Unsurprisingly Complicated

by Claudia Burgoa

  Yes, off limits for you, too, I remind myself.

  We reach my car; I open the passenger door and close it behind her when my phone buzzes.

  JCDereck: Dude, I saw that. My sister is not like the women you use.

  Bradley: I know.

  I refrain from snapping at him and reminding the ass that he let her be fucked over by a scumbag like Porter Kendrick—for years. One thing I’d never do is hurt Nine. I’d shoot myself before hurting her at all.

  JCDereck: You hurt her and I’ll hire someone to dump your ass in Antarctica.

  Bradley: Friends. That’s all we are.

  I repeat the mantra several times before jumping into the car.

  “Where to?” I ask a couple of blocks later.

  I remember that she can’t eat the same way I do. She has to count calories and make sure she’s not eating too much of some shit. “Do you want to dine in or take out?” I throw another question out as she didn’t answer the previous one. “I haven’t eaten since lunch. Mind if we grab something to eat?”

  Fuck, she’s shrugging. I hate when she does that. Why do women shrug and say ‘whatever you want?’ It drives me insane. My mother, my aunts, and every female I’ve encountered does the same shitty shrugging-tilt head movement.

  “We can head to my place,” she offers. “There’s plenty to choose from in my refrigerator, or we can order something for you, Mase.”

  Me? Why not for her? Did I do something wrong? I mean, she’s usually so easy to read, and now she’s not. Why? Because I’ve been avoiding her, trying desperately to fight the attraction while keeping our relationship strictly on a friendship level?

  “What about you?” The solemn exchange is driving me insane. I scramble to find a way to transition back to the place where Nine and Ten coexist without any problems.

  There’s never awkwardness between us. We’ve always jumped back into the comfort zone the second we see each other. There’s never an uncomfortable silence. It can be months or years without seeing each other and we remain the same. Except it’s not happening now. Something has changed, and I want to go back to how things used to be.

  “I don’t go out just for the sake of it, Mase.” She flips her gaze from the side streets to me. “Eating out or ordering means two things, temptation and high blood glucose levels.”

  That sounds like she’s vetoing my Chinese takeout. One down, some more to go. “Chinese is out?” She nods. “Junk food isn’t part of the equation, I get it. I assume that we can’t cook the big gorilla that’s in the back seat making us uncomfortable.”

  “I avoid junk food most of the time, and the gorilla should leave the car, don’t you think?” She lets out a huge exhale, her shoulders relax and she shares a simple, yet breathtaking smile with me.

  “What can you eat, Nine?”

  “I’m boring when it comes to food, but I can be fun overall.”

  The smirk on her face and the image of having fun with her hit my groin, and I slightly swerve the wheel, taking control within seconds. Damn, I shouldn’t have come to Seattle. This woman is going to drive me insane.

  A couple of hours ago, my plan had been to make myself a sandwich and play some music. Now I’m next to my childhood friend, who I now find sizzling hot. So hot, I can’t think straight and blurt stupid things like; overall I’m fun and send him one of those flirty smirks I know can catch anyone’s attention.

  “Your house it is; let’s see what we can come up with.” He continues driving and I want to rescind my invitation before I devour him. I can come up with something fast. Like ripping the buttons off his shirt, unzipping his pants and gorging on that...

  No, not that kind of eating. Mase is your friend, not man candy; keep those thoughts clean.

  “Where have you been?” I readjust my thoughts and order my body to stop lusting on my friend. Yes, friend. “Timbuktu, rescuing some lost princess from a hidden kingdom?”

  I see the side of his lips crook. His hand takes mine, and he kisses it. Damn, there goes the resolution. He needs to stop using those lips on my body.

  No, no. Maybe he should put them to work on other parts of my body that would like to experience the same kind of bliss my lips had—and my hands. I nod as my head flashes images of Mason kissing every corner of my body. That’s what I’m talking about.

  I remember he kissed me and never called back.

  Focus here!

  “I thought maybe you’d call or something after…” Ugh, now I sound whiny and stupid.

  Slap me, please. Someone slap me.

  “Yes, Nine, I planned on that,” he responds. “If you remember, I’ve been out of town for over a year.”

  Mason parks in front of my house. How the hell does he knows where I live?

  “I’ve been working on a couple of new projects.” His gray eyes brighten when they look at mine. “A few thousand miles from here. Consulting jobs I can’t disclose. I arrived back here a few of days ago and planned on calling you.”

  He kisses my hand one last time and leaves the car. I join him, and while climbing the steps of the porch, a chill runs through my veins. My purse, my keys… I hate you, JC. He shouldn’t be surprised if I pour laxative in his beer. I twist my lips from one side to the other and shake my head. “My brother has my stuff,” I confess, staring at the floor before my face falls for being that stupid. Who leaves her belongings with her brother? “Purse, keys, phone—the works.”

  He doesn’t say a word and sprints to his car and is back within seconds. He holds a tiny, blue case that contains stainless steel picks.

  “You’re going to pick my lock?”

  “Unless you want to try to find your brother, which I don’t recommend.” He chooses two of the picks, hands me the case, and bends down. “Usually he disappears for the entire night.”

  I purse my lips, wondering how he knows what my brother does after hooking up.

  A few movements later, after he wiggles his instruments through the lock, my door is open. The security alarm starts to beep, he goes to the keypad and turns it off.

  “Why… How?” I lift my arm, my index finger pointing at the alarm. “You know my password?”

  He shakes his head. “My system.” He winks at me “When my people installed it, I made sure they also set a code of my own, in case… I don’t know, Nine. If you ever need me to feed the cat.”

  “I don’t have a kitty.” I look around the house, thinking this place could use a pet… or two. “How do you know that my brother won’t be reachable?” I don’t wait for the obvious answer; he has gone out with them—MJ and JC. They are friends of his, too; he even stores his favorite beer at their place.

  “You’re like my brothers,” I continue the conversation as I search through the cupboards for the pita bread I stuffed somewhere earlier. “Ah-ha.” I find them next to the coffee cups.

  “How so?” He rummages through the refrigerator. “Tall and handsome?”

  “No, well, yes, you’re tall…” and handsome, I don’t confirm. “I meant that you find a prey, ravish on her for one night, and dispose of by dawn. Repeat as needed.”

  Some men treat women like they wash their hair. I don’t have much room to talk, though. For a couple of years, I behaved in a similar way. I’m not proud of that time, but I couldn’t handle a serious relationship, as I was trying to avoid dealing with my five-year relationship with a cheating abuser.

  “That’s a different way to put it.” Mason releases a full belly laugh, then shrugs.

  The lack of denying his nocturnal activities bothers me. My heart ignores the flicker of disappointment as it learns he’s not into serious relationships. I am officially done with casual, heartless encounters. Going forward, I want holding hands, long walks along the lake, endless bickering at night before heading to bed. Even a morning text because the first thing he thinks about when opening his eyes is me, like he is the first person I want to talk to. There’s so much I expect from my next relationship, whenever that happen
s, including heartwarming, panty-melting kisses. Fights because our personalities are meshing and we’re becoming one, fights that will lead to long make-out sessions and the memorable hours of passionate lovemaking.

  Mason is hot, but my friend. The friend who won’t do serious relationships. A man who might only want the kisses and hot sex while avoiding the messy feelings that a relationship involves.

  “Why not have a real relationship?” I blurt out, then regret it. I stop spreading hummus on the pita bread and wait for his answer as I shift the weight of my feet from one side to the other. This reminds me of waiting for the lottery numbers on a Wednesday night while knowing I won’t match any of them.

  “Honestly, Ainse, I don’t hook-up as often as your brothers do.” He leans against the refrigerator door and crosses his arms. “For me, relationships are complicated, requiring commitment and time. There’s love, and then there’s the continuous need of keeping that love alive. I doubt I’m programmed to do so.”

  “To love someone?” I narrow my eyes, my mouth opens slightly. This is different from what I expected.

  “More like, what if I fall and can’t keep it going for long.” He lifts his shoulders, lets them fall, and purses his lips with an ‘oh, well’ expression.

  “For it to stick, you work hard at it because you’re with the person who makes you want to be better. The one you want to spend the good times, the bad times—any time with.” I copy some of the words my parents have told us throughout the years. The teacher in me wants to run to my office for a blank bulletin board and explain how it should work, and how to keep it working for years. “Unless you’re in a fucked up relationship, then you have to retreat and not stay around like an idiot for years.”

  I cringe at the memory of Porter. God knows I tried to work hard, and that was a disastrous relationship.

  “That’s different, Nine.” He washes his hands and finishes preparing the pita sandwiches I abandoned. “There are my parents who didn’t give it a try. A few months and it was over. They brought a child into their messy relationship, and I continually pay for their fucking mistakes.”

  I march to where he is and squeeze his hand. My life would suck without him. Personally, I’m glad that something amazing came out of his parent’s mess—my Mase.

  “I tried with Meghan.” He shakes his head. “Until I realized it wasn’t worth the trouble.”

  “Because you didn’t love her,” I offer my own conclusion. “If you had, you would’ve married her, and moved across the world to be with her.”

  He places the sandwiches on top of the table while I set out some glasses and the pitcher of iced tea.

  “If I care about someone so much, I wouldn’t tamper with the perfect relationship that we have.” He pulls the chair out for me and pushes it in after I take a seat. “I’ll hate myself if I lose what I have. Dad loved my mother. As of today, he hasn’t married because he can’t love anyone the way he did or does my mom. On the other hand, you have my mother.” Mina, his mother, has been married seven times. With all that garbage, teaching him that love exists and is worth keeping around isn’t going to work. He can be a tough student.

  “You should try it,” I insist after eating the last bite of food. “I bet you won’t lose anything. I’ll guarantee it. As a matter of fact, I’ll find you a match. I’m like e-match. I’ll have you paired up in no time. Do you have any preferences?” I inquire. “Or, like my brothers, you only care that she’s hot.”

  “Hot is good,” he mumbles, and I glare at him. “You mean like if I like blondes or tall?”

  “Yep.”

  “She’s average height.” Mason scratches his chin. “Bouncy hair, cause it’s entertaining.” He plays with my loose curls. “Pretty in a simple, subtle way. One of those girls who doesn’t try hard, but when you look at her, you stumble to your knees. Green, cat-like eyes—observant, smart…”

  “Sounds like you do have someone in mind.” All at once my heart cheers and sinks to the bottom of my stomach. The girl sounds a lot like me, and, well, it’s not me.

  Why the hell not? How is that for fair?

  “Oh, I do. For years. And there are times I want way more.” He cups my chin. “There’s a huge problem though. I. Don’t. Want. To. Lose. You.”

  Dumbfound by his words, my heart begins to pack and make arrangements to move in with Mason. Damn it, stay where you are, you idiot heart. We don’t know what that means, remember. Ask before you pack.

  “Lose me?” My six senses maintain the alert status, and my heart is screaming, ‘I told you so.’

  “If it doesn’t work out, what we’ve had for years will disappear. That shit about women and men can be friends after…” His voice changes into a firm tone. His now constricted features make me wonder about his statement—don’t want to lose you. “Forget what I said, erase that. Tell me about this new house. There’s no pool. How are you going to survive?”

  The stark reality hits me full force in the chest. What will happen if I didn’t have Mason? No silly texts or us. Wait, did he tell me to forget it?

  “What you said is ridiculous. No matter what, you’d never lose me,” I break the silence. I stop there because I have no idea what to say, or think, or the ability to follow what this conversation is truly about.

  “Nine and Ten go together, no matter what. We promised long ago. As of today, the time and the distance hasn’t pulled us apart. You’re my Ten.” We did promise. Once he realized he’d be too busy to visit the house anymore, we swore we’d stay in touch forever—no matter what.

  He shakes his head.

  “The house, tell me about it,” he insists, his gray eyes storming with anguish. “Or anything that has happened lately.”

  “I saw Porter a few days ago,” I mention. “He tried to ask me for help; he’s broke. I don’t know what to do.”

  The door slams behind me. I want to head to the tattoo parlor to get the phrase ‘9 is off limits’ inked anywhere on me. We started discussing my fucking habits. Apparently she knows what her brothers are up to and if I hang out with them. Of course, I follow suit and fuck tons of women. I’ve never pretended to be a saint. She guessed immediately that I… How did she put it? Find, fuck, disregard, and repeat as needed. Coming from those sweet lips, the entire sham sounded like I’m an asshole. Not the man I want her to think I am. Long distance works much better for us. She doesn’t know much about my flaws and how I suck as a human being.

  Now she’s going to judge me for that kind of shit, like sleeping around. Except since our kiss, I hadn’t done anything with any woman because that’ll erase the taste of that kiss I gave her. If anything, I want to dip inside those lips and take another taste to keep me surviving for longer. The conversation went from accusing me of being a manwhore to talking about falling in love. I said it out loud because we are always honest with each other. I know how much she hates lies and secrets. Ainse asked me about the kind of girl I’d allow myself to date; I told her that I can’t lose her. Of course, Ainsley Janine had to discuss the point, and I’ve no doubt inside that head of hers she needed more information than I was willing to give. Her curiosity was set to Spanish Inquisition mode and I couldn’t deal with it. Firmly, I ordered her to forget the shit I said. In exchange, she dropped yet another bomb.

  “I saw Porter,” she said. “Outside my father’s recording studio. He’s broke, and… he’s been calling me, too.” Damn, Dad warned me that he was around. I have to find him and give him a refresher course on the reasons why he has to stay away from Nine. Because I’ll beat the shit out of him and use him as a target as his testicles hang from a tree.

  She says she can handle it. She’s a grown woman who can take care of herself. My father taught her self-defense and she carries a stun gun, a personal alarm, and pepper spray that my dad also provided. I’m going to fucking kill my father. He made her think that she’s untouchable and can take care of anyone, anywhere. Nine doesn’t see the same problem I do. Porter Kendrick fucks wit
h her head. No amount of pepper spray is going to help her avoid the reach he has over her. I’m not telling her that, though. I wasn’t raised an idiot. I did suggest she let me tag along or send a guy to watch over her. Plus, I offered to change her phone number.

  “I’m not that kid anymore,” she defended herself. “If I can’t handle it, I’ll ask for help.”

  “I worry about you,” I pressed. “My job keeps me away from the city. Knowing someone is watching over you will help me sleep at night.”

  “You think I’m an idiot.” Her eyes narrowed and the tone of her voice rose. “I can take care of myself, and I can take him down if I have to. Believe me, if I couldn’t, I’d still be under his grasp after everything he had done to me. Why are you being like this?”

  Because the idea of Porter touching her again made me see red. Thinking of him using his antics to wiggle his way back to Ainse made me want to shoot an entire magazine of ammunition in his chest. Once again, my brain disconnected and my stupidity overtook my mouth and body.

  “I can’t stomach thinking that you’d go back to him,” I pulled her to me, my hands circling her waist and my head dropping on her forehead. “Or anyone.”

  “Why?” Ainse lifted her head slightly, her lips only an inch away from mine. “What’s going on here, Ten?”

  Ten. She called me Ten. Her nickname—Nine—I like to think that she was my favorite number and my favorite friend. She was the only girl I was able to get along with. I can’t remember when she told me that I was Ten, but I recalled her saying that Nine and Ten belonged together. Always. Thinking about her logic and asking what was happening, my sanity warned me to run far away, that she was starting to think things that were impossible between us.

  “Nothing,” I released her, took a step backward, and searched around to think of a topic but couldn’t. “I have to go. Probably won’t call you in a long time. Sorry.”

  She kept that narrowed gaze on me. “I deserve an explanation, Mase,” she pressed. She followed me, searching for an answer. An explanation she’d get if she pressed further.