Uncovering Desire

by Kacey Shea

  I continue making notes on a small notepad from my back pocket, glancing at the door each time someone new enters the cafe. I’m anxious for Kate to come back. I worry she’s downplayed the crash. What if she’s hurt? I hope she knows she can call me if that’s true, screw the case.

  I look up once more and she breezes into Sozo’s, smiling broadly when she finds me waiting. I stand and reach out, rubbing a hand up and down her arm. She seems fine, but I’m still concerned. All joking aside, she is good at faking it when she wants to.

  “You okay, Speed Racer?”

  “I’m fine. Swear on my Jimmy Choo’s. I did get a ticket though for destruction of public property. Probably should have steered clear of that light pole. My car’s being towed to a shop. I’ll have to deal with that and my insurance for hitting that asshole you’re investigating.”

  She’s talking a mile a minute and gesturing wildly with her hands. I pick up the tea I ordered.

  “Here.” I shove the mug in her hands. “Just breathe.”

  Her eyes widen and she takes a long sip from the cup.

  “You got me tea.”

  “Of course, I did. That’s what you like to drink when you’re stressed. Now, sit down a sec, I’m calling a cab. We need to get you home to rest. Are you sure you’re okay?” A smile tugs at the corner of her lips as she eases into the seat adjacent to mine, setting her mug down.

  “Yeah. I’m fine. My neck’s a little sore. I’m sorry I made a big mess of things. I hope you got what you needed.”

  “I got what I needed and more. Thank you, Kate.”

  I call a cab. A driver should pick us up in about fifteen minutes. I look at the time, it’s just after noon. My stomach growls in response. Kate’s quiet as she sips her tea. She relaxes into the big chair and her eyelids flutter closed. She’s being tough but I’m sure this morning has taken its toll. When we get home I’m taking care of her. She needs to eat and rest, and even though it was only a tiny crash, I bet her body will feel it later.

  “Oh shit.” She curses under her breath, eyes still closed.

  “What is it, Lightning McQueen?” Her eyes flash open, narrowing.

  “I was just thinking how in the hell I’m supposed to get to work this week, thank you very much. I’m already out money, God knows how much, for the damages to my car, plus insurance, plus the ticket. And if I lived at my home it wouldn’t even be a big deal because I can walk or take the bus, but from your place it’ll take me over an hour to navigate our shitty public transit system. And of all weeks because I’m in charge of a really important account with these supposed rock stars. God!” She bangs her head back against the edge of her chair and the ceiling. “I want to say things can’t get worse, but I know for a fact they can. I’m riding a streak of bad luck here and it sucks!”

  “I’ll take you.” Her spine straightens and she pins me with a look I can’t read.

  “What?”

  “You heard me Miss Bryant, I’ll be your chauffeur until you get your wheels back. It’s the least I can do for you saving my ass today. You’re a good woman, Kate, you didn’t leave a man stranded and you could have.”

  She blinks rapidly and I wonder if she’s trying to hold back tears. I pick up her mug and place it in her hands. She slowly brings it to her lips and sips. My phone sounds from where it sits atop the table.

  “Our cab is here. Let’s get you home. You’ve had a busy day playing super sleuth.”

  Yep. I’ll show Kate that what we have deserves a chance at more than friends. Maybe. The word holds so much possibility. Excited energy fills my body and I can’t wait to see what our maybe holds for the future.

  MAYBE I HAD HIT MY head on the dash without knowing it because this Jon, the thoughtful and sweet man who fretted over me like I was someone worth taking care of, was a man I didn’t know. Maybe I was suffering from stress induced illusions.

  “What do you feel like eating? Do you want me to make you something or grab takeout? Kate, you look a little pale, why don’t you sit down. Are you sure you feel okay?” His brown eyes were soft and sweet. I must be hallucinating.

  Yeah, this wasn’t my pissed off temporary roomie of late.

  “I’m just tired, Jon. All I want to do is take a hot shower, get something to eat and then fall asleep for a few hours.” I attempt to ease his concern. The muscles in my neck pinch with a dull discomfort but other than that I feel fine. My car on the other hand, looks a hot mess.

  “Okay, you get a shower and I’ll run to the store and get a few things.” He’s out the door before I even make it down the hall. My cell phone sounds from inside my purse but I don’t have the energy to deal with anyone, so I let it go to voicemail and fill the small bathroom with steam. As I peel off my clothes, the weight of the day’s activities hit me like a ton of bricks. I twist to adjust the water temperature and cringe in pain. My muscles are tight and stiff.

  Stepping into the shower, I let the warm water pelt my skin. I take my time washing my hair and skin, and let my mind relax and go black so I can enjoy these few minutes of peace before reality hits.

  I shut the water and use a towel to rub clear the steam on the mirror. Ugh. I look tired and worn despite the shower. Drying off, I wrap the towel snuggly across my breasts. I finger comb my hair, fix my bangs so they’ll dry straight, and walk to my room to change into shorts and a tank top.

  Jon must still be out because I don’t hear anyone moving about the apartment. I grab my phone and sit down on my bed. Several missed calls and voicemails from numbers I don’t recognize. I’m one popular lady today.

  “Hello Miss Bryant¸ this is Dave from Aaron’s Auto. We are working up an estimate on your damages but probably won’t be able to get back to you ’til Monday. If you have any questions give me a call before we close today, otherwise I’ll be in touch.”

  Great. I’ll probably be without a car for this week, maybe next. Why can’t I do things the easy way?

  “Hey, babe, Marc gave me your number and said I could contact you if I needed anything. Anyway, I need for your little hot self to be at our show this Tuesday night. Email our manager the names of anyone else you want to bring. VIP access and the vocal stylings of yours truly. What more could you ask on a lame weeknight?” Trent’s deep chuckle sounds through before he leaves a short, “Bye, love.”

  I pull my phone back and stare at it with a mixture of confusion, shock, and delight. Was he really that arrogant and self-assured to leave a message without his name? Yes. Trent was the kind of man who knew what he wanted and went for it. I admired that, found it extremely sexy, but realistically the only reason he was flirting was because I was the latest catch he hadn’t caught. I knew how guys like him worked. Never being rejected or having to work for it made the chase all the more fun.

  Programming his number into my phone, I hear the front door open.

  “Kate?”

  “In here.”

  Jon fills my doorway as a grin pulls at his lips.

  “Have a good shower?”

  “Delightful.” I grin and roll my eyes.

  “Good. I brought sustenance!” He lifts a bag to reveal Chipotle. Squealing with joy, I clap my hands from the edge of the bed.

  “You are my angel!” He frowns at my compliment.

  “I feel manlier than an angel.”

  “Using the word manlier makes you less manly.”

  “Noted. So, let’s get you fed so you can take a nap. Eat in here or kitchen?”

  “Here is good.” I scoot until my back hits the headboard and fold my legs comfortably. Jon walks to Evie’s dresser and places the bag on top.

  “Wait here.” He jogs out of the room and returns seconds later with a baking sheet.

  “Food’s already cooked. I don’t think we need that.” I raise a brow in question. Jon chuckles.

  “Here. I don’t do fancy shit, but when you want to eat in bed—” He places the tray on my lap, opens the Chipotle bag, and arranges napkins, fork, food, and drink on top
. “A cookie sheet works just as well.” He smiles proudly and I giggle. It’s sweet.

  “Hey, how did you know this is my favorite?” I shovel a bite of rice, chicken, and guacamole goodness into my mouth.

  “Oh, please, you and Evie, always going on about ‘Chipotle is my life,’ how could I miss that? I hope it’s okay?”

  “It’s wonderful.” I say between mouthfuls. I didn’t realize how famished I was until he brought the food. So good.

  “What’s your pleasure?”

  You. My head pops up and I swallow the mouthful of food. “What?” I snap out of my food lust coma to find Jon messing with the controls of the remote. Oh. For a second there… Never mind.

  “Grey’s.”

  “You and Evie and that damn show. What’s so special about it?”

  “You’ll just have to watch to find out. Wanna stay and watch it with me?” Jon pauses to look over his shoulder, his gaze intense and searching my own. For what, I don’t know.

  “Yeah. Okay. I’ll stay and watch a little while.” I can’t help the giant grin that spreads across my face. I swear I catch him grin before he turns his attention back to the remote. Finished with my food I turn and set the tray on the side table. Ouch. I wince as pain slices down my spine.

  “You okay?” Jon is at the side of the bed in seconds, brows furrowed with concern.

  “Just my neck and back. I guess playing bumper cars wasn’t the greatest of ideas.” I reach an arm to rub the base of my neck. He chuckles.

  “Scoot.” I inch my body forward, still sitting on the bed and watch in fascination as the man toes off his shoes and socks. He moves with purpose and a gentleness that I find in complete odds with his large, muscular male frame.

  He steps onto the bed behind me, sitting and cradling me between his long legs. Clicking play on the remote brings an episode of Grey’s Anatomy to the TV hanging on the opposite wall. His big, strong hands move to my neck and he uses his fingers to knead my sore muscles. It’s sweet and intimate. I sigh in pleasure, both at the feeling of his fingers moving across my skin and at the relief they bring.

  Oh hell. How did I not know Jon had such skills in the massage department? I’m aroused and blissed out at the same time, and unable to focus on the show at hand.

  “So she’s torn between the two doctors?”

  I’ve no clue what’s happening on the screen. “Mmmhmm.” Jon laughs.

  “That feel good?” He works his fingers lower. They make their way all the way down my spine and I let my head and body fall forward to give him better access.

  “Please don’t stop what you’re doing.” I manage to get out.

  His magic fingers move over my tank and I wish he’d peel the fabric away so we could be skin to skin. My skin warms yet I shiver in response to the explicit thoughts racing through my mind. My phone pings from the bedside table, alerting me to an incoming message, but I ignore it. Nothing, and I mean nothing, takes precedence over this man’s fingers working me over.

  Jon’s fingers still when my phone pings again. The bed sinks and his hands are gone. I whip my head up to find him grabbing his socks and shoes.

  “What’d I miss? Where are you going? That felt really good.”

  “I’m glad I made you feel better. Looks like you’ve got someone you need to talk to.” He nods over to my cell and turns to leave the room. I’m confused. Why is he leaving? Things were just getting good. Guys don’t leave when things get good. I leave them. I reach for my phone and grab it. Jon turns once more at the doorway.

  “Oh, I almost forgot.” He digs one hand in his back pocket, pulls out a small bag, and tosses it my way. I reach out and catch a bag of Skittles. He remembered. I look up and he’s already out the door and down the hall.

  My phone pings again. Trent’s name flashes across the screen.

  Trent Rock God: Come over and hang out tonight?

  Shit, shit, shit! I scroll through to see the two other messages he sent. Texts I missed. Texts Jon read while running his hands over my skin in this very bed. Shit!

  Trent Rock God: Chick, you are making me crazy. Can’t stop thinking about you.

  Trent Rock God: Tuesday night can’t come soon enough.

  I look at the bag of Skittles in my lap and feel moisture gather behind my eyelids. I blink back the tears that threaten to fall, take a deep breath, and close my eyes. I remember exactly why Skittles are my favorite candy.

  I sat on the front steps of Evie’s front porch, waiting, not so patiently, for my best friend to come home from her afterschool shift at the Water N Ice store a few blocks away. She had her license but it would still be a few months before I could get mine. Which probably wouldn’t even happen. The way my parents argued over money every night I didn’t want to stress them out more by asking to drive. We didn’t have money for another car or insurance. Hell, we didn’t even have money for rent. Whatever.

  I unzipped the pocket of my backpack and pulled out a bag of Skittles. Shouting voices burst through an open door down the street and I lift my eyes toward the sound, finding Jon walking out his front door and slamming it shut behind him. His long and lengthy frame moves with purpose as he jogs toward the street and halts. A scowl covers his usually smiling face. I’m no mind reader but he looks pissed. More shouting sounds from inside the house and he turns to glance back at the sound before he shoves his hands in his pockets and begins coming my way. As he gets closer I yell out to him.

  “Hey, Jon.” I offer a shy smile and a wave, and he nods. He strolls the rest of the way to Evie’s porch, then stands before me and studies the ground. I’ve never seen him this way. He is always so friendly. Something must be wrong.

  “Wanna sit?” He nods and takes a seat on the step next to me. We both sit in silence for a few more minutes.

  “Wanna talk about it?”

  “Not really.” His distraught expression leads me to do something bold. I reach over to where his hand lays on the step next to me and squeeze it with my own. I offer him another smile.

  “It’s okay. My parents scream like that too. Everything will be okay.” He lets out a deep sigh and his body moves up and down with small movements. It takes a moment to realize he’s crying. I don’t know exactly what to do but I let go of his hand, scoot closer, and wrap an arm around his much broader frame. We stay like that. I don’t have the words to make it better and he doesn’t seem to mind. He stops crying.

  “Wanna share my Skittles?” Jon laughs and pulls away. He wipes the tears with his palms.

  “Yeah, okay.”

  I pull the candy out once more and tear open the bag. I pour some into his outstretched hand and we lean back, looking out at the street.

  “My parents are getting divorced. And before you say you’re sorry, it’s actually a good thing. They fight every day. They hate each other. I hate going home. It’s just—I guess it’s still a shock to know, you know, that the people who created you don’t want to be together anymore.”

  I nod and listen. I’m not sure of the best reply so I let the silence stretch between us. I chew my candy, Jon chews his, and then I pour him another handful. He chuckles and I turn my head to find him smiling.

  “You’re like my own personal rainbow, Kate. This was a bad day, like the worst kind of storm, and you brought the sunshine. A rainbow to give me hope. Thank you.” He leans over to kiss the top of my head, and my cheeks heat from the weight of his words.

  He remembered. He had to. Damn him. Damn him for making me hope for more, when I know there isn’t a chance in hell we can ever have that. And damn Trent and his flirty texts for ruining a perfectly good moment. I release a frustrated breath and flop back on the bed. Curled up with my pillows and bag of candy, I resolve to get lost in the drama unfolding on screen and not the kind filling my own life.

  “So mhphm goo.”

  I laugh, sitting across from Evie at this little breakfast joint in Old Town. Between the two of us we ordered a slew of pancakes, bacon, eggs, and home fries—it
’s scrumptious and we both stuff our faces between catching up.

  “So good. Better than sex, maybe? Nah, but maybe a close second.”

  I reach for my tea and wash down my last bite before I grill her. She’s been my bestie since middle school so I know she needs a little probing before she’ll dish about everything going on in her life.

  “Now. Tate. I need the good, the bad, and the ugly.” I raise my brow and pin her with my most intimidating expression. “Almost a week of living in sin, but with a sister and her two rugrats in the next room. How’s that going?” Evie shakes her head and sips coffee.

  “It’s going really well. It’s not like I’ve never slept over before. You know I love Carly and her boys.”

  “Yeah, but this isn’t just a short stay-cation. You’re looking at another three weeks. You may actually have to fart in front of each other. Find out he’s not so perfect. Maybe the mystery and appeal will start to drift?” She smiles at my words, but shakes her head in opposition.

  “Nope. Not a chance. He’s it for me, Kate. I don’t care how smelly his farts are, the man is mine and I’m his. And Carly and the boys, they’re part of the Tate package and I gladly accept.”

  I am happy for Evie but still skeptical. How can she be so certain?

  “So what does Tate say? Have you guys talked about a future together?” Evie blushes and looks away to stare out the window.

  “We have. I don’t know when exactly it will happen—we only started dating a few months ago—but when you know, you just know. I know Tate will ask me to marry him, and I know I’ll say yes.”

  I pause, my fork full of bacon and eggs and halfway from plate to mouth, astonished and in shock. I don’t even attempt to school my reaction. Evie’s gaze drops to her plate and she gently sets her mug on the table before she twists her hands together in her lap. Ah, crap. I made her feel bad. It’s not that I’m not happy for her; I am. It’s just a surprise to know they’re already talking marriage. A tiny part of me worries I’ll lose my best friend to her soulmate. I reach across the small table, clutch her hands in my own, and lean in as close as I can to catch her worried gaze. I flash a genuine smile.