by Lisa Edward
“Nothing happened,” I reassured him. “Please don’t be angry with Marcus, it’s hard to convince people I have a boyfriend when you’re never around. I feel like a kid with an imaginary friend. I just miss you so much.”
Tears started to flow and I couldn’t stop them, so I let them fall. “I can’t stand only seeing you once in a blue moon; it’s so hard. I know I have friends here, but I don’t want Kelli, or Jason, or Marcus … I WANT YOU, and you’re never here. I know you had this career long before you met me, and I know it’s selfish of me to want you to myself, but I don’t care. I want you here, with me. I can’t do this long distance thing; it’s killing me … I just can’t …”
“Please, Tara, don’t say it.” His voice was calm, too calm, but it instantly soothed me. “Please don’t say you can’t do this anymore. I know it’s hard, it is for me too, but I love you so much. I can’t do this without you.”
Trying to stem the flow of tears, I took a couple of deep breaths and listened to Riley’s breathing on the other end of the phone.
“I’m fine.” I finally managed.
I knew I was still shaken by what had happened with Marcus, and it was adding to the impact of missing Riley.
“I love you, too, I just miss you all the time. We need to work something out, and soon.”
He agreed, his voice filled with relief. “We will work something out. In fact, I already have a couple of ideas I’m following up. In the meantime, I’ve put in for a few days leave at the end of this month. We can spend the whole time together, just the two of us.”
I sniffled, as I smiled at the phone. “Great, what do you want to do?” I asked, instantly going into planning mode.
“Absolutely nothing.” He laughed. “Just stay in bed and hold you.”
“I think I can manage that.”
I went into Songbirds that evening just before opening time. I didn’t have to work, but I wanted to speak to Marcus to make sure everything was okay between us. As soon as I walked in the door, I knew they weren’t.
He looked up at me as I walked over to the bar, but he didn’t hug me, and he could barely manage a smile.
“Can I talk to you, Marcus, please?” I asked, pointing towards the back room.
“Um, I’m kinda busy right now, Tara. Can it wait?” He couldn’t even look at me as he spoke.
“No, it can’t wait. We need to sort this out.”
He paused for a moment, and then resignedly nodded his head and ushered me down the hall.
I walked in and sat down on the table-top, waiting for Marcus to come in and close the door, but he stopped in the doorway, as far away from me as possible.
“Marcus, I just wanted—”
He held up his hand, and cut me off. “It’s okay, Tara, really. I just need some time. I need to distance myself from you, and from what happened for a while so I can deal with it.”
What exactly did “distance himself” mean? He took a couple of steps towards me, and then seemed to think better of it. He put his hand over his heart. “I need to protect myself, and the only way I can do that is to not be around you so much.”
I stood up and started walking towards him. “But I want—”
He stepped back. “It’s not just about what you want. It’s about me, and how I feel … about you.” His voice trailed off as he spoke, and he looked down at his hands and sighed. “Do you have any idea what it’s like to be in love with someone for so long, and have to watch them be in love with someone else?”
I didn’t know what to say. I had no idea he’d felt that way. Up until last night, I’d thought he was in some way involved with Jason.
“Do you want me to go? Do you want me to stop playing here?”
The tears were welling in my eyes at the thought of never stepping foot back into my second home, and never seeing Marcus again.
He shook his head. “Please don’t cry, Tara, I can’t bear to see you cry.” He took a few steps forward until he was just close enough to put one hand on my shoulder. “I don’t want you to stop playing here, but we need to redefine our relationship.”
I squeezed my eyes closed to stem the flow of tears.
“No more hugs or cuddling on your couch. No dinners or drinks together after work. No hanging out here for no reason. You work here, and I’m the owner of the bar—that’s it. That’s all it can be; at least, for now.”
I looked into his eyes through a veil of tears. It felt like someone had ripped a hole in my heart where my friend used to be. But it wasn’t about me. I had caused him enough anguish already, and I didn’t want to fight him on this. I had to live with the consequences of my own stupid actions.
I nodded. “Okay, if that’s what you want.”
He nodded, and I saw a tear well in his eye before he turned and left the room.
As soon as he closed the door behind him I sank down into a chair, rested my head on my folded arms on the table, and sobbed. I sat there until the tears dried up, and I could compose myself enough to walk through the bar and make it to the door.
Unfortunately, I sat there a little too long.
Cole burst into the room with his bag slung over his shoulder, which jolted me out of my one-girl pity party.
“Hey,” he said in greeting, before looking at my face. “What’s up? Did you break up with the hotshot boyfriend?” He sounded almost hopeful.
He dumped his bag before coming over to the table to sit on the chair opposite me, as if he were waiting for me to share some good news.
“No, I didn’t break up with Riley,” I said, annoyed that he seemed so happy about the idea.
He shrugged, and then he looked at my face a little more closely, and frowned before leaning forward on the table. “So, what is it, then? Nothing serious I hope.”
I really didn’t want to discuss it with Cole, but I needed to talk to someone. “Something happened with Marcus last night, and now he can’t stand to even look at me,” I blurted out.
“Ahhh, did you finally sleep with him?”
I looked at him, shocked, and he threw his hands in the air. “What? The guy’s just been waiting for the right time to make a move. Although I have to give him credit; I never thought he’d have the stones to go through with it.” He leaned forward on the table. “So, how was it? Not so good, by the sounds of things.” He looked at me sympathetically, which made me furious.
“No, we did not sleep together! He tried, and I said no.”
He raised his eyebrows at me.
“I thought he was gay, all right?! I thought there was something going on between him and Jason.”
Cole threw his head back, and gave a deep, throaty laugh. “You’re joking, right? The guy gets a hard-on every time you walk in the room, and you thought he was gay? Oh, fuck! That’s hilarious!”
My face burned; I didn’t think it was funny at all.
“So that’s where I went wrong. I should have pretended to be gay; then you would invite me to your place to snuggle on the couch, have intimate dinners with me, and rub up against me.”
Reaching over the table, I punched him as hard as I could in the chest. My fist bounced off solid muscle.
“You are unbelievable,” I exclaimed. He was without a doubt the most infuriating person I had ever met.
“Yeah, I know, I get told that a lot.”
I couldn’t deal with him right now. That smug look on his face, those emerald-green eyes burning into me … it was too much.
I dropped my head into my hands. “Well, if you’ve finished having a good old laugh at stupid Tara’s expense, I have to go. Marcus doesn’t want me hanging out here anymore.” Saying it out loud hit home once more, and I burst into tears, again.
His chair scraped back as he got up. Good, he was leaving. But then I felt him squat down beside me and put his arm around my shoulders. “Come on, you’re not stupid. Just a little naïve, maybe.”
Was that supposed to make me feel better?
“Every guy who knows you want
s to get into your pants. Even the gay guy would probably turn if you gave him a wink.”
I couldn’t help myself. I laughed through my tears. I’d never heard anything so ridiculous in my life.
“Why do you think we’re all so envious of Riley? He’s the one who gets you. All of you.” Cole grabbed my hand. “Come on, I’ll drive you home before we have to start playing.”
I was going to decline, but it was getting dark out so I accepted. He walked me through the bar, still holding my hand, shielding me as much as possible from prying eyes, and out to the car park. I headed towards a muscle car that I thought fit him perfectly, but he steered me towards a new sleek Mercedes SL63 AMG Roadster instead.
“Not what you expected?” he asked, a smug grin on his face. It definitely wasn’t; this was a very expensive car.
“So what does Hotshot drive?” he asked, like it was a competition.
“He rides a Ducati motorbike,” I replied proudly. Cole shrugged, unimpressed. “And he flies a helicopter.”
Cole chuckled. “Okay, he wins.”
Jumping out of the car as soon as it pulled up, I muttered a “thanks” before heading for the door and my sanctuary.
“Tara,” Cole called from behind me.
I turned around.
“Let me know if you need anything.”
Emotionally drained, I crawled into bed that night, and stayed there for the next two days.
Monday morning, I called Kelli and told her I wasn’t well, and would have to miss our gym session. Then I called my boss and left a voice message saying I was coming down with something, and would need the day off work.
Monday afternoon I sent Marcus a text message telling him I wouldn’t be able to make it into the bar that night to play. He sent one back an hour later saying OK. That was it; just two letters: O and K. I’m sure he knew the reason why, but it didn’t seem to bother him, so we left it at that.
I was lying in bed, considering getting up to lie on the couch when the door buzzer went. I thought it was probably Kelli coming to see how I was feeling, and to tell me about her trip to Brisbane. I buzzed her up and opened the front door, still dressed in my two-day-old sleeping shorts and singlet.
It wasn’t Kelli; it was Cole.
“Tara, you don’t look so good,” he said, as he walked through the door. “Or smell too good, either. You need a shower.” I went to protest, but he looked at me sternly. “Go. I’ll make myself at home.”
I raced into the bathroom, and jumped under the hot water. It immediately made me feel better, so I washed my hair as well while I was there. I wanted to stand under the water for hours, but I now had an uninvited visitor waiting in the living room. I quickly dried my hair off a little bit so it was just damp before scurrying into my room to put some clean clothes on.
“What are you doing here, anyway?” I asked as I entered the living room to find Cole flicking through my CD collection.
“I went to the bar, and Marcus said you weren’t coming in tonight. So, being the considerate friend that I am, I thought I would come and check on you.”
“How is Marcus?” I asked. Just hearing his name upset me, and the tears started to well in my eyes again.
“He’s hurting, but he’s a guy; he’ll be fine. At least he’s not blubbering all the time, like you are.” He smiled at me and came over to give me a hug. “I’m joking, Tara, although I must warn you that I’m not above taking advantage of you in your delicate emotional condition.”
I went to push him away, but he kept his arms around me and chuckled. “On second thoughts, I wouldn’t do that. You might smell awesome now, but you still look like crap.”
I laughed. It was the first time I’d laughed in two days, and it felt good. I was slowly getting used to Cole’s deprecating sense of humour, and was finding it less insulting the more I got to know him.
I offered him a drink, and told him to sit while I got us a couple of beers. He put some music on and then sat at one end of the couch with his arm resting along the back of it, taking up nearly half of the space. We talked about music and movies at first, before the conversation turned back to Marcus, and how I was going to handle having to work for him knowing how he felt.
“You know, all this talking is what a boyfriend is supposed to do,” he said as he listened to me ramble on. “It’s the trade-off for getting to sleep with you. That Riley’s a smart guy; he gets the sex, and none of the everyday girly stuff.”
I looked at him, stunned, and he raised his hands in the air. “What? I’m just saying, where’s the trade-off here?” He indicated between us, and I slapped him on the arm and giggled, making him laugh. “I think that’s the first time you haven’t taken offence to something I’ve said. Looks like we’re making progress, Tara.”
He didn’t have anywhere to be, so I let him choose a DVD to watch and we had a couple more beers, although I made sure to keep on my end of the couch, and he stayed on his.
He offered to let me put my feet up on his lap or snuggle up, but I’d learnt my lesson the hard way. It was difficult to be friends with a guy, and not inadvertently cross any boundaries that may give them the wrong idea.
Besides, as much as I loved Riley, just being alone in the same room as Cole still gave me nervous butterflies. I think it always would; it was just an energy that he gave off that I couldn’t help but respond to.
I smiled to myself. Of course he gave off a sex-on-legs energy; that’s how he got laid so often. The only difference was, I had no intention of succumbing to it.
I took another sneaky look at him. It was a shame he was such a man-whore; he would be a great catch otherwise. When you stripped back all the cockiness that he shielded himself in, he was actually a really considerate, smart, funny guy, not to mention smoking hot.
I had seen glimpses of the real Cole, and he was letting his guard down more and more often around me. I liked what I saw. But he was a guy who would never settle down with just one girl, and that was the deal breaker. I was a relationship type of person, and he was a casual-sex type of person. The two would never work together.
I caught him watching me a couple of times too, and I didn’t know why. Maybe he was just genuinely worried about me, as any good friend would be. I distractedly pulled my hair back into a ponytail, to get it off my face, and he watched me as I tied it up.
His gaze shifted to my neck and shoulders, and he raked his teeth over his bottom lip. “You should leave it down,” he said in that gravelly voice of his, before diverting his eyes back to the movie.
I remembered what he had told me about wanting to lick my neck the first night we’d met, and it made me blush. Did he still want to do that? I pulled the hair-tie out, and hunkered back into the arm of the couch as much as possible.
“Thanks for the beers, Tara,” he said when the movie was over, and it was time to go. “I’ll make sure everyone knows that we didn’t sleep together tonight,” he said with a wink.
“That’s obvious, isn’t it? You don’t call me ‘sweetheart’ like you call all your bimbos,” I teased.
He laughed. “I only call them sweetheart because I can’t be bothered learning their names, and I don’t think they’d be so forthcoming if I called them bimbo.” He shrugged. “You know, this is new for me; having a female friend. Kinda nice, actually.” He smiled down at me, his emerald eyes searching my face. “I’ve never taken the time to get to know a girl. Never really wanted to before, but you’re an exception.” He kissed me quickly on the forehead. “Good night, Tara. Hope to see you tomorrow evening at the bar.”
THINGS WERE awkward, to say the least, at Songbirds. I only went in when I had to work, and not only was I missing my friendship with Marcus, but I was missing being able to play the piano for an hour or two each day.
Thank goodness Riley was coming for a visit at the end of the week. I really missed him, and I missed the physical contact. I hadn’t realised how many hugs I was receiving from Marcus until he stopped giving them to me.
It had been two weeks since the enormous screw up of the Valentine’s Day night out, and things had only marginally improved. At least now, when I went to the bar Marcus didn’t run in the opposite direction. He had even managed to say hello to me, and give me a half-smile the last time I was there.
But he was extremely closed off still; I guess that was what he meant by needing to “distance himself”, and it broke my heart every time I saw him. I just wanted my old friend back, and for things to be the way they used to be. I missed Marcus, even though I still saw him a couple of times a week.
Riley was due back home this evening, and I was like a kid waiting for Santa. It had been eight weeks since we had seen each other, and although we were in touch nearly every day, nothing could beat having him physically near me.
I’d spent all Thursday evening at the beauticians, splurging on a facial, eyelash tint, and of course, head-to-toe waxing.
I had shaved “my privates” the last time Riley had visited, and it had sent him into a tailspin. However the whiskers that grew a week or so later drove me crazy, and I had to keep consciously stopping myself from scratching like some twenty-dollar hooker with crabs. So I decided to try waxing, the thought of which brought tears to my eyes. I found a place on the Internet that was close to home, and booked myself in. I didn’t feel comfortable asking the girls at work if they could recommend anywhere; that would be a dead giveaway to my plans.
Tamzin, the beautician, was lovely, if not a bit airy-fairy, as some beauticians tend to be. She chose the order of business, deciding on the waxing first to get the worst over with, before the facial, and then the eyelashes.
“Okay, I’ll give you a minute to undress, and lie up on the table,” she said as she closed the door behind her.
Right, so did I leave my underwear on or not? I decided to leave it on; no point stripping everything off if it wasn’t necessary. Then I jumped up on the paper-covered table, and covered myself over with the minuscule hand towel she had left for me. I was just trying to decide the best place to strategically position the hand towel when she re-entered.