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Quirks & Kinks

Page 12

by Laurel Ulen Curtis


  “Nah. It’s just a cover of an old Hunter Holston song.”

  “Oh. Then I take it back. I’m absolutely not impressed with you at all.”

  The corner of his mouth curved and his hand shot out to squeeze my hip playfully.

  “Thanks,” he said through a laugh, confirming that I’d finally broken all of our carefully crafted tension and found a way to span the gap an unexpected evening and secrets had created.

  We were back to Easie and Anderson.

  “You do this every Wednesday night?”

  “I do.”

  “And there aren’t swarms of women hanging on your every word? Waiting with bated breath, hoping you’ll sign their heaving boobs?”

  “Hah!” he barked, a startled laugh nearly choking him as it surged out of his throat. “No swarms. No hoards.”

  Just one at a time then.

  Inclining my head, I studied his eyes as they studied me, moving from one feature to the next as itchy fingers stroked at the skin of my hip.

  I started to tingle from their constant rubbing, living in the comfort of their silence as we stared at one another.

  We still had so much to learn about the other, but to a certain extent, Ashley was right. All of our untapped sexual tension was interfering with our conversation.

  “When did you learn to play guitar?” I asked.

  “A few years ago,” he answered, leaning into the stool behind him and finally pulling his hand away from me.

  Sap that I was, I missed it.

  Looking down to my bare toes, I scuffed the wood floor with my flip flop once before looking back to his face.

  “Wow. You really are good for just a few years of playing.”

  “So I did impress you,” he teased, leaning in and bumping my ankle carefully with the toe of his boot.

  I shook my head with a smile. “Some advice?”

  “Sure.”

  I leaned in closer and dropped my voice to a seductive whisper. “Don’t call a woman a liar.” He chuckled, and I leaned closer. “Ever.”

  “Noted,” he agreed just before reaching up and tucking my hair behind my ear softly.

  “Good,” I said, clearing my throat and taking a small step back.

  Fuck, Easie. You are an idiot. When you look back on tonight and remember this ruined moment, you’ll have no one to blame but yourself.

  “Can I assume that a place called Hunger Spot has food? Or do I need to go shake down some employees and cause an all out riot?”

  “I’m pretty sure they’ve got food,” he comforted, his eyes lighting with mirth and life.

  “Good. I’ll be back then. I’m going to go order some before I die of starvation.”

  “My, my, we’re dramatically hungry tonight, aren’t we?”

  “I had carrots and ranch dressing while I watched the episode tonight. That’s it.”

  Actually, I hadn’t eaten any of them courtesy of my Anderson meltdown. He didn’t need to know.

  “How was the show?”

  “You were good.”

  “That’s it?”

  “Okay. You were really good.”

  He laughed and shook his head before standing up. “Go order food. Maybe some sustenance will improve your vocabulary.”

  I narrowed my eyes.

  “I’ll be here when you get back.”

  Giving him attitude by turning on my heel and heading directly for the bar, I put an extra sway into my walk and listened to him chuckle as I did.

  The bartender made ordering easy, pointing out the quickest, most filling items on the menu at the prompting of my growling stomach. His smile was genuine and a little bit flirty, but the blond of his hair and the hazel of his eyes did nothing to elicit an extra beat of my heart or a calming flip of my stomach.

  All of that waited for me in the far corner of the room.

  Eager to get back to it, I thanked the bartender with an easy wave, and he promised to let me know when my order was up.

  Pushing my way past a few crowded clumps of friends, I finally emerged into a chasm of empty space and cleared my view of Anderson.

  His eyes were as happy as his smiling lips, and the low, glowing light of the bar made his eyes seem like they were lit from within.

  But he wasn’t looking at me.

  I followed his eyes all the way to Tammy’s long, dark hair and exposed, silky legs and locked on just in time to see her glance my way.

  Her eyes never met mine, but a chill ran up my spine as she smiled a cat-like smile and fell into a strut on a path that could only lead to Anderson.

  His smile never faded as she walked right into his arms, wrapping him in a familiar hug that made my heart squeeze with a similar fervor.

  Anderson laughed a little, blowing her hair out of his mouth and pushing her back with a gentle grip on her upper arms. He didn’t set her away though, but instead, seemed to hold her there, watching her closely as she spoke and tucking his chin into his chest with mirth as she teased.

  He looked at ease with her in a way that I had only thought he was with me, their conversation steady and their touch commonplace.

  The two of them embraced with the knowledge and security of a couple. There was no denying they had some deep-seated relationship that I could only dream of superseding.

  My feet felt like they were encased in concrete as I watched, unable to look away and powerless to stop it.

  He watched her face closely as she moved into him and touched her lips to his, the meeting of the two coinciding perfectly with the stab of a big, sharp knife right through my heart.

  Air was moving in and out of my lungs, but I could scarcely breathe, and I knew something with absolute certainty.

  One moment had caused what years of smoking had yet to. Catastrophic lung failure.

  Finally able to move, I scrambled for the door, leaving behind the bartender and my food, my sister, and the guy I thought would change everything—and shoving people carelessly out of the way to do it.

  Gravel crunched under my feet as I ran, and an unrealized sob kicked and scratched its way up my throat with reckless abandon.

  I fought for myself, keeping it together long enough to get my keys out of my purse and let myself into the passenger side of my car.

  Gathering all of my strength I texted Ashley that it was time to go, leaned back into my seat, and finally let it all go.

  The frustration of my self-doubt and insecurities, my want for a meaningful relationship that no one knew I wanted, and the reality of the heartbreak of my want’s destruction.

  They all left me in a series of soul-wracking sobs, the power of their meaning shaking my entire body and draining every tear in my reserve.

  I was done being this vulnerable woman.

  I’d given the dream a test drive, and Anderson had crashed the fucking car.

  Easy Easie was gone.

  The bitch was back.

  “Sometimes the strongest thing you will ever do will be to let go of someone. It will be painful, you will suffer guilt, and you will second-guess yourself, but for your own sanity and quality of life, there will come a time where you hand them to God, with your love, and trust Him to be who and what He is. May our Lord comfort you.”

  ~ Lee Goff

  THE STARK WHITE WALLS of my apartment screamed at my foggy brain as I poured my second cup of coffee of the morning.

  I normally tried to limit my caffeine intake to one cup a day, focusing on replenishing water and electrolytes through both water and sports drinks throughout the day. Nutrition was an important part of my training for the 100 mile run I planned to do in the early fall, but after last night, my resolve was close to zero.

  “Are you alright?” Tammy asked as she walked into the kitchen. Apparently, she noticed how shitty I looked and felt.

  “Yeah, I’m just . . .” I scrubbed my face. Shook my head. “I don’t know. Everything was good last night until . . . well, until it wasn’t.”

  I didn’t understand wha
t had happened. Easie had gone to get food and never come back. I looked everywhere for her and Ashley, but I never found either of them.

  Worried, I sent her several text messages, all without a response.

  “Easie left without saying goodbye, so I guess I’m just hoping everything’s alright.”

  Tammy puffed out an uncomfortable laugh. Looked at the ground and back up again. “Don’t hold your breath.”

  “What do you mean?” I asked, turning to face her completely.

  “I mean, everything isn’t okay.”

  “What? How do you know that?”

  “She thinks we’re dating.”

  “She thinks we’re dating who?”

  I took a sip of my coffee.

  “You and I. Each other. She thinks you’re dating me.”

  Brown liquid spewed everywhere, coating the counter and the front of my white t-shirt. “WHAT? Why in the fucking hell would she think that?”

  Silence.

  Tammy cocked a perfectly groomed brow, and that was all it took for everything to make sense. I was completely guilty of still seeing just my best friend when I looked at her. The example of feminine beauty she was today was no more than background noise.

  And then . . . I remembered it was even worse.

  “Jesus Christ, you have got to stop kissing me in public!”

  “Okay,” she agreed, laughing and grabbing a paper towel from the rack to clean up my mess. “I’ll just do in private. No problem.”

  “Tammy!” I snapped, slamming my cup onto the counter so hard she winced.

  “Okay, okay. Chill.” My eyes closed as I took a deep breath. “Only on weekends.”

  Not opening my eyes, I let my head roll back. “Is this what a stroke feels like?”

  “Relax, Romeo,” she laughed. “I’ll stop cockblocking you.”

  “I’d say thank you if you deserved it. You caused this whole fucking mess.”

  “I was just looking out for you.”

  “Looking out for me?”

  “I guess I just wanted to see how much you mean to her.”

  “Jesus. This is all because of some protective bullshit? Thanks, but no thanks.” I rubbed a rough hand down my face.

  Tammy had been around for everything. Before, during, and after. She knew everything about every version of myself, and I knew she had my health and happiness in mind when she stepped in.

  But fuck that. I was an adult man. I could make my own decisions. Of course, there was a ripe irony in that statement alone. But I could make any declaration about my life that I wanted because it was just that.

  My life.

  Sensing my mood and wanting to avoid a fight as much as I did, she moved on.

  “Seriously though, you’re in for a world of pain when you see her again.”

  “Why? We aren’t together,” I reasoned immediately out of reflex. I almost rolled my eyes at myself. We’d both been saying that a lot, but it never sounded true.

  “Riiight. You guys are the most couple-y non-couple on record.” My head dropped backward on my shoulders in exasperation. “And that chick has got a wicked streak inside her. You better wear a cup.”

  I knew Easie had a hard facade she used as an excuse not to go deeper, but I didn’t think she was actually malicious.

  “She’s not that bad.”

  “Fuck, it’s gonna hurt when she knees you in the unprotected balls, Bro. Maybe you don’t know her as well as I thought.”

  “Well, I guess we’ll find out soon. I have a meeting with her and Larry in an hour. The ratings are in.”

  “Good luck,” she sing-songed, turning with a feminine swish and waltzing toward her room.

  It was going to be fine.

  I didn’t need luck. Right?

  I mean, how bad could she be?

  God, this was fucking bad.

  I thought I’d seen an ice stare before, but at the realization of Easie’s, I could confidently say I never had.

  Her normally vibrant blue eyes sharpened like shards of glass, reaching out to stab me with each look. Any interaction between us was a forced cordiality at best, and to make matters worse, Larry had just given us the news of a lifetime—under any other circumstances.

  “So what you’re saying—” Easie started, trying to confirm all of the uncomfortable details Larry had already announced.

  “Is that you guys are it? Yes. Ratings are in, projections are good, and the network has just confirmed a full season of guaranteed episodes starring the two of you. What else do you need me to repeat?”

  She shook her head, and then put her hand to her mouth, looking as though she might be sick. While she tried not to puke on Larry, all I could do was look at her. Beg her with telepathy to look back at me.

  “Why do you both look like I just killed your puppies? This should be the best news you’ve heard in at least a year. There should be jumping and whooping and a generally cheery disposition.”

  When neither one of us said anything, his face grew even more concerned. “Seriously? What the hell, guys?”

  “I think we’re just taking it in,” I answered for the both of us, trying to play the part of an adversary, but all it earned me was another dirty look.

  So noted. I would be able to do absolutely no right today.

  “Take it in better,” Larry commanded, standing from his chair with a frown marring the normally smooth line of his brow.

  I stood to shake his hand, offering, “No worries. We at least have a week to get out of this funk before we have to shoot.”

  “No,” he refuted immediately, looking from Easie to me and back again. “Didn’t I mention we secured a full season deal?”

  “Well, yeah—”

  “That means we can speed up the shooting schedule. You guys are shooting an episode today.”

  “Today?” I asked with a resigned quiet at the same time that Easie shrieked it.

  I’m pretty sure I heard a dog or two yelp from somewhere outside.

  “Fucking today,” Larry confirmed for both of us, mocking, “Take the word ‘to’ and the word ‘day’ and fucking smash them together. Today.”

  Shit.

  “You can have forty-five minutes for lunch, or chain smoking, or whatever it is the two of you do, but at the end of that time, I expect you to be in makeup and ready to roll.” He moved to round the table, shoving his chair dramatically and dropping two identical packets to the surface of the table below.

  “Your scripts.”

  I waited for Easie to go first.

  “Fine,” she gritted out through clenched teeth, folding her small body into itself and practically radiating rage.

  “Yeah,” I agreed, as Larry made for the exit of the room, obviously not really caring if I was okay with it or not.

  Easie stood up quickly, rushing to follow Larry out rather than risk being left in the room with me alone, but I pinched closed her route to the door and put my hands up in a placating gesture.

  “Easie, please, hear me out.”

  “No.”

  “Come on,” I pleaded, “Give me a chance to—”

  “Fuck that shit and your fucking face, Anderson Evans!” she yelled, pointing a more than irritated finger directly at my offending mug.

  I reached out to grab her hand, hoping that touching her would go over slightly better than all of my attempts at verbal reasoning.

  It didn’t.

  Her other arm swung wildly, taking a twisted path but intending to end right where Tammy predicted it would.

  I shifted to the side to protect myself, but took my hand off of hers for fear I would hurt her.

  She took the change in my position as an invitation to slide right by me and out of the room.

  “Easie.”

  Hope bloomed when she actually turned to look at me one last time.

  Knowing she wouldn’t let me go into a full explanation, I offered the only thing I could. “I’m sorry.”

  And then crashed and burned when
I saw the look on her face. It was closed and hard and unwilling to look back.

  “Yeah,” she laughed without humor. “Me too. You have no fucking idea how much.”

  With one last sweep of her hair, she gave me her back, exiting the room and effectively shutting me out for good.

  I might not have known before I got here, but I sure as hell knew now.

  I needed luck. And lots of it.

  AT FIRST, I’D THOUGHT Easie’s overall hatred of all things me would make for an awkward day of shooting. Especially since the script called for even more intimacy than we’d been asked for before.

  Blindfolded, she was required to fully trust me, follow my actions, and wait for her only cues through our bodies. I knew it would be hard for her, and it was pretty fucking hard for me. The amount of pressure I felt to handle her respectfully was nearly crippling.

  But I had underestimated her completely, and her sheer talent—both raw and cultivated—mesmerized me more and more as the day went on.

  She completely left herself and surrendered to the character, drawing me in and challenging me to resist her charms.

  I’d been failing miserably all day, but this scene was the worst.

  With her hands on me and her smell in my nose, she consumed me. Transported me out of my role and into myself and erased all signs of rational thinking.

  When my lips touched hers, it felt real and right and free. I couldn’t stop myself, giving into the temptation was too easy and resisting was too hard, so I let my tongue control my mind instead of the other way around, slipping it inside her mouth when a tiny gasp created the opening.

  Lost in the feel and taste of her, I didn’t measure myself but rather got lost in her all over again, squeezing her body tightly against mine and allowing my tongue a probing caress.

  She gave back to me equally at first, caving to my body’s will and following along wherever I might take her.

  And then her signature dirty word became mine.

  Until.

  My worst nightmares took shape as she went cold. Both in reception and action, she broke free from herself and the character and punished me despite the ramifications.

  Metal and regret flooded my mouth when she bit down on my unwelcome tongue. I yelped in both surprise and pain, and Howie immediately put an end to a scene that had already been broken.

 

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