Craving Shannon

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Craving Shannon Page 6

by E. D. Brady


  The smell of garlic hit his nose the minute he stepped into the main dining area.

  “Ah, Mr. Clarkson, how are you this evening,” an older man with a thick Italian accent called out. “Table for two?”

  “Hi there, Mario,” Chad replied. “Yes, please. This is my friend and co-worker, Shannon,” he added by way of an introduction.

  “You have very beautiful eyes,” Mario commented, smiling into Shannon’s face. He walked to a two-seater table by the wall and pulled out a chair for her. “Cosi Bella.” He added, smiling up at Chad.

  “That she is,” Chad agreed, and sat down facing the girl.

  “Antonio will bring menus,” Mario explain, then bowed his head and mumble “Buon appiteto.”

  “Mario is the owner here,” Chad explained. “This is a real family business. His wife Maria works the kitchen on the weekdays. On the weekends they have a chef who has more experience expediting for the large crowds.”

  Shannon nodded.

  “Oh, and he thinks you’re very beautiful,” he added.

  Shannon blushed crimson, much to Chad’s dismay. He found her blushing irresistible. He stifled a groan and bit down on his lip.

  “Do you drink wine?” he asked, looking over the wine list.

  “I don’t have fake ID,” Shannon admitted.

  “Don’t worry about that, you’re with me,” he replied. “How about a bottle of chianti?”

  She shrugged her shoulders and nodded.

  The waiter poured a small amount of wine for Chad to taste. Once he got the okay, he poured Shannon’s glass first. She took a small sip and winced.

  “You okay?” Chad asked. “If you don’t want it—

  “No, no it’s fine,” she assured him.

  “You sure?… because I don’t want to force alcohol on you if it isn’t something you want.”

  Shannon shook her head. “I’ll admit I haven’t drunk a lot of wine, but beer is a different story,” she confessed. “Bill, my mother’s husband, used to keep lots of beer in the house. I’ve drank it on many occasions.”

  “They didn’t mind you drinking?” Chad asked.

  “They didn’t know,” she replied quickly. “Mom and Bill didn’t really pay too much attention to anything I did.”

  Chad felt his heart break a little for her. He could tell by the all too familiar sadness in her eyes that she’d endured her fair share of heartaches. “How so?” he asked then was sorry he had pushed the issue. He watched her shake her head as if the subject was off limits.

  “Your father?” he questioned, hoping that she would at least talk about that.

  “He died when I was eleven,” she answered, “he and my brother.”

  Oh, for heaven’s sake, why couldn’t he stop pushing her?

  “He picked my brother up from Baseball practice one night…” she shrugged quickly and bit her lip before continuing. “At an intersection one block from our house, a drunk driver ran a stop sign…”

  “Jesus, Shannon, I’m so sorry,” Chad breathed, reaching over to cover her hand with his.

  She took a large sip of her wine and shook her head again. “It’s alright. It was a long time ago.”

  “And so your mother remarried?” He knew he should just quit while he was ahead, but for some mysterious reason, he really wanted to know this girl.

  “Not at first,” she answered. “Mom is one of those women that don’t do well on their own. She basically fell apart for the first few years…drank too much…” she shrugged again. “When I was fourteen she started working at a diner. She pulled herself together somewhat. That’s where she met Bill. He was visiting Kentucky on business, based out of Miami. They dated for a couple of years. He’d come to see us once every two weeks or so. Then one day, three years ago, she announced that they were getting married and that we were moving to Miami.” Her words seemed innocent enough, but Chad could see the pain and torment in her eyes and felt sure that there was more to the story that Shannon didn’t care to divulge.

  He nodded. “Miami is nice,” he said, trying to lighten the mood.

  “I hated it,” she replied bluntly, looking past his head as though deep in thought. She squared her shoulders, seeming to compose herself. “So Sarah tells me that you have a girlfriend.”

  He looked up at her and smiled. “Sort of,” he confessed. He thought he noticed a look of disappointment flash in her eyes briefly, but then assumed he must have imagined it.

  “So are wedding bells in your future?” she pushed.

  “I doubt it, at least not with Donna.”

  “Don’t you love her?” Shannon questioned.

  “I don’t believe in love, well, at least not that way.” He looked up to see a bewildered look on her face. She blinked rapidly. “What?” he asked, trying to hide a smile.

  “What do you mean by that?” she asked. “I mean, how can you not believe in love?”

  “Romantic love is only a chemical reaction in the brain, only a biochemical chain of events.”

  “And so that makes it less real?” she queried. “I don’t see how. It still is what it is. Something had to cause the biochemical chain of events initially.”

  Chad opened his mouth to argue, but nothing came forth. “Interesting,” he said instead. “I suppose I never looked at it that way.” He sipped his wine and let his eyes bore into her. “Doesn’t change anything for me, though. I’m not interested in all that baggage. It’s seems to make people crazy.”

  “I think the good would outweigh the bad,” she said. “I think having someone who rocks your world, who you could love for life, would be worth all the craziness.”

  God, she was lovely. “Let’s agree to disagree,” he suggested, appreciating her beautiful features.

  “Okay, your loss,” she mumbled.

  Chad insisted that Shannon should have the linguini vongole. She gave in under the condition that he had a piece of cheesecake for dessert.

  “Have you ever seen The Lord of the Rings,” he asked. They’d spent the better part of dinner throwing questions at one another regarding books, music and whatnot.

  “No,” Shannon said, shaking her head.

  “Okay, so just so you know, we can’t be friends until you do,” he explained.

  “What?” she blurted out.

  “I refuse to be friends with anyone that has not seen and loved The Lord of the Rings,” he replied with a playful smile.

  “Isn’t it like twelve hours long?” she asked with a horrified expression.

  “Yes, but you have to do it,” he insisted, feeling the wine buzz. “We can watch it together.”

  “When?” she questioned.

  “We’ll play hooky from work one day. You can come over my house, as long as you promise to bring the popcorn.”

  “It’s a date then,” she answered, holding up her glass as though in toast to the agreement.

  Chad opened his mouth to say something witty, but found himself extremely intrigued by the notion of spending the day with her, watching his favorite movie. He shook his head and breathed out a quiet “Yeah.”

  By the time he paid the check, it was still only seven thirty. “Are you in a hurry to get home?” he questioned.

  “Oh, gosh no.” Shannon said firmly. “Why?”

  “There’s someplace I want to take you,” he explained. “I think you’ll like it.”

  Twenty minutes later, he was pulling open the door to McDermott’s pub. “This is my second home,” he announced quietly. Part of him realized that this was probably not the smartest move he’d made in a while and that he was more than likely acting on an alcohol induced idea, but Derek and Alex were already beckoning them over, both with knowing looks smeared across their faces.

  He put his hand on the small of Shannon’s back and ushered her toward his two best friends. “Shannon, these two idiots are my dearest friends—Derek White and Alex Pomari. Idiots, this is the lovely Shannon Walsh.”

  Shannon held out her hand for Derek to sh
ake. Instead, he took her hand and brought it to his mouth then kissed her fingers smugly. “It is a real pleasure, Shannon,” he said, smirking.

  Alex spread his arms then wrapped them around Shannon’s shoulders. “You are adorable,” he said, kissing her cheek.

  Chad pulled her away from Alex, laughing. “That’s enough, perv, I didn’t bring her here for you to hit on her.”

  “Why did you bring her here,” Derek said before chewing the inside of his cheek cockily.

  “For beers,” Chad replied, matter-of-factly, hoping that Shannon could not understand the nature of Derek’s teasing.

  After an hour or two of conversation, they decided to play pool. Shannon took the pool cue when it was her turn, leaned over the table and aimed. She turned to look at Chad over her shoulder. “I don’t really know how to do this,” she admitted.

  “I’ll help you,” he answered. He stood behind her and leaned forward, placing his hands over hers on the cue. As she leaned further over to aim at the ball, Chad suddenly felt her firm, tight behind rubbing up against his groin, teasing his cock. He felt it stiffen. Trying to ignore the sensation, leaning over with her, he realized that they were in the very position that he fantasized about the day before. He could feel her soft sweater against the inside of his arms, and wanted nothing more than to wrap those arms around her waist. He longed to kiss her neck before allowing his hands to ride up the front of her sweater until they found her large, rounded breasts.

  He stood up straight and ran both hands through his hair, trying to compose himself.

  Just then, Shannon made her shot and turned to see if Chad approved. Her hips ended up between his legs and their faces mere inches apart. Chad locked eyes with her momentarily before clearing his throat and stepping back a couple of inches. He knew he wanted her badly, but what he found strange at that moment was the look on Shannon’s face. She stared into him as though she wanted him also. “Maybe I should take you home,” he suggested. The pain of needing to touch her was almost suffocating, unbearable. He needed space from her before he cried like a small child.

  “I’d prefer to go alone,” she said, swallowing hard.

  Chad shook his head. “No fucking way, Shannon. If you’re out with me, I bring you right to your door.”

  “I’m going to insist,” she argued. “I don’t want to put you out of your way.”

  “Insist all you want, but you will not leave this bar by yourself,” he countered.

  “I can take care of myself. I can—

  “I don’t give a shit what you think,” Chad barked. “I’m taking you home and that’s final.” He didn’t really mean to sound like her father, but he could tell she was panicking about letting him know where she lived and at that moment, he didn’t really give a shit about her silly pride. He would never allow her to travel home alone at that hour of the night. “If it makes you feel any better, I’ll allow you to walk up to your apartment alone while I wait in the cab, provided you promise to text me when you’re safely in your apartment.

  “I don’t have a cell,” she said quietly, letting her eyes drift to the floor.

  ‘Oh for fuck sake,’ he thought. ‘Note to self: get this silly girl a company cell phone.’

  “Okay,” he said. “I’ll drop you outside your building, will that do?”

  She nodded, biting on her lip while refusing to meet his glare.

  It was worse than he could have imagined. Even the cab driver was apprehensive about entering such a notoriously bad area of the city.

  “You gotta be fucking kidding me,” Chad said under his breath. He felt Shannon stiffen beside him and prayed she hadn’t heard that quiet outburst. “Which building?” he asked.

  “The third one down,” she said timidly.

  “The one with the jacked-up car in front,” he questioned, feeling his temper rise.

  She nodded and undid her seatbelt.

  “Thank you for a nice day,” she said, opening the car door and exiting before he had a chance to answer.

  When she disappeared inside the building, Chad told the Cabdriver to head back downtown. He was angry as hell but couldn’t figure out why. Was it because a lovely girl like Shannon had been dealt a shitty hand, whatever that hand may be? Or was it because he wanted the girl so badly, but was mad at the universe for making her so damn young? Whatever the reason, by the time the cab reached 61st street on the FDR, Chad was regretting leaving her in such a dangerous place.

  “Turn around,” he ordered suddenly

  “Excuse me?” the cabdriver asked.

  “Please, go back to the girl’s building,” he reiterated.

  “I can’t go—

  “Sir, I will pay you a thousand dollars if you go back uptown and wait while I collect my friend,” he bargained.

  “One thousand dollars?” the driver asked skeptically.

  Chad pulled five hundred dollars from his wallet and handed it over. “I have five hundred more right here,” he held up another five, one hundred dollar bills for the driver to see through the rear view mirror. “I’ll hand these over to you when you drop me off in front of my building in Tribeca.”

  Within minutes, the cab was racing back uptown.

  Chad sprinted from the cab and barreled into the foyer of Shannon’s building, trying to ignore the drug deal taking place in the courtyard. He scanned the list of names next to the individual doorbells, but couldn’t see Shannon Walsh among the them. A man walked into the building behind him. He turned and addressed the man. “Sir, do you know where Shannon Walsh lives?”

  “You a cop?” the man replied suspiciously.

  “No, I’m her friend,” Chad answered. “Do you know her?”

  “There’s a pretty white girl that lives on the third floor. Is that her?” the man queried.

  Chad shrugged. “What apartment?”

  “3B, I think,” the man answered.

  “Thank you,” Chad called out, pushing through the door that should have been secured by a lock. He took the stairs two at a time. Turning to face 3B, he pounded on the door, not caring about the time of night or whom he may be disturbing. “Shannon!” he bellowed. “Shannon, open the door!” He leaned his forehead against the door and prayed he had the right apartment. He heard the chain pull back and the lock click.

  Shannon opened the door and stood in the entryway sheepishly, her lip trembling.

  Chad pushed past her into the apartment and stopped short, horrified by the scene in front of him. “Dear God, it’s a fucking crack den,” he said in a weak voice.

  Shannon let one fat tear escape. “It’s all I can afford,” she said, wiping her eye.

  He turned on his heels and faced her. “Pack your stuff. You’re leaving here,” he barked out. “This is absolutely no place for a young lady.”

  She took one look at his face and walked across the floor. She pulled over a small duffle bag and picked a handful of discarded t-shirts off the floor. She threw the t-shirts into the bag then swung it over her shoulder. She walked back over to Chad and stood before him, totally deflated.

  “I said to pack all your stuff,” he stated, fury rolling off him.

  “This is everything I own,” she admitted.

  Chad nodded. “Let’s go.”

  He didn’t say one word to her all the way back downtown to Tribeca. He stared out of the window, biting the pad of his thumb, wondering what kind of trouble she was in, but more than that, he wondered why it affected him so badly.

  When the cab reached the front of Chad’s building, he handed over the other five, one hundred dollar bills and exited the cab, saying nothing. He opened the lobby door, gestured for Shannon to enter, and pulled the bag off her shoulder.

  Once inside his apartment, Chad gestured to the bedroom on the right. “My guest room is that way. Please make yourself at home,” he said.

  “Chad, can I say something?” Shannon asked nervously.

  Chad shook his head. “I’m tired, Shannon. Go get some rest. We’ll
talk in the morning.”

  Chapter 8

  Shannon puffed out a large breath and turned on her heels to walk toward the bedroom that Chad had pointed out to her. She opened the door and let her hand roam around the wall until she found the light switch. Turning on the light, she looked into a pretty black and white room. The walls and carpet were white, the furniture black and the bedding a swirly pattern of black and white. The only other color in the room where tiny specks of red thrown in haphazardly—a cluster of red candles on the black dresser, a small red throw pillow on the bed, red ties holding back black and white curtains, and several canvases of black, white and red abstract artwork on the walls.

  Despite the uneasy feeling inside, Shannon breathed a sigh of relief. The room was clean, warm and completely safe.

  She pulled a hair tie off her wrist and scooped her hair back into a ponytail. She opened her duffle bag and rooted around for her oversized t-shirt. Stripping off her jeans and sweater, she pulled the large t-shirt over her head and climbed under the clean, thick covers.

  The bed spun initially, no doubt from the effects of three glasses of wine and three beers. She thought she might be sick, but then seemed to grow accustomed to the movement because before long, she was more concern with Chad’s strange mood than with her own motion sickness. She couldn’t begin to figure out what had gotten into him. He was always so sweet and kind, but since he suggested driving her home, his mood seemed to take a turn for the worst, like he was extremely pissed off at her for something.

  She cringed at the memory of the look on his face when he glared into her disgusting apartment. She died a little inside at that moment. As thankful as she was to be in his warm, safe home it hurt to have Chad know exactly what kind of girl she was and what she’d come from.

  She blurted out a tiny, sarcastic chuckle. What did she think would happen anyway? After one fun day together, did she really think he’d want to date her? In spite of her silly little crush, she knew Chad saw her as nothing more than a friend, something more along the lines of a kid sister maybe. She was only nineteen after all. If she was lucky enough to ever have a boyfriend like Chad, it would be years into the future. As of now, she was just a stupid girl with an attraction to a man almost double her age, a man that was entirely out of her league, one that she would never, ever be good enough for.

 

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