by K. A. Linde
Stacia wrinkled her nose in disgust. “Oh God, an artsy guy? Please don’t tell me that you are turning into one of those! I can only handle Trihn like this.”
“He’s not an artsy guy,” Bryna said defensively. “I’m a film major. Would you call me artsy?”
“No. Fashionable.”
“Exactly. He’s cute and nice, and he wants to take me to a movie. It’s different, and it sounds easy. I need some of that in my life right now. Not Eric Wilkins.”
“Okay. I guess that’s good then. But what do I tell Eric if he asks me about you? I can’t lie to him, Bri!” She actually looked conflicted about the whole thing.
“Don’t lie. Tell him just what I told you.”
Because maybe if he heard that she was dating…he would stop pursuing her. That was what she wanted after all…
Right?
Friday rolled around faster than she’d thought possible, and she had nothing to wear.
She stared at her closet stuffed full of clothes and couldn’t decide on a single item. When she had asked Cam where they were going, he had just smiled and said she could dress casually.
The only thing she had ever done casually was sex.
After about a hundred outfits, she had on a short black skirt, a flouncy tank top with some cleavage for good measure, and a pair of cute sandals. She felt dressed down for a date, but this was what he had said after all.
She wasn’t sure she even felt comfortable in her skin, purposely dressing like this on a first date, but this was Cam. She was sure it would be fun.
The knock on the door made her dart out of her room. She shooed Trihn and Stacia away and then opened the door.
“Hey,” she said brightly.
“You look great,” he said, surveying her.
“Thanks. You, too.”
He had on jeans and a green polo with the flip-flops he always wore to class.
“Are you ready?”
“Yep.” She shut the door behind her and followed him out to his car. “Wow. Is this yours?”
It was a classic black Mustang from the sixties. She wasn’t as familiar with older cars because her father preferred new supercharged sports cars. She knew enough to know this thing was beautiful and in mint condition.
“Yep. All mine.”
“I love her. I’m usually more of a Ferrari-Porsche kind of girl, but this is beautiful.”
“Thanks. All original parts. My dad owned her first.”
“Incredible,” she mused. “I’d love to drive her!”
“You drive a stick?” he asked, surprised.
“Since before I could walk.”
He smiled and opened the passenger door for her. “Then, maybe I’ll let you give it a spin, if you’re lucky.”
“I’m always lucky,” she said.
She sank into the seat and let him close the door for her. A perfect gentleman. Cam got into the driver’s side and then drove them away from the apartment.
It wasn’t far before he was pulling over onto a side street for the restaurant—if the thing he parked in front of could be considered a restaurant. It was a food truck that was basically a trailer with a window and menu on the side. There was a patio outside with picnic tables and some benches, all of which were already full. Plus, there was a line around the block. So, at least that was a good sign. Though she was skeptical.
“Hope this is okay. A friend of mine discovered this place. I swear, it’s the best food in town.”
She had been to the Eiffel Tower Restaurant, so she highly doubted that.
“Yeah. Should be interesting,” she said. She hoped she’d sounded convincing.
They got in line, and after a good half-hour wait, they made it up to order. Cam got them two burritos, which seemed to be the signature item, chips and queso, and two beers. She stared down at her aluminum can but made no comment. This was fine. She drank beer at house parties. This wasn’t any different.
Another couple vacated their spots, and they found a space to sit on a bench. Cam set the burritos down in front of them, and she took a long swig of the beer. It was cold and refreshing in the Vegas heat. She wasn’t sure what to make of the burrito wrapped in aluminum foil. Did people actually eat like this?
Cam was already removing the foil and digging into the burrito. He looked like a mask of pure joy.
“This is so amazing, Bryna. I can’t wait for you to tell me what you think.”
She swallowed. He was so happy. It had to be good. She hated being skeptical. She needed to relax and live in the moment.
Taking a deep breath, she peeled back the foil and took a small bite of the burrito. It was everything—full of spices and tender chicken. There were a million things inside, and she could hardly distinguish the mush, but it was amazing. Flat-out best burrito she had ever had in her life.
“Oh my God,” she murmured.
He smiled triumphantly. “I told you so.”
“I would have never guessed this heaven was on a beat-up truck in the middle of nowhere.”
“I know. I’m glad you like it.”
“Learn something new every day.”
“You’ve never eaten from a food truck before?” he asked.
She shook her head. “Not in L.A.”
“They have them in L.A.”
She shrugged. “Not where I live.”
“Well, you should get out more!”
“I am.”
She meaningfully looked at him, and he smiled bigger.
They finished their food and piled back into his Mustang. She was still in shock about the food truck. She was used to good food but usually fancy food. She’d had a chef growing up, and burritos hadn’t exactly been on the menu.
She was so lost in thought about the burrito experience that she almost didn’t notice when they pulled up to the movie. Her eyes widened.
“A drive-in?”
“Yeah. They show all the best movies. I thought it would be better than some blockbuster.”
“I haven’t been to one since I was a kid. My dad used to take me before he—” She cut herself off. She didn’t really want Cam to know who her dad was yet. “He just worked a lot.”
“Sounds like my dad.”
“What are we seeing?” she asked, quickly changing the subject.
“Casablanca.”
“Good choice.”
Cam paid for their tickets and bought them popcorn that she had no intention of eating, and then they found a spot near the center of the place. People were staring at his car, and she didn’t blame them. It was a classic.
They snuggled in close together as the movie started, and Cam rested his arm across her shoulders. She had always loved Casablanca. It was a film her mother used to play on repeat when she was younger. Bryna knew every line, but it didn’t stop her from admiring the beautiful work.
Cam’s tentatively laced their fingers together. She tilted her head and rested it on his shoulder, whispering the lines under her breath.
“So, you’ve seen this one before, huh?”
She nodded. “It’s one of my mother’s favorites.”
“Good.”
As the closing lines rolled through, Bryna felt a tear come to her eye, just like Ingrid Bergman’s as Humphrey Bogart delivered his famous line, “Here’s looking at you, kid.”
As Ingrid turned to walk onto the plane, Cam tilted Bryna’s chin up to look at him. He brushed his nose against hers. His lips were so invitingly close, yet her thoughts strayed to the closing of the movie where Ingrid left the man she loved, at his request, to be with another man. It felt just like love…heartbreaking.
“I’m going to kiss you now,” Cam whispered, breaking her from her thoughts.
“I’m surprised you haven’t already.”
“I wanted to make sure you were okay with it.”
She smiled. No one had ever checked to make sure before. “I’m very okay.”
His lips met hers, soft and tender. It was a question wrapped in the u
ncertainty of how she would respond. She pressed her lips harder against him, wanting to forget, to not think about anything in that moment. She wanted to get swept away and lost in his lips. She wanted a kiss that would make her mind go blank and the world tip.
And it was a good kiss.
Cam pulled away, and she hoped the guilt wasn’t on her face for thinking of another kiss in his stead.
He kissed her on the cheek once and then pulled out of the drive-in with a satisfied smile on his face.
Her mind was still lost on that kiss. It had been good. He was nice and sweet. They got along. Everything seemed to be going in the right direction. It wasn’t what she had expected out of the date, but that was for the better. She couldn’t keep doing the same things and expect different results. Like with Hugh. Or Eric.
She shut her mind down. She was not going to think about Eric anymore.
Cam drove up to the gate of her apartment complex and punched in the code to get in. “I had a great time,” he told her as he rounded the corner.
“Me, too,” she said with a smile. “Do you want to…” She trailed off when she saw the car in front of their building.
A big, shiny Jeep.
Eric’s Jeep.
“DO I WANT TO…” Cam prompted.
She had been about to invite him up, but there was no way that was happening now. If Eric were up there, they would be walking into a land mine. “Do you want to walk me to my door?”
“Of course.”
She couldn’t tell if he was disappointed. She didn’t know him well enough to judge his mood in that way. Maybe he still thought she would invite him inside once they got up to the door.
He parked, and she walked around to his side. They walked hand in hand into the building. The elevator ride was charged. She could tell he wanted to say something more but was waiting for her move. Yet she couldn’t make the move. She couldn’t produce the invitation with Eric one step inside her apartment.
Well, she could, of course. She could walk right inside with Cam and pull him into her bedroom with a smirk. The old Bri would have done that in a heartbeat. Less than a heartbeat. But she didn’t want to hurt Eric. She cared about Eric. They were friends…of sorts before she had found out that the basis for that friendship was based on unsubstantiated lies.
So, no flaunting the new guy yet. It was one date. She would give it some time.
“I’d love for you to come in,” she said hesitantly. “But I’m not sure I’m…ready for this yet.”
“Oh,” he said. He seemed surprised. “That’s okay. We can take things slow.”
“I’d like that.” Even though she had never gone slow a day in her life.
“I want to do this again,” he said. “Maybe next week?”
“Ambitious. Asking for another date at the end of the night.”
“I like being around you. You’re beautiful and sweet and make me smile.”
Sweet? Shit! Had anyone ever said that to me before?
“Well, you’re in luck. I like you, too. But…I can’t do next week. It’s an away game.”
He laughed softly. “I’ll always be competing with football. How about this? You name the time, and we’ll go whenever you’re free.”
“That sounds good.”
He placed his hand on her cheek and slowly kissed her. “Good night,” he whispered against her lips.
“Night.”
She waited until he disappeared around the corner and into the elevator before breathing regularly again. She turned around and braced herself for what was about to happen. Her thick skin would be needed for this encounter. She couldn’t be soft and pliable. It was hard enough, adjusting to that with Cam, someone who didn’t know her at all. Eric would eat her alive with that attitude.
She pushed open the door and walked inside with her head held high. Eric was seated on the couch, watching some horrendous Kardashian show with Trihn and Stacia. It was almost comical.
With concerned wide eyes, both girls looked over at her at the same time. Eric’s expression was entirely different. He looked ravenous, and it was so painful that she almost looked away.
“Hey,” he said, standing before anyone else could say anything.
“What are you doing here?” she demanded, closing herself off. “Aren’t football players holed up out of town?”
“I’m not a football player anymore, Bri. Remember?”
“Right. Career-ending injury and all. Still doesn’t explain why you’re in my apartment.”
“Um,” Trihn murmured, “we’ll go to our rooms or something. Come on, Stacia.”
“No need. Eric was just leaving.”
“No, I wasn’t. I’m not leaving. So, let’s go to your room where we can talk,” he said.
Trihn and Stacia shifted uncomfortably. She knew they were wondering what she was thinking, but she couldn’t pull her eyes from Eric. He looked run-down with circles under his eyes and a five o’clock shadow. He still had on his LV State coach’s polo and khakis. His hair was a little rumpled, but it was sexy. Not that she was thinking of him like that at all. She needed to look away.
“You’re so damn stubborn,” she said.
“Me?” He took a step toward her in a fury. He was breathing heavily, and then he stopped himself and took a breath. “Sorry,” he mumbled to Trihn and Stacia. “Let’s go, Bri. We need to talk.”
“I have nothing to say to you.”
“Second door on the left,” Trihn told him pointedly.
Bryna glared at her. “Thanks.”
Trihn shrugged and gave her a mischievous look. Eric walked down the hallway, and against her will, she followed behind him into her room. This wasn’t a good idea. In fact, this was the opposite of a good idea.
He slammed the door shut behind her and then pushed her back against it. She was taken off guard as her body collided with the door. He grabbed her face in his hands, and then his mouth was on her. Possessively. Achingly desperate and demanding. Tension, sweet tension, rippled between them. It was like it had a life of its own. Suddenly, her hands were wrapped up in his shirt, drawing him closer. His hands dug into her hair, crushing them together. His tongue flicked against hers, and she groaned into his mouth.
No. Wait. No. This wasn’t supposed to happen.
She shoved him with all her strength and took a step away from the door. Her heart was ricocheting throughout her chest, and she didn’t know if there was enough oxygen in the room to keep up with the gasping breaths she was taking.
“What are you doing?” she cried breathlessly.
“Kissing you, goddamn it!”
“You can’t just kiss me!”
“I just did. And you wanted me to kiss you. I can’t fucking pretend with you. Why are you pushing me away?”
He took a step closer, and her back pressed into the door once more. Part of her waited for his lips to be on hers again, and she told herself there was no reason to be disappointed when it hadn’t come.
“I was on a date tonight!” she spat.
“Stacia mentioned that.”
Bryna narrowed her eyes. “That couldn’t have anything to do with you being here?”
“Of course it does. What the fuck, Bri? You’re dating now? Who is this guy?”
“Yes, I’m dating! And it’s none of your fucking business who I date.”
“We slept together!”
“And I told you, we couldn’t be together!” she yelled back. “So, it still means you have no opinion on the matter.”
“How can you say that after that kiss? You’re afraid of being hurt. I know you. I know what happened with Jude.”
She cringed at the name.
“I was there for you that day. I saw what you were like. I know this Hugh guy did a number on you, too. I know your family fucked you up. Let me be the one to put it all back together.”
“Don’t you see? You won’t put it back together. Whatever you think this is, is a lie. I was only around you because I thought thi
s could never happen. I don’t want this at all.”
“What do you want then?” he demanded. “Stacia said you’re not digging that douche anymore, and now, you’re dating some film student? This isn’t you.”
“Maybe I don’t want to be me anymore!” she cried. She threw her hands out and shook her head. Why is all of this so hard for him to grasp? “All I do is cause people a lot of problems. I get called a bitch and a slut, and I’ve never cared before, but I’m not a slut. For once, it’s nice to be with a guy who doesn’t treat me like one.”
Eric looked sad at the accusation. “I never did.”
“You fucked me in the locker room!”
“That’s not because you’re a slut, Bryna,” he said softly. He took a step toward her as if he could make her understand. “It’s because I’m crazy about you. When you’re not trying so hard to be someone else, this works.” He gestured between them.
Bryna rubbed her forehead in frustration. “I can’t do this tonight. I don’t want to fight. I came back from a date, and you’re ruining it.” She sighed and looked back up at him. “You should go. I want us to be friends again, but it doesn’t seem like that’s going to happen. So…just go.”
“You’re right,” he said finally. “We’re not just friends. I want so much more than that.”
He leaned down and softly kissed her on the lips. His hands cupped her face, and she unconsciously leaned into him.
“I want this.”
“Eric,” she whimpered.
His hand went to her heart.
“And this.”
He kissed her again as his hands moved to grab her hips. He pulled her flush against him. “And this.”
Then, his hands climbed up her short skirt as he pushed her back against the door. “And this.”
“St-stop,” she whispered feebly.
“Tell me you don’t want this. I know you do. I can feel it.” His fingers dug into the soft flesh of her inner thigh.
“I do…but…”
He drew circles up her thigh, closer and closer and closer. She closed her legs against him. She couldn’t…
“Why must you fight me?”
“Please,” she whispered as he spread her legs farther apart again.
As his finger trailed along the line of her thong, she wasn’t sure if she was even fighting him anymore.