Love Rewritten

by J. Saman

  She squeals at the top of her lungs and I have to pull my phone away from my ear before I go deaf.

  “Jesus, I hate it when you do that.”

  “I know, but I’m so excited.” She’s practically panting into the phone.

  “Okay, Nina. Go to work.” I hang up on her, putting my phone into my bag and walking into the living room in search of my denim jacket.

  “Aub?” I call out as I round the corner.

  “Yeah?” he responds automatically. The sound of guns being fired mixed with a strong male voice commanding things I don’t understand from the television tells me that he’s playing video games.

  “Do you know where my denim jacket is?” I ask as I find both Xander and Aubrey sitting on the couch next to each other, leaning forward in concentration, controllers in hand.

  “No,” he says back, but I wonder if he even heard me. “Fuck you, dude,” Aubrey yells out, adjusting his position on the couch like he’s actually about to get up and fight for real. “You can’t do that shit.”

  “I just did, bro. Nothing you can do about it,” Xander says back, equally intent on killing him. I roll my eyes and walk over to the front hall closet in search of my jacket that was not in my bedroom closet. I need something over my bare shoulders. “Ha. Gotcha bitch.”

  “Asshole,” Aubrey grumbles. “What the fuck are you wearing?” he yells, and for a second I think he’s still talking to Xander before he calls my name, making me turn around to face him.

  “What?” I ask, feeling my eyebrows furrow.

  “You can’t go out in that, Abby.” Aubrey is standing now, walking toward me with conviction, like he’s about to pick me up and throw me in my room.

  “Calm the hell down. I’m trying to find my jacket to put over it.”

  “No. I’m talking about your legs and the makeup. Do you work for Whores-R-Us?”

  I smirk, tilting my head at him. “Really? That was so lame.”

  He waves me off dismissively. “Whatever. You can’t go out like that.”

  “I thought we agreed you’d stop this crap already?” I turn back around to the closet and after pushing a few things aside, I find what I’m looking for and slide it off the hanger. Shrugging it on, I walk back towards my room because I really don’t want to stand out here with Aubrey and the way he’s looking at me.

  “Xander, I’m right, aren’t I?” Aubrey follows me, grabbing my arm and stopping me before I can escape. He turns my body to face Xander, who hasn’t moved from the couch since I walked in. Aubrey’s hand goes back and forth between me and Xander like he’s trying to egg him on to say something.

  I pop my hip out and sigh, because I can’t imagine Xander has anything positive to add here. But he surprises me when he stands up and takes a few steps in my direction. His eyes sweep languidly over my body as he does, soaking me in. They glide down my dress, stopping on my exposed thighs before trailing back up to my face, pausing on my red lips, where they turn heated.

  I feel his eyes, everywhere.

  Every place they touched, I feel.

  My heart is racing and my skin is tingling and I’m nervous that if either of them look too closely they’ll notice my reaction. This is not the first time I’ve reacted to Xander or to his looking upon me. Sometimes it’s impossible not to because he’s just that good looking. But it’s been a while.

  Mostly because he never looks at me anymore.

  His cobalt blue eyes darken, turning smoky and fucking hot.

  And I swear I see interest in them. I swear it’s there, until he opens his mouth. “I don’t see what the big deal is, Aubrey. I don’t think she looks pretty,” he emphasizes the word, “like this, so I can’t imagine Kessler will either. Though I suppose the dress is a bit revealing so she should definitely change.”

  Okay, guess I was wrong about what his look meant.

  “Screw you both,” I snap, pulling my hurt gaze away from Xander and storming back to my room like a scorned woman. But before I can slam my door in protest, there is a knock on our front door, which I wasn’t expecting. Usually you have to be buzzed into our building and those few extra minutes between buzzing him in and reaching our door were vital to my composure.

  Which just officially went out the freaking window.

  Especially after the comments Aubrey and Xander made.

  I spin around quickly, trying to get to the door before Aubrey does, but he beats me by a mile and I hear Brandon’s voice before I even make it through the hallway.

  I pass Xander on my way, who looks at me with desperate eyes that make me pause. “Don’t go out with him, Abby,” he pleads making my eyebrows knit together.

  “Why?” I don’t understand.

  “I just . . .” he sighs out, looking defeated and it makes me take a step in his direction. “Never mind. It doesn’t matter.”

  “Xander—”

  He shakes his head, stopping me, and then my attention is called over to the door as I hear Aubrey talking to Brandon. Xander brushes past me, heading directly for the front door, but I take an extra minute, still reeling from Xander’s plea.

  “So, where are you taking my sister?” Aubrey asks Brandon and I can just imagine him there with his arms crossed over his chest like he’s standing guard over my virtue.

  “I was thinking a Thai place, actually.”

  “Uh huh.” Aubrey’s tone is cold.

  “How’s it going, Xander?” Brandon politely asks, just as I make it into the entryway, where the three of them are congregating in one of the most awkward displays I’ve ever seen.

  Brandon looks . . . well, he looks good. His dark blond hair is gelled and brushed forward in a frat boy version of a faux hawk. He’s wearing a light blue sweater that hugs his strong muscles. I’m starting to think he wears this color often to accentuate his eyes. His dark jeans hang from his lean hips in just such a way.

  The second Brandon’s eyes catch mine, they widen, and then blink three times. “Wow,” he says, almost absentmindedly to himself. He doesn’t rake over my body the way Xander had. Instead, he stays locked on my face. “You look gorgeous,” he says in awe, and I want to throw a smug smile to Xander and Aubrey both, but I don’t.

  I’m not that childish.

  “Thanks. You look great yourself.”

  He smiles, stepping up to me, still towering over me despite my four inch wedges. Leaning down, his lips gently brush against my cheek and for once, Aubrey is silent.

  “You ready?” I ask once he pulls back to his full height.

  “I am,” he gleams, his eyes only on me.

  Any doubts that I had about his motives with me vanish. Right then and there. Because not once did he look at my body in a way that was sexual. His expression only shows appreciation. Brandon reaches down, taking my hand into his and leading me toward the door.

  “Night, guys,” I call over my shoulder, turning my head quickly and catching Xander’s face. His normally stoic mask is gone and he looks . . . pained? That can’t be right. But before I can delve deeper into that, Brandon pulls me out and the door shuts behind me.

  “So,” I look over at Brandon as we exit the building and he leads me in the direction of his truck, “where are we going tonight?”

  He looks down on me as he opens my door for me, helping me up into the truck because it’s high off the ground. “Do you like Thai food?” he asks, suddenly looking worried about his choice.

  I smile brightly and his eyes soften.

  “I do. I love it.”

  He nods, shutting my door and running around to the other side and getting it. His car is very clean and smells like a mixture of cologne and new car smell. The soft leather feels cold against my exposed legs, but the heat blasts out of the vents the second Brandon starts the engine.

  “How was your day?” I ask, suddenly feeling a little awkward. I can’t imagine that Brandon Kessler and I have all that much in common that would make conversation between us easy. But then again, we didn’t seem to ha
ve a problem on Tuesday and we texted back and forth a few times yesterday.

  “It was good,” he says as he pulls out into traffic. “I had a couple of classes this morning and then spent most of the afternoon in the weight room.”

  “Really?” I ask a little surprised, though I guess I shouldn’t be. He is a Division One athlete, a star one at that, and I know that they work extra hard to stay in shape. I place my bag on my lap, angling towards him a little in the open expanse of the cab.

  “Yup.” He chuckles, reaching over and taking my hand, he pulls it from my lap and rests it between us. “That’s usually what the team does when we don’t have a practice day.” He looks over at me quickly with a smirk before turning his eyes back to the road. “I’m sore as hell, so if you see me move funny, you’ll know why.”

  I chuckle, shaking my head. “I don’t think I’ve ever lifted weights in my life.”

  He laughs with me, playing with my fingers in his hand. “Now that you mention that, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you at the gym.”

  “That’s because I’ve never been to the gym here.” He looks over at me again as he navigates through the light rush hour traffic that we get in our small college town.

  “You don’t work out?” His eyes skirt over my body quickly, not in a checking me out way, but more in a curious way.

  “I do. I run most mornings. I’m just not much for going to the gym and running on a machine that doesn’t take me anywhere.”

  “Where do you like to run?”

  I shift in my seat a little, crossing my legs since I’m wearing a short dress. “I usually just do the loop.”

  “All of it?” he asks amazed.

  I nod my head. “Yeah, it’s only four miles or so.”

  He laughs, throwing his head back a little. “It’s actually a bit more than five.”

  “Oh.” I turn my head, looking out the window. I didn’t realize that.

  “We should do it together sometime. What time do you run?”

  I shrug, my eyes still out the window watching the street lights create shadows along the way. “It depends. I like to go early, closer to sunrise.”

  “That may be a bit too early for me.” He laughs lightly, playing with my fingers again, before releasing my hand and pulling us into a parking space. He comes around, opening my door for me and helping me down, which I try to do without flashing him my panties. Taking my hand in his, we walk into the restaurant, which is nicer than I expected it to be.

  I’ve never actually been in here before. We usually get takeout from the Thai place that’s closer to our apartment, and this is on the other side of town. The room is dimly lit with a blue glow emanating from the bar off to the right. The rest is only illuminated by candles on each table.

  Very romantic.

  The very pretty hostess, whom I think is a senior, leads us to a table in the back, all the while eye-fucking Brandon.

  I want to laugh at that, especially when she glares at me quickly before telling only Brandon to enjoy his meal.

  The intimate two-person table is set with a white tablecloth, a single red rose in a small bud vase and a flickering votive. A short, stout waiter comes over and Brandon orders a beer while I get a glass of white wine.

  “I’m going to be honest with you,” Brandon says as we’re both perusing the menu, “I’ve never had Thai food before.”

  I snort, lowering my menu to look at him. “Then why on earth did you pick a Thai place to eat?”

  He looks down, a sheepish expression on his face. “One of my housemates suggested it. Said it’s the type of place a girl like you would like.”

  I laugh, leaning forward over my menu. “A girl like me? I’m sorry, I’m going to need further clarification on this.”

  He shrugs, smiling despite looking a little uncomfortable. “You know.” He shrugs again.

  “Nope.” I shake my head. “I definitely don’t know.”

  “Fine,” he groans. “I’ve always gone out with sorority girls who were fine with me taking them out for a cheap burger or whatever I wanted, but you’re,” he looks down again, “different. You’re smart and beautiful, but just different in the way you dress and the things you like to do.”

  “So you thought a girl who wears black, dyes her hair unnatural colors and has piercings would be into Thai food instead of a cheap burger,” I surmise and he nods, feeling stupid.

  And I don’t want him to feel stupid, because I think it’s actually very sweet that he put so much time and consideration into this date. That he brought me to a nice, romantic restaurant that is far beyond his comfort zone to try and make me happy.

  “Brandon,” I reach across the small table, taking his hand that is resting on top of it, “I like Thai food.” He smiles, relieved. “But I also like cheap burgers and bar food. I like pretty much everything and am far from picky or particular, so don’t feel like you have to change yourself and what you like for me.”

  He beams, squeezing my hand. “I could like Thai food.” He glances down at his menu. “Only, I have no idea what to order.”

  I laugh, sliding my hand away from his to take my menu in both hands. “I’ll order for both of us. How’s that?” He looks nervous. “I promise I’ll get stuff I think you’ll like.”

  “Okay. I trust you.”

  Sure enough, he likes everything I picked out and eats enough to feed three of me.

  And we didn’t shut up once. We talked about everything and he even gave me some ideas for my manuscript, which I think I may implement. I don’t remember the last time I had this much fun on a date.

  Maybe never.

  We leave hand in hand, much the way we came in, when his phone rings.

  “Sorry,” he says, reaching into his pocket to retrieve it. I wave him off, letting him know that I don’t care. I move towards the car and he hits the unlock button, this time not helping me inside because he’s preoccupied on the phone. The car is cold since we’ve been inside for a couple of hours, but thankfully he gets in and starts it up for me while he finishes up on the phone. “Let me ask her, okay? Hold on.” He moves the phone from his ear and puts his large hand over the microphone on the bottom. “A few of my friends are at Brew’s, do you want to go?”

  I nod my head. “Sure, my friend is working there tonight.”

  “Great.” He brings the phone back up to his ear. “We’ll be there soon. Later.” Hitting the end button, he slides his phone back into his pocket before turning on me. “You sure that’s all right? I don’t want to make you hang out with football and lacrosse jocks.”

  “No. That’s fine. I’ll hang out with anyone.” That didn’t come out the way I intended, but he doesn’t take it the wrong way.

  Instead, he scoots across the seat to me.

  “If you’d rather go somewhere else just the two of us, like for coffee or a drink, I’m good with that.”

  I smile, nudging him in the arm with my shoulder. “Stop worrying so much about me. I told you, I’m not high maintenance. We ‘alternative girls’,” I use air quotes on that because that’s what he called me before and I nearly peed my pants with laughter, “like bars as much as the sorority girls do.”

  He laughs, leaning in and kissing the side of my mouth like it was a reflex. Like it was the most natural thing in the world and we’ve been doing it forever. He pulls back quickly, eyes wide as he realizes what he just did. “Sorry.” He runs a hand through is hair. “I, uh . . .” He bites his lip a little. “I don’t know why I did that.”

  I shake my head, smiling. “It’s fine. I didn’t mind.” And I didn’t. It was a really cute gesture, and if this is where we have our first kiss, I won’t be disappointed.

  “Can I do it again?” he asks softly, his eyes bouncing back and forth between mine and my lips. I give a slight nod of my head and apparently that’s all he requires, because his head dips down and his lips brush against mine softly, sweetly. Like he’s savoring the moment and is afraid to rush it. But just as quickl
y, he deepens it, snaking his hand around my waist and pulling me tighter against his body.

  My fingers reach up, running through the back of his hair as his tongue opens my lips and sweeps over my own. A low groan rumbles from the back of his throat and he pulls away, breathing hard and looking like he wants to do it again.

  “Wow.” He smiles, chuckling lightly. “That was . . .” He brushes a hand through his hair. “We should stop or I will quickly lose my status as a gentleman because I will definitely want more.”

  “Then let’s go meet your friends.” Because I will not let him make me a cliché in the back of his truck.

  “Right.” He grins, showcasing that adorable dimple. Shifting back over to his seat, he covertly adjusts himself. Of course, I notice it anyway.

  “Good thing I’m wearing color stay,” I remark as he puts the car into drive and we head over to the bar.

  “Huh?” He glances over at me quickly, before reaching to take my hand again.

  “My lipstick.” I smile at his puzzled expression. “I’m wearing red lipstick and if it wasn’t color stay it would be all over your mouth now.”

  He laughs, reaching up to touch his lips quickly as if he’s making sure they’re lipstick free.

  “I like the red.”

  Bringing my hand up to his mouth, he gently kisses my knuckles before bringing our joined hands back down and resting them on the seat again.

  I’m half tempted to text Aubrey and let him know just how respectful Brandon has been. How he’s opened doors and held my hand and asked if he could kiss me.

  Seriously, how many college boys do that? None. That’s how many.

  He took me to a restaurant that he was totally unfamiliar with because he thought that I might like it. Brandon has been nothing but perfect, and maybe he does have a bad reputation with women, but so does Aubrey.

  I think he’s wrong about Brandon Kessler.

  This doesn’t scream act. This type of effort doesn’t say he’s searching for a quick lay. It says he’s invested. It says he’s hoping for more.

  And that makes me smile.

  So why do Xander’s heated eyes and pleading words suddenly fill my brain