Everything Unexpected

by Caroline Nolan

At first, I felt relieved, grateful even, that we were both able to agree nothing has to change. It may have taken a few days, but Leah seemed cool about it all. Too cool. Ready to act like nothing had even happened. She didn’t come over looking for any reassurances. Instead, she took control of the situation and guided me. Like she was the one who had to come over to reassure me. I didn’t even have to say a word. She didn’t need me to.

  We scratched an itch and now it’s gone.

  Those were her words.

  So why am I so uneasy about all of this? Why do I feel like there were things left unsaid? And why are Bryan’s words feeling like a punch to the gut?

  “A few weeks ago, you wouldn’t have blinked at Leah going on a date. Now listen to yourself… Man up!” Bryan nearly yells.

  “Who has a first date on Valentine’s day?” I argue, attempting to ignore the real reason this news is burning inside my stomach. Make it more about the timing of the date instead of the date itself.

  “That’s what I said! Any single guy out there with half a brain knows that is the one night you stay in. Promises of true love and commitment in your face all night? It does something to a woman’s ovaries. Images of white dresses and flowers and rings. Thanks, but no thanks,” he says.

  “Maybe Kendall, but Leah’s not like that,” I argue. I know she’s not.

  “All chicks are like that,” he reiterates. “Look, all I know is she has a date and she and Holly both think it’s the most romantic thing since The Notebook. So like I said to you already a hundred times this week, you need to put that night in the rearview. She obviously has.”

  I think about all the emails, texts and pictures I’ve been sending her over the last few weeks and they now leave a sour taste in my mouth. Trying so hard to make everything feel like it’s back to normal, but now I feel like the idiot who’s been trying too hard. Maybe Bryan’s right. That alone is a scary thought. Maybe I do need to get over whatever residual feelings I may have before it really starts to mess with my mind.

  “You know what you need to do,” Bryan begins. “You need to get your dick wet. Fuck that memory out of your system.”

  I roll my eyes.

  “I’m serious!” he states. “Do you know how many guys would kill to be you right now? Beautiful models walking around in barely-there underwear? You’ve got a beautiful half-naked buffet in front of you and you’re walking around limp-dicked thinking about some one-night stand.”

  “Hey,” I speak up. “Don’t talk about Leah like that.”

  “You know what I mean,” he relents. “But someone needs to kick your ass back into reality. And what better reality to wake up in than under a gorgeous model.”

  Noise from behind me redirects my attention. A few of the models have come out of wardrobe and are familiarizing themselves with the set that’s been arranged. It’s February but we are already prepping for a late summer campaign.

  I turn back to my computer screen. “I need to go. Duty calls.”

  Bryan tilts his head, trying to see past me. “Turn the screen a bit,” he says, looking to get a glimpse of the models in the background.

  “I’ll be back in two days,” I say standing, lowering my computer screen, disconnecting our call.

  “Just one look!” Bryan pleads. “Shane!” he yells once more before the sound of the program shutting down cuts him off.

  I walk towards the set where my station is all set up with my equipment. Cal flew in yesterday to help me with this job since we are in a bit of a time crunch. The space the client rented was only available for one day so that didn’t leave us much time to mess around. Everything needs to get finished today so I can spend all day tomorrow editing the shots.

  “All set?” I ask him as I approach.

  He nods while setting up some degrees of brightness for the lights on another laptop. “Should be. The cameras are all set up over there.” He cocks his head towards another table. I look over and see all my lenses and camera bodies laid out.

  “Good. We should get started. We only have a couple of hours.”

  “More than enough time,” Cal tells me.

  “Let’s hope.”

  I walk over to the table with my cameras and choose a lens for the first set of test shots when pink panties enter my line of sight. I’m quickly reminded of the last time I saw pink silk and of the woman who wore them. I blink, trying to rid myself of that memory as quickly as it came.

  “Shane?” a soft voice with an even softer accent speaks. I raise my eyes to the girl. Long, brown hair, deep brown eyes and an incredible tan that looks completely natural. I gather from the skin tone and accent she comes from a Brazilian or Colombian background. She’s thin like most models, her ribs and pelvic bone poking out just slightly. And, just like all models, she’s gorgeous.

  “Hi.” I offer my hand. She smiles, shaking it softly. Her hand is soft but chilled. Most likely from only being dressed in underwear.

  “I’m Natalia. One of the models.” She rolls her eyes, embarrassed. “Obviously.” She waves her hand over her body, quietly laughing. It sounds pleasant, just like her accent.

  “I just wanted to come and introduce myself. I’ve been looking forward to working with you.” A small smile teases her lips. It makes me smile back. It might be the first I’ve had in weeks.

  “That’s nice of you to say. I hope I can meet your expectations,” I say. Her eyes widen the smallest amount at my choice of words and it hits me how they might have sounded.

  “I’m sure you will.” She smirks before walking away.

  My eyes instinctively follow her as she walks back towards the set and the other girls. Her legs are long, shiny from whatever lotion the makeup artist used. Her ass is small but round. My eyes are still locked on it when she glances back over at me and catches me staring. She laughs a little before turning back.

  I’m well aware of the signals she’s giving and the ones I seem to be reciprocating. My immediate impulse is to feel guilty, like I’m doing something wrong. Then I remember I have nothing to feel wrong or guilty about. That much was made clear when Bryan told me of Leah’s date plans. Why shouldn’t I enjoy the attention? Why should I not give it back? It feels refreshing, actually. Normal.

  Get your dick wet. Fuck that memory away.

  Maybe that’s exactly what I need to put things back in perspective. Bryan’s right. Weeks ago I wouldn’t have even thought twice about Leah having a date. She’s never thought twice about me hooking up with a model. And if I’m trying so hard to get things to go back to normal like she already has, then this is exactly what I should be doing. What I need. What we need.

  I grab my camera and walk over to set. Hair and makeup are putting finishing touches on the girls. I lock eyes with Natalia while her plump lips are getting another coat of gloss put on them.

  Yes. This is exactly what I need.

  “You okay?” Cal asks, coming up beside me, his eyebrow raised.

  I look at him, confused. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

  He narrows his eyes. “You sure that’s the one you want?”

  I blink, confused by his question. Is he asking me if Natalia is the one I want? Compared to whom? I pull my head back a notch, wondering if Cal can read minds or something freaky like that.

  He points down to the camera in my hand. “You’ve got the wide angle on,” he says. “Is that the one you want? Or should I grab the 85mm?”

  I look down at the camera and stare at it for a moment. He’s right. I have the completely wrong lens on. I remove it from the camera and hand it over to him before he walks over to the table and fixes my mistake. This isn’t the first time that’s happened over the last two and half weeks. While in Australia, half a day’s shots were useless after I realized I had the camera on the wrong setting. That alone should have been an indicator of just how badly I need to get my head back on straight.

  But all that’s changing now. I’m resolving myself to the fact that if Leah can do it, so can I.

&n
bsp; Cal returns with the right lens and I quickly click it in place.

  “You good?” he questions, once more.

  “Yeah. I’m good,” I say with a new awareness. “Let’s get this started.”

  MANY HOURS AND wardrobe changes later, Cal and I are hovering over my computer screen looking at today’s images. The shots are good. Really good.

  “This one is my favorite,” Cal points to a lone shot of Natalia. I can’t disagree. She looks amazing in it. She’s lying down on a bed of rumpled sheets. She changed into a black corset and panty set with white accents. She’s stares up into the camera, lust and sex written all over her face. I can’t say it didn’t affect me a little, standing above her, her entire body filling my lens.

  It felt like every photo I took of her, we were having a silent conversation. She was hinting at her wants and I was hinting at mine. An agreement that if we were both up to it, we could have some simple fun—no strings attached.

  I obviously need a distraction, maybe she does too. Maybe her’s is as simple as not wanting to be alone on Valentine’s Day. As long as she’s good with this being nothing serious and just a bit of fun, why pass it up? Some entertainment that can jump start me back into regular life. Life before I had sex with Leah Kessel.

  The sounds of footsteps and laughter come from behind us. The girls are getting ready to leave but I notice Natalia hang back. I look back to Cal who is still skimming through shots on the laptop.

  “Pack up everything and put it in the van. I’ll meet you in a couple of hours,” I tell him, grabbing my jacket.

  He looks up at me, eyes narrowing. “Where are you going?”

  “I’ll see you in a couple of hours,” I repeat, walking away.

  “I’m supposed to pack all this up myself?” he calls out after me.

  I turn back and smile. “You’re the intern.”

  I hear him grumble a few words, looking around at all of our equipment. A small part of me does feel bad leaving him to do all the packing on his own, but it’s quickly forgotten when I meet Natalia near the exit of the studio.

  “Heading out?” I ask.

  Her lips form a knowing smile. “You too?”

  I lean in closer, raising an arm against the door frame. I watch her eyes skim my outstretched skin before making their way back to my face. She says nothing, waiting for the invite she knows is coming.

  “You want to get a drink? Celebrate a day well shot,” I ask, my lips curling into a grin.

  Her smile disappears as she leans in, closing the gap between us. “I think we can celebrate in another way,” she says slowly in my ear.

  I lean back a little in order to get a better look at her before I nod once, opening the door.

  “After you.”

  I’M SITTING ON my couch watching the game. Or at least trying to watch but failing miserably. As soon as my flight from New York landed, I had a text waiting from Leah asking if she could come over tonight. I immediately replied, letting her know to come over whenever she wanted. That was four hours ago. I’ve been sitting and waiting for her since.

  Throughout my trip, there was a distance between us that had nothing to do with me being across the world. It was strange. Uncomfortable. I’m hoping that with this visit we can put the distance behind us. Maybe she’ll tell me about her date and maybe I’ll tell her about Natalia. We’ll talk, just like we used to. It will be just like it was, like I promised it would stay all those weeks ago.

  If there is one thing these weeks have told me, it’s that Leah Kessel means more to me than almost anyone, and I will do anything to make sure she stays that way. I miss the way we were before my birthday. As incredible as that night was, if that means I need to forget about a few hours in our past in order to have many years in our future, I’ll do it.

  When the knock at the door finally comes, I jump and am opening it too quickly to come off as casual. But I don’t care. I’ve missed this girl, and I know seeing her will immediately put me at ease.

  “You’re exactly what I needed to feel home,” I say smiling, opening the door wide.

  Her smile, on the other hand, barely makes a dent in her cheeks. She brushes her hair behind her ear, a telltale sign she’s nervous. “Hey.”

  And that’s all she says.

  No “I missed you too” or “I’m so glad you’re home.” She shifts from one high heeled shoe to the other. She must have come straight from work because she’s dressed in a form fitting gray skirt and a cream blouse. Not the usual shorts and t-shirt I’m used to seeing her in. She’s rubbing her palms up and down her thighs, not even noticing the repetitive behavior. She also hasn’t been able to look me in the eye for longer than a fleeting glance.

  This is not exactly what I was expecting.

  I open the door wider, inviting her in. She makes her way slowly to the center of the room, her purse dropping from her shoulder and falling to the chair.

  “You want a beer?” I ask.

  Her face lights up for a brief second at the offer before pressing her lips together and shaking her head. “Water?

  “Sure.”

  I grab a bottle from the fridge and walk over to her. She still hasn’t taken a seat. Offering her the bottle, she accepts it but barely smiles. Turning to the sofa and falling into it, I thought she’d follow suit but she continues to stand, now tapping her fingers against the bottle.

  Everything about this feels wrong. She seems so uncomfortable and unsure of herself. I’ve never seen her act this way, not even the night before I left for my trip—and those circumstances were way more awkward.

  “You want to sit?” I offer.

  “Where’s Bryan?” she asks.

  I raise my brows at her question, surprised. “He went to Kendall’s.”

  Now it’s her turn to look surprised.

  “Don’t ask. I’ve long given up figuring those two out.”

  She nods but seems even more nervous now knowing we’re alone. Was she hoping he’d be here so she wouldn’t have to be alone with me? God, I hope not. Or maybe she was hoping he wouldn’t be here, give us more privacy. But for what?

  “You’re making me fucking nervous,” I tell her, sitting up straight. “Would you sit down?”

  She looks over at me and holds my stare. This is the longest she’s looked at me without glancing away.

  “Could we…go to your room?” she asks, almost shyly.

  Those words throw me for a loop. First she won’t look me in the eye and now she wants to go to my bedroom? She is completely kicking me off balance. I don’t understand what—

  Then a thought hits me.

  Is it possible she’s looking to…go at it again?

  My mind takes off with thoughts, most of which are why this would be a bad idea. After the first and only time, it took days before she’d even talk to me. The thought of us maybe having sex only to be followed by silence is not something I want to go through again. Then I remember how we were that night. How in sync we were. How amazing it was.

  Speculation that her Valentine’s Day date must not have gone well makes a brief appearance in my mind. Mine with Natalia, on the other hand, was very simple. We didn’t even go out for that drink. We went back to her box sized apartment and did exactly what we knew we’d do. But I quickly push those thoughts aside, not wanting to think about them right now.

  I look at Leah and see how vulnerable she seems. How nervous she looks, waiting for me to respond. But I also notice how beautiful she looks, how sexy she is in her work clothes, and I know my decision is made.

  I stand and walk towards the bedroom, Leah following right behind.

  I slowly close the bedroom door and watch her as she briefly glances at the bed.

  I take a step forward but she takes an equal step back, stopping me from moving closer.

  “Maybe you should sit down,” she says, her tone serious.

  Confused, I stay put. “I thought—”

  “Please,” she says quietly.

&nb
sp; The soft pleading tone of her voice make my feet move and I sit at the edge of the bed, watching her as she begins to pace the room.

  “Comb—” I start but am interrupted right away.

  “While you were gone, something happened. It actually happened before you left but I only found out about it later. I would have told you sooner but it was a shock. A big one. Not one I ever saw coming and am positive not one you saw coming, but it’s here and I need to figure it out. We need to figure it out. This wasn’t something I wanted to tell you over the phone or through text, so I’ve just been waiting for you to come home. Waiting for days for you to come home. I don’t know what I’m going to do—what we should do—but we need to do something. Because time is ticking.”

  Her words and her pacing aren’t making any sense to me. “Time?”

  She stops midstride, turns and looks at me. I watch as she grabs her purse from the bed, not even noticing her bringing it in. She opens the flap, reaching inside and pulls something out. Pulls several things out and places them on the bed beside me.

  I’ve seen these before. In television commercials or in a store because they are always beside the condoms. But I’ve never seen them this close. Or out of their boxes. And never with small positive pink lines marked on them. Even though I know what these are and I know what those pink lines mean, I can’t put together what she’s trying to tell me.

  I look up at her and see her eyes darting from me to those sticks over and over, terrified. I want to ask her of what. The white plastic sticks? The pink lines? Me?

  “Say something, please,” she whispers.

  I blink a few times and look back down at the sticks. Understanding of what she’s saying begins to creep in, but I must be in shock or denial because the only thing that comes to mind is she peed on those sticks and they are now on my bed.

  Gross.

  I hear a sharp intake of breath and realize I must have said that last bit out loud. I look back up and see her eyes begin to glisten with unshed tears.

  Shit.

  She hastily picks the sticks up off the bed, shoving them back into her purse, clearly upset at my choice of words—word. I reach out and place my hands on top of hers, stopping her from grabbing more sticks.