Gentleman Nine

by Penelope Ward

  I pondered that for a moment. “That doesn’t make sense to me.”

  “I know. I just made it up.”

  “You suck, Channing.” I laughed.

  “If you think about it long enough, though, it starts to make sense. And you’re smiling. That’s what matters.” He chuckled. “Okay, in all seriousness…sometimes people have to learn lessons the hard way. He’ll figure out his mistake and come back. It’s just a matter of whether you’ll be there when he does. The question is, if he came back today, would you take him back?”

  “I honestly don’t know. A part of me thinks yes, only because that part of me still loves him. You don’t get over that so easily after nearly a decade together. But then another part of me doesn’t feel like I could ever fully trust him not to leave again. Anyway, it doesn’t matter. He’s clearly not here asking me to take him back.”

  “No, but he will be.”

  “You seem so sure of that…”

  He crossed his arms. “I am.”

  Channing was looking me straight in the eyes, and the intensity of that prompted me to change the subject.

  I sighed. “Alright…let’s talk about something other than Rory. Like literally anything.”

  He crumpled up a napkin and threw it at me playfully. “How about moldy cheese?”

  “Sure.”

  “I’m serious. What the fuck did you have growing in your refrigerator? I cleaned all that shit out, by the way.”

  Mortified, I said, “Oh. I thought you were joking. You’re actually talking about cheese. I’m sorry…I’ve neglected the fridge lately. It was the one thing I didn’t get to tackle before you moved in. I couldn’t tell you what was in there. I—”

  “You don’t owe me any explanations. It’s your kitchen…your moldy cheese. Not my place to judge.”

  “You think I’m a pig, don’t you?”

  “Far from it.”

  “Well, I have no excuse for that.”

  “I beg to differ. How about…you work long hours, and your head isn’t on straight lately because your heart is broken. Fuck the cheese. I’m sorry for even mentioning it. I was just messing with you. You said to change the subject, and for some reason that was the first thing that came to mind.”

  Attempting to change the subject yet again, I asked, “When do you start your new job again?”

  “Bright and early tomorrow.”

  “Wow. Okay. You know how to get there from here?”

  “I need to check the train route online.”

  “You’ll take the Orange Line to the Red. I think the stop is Kendall Square.”

  “I’ll figure it out.” He smiled, pouring me the last drop of wine. “Tell me more about this school you work at. You like it there?”

  Now, that was something I could never get enough of talking about.

  “Yes. I love my job, actually. It’s a school for kids with developmental challenges, like autism and Down’s syndrome. I’m a TA in one of the classrooms. Then, a few nights a week, I work with a special needs adult, taking him out into the community.”

  “That’s got to be a handful.”

  “It is. But it’s very rewarding.”

  “Well, they’re lucky to have you.”

  I didn’t know what else to say. “Thank you.” I’d never been great at accepting compliments.

  We opened another bottle of wine and spent the next couple of hours reminiscing. I’d forgotten how easy Channing was to talk to, and with each passing hour, I was less intimidated by his physical presence. The last time we’d really talked at great length like this was before Rory and I got together. It reminded me of those early days after Lainey’s death.

  After our extended lunch, I felt a great deal better about him staying with me. Channing was still the same wildly charismatic guy I remembered, but he’d definitely matured. He seemed sensitive to my feelings, and I no longer feared that he’d disrespect my space in any way. In fact, the only thing I really feared after our afternoon together was that I might get used to him being around and not want him to leave.

  CHAPTER THREE

  * * *

  CHANNING

  God, she looked exactly the same as when she was sixteen. It made me feel like a perv, even though I knew she was in her twenties and only a couple of years younger than me.

  How she hadn’t aged was beyond me. The same petite body. The same straight, long, dark auburn hair with the exact same bangs cut straight across the forehead. The same brown doe eyes. They used to be full of wonder, but tonight they were mostly dark.

  Fucking asshole took away the light in her eyes.

  My mother always told me I shouldn’t go to bed angry, that it would affect my dreams and that the negative energy would carry over into the next day. But as I lay in bed that night, I really couldn’t help obsessing over the bomb that Amber dropped. Never in a million years would I have predicted that he was the one responsible for their break up.

  She was so upset and wound up over Rory; I wished I could have just kissed the fuck out of her to make her forget—or even better, show her what it’s like to be with a real man. That may have been an inappropriate thought, but nevertheless, I had it. A lot of inappropriate thoughts were moving in and out of my head. And that was pretty funny considering I couldn’t ever act on them.

  Years ago, I’d come to terms with the fact that Amber and Rory were together, because I assumed at the very least, he would do right by her and cherish her. It was the only reason I didn’t beat the shit out of him when I came home from college and realized he’d broken our pact, pursued her, and had fucking taken her virginity.

  Back when we were teenagers, I’d always known that Rory wanted Amber. What I never considered was that she could return his feelings. The three of us would hang out together, watching movies or just chilling down in my basement, and I’d catch him staring at her when she wasn’t looking. He’d be fixated on her, and I would be fixated on his fixation with her. She was oblivious to his feelings and even more oblivious to mine, because I hid them really well. It was no exaggeration to say I’d probably hooked up with all of Amber’s friends. So, yeah, I was really good at throwing her off. I’m certain she never suspected that I liked her as more than a friend. My actions certainly never demonstrated that.

  None of the girls I’d hooked up with in high school or college meant anything to me. Amber was really the only girl I’d ever developed feelings for at the time. They never escalated to the point of love, but I cared about her, wanted to protect her.

  Before Lainey died, Amber was merely my sister’s friend. After Lainey passed away, Amber and I got closer. She was the only person keeping me sane during one of the most difficult periods of my life—those months after my sister’s death.

  But actually dating Amber back then was never something I considered a realistic option. I was too young and unpredictable. Not to mention, I was the spawn of an asshole, womanizing father. What if the apple didn’t fall far from the tree? I was certain I’d end up hurting her. She was like a sister to me—a sister I secretly wanted to fuck but knew I never would. And I guess my attitude was that Rory should have felt the same way since the three of us were supposed to be friends. He and I should’ve wanted to protect her, not take advantage of her. But yet, what we should’ve felt didn’t matter. We both wanted her.

  So, when Rory came to me and confessed his feelings for Amber one night, I felt like I needed to tell him how I really felt about her, too. My jealousy was through the roof, even though I didn’t think he was any kind of competition for me. That had been the one consolation—or so I thought. We agreed that since we couldn’t both have her, that neither of us would tell her how we felt. We’d come to the understanding that it was better to keep our friendship intact—both with each other and with Amber.

  I therefore didn’t feel like I needed to watch my back when I went away to the University of Florida, leaving my friends behind. I trusted that he wouldn’t move in on her and even more so,
I figured that if he did, she wouldn’t return his feelings. It was like double security in my mind.

  Homesick, I decided to transfer back to a state school after my first year in Gainesville was up. When I came home that summer and found out that they were together, it felt like the ultimate betrayal. I alienated myself from both of them for a while. During that time, my manwhore ways were worse than ever once the school year started up again. It was a bad combination of acting out due to anger along with being the new, hot guy on campus at the local college I’d transferred to.

  Over time, though, I began to accept things as they were. After all, even if Amber had been available, I knew I wasn’t the right guy for her anyway. She deserved someone who wouldn’t screw her over, someone like…Rory. He was safe. I grew to accept them together, and she and I were able to renew our friendship, although things were never exactly the same again between the three of us—especially between Rory and me. And he knew why.

  Had seeing them together still hurt like a motherfucker? Yes. But I’d accepted that he was the better man for her. Sucking up my jealousy and pride, I ended up moving on.

  So, finding out that he’d broken her heart all these years later was a tough pill to swallow. If he were in front of me right now, there was no guarantee I wouldn’t injure him.

  I flipped my pillow around and fluffed it while Kitty purred and curled up into the crook of my neck. A sneeze from behind the bedroom door was the first indication that Amber, too, wasn’t getting any sleep.

  I got up. She was leaning against the kitchen counter blowing her nose.

  “Are you okay?”

  She jumped a little. I’d startled her.

  Amber sneezed again then said, “I think I might be allergic to your pussy.”

  “Well, that’s a new one. Can’t say I’ve ever heard that before,” I joked. Then, it really hit me that she was serious. “Fuck. You’re allergic to the cat…”

  “I’m not sure, but it’s a good possibility, seeing as though I’m suddenly sneezing incessantly.”

  Shit.

  As much as it pained me to follow through with my original plan to take Kitty to the shelter, I knew that was going to be even more necessary now. I’d secretly hoped to be able to keep her around.

  “I’ll find a place for Kitty tomorrow, make some calls during my lunch break.”

  “Kitty?” She laughed. “Is that her name?”

  “Yeah. I know…not very original, but that’s what I started calling her and it stuck.”

  “I’m gonna start calling you Stud.” She stuck her hand out in jest. “Nice to meet you. I’m Bitch.”

  I took her hand, which was so small it felt breakable. “My friends call me Dick.” My smile faded into a frown when I said, “Kitty will be gone by tomorrow.”

  “No.” She blew her nose. “Don’t.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “It’s only a few months. I’ll get on some medication or something. That cat loves you. She belongs with you. It would break my heart to see you have to take her to a shelter. I can’t let you do it.” Blowing her nose again, she said in a stuffed-up voice, “By the way, I know where she came from.”

  “You do?”

  “Yes. I couldn’t sleep, so I was watching a repeat of the late evening news. A pet store on Devonshire was supposed to get a delivery of cats. The truck was parked while the driver left it unattended. They think someone broke into it and set the cats free.”

  “No shit? She’s stolen property? Maybe I’ll take her back there, then?”

  “No! You can’t.”

  “Well, I can’t let you just…be sick.”

  “It’ll be fine. Seriously. Sneezing never killed anyone.”

  “That’s pretty insane that you would want to keep her around.”

  “Yeah, well, I might just be a little insane.”

  “Actually, no, it’s how you are. You’ve always had a kind heart.”

  “A lot of good it did me.” She rolled her eyes.

  I knew she was referring to Rory and once again wanted to kick his ass.

  “God, you must think I’m such a fucking Debbie Downer,” she said. “I haven’t stopped talking about my breakup since you got here.”

  “Debbie Downer? Nah. More like Negative Nancy.” I winked.

  She sniffled. “Have I mentioned I’m really glad you’re here? I think I’ve smiled more in the last twelve hours than I have in three months.”

  And that’s exactly the reason you need to keep yourself in check, Channing.

  You can’t risk crossing a line and hurting her.

  Your job is what it’s always been, to be her friend, to make her smile.

  You weren’t supposed to mess with Amber before she got her heart broken. But after? Now it’s even more important not to fuck up.

  “I promise to make an effort to be a little more upbeat,” she said as she looked over at the clock on the wall. “You should go back to bed. You start your job tomorrow. I’m sorry for waking you.”

  Feeling more wired than ever, I shook my head. “You didn’t wake me. I got up because I heard you, but I hadn’t fallen asleep yet.”

  “Why can’t you sleep? Are you anxious about work?”

  I couldn’t exactly admit to her what was really keeping me up.

  “Something like that.”

  ***

  After work the following day, I decided to roam Cambridge before hopping the train back to Amber’s.

  Crowded with college students and homeless people, Harvard Square was bustling. The faint sound of live music registered, although I wasn’t sure exactly where it was coming from.

  Passing an outdoor café where a bunch of people were sitting around playing chess, it hit me that sightseeing alone in a new city wasn’t really very much fun, so I called Amber to see if she’d want to join me down here. As luck would have it, she had the night off.

  We planned to meet at this small, used bookstore that I’d discovered on Brattle Street. It was tucked away, and you had to go down a few steps to access the door.

  The place smelled like burnt coffee and old paper. Rich with eccentricities from corner to corner, it was seriously one of the coolest places I’d ever stumbled upon.

  I checked the door every few minutes to see if she’d arrived.

  When Amber finally entered the place, I noticed that she was making small talk with a hunched-over old man on her way in. She was the type of person who always noticed people, didn’t just walk by them in a fog, but really noticed them. Amber was smiling and chatting up the man before she finally held the door open for him. That was probably the highlight of the old fucker’s entire year.

  I loved observing people when they didn’t know I was watching them. Getting to see how someone conducted themselves in their natural state without knowing they were being watched was a true window into their soul. And Amber had a kind soul. That had always been apparent to me.

  I waved at her from the corner table I’d snagged.

  Amber unraveled her scarf and took a seat across from me. My eyes fell to her neckline and to her perky breasts that were stretching against her pink, fitted sweater. Her hair was staticky from the cold.

  She looked around at the musty shelves. “This place is really cool.”

  It smelled like incense all of a sudden. It was coming from the opposite side of the room where a woman with dreadlocks stuffed into a knit cap was selling crystals next to the occult book section. A man played guitar in the other corner.

  “It’s like a coffeehouse slash used bookstore. I stumbled upon it and thought you might like it here. I remember you used to read a lot.” I suddenly got up. “I’ll be right back.”

  After I fetched us two coffees that were served in ceramic mugs, I returned to my place at the table.

  Amber blew on the steaming liquid before she said, “I thought I was supposed to be showing you around, not vice versa. I never even knew this place existed. Really cool find. I could spend all eve
ning in here getting amped up on caffeine and searching for obscure books. Do you think that’s strange?”

  “No, actually. That’s why bookstores make good first dates for people. I’ve taken a few women to bookstores—granted not one as cool as this.”

  She scrunched her nose. “I wouldn’t have thought that.”

  “Well, for one, there’s never a lack of things to talk about. Each book is a conversation piece.”

  The corners of her eyes crinkled. “Yeah, but you’re really not getting to know the person if you’re talking about books and not each other.”

  “I beg to differ. You can tell a hell of a lot about someone by what they read.”

  “Or what they don’t read...if they’ve never picked up a book.”

  “Exactly. Now you’re getting my point.”

  “I can imagine you’ve dated some women like that…who didn’t read? At least from what I remember…”

  “Plenty. And the truth always comes out. Not that I have anything against someone who doesn’t habitually read, but sometimes it can mean there’s an overall lack of interest in things outside of themselves.”

  A smile spread across her face. “I’m impressed, Lord. But given some of the girls you used to date, I didn’t think such things mattered to you.”

  “Sounds like you’re judging a book by its cover, Amber.” I winked. “See what I did there?”

  “I do.” She laughed.

  The sound of her laughter brought me back in time to our youth for a moment. There were very few remnants of that time, but her laughter was one of them. Her laughter used to be my medicine.

  “I’m not exactly the same guy I was in high school and college.”

  “You mean, you don’t…” She coughed intentionally. “Get around anymore?”

  “Get around? You mean sleep around…fuck around…right? Just say what you really mean…”

  “I was trying to be bookstore friendly.”

  “Look around. I’m pretty sure you can say and do anything you want in this place.” I grinned and inhaled a curious scent that smelled an awful lot like marijuana. “By the way, do you smell pot?”