Losing His Shirt

by Linda Fausnet

  “Yeah,” Susie said.

  “And?”

  Susie laughed. “He’s amazing. Really. I don’t know how he finds the energy for sex with all his work, but I guess it relaxes him.”

  “Well, I guess so!” I said, feeling nostalgic. I missed that wonderful feeling of total relaxation I got after sex. “Ugh, it’s been so long since I had sex, I’m afraid I’ll forget how.”

  Susie’s eyes got wide and she drew in a short breath. I didn’t understand why she was flipping out until it was too late.

  “Is that so?” came Johnny’s voice from right behind me.

  My face felt like it was on fire as I watched Johnny sit back down next to me, grinning like an idiot.

  “You were not supposed hear that,” I said, forcing myself to look him in the eye.

  “I’m sorry,” Johnny said, his grin fading a little. It seemed he felt bad that I was embarrassed. “I didn’t mean to sneak up on you. I’m just surprised is all. You’re a gorgeous woman. I can’t imagine you have any trouble finding a man.”

  “I don’t know about that. It’s just that I don’t sleep with a guy unless I’m really serious about him, you know? Well, of course you don’t know. Everybody knows how much Johnny Creel loves the ladies.”

  Timothy had rejoined the group and he, along with all the other guys at the tables, looked at Johnny with fascination and not a little jealousy. Everyone was aware of his reputation with women.

  “I used to field tons of phone calls from your lady friends, you know.” It was a minor annoyance to deal with the women calling for him at work, but now the mere thought of Johnny naked in bed with another woman sent a sharp pain through my chest.

  “Oh damn, really?” Johnny asked.

  “Well, yeah. You always gave out the office number to all your hookups. I had women calling for you all the time.”

  “Sorry. I guess I never really thought about that.”

  “Of course you didn’t,” Ryan said bitterly.

  “Be nice,” I told him. I did my best not to draw attention to the fact that Ryan hated Johnny, but I was getting tired of his snide comments. I couldn’t help but feel protective of Johnny.

  “Don’t you miss sex?” Johnny asked.

  I stared at him, shocked that he had asked such a personal question. Everything fell silent for a moment, and I was starting to feel uncomfortable with this conversation. It wasn’t unusual for me to complain about my sex life around my closest friends, but now we were openly discussing it with my former boss.

  “Well, yeah. Of course I do,” I said, hearing the defensiveness in my own voice. “It’s just been a while since I had a serious boyfriend.”

  I stared defiantly into Johnny’s eyes, suddenly angry that I had to explain myself.

  “I can understand that,” he said, his tone gentle. He looked remorseful, like he might apologize for putting me on the spot. He didn’t.

  “There’s no shame in having a one-night stand,” Erica said. “As long as you use protection.”

  “Erica’s right,” Ryan said, putting his arm around me. “You’re beautiful. Any guy here would be thrilled to spend the night with you.”

  “No question about that,” Johnny said, grinning at me again. I wished he wasn’t so damned handsome, and I wished like hell I’d never read any of those gossip articles that alluded to how big he was. Right now, that was all I could think about. One night in bed with him, and I would be plenty relaxed all right.

  “Can we change the subject from my sex life please?” I said irritably.

  “I’m just saying there’s nothing wrong with a good old-fashioned one-nighter,” Ryan said.

  “It’s just not for me, okay?”

  “How do you know if you’ve never tried?” he asked.

  “I did try it!”

  Ryan looked at me, stunned. “You did? You never told me that. I thought you told me everything!”

  Ryan looked wounded, and I felt bad. He was right, I usually confided just about everything to him.

  “I don’t like talking about it, okay? It didn’t go so well,” I said, my voice quavering a little. I looked down at the table, my gut clenching. Apart from some idiot performing bad karaoke, everything went quiet.

  “Why?” Ryan asked, sounding alarmed. “What happened? The guy didn’t hurt you, did he?”

  I didn’t answer right away.

  “Rosemary?” Johnny asked, sounding a little panicked. I knew I had to explain myself before everybody let their imaginations run wild with all the terrible things that could have happened.

  “At first it was okay. I was glad I did it, you know? He was good. Like, really good in bed. We both knew it was one night, and I had no interest in seeing him again. But—I know it sounds so dumb—but … I cried when he left. Like, ugly crying. Sobbing. I just felt so, I don’t know … empty. I thought I could do it. But I just can’t separate sex from my emotions. It’s just too intimate for me, I guess. I couldn’t ever do that again. Even when I wasn’t into the guy at all, it just hurt too much when he left.”

  I finally lifted my head and said, “Can we please talk about something else?”

  “I’m sorry, Rosemary,” Johnny said in a voice so tender it gave me a lump in my throat. “I shouldn’t have pried into your personal life.”

  I smiled at him gratefully, and in a weird way I felt like he knew me well enough to understand how hurt I had been. I doubted he knew that feeling of emptiness himself; he’d bedded dozens of women.

  “Welp!” Timothy said, effectively cutting the awkward tension. “I would be willing to take one for the team and go to bed with you, gorgeous. I’d even make you breakfast after.”

  “Shut up!” I said, laughing as I punched him in the arm. His eyes twinkled with amusement and my tension eased. I loved my friends so much. They always knew how to make me feel better.

  Johnny glanced up at the drunk guy caterwauling up on the karaoke stage. “Do you ever sing here?”

  “Sure. All the time,” I told him.

  “Will you sing now? I’d love to hear you.” A familiar ripple of excitement went through me. I wouldn’t have cared if I knew he was in the audience when I was in Thoroughly Modern Millie, but now it was different. Singing that song from Something Rotten! in Susie’s apartment had been thrilling. I was proud to be a singer, and I loved the way Johnny looked at me when I performed.

  “Sure. I can do that,” I said as casually as I could. Susie caught my eye and nodded with a smile.

  I made my way up to the stage, my head spinning with ideas on what I could sing. I didn’t think I wanted anything too romantic. Part of me wanted to sing a sexy, lovey-dovey song right to Johnny, but I knew that would be a huge mistake. I wasn’t completely sure if Johnny was into me, and I didn’t want to make a fool of myself by letting him know I had feelings for him. Besides, my feelings still scared me. Sometimes I wondered if I had completely lost my mind. I mean, this was Johnny Creel!

  After much consideration, I settled on Kelly Clarkson’s “My Life Would Suck Without You.” I thought the lyrics were fairly appropriate for my relationship with Johnny … whatever it was.

  As I stood up on stage, I glanced over at my group of friends who all had their chairs turned to face me. A rush of warmth and comfort washed over me. Ryan, Erica, Susie, Timothy; they were all smiling supportively. Johnny was leaning forward, like he couldn’t wait to hear me sing.

  The first few lines were about the guy being sorry and taking back everything he said before, so I was sure to look directly at Johnny when I sang it. I couldn’t hear his laugh, but I saw it and knew it sounded deep and sexy. The good sense of humor he had about himself was undeniably attractive.

  I forced my gaze away from Johnny when I sang the part about how we belonged together. I couldn’t put myself out there that much by serenading him so brazenly. Besides, I was a professional performer, so I knew how to make contact with other spectators as I sang.

  I deliberately looked back to J
ohnny when I sang the part about how being with you was so dysfunctional, which it totally was. Johnny laughed again, and I felt connected to him in that moment. It was like we knew we were both in uncharted territory, trying to figure things out. I ended the song by gazing directly into his eyes. Yes, Johnny. I’m starting to see that my life would suck without you.

  Amidst a big round of applause, Johnny stood up and clapped and whistled. He always whistled when applauding me, and I found it utterly charming. He wasn’t just politely cheering me on. It was like, I don’t know, it was like he was turned on by my talent. Maybe I was imagining it.

  When I returned to the table, Johnny reached out and gave me a congratulatory hug. He felt so big when he wrapped his arms around me. He was strong and hard against the softness of my body, and I truly loved his new cologne.

  “You did so great, Rosemary!” Johnny said into my hair as he embraced me. He finally let go and gazed into my eyes. “You were terrific!”

  “Thanks,” I said, tingling all over.

  Then I got an idea. A fiendishly clever idea. Like the Grinch, I suddenly got a wonderful, awful idea.

  “You know, Johnny, it occurs to me …” I began, putting my hands on my hips. “I do believe you still owe me a favor. Remember that day at the Metro?”

  “Yeah,” Johnny said, eying me curiously.

  I glanced at the karaoke stage. “We agreed that you owe me a favor to be called in whenever I deem appropriate …”

  Johnny’s eyes went wide. “No…”

  I nodded slowly. “Oh, yes. You do owe me a favor, do you not, Mr. Creel?”

  “Well, y—y—yes, but not—”

  “I’m calling it in!”

  Johnny looked desperate. “No, you can’t—”

  “I’m doing it!” I continued over his protestations. “I’m calling it in!” I pointed to the stage and said, “Johnny Creel, I wanna hear you sing.”

  My friends erupted in laughter and applause. Johnny closed his eyes and moaned, realizing he’d been beaten. My heart wrenched with empathy as I watched him trudge up to the stage. He probably thought I was doing this just to humiliate him, but that was just a teeny part of it. Revenge for all the times he had belittled me when I was his secretary wasn’t why I was doing this. I knew if Johnny was willing to make a fool of himself in front of all these people, it would go a long way toward finally breaking the ice with my friends. His performing karaoke would show them he wasn’t the arrogant asshole he used to be. And what better way to prove he belonged in our group than to get up and bravely sing in front of a crowd?

  I made sure to catch Johnny’s eye as he stood on stage. I’m here, Johnny. Supporting you. I’m gonna be your biggest fan, even if you stink. He looked so nervous, that I had to stop myself from running up there to rescue him. No. He needed to do this. It would be scary, but he’d be proud of himself when he was done.

  The music began to play. It was “Take Me Home, Country Roads,” by John Denver. I didn’t know what I expected Johnny to pick, but I wouldn’t have guessed John Denver in a million years. As I gazed into Johnny’s eyes from across the room, I think I was more nervous than he was. I drew in a deep breath at the same time he drew in his before he began to sing.

  Johnny sang about West Virginia and Blue Ridge Mountains, and he absolutely took my breath away. He sounded like an angel. His voice—deep and male, yet soft and sexy—was the most beautiful, romantic sound I’d ever had the pleasure of hearing. Good thing I was sitting down, because my knees went weak.

  The way he gazed into my eyes from across the crowded room was like something out of a romance movie.

  Johnny never once broke eye contact with me during the song. I was dimly aware of people turning to see who Johnny was looking at as he sang. I felt honored to be singled out by someone as handsome and surprisingly talented as he was. I also realized that he didn’t need to look at the screen showing him the lyrics. I never would have guessed that the Johnny Creel liked old-fashioned folk music.

  Johnny finished his song, then hung his head modestly as the entire room burst into applause. I proudly watched several people congratulate him as he made his way back to his seat.

  Johnny had never looked sexier than he did right at that moment. The shirt that showed off his chest, and his adorable expression of modesty mixed with pride overwhelmed me with desire. I was falling harder for Johnny with each passing moment.

  Johnny had hugged me when I got offstage, so I decided to seize the opportunity to do the same. I threw my arms around him and held him tight.

  “Johnny, you were incredible. Incredible!”

  “Thanks,” he said as he held me in his strong arms. He rubbed my back gently as we embraced, and it felt like I was being held close by a lover, not a friend. I finally let go of him and sat back down at the table. Johnny moved his chair closer, facing me so we could talk.

  “That was amazing! How come you never told me you could sing?”

  “I dunno. I guess I wasn’t sure I was any good,” he said with a swoon-worthy shrug.

  “Well, you are,” Timothy said with a grin. “You’re damned good. In fact, that performance deserves a free beer.”

  Timothy made eye contact with Wendy, our server for the evening. She headed over to us, looking woefully overworked.

  “His next one’s on me. Put it on the tab for Timothy, please.”

  “Sure,” Wendy said. “I’ll bring it out as soon as I can.”

  “No rush,” Johnny said gently, looking concerned. Wendy seemed overwhelmed, nearly to the point of tears, and I loved that Johnny had noticed. And he cared.

  “You were terrific, Johnny. Really,” Erica said.

  I scanned my group of friends and saw nothing but smiles—even a grudging one from Ryan. Mission accomplished. Johnny had taken an important step toward fitting in with the people who meant the world to me. The old Johnny—the rich, entitled prick—would never have humbled himself like this. He truly was a changed man.

  So maybe it was okay that I was falling for him. Right?

  “Thanks,” Johnny said with a grateful smile. “I mean, I do like to sing. Always have. I just …”

  “What?” I asked, suddenly dying to learn as much as I could about him. I began to wish that I was alone with him, so maybe he would pour his heart out to me. And who knew what else might happen once I was alone with him? I felt my face flush as if Johnny might be able to read what was on my mind.

  “I dunno,” Johnny said sheepishly. “I sing in the car. Like, a lot. I love singer-songwriters, you know? John Denver is one of my all-time favorites. I also like Paul Simon, James Taylor; even groups like Peter, Paul, and Mary.”

  Johnny glanced up uncertainly, as though he was afraid I might make fun of him. I smiled and said gently, “I never would have guessed that about you.”

  “Yeah,” he said with a grin. “I don’t think anybody would. I never sang in front of anybody before today. I’m kinda glad you made me do it.”

  “Me too,” I told him. “You’re good, Johnny. Like, really good. And I’m not just saying that.”

  “Well, that’s high praise coming from somebody like you. I always kind of wanted to …” He trailed off a little uncertainly, then glanced around at the group. I wished he would pretend we were alone and say whatever was on his mind.

  “What? It’s okay. You can tell me.”

  “I know I can,” he said, gazing into my eyes.

  That’s it, I thought. Imagine it’s just you and me. Tell me your secrets.

  “I kinda always wanted to learn how to play acoustic guitar. You know, so I could sing along with it and maybe even, you know, write some of my own songs.” He suddenly looked afraid, like he thought I might burst out laughing. Instead, I wanted to swoon in his arms. He wanted to be a songwriter? Dear God, there was no hope for me now. He was handsome and strong, generous and kind, and now to find out he has the soul of an artist?

  “That’s wonderful, Johnny. You should do it! You shou
ld take guitar lessons!”

  “You think?” he asked, scrunching up his nose and looking so damned cute that I wanted to pinch those chiseled cheeks of his.

  “Yes! It wouldn’t even be that expensive. There’s lots of musicians right around here that give lessons and stuff. Wait here!” I jumped up from my seat and dashed over to the bulletin board near the front of the bar. Scanning the board, I saw a flyer advertising guitar lessons. Small paper tab in hand, I started to rush back to my seat, then told myself to slow the fuck down before I tripped in my heels and faceplanted right in front of Johnny.

  “Here,” I said, breathless, as I sat back down across from Johnny. “Guitar lessons. It won’t be anything fancy—I’m sure it’s some dude’s dirty apartment—but it’s a start.”

  Johnny took the tiny paper from me and stared at it for a moment, considering. “Thanks, Rosemary. Maybe I will call the guy. But I don’t have a guitar.”

  “That’s okay. I know you can get them pretty cheap at a used music store or on Craigslist. If you want something nicer, you can always rent one.”

  “You can do that?”

  I laughed. It was cute how clueless he was about what it was like to be broke. “Yes. You can do that.”

  “Cool,” Johnny said with a smile. “I always wanted to learn, but I didn’t dare tell anyone.”

  “Really? Why not?”

  “Oh, my God, my friends would have had a field day with that. Johnny Creel, the sensitive artiste. Oh, dear God,” he laughed and shook his head. “My parents made me learn an instrument, but my dad thinks acoustic guitar is hippie music. I studied the violin.”

  “You know how to play the violin?”

  Johnny nodded, laughing. “Sexy, right? What a fucking tool I am. But at least I know how to read music, so learning the guitar might not be too hard. I could learn how to play something for you.”

  “Oh, I would love that,” I said, looking admiringly into his eyes.

  After finally tearing my gaze away, I leaned back in my chair to take a sip of my drink. And I that’s when I realized everyone was staring at me. At us.

  I had been so absorbed in our conversation that I forgot everyone else was there. Susie smiled at me, Timothy raised an eyebrow, Erica gave me a knowing look, and Ryan glared at Johnny. It felt like I had a crowd witnessing my first date with Johnny. Not that we were dating, but that’s what it felt like.