Life In Reverse

by Beth Michele

  Chris pokes his head in. “Where are you t-taking Ember tonight?”

  “Not sure, still. I was thinking about either The Moth StorySLAM or the Village Vanguard.” Sweat gathers under the neck of my shirt and I look over at Chris. “I’m fucking nervous.”

  “Why?”

  I shrug, working my jaw back and forth. “I’ve never cared about another girl the way I care about her. It’s pretty fucking scary, actually.”

  “I imagine love is.” Chris grips the doorframe, eyes full of intent. “I d-don’t know. She seems like she feels the same. I saw the way she was looking at you last night. Speaking of which,” he smirks, “that sister of hers is a real character. Don’t you think?”

  I’m too focused on the first thing he said. My brain taking more time than usual to process. “What? Oh yeah, she’s a character all right. She might be available too.”

  “Anyway.” He taps a finger against the wood. “I hope it goes the way you want it to. You d-deserve it.”

  “So do you.” I snag my keys from the bedside table then walk over to him. We’ve known each other long enough that I know what’s coming next.

  His voice lowers, eyes avoiding my stare. “Deserving it and being able to g-get it are two different things.”

  “Bullshit,” I snap, and his head lifts. “Stop using your speech impediment as a reason to bail out of life.” He opens his mouth, but I don’t give him a chance to speak. “Because I know all about that, remember? So you stutter, big fucking deal. You had years of speech therapy and it’s hardly even noticeable anymore. Plus, it’s not who you are. This conversation is getting old and you better get your shit together and ask out that cute chick from the diner who likes you,” I grin, “or else I’ll do it for you.”

  His eyes narrow into fine slits and he lets out an annoyed growl. “You w-wouldn’t.”

  “Oh, I would.” I hike up the collar of my jacket. “On that note, I’m outta here.” I brush past him and he chuckles.

  “Good luck.”

  THE ELEVATOR RIDE up to Ember’s apartment takes too fucking long. I tap my foot against the floor, checking my appearance on the mirrored wall for the tenth time. The numbers ding by at a slow crawl and I tell them to hurry the fuck up under my breath. Even twenty-four hours is too long to be away from her now. Eventually, the doors open and I dart out of the car, scanning the hallway for apartment 88B.

  As the number comes into view, my steps falter. I give myself a minute, rolling my shoulders and craning my neck from side to side. Then I take those last few strides and knock on the door—and wait. After too much time and when I’m beginning to think maybe she changed her mind, the door opens—and my jaw hits the ground.

  My gaze sweeps over her, a slow drag starting at knee-high black boots and leading to jeans in the same shade, up to a green top cut low to the dip of her breasts. Dark silky hair spills in loose waves over smooth, creamy shoulders. Her beautiful face—free of makeup except for a little sparkle on her eyes, lips painted in a soft red gloss.

  I brace my arm against the doorframe. “Wow. You look… wow.”

  Shiny lips that make me want to be covered in gloss tilt at the corners as she surveys me from head to toe. My standard jeans and black shirt are not that impressive, but she seems to think differently. “You look wow, too.” She opens the door wider. “Come in.”

  “Nice place.” I dig around for any other signs of life. “Where are Troy and Avery?”

  “They went out to grab something to eat. Come on.” She walks ahead of me and I blatantly stare at her ass because I can’t help myself. “I’ll give you the quick tour.” She gestures with her hand. “Living room.”

  My eyes travel the space, zeroing in on family pictures lining the walls, evidence of her sculpting talent covering tables and spanning shelves. Various pieces of nostalgia sit on top of a television cabinet. A brightly colored painting of Mickey Mouse hangs in the corner and makes me smile. While the apartment is filled with many things, in no way does it look cluttered. “I’m not sure I’ve ever seen an apartment this clean.” I chuckle. “Certainly not mine.”

  She flicks me a grin over her shoulder. “That’s all me. If it were up to Avery, all the furniture would be draped with dirty clothes. This,” she waves her hand like a wand, “is the kitchen.”

  “Nice roses.”

  “Thanks.” She glances up at me with a soft smile. “Some guy gave them to me,” she says in a quiet voice as we make our way out of the kitchen. “You’ve already seen the living room.” She points to the right as I follow her down the hall. “Bathroom. And that door,” her chin lifts, “leads to Avery’s room. I’m a bit scared to walk in there so you’ll just have to use your imagination.” Crossing over to the opposite side, she reaches in to flick the light switch on the wall. “And this is my room.”

  All at once, her scent attacks me. It’s everywhere, wrapping me up in so much fucking sweetness my chest fills with it. Distracted, I struggle to absorb everything that is Ember— sculptures on colorful shelves, picture frames full of memories, blown-up prints of sunsets, and another small poster of Mickey Mouse. A short distance away I spot the snow globe I bought for her and my heart jumps in my chest. “You kept it,” I murmur, walking over to pick it up from her dresser. As I shake it, Ember comes over too, and together we watch the tiny white particles fly around inside the cheap plastic.

  “Of course I kept it. It means something to me.”

  Means.

  I set the globe down then turn to Ember, trying like hell not to focus on the present tense of her words. Vulnerability flashes in her eyes and all the questions I want to ask die on my lips. I don’t know how I fit into her life now, and for me to push doesn’t seem fair. “I’m kind of ready to start our date. Are you?”

  “Yup. Let me just grab a jacket.” My tentative expression makes her hesitate. She looks down at herself then up to me. “What?”

  I brush back a few strands of her hair. “You fucking stun me. That’s… that’s all.” A pink flush spreads over her cheeks and along her neck. I let my fingers slide down the soft skin of her arm to entwine our hands. “Let’s go before I find reasons for us to stay.”

  We step off the elevator and weave our way through the lobby to street level. My mind still races with questions, but also with possibility. I release a breath and tell myself to have patience. It’s obvious Ember is preoccupied too—but with what, or who, I couldn’t say.

  “Where are we going?” she asks, her warm palm in mine making me realize how much I missed this—fucking hand holding is underrated. “Vance?”

  “Huh?”

  She laughs, bending her head to catch my eyes. “I asked where we’re going.”

  “You’ll see when we get there,” I retort. Her cheeks fill up and she looks like a pufferfish. “You trust me, right?”

  Her hesitation makes me think maybe that was the wrong thing to say. Until she surprises me with her answer. “I do.” Relief leaves my chest in a rush as we walk for a while, blanketed by conversation and periods of comfortable silence.

  “How do you like living here?”

  She breathes out a sigh. “I like it a lot. But at first it was hard for me to adjust. Everything was so big and in your face, and I found myself missing Oregon. But not Avery.” She laughs. “I swear the moment we got here she got down and kissed the ground. It’s like she knew she belonged here or something.” She glances up at the lights of a plane flying overhead. “I love it here now, though. The energy became addictive.” Her gaze travels down to mine. “What about you?”

  “I like it. It definitely took a while for me and Chris to get our bearings and figure things out. But everything is going well for us. Plus there’s the band which I love and….” I stop myself from what I really want to say—that being with her makes it feel like home. “Yeah, it’s good.”

  “How’s Julian? You know after you left I went to him, hoping he knew where you were.” Her voice lowers. “But he didn’t.” The
topic makes me cringe, but I’m not going to shy away from it. I’m willing to take full responsibility for being an asshole. “Anyway,” she goes on, her tone more upbeat. “Shortly after that I popped by to see him and your dad said he left for California.” I shrug off the guilt of leaving Julian behind, too. Although he told me there was nothing to forgive and we’ve moved past it.

  “He’s great. And yeah, he’s in Southern California. He works at a sports marketing firm there and he’s a real surfer boy now.” I shake my head and toss in an eye roll. “I’ve been out to visit him a few times since he moved.”

  “What’s the look for?”

  I smirk. “California was definitely made for him. The girls follow him around like he’s some kind of Greek God.”

  “I can totally see that.” She chews on her bottom lip. “What about you?”

  “What about me, what?”

  When she senses my confusion, she spells it out. “Any… girls?”

  “Nah.” I stare straight ahead now. “There’s only ever been one girl for me.”

  “Really?” she challenges, her voice teetering on the edge of a smile.

  “Yup.” I pop the P for emphasis. “Not sure if she’s interested, though. Too soon to tell.”

  “Hmph” is all she offers, her eyes like flames on the side of my face. “She’s pretty stupid if she’s not,” she adds, looking away from me as I glance over, trying to hide the grin bursting from the corner of her lips.

  “She doesn’t strike me as the stupid type,” I throw in for good measure and she laughs. Tugging on her hand, I pull her closer then come to a stop. “Here we are.”

  Bright eyes climb to a sign that says SPIN New York. To the left is the word Ping in white block lettering. I hold the glass door open and Ember walks in, her face contorting in amusement as she reads the billboard: “I got 99 problems but ping-pong ain’t one,” and then, “If you’re having pong problems I feel bad for you son.” She turns to me. “Ping-pong?”

  “Yup.”

  A contented sound leaves her throat and she smiles. “Cool.”

  A hostess greets us as Ember takes in the vast space and the first of two floors, more reminiscent of a night club than a sports club. However, as we head down to the basement, the atmosphere shifts. Twenty ping-pong courts are set up strategically in what looks like a large gym flanked by a bar and comfortable seating. Lights hang above us in frosted blues and whites, a variety of pinks, giving it a glow-in-the-dark appearance.

  I put our name in for a table. Given it’s not as crowded on a weeknight, we don’t have to wait long. Another hostess leads us to a dimly lit corner where muted red couches surround a black ping-pong table. Tiny bulbs above colorful paintings on the wall provide the only source of light.

  “I can’t wait to whip your ass,” Ember declares out of the blue, startling me. The way she says ass turns me the fuck on.

  My brow rises a notch. “Taken to swearing, have we? Must be feeling pretty confident.”

  She cocks her hip against the side of the table, a smirk forming on her lips. “I am.”

  “I wouldn’t get too confident there, sweetheart. If I remember correctly, your pool skills left a lot to be desired.” I remind her with a smug grin. “Come to think of it. They sucked.”

  Ember’s eyes are saucer wide, that pretty mouth hanging open. “You’re in so much trouble,” she counters, picking up the racket like she wants to take all her aggression out on me.

  God, I fucking hope so.

  “Okay, let’s do this.” Determined, she holds the wooden paddle tight in her hand and glares at me. “Ready?”

  The bar in the back glows blue and I jerk my chin in that general direction. “Do you want a drink first? Or if you’re hungry, we can eat.”

  Her tongue darts out in a slow swipe across her lips and I swallow hard. “Scared, are you? Trying to prolong your defeat?”

  “All right, smartass.” I shrug off my jacket and toss it on the couch before we both move to our respective sides of the table. As we volley, one game turns into more and I’m surprised to discover she’s really good, beating me two out of three games. I drop my paddle on the table and scoop up my coat. “You weren’t shitting me.”

  “Nope.” She places hers down and crosses to my side. “And I have five years of camp to thank for that. Horseback riding and swimming weren’t the only things we did there.”

  “You thirsty, hungry now?”

  “Just thirsty,” she answers, shouts of encouragement and groans of defeat loud in our ears as we stroll through the lounge. Ping-pong games at various stages being played all over the room. “This place is so cool.”

  “I’m glad you like it.” A few guys leer at her as we pass by and I tug on her belt loop. I want them to know she’s mine. Or I hope she will be. “Come closer, you’re too far away.”

  The whole time we’re at the bar I keep her near. While waiting for our drinks, she fans a hand in front of her face. “It’s really hot in here. Are you hot?” She slides her arms from her jacket and lays it over the back of the chair. Tiny beads of sweat dot her forehead and as my eyes drift lower, the curve between her breasts. My tongue fights to stay inside my mouth. Her question pries my gaze away. “Are you still reading a lot?”

  “I am.” The bartender places a beer and a glass of wine down in front of us. “Last night for example, I couldn’t sleep so I read into the morning.” I sip my beer, eyeing her over the rim. “I’ve been getting into paranormal dark fantasy lately, and I was halfway through with a book so I finished it.” Her stare is hard, disconcerting. It settles on my face like a heavy weight and my hand goes to my earring, rolling it between my fingers. “Ember, what is it?”

  She moves her head back and forth, a vacant expression on her face. “I don’t want to make small talk right now, I….” Her voice trails off and she looks away for a few beats. When she comes back to me her cheeks are flushed, breathing rapid. “It’s really… hot. Can we get some air?”

  “Of course.” I retrieve my wallet and toss a few bills on the counter. As she grabs her jacket from the chair, I reach for her hand to entwine our fingers together then lead us outside. Once we reach the sidewalk, Ember lets out a visible breath. “Are you feeling all right? Do you want me to take you home?”

  “No,” she replies a little too quickly. “I don’t want to go home. I just need air is all.”

  “Okay.” The mood hovers thick as we walk the city streets. Ember is almost too quiet and I’m starting to think the worst. The longer the silence, the more the worry eats away at me. “Ember, are you sure you’re all right?” I ask again. She nods, only it doesn’t match up with the stiffness in her shoulders, the rigid set of her jaw. Unease continues to take root in my stomach until I’m ready to erupt. We turn a corner and Ember ducks into an alleyway between two shops, as I wait for whatever it is to come pouring out.

  The heels of her boots slap against the pavement as she paces. With my fingers in a fist, I squeeze tight and brace myself for whatever I have coming—that I most certainly fucking deserve.

  “After you left….” She takes a slow breath in then lets it out. “I told you that I blamed my mother. And I did. And then I blamed you. But when all was said and done, and the anger subsided, I blamed myself. I became one of those girls who thought that,” she stops pacing and looks up at me, the pain of regret abundant in her eyes, “that maybe if I had only told you sooner how I felt or,” she lets go of a sharp swallow, “did something differently. That you wouldn’t have left.”

  “Oh, Ember—”

  “No. Let me just get this out,” she presses. Another breath falls in the air between us. I’m not sure if it’s hers or mine. “Avery used to tell me that for someone who was so outspoken, and didn’t care what others thought, I have such a hard time saying what I want for myself. And she was right. But I don’t want to do that anymore. Especially not with you. I don’t want to be afraid anymore.” Her gaze shifts, eyes softening. “You asked me a q
uestion, and I’d like to answer it now.” I nod, my breath held tight in my throat.

  “You asked me if I was in love with Grant.” The mention of his name makes something wilt in my chest, makes him real—makes me realize all that time she was with him, she could have been with me. Ember exhales a ragged sigh then slays me with her eyes. “I tried to return his feelings, I did. He’s a great guy, but…,” a single tear sneaks out and cascades down her skin, “I couldn’t be with him, not when my heart belonged to someone else.” Her voice goes quiet, too quiet, as if her words might drift away. “When you left, you took it with you, and I didn’t feel it again until I saw you on the train.” She shakes her head as more tears roll down her cheeks. “The love, it just wouldn’t go away. It still won’t.”

  Closing the distance between us, I cradle her face in my hands, thumbing away her tears. “God, Ember. I love you. From the moment you walked into my house,” I smile, “into my life… with that damn Mickey Mouse shirt and those red sneakers, it’s been you. It will always be you… for me,” I murmur, gliding my fingers across her cheek. “I couldn’t stop loving you. You never left my heart.” I don’t get any more words out because she flings her arms around my neck, sobbing messy, uncontrollable tears—but life is messy, and somehow I’ve learned that the hard way. And holding her now, it’s like… like holding life in my arms, embracing it, in all its unpredictability and craziness.

  “I love you,” she whispers between soft cries, and something inside me gives way and my heart cracks open—and I come spilling out—all of me; the real me, the flawed me. Just me I guess. My whole body gives in, sagging against her, finally setting me free. Because this is where I belong.

  When her limbs stop shaking, she draws back and presses her forehead to mine. “We’ve lost so much time. I already knew what was in my heart. I wasn’t about to make you jump through hoops to get to it,” she says softly, the tears still falling.