, it may take a lot out of me, but I have the most fun when I throw myself into it like that.”