His eyes met mine. "Seriously. Do you want to?"
"Yeah, yeah, of course." I tried not to sound too eager. "When do you want to go on a date?" My voice rose in pitch on that last word. Keep cool, Laila!
"Now."
I blinked. "Now?"
"Right now."
Holy crackers. "Oh. Okay. Um, I'll be right out."
I shut the door in his face, then I covered my face with my hands as I hyperventilated.
What was I going to do? At least Andrea had had some notice before she went on her date!
I put on a fresh pair of panties, and I put on a pretty dress. There wasn't even time to put on more makeup than a tiny bit of lip gloss and mascara.
"I'm ready," I said, opening the door.
"You look nice," he told me, his eyes scanning my body. "Is that a different outfit?"
"Yeah, it is." I wrapped my arms around my body, feeling completely self conscious.
"I like it." He held my hand, and we walked down to his motorcycle holding hands like a couple.
My mom had thrown a complete fit when Trouble and Chris came home with a pair of matching Harley-Davidsons. She said that no son of hers would ever ride a donorcycle. It took Dad a full week to convince her to let the boys keep them. The compromise was that both of the boys had two helmets and all the safety gear you could imagine for motorcyclists. Trouble had a badass leather jacket that was custom tailored, because his shoulders were so wide.
"Here," he said. "Put on my extra helmet." I put it on. It was so big and clunky, but it felt very safe.
He got on and turned on the motor. I straddled his back, sitting on the seat behind him. I leaned against his hard back, loving the rich scent of the leather.
He pulled his motorcycle onto the road. The wind whipped past us and the road disappeared under our wheels. I had never felt so completely free. Trouble was more daring than I was, and I felt like he was shaking me out of my normal rut. I loved feeling the vibration of the motor coming through my body and his. It felt like we were connected at a cosmic level, like we were two tuning forks resonating at the same pitch. Being on his bike and wrapping my body around his felt better than my vibrator. My new panties were already getting soaked.
We ended up at the AMC near campus. "I already have our tickets." We went straight to the adolescent who was taking tickets, and he scanned Trouble's tickets.
"What are we seeing?"
"The newest James Bond."
For him, I'd watch anything.
Trouble bought a large popcorn. He took it to the butter station and just slathered butter all over it. The entire top was pure butter.
"Oh my god. Do you want to have some popcorn with your butter? Jeez. Why aren't you a thousand pounds?"
He slapped his abs. "Swimming. Come on."
We sat down in the theater. Because it wasn't night yet and a weekday, there weren't very many people. Trouble took us to the center, where the best seats were. I pushed the drink holder between us up, and I leaned against his shoulder. I felt his body go a little stiff, but when I didn't do any more, he relaxed. He put his arm around my shoulder lightly, as if I were a soap bubble that might pop if he touched me too roughly.
We ate popcorn. I watched the gunfights, explosions, and fire on the screen. Guys got on girls for liking soppy rom-coms, but James Bond movies were all about wish fulfillment for guys, too. Lee Goldberg, a best-selling author and the creator of Monk, said that action and adventure stories were Harlequins for men, and I agreed. The main difference was that there were plenty of women who were willing to watch one.
I was quiet during the movie, only stopping to throw popcorn at the screen. I did not know why people liked these movies so much. Sometimes, I liked Bruce Willis movies. However, I highly preferred romantic comedies.
His arm felt warm and solid around me. I melted a little bit inside. I knew that I was pretending, but I did not care. I would take what I could get.
We watch the movie, and I thought that this was the best movie ever. Not because of the plot, but because he was holding me the entire time.
When the movie was over, we stayed even though everybody left. At the end of the credits, there was an extra bonus scene.
We watched it in silence.
"Are you ready to go?"
Our popcorn bucket was empty, and he threw it out at the trashcan at the door.
As we walked outside, I was dazzled by the bright sunshine.
"Where are we going now?"
"We are going to my favorite Korean restaurant."
14
Restaurant
Laila
"What is it called?"
He rubbed his nose. “It is called Gen. It’s great.“
We got on his motorcycle, putting on our helmets, and I enjoyed the ride. It was over too soon. We went into the Korean restaurant. It was packed to the gills, with the line going out the door. There were dozens of people waiting.
However, Trouble knew the host. Instead of waiting in line, we were directed to a table. It had a reserved sign on it, but the host took it away. He gave us menus and bowed as he left us.
"I am not an expert on Korean food," I said.
"That is okay." Trouble did not even open his menu."I know what we want."
I normally liked to order my own food, but there was something nice about letting someone else order for me, especially when I did not know what I liked here.
When our waiter came, Trouble immediately rattled off a list of numbers. The waiter gave us ice water, and then he went to the kitchen to put in our order.
When the food came, someone turned on the grill. It was amazing to grill at our table. Trouble was an expert with the cooking tongs.
"When did you learn to eat Korean food?"
"Do you remember Anna Park?"
"That Korean girl that you dated for a week?"
"Yes. We did not last long, but she did give me a taste for Korean food."
"To be fair, no girl lasted long with you." I did not like thinking about it. "Why am I different?"
"You just are."
I stuffed my face with meat. Trouble ate 3 times as much as I did, and he still ordered more.
"I am tapping out. I cannot eat another bite."
"That's okay. I can eat the rest."
He did eat the rest. Our plates were completely clean by the time that someone came to the change out our grill. The waiter came back.
"Is there anything else I can get for you?"
“No, I think that we are done."
Trouble handed him a hundred dollar bill. He and I got our stuff and went to leave.
On the motorcycle ride back to my dorm, I could feel extra tension in his back. I knew what he did on normal dates. I did not know if I was ready for that.
When we got there, he turned off his motorcycle. I felt apprehensive. Was this the night that I was going to lose my virginity?
He took me to my door, and he looked uncomfortable.
I looked up. ”Well, I guess that I should thank you for a good night."
Instead of saying goodbye, his mouth crashed down on mine. Though I was initially shocked, I responded quickly. He explored my mouth with his expert tongue, and I felt pleasure that I have never felt before. I had never been kissed like this.
When we were both gasping for air, he stopped. I panted, trying to get my breath back.
"Bye."
I watched him walk away from me. He went out the door, and a little while later I could hear his motorcycle. He drove it across the street.
I had no idea what was going on with him. However, it was my first date. I knew that it was a very good one. I felt all happy and glowy inside. But I was also very confused. I knew that his normal modus operandi was nothing like the chaste, no-sex ending that we had just had.
I looked in the mirror. I looked nothing like those perfect sorority girls, with their long blonde hair and blue eyes and their super-long legs up to their armpits. Maybe I just was too
ugly and gross to attract a guy like him.
I’d just had my first date, and it was a pity date. I sat on my bed, staring at the wall and trying not to cry. Crying never solved anything.
Five minutes later, my phone rang. Trouble was calling me.
"Yes? Did you forget something?" Like taking my virginity. Or maybe telling me that I’m ugly.
"Do you want to go on another date tomorrow?"
I felt myself soaring. Trouble rarely went on multiple dates with one woman, let alone on consecutive days.
"Okay."
"I will see you at 6 PM."
15
Coffee
Laila
I woke up when Andrea came back.
"I wondered when you would be back. We have an 8 o'clock class, you know."
"I know. That's why I'm back. Otherwise, I would be spending my day making sweet love to David."
“Too much information."
She stripped out of last night's dress, and she put on jeans and a crop top.
"Let's go."
We stopped at the Starbucks near our class before we went there. She needed it. I could see from the dark circles under her eyes that she had not slept last night.
While we were waiting in a long line, I asked her, "How was it?"
"It was wonderful." Andrea was bashful right now, playing with her hair.
"Come on, I want details. If you give me details, I will tell you all about my date last night."
"What? You had a date last night, too?"
I raised my eyebrows, because I had juicy gossip for once.
She tugged on my arm. "Spill."
“You have to go first."
“Okay, but then you have to tell me everything." She shook out her hair. “So, he picked me up, then we went to the Philharmonic, then I slept over at his place. Done. Now you."
"Hold up." I shook my head. "That's a complete cop out. More details, please."
"Well, when we went to his place, David taught me this thing with his tongue..."
"Ew! Ok, no. I'll tell you what went on last night." I took a breath, and we stepped forward another spot in line. "Trouble asked me out last night."
"Last night? And you went on a date on the same night?"
I nodded.
"Girl, he must really like you."
"You think?" I touched the back of my neck.
"I know! That's awesome. Wait a minute. I wasn't there. Did you have to get ready all by yourself?"
"He gave me like a half second of notice before we went on our date."
"Oh my gosh, seriously?"
"Yeah, and I also probably had helmet hair. Gross."
"What? Why were you wearing a helmet? Did he take you on a tandem bike on the beach or something?"
"No. He has a motorcycle."
Her eyes got huge. "You went on a motorcycle ride? Dang, girl, I had no idea you were such a hardass."
The person in front of her turned around to look at me.
"Shh," I chided. "Seriously, just shut up."
"Did you pop your cherry?" she said even louder.
I wanted to melt through the floor.
"No. There was no cherry popping."
People stopped staring at us.
"My gosh, could you BE more embarrassing?"
"You better tell me the whole thing tonight, or I will embarrass you later!"
We were finally at the front of the line, and we ordered two Frappuccinos.
I looked down at my cellphone. "Ugh. We're going to be late if this takes more than 3 minutes."
"Chill out. Our professor doesn't even care. He comes in late half the time."
"Yeah, because the class is at the asscrack of dawn."
"Girl, I've been up at dawn. Well, so have you. This is not the asscrack of dawn. It's more like the shining smile of dawn."
"Whatever." She covered a yawn with her hand.
They called our names, and we got our Fraps. I practically sprinted to class, leaving her a few steps behind me.
I got to a desk. Only half of the class was there. Andrea strolled in, nonchalantly sipping at her Frap. I started sucking mine down. I needed both the sugar and caffeine to make it through this class.
I got a text from Trouble.
Are we still on for 6?
Yes
Good
The teacher came in, finally. We started class, and I put my phone away in my backpack. I wanted to keep talking to Trouble, but I also needed to pay attention. Good thing my phone was on silent, or I would've been trying to check it all through class.
16
Prep
Laila
When class was over, I pulled out my phone. There wasn't anything from Trouble. I felt a horrible feeling in the pit of my stomach. Did he not like my curt response?
I blinked. Maybe he was in class like I was. I didn't know.
Andrea and I walked out together to grab some lunch. Yes, it was early in the morning, but we needed more food. Andrea was practically dead on her feet.
"Let's get Chipotle."
"Okay." She yawned.
We both got burrito bowls with fajita vegetables and sofritas. Sofritas just tasted like chunky tomato sauce, honestly, but in LA, there was an absolute vegan craze. I was a weekday vegan, getting my protein from tofu, lentils, beans, and Beyond Meat. On weekends, I ate steak, burgers, chicken, fish, everything. It had led to a surprising amount of weight loss, which is why I kept up with it, even though I had cravings for chicken pretty much every weekday.
Andrea was more genuinely vegan. She worried about helpless little animals, a concern that I did not share.
When I was little, we went to Mexico. We went to a farm to table place. Dad had to walk around a yard full of chickens and choose one. As soon as he pointed, the farmer/restaurateur immediately picked up the chicken and snapped its neck in a Mexican towel snap.
I cried. As an American, I was highly insulated from death. Meat came in plastic-wrapped containers from the grocery store, not living beings.
Dad made me eat the chicken anyway.
"You might as well learn about death someday, sweetheart."
I ate that poor, defenseless bird with tears running down my face. But it had desensitized me to the idea of animals being killed for my consumption.
Andrea had a text conversation with David all through lunch. I scrolled around my Feedly, reading all the news stories.
We went to our literature class, and Trouble still didn't text me.
We got home, and I was an anxious bundle of nerves. I took a shower and tried to relax.
I came out of the shower wrapped in a towel. If Andrea was going to flash me, I could walk around in a towel.
"What should I wear?"
"Hmm..." Andrea got up from her laptop, where she was doing her essay, and she went to my closet. "Honey, you barely have anything to choose from."
"I know. That's why I've been stealing from your closet. By the way, give me the dress you were wearing last night. I'll get your dresses dry cleaned. Thanks for lending it to me."
"Anytime, sugar, especially if you're going to take care of the dry cleaning." She tossed her hair over her shoulder. "Now, what should you wear today? How about this?"
She pulled out a sequined red dress.
"Um, I don't think that's me. That's more you." That dress screamed 'seductress' while I wanted to whisper 'hello.'
"Okay, how about this?" It was a strapless turquoise bandage dress.
"Honey, I can't pull that off. I have way more curves than you do."
She looked at my boobs. "Hm. Ok." She rummaged around in her closet a little more. "I got it. You can't turn this one down."
She pulled out a turquoise dress with criss-crossed straps. While it was pretty, it didn't scream 'harlot' like the other dresses. I nodded. She put it over my chair.
I put on a robe and underwear and tried to concentrate on my own essay. I got my first draft done, but I was sure that it was garbage. I was thinkin
g about Trouble the whole time. I knew that he had to like me, if he was going through the effort to take me on dates without having sex with me. I didn't know why, though. I was obviously willing to sleep with him, but when I slept in his bed, the only thing we did was sleep. I don't think he even kissed me, though, granted, my memory of that night was not perfect.
I had just gotten started on my multivariate calculus homework when my phone buzzed.
Can I come earlier?
I checked the clock. It was 5.
Of course
I heard the roar of a motorcycle as Trouble crossed the street.
I threw on the turquoise dress.
"Zip me up."
"Leaving already?" Andrea arched a brow.
"Yup. Don't wait up tonight." I winked.
"Get it!"
17
Museum
Laila
I walked down the stairs quickly in my black wedges, and I went out to his motorcycle. A dress and wedges weren't the perfect choice, but I'd make it work.
"Hey," he said. He pulled out his helmet. "Let's go."
I put on the helmet. I had thought ahead this time and had a ponytail holder. The first time that I put the helmet on, it smushed my pony uncomfortably. I had to redo my ponytail so that it was at the base of my neck.
When I was done, I got on his bike and held on. I liked holding him in my arms and smelling his unique, spicy scent. I didn't even ask where we were going this time. I just hung on and enjoyed the ride. Something about Trouble made me throw my cares and planning to the wind.
He parked his motorcycle outside of the Getty.
"Oh my gosh, I love the Getty."
"My dad always donates a ton of money here. I have some access."
I blinked. "Like what kind of access?"
He just grinned. "You'll see."
He put his hand around my waist and pulled me into the museum.
Inside, there was a docent.
"Hello, Mr. McKane. Miss. I'll be your guide today."
Trouble: A BWWM Bad-Boy Billionaire Romance Page 4