Unravel

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Unravel Page 4

by Samantha Romero


  I glanced away from the TV and into his brown eyes. “You’ve got a dirty mind for such a young kid, don’t you?”

  He shrugged, “Sue me.”

  I leaned over to his curly locks wrapping my fingers in them, then running my hands across his shoulders in urgency as I pulled his body down on top of me. “Come here, babyface; let me teach you a thing or two.”

  He fist pumped the air in celebration, as our tongues started to dart and swirl around in each other’s mouth. I broke our kissing, unable to contain my laughter. “Did you just fist pump the air? Really?”

  He looked at me sheepishly. “Yeah… you get me excited.” His hands started to pull open my kimono as he gazed down at my body.

  “Uh-ah, speedy.” I said, wiggling my index finger at him with a smile. “Off to bed for you,” and I led him across the room to my bed where I pushed him back on the mattress, and proceeded to drop my kimono on the ground. He squirmed like everything depended on how fast he could get his jeans off.

  “Slowly does it,” I whispered as I knelt onto the bed and massaged his tanned shoulders, “you’ll pop a gasket at that rate.”

  He looked over his shoulder at me with pure optimism and said, “I was hoping I would.”

  I laughed, as I kissed his warm, soft neck. “You’re beautiful, Josh. Please don’t ever lose your optimism—you give me hope; you make me smile.”

  Fingers entwining, our wet lips pressed together once again. Gently, he lay me down on my back and proceeded to cover my body in a trail of hot, steamy kisses. Down… further and further sending chills of bliss through my body and awakening everything.

  ***

  I woke with the sunlight shining in my eyes. Pulling the black cotton sheet up and over my face, I groaned, “What time is it?” Rolling over, I noticed Josh’s young, golden body draped over mine. I smiled. He was even cuter asleep—calmer, not in such a rush. No wonder we slept in, I thought. Shimming further down into the sheets, I peered at the big sports watch he still had wrapped around his wrist.

  “Oh my god—I’m late for work!” I said as I jumped out of bed in total panic.

  He rubbed his eyes slowly, squinting in the sunlight as I frantically ruffled through my drawers for non-dodgy underwear.

  “What time do you start?” he asked sleepily, his eyes barely half open.

  “Thirty minutes ago!” I replied in panic. Then I laughed, imagining how crazy I must look to him. “Do you have a time machine in that Lambo?”

  He scratched his head in thought. “Nah.”

  Walking across the tiles, I called behind me, “Well, thanks for last night anyway, babyface—it was fun. You made me smile, I’ve been kinda blue lately. Well, really blue, actually.”

  He sat up in my bed, resting on his elbows “Nah, thank you! You’re fun; can I see you again tonight?”

  I looked at my painted nails, realizing they were looking particularly feral and chipped as I tried to get my brush through my disheveled hair. “I don’t know—I don’t want this to turn into…”

  He sat up, letting the sheets fall to his waist. “Into what?”

  I hopped up and down as I tried to wriggle into my work pants, while still desperately trying to pacify my hair. “Um, a habit.”

  “Huh?” he said, getting out of bed fully starkers and standing in the sunlight as it beamed off his tight bod.

  I looked him up and down, “You’re not shy, are you? Your jeans are over there.” I pointed to the pile of rubble at the end of my bed. “Good luck—don’t be surprised if you come across a roach, this place is icky… I really should tidy more.”

  I hurried forward and gave him a peck on his soft, boyish face. “I’m really late, Josh. I can’t get fired, or I’ll be living in a cardboard box outside the Duomo! Please help yourself to some breakfast if you want, and just be sure to give the door a big yank on your way out.”

  “How long will you be at work?” he asked, pulling on his college t-shirt.

  I ran out the door and said behind me, “Eight, nine hours. I don’t know—depends on the boss and her mood; she’s pretty crabby. Bye!” I waved playfully as he stood there with the same lost look plastered across his face that I had seen the night before.

  Weeks passed, and Josh did turn into a habit.

  A boyish, bonking habit.

  Although he put the spring back into my step, and the blue haze I had been stuck in lifted when I was around him, I just couldn’t get Danny out of my mind.

  His masculinity,

  His roughness,

  His being,

  His…

  Everything.

  7

  “So?” Jess smiled at me, almost Cheshire cat-like.

  I tried to play dumb. “So… what?”

  She elbowed me in the ribs playfully. “How are you getting on with Lambo boy?”

  I laughed. “Oh, um… he’s young.”

  “Keen, though—right?”

  I blushed. “Yeah, he’s keen. He went and bought a Kama Sutra book a week or so ago and has been wanting to try out all the moves. He reckons he’s learning a lot and is…”

  “Is what?” She leaned forward, resting her chin on her hands, eagerly waiting for my next word.

  I shrugged, giggling. “Grateful?”

  She smiled widely. “Do you like him?”

  “He’s really young, Jess. It’s not like this is really going to go anywhere. But you know, he’s a good kid. He’s not a mind-fucker, you know? What you see with him is pretty much what you get, and I like that. He’s a really lovely guy.”

  She smirked at me, leaning forward as her charm bracelet jingled. “Have you been bonking like rabbits?”

  I covered my ears playfully. “Jess. Stop! You’re so graphic.”

  “You have, haven’t you!” she clapped her hands, laughing gleefully.

  “We’ve had quite a lot of sex, yeah. It’s been fun—I do like him.”

  And I did. If I could have put myself in a freezer to stop the aging process so he could catch up to me, I would have. He was a sweet kid. But that was the problem—he was a kid. A baby-faced, sweet puppy dog. And I wanted a big, sexy, know-what-I’m-doing, know-what-I-want-to-do-to-you kind of man. I wanted Daniel.

  I couldn’t get him out of my mind. No matter how much I rode brown eyes, or how desperately Josh tried to get me horny, even though it was good—it wasn’t that good. Compared to Danny, we weren’t even having sex. What Danny and I did that night, was raw, untamed—hot. How I wanted him—it—back, and the feeling of him inside of me. Even though months had passed, part of me could still feel him there, and I badly wanted every glorious inch of him back.

  8

  Sunday morning rolled round, and as per our unspoken routine, Jess and I caught up.

  “My gosh, I’ve been seeing you a lot lately! How many times has it been this week—three?” I laughed as she wrinkled up her nose at my question. “Guess you’re making up for my hermit weeks, huh?”

  She rolled her eyes as she passed me a takeaway cup. “I got you a latte, darling. It’s not in a glass, though. Do you think you’ll survive?”

  I shook my head, exhaling. “Yes, yes, very funny, pass it here.” There had been a continuing joke that followed me around like a bad smell. Many years back, Jess and I took a road trip together through the back blocks of Italy, ending up in a very derelict little town. I had gone into the first and only café on the main street and asked for a latte in a glass. The woman stood and scoffed at me, stating, “We don’t have glasses, but I can make you one in a cup—it will taste the same.” I wasn’t impressed, and neither was she.

  “I grabbed the paper too,” Jess was gushing. “God look at his face, he’s soooo hot, I’d do him any day. That lucky cow, being attached to him!” She flopped herself back on my bed, waving her legs in the air like a school kid. “Imagine, you could buy a designer handbag every single day. He probably has six platinum cards!”

  She started reading out loud whilst bouncing up an
d down in excitement. “Our wedding is going to be a small affair,” she coughed, gasping for air, her eyes popping out of her head as she continued to read. “Five hundred guests will join us at a twilight ceremony at the Castello Sforzesco, followed by an intimate dinner at the Four Seasons Hotel Milano. The bride will be wearing a silk Vera Wang ivory gown, and the groom has had a custom-made Leonard Logsdail suit flown in for the occasion. The wedding will be on May 1.”

  I grinned, watching Jess and her silliness, as I relished in the divine taste of crushed beans in my mouth. “What are you going on about, Jess?”

  She sat upright on the mattress her bright blue eyes sparkling mischievously.

  I dissolved into laughter with a quizzical look on my face “Jess, who are you talking about? Another WAG to be, huh? There are so many famous people wandering round at the moment, it’s hard to keep track of them all. It seems all you need to do to become famous is make a sex tape.”

  “Oooh, I should make one then!” She cackled, winking at me as she dropped the paper on the coffee table in front of my knees.

  “Sexy, huh?” She smiled, ruffling her hands through her glossy, golden locks. “Imagine being with him.”

  My face must have hit the floor.

  It was him. Again. On the front page.

  I flipped over the paper in a wave of panic, hiding his face as I stood up and walked into the kitchenette. I went there for absolutely no reason, other than to get as far away as possible from his printed face.

  “Oh my god!” she shrieked, jumping up and down in hysteria.

  I turned to look at her with tears welling in my eyes.

  “You’ve had sex with Daniel Anderson!! And now he’s sending you roses every day!! I can’t believe it. You lucky mole! What’s he like? I want to know everything.”

  I bit my lip, shaking my head. “I can’t do this, Jess,” and I stepped out onto the balcony, leaving her alone as she bounced up and down on the broken tiles inside. As my tangled hair blew around, unaffected by my lingering thoughts, I wrapped my arms around me to ward off the cool air that cut through my bones.

  Now with a plan to escape, I sashayed inside and straight to the grey wooden wardrobe next to my bed. Getting down on my hands and knees, I pulled out my father’s old suitcase from under it. The day he walked out, he never even bothered to pack. Thanks, Dad, my mocking mind uttered.

  “What are you doing?” Jess quizzed, looking perplexed.

  “Packing,” I said as I threw clothes into my suitcase.

  Her voice got excited, “Are you going away on a secret rendezvous with him?”

  My green eyes shot her a glare of anger “No!” Within a split second my emotions changed, and I dropped my shoulders in sadness. “I just need to get away.”

  “Where are you going?”

  “I haven’t decided. Um… Paris? How does that sound?”

  “Do you want me to come with?” she asked, concerned.

  “No sweetie,” I whispered. “I just need to be by myself and think.”

  “How long do you reckon you’ll be gone?”

  “I don’t know—just a few days probably. I will have run out of money by then anyway.”

  Jess nodded.

  “I’ll stay at a cheap backpackers—I promise, I’ll call you when I arrive, so you know I’m ok.”

  Jess walked over to me cautiously, treating me as if I were a wildebeest she didn’t want to startle, for fear I may charge. She watched me frantically chucking clothes into the suitcase, which must have appeared as a blur in front of her eyes. “Do you love him?” she whispered.

  My voice splintered into shards of sadness. “Please, Jess, don’t. Can you give me a lift to the train station?”

  She put her arms around me and squeezed tightly. “I can do anything you need me to do. You know I’m always here for you—no matter who you’re with.”

  She grabbed her car keys off the bench and smiled at me lovingly, rubbing me on the back. “Let’s go, missy.”

  I smiled with relief. “Thanks, Jess—I really appreciate it.”

  9

  I wish this were a movie, I thought as the countryside chugged on by. This trip is taking forever. I hadn’t bothered to find out how long it was going to take, and seven hours later, I was getting bored, for lack of a better word. Bored of my mind whirring round and round, resembling a stuck record with each sad song featuring Daniel. Bored of the granny sitting across from me, determined to show every photo of her grandchildren and great-grandchildren taken from day one.

  Bored of it all.

  If this were a movie, taking the train to Paris would have gotten me there in thirty minutes, and I would have been locked away in a private cabin, making love to my husband who had just returned from war. Instead I was stuck with who-knows-whose granny as she waffled on.

  Around twenty minutes later (and I hate to think how many more baby photos), with relief I waved goodbye to the old dear as I pulled my suitcase onto the platform at Paris Gare de Lyon. Although the station was a smudge of people and energy, I felt complete serenity being away from everything that was familiar—my thoughts, Josh, my crabby boss, and more than anything, away from him. I wandered up to an information desk. “I’m looking for somewhere really cheap to stay. Do you know somewhere close?”

  The lady smiled at me. “Yes! Give Hotel Tolbiac a try; it’s only a short walk away.”

  I looked at her, confused “Oh, I don’t need to stay at a hotel. Do you know of anything cheaper? Anything with the word ‘hotel’ in front of it sounds expensive.”

  She laughed warmly, “The hotel is only one star, so you needn’t worry about it being expensive—but it is cheerful.” And she went onto explain exactly where I could find it.

  Sure is ‘cheerful’ I thought as I walked in the door. Who decorated this place? The rainbow fairies? Every wall, door—surface—was painted a different bright color. I would have called it more alarming than cheerful. I booked a single room, which, the guy proudly reported, came complete with a bed, desk, chair, and sink. The shared bathroom was apparently down the hall. The French man with the usual nasal accent then informed me with a smug smile, “Your room is on the fourth floor.”

  “Can you tell me where the lift is, please?” I innocently asked.

  He rubbed his chin as he tactlessly laughed at my expression. “Madam this is a 19 century stone building. There is no lift—just stairs.” He then pointed to a long flight of colorfully painted steps with no offer of help, despite the reception area being completely empty.

  Clonk by clonk, I dragged my luggage up the psychedelic staircase until I reached the fourth floor and found my room. The room was tiny and, like the rest of the “hotel,” very brightly painted. It made my studio apartment look like a mega mansion. But it was clean, and there were no cracked tiles or roaches in sight—just squeaky wooden floorboards as I wandered across them. I wondered how anyone could possibly sleep in a place like this. It looked like the walls could easily start glowing in the dark. I shuddered at the thought.

  Dumping the suitcase on my bed, I decided to go straight back out while there was still some light left in the day. Chucking on my sunglasses to avoid the glare from the décor, I ran downstairs and out onto the Parisian sidewalk. The Seine was not too far from the hotel, and I figured fresh air was just what I needed to clear my mind of all the baby photos and other spam filling it.

  10

  I stared into the murky water as I reflected on the day—it sure hadn’t been routine. I could never have imagined when Jess knocked on my door earlier that morning, that by the end of the day I would be in Paris, staring at the Seine.

  “Hello darlin’.”

  I turned around in utter disbelief. “God, are you everywhere? Have they cloned you? Seriously—you’re driving me insane. How can you be everywhere all at once?”

  His dimples came out to play as his hand ran down his chiseled, sexy jaw. “What are ya doin’ here, Siena?”

  I looked aroun
d, hoping that a helicopter would fly in, Fear Factor style, dropping a rope ladder above my head to whisk me out of the situation. Sighing, defeated, when I realized one wasn’t about to appear, I answered, “Trying to get away…”

  He smirked. “From what?”

  I looked into his deep, beautiful eyes. “You know the answer as well as I do.”

  He pointed at his chest. “Moi?” Laughing, he asked “Why would you want to get away from me, darlin’?”

  I fiddled with the hem of my t-shirt. “Because I find you… tiring. Really, really, tiring. I feel drained, Daniel.”

 

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