Me: Hey! I offered to wash it.
Hendrix: If you want to check out my chest again, friend, just say the word. I kinda like when I catch you looking at me ;)
Oh, my God. He did not just call me out. There’s no way he’s caught me. I’m a pro spy! I laugh aloud, and it feels good. I’m starting to think maybe we can be friends. Maybe. At least he’s entertaining.
Me: I’ll have you know, I have no desire to see your chest without its shirt on, and I do not check you out! And stop calling me friend. We don’t even know each other!
Hendrix: Wow, too many exclamation marks!!!!!!!!! Am I getting you excited?!!!!!!! LOL We ARE friends!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! What do you want to know about me so you can just accept it?
Rolling my eyes, I type furiously, having way too much fun with the innuendos with him. It’s been so long since I felt even a little giddy over a man. Although I know we could never be more than friends, it’s nice to have a guy to flirt with. You know, to keep me on my toes in case I ever really do decide to have at it again. After today, the idea doesn’t seem quite as far away as it did yesterday. Pushing my thoughts from drifting back to Andrea, I read the next text instead.
Me: What’s your favourite colour?
Hendrix: Green. What are you wearing?
Me: Ignoring. Green is disgusting. Mine’s orange. What’s your favourite movie?
Hendrix: Die Hard. What’s your favourite position?
Me: Friends don’t tell friends that!
Hendrix: See I knew we were friends :)
Me: Urgh! Going to sleep now. See you at shop tomorrow
Hendrix: Does this new friendship mean I’m forgiven and we’ll talk now?
Me: I guess. But don’t push it. Keep the chocolates for your girlfriend.
Hendrix: I don’t have a girlfriend, but I like when you fish like that. Makes me feel wanted.
Me: You’re impossible. Goodnight.
Hendrix: Night, Fruitloop
And for the first time in two years, I fall asleep with a smile on my face, and don’t wake up thinking it’s all just been a bad dream.
19
Trinity
“If I’m able to sneak out at a reasonable time, I’ll make sure I stop by,” I tell Andrea over my Bluetooth. She just invited me over for dinner tonight with her, Simon and a few of their friends, but with it being a holiday I already had plans with the Flynns. Now she’s trying to get me to at least come for coffee and dessert.
“Try to escape if you can, but if you can’t, I guess I’ll understand. We’ll just have to go for an extra long coffee on Friday. I have a lot to fill you in on.”
“Yes, you certainly do. I still can’t believe how long you left me hanging. But, yeah, that sounds good. Chances are I won’t make it, but thank you for the invite. I hate to miss it, and I miss you. Besides, you keep bragging about that pumpkin pie of yours,” I laugh, as I pull into a spot near Dex and Tillie’s.
“Best pie ever, and you’re missing out,” she teases, knowing pumpkin is my all-time favourite.
“Now, that’s just mean, you witch.”
“You know it,” Andrea chuckles.
“Whatever. I’ll text you either way, but I’m here and I better go. Looks like I’m the last to arrive,” I tell her, scanning the area and noticing familiar cars parked all over.
“Sounds good, sweetie. Tell the family ‘hi’ from me, and have fun.”
“Will do. Talk soon.”
“Bye.” She hangs up and I turn the car off.
It’s Thanksgiving weekend, admittedly my favourite holiday. Every year, Aunt Tillie cooks a huge-ass turkey and we all come together for dinner. The guys watch sports and we ladies chat and drink a lot of wine. It’s been a couple of weeks since Andrea told Simon everything and, like I’d hoped, Simon took the news well and he’s been amazingly supportive. He even came to the last family group therapy session, which didn’t give Andrea and I much of a chance for our usual girl talk afterwards. I need to hear the full details of how it went down exactly, but I know she’ll fill me in when she can. All I know is that it went well and that he’s been taking good care of my friend, as I knew he would. He’s a wonderful man and I’m relieved that Andrea was able to open up to Simon and for him to have been understanding.
Walking into Dex and Tillie’s, my senses are immediately on overload. The smell of roasting turkey permeates the air, along with the subtle hints of sage and rosemary that are the key ingredients of Dex’s secret stuffing recipe (the one he refuses to share).
“Happy Thanksgiving,” I shout, stopping in the hall to remove my shoes and jacket, but I leave my sweater on. It’s not too chilly out yet, but there’s a definite bite in the autumn air, and I know from experience that we ladies will be taking our wine and sitting out back around the fire at some point.
“I thought I heard the door,” Tillie calls, peeking around from the kitchen. “Come in, sweetie.” I make my way to the kitchen to kiss Aunt Til, and am about to poke my head into the living room to say “hi” to the guys, when I suddenly hear Hendrix’s deep timbre rumbling over the men’s laughter. I didn’t know he’d be here. Shit. Why didn’t he say anything when we were texting this morning? Sneaky bastard.
Rather than popping in to greet the boys, I slide over to Tillie double-time to talk, because I’m not quite ready to face the feeling of excitement that’s overtaken my body knowing Hendrix is here today. God, I need to shake the feelings I’m having for him right the hell now. The last thing I need is to get involved with my boss.
Yeah…that’s it—he’s my boss—so he’s off limits. That’s the perfect excuse for why I cannot afford to develop feelings other than friendship for him. It just wouldn’t be a good idea career-wise. It’s not because I’m a chickenshit, that I fear losing the way he looks at me, how that would immediately change once I told him I’m HIV-positive; no, certainly not.
Okay, I’ll come clean. Seeing him looking at me any differently would destroy me. I would never want to do anything to jeopardise the way he sees me. For now, there’s a hunger behind his eyes when we’re together and it’s a look that makes me feel wanted, almost special, like he only has eyes for me. Even if I know he’s got eyes for a lot of women, from what I hear, I enjoy thinking this way more than I like to admit.
Over the last few weeks since he first texted me, Hendrix and I have definitely come a long way from our first meeting. We laugh, a lot. He drives me crazy with his flirty comments (which I secretly love, of course) and best of all we text for a few minutes before bed every night. The smug bastard is right. We are friends. And I haven’t felt so light and settled in a long time. Who knew having Hendrix in my life would fill a void I didn’t even want to admit was there?
“Aunt Tillie, what on earth is Hendrix doing here? How come no-one told me?” I ask, not meaning to sound accusatory, but it kind of comes out that way.
“What do you mean? We have the guys from Ignition over for Thanksgiving every year. He’s part of the shop now, I’d say, being part-owner with Dex.” She looks at me like I’m crazy.
“No, I know. I guess I just would have liked a little notice so I could be prepared,” I let slip, and then cover my mouth. Tillie is way too perceptive to let that slide, and is about to call me out in: 5, 4, 3, 2, 1…
“All right. Spit it out. What’s with the focus on Hendrix? Your uncle sees the way you look at that boy. Now, Trin. Tell me.”
“Nothing. We’ve become friends, I guess, and he’s pretty hot as I’m sure you know, and…I guess he makes me a little nervous. I haven’t reacted—or allowed myself to react—to anyone in a really long time, so I’m freaking out. And I just like to know when he’ll be around so I can make sure to have my game-face on,” I blurt in one breath, which causes Til to burst out laughing.
“Oh, dear. You’re quite smitten, my little kitten, aren’t you? This calls for wine,” she says, grabbing two glasses from the cupboard. Our attention is drawn to the living room where we hear a loud chee
r and see the guys high-five-ing as the Blue Jays take the lead in Game 3 of the series.
I don’t give Aunt Tillie an answer; I don’t need to. Instead, I take in Hendrix. He’s wearing distressed blue jeans and a long-sleeved Hurley shirt that hugs him in all the places I’d like to visit. God, I wish he’d kiss me already. I swear we’ve come close a few times and if I wasn’t me, I’d lean up one of these times and give myself a taste of what I imagine would be like nothing else I’ve ever had. But thinking of kissing him, as innocent of an act as that normally is, makes Jared’s words resurface as though it were yesterday: “Before we kissed. You should have told me. I hate fucking surprises. I mean…fuck! We’ve kissed!” and “…you have AIDS, for Christ’s sake! I could have it.”
As these memories darken my mind, I remember why kissing Hendrix can never be my reality. Why I’ll never be the girl who’s confident enough to make the first move, even if I wanted to.
“I think it’s wine time, sweetheart. Everything’s on track for now. Go sit out back,” Tillie says, and I’m relieved to get out of my head.
Right on cue, my older cousin, Nadia, and Shannon come bustling through the swinging door which connects the kitchen and formal dining room.
“Trinny! You’re here! Didn’t hear you come in.” Shannon comes to give me a big squeeze.
“I can’t believe you beat me here. You’re always late,” I smile, taking in her cute grey sweater dress. “You look great. I’m borrowing this soon.”
“Anytime,” she smiles. “I think Tillie’s onto me and my tardiness. She asked me to pick up a few bottles of wine, so I knew I had to get here early, being the one in charge of the most coveted goods in all of Thanksgivingland. Well, along with Dex’s stuffing, of course.” She peeks into the oven. “Are you sure this velociraptor will feed all of us? Jeez, Til. That’s a big bird.”
“Oh, shush. It’s not that big, besides I make soup tomorrow with the leftovers, once I make sure you kids have had enough.”
“Well, personally, I love turkey so I’m happy it’s a big one.” I pat my belly, moving to take a peek for myself.
“Will you two stop opening the oven door? You’re letting all the heat out! Out with you, go have some wine. Everyone out of my kitchen,” Tillie shrieks.
After giving me a hug, Nadia gets right down to business. “Let’s go sit out back. I need some girl- and wine time. I’m beat.” She sweeps her hand across her forehead. “The tables are all set, and I even added some of those cracker thingies that the kids and I found at Dollarama. They aren’t only for Christmas anymore,” she says proudly. “The kids are down watching Halloween movies, the big babies have their game on, and now Mama needs to unwind from all that work.”
“Armed and ready,” Shannon jokes, holding up two bottles of Inception, my favourite red wine.
I’m about to comment, but then I feel Hendrix entering the room before I see him.
“Hey, Fruitloop.” He palms my exposed neck with his large warm hand, running a thumb along my skin, a move he’s coined over the last week, one I secretly love. Sexy bastard. “When did you get here? I didn’t hear you come in.” He stands beside me, his calloused hand still in place.
“Oh, you guys were pretty involved in the game when I got in. I didn’t want to interrupt,” I say sheepishly. “I didn’t want to risk getting a bad rep and being blamed if they missed the ball or something as I was saying hello. Some people are really serious about that stuff. You know, like believing if you don’t keep your eyes on the game the team won’t win or whatever? I didn’t want to chance it…” Holy shit, I’m loopy! I’m just rambling on and on, and have no idea what the hell I’m even talking about. See? Preparation is everything around this man!
I look around the peach-coloured kitchen to see that Aunt Til, Shannon, Nadia and Hendrix are all staring at me. The women share a knowing grin, and Hendrix is simply watching me. And then he lets out a loud laugh, a deep rumble that I feel in my bones. It drifts over my body like a sweet heat, bringing my dormant senses to life. It’s a reaction that he seems to elicit so easily. And it’s one I haven’t felt in a really long time, which only confirms what I already know: that Hendrix is dangerous for me. Despite knowing better, however, more and more I think I might want to take a risk with him anyway.
“I…I assume you’ve all met?” I manage to ask.
“Oh, yeah, we all met Hendrix. Trin, you neglected to tell us how hot your new boss was,” Shannon blurts, like it’s the most natural thing in the world to say. Never have I wanted to throat-punch my bestie as much as I do right the hell now.
“You think I’m hot?” Hendrix questions, and looks at me with a cocky smirk.
“No. I mean, you’re alright looking, I guess.” I shrug my shoulders and we all know it’s total bullshit.
Running that goddamn thumb along my neck, he gloats, “You coming to join us, ladies? Game’s getting good. Jays are batting next.” He looks between us.
“Nah, we’re heading out back for some wine time before Til puts us back to work,” Shannon says, thumbing towards my auntie. “Trin, can you grab some glasses for us? Let’s go, Nad. We can get the fire pit going.” She leads Nadia out the back door.
“I see. Well, you all have fun,” he nods, making his way to the fridge. I move to the cupboard that holds the glassware. Reaching up, I feel a cool breeze on my skin. I know my sweater has ridden up in the back. Trying to keep it pulled down, I’m stretching up to get the last two wineglasses when I feel his heat on my back. He’s caged me in, and my heart begins to pound in my chest.
“Let me, Fruitloop.” His words brush against my ear, the subtle smell of beer—and him—heightening my awareness of his proximity.
“Th—thanks,” I say, coming off my tippytoes.
“No problem.” He rests a hand on my hip. “That’s what friends are for,” he adds, while starting to rub a small circle on my exposed skin, igniting a fire so deep I feel it everywhere. He glides his thumb over my hip again, before pulling my sweater back down. “Have fun with the girls.”
He kisses the back of my head, and walks out, several bottles of beer held by their necks between his fingers.
See? Really fucking dangerous.
I stand in the middle of the kitchen, stunned. Aunt Til bumps into me, trying to place a hot saucepan on the counter. She flaps a dishtowel at me. “You too! Out! Scat! Shoo!”
*
Dinner is served, and everything is perfect. Hendrix and I steal glances and tease each other with one-liners here and there, ones that have everyone laughing. He really does fit in with my family, and for the first time since our meeting, I’m happy Dex sold the shop to him. I know he’ll do right by my uncle’s life’s work.
“You hot for him? You keep staring at him,” my cousin, Mia, whispers, her brows raised with curiosity. I must admit, she’s right. I can still feel his touch on my hip, and that kiss. My eyes keep finding him even when we’re not teasing each other. It’s like they’re determined to seek him out, despite my willing them not to.
“No. We’re just friends. I tried to dodge it, but the stupid ogre forced me into a friendship with him.”
“I heard that, Fruitloop.” He taps my shin under the table where he’s sitting across from me. “You know you begged me to befriend you.”
“Ha! Like I’d beg you for anythi—” I eat my own words before completing that sentence when I catch the sudden heat behind Hendrix’s golden eyes, at the words ‘beg’ and ‘you’. Shit. Apparently me begging has us both thinking about unfriend-like things. “Friends,” I remind him.
“For now,” he hisses over our plates. Luckily, everyone is looking at Gavin at this point, so they don’t hear. Gavin is Nadia and Brody’s eight-year-old son, who’s currently doing some kind of magic trick at the end of the table with his dad’s napkin, making it look like a live dove tucked in the crook of his elbow.
“Behave,” I mouth at Hendrix before standing to help clear the table, taking all the empty pla
tes and serving dishes into the kitchen before we serve coffee and dessert.
“Trin, I’ve got some bad news,” Nadia says, grabbing my attention away from grinding the coffee beans.
“Yeesss?” I look over to her and smile. “What can I do for you, madam?” I ask, dumping the fragrant grounds into the coffee maker.
“Don’t kill me, but you know how on Thanksgiving Monday we always take the kids to the pumpkin patch? Well, I have to cancel tomorrow. I have to work on a proposal. It’s taking me a lot longer than I anticipated, and with having spent the time here today, I can’t risk not finishing. I meant to mention it before, but I forgot. I’m sorry, but we’ll have to reschedule,” she says, a little deflated. I know her job has been stressful over the last few months since she was promoted to advertising coordinator at Metroland Media.
“What if I take them on my own?” I say. “I’m pretty sure I can be trusted with small humans. It’ll be fun. Then the house will be quiet for you. I was looking forward to it, and I really need a candy apple in my life. Let me and the rugrats have a Trinny, Gavin and Bella day.”
“Are you sure?” Nadia eyes me skeptically.
I laugh. “I know…it’s odd, eh? Me actually volunteering to spend time with children? Crazy. But you forget, I get to give them back so spending the day with them is super for me,” I grin.
“Okay. Well, thank you. They’ll be very excited. I thought Bella was going to cry when I broke the news to her that we couldn’t go.”
“My pleasure. Now I’m going to go unbreak the news and become their favourite second cousin.”
“I adore you, Trinity Adams. I owe you,” she calls, as I turn on the coffee maker and run off to find the kids.
“Pay me in wine!” I holler back.
20
Hendrix
“Can I help you, sir?” a voice calls from behind the wooden post I’ve been leaning against for the last fifteen minutes (looking like some creep, I’m sure).
Tainted by Love Page 9