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Forward Page 9

by J. Saman


  As if proving my point, she adds, “Yeah, a bit actually. I’m not usually off balance.”

  I’m surprised by how honest she is. It’s been my experience that most girls hide that sort of thing. And then I realize that everything this chick is doing has been surprising me. She’s throwing me off my game.

  “Must be my charming personality,” I quip.

  “Must be,” she responds with a cheeky grin and winks back at me. Freaking winks at me. Damn. The class is coming to an end and I’m actually sorry for it. I like talking to her. There, I admit it. Hello, my name is Levi and I like talking to this girl. Hi Levi.

  And now I’m crazy.

  “Do you have other AP’s?”

  She nods, not giving anything else away. I can’t tell if she likes me or can’t stand me. I hate that I’m hoping for like. Fuck that, I’m damn near dying for lust.

  “I’m taking all APs; we’ll probably have other classes together.” I smile at her, liking the idea way more than I should.

  “We’ll probably have other classes together,” she echoes, then smirks. “I’m taking all APs as well.”

  “Good, then you can show me how to get to them and it won’t seem like I’m stalking you.” I can’t seem to control the stupid smile on my face.

  “Why would you be stalking me? You don’t even know me.” Her tone is serious and slightly guarded, which I find interesting. Has she actually been stalked?

  “The idea of stalking bother you?”

  She nods again with a weary look. Interesting.

  “I wouldn’t really stalk you, green eyes,” I pause and look at her serious face. “You’re safe with me.” I have no idea why I felt the need to include that. The strange thing is, she actually takes a relieved breath like she believes me. I want to know who the fucktard that hurt her was, but it’s not the time or the place to find that out. Especially since the rest of the class is packing up to leave.

  “So, you have Spanish next?” I ask, changing the subject.

  “Nope,” she smiles at me. “I have French. So I guess we don’t have all our classes together.”

  “Too bad. It seems I’ll have to fend for myself.”

  “Your class is next to mine so I can still show you how to get there. Mike has that class too.” Mike, huh?

  “Okay, lead the way,” I say to her as the bell rings.

  I’m not fortunate enough to get to sit with her again for the rest of the day, but we walk from class to class together. The more time I spend with her, the more I realize I’m in trouble with this one. Tonight is the party at Caleb’s and there is only one reason I’m looking forward to going.

  And that reason is the most unbelievably gorgeous thing I’ve ever seen.

  I’m leaning against the wall of Caleb’s huge kitchen, watching things I shouldn’t be watching. That douchebag Mike has a real hard-on for Lara. I can’t blame him really; she looks fucking hot tonight, wearing her skinny jeans and a low-cut black halter top that really shows every delicious inch of those tits.

  She’s still wearing her Chucks, which I like.

  Every other girl here is wearing heels. She’s different and not afraid to be so.

  Mike is leaning into her hard. Dickwad has her practically pinned against the wall as he talks, invading her personal space like she’s into his shit.

  She’s not.

  She doesn’t look happy about it.

  I haven’t talked to her all night, but I’ve been distracted. Apparently the new meat—that’s me—has attracted several different girls. They’re not what I want tonight. My dick only seems to be interested in Lara Gould. I look at her and spring a chub, it’s fucking disarming.

  I’m thinking if I just bang this girl I’ll be able to get her out of my system.

  I make my way over to her, when a super short girl stops me. “Hey Levi. I’m Siana,” she smiles up at me. She’s pretty, with long blonde hair and bright brown eyes.

  Nope, not even a twitch. Not interested.

  “Hi,” I say to her, not taking my eyes off of Lara and hoping this chick takes the fucking hint.

  “Lara isn’t interested in him.” That catches my attention, and I look down again at little miss blonde thing.

  “Why do you say that?” I ask, feigning disinterest.

  “Because she’s my best friend. They’re friends, but the stupid dick obviously wants more.” She looks me up and down. “So do you by the looks of it.”

  I smirk at that.

  “You’re an observant little thing, aren’t you?”

  She smiles and nods. “Yes, and you’d do well to remember that. I may be little, but I pack one hell of a kick to the balls.”

  I chuckle lightly. “Noted.”

  “Good,” she says, looking satisfied. “Go save her from him. I can’t stand Mike,” she grumbles as she walks away from me, and I decide I like Siana. Lara has good taste in friends.

  I make my way over to her slowly, watching her body language. Since she’s plastered herself as far away from Mike as the space will allow, I will concede that Siana is right. Lara is not interested in him.

  But is she interested in me? I hate that my brain automatically goes there.

  Only one way to find out.

  “Hey, Lara. Sorry it took me so long to get back to you.” Their heads snap to me at the same time. “You ready for that walk that I promised you?” I ask, not taking my eyes off of her, but noting the way the prick stiffens. Her eyes widen momentarily, and then she quickly steadies her features so as to not betray her surprise.

  “Um, we’re talking here man,” Mike says with an edge that easily conveys a fuck off vibe.

  Dick.

  “I can see that,” I say looking at him harsher than I normally would, “but I promised Lara I would take her for a walk, and I am a man of my word.” I smile brightly at her and she laughs softly, biting her lip at Mike’s not-too-pleased expression.

  “Finally,” she smiles back at me. “I was wondering where the hell you’d gotten off to.” She starts to walk towards me, but Mike being the dipshit he is, grabs her arm. It’s not hard, but it’s enough to have me seeing red. This asshole is two minutes from getting his ass beaten.

  “You cannot be serious? We were talking. I was finally getting somewhere with you,” he says the last part almost to himself, but it’s loud enough for us both to hear. Her eyes widen in disgusted shock before she schools her features again.

  “Sorry, Mike, but Levi and I have plans. I’ll catch up with you later.” She disentangles herself from his greedy clutches and lets me lead her away. I don’t stop until we’re outside in the mid-September chill before I reluctantly let go of her arm.

  “Thanks, he was getting a bit clingy,” she says quietly without making eye contact with me. I just shrug. Truth be told, I don’t really know why I went to rescue her. It’s not my style, and it has me feeling a bit uneasy now that it’s all over. This girl may be expecting something from me now.

  I need to pull back after only knowing her a few short hours, which should really tell me something.

  Apparently, I’m a stupid fuck, because I start to walk with her instead of going back inside.

  We’re silent and she’s chewing on her lip like she wants to say something else, but is holding back. She’s playing with the ends of her long hair and it makes me wonder if it’s as silky as it looks. Finally, she stops, looking up at me with big eyes, darkened by the night. “Why did you do that?”

  I run a frustrated hand through my hair and breathe out a heavy sigh. “Truth?” She nods. “I don’t know.” Her expression falls a bit and I hate it. I fucking hate it. So I continue with my stupidity and touch her face. “I’m drawn to you, but I don’t really do that sort of thing, so it’s throwing me off a bit.” Okay, I just said way too much and I don’t think I even made sense saying it. Judging by her confused expression I’m right.

  Fuck it.

  I lean in and kiss her instead of trying to clarify, gently bru
shing my lips to hers with every intention of pulling back after that and walking away. You know what they say about the best laid plans? Her cool lips are sweet, and soft, and full, and I need more.

  I lightly touch her cheek, gliding my thumb along the silkiest skin I’ve ever touched. I deepen the kiss, nipping gently on her full bottom lip. Without asking, her mouth opens slightly to mine as her tongue makes itself known. I groan at the taste of her. She’s like my favorite candy mixed with something spicy and familiar. I can’t describe it, but it’s heaven.

  She’s heaven, and I’m fucked.

  12

  My phone rings for the fourth time in the last hour. I’ve been walking the streets aimlessly for what feels like days. My feet are sore, my head is pounding and my body is frozen through. I had stopped checking my phone after the first hour. Levi called me incessantly, but now I pull it out and see that it’s Tom.

  Of course.

  “Hey,” I mumble

  “There you are; I’ve been ringing you like mad for the last hour. Are you okay? It’s not like you to not pick up the phone.” He sounds worried, and guilt creeps its ugly little head inside me, jabbing at me as if to say: Look what a horrible person you are. You had a secret meeting with your ex-boyfriend and now you’ve been ignoring your current boyfriend.

  “Yeah, I’m fine. Sorry. I’ve just been walking and I think must have switched my ringer off accidentally,” I lie. It’s a pathetic lie at that, but he doesn’t call me out on it.

  “It’s all right, I was just worried about you, is all. Where are you?” Where am I? That’s a really good question. I have no idea. I look up at the green street sign, thankful that I’m at the end of a block.

  “I’m at… Broadway and 9th.” I tell him. My surprise by how far I’ve walked registers. Jesus.

  “Oh,” he pauses. “What are you doing down there?”

  “I’ve just been walking. Thinking about things.”

  “Huh.” I know that sound. He’s troubled by this. I don’t want to upset him.

  “I’m good Tom, I swear.” I laugh, trying to lighten things up a bit. “Did you need something specific, or did you just want to hear my lovely voice?” I tease. God, I suck at this light shit. He’s totally going to know I’m freaking out.

  Though it’s not about him.

  He’s quiet for another minute before clearing his throat. He must think I’m crazy. “There’s a charity benefit dinner I must be present at. It’s scheduled the Thursday before I leave. Are you able to attend with me, or are you working? I wouldn’t push, but they need a RSVP very soon, and I’d love you to be there with me.”

  “No, It’s fine. I um… I actually took that week off so I could be with you every night.” I smile because I know he’ll like that. I may be confused as hell about Levi, but I like making Tom happy because he makes me happy.

  It’s really as simple as that.

  I’m not sure if I one hundred percent meant what I said to Levi about going to England with Tom, or if it was just a reaction to everything. It doesn’t change the way I feel about Tom, or the fact that I am really considering this move, despite Levi.

  “You did?” I hear the smile in his voice and it brings mine out for the first time all day.

  “Yup. So yes, I’d love to be your date.”

  “Brilliant. I’m so delighted you did that. Thank you, dove. That means the world to me.”

  “I’m glad, honey. Are you having a good day?”

  “I am now,” he murmurs into the phone and it makes me giggle. Tom is rarely playful when he’s at work. “I have to run love, but I’ll ring you later, yeah?”

  “Of course. Talk later.”

  “Cheers. Love you.”

  “Love you.”

  We hang up and I realize I’m starving and tired, so I walk into the first place I see. It’s dark in here and mostly empty. There is a long bar along the right side and a couple of tables lining the other wall. I walk over to the bar, slide out one of the heavy wooden chairs and park my ass in it. The bartender throws me a wave from down at the other end as he deals with a customer.

  It’s fine.

  I can wait.

  It’s almost four in the afternoon so I make the call.

  “Yo, what up, bitch?” I’d smile at the endearment if I wasn’t such a mess.

  “I need you to come meet me at a bar downtown.”

  She’s silent for a beat, but I hear the sounds of the hospital in the background. “Text me the address and I’ll be there as soon as I can.” Her tone is serious which tells me just how desperate I must sound.

  “Thanks.” I hang up and text her the address I get from a coaster set near the edge of the bar.

  “What’ll be?” A tall thin guy with a brushed to the side faux hawk, dark-rimmed Urkel glasses and a plaid shirt, asks me. He has a large black question mark tattoo on the inside of one forearm and a matching exclamation mark on the other. He’s the epitome of hipster and I almost want to laugh. “We have several microbrews on tap that are only three dollars during happy hour, which starts right about now,” he says, turning his head to check the clock on the wall behind him.

  “Yeah. Um. No. I’ll take a Maker’s Mark Manhattan please with two cherries.” I need the big guns today. He doesn’t react, just turns and walks off, I assume to make my drink. My phone rings again, and I groan. Can’t the world just leave me the fuck alone for one afternoon? I pick it up, looking at the flashing screen. Of course it’s Levi. Again.

  This time I answer. “Why do you keep calling me?” Not the friendliest of greetings, but I’m skipping formalities right now.

  “Because you just walked off on me after everything I told you. There was more I wanted to say and you just bailed on me.” He sounds hurt, but the irony of his words is not lost on me.

  “I’m sorry.” I’m not really sorry, but it feels like the thing to say. “I needed time and space to process everything.” That part is true. I’m also still pissed that he didn’t contact me. As far as I can tell, he didn’t have a good reason for that.

  “Where are you? We have a lot more to talk about. And don’t bother lying to me because I know you’re not home.”

  I sigh. “I need space, Levi. I can’t handle anything else today, I really can’t. I’m meeting Amara and getting myself good and drunk.” I smile at the thought. “How can there be anything else to say?”

  “There’s tons left to say, Lara. Tons,” he continues when I don’t reply, “please. I’m begging you. Don’t run off with that guy to London before you know everything. I’m not asking for another chance...yet…I’m just asking to talk.” I don’t know what to say. The more time I spend with him, the more answers I get, the more dangerous it is. I’m risking reopening a wound that healed long ago. Okay, maybe it didn’t heal, but it was freaking close. “Please,” he whispers, sounding desperate.

  “Not today. Okay? Just...not today.”

  “Fine. I’ll give you some time, but not too much. I can’t let you run off with him,” he says this last part softly, and it sounds more like he’s talking to himself than to me. “I’m in clinic and classes the rest of this week.” He sighs in frustration frustrated. “Meet me for dinner?”

  “Dinner?” I can’t meet him for dinner. Is he crazy?

  “Nothing fancy, just food. Tomorrow night. I’m done with classes by five-thirty. It’s not even a date hour.” I laugh a little, taking a sip of the Manhattan that was just placed in front of me. It’s not bad actually. “Okay. Text me where you want to meet up and I will. I’m not on until eleven tomorrow.”

  “Perfect.” He sounds so damn relieved. “Thank you, Lara. It means so much to me,” he rushes. “I’ll text you later. I love you.”

  “What?!” I practically shriek.

  “Um.” He’s silent for a second. “Oh shit,” he laughs awkwardly. “Sorry, it just slipped out. You know, force of habit and all. I’ll talk to you tomorrow. Bye.” He hangs up before I can respond, but what the hell? Force
of habit my ass.

  Saying he loves me hasn’t been a habit for seven years.

  I put my phone down and take a large pull of my drink. Fishing out one of the cherries and popping it into my mouth, I suck the bourbon and sweet vermouth out of it before chewing and swallowing. Grabbing the stem of my glass with a bit more force that I intend, I lower my head to the edge of the bar.

  How did things get so screwed up in such a short amount of time? I’d been so in control. I had work and school and Tom. Yeah, I’d been holding Tom off a bit, but I was getting so much better about it. I was. I am. “Dammit.”

  “You okay?” Hipster bartender asks me. Apparently I said that last part out loud.

  I raise my head to look at him feeling really stupid right now for becoming unhinged in a bar. I’m the ultimate cliché. “Yeah, sorry,” I shrug sheepishly.

  “You look familiar; do I know you?” I so want to roll my eyes right now, because really? That’s the lamest pickup line ever.

  “I don’t think so. I just have one of those faces,” I say, taking another sip of my nearly finished drink. I wave my pointer finger in a circle indicating that I want another round, but he hasn’t moved yet. He’s just sort of eyeing me like he is in fact trying to figure out how he knows me.

  “You were my nurse last month when I came into the emergency department after getting hit by some asshole on a bike.”

  Oh shit, apparently not a pickup line. I’m such a conceited idiot. I look up at him now and study his face, and he’s right.

  I remember him.

  “Yes. I was. I’m sorry I didn’t recognize you at first. You came in with a left ankle sprain and a shoulder laceration. How are you feeling?” I ask with a smile, especially since he’s pouring more alcohol into the martini shaker for me.

  “Much better, thanks. You’ve got a good memory.”

  I smile with a shrug as I push my now empty glass towards him in anticipation of my new one.

  “What brings you here today drinking Manhattans?” I don’t answer that. “I hope you plan on ordering some food if you’re going to keep this rate up.” He’s right. I’m buzzing off one drink because I’ve had zero to eat all day.

 

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