The Never List

by DL White

  "I–"

  "I know. It's the roof, and you might fall off. I won't let go. I promise."

  He drew me tight against his body. I followed his lead, dipping one way, then switching it up. Despite the rooftop being about half occupied, he led me around the space like we were alone, his eyes half closed, his shoulders swaying with the beat of the drum, flowing with the whine of the guitar.

  "Relax. I've got you," he leaned in to whisper, his mouth so close to my ear that his breath stirred the hairs on the back of my neck. Goosebumps cascaded down my body. "Feel the beat, move with me. Like that."

  Trey's thighs were muscled, rock hard as he anchored his stance and moved us side to side. His hand slid from my side to the small of my back, pulling me into him, close enough to feel his thickness between us pressed into my belly. My body responded, moving in rhythm and time to him, not even tempted to pull back in shyness, because maybe he hadn't intended for me to know that he was hard.

  Or… maybe he did mean to press into me, calling it dancing only because it was on the beat, on this hang out that seemed to be turning into a date no matter how many times I told myself that it was not a date.

  Trey inched us back to our table as the song faded out, and another one began. He headed to his seat, then stopped and bent to kiss me.

  Not a peck on the cheek. A licking and sucking my lips into his mouth kiss. A turning me into goo, setting me on fire, clit hardening, nipple pearling, making all of my body parts buzz kiss.

  When he pulled back, and I managed to pry my eyes open, he was grinning down at me. "Now I'm flirting with you, Esme."

  I stepped back, regrettably out of his arms, tugging my t-shirt down and running my fingers through my hair. Anything to appear to have something else to do besides stare at him because what the fuck just happened?

  And why do I want to ask him to follow me home and show me what that long, hard, thickness do? I sucked in a long breath and slowly, slowly let it out.

  "Wow, look at the time. I need to head home. Do I owe you anything? For the drinks or… the game?"

  Trey sat up in his seat, his eyes wide. "You're leaving? I'm sorry, I overstepped—"

  "No!" I held up a hand to stop him before he said another word. "Don't apologize. Tonight was so much fun, but I need to leave; otherwise, I am going to make bourbon and liqueur induced decisions."

  Trey's chin lifted as he inhaled deeply. Then he nodded. He got my point. "I feel you. I'll walk you to your car."

  I wanted to insist that I could take care of myself, that I wasn't parked too far inside the deck and would be fine, but Jewel's words came back to me. Don't be mean today, Es.

  "Sure," I answered instead. "I'd like that."

  "I'll take care of the bill and meet you at the elevator. Don't forget your prizes. You won them fair and square."

  With a wink, he picked up the folio with the printout of our bill and headed toward the line to cash out. I took one last look around the rooftop, smiling at the glistening lights of downtown, then grinning at the Ferris wheel making another revolution across the park.

  I tipped the last of the liquor into my mouth and walked back to the elevator to wait for Trey, pulling out a tube of lip gloss, since he'd just kissed all of mine off.

  Today… was a day. I couldn't wait to talk to O'Neal.

  Trey pushed his wallet into the back pocket of his jeans as he approached. Something about the way he moved, the way his shirt stretched across his chest and shoulders, the way he carried himself in such a casual yet self-assured way… shit.

  Somebody struck a match and relit the pilot light.

  "So, you made it to the rooftop."

  "Twice!" I noted. The elevator doors slid open, and we stepped inside the cube.

  "Twice. And you didn't die. How about that?"

  "I also rode a Ferris wheel today. I don't know if you knew that."

  "I had heard that. You were very, very brave, Esme."

  I laughed, picking up on the shade in his tone. "Shut up, Trey."

  "I'm serious. Fear knows no age. It defies logic. You can't talk yourself out of fear. You have to be brave; to decide that you want to work through it more than you want to give into it. You did that today. That's dope."

  "You sound like you speak from experience."

  "A little bit," he mused. "A little bit."

  The elevator doors slid open, revealing the landing and the underground food court. Unhurried, we strolled past counter serve shops that sold snacks and beverages. Pizza, popcorn, hot dogs, what my father would call carnival food. He loved carnival food.

  "I forgot to tell you that I spoke with Miller this afternoon. I told him that you had agreed to 90 days of health and wellness coverage for the employees that he'll have to release. He was pleased."

  "There's nothing I love more than pleasing Thomas Miller."

  "Sarcasm aside, he thinks our offsite excursions are a good idea. And that I got you to budge on anything at all is nothing short of a miracle."

  "He's right. I was so sure that I could wear him down that I wasn't being fair. It was more about trying to impress my father by brokering a better deal than the one he offered. I guess Miller went to a fancy school, too."

  "Mmmmm. Wharton and then Savannah College of Art and Design."

  "Oh. He's smarter than us, is what you're saying."

  "But you know how some people have book smarts but not street smarts? That's Miller. He can't imagine any other way that this shakes out except to sit in a room and argue about it. The idea that we went off-site to negotiate is revolutionary to him."

  Trey cocked his head back and laughed. "Esme, the idea of a red tie is revolutionary to him. He's the greyest man I've ever met."

  I laughed along, realizing that I'd felt the same way since I met him.

  Our footsteps echoed through the parking garage as we both headed toward my car, parked near the entrance so that I wouldn't have any trouble finding the car and getting out of the garage.

  "So... look. I'm not just saying this. Tonight was nice. Thanks for meeting me. And trusting me."

  "Thanks for asking me. I have things to mark off of my list now."

  "You're still not going to tell me all the stuff on the list, are you?"

  "Mmmmm..." I bobbed my head side to side, pretending to think it over. "Nah. It’s more fun for you to not know yet."

  "I need to ask you an inappropriate question about your list, given our working relationship."

  I inhaled, wondering if he was going to ask, again, if sex was on the list.

  And if I was going to tell him that it was.

  "Given our recent agreement to exchange favors for contract concessions," I said, "I don't think I have room to complain about inappropriate questions."

  "Aight, bet." He paused, making sure I was hanging on every word before he spoke again. "So… is having a man kiss the shit out of you in a parking garage on your list? Because if it's not, we might need to add it."

  The thought of another pass of his lips brought a 'wave of heat that flushed through my body. I didn't think about it or argue against it or tell myself that this was not a date. In a few steps, I crossed the short span of distance, gripped the back of his neck, and relished in the feeling of him clutching my hips to pull me to him, angling his head slightly to the right as our lips met.

  He growled low, slipping his tongue between my lips. Unlike the kiss before, it was sensual and slow, more intimate and intoxicating than a fevered, passionate smashing of our mouths together.

  With a groan, and then a short exhale, Trey released my body and my lips. He swiped a hand across his mouth, frowning at the film of gloss.

  "I thought women wore that paint stuff that doesn't come off when you kiss."

  "I wore that earlier."

  "I should have kissed you on the Ferris wheel like I wanted to."

  "You wanted to?"

  "Woman..." Trey let out a little chuckle, then reached up to scratch his neck while giving
me a squinty smile. "I've wanted to kiss you since I asked if I could take your chair, and you damn near cussed me out."

  "I did not."

  "You almost called me everything but a child of God, as my mother would say."

  "My cousin said you were flirting with me."

  "Your cousin is right. But…" He shrugged, then balled one hand into a fist and punched it into the other flat palm. "I got what I deserved. I was rude. I hope I have more than made up for that."

  I nodded. "I was rude too." I gestured to the arousal that had to be embarrassing, but he was calm about it. "And I know I've made up for that."

  He stepped around me and reached for my driver's side door, but it wouldn't open until I slid my finger across the sensor. He pulled the handle and held the door open.

  "You need to get into your car and drive away. Bad decisions are about to be made."

  Amen, I agreed in my head. I slipped into the driver's seat and waited until he firmly pushed the door shut before I pressed the START button, and the car purred to life. The seat belt automatically moved to enclose me in the car. I reached for the gearshift and put the car in reverse, then backed out of the spot while Trey stood a few feet away, watching me pull out.

  I watched him wave from the rearview mirror. I waved back and headed to the exit.

  My body was on fire, but not from the alcohol. My mind flashed memories of the day, the evening, the kiss. And then the other kiss.

  Somehow, I was supposed to get up the next morning and sit in that little room and look at Trey Pettigrew in the eye and pretend that my vibrator didn't get a workout as soon as I got home.

  And that I was no longer trying to pretend that I wasn't thinking about Trey.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Trey

  * * *

  My phone buzzed its usual alarm, but I was already awake. Sleep had been hard to come by all night.

  I'd come home last night, prepared to shower and crawl into bed, except… I wasn't tired. My brain and my body competed to see which could bounce me off the walls harder, first with elation at gaining Esme's trust, enough to get personal and up close.

  In the next moment, I berated myself for making that move. A personal connection based on what I knew was a mutual attraction could cause problems and a conflict of interest.

  Why couldn't I control my mouth? And my dick. It was a good thing that I'd had no plan to keep my attraction to Esme a secret.

  I needed to expel some energy, so I changed into a pair of basketball shorts, a sleeveless t-shirt, and my biking shoes and hopped on the Peloton for the Late Night Ride, a hip hop themed HIIT cycle class. The instructor, Sharida, had a sculpted body that was a work of art, and the perfect bald head. She wore bangles and chains that made little ringing noises that rode under the sounds of J Cole, Big Sean, and Kanye West. It helped me stay in rhythm and on pace. I loved her class when I could catch it.

  When I still wasn't tired enough to sleep, I tapped out a quick text, grabbed a racquet, and headed down to the basement of my building. Twelve88 Towers was a mid-rise condo complex offering safe and luxurious living in the heart of Atlanta. I walked through the brightly lit social corner that overlooked the pool and jacuzzi. The area was dotted with plush couches, oversized chairs, and bistro tables. One of two well-stocked bars had a few patrons, as they were about to wrap up the evening.

  I passed them both, rounding the corner to the fitness center and racquetball courts. I keyed in my passcode and entered court one, letting the door slam shut.

  I paced the wood floors of the oblong, glassed-in room, listening to my footsteps echo and bounce off of the windows, swiping the air with the racquet every few seconds. Behind me, the steel door opened, then latched closed.

  "Well, well, well. Look who made it to midnight racquetball."

  I didn't need to turn around to know that Ken was happy to find me in his favorite spot in the building. He'd played racquetball all his life, was so skilled that he had the chance to try out for a pro team. When he had to choose between culinary school or racquetball, he made the tough call. Still, he liked to hit the court every night after the restaurant closed. It helped him to decompress so that he could sleep, then do it all again the next day.

  I knew a thing or two about that. I would explode if I didn't work off some extra energy.

  "I thought I'd join you if that's Ok."

  "You kidding? I'm looking forward to kicking your ass," he crowed, pulling a few small bright blue balls from a bag that he kicked to the side of the court, out of the way. I heard the Velcro of his gloves as he tightened them, the squeak of his shoes on the freshly varnished wood. "I could use the competition. You look like you've got something sitting on your shoulders. Rough night?"

  "Actually…" I mused, smiling to myself while gripping my Ektelon racquet and moving into place for Ken to serve. "It was a really good night."

  "I can't wait to hear this."

  "So, remember that deal that I'm fucking up?"

  Whap! The ball whizzed past me and slammed into the wall at the end of the court. I ran to intercept, swinging to make contact and send it back. Then it was Ken's turn to race, diving to just barely lob it back.

  "Yeah. What's up with that? Did you fix it?"

  "Enough that Pops is off my back, for the moment." The hard rubber made a hollow sound as it hit the ground. I reached, easily sending it back to the other side of the court. "Thing is that my target hired a contract administrator. You know, somebody to work out the finer points of the deal. I guess I was being a pain in his ass."

  "You? No, I don't believe it." Slam! Ken executed a perfect splat, sending the ball forward and to the right. I crossed the court, sending the ball with a nice back shot. "So it's some pencil pusher nerd?"

  "Nah. It's a woman. Like... a woman."

  Ken turned on a heel, the ball in one hand, racquet in the other, both propped on his hips. "Shit, Trey. Do not tell me what I think you're about to tell me, man."

  I paused to catch my breath and wipe a bead of sweat rolling down my forehead. "What am I about to tell you?"

  "You said you had a great night. I'm guessing it has something to do with this contracts chick—"

  "Woman. Her name is Esme."

  "This woman. Esme. So you had a late working session? Or... something sexier?"

  "In between. We had a good working day, so we decided to hang out. She met me at Ponce City Market. We had some drinks and dinner on the rooftop at 9 Mile Station and played some games. Then we had dessert. Talked a little. Danced a little…"

  "Danced? Hardly contract negotiation activity—"

  "I kissed her," I interrupted, unsure why I felt like I needed to confess to Ken. Or why I instantly felt lighter and less frazzled when I did.

  "Kissed her." Ken's blank stare said a lot.

  "Twice. I couldn't help it. She's so… fucking—"

  "Fucking is what's on your brain, why you're at the courts at midnight when I usually have to drag you down here because you need your princely rest."

  "My job takes a lot out of me. And I'm up at sunrise, unlike you."

  Ken laughed, then dropped one of the balls he was holding. He swung his racquet, bouncing the ball against the wall. "I'm not that far behind you."

  I laughed. “10 AM is so many hours past sunrise, man."

  "Anyway. You kissed her."

  "Twice."

  "I take it the feeling is mutual?"

  "She kissed me the second time."

  "And you think you can still work with this woman."

  "It's not like I was the only one having a good time."

  "She could play you to get you to agree with whatever Miller wants."

  "Or I could play her to get what I want."

  The sound of the ball hitting the wall stopped echoing into the ceiling. "You're playing her?"

  "No, man. No one's playing anyone. But I am trying to get close to her. I don't want her to see Pettigrew as this giant conglomerate monster wit
h no feelings. I'm not trying to eat Miller's company alive and spit out the bones. I want the best of both worlds."

  Ken's eyebrows rose. "Kissing her gets your point across."

  "Look, I know. It's dangerous ground. But…" I turned, pacing the room. "I don't care. Which is also dangerous.”

  "She must be an amazing woman for you to not feel Pops' breath on the back of your neck."

  I slowed my steps, glancing back at him before I resumed pacing. Ken hissed a breath through his teeth.

  "Wow, it's like that? What makes her worthy of thumbing your nose at the job you need to do?"

  “That’s the thing—we're actually getting work done. We came to terms on a contract point that Miller and I have been arguing over."

  I filled Ken in on the background, stopping short of my deal with her to clear her list, mostly because I was still confused about it. While we talked, we casually served and returned a ball. Less strenuous play, more to keep our hands busy.

  "So, tonight…"

  "Tonight was strictly about being with a beautiful woman in a place where we could relax, be one on one. I had a good time. And I know she did too. I haven't felt...this…in a long time, you know? The urge was so strong, it was hard to deny it. She was hard to walk away from."

  "Hence being down here looking at my sweaty mug at—" Ken lifted his wrist to eye level to check his watch. "Nearly 1 AM."

  I lifted my shoulders, then lowered them and exhaled a cleansing, calming breath. "Anyway, I put her in her car before I could talk myself into thinking I should ask her to come home with me."

  "So, knowing that you probably have to wait until this deal is done to act on your feelings, will you be able to look her in the eye, share the same air and working space with her? Pops won't be interested in this burgeoning love story, as romantic as it is. Can you be the pit bull you need to be to close this deal?"

  "Most definitely," I told him. "But keep your racquet handy. I'm going to need to work off a lot of energy."

  "Hell yeah." Ken gave the ball a hard bounce, then served. "Heads up!"

  Ken and I slammed the ball around for over an hour. Then, drenched in sweat, so exhausted that we were weaving down the hall to the elevator, we headed back upstairs. Ken lived two floors below me, so he slapped me a high five and got off on the 8th floor. I climbed to 10 and got out, then traveled the hallway to my condo.