“Is that a Pokemon?”
I shook my head. “It almost fooled me too.”
“So when do you want to start your lessons?” We moved from the Pokemon hybrid to a miniature sculpture of a similar looking bird display. I wasn’t expecting him to actually follow through with teaching me, and not so soon. Usually someone suggests they’ll do something and then just let it slip by, sinking to the depths of either party’s memories. But not Alexander. He was making me commit now.
“Free on Tuesdays?”
“Can’t, Blake has me in his office during business hours.”
The name made my gut turn. A quick lurch that sent the contents of my stomach on a wild ride. I paused for a second, for just a second, so that I could somehow compose myself. Alexander would have ran far away if I laid everything out on the first date. I mean, I planned on filling him in, but this early would have been a definite deal breaker and I couldn’t do it without fully trusting him either. Thing was, I liked him more and more with each second that passed, my trust growing along with it. I really did find him so interesting, so cultured, something exotic about him, an endangered leopard that needed to be protected and admired. And of course, he was incredibly hot.
But I wanted to know more, I wanted to pry into him. I was analytical by birth, holding a spreadsheet as they cut my umbilical cord (or so my father always says). And the fact that I wanted to dig into him was something that took even me by surprise. I had never been this interested in a guy before. I haven’t even been this interested in a person before.
So I dug really deep and found the strength to set Blake aside
“Sunday afternoon?” he asked, smiling as he if knew that it would be a good time for me. That was the kind of guy Alexander was. He knew those sorts of things. When everything would fall into place, he would be there, smiling.
“That works for me,” I said, smiling back.
“Good.” We made our exit out of the nest and found our way into a normal looking gallery, extremely impressive modernist interpretations of old furniture was on display. I know, it sounds odd, but the pieces were some of the best.
We had stopped in front of a glowing neon Victorian looking throne when Alexander’s phone buzzed in his pocket. I had never seen someone retrieve their phone so fast. He glanced at the caller and looked up at me, his eyebrows scrunching together.
“Sorry, I gotta take this,” he said, walking around me and into the hallway. I stayed back and was so mesmerized by the painting that I had no idea how much time had passed.
“Sorry again,” Alexander said, a hand sliding gently around my waist, grabbing my attention, and then letting me go. It was enough to make the butterflies in my stomach flap like they were on a bad LSD trip.
“It’s ok,” I said, moving us over to a floral print sofa bed that was seemingly in 3D. I readjusted my shirt a little and tried to stop focusing on the small electrical shocks that were sparking where Alexander had last touched.
“More work stuff?”
“Yeah, but it’s been handled.” He closed off that topic of conversation pretty quickly.
“Wanna grab something to eat?” he asked, seeing the answer written all over my face. He smiled and turned, leading the way out of what seemed like an Ikea aisle dedicated to LSD. We walked down the concrete steps, the air in the stairway felt heavy, and we only occasionally brushed hands together.
Accidentally of course.
“So where are you from?” I asked.
“Both my parents are Brazilian.” Well, that explained the hotness. “But I was born in San Diego.”
“Oh nice! I love going down there,” I said, having flashbacks of going down there and visiting the zoo, Connor always making my family stop there whenever we were in town.
“Yeah, it’s beautiful,” he said, the accent making everything he said sound so much smoother. It had such a disarming effect and made me have to focus really hard on what he was saying instead of how attractive he was.
“So you’re not too far from your family then?”
“No, it was one of the reasons why I didn’t just move to New York, figured I should stick around for a little bit.” His hand gripped the railing, rusted underneath his strong fingers.
“Makes sense, so you're close to your family?”
“Mom mostly,” he said, his tone letting me know that his father was out of the picture.
“What’s she think of you coming out here and becoming a famous musician?”
“She supports me, always said I had something special since I was old enough to touch a guitar.”
I looked over at him, his eyes glowing at just the mention of the guitar. It made me fluttery again, thinking of how passionate he was about his music. It made me think about how much passion he had to give to someone.
“Well, now you’re really going to have to play something for me,” I said, reaching the bottom of the steps and walking out into the sunlight.
“So you mean you didn’t want to hear me earlier?”
“No it’s not that. I just definitely can’t pass it by with those glowing reviews,” I said, this time taking the lead as my nose directed us to the best smelling hot dogs. They were the types that were grilled on the street, letting the meaty aroma fill the plaza outside of the building.
“How ‘bout you?”
“Can I play? ” I grabbed a hot dog bun and loaded it up shamelessly, some onions falling to a toppings graveyard on the floor.
“No, I meant where are you from? Don’t worry, I already know I’m going to teach you how to play the piano,” he said, smiling as we walked over to a nearby bench.
“Oh, yeah,” I said, my heart skipping a beat as he mentioned our piano lesson. The thought of spending more time with Alexander had me so high up in the air that I had almost forgotten that I was pregnant.
Almost.
My hand moved up to my midriff and smoothed out a wrinkle, one that was pretty much unnoticeable on my black shirt. I lingered there for a second and then returned my attention back to the hotdog that was on my lap and the hot guy that was on my right.
“So?” he asked, taking a sip from his soda.
And then I was brought back to Alexander, his blue eyes staring at me with such intensity, like nothing else mattered in this world but my answer. Such a stark contrast compared to Blake’s empty television prepped gaze, a certain sheen to his pupils that made him seem slimy.
Untrustworthy.
But then again, my perspective on him was more than tarnished now.
“My parents are both from San Fran, born and raised. They met there when they ended up in the same law school,” I said, finding myself getting lost in those eyes.
He stared back, a curl at the side of his lip creating a smoldering side smirk.
“San Francisco was a good place to me,” he said, recalling something that was clearly still ingrained in his memory. I wanted to know what sparked that fire in him.
So I asked. “How so?”
“I played my first paying gig there. I wasted the money in gas but it was incredible.” His smirk grew into a full smile, perfect teeth gleaming in the sun, those dimples and they way his eyes scrunched up.
It all added up to construct the perfect man.
And he was sitting here next to me.
I let myself forget everything for a second and just picture us dating. Actually getting to know each other. Sure, it may have been a bit of a jump, but he was just too good to not picture in that way. I mean, he already showed interest in me and with each passing minute, each bite of the hot dogs, I could feel myself trusting him more and more.
So I let myself drift off to a place where I wouldn’t have to either tell him I’m pregnant with his boss’s baby or cut it off early. Where I was letting all my guards down and allowing him to know me, to like all of me.
To want all of me.
“I have a gig at the Viper Room tomorrow night if you want to come,” he said, brushing a lock of jet bl
ack hair off his forehead and back up to that full head of hair.
I suddenly saw us rocking the night away as he played his guitar, sang a few songs, and murmured to me at the bar. And then that vision popped like an overgrown pink bubble.
“I probably wouldn’t be allowed in.” I said, sighing.
“Don’t worry, walk in with me. They won’t say anything.”
His eyes glinted with something, a little mischievous shine that bubbled underneath those ocean blue eyes. I wanted to melt.
I literally wanted to melt right there and then.
“Really?” I asked, like some dumb high school girl getting asked out to prom by the calendar worthy quarterback.
“Yeah, the bouncer’s cool there. Besides, I’m the one bringing them people,” He smiled at me. “It’s a sold out show.”
“All for you?”
“Yeah,” he said, dangerously confident. He exuded confidence, the kind that comes along with an intense amount of sex appeal. Alexander knew exactly what he could do with a smile and a smolder, and he used those weapons well, wielding them with expert skill. Anyone else, and I would have thought he was gloating and just trying to show off, but with Alexander, it was different.
He had nothing to prove. This meant that everything he said felt genuine, I didn’t think he was just some asshole spouting off his list of trophies.
“Well, I’ll be there.” I smiled, feeling the butterflies start up again, like my dad starting up the lawn mower.
One tug.
Two tugs.
Three tugs.
Vroom, butterflies colliding together at light speed.
Alexander was doing something to me, something comparable to being on a roller coaster. You’re sitting there, strapped in one second, and then the next you’re catapulted at inhuman speeds, launched through the air and clinging on for your life, yet, at the same time you’re having the time of your life, adrenaline coursing through your veins.
Pure, unadulterated emotion.
So I took a breath, smiled, and decided I was going to get in line for this ride.
I didn’t know just what that had entailed.
CHAPTER SEVEN
“JESUS, YOU NEED TO SLEEP with him. Like, I’m talking, hands down best fuck of your life. I call it now.”
Rachel Woods, one of my closest friends in college, sat cross-legged on the couch, a fluffy white pillow laying loosely between her legs, threatening to fall over onto the floor. We had gotten to know each other during freshman orientation and found out we had a ton in common. I had also found out that she gave some blunt dating advice. It was pretty much a perfect match and I knew college wouldn’t be the same without her.
Which was why I felt so bad that I wasn’t able to tell her about my pregnancy. Not yet at least. I was honestly still too scared that the news would leak, and even though I trusted Rachel, I still felt like I would be safer keeping quiet.
So instead I told her all about the incredibly hot and absolutely swoon-worthy musician I had met. Alexander Cruz. After a quite a few “oh my gods!” and “no fucking way” with a few “wows” thrown in for good measure, we finally calmed down.
“When do I get to meet him?” Rachel swooned, tapping my knee.
“Never,” I said, throwing my head back and letting a defeated exhale. “It’s not going to work.”
“How do you know that?”
Because he’s not going to date a pregnant girl.
“I just know,” I said, feeling the urge to just tell her everything become stronger and stronger.
“Well, I don’t believe that for a second. Look at you! He sounds like a catch, but you’re a fucking trophy.”
I puffed. A laugh that did not agree with the conclusion Rachael was drawing up.
“Whatever, I’m going to see him… in a few hours.” I smirked, playing with the frills hanging from the bottom of Rachel’s bookbag.
“What?! Where?”
“He’s playing at the Viper Room.”
Rachel let out a jealous grunt. She had wanted to go to the iconic rock nightclub since she had moved out here from the midwest.
“That’s going to be so hot,” she said. I arched an eyebrow, instinctively crossing my arms across my chest.
“Nothing’s going to happen,” I assured her, although something in my tone of voice even gave me doubts. Rachel picked up on it too and just responded with a “Mhmm, ok.”
Then my stomach twisted, a grinding twist that made my body tense up. I shot up and ran to the bathroom, my hand cupping my mouth and hoping to all hope that I could make it to the toilet.
Thankfully, I did.
After I had flushed my sickness down the pipes, I went back to Rachel, who was standing by the couch with a cup of water, her eyebrows furrowed together in worry.
“You ok?” she asked, handing over the cup. The cool water felt so relieving and for some reason helped keep the tears at bay. Vomiting in that toilet just reminded me how much my life was changing, how there was now a little life growing inside of me.
“Just a bad dinner,” I murmured, shuffling to my bedroom and throwing myself under the white comforters. Rachel sat at the foot of my bed, her hand resting reassuringly on my covered ankle. I felt safe under the comforters, like I could just close my eyes and then things would be fixed. But nothing was fixed when I poked my head out from underneath, seeing Rachel offering me a comforting smile.
I was almost on the brink of canceling my date, but Rachel read right through me and shook her head. “You’re going tonight.”
“But I’m feeling sick,” I said weakly, pouting a little for added effect.
“Well, too bad. From what you told me, he’s a fucking god, so go and do something about it.”
I nodded, reassuring the both of us, but mainly myself, that I was going to go tonight. I was going to see him and I was going to have the time of my life with the man of my dreams. Of my wildest, dirtiest, craziest, and most memorable dreams.
“Come on, let’s go watch something on Netflix.” She patted my leg and got up off the bed, willing me to come along with her. I threw off the safety of the comforter and followed her back to my living room, where we settled in an flipped on the television.
“Since we were on this topic, I started talking to someone a few days ago.”
“Wait, what?” Rachel was usually good about letting me know her recent dating conquests, so her keeping a boy a secret was a surprise to me.
“I dunno, I guess I wasn’t expecting this one to actually go anywhere,” she admitted. I propped my head on the armrest and looked at her, seeing a sly smirk cross her face.
“Why?”
“Just didn’t seem like my type at first.” She shrugged her shoulders but then her smile grew. “Until I found out what he was packing.” Her eyebrows did a little jump, and I realized she wasn’t talking about a gun.
“You hooked up with him?” I already knew the answer, but I asked out of reflex anyway. Her smile was all the confirmation I needed.
“You’re bad,” I said, smiling back. She was the just the right amount of a bad influence that everyone needed in their lives. She had already been able to coax a side in me that I never knew I had, granted it was the side of me that thought having sex with Blake was a good idea, but it was still an important facet of my personality to harness. Rachel taught me it was ok to talk about sex and guys and to be ok with expressing myself.
“Whatever, you would have said the same.” There was a glitter in her eye which was quickly extinguished by a loud knocking on the door. Rachel lurched back and looked towards the door and then down at her phone, noticing the time on the display.
“What the?” I got up and slowly walked over, wondering who in the world would be at my house this late in the day without me inviting them in the first place.
“Who is it?” Rachel said loudly, not waiting for me to get to the door. I held an arm out and signaled her to stay quiet, putting a finger to my lips and looking ba
ck to her. She just shrugged innocently. I looked back at the door, half-expecting whoever it was to knock again since I was taking so long to get to the door.
“We’re coming,” Rachel called again from behind me. I cringed a little. Rachel didn’t always think things through all the way, she didn’t realize I would prefer to pretend as if no one was home if it just so happened there was a masked man outside my apartment.
I reached the door and peered through the peephole.
“That’s weird.”
“What is it?” Rachel got up off the couch and came to stand next to me, her short blonde pixie cut catching the hanging faux chandelier I had by my entrance.
“There’s no one there.” I stepped back from the door. I didn’t want to open it. Even though I saw no one outside, I didn’t know who could be around the corner. Rachel, on the other hand, thought it would be a good idea to throw the door open and stick her head out into the hallway that lead to steps down towards the street.
“Yeah, it must have been a prankster.” She closed the door and locked it. Something in how fast she clicked the lock made me think she wasn’t very convinced in her prankster theory.
I shook my head and gave a passive shrug. “Damn kids.”
“Alright, well let’s figure out what you’re going to wear tonight then.” She slapped her thighs and made her way to my bedroom.
I glanced at the door and followed after her.
It was probably just a bored kid.
CHAPTER EIGHT
I SAID A THANKS TO the taxi driver and slid out of the back seat, my jet black heels clicking on the cracked pavement underneath. I tugged at the hem of my form fitting black dress, bringing the length down to the middle of my thighs. The line for the club wrapped around the block, the clubgoers ran the gamut from lost tourists to C-list starlets. The tourists were mainly turned away at the door for either not being on the list or not wearing the dress code while the C-list celebrities were mainly let in after dropping their daddys’ names.
Monitored (The White Coat Series Book 3) Page 5