by K. S. Thomas
I search for my apartment number while I fumble for the tiny key to open my designated slot as soon as I find it. Not much in there when I do. Still, the pet store coupon made it worth the trip. Now that Mr. Grey Cat officially lives with me, Tessa is bound to buy stuff like cat food.
“Hey, neighbor,” a sultry unfamiliar voice greets me. It’s not until I look up from my mail that I recognize her. She’s a friend of Tessa’s. Lives one level down from us. Last time I saw her, she was wasted. I’m surprised she even knows I live in her building.
“Hi, there.” I smile politely, tucking the envelopes into my bag and preparing to exit.
“Tessa said you’re a professor,” she continues to engage, putting a temporary stop to my plans.
“Yep.”
Her head tilts toward her left shoulder and her eyes turn doe-like as she pouts. “No fair. There weren’t any hot professors when I was still a student there.”
I chuckle, trying to avoid doing or saying anything that might make this awkward.
“Of course,” she drawls on, “I suppose if you were my professor, it would be really inappropriate for me to ask you out.”
I nod. Obviously. “Yeah, it would.”
She laughs, a sort of high pitched giggle that annoys far more than it entices. “Well, thank goodness I’m not a student anymore then!” She takes another step toward me, hand reaching out to land on my arm. She gives it a soft squeeze and murmurs her appreciation for my non-gym related muscles. “So, a bunch of us are going out tonight to this place called the Basement. They’ve got a great house band and the drink specials are insane. Plus, Tessa works there, so she’ll get us all in for free. What do say?”
I plan to say no. I’m not interested, and if Tessa is going to be there, I have no business going anyway. “Sounds great.” My mouth clearly has its own ideas.
“Yay!” She claps her hands together in excitement. “It’s going to be so much fun!”
Then she swirls around in a hurry, mumbling about what she will wear as she ditches me in the mail room. Unfortunately, it’s not until after she leaves in her cloud of perfume and giggles, that I realize, I still have no clue what her name is. And that’s not even my biggest problem.
Chapter Seven
Tessa
“There’s no way I’m wearing that.” But Drea ignores me.
“You can borrow my black booties to go with it. It’ll look hot as hell.” She throws the little black dress at me. I’m pretty sure I have t-shirts made of more material. Actually, the more I look at it, the more I wonder if maybe it is one of her t-shirts with a wide elastic band sewn into the bottom to keep my ass from showing every time I move.
“How come I’ve never seen you wear this?”
She laughs. “Yeah, because I would wear something that slutty.” I’m about to start yelling, when she adds, “I’m kidding, you prude. I haven’t worn it yet because I just went and picked it up today. Just for you.”
“You bought it for me?”
“Yes and no. I bought it so you could wear it tonight, after that, I want it back.” She shrugs. “Or, you know, just promise you’ll let me borrow it from time to time. Your need for a sexy black dress is probably more dire than mine.”
“Gee. Thanks.” She’s not wrong though. It’s not like Scott makes a habit of withholding sex from her. And she’s not out to attract anyone else. Hasn’t been since he gave her his letterman jacket back in high school.
“Now hurry up and change. I still have to do your hair and makeup.” She’s practically skipping on her way out.
“I’m pretty sure I can manage those on my own.”
“Jereme Winters, dude. No sex since Jereme Winters,” she reminds me just before the door falls shut behind her.
I’m thinking my lacking sex life isn’t really tied to the way I do my hair and makeup, but I suppose there’s no harm in going along with this experiment. Maybe I’ve been wrong all this time. Maybe it has nothing to do with the giggle. Maybe men don’t see me because I never learned how to work a curling iron. It’s possible. Really. One theory isn’t any more or less ridiculous than the other.
Twenty minutes later and Drea and I stroll out of her apartment and into the parking lot to the sounds of whistling and what I can only describe as vocal leering. In any event, I’m torn between feeling flattered and slightly violated.
“Holy hotness, Tessa. Who knew you had legs like that?” Scott’s got both arms wrapped around his girl as he says this. Even if he didn’t, I would know he isn’t so much paying me a compliment as he is genuinely asking.
“Yeah, thanks. Can we get going, or what?” I’m doing my best to pretend and not notice that Scott’s buddy Jason is still checking me out. If I didn’t know for a fact that he was sleeping with Jules a while back, I’d be over the moon about the way he’s eyeing me right now, but as it stands, that is so not an option. Aside from him, the only other guy here is Bart. I like Bart. Like I like warm wooly socks and big cushy pillows. He’s comfy with a comfy personality. Hot firefighter or not, the warm feeling just isn’t ever going to reach a boiling point between us.
“We’re still waiting on some people,” Drea explains.
“I thought we were meeting the other guys at The Basement.” My car is already at max capacity with everyone here, and we all know I’ll be driving tonight.
“We’re meeting my boys there. Jules is the one that’s still missing,” Scott says, glancing up toward her apartment. It’s pretty clear he’s anxious to get this night rolling. I can relate. Somehow, the thought of Lane catching a glimpse of me in this getup has me mortified. Like he would know exactly why I’m dressed like this. And given his lack of filter and non-stop curiosity, he would bring it up. Not in public, but later tonight, over coffee. For which I will be wearing sweatpants.
“There she is.” Drea points at the stairs just as a pair of feet come down the steps. Followed closely by another.
“Who’s that with her?” And how in the hell do they think they’re all fitting in the backseat of my little Honda?
No one has to answer me though. I can see who it is for myself now. Lord, let the earth open up and swallow me whole.
“Like my date?” Jules winks as she bumps her hip into mine playfully. Unlike Drea and me, she is not a student. Graduated two years ago.
“Not particularly.”
“Tessa!” Drea gapes at me as if she’s shocked or something. No one else is. Not even him.
“Nice to see you too, Tessa.”
“Whatever, Mike.” I grin. I’ve never used someone’s name as an insult before. “Meanwhile, did you forget you’re not supposed to fraternize with students?”
Scott scowls at me. “Most of us aren’t students.”
Lane shrugs, grinning back at me. “Close enough.”
“Well, you’re not riding with me,” I announce as if it’s still a small sort of victory. It’s not.
“Her car is full,” Drea explains. She’s always been the nicer one of us two.
“I was planning on driving,” Lane says, pointing at his BMW two cars over which as always appears to be excruciatingly out of place here. Kind of like he is. Or rather, Jules is, standing next to him. What the hell is up with that, by the way?!
No. Can’t go there. Not now. I didn’t get all hussied up to be worrying about the wrong guy all night. Determined not to let this set me back, I jingle my keys loudly, letting everyone know it’s time to load up and hit the road. Drea rides up front with me, while Scott and Jason spread out in the backseat, Bart having opted to ride with Lane and Jules.
“Did you know about this?” Drea hisses, gaping out of her window still trying to watch Jules and Lane in the other car.
My brow crinkles, trying to determine if there’s a way out of having this conversation. “That Jules was going to show up with a guy tonight? I think we all knew about that.”
She abandons the window to frown at me. “You know it’s not about bringing a guy, it’s abou
t the guy! Did he tell you he was going out with Jules?” she asks, voice pitched high dramatically.
“He’s my roommate, Drea. He doesn’t have to share his social calendar with me.”
She grimaces, her non-audible way of telling me I’m full of shit. “Fine. What about Jules though, you don’t think it’s a little shady she went behind your back and asked him out?”
I peer into the rearview mirror to see if the guys are listening. They’re not. They’re completely engulfed in some video on Scott’s phone.
“No.” Lies. “I mean, I think it’s a little weird, yeah...but, it’s Jules. It’s not one of my favorite things about her, but it’s a side of her we all know and we all accept. It’s just...Jules. And, frankly, if he’s into her, then that kind of settles everything anyway.”
Drea’s quiet for a minute, staring straight ahead at the car in front of us. His car, in front of us.
“You like him!”
“What?!”
“You do. You totally like him. And not just for his pretty parts. You like, like him.”
My eyes meet the mirror again, this time in a panic. Even after her outburst, the guys still haven’t seen reason to tear themselves away from their video.
“I don’t like him, Drea. He invaded my apartment. He shows up everywhere to the point it feels like he’s taking over my freaking life. He makes me crazy. And not in a good way. In an I want to shave my hair a la Brittney Spears so I can’t yank it out with my bare hands crazy kind of way.”
She’s not buying it. “Or maybe you want him yanking on it. And maybe you want to shave it so you don’t have to imagine him yanking on it.”
“Are you insane?”
She shrugs. “I don’t know. You’re the one living with the Psyche Professor. You tell me.”
“Yes. Yes, you are.”
Drea’s hands come down to slap both knees simultaneously. “God! It’s so obvious now. I mean, I knew you were hot for him, but this is like...more.”
I’m shaking my head so hard it’s difficult to keep my eyes on the road. “No. No, it’s definitely not more. It’s so much not more, that I’m going to prove it by going through with your stupid plan and I’m going to sleep with the first one of Scott’s friends who volunteers to go home with me. Well, the first after Jason. I’m not sleeping with Jules’ sloppy seconds.”
Drea’s brow lifts suggestively. “Well, if you feel that strongly about it, you better not sit on this little crush of yours too long. We both know Jules isn’t the type to hold out on a guy. She’ll have him banging her head into his headboard before the night is over if she has her way.”
I didn’t think of that. Now that I am thinking about it, I’m not sure how I feel about it. That headboard is my old headboard. Right across the hall from me.
“It’s none of my business.” It’s the safest thing I can think to say.
“Most of what we talk about is none of our business. That doesn’t ever stop us.”
I can see the bright lights from the Basement up ahead.
“Whatever. We’re here. Can we please just drop this?”
“For now. But regardless of what you want to tell yourself, I know for a fact that Jules going out with him, settles nothing. Therefore, I want to reserve the right to resume this conversation at a later date.” She would.
“Fine. Provided we’re alone at this later date.”
She smiles. “I can work with that.”
I sigh just as I turn into the parking lot. I don’t know if it’s intentional or not, but Lane picks a spot beside an empty one, which I’m assuming is for me. I would assume that. In reality it was likely just the first spot available.
Victoria is working the front door tonight. She waves me in before I even have a chance to say hello, eager to keep the foot traffic flowing. When she stops Jules and Lane to charge them, I’m tempted to let her. Lane already has his wallet out by the time I decide not to be a dick.
“Hey, Vic. They’re with me.”
She smiles. “Got it.” She turns back toward the pair. “Tessa says you’re covered. Y’all have a good time.”
Lane nods politely as Jules hooks her arm into his and drags him inside the main bar.
I’ve never been much for socializing where I work. I’m not sure why. I guess because who I am behind the bar is so vastly different from who I am on the other side of it.
“Tessa!” Cara yells over the music as she leans in for a hug. “Girl, look at you! You are smokin’ tonight!”
I blush, having momentarily forgotten about the dress in all the Lane-Jules chaos. “Thanks.” I stop myself before I add, ‘Drea made me wear it’ and sound like a two-year-old.
She works her way around the table like a pro, taking orders fast and efficiently with minimal shouting and just enough flirtation to flatter the boys without offending the girls. It’s funny to watch when you know her. Cara is married, and a preschool teacher by day. She’s also the only person who works here who knows my daytime persona.
“What about you, sugar?” She’s back at my side in a flash. “Water?”
“Yes, please.”
Jason groans so loudly, I can hear him even over the band blasting their tunes over the crowd. “Come on, Tessa. Live a little. We’re supposed to have a good time tonight.”
“I’m driving.” It’s as simple as that.
“One little drink ain’t gonna kill ya. Hey, gorgeous, do me a favor. Bring my uptight friend here a Purple Viking. See if we can’t loosen her up a bit.” Jason winks at me. If I had a Purple Viking in front of me right now, I’d toss it in his face.
Cara looks at me while she answers him, “Sure thing.”
I’m getting a water. I know this. She knows this. That’s all that matters.
“I’m going to go dance,” I announce, sliding off my bar stool. I walk away from the table without stopping to see if anyone else is joining me. I don’t care if they are. For Jason’s sake, he better not.
Thanks to the house band, the music is booming. Mark is pounding away at the drums, helping me drown out everything else. I close my eyes and let my body be taken over by the rhythm. This is all the escape I need. Maybe coming out tonight wasn’t a bad idea after all.
Slowly but surely, images of Jason’s condescending smirk and Jules hanging all over Lane begin to fade and I can feel myself begin to smile. Even the lingering thoughts of Meredith starts to disappear into the mist of memories I hold at bay day in and day out. Nothing can touch me. Nothing can bring me down.
Then it happens. Hands. On my hips. The feel of another body behind me, grinding into my backside.
I want to scream. One moment of peace. That’s all I needed.
I’m about to turn around to tell whatever douchebag saw fit to crash my party for one to get his hands off me, when the crowd of dancing people parts and Lane shows up. His expression hard, his eyes are locked on the person behind me. Within seconds, all that’s left of the intruder are tingling traces of where his fingers were digging into my sides.
Then, Lane’s arm is around me, bringing me to him, pressing me up against his body, just as the music changes to something slower.
Timing. It really is everything.
“Thank you.” I nearly choke on the words. Not because I have a hard time saying them. Because I’m suddenly overwhelmed by what just happened. I’ve been taking care of myself for so damn long, having someone just swoop in and save me, even from something small, is sort of surreal.
His expression is still stern, and his eyes won’t meet mine when he nods briefly.
Then his grip on me loosens, and his chest is no longer touching mine, his hand on my back rises, moving away from the intimate way it was resting on my lower back, and I exhale. Rather less gracefully than I would have liked, but he doesn’t seem to notice.
My thoughts are racing back and forth between wondering what he would do if I decided to close the gap between us again and then convincing myself I should break out of his hold c
ompletely before Jules walks over here and sees us. Then she does. And I realize what I think we look like together dancing, is not at all how we’re perceived.
“Oh, thank goodness, he’s with you.” Jules laughs, pinching my side and casually moving me out of the way to take my place. “For a second I thought I was going to have to bitch slap one of the Basement hos for stealing my date.” She turns to him and winks. “Well, trying to anyway.”
His hand moves to the center of her back, holding her steady, though I notice not as close as he was keeping me to him a minute ago, and he smiles at her. He doesn’t say anything. Which I realize sends two separate messages to the pair of us. He’s sneaky. Purposely leaving us to draw our own conclusion as to his thoughts and intentions. It makes me like him a little less again. It also makes me want to know him more.
Jules is busy casting her usual chick voodoo over him and judging by the slightly dazed expression spreading over his face, it’s kicking in already. I turn my back on them just in time to see Drea coming toward me, dragging Scott along.
It’s a split-second decision on my part when I take off across the room and zero in on the newest member of our little get Tessa laid party. He’s tall and built like a swimmer, and as far as I know, hasn’t slept with any of my friends.
“You.”
He laughs. “Me?” I like his smile. It reaches his brown eyes.
“Yes, you.” I clasp his bicep with my hand. I could have used two. My fingers don’t even come close to reaching around it. “I need a dance partner and you’re it.”
“Lucky me.” He grins, getting to his feet and following me back out onto the dance floor. We’re just settling into the sea of people grinding up on one another when he leans in to yell, “I’m Casey, by the way.”
“Tessa,” I shout back.
“I know.” His hands land on my hips as he moves closer to me, matching me move for move perfectly. I don’t usually like dancing with a partner. Inevitably someone keeps bumping into someone else and then everything is off rhythm and what’s the point of that? But not with Casey. Somehow, we just work. And I let myself think of the other places and ways we might move well together, if for no other reason than it’s the least complicated trail available to my thoughts right now.