by Jessie Cooke
“It’s been that long already,” Luke said.
“I know. Time flies,” she mumbled as Luke cut the water in the shower. She opened up the glass door to hand in a clean towel.
“Thanks,” he said as he leaned out, his lips pursed for a kiss.
She complied though she barely felt it. “By the way, who’s Andrew?” she asked nonchalantly.
Luke’s head snapped up. “Who? What?”
“Andrew?” she asked again. “He’s been blowing up your phone this morning. Four texts in a row.”
“Um, hmmmmmm. Andrew. Well, what’d they say?” he hedged.
“I only saw the last one,” Bella answered. “I didn’t want to snoop, but I thought it could be something wrong at home with your folks. All I saw was a message to call him asasp.” She handed him his phone, and Luke stood naked scrolling through the other texts uttering nothing more than “Hmmmmm” before putting the phone down on the vanity and picking up his toothbrush.
Bella laughed. “That’s it? Just a ‘hmmmmm’ and no word for your girlfriend at some guy she’s never heard of that’s texting you like crazy?” She put her arms around him as she approached from behind, and their eyes met in the mirror.
Luke didn’t hesitate at all. “Job connection, at least I’m hoping,” he said after spitting a mouthful of frothy toothpaste into the sink.
“Here’s hoping,” Bella said, and she kissed his shoulder affectionately before he left the bathroom to get dressed.
Luke sat scrolling through job listings on his netbook at the Starbucks just two blocks from the apartment. Nothing seemed to be panning out, but he was not concerned at all. His phone lit up as it indicated that Reece Hamilton was calling. He’d turned the ringer off as a courtesy to the people around him, and extending the courtesy further, he got up as he answered and walked out into the sunshine to converse.
“Reece,” Luke greeted the caller. “What can I do for you?”
“You can tell me exactly where you are and why it seems you’re running from me.”
“Running?”
“I’ve been by your apartment only to have them tell me at the office that you’d moved out. Gone weeks ago. I know you’re not back at your folks’ because I’ve already checked there. Don’t you think it looks rather suspicious, when someone in your employment steals the girl he’s supposed to be keeping a gay eye on then skips town without a word when the truth comes out?”
Luke laughed sarcastically. “First, there was no stealing done at all. Bella is not a possession. She fell for me all on her own. I can’t help it if the fact that you fathered a child with her best friend ran her smack dab into my arms. That’s all on you, my man. Secondly, I’m not skipping town. I’m at the Starbucks on the corner of Ashe and Cedar, and thirdly, I didn’t know I had to alert you to any time my living situation changed, but if you must know, Bella and I are cohabitating now.”
“What?!”
Luke could visualize the set of Reece’s jaw as he spoke the word through his teeth. He smiled knowing just how much Reece would hate hearing that news. “Well, I guess she felt a little guilty about Dreamscapes having to let me go,” Luke continued. “Or maybe she was just ready to take our relationship to the next level. She fired me and offered to let me move in all in the same day. I figured it was a win-win for me. Lose the job but gain every night and weekend with Bella? That’s a trade I was more than happy to make.”
“How much for you to move out?” Reece spat.
“Well . . . I don’t know, Reece. I’m really liking waking up to her every morning. The time we’re spending together is too valuable to put a price on.”
“Don’t give me that horse shit,” came the voice on the other end. “I know you a little too well, Luke Berringer, and you can be bought. How much?”
“Reinstate our original agreement,” Luke returned.
“Done.”
“I’ll be out as soon as I find a job and a place to live.”
“Consider that done. I’ll be in touch,” and the line went dead.
Luke returned to his laptop and shut everything down, packed it up, and got a refill on his coffee. With the promise of pay, he could afford to spend a little time doing something just for himself.
He climbed into the car as he dialed the familiar number on the keypad of the phone.
“Hey there, gorgeous. Got some time for me? I’m dying to see you.”
52
Bella was floating in a sea of electricity, and she arched her back into a slow rocking back and forth as she sought more pleasure at the touch of his hand. She threw her head back eliciting a moan of decadence just before his tongue eased into her mouth, searching in slow circles before it met hers with long strokes she could feel pulling from below her belly.
Luke pulled her body hard against his so that she could feel the throb of his heart within his chest, and she reached between his legs to stroke the length that lay between them.
“I should have told you I’m moving out much sooner,” he said as he nibbled on her earlobe. “We haven’t heated up this bedroom like this in weeks.”
It was true: their sex life had dwindled into almost nothing, and Bella didn’t know which she should blame more: her unexplainable irritableness at everything Luke did; the nagging suspicion that Andrew was something beyond just some contact for work; or because in spite of all she’d tried to do to put distance between them, Bella couldn’t get Reece out of her mind. Maybe it was all of the above.
The idea of reclaiming her space had excited her even more than the lacy apron Luke wore over his naked body when she got home that evening. Luke had told her over dinner that he’d landed a job in Dallas and would be moving over the weekend.
“So soon?” she had asked, confessing that one thing she would miss was his cooking.
“It’s jump or get jumped,” Luke had answered in return. “And let’s not pretend that perhaps we jumped into the cohabitating a little soon.”
She had nodded slightly embarrassed.
“It’s okay,” Luke had said when he took her hand across the table. “It doesn’t change anything. All that I said? I still feel that for you. I still love you, Bella Ryan. Our timing is just a little off right now, and with the added pressure you have at work, this might not have been the best move, pardon the pun. Better to find out now that we’re just not quite ready to take this big a step. That’s all. And I don’t want to ruin what we’ve got, Bella.”
She had looked into those big hazel eyes and felt relief wash over her, cleansing her and making her a new person.
But if she were honest with herself, she would have to admit that there was a fleeting sense of hope and wonder at the thought of potentially allowing Reece back into the picture, which was what had aroused her in the first place.
If she were being completely honest with herself . . . but she wasn’t ready to do that quite yet.
“Less talking, more stroking,” she whispered back to Luke, barely aware of the directive she’d just uttered. She covered his strong hand with her own and applied more pressure to the spot between her legs.
Luke slid a finger into her slowly, rotating small circles inside, her lips parting in a satisfied sigh. Then two fingers were there, rubbing and sizzling with electricity. He pulled them out of her slowly, expertly, dragging them back and forth luxuriously lazily until they rested around the tingling tension of nerves. He tightened and plucked then tapped and swept across the ball of tension at his fingertips, creating an electric storm within Bella’s brain that wiped out everything save one word.
“More,” she said, and he gave her exactly what she wished for, sliding her body down to meet him until he was firmly embedded, allowing her to adjust to his size. He drew out and then thrust back, teasing her relentlessly, each thrust going deeper, surging into her. He washed her breasts with his hands, a gentle circular motion that teased and tingled, trailing his fingers from one nipple to the other down to the triangle where he massaged, all the
while slowly thrusting.
Bella’s body tingled. She could feel nothing but him inside her and his velvety palm starting fire on her areola. She scraped her nails down the freckled skin of his back and spread her legs beckoning him without words to delve deeper, matching her inch-for inch.
She thrust her hips forward and rolled into a rhythm that matched his as stars of pleasure shot through every millimeter of her body—from toe-tips to hair follicles, Bella tingled with the static of his electricity. Luke’s breath caught, and he thrust once more, his entire body shaking from the release. He collapsed himself upon Bella’s chest as he tried to catch his breath.
Bella allowed herself to close her eyes, the warmth of the afterglow making her drowsy. She felt herself slipping into a sunny day in South Padre Island, the smell of the sea and the grit of the sand beneath her towel almost real in the dream. She felt a tickle on her chest and tried nudging it away, only to squint in the sunlight to see Reece, shirtless beside her.
“You’re so beautiful,” he said as she raised her hand to block out the sun. “You’re the only one for me.” His voice echoed as he spoke the words, and again he tickled Bella by trailing his fingers lightly along her chest.
She giggled and pushed them away. “You know I’ve always loved you, Reece,” she said, and in her dream, he bent towards her and kissed her passionately. His mouth was soft on hers, yet his lips were firm with possession, and she wrapped her arms around his neck and brought him closer to her, wanting his weight to crush her into the sand. He suddenly pulled away and began shaking her by the shoulders.
“Bella? Bella? Are you okay?” he asked, but the voice wasn’t his; it was Luke’s.
Slowly, Bella realized where she was, and it wasn’t South Padre Island on the beach, and she wasn’t making out with Reece. She was in her bedroom in her apartment in Fort Worth with Luke beside her nudging her, a weird smile on his face.
“I’m not sure what you were doing, but it looked a little like you were conducting an orchestra on this end,” he said. “You almost knocked me out when you started flailing those long arms of yours,” he said.
With concern, she fully awoke, wondering how clear her dream had been to Luke, and whether he could tell who was with her in her dream state.
“Sorry,” she said and tried for a sheepish grin. “I’m not sure what that was. Did I say anything?”
Luke shook his head. “You mumbled something, but I couldn’t make it out. Too garbled.”
“Hmmm,” Bella said, though deep inside, she was relieved that no names had been mentioned insofar as she knew.
Christo sat across from Bella and raised his wine glass.
“To reclaiming spaces,” he smiled.
She faked a pouty lip. “Is it horrible that I’m glad he’s moving out?” she asked for what had to be the hundredth time.
Christo set his wine glass down and fixed her with a steady gaze. “The only reason you asked him to move in with you in the first place was because you felt guilty about firing him and you felt guilty about having wild woodland sex with Reece that trumped Luke’s just the day before. Now be honest.”
Bella cleared her throat and took a small sip of wine as she stealthily tried to glance around her to see if anyone was reacting to Christo’s comments which were, in her humble opinion, uttered a little louder than necessary.
“Keep your voice down,” Bella warned quietly. “I’m embarrassed enough at myself.”
“Well, I don’t think there’s real cause for embarrassment,” Christo said. “It was a horrible idea in the first place fueled by guilt and dishonesty with yourself.” He waved his hand in front of his face. “But you know how I feel about it already. I just think it’s time you made a decision, Bella. It’s not fair to the men, and it’s certainly not fair to yourself to keep bouncing back and forth.” He lowered his head and his voice as he leaned towards her. “And tell me the truth: you’re thinking of Reece when you’re in bed with Luke, aren’t you?”
She felt herself reddening, her flesh flushing first to a pink then to a deep red that intensified into almost purple.
“Never mind, your face says it all,” Christo replied. “Besides, have you and Luke had ‘the talk’?” He used his fingers to make air-quotes around the word “talk”, and Bella knew exactly what he was meaning.
“No,” she hissed. “I don’t know how to bring it up. I can’t just look at him one night before bed and say, ‘Oh, yeah, Luke, by the way, I’ve been wondering: are you bisexual? Are you wishing I were a man? Are you hiding some gay secret from me?’”
“Sure you can,” Christo said.
“No,” Bella assured him, “I can’t. I just can’t bring myself to do that . . . at least not yet.”
“You will,” Christo declared.
“How can you be so sure?” she asked.
“Because I’ve heard this song before. Methinks you’re doing quite a number of things now that you said you’d never bring yourself to do before.”
Bella shot him a warning with her eyes. “Careful, Drake. I can only take so much sermonizing and judgment. God knows I’m judging myself harshly enough as it is.”
Christo fixed Bella with a serious look. “You’re judging yourself, yes, but you still aren’t truly getting to know yourself. You still aren’t being honest with yourself, Bella. You’re running from something—but you’re the only one who can know what that is and why that is. I really think it’s time you get honest with yourself and with Reece and Luke.”
“To get honest with myself and with them, I’d have to get honest with Nicky,” Bella said, running her finger lightly over the rim of the wine glass in front of her.
“Pfft,” Christo spat, sat himself back in his chair, and looked away. “Don’t mention that girl’s name to me; she’s dead to me.”
“I told you she wants me to be Hayley Jo’s godmother?” Bella asked.
Christo rolled his eyes. “What does that say to you, Bella? The bitch practically cuts off her friends when she lands a rich boyfriend who impregnates her, never does anything to make amends for the hurt she caused her so-called best friends when she literally dropped them at some of the most important passages in their lives, and then, when you show up to try and rekindle the friendship, she has the balls to ask you to be her child’s godmother. Just what does that say to you?”
Bella could feel the wall of animosity Christo had put around his heart when it came to his former friend Nicky Martin. She didn’t blame him; as far as she knew, Nicky still hadn’t contacted him with apology or explanation regarding her absence at his wedding. In Christo’s world, she was merely a part of his history; nothing more. An entry in the past pages of his life. And he had a point: Nicky had never made a move to recover her friendship. It had been Bella that had done the work, and in a wave of emotion, Nicky had blurted out her request for Bella to be godmother to her daughter. It felt contrived and false, more like a part she was acting.
“I’ll tell you exactly what that means,” Christo continued, his ire definitely up. “It means she has no one, Bella. She has pissed on all her friends and most likely her family too. She finds you offering the peace pipe, and she jumps at the shred of friendship she may possibly still be able to salvage with you, and plays on your emotions and nostalgia for the past, and asks you an enormous favor because she can’t count on anyone else.”
Bella sat, her mouth tight and cocked to one side, a slight frown on her brow. “I’m not exactly sure how I’m supposed to feel right now—a little offended? She has no one so she asks me? Is that supposed to make me feel good?”
Christo patted her hand. “You’re taking it the wrong way, Bella Boo. It’s good she has you, but it’s presumptuous of her to believe that a few words and a reminder of a past promise reconnects you and makes you the friends that you were before she so quickly wrote you out of her life. My sentiment is: she’s done that to others; they just won’t have anything to do with her, so now, all she’s left with is you.
”
Bella sighed. “I don’t know. It still makes me feel second-rate, but I get what you’re saying. Still, I haven’t even agreed to it—for all the reasons you just said. How does a girl who professes to be your best friend simply drop out of your life and then expect to return to normal after so much life has transpired?”
“I don’t know,” he answered. “And I don’t plan to. I guess you are just a better person than I am.”
Shaking her head, Bella replied. “Not a better person. Just tangled in this mess in a more intricate way than you.”
“Aaaaannnndd, we’re back to Reece,” Christo said, pointing his slender finger at her. “You can’t avoid him, have you noticed?”
She had, Bella realized, but now she was being called out on it.
53
Luke walked out the door of Dallas’s Chase Bank counting the bills he had just gotten from the teller. Ah, it was good to have money in his pocket again. It was better to know that he wouldn’t have to rely on anyone else to feed and shelter him for a while . . . well, not directly anyway.
The move had gone easily, and Reece had made good on his promise to land him a job.
“Beggars can’t be choosers,” Reece had said when he’d told Luke to show up at Zipper’s, the gay bar, and talk to a guy named Chet.
“I thought you’d have me something in design,” Luke had said to Reece.
“Well,” Reece commented, “let’s put it this way: you’ll be providing patrons with something nice to look at while they are at the establishment, so in a way, you’ll be part of the design itself. Does that work for you?” Reece had laughed sardonically, enjoying the fact that he could pull Luke’s strings for a while longer.
While the position wasn’t exactly what Luke had hoped for, he had to admit that it was growing on him, and he was already feeling heady from all the connections he’d made at the new job. The money wasn’t bad at all either. In fact, that had been the one thing that had helped him get over his initial fuss about working at Zipper’s.