Exposed: An Anthology

by Brooke Cumberland

  I haven’t spoken to Eric since Saturday night, so I was hoping things wouldn’t be awkward between us now. I wanted us to be friends. I needed him to be my friend.

  “Good mornin’, sweetheart.” His southern tone captures me as I stretch on the pavement. He stands there in front of me, shirtless. Damn, he’s doing that on purpose.

  “Good morning,” I say, clearing the rust from my voice. Boston is chilly in the morning, yet here he was—shirtless and stunning.

  His smile reassures me he’s in a good mood today. Perhaps this was a sign there would be no awkward tension between us. I had spoken to Alex on the phone yesterday and my feelings were reassured about how I felt about him. He was amazing to say the least. I opened the bar Sunday morning at eleven, and by noon he arrived with lunch.

  “Well, aren’t you sweet,” I said, smiling as he raised a bag up for me to see.

  “Just wanted to make sure my girl was well fed around all these drunks.” It was game day, which meant lots of drunks.

  “Thank you.” I grabbed the bag from his hand and opened it up to see a bagel sandwich and a small bag of chips. He continued to sit with me and watched the game as I handed out beer bottles and poured shots. His eyes wandered between the game and me for the next few hours. The way he watched me sent tingles from my stomach to my thighs. His hefty smile is so darn charming, I almost wanted to jump over the bar and climb into his arms.

  “Ready?” he asks, offering me his hand to pull me up. I simply nod, not at all prepared to stare at his amazing toned muscles. I decide I need to run in front of him, or at least next to him. But I definitely can’t run behind him. The way his shorts hug his butt is just too much for me.

  We start with an easy pace, letting the wind blow into us. I start to huff as he increases his pace, making me increase mine as well. I can see that he’s pushing me, which is exactly what I need. I need to run off my frustrations, my past, and my built up anger. Running erases it all, even if just for a little while, but it certainly helps.

  “Doing okay?” He looks over and all I can do is nod. My breathing is quick, and I’m dripping with sweat. “We can break,” he suggests. I nod again, relieved.

  “So how’s work going?” I ask vaguely as we slow to walk.

  “Great. Been working out a lot to pass the time when we don’t get calls.” I can tell. “How’s the bar?”

  “Oh, ya know, the usual. Drunk men and sports.” He huffs a laugh as we round the next street toward our building.

  We continue walking in silence and my mind is boggled with thoughts of him. It takes all my energy to not wrap my arms around him and take his mouth in mine. That would confuse the tartar sauce out of him. And me.

  I trip on a crack in the sidewalk and I’m so deep in my thoughts I don’t even react in putting my hands out in front of me. Eric quickly catches me, but my body continues to fall making me land right on top of him. His body lays flat on the sidewalk with my legs straddling over him as his body acts as a human shield.

  “Oh god, I’m so sorry!” I bury my head in his chest, embarrassed as I keep falling around him, literally.

  “You can crash into me any day of the week, sweetheart.” Clearly, he’s enjoying this. He stares at me intently, not willing to make me move off him. Part of me contemplates leaning in, but the reality part of me tells me to get a grip.

  I push my hands against his chest as I stable myself to my feet. I hold my hand out to pull him up, but instead he grabs my hand forcefully pulling me down to him once again.

  “Eric,” I breathe. “What are you doing?” I’m curled up next to his side, his arms wrapped around me. It feels so safe, so right.

  “I’m just securin’ you. It’s not my fault you keep falling head over heels around me.” He chuckles, tilting his head more toward mine as I see the amusement in his eyes.

  “Very funny. There was a crack in the sidewalk. Tell your ego down boy,” I tease, pushing against him once again. “You can get yourself up this time. I don’t trust you,” I pout, teasing him.

  “You don’t trust me?” he asks, pretending to be offended by clenching his hand to his chest. I roll my eyes at his awful attempt to look hurt.

  “Come on, Sally. I’ll race ya.” I take off for the building before I finish, not letting him catch up to me. I sprint the next block and don’t turn around to see where he is.

  I slam my hands into the building, trying to even my breathing as Eric slams right into my back. “You’re a cheater,” he whispers against my ear, closing the gap between us. His palms are flat against the wall next to mine, making me feel that spark he’s always talking about. I can’t help but enjoy the way his body feels against mine. His sweaty chest rubs against me, making me inhale the sweet scent of his body wash and shampoo. “Next time, I might not be so willing to let you win,” he whispers again, rubbing his lips against the outside of my ear. A shiver ripples through me as his hands lower, rubbing up and down my arms.

  I’m about to say to hell with it, turn around and wrap my arms around his neck before he steps away and walks toward the entrance. Damn him. How was he capable of making me react to him like this?

  I begin to walk behind him and toward the elevator. I see him walk in the other direction and before I can ask where he’s going, I notice he takes the stairs up to his floor. I wonder if it was something I did, but I’m not about to question anything right now. I need to get my head on straight. Get it together, Velaney.

  I take a shower and get ready for my workday at the University. I think about Eric as I blow dry my hair, wondering if I’m going to be able to keep running with him if this keeps up. Today was only the first day—look what already happened.

  My head is a cluster mess the entire day at work. Images of Eric pop in and out of my mind at the reminder of how his body feels against mine. The way his eyes pierce through mine as he says something serious. I shake them out of my head, not wanting to think of him, but it’s too late. My hands are sweaty and I can feel the tingle between my thighs once again at just the mere thought of him.

  Ugh. His body and eyes scream sex. Ooze sex. Sex, sex, and lots of it. I could never be that for him. Hell, I can’t even kiss him without freaking out. I’m surprised he even talks to me after the way I treated him after our kiss. God, that kiss. Amazing. Why had I freaked out at that word? I’ve heard it hundreds of times. Jake knew to stop saying it after a half dozen panic attacks. I never told him why, but after awhile he figured it out, and it was because of that word.

  I turn my mind to Alex instead. He was safe. He wouldn’t expect anything from me. He was sweet, kind, caring, and sensitive. Isn’t that what girls look for in a man? Hell if I know…but he was the safe bet. He wouldn’t expect anything from me; therefore, he wouldn’t get hurt by me. And hopefully I wouldn’t get hurt either.

  I like Eric, it’s no secret, but it was the way my body responded to him. He had experience, which was obvious. But it would turn him off the second he knew about my past and lack of experience. God, I’m a mess.

  “Velaney, are you with me?” Coach interrupts my mental argument.

  “Yeah, sorry. What’s up?” I look up at him as he stands in front of my desk.

  “I need you at the game this Friday. It’s a big one, and I have a bad feeling my boys aren’t going down lightly. In fact, I know they won’t, so I need you there for when that happens.”

  “Absolutely, Coach.” I nod back at him. The hockey team had many rivals, but Friday they were against their biggest rival of the whole season. I had no doubt those boys would be smashing heads against the glass and whacking their sticks in each other’s faces.

  The sound of my cell chiming brings me back. I see it’s Alex and smile as I swipe the screen to unlock.

  Alex: I haven’t stopped thinking about you. When can I see you again?

  Me: That depends. Are you asking me out again?

  Alex: Yes. Go out with me this weekend?

  Me: Saturday night?

&n
bsp; Me: Sounds perfect. See you then, Velaney.

  I lock my phone again and smile at the thought of seeing Alex again. I have to work so much this week that it will definitely be something to look forward to.

  “Have a good night, sweetie,” Coach says popping his head into my office. I leave work early tonight since Carissa and I have tickets to go see Wicked at the opera house. I wave goodbye and start collecting my paperwork together to head out.

  I walk into the apartment building and spot Carissa collecting our mail. She has a sad look on her face as she turns to face me.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “My grandma’s in the hospital. I can’t go with you tonight.” She finishes collecting the mail from the tiny hole and slams it shut.

  “Oh no. That sucks. Is she going to be all right?” I ask.

  “Yeah, she is just having blood pressure issues, but my mom wants me to go with her. She’s pretty upset.”

  “I understand, Riss. I’m just bummed I’m going to miss the play. We have good tickets, too,” I say as we walk toward the elevator.

  She snaps her head to me with a confused look. “You can still go, Lane! I’d feel horrible if you miss because of me.”

  “I’m not going alone,” I mutter as the elevator door opens. Eric is standing there, making my body react to him immediately. I feel the unwanted blush rise in my cheeks as he smiles at me.

  “Perfect!” Carissa squeals. “Eric can go with you!”

  “Um, no,” I mumble, hoping he doesn’t hear me.

  “Eric can go where?” Eric asks in the third person, confused why he’s being talked about.

  “I have to bail on Lane tonight. We’re supposed to go see Wicked tonight, but I can’t go. I don’t want her to miss out just because of me,” Carissa explains, giving Eric her best sympathetic look. I cross my arms and shake my head as she basically begs Eric to go with me.

  Before Eric can respond I interrupt, “Riss, I’m sure he has better things to do.” I lean up against the elevator wall as it takes off to the fifth floor. Wasn’t he getting off at the lobby?

  “I’d love to go,” he quickly chimes in, making the heat rise back up to my cheeks.

  “Perfect! Then it’s settled,” Carissa squeals, overcome with joy. Great.

  After this mornings run, I’m not sure how much more Eric I can handle. Rather, I don’t know how much more of Eric my body can handle. One minute he’s so close it’s almost intimate, and the next he’s so cold, it’s like standing next to ice.

  Eric smiles at me as we reach the fifth floor. Before exiting he says, “What time should I pick you up?”

  Before I can answer, Carissa interrupts, “Six! Don’t be late.” She gives him a wink and leads me through the doors.

  “What the hell was that?” I ask as soon as the elevator door closes. Carissa grins as we walk back to our apartment.

  “I did you a favor. You can thank me later.”

  Kill me. Kill me now, please.

  I hear a knock on my door promptly at six o’clock. I make sure to take extra time answering as I am secretly enjoying this moment. Two can play this game.

  I wear my sexiest black dress with red peep-toe heels. I leave my hair down and curl just the ends. Carissa does my make-up with smoky dark eyes and bright red lips.

  “You look fuckin’ hot, Lane. If I were gay, I’d do you.” Carissa laughs as she gets a full view of me just before she leaves for the night.

  “You don’t think it’s too much?” I ask as I take another look in the mirror. Eric has been driving me insane for weeks and now I was going to do the same to him.

  “Hell no. It’s perfect.”

  I slowly open the door and get a full view of Eric in his sleek black suit coat and black pants. He’s wearing a dark silk blue shirt underneath and a white tie. It’s hot…so frigging hot.

  I swallow.

  Keep it together.

  “Wow, Velaney.” His eyes gloss over, looking me over—head to toe. “You look incredible.”

  Just the way his lips curl at the way he says my name makes me regret this whole night. How in the world does he make my name sound like that…damn his southern accent.

  “Thanks,” I say, smiling up at him. “You look nice, too.” No way I’m admitting how frigging delicious he looks.

  He smirks, sensing my irritability with the whole situation. He reaches for my hand as I close the apartment door. Without thinking, my hand falls perfectly in his.

  I can’t help but inhale his perfect musky blend of cologne and aftershave. He’s stunning, smells amazing, and curls his fingers perfectly around mine. I’m doomed.

  We arrive at the opera house in plenty of time to grab drinks before we have to be seated. I order a white wine, and graciously thank Eric for it. I don’t want this to seem like a date…because it most certainly is not.

  “Thanks for coming with me tonight, by the way,” I force out, finally admitting to myself that I’m grateful he’s here with me. He stands close to me as we reach a tall bar table.

  “It’s my pleasure, Velaney. What man wouldn’t want to come here with you?”

  “You know we’re seeing Wicked, right? Like full on musical mode?” I ask, taking a sip of my drink.

  “Hmm…that I didn’t know. I’m sure it’ll be…interesting. On the bright side, it’s a funny story to tell our kids about our first date.” He smiles down at me, making my whole body shiver at just the mere look of him.

  “This is not a date,” I remind him.

  “We’ll see,” is all he says as we walk through the doors and find our seats up front. Carissa was right, because these are great seats. The view is perfect of the entire stage.

  We take our seats and Eric’s arm automatically goes around my shoulders. The gesture makes the hair on the back of my neck stand up. He’s so close, smells so damn delicious, yet he’s so far away. My mind is one big cluster fudge of mixed emotions.

  “I may as well hand over my man-card right now,” he whispers into my ear, grinning.

  “No one made you come, you know. You could’ve said no,” I remind him.

  “And miss the opportunity to have you all to myself for three solid hours? Hell, no. I jumped at the chance.” He wags his eyebrows, teasing the living hell out of me. God, I’m so screwed.

  “Oh, I just love being one of your bimbos for you to parade around,” I snicker, glaring back at him.

  “I resent that. I’d never call you ‘one of my bimbo’s.’”

  “And why’s that?” I ask, crossing my arms thoroughly curious as to where this will go.

  “Because I don’t plan to sleep with you,” he whispers in my ear. It takes all the willpower I have to resist leaning in and crashing my lips to his.

  “Does that line work on all the girls?”

  “I don’t have ‘lines,’ Velaney. I don’t need them.” He smirks, backing up to lean against his seat.

  “You are such an arrogant douche.”

  “That one I’ve heard.” He grins, cocking a wide grin.

  “Who says you’d have a chance to sleep with me anyway?”

  “Oh, sweetheart. Give a man some credit.”

  Ugh, I hate him.

  Okay, no I don’t. Dammit.

  Before I can respond to his cocky remark, music begins to fill the air and the lights dim.

  I decide to take the opportunity and lean into him. “No getting grabby now that the lights are off.” I lean back into my seat, smiling.

  “No promises.” He leans all the way in, brushing his wet lips across my ear. A shiver ripples through me at just the mere touch of him.

  The musical begins, and I completely forget about being nervous around Eric. The play is simply amazing. Eric and I end up laughing together, and looking back and forth at each other. Every so often, he squeezes my shoulder with his hand that stays wrapped around me. Part of me is glad Carissa couldn’t make it, but the other part knows I’m setting myself up for disappointment later on.

/>   As a scene ends, the curtains close for intermission. As he removes his arm, he graces his hand slowly across my back as if he’s hesitant to remove it at all. I grab my clutch and stand, expecting Eric to do the same.

  “Excuse me…”

  “Where are you goin’?” he asks, making a pouty face.

  “To use the restroom, if that’s all right with you?”

  “Sure. But I’m not movin’.” He crosses his arms as if it’s some kind of challenge.

  “Fine.” I turn my body to the side, facing him and straddle his legs. “You asked for it,” I remind him, as his eyes grow big.

  I lift myself off his legs and finally reach the other side of him toward the open walking path. That most definitely wasn’t easy to do in a dress and heels, but it was worth it to see his priceless expression.

  By the time I get back to my seat, Eric is still sitting there except his legs are stretched outward. I can tell by his stupid cheesy grin that he thinks he’s so damn smart.

  Without saying a word, I gracefully step over his leg and begin to step over his other one before he pushes me down on his lap, fully straddling him.

  “Stop! What are you doing?” I try to push my body off, but his strong hands are holding me down on my hips.

  “If you intend to straddle me in public, I’m not responsible for what I might do.”

  “I wasn’t straddling you, you perv. I was stepping over your legs to reach the aisle since you tend to act like a five-year-old and block me in,” I scowl back. What frigging nerve.

  I’m immediately distracted by the way I’m still sitting on his lap. I can feel his hardness against my thigh as he brushes his hand up my leg. It feel intimate, but I’m quickly reminded of the show we are now giving some audience members.

  I tip up on my heels and step over his leg to reach my seat. I stay silent for the rest of the show, unable to make any sense of my emotions. I don’t know why he does this to me, why my body reacts this way, and why my brain and body can’t agree on what I’m feeling.

  The night finally comes to an end as we stand up and applaud the performers. This was by far one of the best musicals I’ve ever seen.