by Lake, C. J.
After introductions, they sat down to drinks. Andy and Alexis both ordered virgin piña coladas while Tragan got a Coke. In the back of her mind, Andy wondered if he’d gone for a non-alcoholic drink because he feared the concert would be so dull that alcohol might lull him into yawning. (Andy had been to one of these with Brad once and his yawning had become rather epic by the second hour.)
“So, Tragan,” Alexis said, after everyone had engaged in basic small talk for a while. “Andy told me you work in construction. What exactly do you construct?”
“Houses mostly. And renovations on houses.”
“How many guys--and girls--do you work with?”
“My friend’s dad owns the company and he has got a ton of guys working for him. But on my usual crew, it’s five guys. No girls, sorry. I get sent out alone on smaller jobs, too, sometimes.”
Alexis nodded slowly, studying him. “And do you enjoy it?”
Tragan nodded. “Yeah, I like it okay. I think I’m pretty good at it.”
“I see. I think I’ll skip ahead here. Have you ever been arrested?”
“No.”
“Convicted of a felony?”
Andy interrupted, “Lex, how could he be convicted of a felony if he’s never been arrested? Just saying.”
Lex pointed at her and gave an efficient nod. “Yes. Good point. Oh, I know! Have you ever renovated a house that was haunted--and if so, were the spirits malevolent?”
Andy rolled her eyes while Tragan remained nonplussed. “Not sure,” he said. “Ghosts fear me.”
Alexis smirked. “Well played. So, what’s your favorite Justin Timberlake movie?”
Tragan scrunched his brows at that. “Uh…”
“That’s correct,” Alexis interrupted, shifting her gaze to Andy. “Hesitating with confusion is the right answer.”
Andy couldn’t help but laugh. “Okay, Lex, that’s enough. Interrogation’s over. Let’s talk about the concert.”
At this point Alexis went through all the pieces she intended to play and in what order. Meanwhile, Andy was acutely aware of Tragan’s hand on her back. The way he ran his fingers up and down was affectionate, very boyfriend-y, and it sent a warm flutter of adrenaline through her chest.
Eventually Alexis checked her watch. “Actually I should go. I need to warm up before the concert. Oh, but Andy! I forgot to ask you--to beg you, really. Seth is flunking English.”
“What! You’re kidding.”
“Well, I’m exaggerating,” Alexis admitted. “More like C-minus territory. But my mother’s all stressed over it because he has to apply for colleges soon. The problem is he refuses to work with a tutor. Every time he’s supposed to meet with one, he blows it off. You’re the only person he’d probably sit down with…you know, if you could help him a little? Just once or twice,” she assured Andy, her big almond eyes suddenly beseeching. “You won’t have to be his official tutor or anything. Just help him out maybe, if you have time?”
“Who’s Seth?” Tragan said casually.
“My little brother,” Alexis replied. “He’s a junior in high school. He loves Andy, though. I know he’d listen to her. Like I said, meet with him once. If he’s a hopeless illiterate, destined for a life on the road with motorcycle gangs, then, you know, no harm done.”
Giving her a suspicious look, Andy said, “But isn’t Seth really good at math?”
“Yeah, he gets all As in math--oh, I see what you’re getting at,” Alexis said with pretend comprehension. “It would have to be one of those mathematically-oriented motorcycle gangs.”
“Exactly my point,” Andy said dryly. “Okay. I’ll try to help. Just email me the list of books that they’re teaching in Seth’s class so I can be prepared.”
“Andy, you’re the best!” Alexis enthused, before rising from her seat and giving her another hug. When she pulled back, she asked, “By the way, what are you doing for your birthday this year?”
“Oh. Not sure,” Andy replied. “No plans as of yet.”
“Really?” Alexis said, pursing her lips. Then threw a quick questioning eye in Tragan’s direction. “You guys should do something fun.”
“We will,” Tragan said, sounding confident and sliding his arm around Andy’s waist.
After that, they went to the concert. Although the music was beautiful, Andy’s focus was often diverted by her physical awareness of Tragan--the brush of his thigh against hers, his warm palm, their interlocked hands resting on his lap. At one point he began playing with her palm, idly tracing shapes on her skin, which sent prickles of pleasure up her spine. She responded by doing it back to him. Somehow it turned from affection to flirtation to something that felt like foreplay. Andy knew she wasn’t the only one starting to feel aroused with all the touching when she saw Tragan shifting slightly in his seat and heard him releasing a breath. By the second hour, they exchanged heated glances and the dark intensity in his eyes told her that if they were in private right now he’d be tearing open her blouse and pushing up her skirt.
Later, when they were finishing dinner at an elegant, crowded Chinese restaurant on Huntington Ave., Andy said, “Best part: fortune cookies. You go first.”
“Okay.” Tragan smashed his cookie open and uncurled the strip. “‘Life is full of challenges and triumphs,’” he read, then grimaced. “Man, I hate fortunes like that. They don’t even predict anything.”
“True, but would you rather they forecast a life of misery?”
He burst out a laugh. “I’m a paying customer! Why are those my two choices?”
“Okay, obviously if I had all the answers, I’d be writing fortune cookies for a living.”
“All right, smartass,” he said with a grin, “now you go.” Andy’s heart swelled after she cracked open her cookie and saw her fortune. “Well?”
“‘You will find your path with a new traveling companion.”
A bit disappointingly, Tragan didn’t say anything to that--other than, “See, that’s an actual fortune.” Still, Andy folded it neatly and slipped it in her purse, appreciating the hopefulness and romantic metaphor contained in that one simple sentence. “By the way, why didn’t you tell me your birthday was coming up?” Tragan asked.
Andy shrugged. “Honestly, I hadn’t even thought of it yet. It’s three weeks away.”
“Yeah, well, three weeks is barely enough time,” Tragan told her.
“For what?”
“What do you mean ‘for what’? For me to make a big deal, boyfriend-style.”
Her face broke into a smile and she slipped her hand under the table to touch his leg. “You don’t have to do anything major. Believe me, I don’t need a big deal.”
“It’s part of the boyfriend code. That’s just how it is,” he informed her casually.
She tilted her head, covertly rubbing his thigh. “And what do you know about the boyfriend code?”
With a self-assured grin, Tragan said, “Hey, I’ve charmed some women before.”
“I believe it--but I want you to forget all them,” Andy commented, keeping her tone light even though she meant the words with every ounce of her soul.
He reached across the table and took her other hand in his. “Already done.”
Chapter Thirty-one
The next two weeks seemed to coast by. Tragan and Andy spent nearly all their free time together, although Tragan’s work schedule lately had cut into many of the evenings he would otherwise spend at home. It might seem counterintuitive since they did live together, but still… Andy missed him.
Now as she towel-dried her hair, she heard Tragan come through the front door. As she stepped out of her bathroom, their eyes met. Her face broke into a smile. “Hello. What are those for?”
“For you,” he said, coming closer, carrying a bouquet of daffodils and white daisies.
“I love them!” She clutched them lovingly to her chest. “You don’t have to get me flowers,” she said, not sure why she’d added that.
Tragan just shrugged c
asually and leaned down to kiss her hello. “No big thing. I passed the stand on the way home. Saw them, thought you’d like them.” Andy curled her fingers into his shirt as she kissed him, lingering her lips on his. When they pulled apart, Tragan said, “Yellow’s your favorite, right?”
“Daffodils--yes,” she murmured happily, resting against his chest and letting herself get enveloped in his hug. If only her head weren’t pounding tonight, she could really get lost in him. But it was one of those splitting headaches that had gotten progressively worse over the past few hours. She’d hoped a hot shower would help, but it hadn’t. “I missed you.”
“Missed you, too, babe,” he said, tightening his arms around her.
“How much longer do you think this renovation will take?”
“Uh, we’re almost done. So how was tutoring?” The subject change seemed kind of abrupt, as if Tragan didn’t want to talk about work. Though, why would he want to talk about a job that was causing him to work late almost every night for the past week?
“It went okay,” she replied, as Tragan followed her to the kitchen. “Seth brought over his last couple of English papers and I read them. He’s actually a really smart kid,” she continued, as she pulled out a glass vase and set it under the faucet. “But I think I figured out the basic problem.”
Tragan leaned on the counter. “What is it?”
“He’s not reading any of the books,” she replied flatly and Tragan laughed.
“Okay. So how can you fix that one?” he asked dryly.
“Exactly,” she said with a smirk. After she arranged the flowers, she set the vase on the counter and reached into the cabinet for the Advil. “Apparently he’s told his mom and Lex that he’s trying his best, but when I called him out on the BS in his papers, he admitted it. Anyway, he promised he’d read the next book coming up--The Age of Innocence--and I told him to email me and we’d discuss it and figure out paper topics. That’s really all I can do at this point,” she finished, as she opened the fridge and pulled out a water bottle. “Want one?”
“No, thanks. By the way…speaking of school,” Tragan said, standing straighter. “I’ve been thinking about what we talked about--you know, about me finishing my degree.”
Andy’s eyes brightened. “Yeah?”
“Yeah, I was thinking, why not do it soon, you know? I’m half way done anyway. I’m thinking I’ll enroll in classes part time. So I can still work during the day and do the school thing at night.”
“Oh, my God, that’s great!” Andy said enthusiastically.
“You think?” he said, eying her askance as if double-checking.
“Of course! If it’s important to you then you need to do it. Once you have the degree, you have it and you’re done--so, yes, you need to do this,” she told him firmly.
Smiling at her, he stepped closer and put his arms around her waist. “Well, I just wanted to run it by you, because…you know…I didn’t want you to miss me too much.”
“Hmm, okay, that’s a valid concern,” she admitted with a flirtatious little smile. “Hey, this will be fun--if I get into a master’s program around here, we’ll both be students!” she said as she shook three pills into her hand.
Tragan looked down at Andy’s palm which was nestled between their bodies and lowered his eyes with slight concern. “Hey, you feel okay?”
“Just a bad headache tonight.”
“Then you should be in bed,” he suggested, taking her by the shoulders and turning her around. Nudging her toward her room, he added, “Go to sleep.”
With an affronted laugh, Andy said, “Excuse me, Bossy. I’m not tired.”
He was still gently nudging her forward as he said, “Well, I was going to shower and then just watch the basketball game. Want to watch with me?”
Not meaning to, Andy grimaced, then glanced back at him. “That may be the worst headache remedy I’ve ever heard.”
Sardonically, Tragan tsked and shook his head. “You and your basketball hate…”
“I’ll probably just read,” Andy told him as they both crossed the threshold into her room.
“Won’t reading make your headache worse? Even I know that.”
“Well, I’m not tired!” she insisted with a hand on her hip. “What do you want me to do? Just stare up at the ceiling, singing ‘99 Bottles of Beer on the Wall’? Actually…” she realized aloud, “that may be the second worst remedy.”
With a half-grin, Tragan gently squeezed her shoulders. “Okay, how about this? What if I read to you a little and you close your eyes and try to rest?”
“Really?” Andy said, surprised. “You’d do that?”
“Sure, why not? I can read, you know.”
With a giggle, Andy climbed into her bed and settled under the covers. “All right, great! That is so sweet of you! This’ll be fun--you’re sure you don’t mind?”
“Why would I mind? You’re my girl,” he stated simply, then walked closer to her towering landscape of books. “So which one do you want me to take? I hope you’re not going to say this one,” he mentioned, lifting up a fat, weathered edition of Shakespeare’s Early Plays.
“Actually…” Andy leaned over to pull open her nightstand drawer. “I started a new book last night.” As Tragan sat down on the bed, she handed it to him. For a second, he just looked at it--until memory dawned, the title suddenly familiar. “So your mom and I will have something to talk about next time I see her,” Andy explained, nestling into her pillow and waiting for Tragan to join her.
Climbing up and settling beside her with a sigh, he said, “Seducing the Billionaire Earl’s Pregnant Bride, huh?”
“I picked it up at Barnes and Noble yesterday.”
Tragan wedged Andy’s circular accent pillow between his neck and the headboard so he was more in a sitting position, as Andy snuggled in close to his chest. “All right,” he said and began leafing through pages. “Where should I start?”
“Let’s see…oh! I remember. I left off at the part when the earl sees Lady Olivia across a crowded ballroom and thinks, ‘He’d had hundreds and hundreds of women before, but no one had ever made him feel like this.’”
“Oh, brother,” Tragan muttered with a raspy chuckle. Then he stopped short and glanced at Andy with a slight expression of dismay. “Hundreds and hundreds? Really, this is what my mother likes to read?”
Arching up, Andy kissed Tragan’s scratchy cheek, then his lips, before finding the page and tapping her finger on the book. “Quit stalling,” she said with another giggle.
“Fine, I’ll read it. But only for you.”
Chapter Thirty-two
“Yo, Andaline!”
Narrowing her eyes, Andy stepped out of her bedroom the following morning. She saw Tragan walking across the living room, pulling a clean tee shirt over his head. “You did not just call me that,” she said with a warning look.
When Tragan grinned confidently, he looked even cuter, and right now it only added to the sheer sex appeal that stole her breath. Tragan’s face was newly shaved and his hair still wet and messy from his shower. The passing glimpse Andy had just gotten of his stomach reminded her to curse that stupid headache she’d had the night before. “Actually, I did,” he said smugly. “And I enjoyed it.” He darted a glance toward the floor. “Oh, yeah, I forgot there was a rug there now.”
“Are you sure you like it?” Andy asked hopefully, referring to the chenille area rug she’d purchased at Home Goods the day before. It was white with a yellow stenciled rose etched prominently in the center. Since the rose design was light and singular, she hoped that, overall, the rug was clean and simple without being too feminine.
“Yeah, it’s nice,” Tragan replied generically, but she wasn’t entirely sure he meant it.
“I thought it was bright and cheerful,” she said, subtly trying to influence Tragan’s opinion. “And it goes perfectly with the new throw pillows.” Maybe she was laying it on too thick now.
Tragan just shrugged and said, “S
ure, whatever you want, babe. It looks great.” Andy’s heart kicked up as she felt his hands come to rest on her hips. “Listen, do you need a ride to your sister’s today?”
“No, I’m going to take the bus. I want to hit Shadow Books on my way over to Emma’s house. It’s a used bookstore hidden on a tiny side street near Comm. Ave,” she explained, figuring that Tragan, like most people she knew, had never heard of it.
“Alone? I thought you and your sister were doing girl stuff all day. Isn’t shopping part of ‘girl stuff’?”
Unable to keep her hands to herself, Andy coiled her arms around Tragan’s neck and pressed her body closer. “Correction,” she replied, “we’re doing gender-neutral stuff all day. Emma needs help painting Jake’s room--that’s the big thing--and then we were thinking of trying this new French bistro in Newton. My mom’s watching Jake and Ben till tonight. And no, Emma isn’t a fan of Shadow Books. First of all, I think the owner has a crush on her, because every time she’s gone in with me, he sort of follows her around. He doesn’t act creepy or anything, but he trips over himself trying to talk impressively about literature.”
“And I guess she doesn’t like that?” Tragan asked with a sardonic expression.
“No,” Andy agreed, shaking her head. “Emma’s very low-key. Besides that, there was another time that she was there, flipping through a book and found a bookmark inside. When she pulled it out she discovered that it was actually somebody’s folded-up prescription for herpes medicine.” Tragan winced as Andy finished, “I guess whoever donated the book forgot to shake it out first.”
“Man…”
“I don’t think Emma has wanted to go browsing there ever since.”
“Okay, so the bus it is,” Tragan remarked glibly. “By the way,” he began and inched up closer, “this insanely hot girl I know has a birthday coming up in three days. Any idea what I should get her?”
“Um, no,” Andy said noncommittally, but with a somewhat sheepish grin. “Whatever you think.”