The XOXO New Adult Collection: 16 Full Length New Adult Stories

by Brina Courtney

  “I prefer the title Awesome Boyfriend,” he said as he set the food on the breakfast bar.

  “I suppose that works too.”

  He walked over to the sink and I followed. “What seems to be the problem?”

  “I’m not sure. It’s dripping constantly,” I said as I unloaded the food. He examined the faucet and quickly came to a diagnosis.

  “It just needs a washer.”

  “Let’s eat first,” I said.

  “I’ll take care of this first. It’ll only take a few minutes,” he said. I didn’t know much about sinks, but I would be impressed if he could fix it that fast. He turned off the water and then took apart the faucet.

  “So, Amanda really likes you.” His voice was muffled from under the sink.

  “Oh, yeah? I really like her too.” I set the table, having a flashback of the conversation with Amanda in the bathroom.

  “So when am I going to meet your brother?”

  I shuddered at the suggestion. “You want to meet Michael?” I asked, hoping I misunderstood.

  “Well, yeah.” Who was this guy? Usually women are begging their boyfriends to meet their family and here he was offering himself on a silver platter.

  “He’s really busy, you know, trying to cure cancer. But I’ll see if we can get together with him.”

  “That sounds good.” He turned the faucet on and began washing his hands.

  “You’re finished?” I said in disbelief.

  “Yeah, check it out. I told you it would only be a few minutes.”

  I examined the faucet. No leak. Impressive. I looked up into his striking blue eyes and said, “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome,” he said, and then he kissed me.

  We talked over dinner, and I told him all about the fire in my building and the “conference” in San Diego. He told me about the weekend with his sister. I was half listening and half surveying my apartment for things that needed fixing. If James was going to continue to be “faithful,” then I might as well get some use out of him, which I did later in my bed. He didn’t stay the night since we both had to be up early for work. At least that’s what I thought.

  Not long after waking, I got a call from Katie. The building wasn’t yet ready to return to. It would’ve been nice to sleep in a little that morning since I didn’t have to be at the office, but once I’m awake, I’m up. Repeating my same Saturday routine, I was done by ten. I rested on my couch with a cup of coffee that tasted like a little piece of heaven and contemplated going to the library, a museum, or Crate and Barrel. Then, my thoughts drifted to the conversation I had with James about meeting my brother.

  There wasn’t much point in James meeting Michael. After all, I knew eventually the “relationship” would end and my brother would see it as another one of my failed relationships. It’d be another reason to get crap from him and my parents.

  Truth be told, I hadn’t seen Michael since Christmas and the only correspondence I’d had with him was a brief call when I told him that the wedding was off. It wasn’t the greatest of talks, but one thing about Michael, he was incredibly honest. I decided to rent a car and make the drive to Berkeley to surprise my cancer-curing brother.

  “I’m looking for Dr. Johns,” I asked the medical assistant behind the reception area.

  “And you are?” she asked with her lips pursed and eyebrow raised.

  “Dr. Marin Johns,” said an unmistakable voice behind me. I turned and sure enough it was Michael. He was only a couple years older, but the years had been good to him. With his job, two kids, and a wife, I was amazed that he managed to keep his dark wavy hair combed let alone perfect. But that was Michael for you, the brains and the beauty. He towered over me for as long as I could remember and his almond shaped brown eyes stared down at me, looking surprised.

  “Hey, big brother. How are you?” We engaged in an awkward hug.

  “I’ve got two sick kids at home, a series of paper cuts on my left hand, and I have the medical board up my ass about budgets. What brings you all the way up here?” he asked with little patience. Nice to see you too.

  “Just wanted to visit. I haven’t seen you in months,” I said.

  “That’s it? You came all the way here just to visit?”

  He gave me the same look I’d seen a million times, a look that diminished me. It was so easy for him to make me feel like his ridiculous little sister, with her silly counseling job, in her tiny apartment, and husband-less existence.

  “Yeah.” I cowered.

  “That’s too bad, because I’m really busy. You want to visit? Come up on Fourth of July weekend.” And just like that, he started to walk away. The nerve of him. If I thought it would do any good, I would have called up our mother to tell on him right then. I followed with a little more stomp in my step.

  “What? Michael, I drove all this way and you can’t even spend five minutes with me? You didn’t even ask me how I was since, I don’t know, the last time we talked I told you my wedding was off.” My voice started doing that high-pitched, neurotic, nagging thing I hate. Surely, he hated it too.

  “What do you want me to say? Chad was a douche, and I never use that word. You’re better off,” he said.

  I stopped in the middle of the hallway and felt my cheeks get hot, and a tear surfaced.

  “Wow, you really don’t give a shit about me, do you?” I said in a much more severe, low voice. He paused about five feet ahead of me and dropped his head. His eyes rolled when he turned to me.

  “Don’t be ridiculous, Marin. You want to talk, then come here.”

  He grabbed my arm and ushered me into a lab room entryway. He handed me some sterile medical clothing where we dressed and washed our hands before entering a lab. The first thing I noticed was a wall of caged mice or rats. I really didn’t know the difference. Michael’s younger lab assistant sat at a large workstation in the middle of the room mixing chemicals with droppers and tubes.

  “So this is where you work?” I said looking around and squinting at the bright lights.

  “Most of the time.” He looked over some of the rat cages and wrote a couple of notes.

  “Is there a place we can talk alone?” I asked him, quietly hoping that his intensely working assistant couldn’t hear me.

  “Hey, Chase,” Michael called out to the assistant whose trance was broken by the sound of my brother’s voice. “Take a lunch.” Chase put down what he was doing and left the lab.

  “Is that better?” he asked. I sighed and sat down at the workstation, watching Michael work. Maybe it wasn’t the best idea to disrupt his day. If he were a plumber or architect it would be different, but he was trying to save lives. I didn’t really long for quality time with Michael. I had a question to ask. With all the information I was getting and all that I was experiencing, I knew if I could trust anyone to give me a straight, unbiased, brutally honest opinion it would be Michael. If I came out and asked him point blank he’d be offended, so I opted for a little embellishment.

  “I’m writing an article about modern marriages, and I wanted to ask you a couple of questions.” He looked reluctant. “In the name of research,” I added. He didn’t consider my line of work science, but I was hoping he would approve since current research meant a great deal to him.

  “Okay,” he said.

  “First question, have you ever been unfaithful to Jennifer?” I asked. His head whipped in my direction.

  “What?” He scoffed. I guess he wasn’t expecting that.

  “Come on, Michael. It’s a simple question.” I stood firm, but he looked annoyed.

  “No,” he said and turned to the caged rats.

  “Bullshit!”

  “Excuse me?” Michael looked back at me with a twisted expression.

  “I think you’re lying.” I crossed my arms and darted my eyes. He just rolled his.

  “Did Jennifer put you up to this?” he asked.

  “No, does she have a reason to?”

  “I don’t have ti
me for this. You have to go.” He began steering me out of the lab, but I planted my feet.

  “I knew it. You’re brave enough to step out on your wife, but too cowardly to admit it.”

  “Where’s this coming from?” he asked.

  “Just forget it. I should’ve known I couldn’t count on you for an honest fucking answer,” I said and hit the exit button at the lab door. Hurrying down the hall with a ball of anger welling up inside me, I was almost as heated as the moment I caught Chad. Then it all came back to me. The disappointment from knowing that there were no honest men. As soon as I got to the elevator, that anger turned into despair, and then came the tears.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  In The Mood For A Melody

  My tears fell all the way home from Berkeley. I felt the pain from my broken heart all over again. So much had changed, and I was starting not to recognize myself. Who did I think I was barging in on my brother’s busy afternoon and asking him such a personal question? That wasn’t me. It wasn’t like me to pretend to be someone’s girlfriend and play games to prove a point either. I was ashamed, an emotion I wasn’t counting on to surface for my actions. Sure, I had my reasons, but even if they were good reasons did that make them right? Was my deception so different than Chad’s was or James’ would be? Was I really better or more honest than either of them?

  I wished I still lived in my perfect little world, wearing my rose colored glasses. Then again, it was naivety that led me to such a dark place, and I wondered if the world would ever be right again. Would I ever find someone to love and respect, who could love and respect me back the same?

  If cheating had always plagued relationships, then why weren’t more wives and girlfriends calling men out on it? Women share the most personal details of their lives with each other, but it’s rare to hear of an affair, and when you do it’s a big deal. If they’re not talking about it, they’re in denial. If all men were unfaithful, and I had such a problem with infidelity then I’d have to settle for being alone. I wasn’t about to subject myself to a life of looking the other way. I couldn’t. Call me righteous, crazy, or morally sound, but I couldn’t pretend that everything was perfect when it wasn’t. Even if it meant giving up a husband, a family, and a house in the suburbs. I’d have to forge on and live with the outcome of my findings.

  All the downtime made me think unnecessarily, and I gladly welcomed the distractions that work provided when we returned to the office the next day. Through the course of the day, I felt more and more unsettled about what had happened with Michael.

  I called his cell. After about five rings, it was clear he wasn’t going to pick up. Yep, voicemail.

  “Michael, it’s me. I’m sorry about the way things ended with us yesterday. It wasn’t my intention to upset you. I just needed your insight on a subject, and I thought I could count on your honesty.” This was awkward, trying to be tactful and not sound as guilty as I felt. Keep it simple, Marin. “Call me back if you want to talk.”

  I took a deep breath and instantly felt better. It was short lived. A few minutes later, my phone rang. I jumped and my heart skipped a beat at the thought of Michael calling me back to talk about things. Instead, it was Rachel.

  “Marin! Oh, my God. I feel like I haven’t talked to you in so long!” Rachel screamed with excitement.

  “Well, I’m sure you’ve been busy, being a new wife and all.”

  “Yeah, things have been a little crazy. But now that school’s out, I have a whole summer to fill.”

  “What’s going on?” I asked, but really wanted to say, what do you want?

  “I feel like I’ve waited a fair amount of time. It’s been almost two months, and I want to go on a double date with you and James.” Uh Oh.

  “What did you have in mind?”

  “Friday night, MicX,” she said like it was the hottest thing.

  “Is that a restaurant?”

  “It’s a dueling piano bar. I went a few weeks ago with my girlfriends and had a blast.”

  “Sounds good. Would you mind if we made it a triple date and brought Telly?” I figured with another couple we’d be less likely to have deep couple on couple chats where the whole conversation was in “wes.”

  “Yeah, bring her. We’ll meet you there at eight.”

  What did I agree to? A night out with my real friends and my fake boyfriend. It was easy to play the role with James, but a lot harder to pretend with everyone else. Call back. Cancel. No, there was no escaping it. At least Telly would know the truth, and I’d be free to look over to her for reassurance any time throughout the night. That was if I could convince her to go.

  With a good hour to kill before my next appointment, I went to the kitchen to make myself a cup of tea. On my way, I noticed Andy reorganizing his bookshelf. I popped my head in.

  “What are you up to?” I said. He turned to me briefly, then back at his bookshelf.

  “Just trying to de-clutter. You need something?” he asked with his back turned.

  “No, just wasting time.”

  He whipped his chair around to face me. “Oh, yeah?” he said and motioned me to sit. “Something on your mind?”

  “My mind’s always going. Just like yours.”

  He smirked.

  I took my seat across from him. “Actually, there’s something I want to get your opinion on.”

  “Okay.”

  “Will all men cheat?”

  He stared right at me without blinking an eye. “Why are you asking?” He leaned back in his chair with his hands steepled in front of him. He looked suspicious of me.

  “Come on Andy, I’m not asking you as a therapist. I’m asking you as a man.” I could tell he was trying to get inside my head, as he always was.

  “And as a man, I want to know why you’re asking.” This surprised me, because Andy usually took any question or comment and used it as an excuse to talk for ten minutes. Instead, he was responding to my question with a question. Clearly this cheating-man truth thing really was for a privileged few to know.

  “It seems the longer I work with couples, the more I discover how frequent infidelity is among men.” It wasn’t a false statement entirely, just a bit exaggerated.

  “Well the answer to your question is yes,” he said.

  “I knew it,” I said in a victorious whisper. He shrugged. “Why is it such a secret?”

  “It’s no secret. I mean, yes, the specific occasions are often kept secret, but the fact itself is widely known. Don’t you already know this stuff?”

  “Yes, but statistics say about sixty percent of men cheat, not one hundred percent. I’ve always subscribed to the dads and cads theory, sixty percent are cads, forty percent are dads.”

  “You want to know the real difference between dads and cads?” he asked.

  I nodded.

  “Dads don’t get the right opportunity to cheat, and so they’re faithful by default. They’re no better or more special than the cads. Because dads and cads are all men and men are biologically inclined to spread their seed. You can’t blame ‘em, Mother Nature designed it that way.”

  “We’re not wild animals, we were born with a sense of morality. Why can’t they choose to be faithful in the face of opportunity?” I wasn’t trying to debate him because I knew what he said was true. And for the first time in our four years as colleagues, I actually agreed with him. He took a moment as if mentally putting himself in a situation to choose fidelity over infidelity. I saw his dark eyes light up.

  “Because they don’t want to. Haven’t you ever looked temptation in the face, known it was wrong, said fuck it, and did it anyway?”

  I tried to look back at the various temptations in my life—one too many drinks, one too many cookies, one too few condoms. I made careless mistakes in the past, but I couldn’t think about any vows or major promises broken either.

  “It’s not the same thing,” I said.

  He walked over to me. “Yes, it is.” He put his hand on my shoulder and led me
out of his office. “It’s called being human. We all have good and bad in us, so you better get used to the idea. We work in therapy for God’s sake.”

  Once I was safely outside of his office, I opened my mouth to get in another point.

  “I have an appointment,” he said. And he closed the door. Figures, the one time I actually wanted to continue a conversation with Andy, he shut me out.

  A couple of phone calls and a couple of days later, James and I met Rachel and David at the dueling piano bar. The music was so loud that I could hear the bass of the pianos pounding through my entire body. They were playing a classic 70s rock piano song. The dim lit bar was huge, the stage front and center. Two guys sitting at two baby grand pianos played in unison and sang loudly into their mics. The audience sang as loudly and drunkenly back. Rachel found an empty table toward the back of the bar. Telly was nowhere to be found. Fashionably late as usual.

  David and James were at the bar, getting our drinks, when Rachel leaned over to me and shouted in my ear, “How are things with you and James?”

  I put my face close to her ear and shouted, “Fine.”

  “I’ve never seen him with a girl before. He must think you are really something.” She smiled big like a beauty pageant contestant.

  “That’s nice of you to say.”

  She shot up out of her chair. “Telly!” she called and waved her arms wildly. Telly was with Will. I was quite puzzled considering the last time we spoke she agreed to stop seeing him. But was I really surprised? No. Telly introduced Will to Rachel, and Will and I greeted each other with slight familiarity. He joined the guys at the bar and a beaming Telly sat next to me.

  “This place is really cool. Why haven’t we come here before?” Telly asked.

  I was straight faced. “What?” she frowned.

  “You know what. What is he doing here?” I kept my stern look, as if I had some kind of authority.

  She gave me an unsure shrug. “I like spending time with him.” My stare persisted. “It’s not serious. We’re just having fun.”

  If it were any other guy I might have chosen to believe her, but this guy had a special hold over her. One I had only heard of, but would now get to experience first hand.