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Chasing the High

Page 17

by Beth Michele


  My instinct was to run, to not believe the words coming out of his mouth. But I felt his truth. Right down to my fucking core. It soaked into my heart, filling me with so many things I couldn’t identify. Maybe I didn’t need to.

  “There you are.” A voice rang out backed by laughter. “Sammy, I was looking for you. We’re headed down to…” His sister. She must’ve realized she interrupted something because her pitch changed. “Oh. We’re going to the bar around the corner, you want to meet us there?”

  Sam looked over at her then spared me one last glance. “No, I’ll go with you.” He brushed past me, but paused, and I held my breath. Waiting. And yes, maybe even hoping. He leaned close, his voice low and raspy as he spoke, breath warm against my ear. “I miss you.” I turned my head and his lips caught my brow before he disappeared.

  My feet were stuck. My lips even more so. But I felt it so fucking hard, my chest ached.

  I miss you too.

  A RELENTLESS BUZZING jarred me from a deep sleep. My arm shot out and I felt around for the culprit on what should’ve been my bedside table, but it wasn’t there. As I cracked my eyes open to a hint of pale lavender curtain, I remembered where I was—at Mia’s.

  I attempted to sit up, but my head was pounding and memories of last night came rushing back. How I tried to wash away thoughts of Drew with too many Jack and Cokes. My stomach roiled and I laid back down.

  The noise of my cell wouldn’t subside, and somehow I managed to slide to the other end of the bed where there actually was a table. In my efforts to reach it, I knocked the phone to the carpet and groaned. And when I finally did snag it, I swiped a finger across the screen, even more annoyed when I didn’t recognize the number.

  Morning

  Me: Who is this?

  You can call me Mr. Mercedes

  Well that woke me right up—and I smiled.

  Me: Hey. It’s Saturday

  What?

  Drew: Thank you Captain Obvious. What are you doing?

  Me: I WAS sleeping

  Drew: It’s 11am. You need to rise and shine

  Me: No I don’t

  Drew: You do. You have plans

  A long pause followed and I began typing as another message popped up.

  Drew: If you want them

  Me: Depends. If it involves bungee jumping, the answer is I’m going back to sleep

  Drew: I think we’ve already established that’s not happening… yet. I wanted to see if you’d like to come by my place later. I thought I might make you a meal

  Me: You mean cook?

  Drew: I thought that was implied

  Me: Smartass

  Drew: Affirmative

  Me: Okay. As long as you’re not making poi, that was not edible

  Drew: No poi. Check

  Me: Okay. I’m actually at my sister’s so I’ll hang out here then. What time?

  Drew: 5ish?

  Me: Ish. Got it. See you then

  I tossed the phone onto the mattress and stretched my arms above my head. Maybe my words last night to Drew finally sunk in. Mia’s boisterous knock caused me to scramble for the sheet to cover my morning erection. She flung the door open and I chuckled.

  “Why bother knocking?”

  Her smile was bright and cheery. “Rise and shine, cupcake!” She strolled in with her pink t-shirt and matching sweatpants, a single braid tumbling over her shoulder.

  “I’ve risen, but I’m not so sure I’m shining.” I bunched a nearby pillow and propped it behind my back. Mia sat at the edge of the bed. The aroma of fresh coffee wafted in from the hallway.

  “Well, you’re in luck. I’ve made a fresh pot of coffee just for you.”

  “I’m never drinking again,” I protested, and she wrinkled her nose.

  “Famous last words.” She studied me. “Did it help?”

  “The drinking? No. Seeing Drew, yes.”

  “You started to tell me what happened last night, but then you passed out.”

  I scratched at the stubble on my jaw, a reminder I needed to shave. “I told him how I felt, that’s all.”

  Shifting on the bed, she brought her knees up to her chest and faced me. “Explain, please.”

  A sigh got away. But for once, it wasn’t out of frustration. “I realized when I apologized to him that day at the soup kitchen, I used my anxiety as an excuse. I made it about me. And… it wasn’t about me. It was about him. I might not have meant to, but I still hurt him. I needed to own up to that. So I did.” My lips stretched wide with a smile that couldn’t be tamed. “I think maybe I broke through. He texted and I’m seeing him tonight.” The squeal that flew from Mia’s mouth was so happy, I found myself unable to withhold my own excitement. I reached forward and tugged on her braid. She squealed again.

  “I am so thrilled right now, Sammy. Come on.” She awkwardly scooted off the bed and yanked on my hand. “Let’s go have some coffee and plan our strategy. I have to work later so we don’t have much time.”

  “Our strategy?” I questioned as she pulled me through the hall.

  “You know, two heads are better than one and all that.” Of course, in true Mia style, she burst out laughing at her own joke.

  “Whatever you do, Tiny, do not give up your day job.”

  A MOMENT BEFORE I stepped foot out the door, I realized I had no clue where I was going. I shot Drew off a quick text and it took him a while to respond. Apparently, he was in the shower. I tried not to think too hard about that. About the soap sliding over his wet skin and his long, slender fingers following the path. The visual pushed my erection against the zipper of my jeans and I willed it to calm down. I was getting way ahead of myself.

  It was enough that he was giving me a second chance. And that’s exactly what this felt like. With every stride that brought me closer to his place, my heart accelerated. That feeling… the one I’d described to Drew, it was there. It had always been there. Waiting for him so it could surface.

  My skin was damp but it had little to do with the humidity. As I thought more about it, I couldn’t recall the last time I was this nervous. I didn’t take a pill before I left because it had nothing to do with my anxiety—and everything to do with Drew.

  I’m sure I looked like a psychopath walking down the streets of the East Village. This ridiculous smile turning up my lips, skin covered in thick layers of sweat. My grin widened. Maybe Drew would let me take another shower.

  By the time I reached his neighborhood, I’d managed to pull myself together. My heart was still pounding, but I’d stopped for a bottled water and was no longer a mess of sweat. This area—it was so Drew. Energy buzzed in the air and slid through my fingertips. Vintage shops, eateries, and vendors lined the streets. I noticed an old record store and an indie bookshop with a unique window display that caught my attention. But my view through the glass was short-lived. I had somewhere important I needed to be. Still, that didn’t stop me from picking up one more surprise along the way.

  The four flights of stairs leading to Drew’s apartment seemed to go on forever. Somewhere above me, a dog barked. I liked hearing the sound. Where I lived, my neighborhood was so quiet you could hear a pin drop. This place was brimming with life. Pans clanked together, and as I climbed higher, the smell of garlic and butter hit my nose with a fury. When I reached the fourth floor landing, I scanned the doors until I found the right one. Then I took a second to rein in my smile. I didn’t want to look as eager as I felt.

  Drew opened the door on the second knock. His skin was flushed, wet hair poking out from a Yankees cap worn backwards. He had on a pair of sweats and a t-shirt. How anyone could look that good in sweatpants, I had no idea. His lips kicked up at the edges as if he knew I was checking him out. “You found me.”

  I tried to hold on to my grin, but it escaped anyway. “I’m good when I have an address.” He smirked and stepped aside to let me in. As I crossed the threshold, I passed him the plastic bag.

  “What’s this?”

  My fingers
crinkled the bag now hanging from his hand. “This is all the trimmings for a banana split. But I’d get them in the freezer fast. They might be slightly melted.”

  He didn’t say anything for a beat as he stared down at the bag. Until he looked up. “You don’t like them though.”

  “But you do.” My shoulders lifted in a shrug. “I don’t know. You raved about them, so I thought… maybe I’d give it a try.”

  He tipped his head back and regarded me. For a second, I thought he was going to make a joke. Instead, he surprised me with a sweet smile that made me melt into a puddle at his feet. “I think that’s really great. It makes me… proud of you.”

  I didn’t know how to respond—with words anyway. My chest exploded with warmth that spread outward to my limbs. I was certain I glowed.

  Drew turned and made his way into the kitchen as I blinked out of my trance to take in his apartment. It wasn’t big by any means, but it was… trendy? And unexpected. Light wood floors were a sharp contrast to the black leather couch and ultra-modern silvery chairs. The walls were a stark white, almost snowy, and blank. Unless you counted the flat screen television that was the focal point of the room. Game consoles were stacked on a cabinet beneath the TV and remotes were scattered on the couch.

  Trendiness notwithstanding, there were piles of clothes in one corner and stacks of paperwork haphazardly shuffled in another. Almost as if he did a quick clean prior to my arrival.

  Before I walked in further, I toed off my shoes. Something my mother drilled into me for years. A small table next to the sofa caught my eye, and I ventured over to admire several framed photographs. All were of a small Drew standing beside a woman who had to be his mother. The resemblance was uncanny. I lifted another picture, this one of him with a young man—maybe his father? But given how he felt about his dad, it had to be someone else.

  “That’s a young Joe,” he called out, “in case you were wondering.”

  I nodded, gently setting the photo down in its place. “Your mom was beautiful. You look so much like her.”

  Without turning around, I heard the awe in his voice. “Yeah. It’s like she left this piece of herself with me. That’s the only good part about looking in the mirror. I see her. It’s so much better than… it’s just better.”

  A pang hit my chest. I wanted his reflection to be different. To see what I saw—kindness and beauty—and life. So much life. I wanted to grab onto him and never let go.

  I leaned against the couch, enjoying the sight of Drew moving around the kitchen. He seemed so at ease. “I was hoping that buttery garlic smell was coming from here. I didn’t know you cooked.”

  “Life is full of fucking surprises, Sam.” He shot me a grin as he poured pasta into the colander. “Joe taught me. I may have lived with my father, but he was pretty useless.” He chuckled. “And Joe thought I needed to keep busy.”

  And I needed to be closer.

  I strolled into the kitchen, taking a seat on one of the bright red chairs at a small retro table. “How long have you been volunteering at the soup kitchen?”

  He paused, tilting his head in thought. “About five years now.” As he removed a pan from the stove, he continued. “That place is… special. Some of the same people have been coming in for years. Sometimes I get so fucking sad about it. But they have a place where they know they can get a warm meal. And people who will look at them without judgment.” He glanced at me over his shoulder. “And that’s everything, you know?”

  “Yes.” I smiled, aware we had a mutual understanding of what that was like. Not so much with hunger, but certainly with judgment. Drew turned back to the sink and my gaze flickered around the kitchen. Dirty pans and bowls were scattered along the counter. “I guess you’re not a fan of washing as you go?” I teased.

  “Hell no.” He tossed back. “What’s the fun in that?”

  “The messier the better?” I countered, quoting his exact words from our lobster excursion. Drew heaved a noticeable sigh before he swiveled around, his back resting against the counter. I wondered if I misspoke.

  “Jesus. You don’t miss anything, do you?”

  I pinned him with a sincere gaze. “Not when it comes to you.”

  Red crept up his neck and onto his cheeks. He lowered his head, seemingly trying to hide. When he gave me his eyes again, they were full of playfulness and I knew he needed it. It was too much, too soon. “I think you know I like it messy.”

  If his intention was to make me hard, it worked. My cock jumped beneath my zipper and I shifted in the chair. “What can I help with?”

  Now it was my turn to need a distraction. Otherwise, I couldn’t be held responsible for dragging those sweatpants down his legs and giving him a blowjob he’d never forget.

  Drew smirked like he had my number but I played it off. He nodded his head toward the fridge. “If you want to get out the orange and yellow peppers and slice those up for the salad, that would be fucking awesome.”

  “Okay, wiseass, I’ll get your damn peppers.” I skirted around him to open the door and retrieve them from the vegetable bin. We stood side by side as he prepared the scampi and I chopped up the peppers. I was grinning like an idiot. There was no other way to describe this—us. Except that it felt right.

  More than a minute passed and I stole a glance at Drew. He was doing everything in his power to fight his own smile—and I was high again. Sparks flared in my chest. We’d fallen back into that easy camaraderie we had before I almost destroyed it. But I think he’d forgiven me. At least I hoped he had.

  Drew added some spices as he tossed the pasta with shrimp. While he plated the food, I set the table. He placed our dishes down and grabbed two beers from the fridge. I held up my hand.

  “I’m good. I overdid it last night so I’ll just have one of the fifteen bottled waters I saw in there.”

  “Hey, Poland Springs is my jam.” Drew winced as he grabbed a seat across from me. “New York water… no thanks.” He twisted the cap off and passed it to me before popping open his beer.

  “Cheers.” I lifted my bottle to his. “Thanks for dinner.”

  “You haven’t eaten it yet.”

  I grinned, curling linguine around my fork before stabbing a shrimp and bringing it to my mouth. Drew watched me as I chewed. His eyes were on my lips and I liked them there. I swallowed down the pasta, letting my tongue skim over my bottom lip to gather the leftover butter. Drew’s Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat and my brow lifted. “That was damn near orgasmic.”

  Amusement sparked in his eyes. “Don’t be hatin’ on my orgasmic potatoes. You know they were fucking good.”

  “They were all right. But this…” I gestured with my fork in the air. “This is really delicious and I’m seriously impressed. Joe taught you well.”

  “He did.” His smile turned nostalgic. “He was more like a father to me than my own was. He helped keep me on the straight and narrow. Most of the time,” he added, grinning.

  “My father bought me a Playgirl magazine when I was fifteen.”

  Drew let out a laugh filled with air. “What?”

  ‘“To be supportive of my gayness,’ he said.”

  He swigged his beer. “Holy shit.”

  “When my mother just happened,” I bent my fingers into air quotes, “to stumble across it in my room, she sat my father and I down and launched into a two-hour psychoanalysis of how it objectified men the same way Playboy objectified women. Needless to say, it ended up in the trash.” I winked, idly twirling pasta around my plate. “Of course, I managed to have a quick look before it did.”

  “That is funny as shit.” Drew chuckled. “My father didn’t buy me crap. Well, cigarettes once, but they ended up in the trash too. I remember telling Joe and he was disgusted. He never liked my father very much either.”

  “By the way, I saw your old neighborhood.” Upon hearing my admission, Drew’s mouth slanted into a tight line. “That’s why we were in the area of the soup kitchen. I wanted to see where you
grew up.”

  “Are you fucking crazy?” He shook his head. “That neighborhood is messed up. And you and your sister are like a light shining in a dark harbor.”

  “Pretty good analogy.” I laughed, my attempt at humor met with a frown.

  “I’m not fucking kidding. Please don’t go there. Unless you’re with me.”

  “Okay,” I agreed, and he exhaled a quick but relieved breath.

  “Thank you.”

  Trying to cut the sudden tension, I raised the basket of garlic bread. “May I offer you some bread? It’s buttery and delicious, and quite possibly orgasmic.”

  It had the desired effect because he snorted. “You are such an ass.”

  “An irresistible ass though, right?” I teased, biting dramatically into the crust of bread. I’m not sure what had gotten into me. Being around Drew, it brought out this whole other side. Not that I wasn’t already odd, but for whatever reason it seemed magnified.

  The playfulness disappeared from his gaze, replaced with something that made my pulse gallop. His eyes roamed lazily over my face. “Yeah.”

  I paused mid-chew as we stared at one another until electricity fueled the air between us. If this were one of my novels, I would toss the table over and remove any obstacles before grabbing Drew’s face and kissing him senseless. Until he was panting and limp beneath my fingertips. Until he wanted me, just as much as I wanted him.

 

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