Cocktails & Dreams

by Autumn Markus

  “Leisa! That’s great! Not to say that I haven’t enjoyed having you stay with us, but I know you wanted your own space.” Jena’s face fell. “Will it be your space? I mean, is…”

  “Travis moving in with me? Not yet, but my guess is he’ll be around your apartment a little less than he is now. Starting this afternoon. I want him to come with me to do the final paperwork and get some furniture. So do you think…?”

  “Oh, I get it now. Lunch was a clever ruse to embarrass me and get me to take Travis’s afternoon appointments on my day off.”

  Travis gave her a smacking kiss on the cheek, knowing Jena couldn’t resist the combined charms of her friends. “Thanks, Jena. It’s not much. The worst one is Mrs. Ellemen’s knee. That’s a water routine, so take your suit. Then a couple of easy ones and you’re done.” He stood and picked up the check. “I’ll even take care of this for you.” He smiled down at Jena and then swiftly stooped to kiss her on the head. “Don’t be mad, Jen, okay?”

  Jena was surprised to feel tears prickling behind her eyes at his un-Travis like thoughtfulness. “Get out of here, you fools. I’ll call you when I’m done, and you can show me the new digs. And buy me dinner to go with my lunch, of course.”

  They laughed, and Travis wrapped his arm around Leisa, guiding her to the door.

  The trip to the university was a nightmare. It seemed like every idiot in Davis had decided to take a leisurely drive that afternoon, and Jena barely had time to get her suit on before Mrs. Elleman hoisted herself into the pool. Of course, the patient was peeved not to get a chance to ogle her favorite therapist, and that made it even more irritating for Jena to be in the water with her as she complained and made half-hearted attempts to complete her workout. By the time she was finished, Jena was five minutes late for the next appointment, even without changing or taking a quick peek at the chart. Maybe she could get the receptionist to stall for a few minutes, Jena thought distractedly, or ask if the patient wanted to reschedule.

  Dashing toward the office, Jena stopped dead. Nicholas was sitting on the massage table.

  “Hi, Nicholas. I’m just on my way out to see if Carrie can stall my next appointment, so…” Jena blurted out.

  “Too late. She just sent me in here and told me to wait for you. I can. Wait, I mean, if you want to change.” His eyes traveled slowly down Jena’s body and back up, and he grinned devilishly. “You don’t have to.”

  “Two minutes.” Jena fled to the locker room, slamming the door against the wall. “‘Don’t be mad, Jena.’ Jackass!” she muttered, quickly stripping off her swimsuit and pulling on her clothes. No time for a shower. She took a deep breath as she paused at the door and counted to ten. She could do this. She was a trained therapist, for God’s sake, and Nicholas was a patient.

  Plastering a professional smile on her face, Jena strode confidently from the dressing room, taking a second to pull Nicholas’s chart from the office before she returned to him. “Your shoulder seems to be healing remarkably well, Nicholas. You must be taking good care of it and following your outside exercise plan.” She kept her eyes on the chart, flipping through the pages.

  “Sure. My dad is a surgeon, so I know better than to disobey doctor’s orders. All I need is for Dr. Call to tell him I’m slacking off. I’d be dead meat.” He caught Jena’s hand. “Did I do something, Jena? You seem a little…”

  She chuckled, still not meeting his eyes. “Just a busy day. I’m fine. Okay, so this says that Travis has been starting off with massage and then moving on to the machines.” Jena cursed her roommate once again. Professional, she reminded herself. “Let’s get that sling off, okay?”

  Carefully releasing the tight chest binding, Jena slipped Nicholas’s arm out of the sling and moved to unbuckle the strap around his neck.

  “Would you mind just lifting it over my head, Jena? It takes forever to get right if you undo that strap.”

  “Of course.” Reaching to lift the webbing over Nicholas’s head, Jena felt his hair brush under her chin as his head was pressed briefly against her chest. “Sorry,” she said a little breathlessly. “I guess I’m too short to do that without a step stool.”

  “I don’t mind.” Nicholas cleared his throat, shifting a little on the bench as he started to unbutton his shirt.

  Jena dropped her eyes to the file on the desk. How the hell was she supposed to do this?

  “Can you help me?” Nicholas asked.

  Jena saw that his left hand was caught in the sleeve of his shirt. “Sure.”

  After helping him get the sleeve off and bringing the shirt around his back to ease it off his right arm, Jena set to work on his shoulder, determined not to look at his broad chest and flat, toned middle. Too bad the long muscles of his back were equally distracting.

  Mentally resolving to murder Travis the Traitor, Jena asked Nicholas how he and Conor were settling into their new town. Nicholas chuckled and proceeded to tell her funny stories about Conor’s job at the fire station and how he was adjusting to life in California. Apparently, people were “too nice.” It made Conor nervous.

  “He should be better this weekend, though. Samantha’s coming to town. She’s no one’s idea of nice.” Nicholas chuckled, eyes closed. “That feels so good. You have magic hands, Jena. Are shoulders your specialty?”

  “Nope. I can make you feel good anywhere.” Crap. Jena felt Nicholas repressing laughter. “Just shut up and put your shirt on, fool.”

  His eyes twinkled as he carefully eased his shirt back on and left it unbuttoned.

  Jena turned, taking a minute to collect herself while making notes on his chart. “Okay, shall we move on?”

  Nick nodded, still grinning. They moved steadily through the prescribed exercises, talking a little about their friends and what each of them had been up to since the night in the bar. As Nicholas was working on the last machine, Jena asked about something that had piqued her curiosity.

  “Conor and Samantha seem to have hit it off really fast. Is that normal for him?”

  Nicholas chuckled. “Because of the speed or because of his general gooniness?”

  Jena choked back a laugh. “Well, I wouldn’t have put it that way, but yeah. Both. He doesn’t seem like the type for a girl like Sam.”

  “It’s the damndest thing.” Nick grinned. “I don’t know if it’s the confidence or what, but women fall all over the goob. They never last long, but it’s always him doing the dumping.” He shook his head. “It’s a mystery. He’s been fixated on women like Sam since he hooked up with some blonde last New Year’s when we were in San Francisco.” His eyes, suddenly guarded, flicked to Jena. “How did you spend your New Year’s?”

  Jena’s mind raced. No way was he getting the truth. Hey, remember me? Yeah, that’s right. You don’t.

  “I usually spend the holidays with my parents, now that my brothers have moved away. You know, family games, sparkling apple cider at midnight. That sort of thing.” That was true of most years, but last New Year Jena’s mom had surprised her dad with a holiday cruise. Thus began the booze fest with the worst roommate in the world.

  Nicholas sounded faintly disappointed. “Yeah. Sounds nice.” He sighed as he did the last rep and let the weights gently settle down.

  Jena turned from the notes she was taking to see him fumbling at his buttons one-handed. “Here, let me help you,” she said. She stepped forward, between Nick’s knees, inwardly ordering her fingers not to shake as she swiftly buttoned his shirt, leaving the top three buttons undone.

  As Jena finished and moved to step back, Nicholas caught her hands and brought them up to his lips, kissing each finger softly. “Thank you, Jena.”

  She nodded, feeling her stomach flutter as Nicholas held her hands. Her eyes met his.

  “Would you come over tonight and save me from an evening of trying to avoid seeing Conor and Samantha grope each other?” Nick asked softly. “Ask Leisa and Travis, too, and we can play poker or something. Please?” He held her hands against his c
hest. Jena could feel the warmth of his body against her palms, and she couldn’t look away. She felt herself gradually lean forward.

  Suddenly, strong hands grasped Jena’s hips and jerked her back slightly. She felt a face buried in the hair at her neck.

  “Mmmm…chlorine. My favorite perfume.”

  Jena reached over her shoulder to slap at her roomie. “Travis, you ass! You about made me pee my pants. What are you doing here? I thought you and Leisa had some heavy-duty business to do.”

  He laughed, backing up a step and taking Jena with him. He murmured in her ear, “You have an audience, sugar.”

  She glanced around, startled, to see a couple of the office staff peeking in the door and gaping. Jena felt a slow blush start to creep up her neck.

  Travis continued in a louder voice, “Yeah, she’s some serious shopper, though. I got bored, so I told her I’d be back to get her in a few minutes. I just came to see if you were through so I could buy you the dinner I owe you.” He let Jena go and reached out to shake Nicholas’s hand. “You look like you’re doing pretty well, Cooper. You even shook with your right hand.”

  Nicholas looked down, surprised. A grin spread across his face. “I guess I did. You guys do good work here. Can I get rid of the sling?”

  Travis laughed and shook his head. “Not quite, but we can loosen it, I think. Might make sleeping a little more comfortable. If you keep progressing like this, I think you’ll be done with it in the next week or so.”

  “That is exquisite. Thanks. So, would you guys please come over tonight and save me from Conor and Samantha?”

  After a quick call to Leisa, plans were settled, and they agreed to meet at Nicholas’s apartment for dinner. Nick looked at Jena curiously as she stood slightly behind Travis and just waved as he walked toward the outer office.

  Jena turned to Travis as the door closed, eyes trained on her feet. “Thanks, Trav. I don’t know what happened to my brain.”

  He snorted, reading the notes she’d taken on the day’s session. “I’m not exactly sure that organ was involved at all. I thought you might want to keep your job, and sucking face with a patient in the treatment room is not the way to do that.”

  Tears of frustration welling up in her eyes, Jena turned to escape. Travis grabbed her arm.

  “Hey, Jen. I was just kidding, sugar.” He wrapped his arm around Jena’s shoulders and squeezed. “After we got to the store, I started to feel guilty about sticking you with my afternoon. I know how the guy affects you, and I’m sorry. It turned out to be mean, though I promise that I didn’t intend it that way. I’m a total asshat. Still friends?”

  “Yeah, I guess so. Since you admitted your asshattery.” Jena wrapped her arms around Travis’s waist and squeezed. “Thanks again.”

  “No probs. You’d do the same for me.” Jena felt a low rumble of laughter in his chest. “I think we should cement your reputation as the Pussycat Doll of PT, though.” He dipped her dramatically and pressed a closed lipped, but passionate-looking kiss on her mouth. Jena heard a shriek from the office, and the door banged closed. “There. No one will even remember Nicholas was here today,” Travis said with satisfaction, pulling Jena upright. “I already rescheduled the last appointment, so let’s get movin’.” He slapped Jena’s ass, and she heard another shriek from behind the office window.

  “Thanks, Uncle Travis. I think,” she said, shaking her head and walking toward the dressing room to grab her swimsuit.

  Nicholas answered his front door at the first knock, inviting the trio inside. Conor and Samantha glanced up from the TV long enough to smile, shout hello, and wave everyone into the living room. As Leisa tugged at his arm, Travis handed the basket of goodies they’d brought along to Jena, and she headed to the kitchen, heaving it onto the counter to start unpacking the provisions.

  Nicholas leaned one hip against the counter next to Jena, lips twisted up into the lazy grin that made her heart thump. “Impressive. Remind me not to piss you off, Ahnold.” He drew the last word out Schwarzenegger-style.

  Jena grinned, patting her bicep. “That’s right, baby. Be very afraid of these.”

  Nicholas ran the backs of his fingers over the same bicep and into the sleeve of Jena’s shirt to caress her shoulder. “I don’t think ‘afraid’ is quite the right word,” he said, shifting closer. “Nice shirt, by the way.”

  Jena turned back toward the basket, face red. Wearing the pink tee with the word Tasty delicately inscribed on the chest above two strategically placed peaches had seemed funny at home in her bedroom…not so much now. “A joke gift from Leisa.”

  “Doesn’t seem silly to me at all,” Nicholas said, turning her toward him. “In fact—”

  “Don’t you have bratwurst that need to be turned, Nicky?” Conor’s voice sounded from the doorway.

  Nicholas closed his eyes and muttered fuckhead under his breath. Jena giggled as he dropped his hand and straightened up. “Be right back, Jena.”

  Conor started to dig through the things remaining in the basket, mumbling happily with each discovery. “You guys bring the good shit, don’t you?” he asked with a grin. Finally finished scavenging through the snacks, Conor raised an eyebrow at the impressive array of liquor displayed on the counter.

  “We like to be prepared.” Jena smiled. “Can I help with plates or anything?”

  Conor nodded, opening a cupboard and rummaging for paper plates. “You know, Jena,” he began casually, head still deep in the cupboard, “I don’t know how you convinced Nicholas you’re not his girl from New Year’s, but I know better.”

  Jena’s knees got mushy, and her head spun. “What are you talking about?” she asked, cursing her voice as it squeaked unconvincingly.

  Shutting the cupboard, Conor handed Jena a stack of plates and napkins. “Don’t try to bullshit a bullshitter, sweetheart. I may have only seen you from behind when the door was closing, but I never forget an ass.” He grinned, tugging on Jena’s braid. “This either. Long hair fetish.”

  Jena moaned, setting the dinnerware on the counter and dropping her face into her hands. “Tell me this isn’t happening. Kill me now, God.”

  Conor laughed and pulled her face up with one of his gigantic hands. “Don’t sweat it, girl. I won’t say anything. I like to see Nicky squirm. Keep in mind, though, he’s gonna figure it out if you guys get much closer.”

  Jena closed her eyes briefly, face still captured by his fingers. “Then I’m not getting any closer. Apparently, I’m not very impressive anyway.”

  He chuckled. “I wouldn’t exactly say that. I could tell you some stories…” Conor’s eyes flicked over Jena’s shoulder, and he carefully picked something off her cheek with a deftness that surprised her from such large hands. “Got it. Don’t want a lash to get in your eye—hurts like a bastard.” He released Jena’s face, and she felt a warm arm circle around her stomach.

  “What’s up?” Nicholas’s voice was curious, but with an edge. He pulled Jena back against him, tucking her head in under his chin.

  “Eyelash, dude.” Conor rolled his eyes. “What did you think—that I was making a move? With you on the deck and my date in the next room?” He snorted. “Give me a little credit, Dickolas.” He took Jena’s hand and raised it, brushing the back gently with his lips. “I wouldn’t want to rush with this one. I might forget something,” he murmured, winking.

  Jena had to admit, her heart did a little extra beat. Charming bastard.

  “Brats ready?” Conor asked, dropping her hand and grinning when Nicholas started muttering under his breath. He sauntered out of the room, and Jena quickly followed with the dinnerware, not quite ready to look Nicholas in the eye yet.

  After dinner, Jena finally relaxed, accepting that Conor wasn’t going to reveal her secret to Nicholas. She had resigned herself to losing every hand at the poker game Nick proposed, since she sucked at card games, but was determined to have fun anyway. It wasn’t difficult to do so once Leisa’s liquor stash was breached and everyone
loosened up. Soon the evil woman was emerging from the kitchen, wagging a bottle of Jäger.

  “Who’s up for it?” Leisa sang, dropping a shirtfront full of shot glasses on the table and flashing the room in the process.

  Nicholas immediately held up his good hand, shaking his head. “Count me out. Jäger and I don’t get along.”

  Conor bellowed laughter. “Just because you decided to drink an ocean of Jäger on New Year’s and can’t remember anything is no reason to puss out now.” He eyed Jena, smiling a little when he intercepted her startled, considering stare at Nick. “How about you, kid? Do you have the ’nads?”

  Far be it from Jena to ignore a challenge, especially after several drinks. She pushed aside the sudden clamor in her head, as the relief that there was a reason Nick didn’t remember her fought with embarrassment that she hadn’t been enough to overcome the effects of alcohol. Looking coolly at Conor, Jena gulped straight from the bottle and dropped it in front of him when she was through.

  “How about you, big mouth?”

  Leisa giggled. “Don’t even try it, Conor. This girl can drink you under the table and then dance on it. Remember your trophy, Jen?”

  Jena groaned, dropping her head on her arms. “Is this necessary, Leis?”

  “Nope. But it’s damned funny.” Leisa patted Jena on the head. “Our junior year of college, we went to a party and Jena got funky with—what was it? Oh, peach schnapps and tequila. Ended up participating in and winning a wet T-shirt contest. She won because she flashed the judges.”

  “So she says,” Jena said, voice still muffled by her head in her arms. “I have no memory of said event.”

  “Maybe not, honey, but I’ve got photographic proof, stolen from an avid fan.”

  Jena banged her head on the table as the rest of them laughed.

  “Well, now,” Samantha purred, putting her feet up on the edge of the table and tipping her chair back against the wall. “That gives me an idea. How about we make this a little more interesting and change the game to strip poker?”