by Susan Ward
Poor, Rene. Poor, poor Rene. She’s going to be a grumpy, emotional mess when she returns after three weeks with her dad.
The phone rings. I reach for the cordless on the counter. “Hello.”
“I asked you to call me when you reached Berkeley. I don’t like it when you drive up the coast alone,” Jack says.
I roll my eyes. I’m about to say I didn’t drive alone, but I don’t know if that one will go over well today.
“I made it back to school in seven hours. A little bit of traffic. Not bad.” I take a sip of my soda. “I’m sorry I forgot to call. It’s just, there’s this stupid van parked in my carport. He does it all the time. I was going to call the management company to have him towed, only no one is there. Do you think if I call the police they’ll tow him?”
“Don’t get him towed,” Jack says. “Try leaving a note on his windshield. Most people will do the right thing if you just ask them to. Have you tried leaving a note?”
“Nope.”
“Leave a note. If that doesn’t work, then have him towed if he does it again.”
“OK, Daddy. I had a good Christmas with you. I’m glad I came home.”
“Come home more often. I like having you here. Just…” A long pause. “…no overnight guests. Show respect when you’re home. Leave that behind in Berkeley.”
My entire face covers with a burn. It’s the closest thing to a reprimand Jack has ever said to me.
“Don’t get me wrong,” Jack continues. “I like Neil. He seems like a good guy. Head on straight. Let me talk at him. Never talked back. Respectful. But there’s nothing wrong with taking your time in getting to know someone, Chrissie. That’s all I wanted to say.”
Oh thank God. My heart is racing. I’m relieved when I hear the click. I sink down onto my chair and take several rapid breaths to compose myself.
I stare at the kitchen, trying to remember what I came in here for. Find a pen, Chrissie. Write a note to the incredibly rude van owner. I reach into the drawer behind me and pull out a notepad.
I stare at the paper, tapping my pen. I know what Rene would write. Stay out of my spot mother fucker or you’re toast. But that’s not me. I tap the pen again. I write: Please don’t make me have you towed. Park somewhere else. Thank you.
I toss the notepad back into the drawer and grab the tape. I’m going to tape it on his windshield so it doesn’t blow away.
At the front door, I pull on my UGG boots, grab the house key, and make my way to the elevator and then the ground floor. Outside, I run a hand up and down my arm. It’s suddenly gotten chilly. I should have grabbed a sweater.
As I near the van, I pull a nice length of tape off the roll. I pass between cars to get to the windshield. I hear a sound. I freeze.
Crap, somebody is in the van. I stare at the closed side door. I debate whether to run, tape the note, or knock. I spring back. The rude van owner inside must have moved. It rocked a little.
I’m about to run back into my condo and forget the whole thing when, suddenly, there’s music from inside. Guitar. Oh shit. I know that riff. Some musicians can play a riff and have it be like a signature. I’d recognize this anywhere. I’ve definitely heard this musician before.
More than mildly pissed off, I pound on the side cargo door. Quiet.
I roll my eyes. “Don’t pretend you’re not in there, Neil. I heard you playing.”
A few seconds of silence, and then the door swings wide. Neil’s face comes into view. “Hey.”
Really, that’s all he has to say? Hey?
“Why are you hanging out in my carport? Why are you always stealing my spot?” I exclaim in unmistakable irritation.
Neil shrugs. “It’s complicated. Can’t you let it go at it’s hard to find an overnight parking place in Berkeley?”
“No. I can’t.”
I search his face. He looks so miserable right now that some of my temper cools.
He rakes a hand through his hair. “I really don’t want to get into it.”
I climb in, sitting on the bed in the van. “I’ve got all night. You’ve clearly got all night. Explain it to me.”
His eyes flash at the clearly all night remark. OK, that was a touch snotty. I look around the interior. Clothes. His musical gear. Books. Sleeping stuff. Is he living in his van?
I search his face. “You don’t have an apartment in Berkeley, do you? That’s why I never drop you off at home and why you can’t give me your number.”
He meets my stare. “No, I don’t.”
My eyes widen. “And you live in your van?”
Neil gives a short, rough laugh. “You make it sound worse than it is. I’ve been all across the country in this van. Betsy has probably been to more states than you have. I’ve slept in it hundreds of times. It’s OK.”
I frown. “This doesn’t make sense. You’ve got a good job. The university must pay you enough so you don’t have to live in your van.”
Neil sighs. “I’ve got bills. Big bills I want to pay off as quickly as possible.”
“What kind of bills?”
His eyes study my face. Every part of him screams he’d rather die than explain this to me.
He does another long intake of air. He lets it out slowly. “I told you, Chrissie. Shit got fucked up last time with my ex. Can’t we just leave it at that?”
My lids flutter wide. I stare at him, hard. “No. Not if I matter to you. Not if you want to stay friends.”
He shakes his head. He sucks in a full chest of air. “I have probation, restitution, and court fees I need to pay off. About another eight thousand dollars is left on my account. That’s why I’m really serious about not losing my fucking job on campus. I got it through county probation. I need to pay my fees so I can get off probation. Get back to Seattle. Get back my life. And worse than that, if I lose my job, I violate my probation and I could go back to jail.”
“Back to jail?”
Neil’s been in jail. Shit, do I even know Neil at all?
“I did thirty days in June at county,” he admits, with a reluctance webbed with something I can’t decipher.
“What for?”
He looks away from me. “I left the road to try to make it work, and I came home and found another guy in my bed.” He lets out a long, emotion-ragged breath. “I fucked him up pretty good. Only fight I’ve ever been in and I end up hurting him into a twenty thousand dollar hospital stay. He pressed charges. So I got thirty days in county, probation until my fees are paid, and ninety days of anger management.”
It’s too much to process.
His eyes come back, locking on mine. “That’s everything, Chrissie. You know everything.” His stare liquefies. “I didn’t want to ever tell you any of this. Can you blame me for not wanting to tell you this? It’s fucking humiliating.”
He looks so sad, so achingly sad. I can’t get my head around this. It doesn’t match the Neil I know. But then we’re all a little crazy when we’re crazy in love. I was certainly crazy over Alan.
I don’t know why I do it, but I move from my side of the van and curl into him. He instantly surrounds me with his legs and arms, easing me back against him. I feel a long, shuddering breath release from his chest.
He buries his lips in my hair. “I’m sorry, Chrissie. But I never lied to you. I told you I had problems. I was pretty fucked up.”
I melt into the feel of him, his hands gently caressing my arms, his lips in my hair. I should be angry that he didn’t tell me this before we got involved. I should be wary of Neil. I should probably end this—whatever we are— right now. I should do a lot of things other than what I’m thinking.
I turn in his arms until I can face him. “Grab your stuff, Neil.”
His green eyes go wide. “No, Chrissie. I’m not going to move in with you.”
I arch a brow. “And I’m not asking you to. But I’m not going to let you live in my carport. I have a couch. You can sleep there. I’ll get an extra spot from the management company for th
e van, tomorrow.”
“No.” He shakes his head.
“Neil, grab your stuff and stop being a jerk about this.”
I start grabbing at things. I don’t know what I’m rummaging through. It makes him move. It makes him stop me.
Once we’ve gathered some of his things, we walk in silence back to the elevator. I insert the key, turn it, and hit the call button.
I look over my shoulder at him. He looks emotionally frazzled, miserable, and a little overwhelmed.
“Why can’t you go back to Seattle, if that is where you want to be?” I ask.
The tic in his jaw twitches. “You can’t leave the state while you’re on probation. It’s a violation. I have to pay off my fees before I can move back and try to put something together with Josh and the guys again.”
I nod.
We step into the elevator. I hit the button for the top floor.
“Is this why you’re so uncomfortable around your family?” I ask. “The being in jail? The probation thing?”
He lets out a shuddering breath. “Partly.”
Partly? I wonder what else there could be.
I slide the key in the lock of my front door.
“I’m not staying here forever,” he says stiffly from behind me.
I make a face at him. “I’m not letting you stay here forever. We have a guest bath in the hall. There are linens in the closet. There’s the couch. Unless you’d rather take the floor.”
I go into my room and shut the door. It’s only nine, but I put on my pajamas and climb into bed anyway. I just lay there. I’m wide awake for hours. I look over at the clock. Crap, it’s 1 a.m. and I can’t sleep. I feel anxious and out of balance. A strange reaction to having Neil sleeping on my couch.
I roll over in bed and stare at the ceiling. We had a good night last night in Santa Barbara. At least I thought so. The sex was different than it was with…I stop myself before I think his name… but the sex was good in its overheated sort of exuberant in-artfulness.
I like Neil. I always have fun with him. Even though he drives me nuts sometimes. Like he’s now, doing nothing but sleeping on my couch.
Shouldn’t he have wanted, pushed a little, to be in here in my bed? We’ve had sex. What’s up with the couch?
I sit up in bed, push the hair from my face, and stare at the door. Maybe Neil thinks I don’t want him with me in my room because I made a point of offering him the couch. What’s the worst that could happen? He could say no?
I pad across the bedroom, open the door, and peek out into the living room. It’s dark. I can’t tell if he’s asleep. Neil is stretched out on the couch. He’s over six feet. That can’t be comfortable for him.
I switch on the hall light and make my way to the sofa. I can feel his eyes on me. So, he’s awake too. I settle on the arm of the couch, the opposite end from where Neil’s head lays, and set my feet in the space between his legs.
“This feels really stupid. Do you know that?” I say into the darkness.
Neil turns, sits up and switches on the light on the end table.
“I’m sorry,” he says.
I take a deep breath. “We’re sort of dating. We’ve slept together. It feels really awkward having you sleep on the couch.”
Neil frowns. “Do you want me to go?”
“No. Sleep in the bedroom. It’s dumb having you out here.”
He lifts both hands in front of me, fingers spread wide as he shakes his head. “No, Chrissie. I’m not doing the living together thing. Especially since I’m a charity case.”
“Neil, you are not a charity case. We’re good friends. Friends help friends. And I’m not asking you to do the living together thing.”
He shakes his head again. “No. I want to take it slow with you. I’ve been lying out here all night wondering if even the couch is a mistake. When things go too fast, they get too intense and all fucked up. I don’t want that. Not with you.”
I stare at him. Alan and me; the prototype of too fast, too intense, and all fucked up. Neil is right. We shouldn’t do this. Still, I really want him in my room and not out here. I like how I feel when Neil is close to me.
“Why don’t we just move you to the bedroom and see how it goes? You do your junk. I do mine. None of that relationship bullshit. Just two friends living together until you can get your shit together and go back to Seattle. Clear, defined arrangement…” I do a meaningful lift of a brow. “…with a few benefits for both of us.”
He laughs and rakes a hand through his hair. “It won’t work. It’s going to get fucked up and I don’t want to fuck up everything with you, Chrissie.”
“Then don’t fuck it up.”
He gives me another tired, ragged laugh. “This couch is miserable.”
I sink my teeth into lower lip to keep back my smile.
I stand up. “Come on, Neil. Grab your stuff, again.”
He lugs his possessions into my bedroom and sets them by the door.
“I’ll clear out a section of my closet and part of my drawers for you,” I say.
He shakes his head. “I don’t need closet space or drawers.”
“Well, I don’t want your crap sitting on the floor messing up my room.”
I climb into bed and wait for him.
He stares at me. “Why are you doing this?”
I shrug. “I don’t know.”
I watch him climb into bed beside me.
“I always get the left side,” I say, reaching over to switch off the light.
“I want to move slowly with you, Chrissie.”
“OK, we’ll move slowly.”
“I don’t want to mess up your life.”
“I’m just offering you a place to stay. Don’t worry it’s something it’s not. You’re not going to mess up my life.”
“Good night, Chrissie.”
He stays on his side of the bed, with a ridiculously large space between us. I can hear him breathing quietly, but he’s awake. Then he turns into my body. He kisses me beneath my hair on my neck. His arm slips around me. I scoot into him, my backside brushing him there. And that’s all it takes before Neil rolls me over and we start fucking again.
~~~
I lie on the bed, my cheek on the pillow, nose to nose with Neil.
“I don’t want to go,” Neil whispers.
“Then don’t go.”
“I have to. I have work today,” he says.
“Then go to work.”
“It’s kind of hard when you have a boner.”
I flush and bite my lower lip. “I’m a little sore.”
He makes a small pout, but his eyes are gleaming. He kisses me. “Sore, huh? Is it bad?”
My eyes round. “A little. I like it though.”
That makes him smile. Then, he rolls away from me, stretching back on his pillow and running a hand through his hair. He sits up.
“I’ve got to hop into the shower and get out of here.”
He starts rummaging through his things for his work clothes.
“What are you going to do all day while I work?” he asks.
“Probably sleep. My classes don’t start until Wednesday.”
He laughs. “Fine. Gloat. Rub it in.”
He tosses his clothes on the end of the bed.
“Do you have juice? Coffee? Anything?”
I sit up. “Everything.” I watch him walk to the door. He’s butt naked. Jeez, he’s got a beautiful body. I like that there’s no ink on it. “Bring me some coffee.”
“You’re such a princess. You don’t even ask. You demand,” he says, but there’s a smile in his eyes.
I lay back in bed, curling around his pillow. The first night of being together—without being together—wasn’t bad. I start to doze, and then a door slamming jolts me awake.
I hear, from the living room, Rene exclaim loudly, “Oh fuck.” I sit up, reach for my shirt from the floor, and quickly pull it over my head.
Rene runs into the bedroom. She’s furious. S
he stops and stares at Neil’s pile of things by my door.
“What the fuck are you doing?”
I frown. “I thought you weren’t going to be back until tomorrow.”
She stares at me, hands on hips. “What is Neil’s stuff doing all over our living room and your bedroom? What’s going on here?”
“Neil is just staying here for a while,” I say matter-of-factly.
She drops heavily on the bed beside me. “Without asking me what I think, you’ve decided to move in Neil Stanton?”
I roll my eyes. “Jeez, Rene, you have guys overnight all the time. I don’t ever say anything to you about it.”
“I don’t have them move in.” Rene does a harsh shake of her head and then her eyes settle on me and widen. “I know you’re unhappy at Cal, Chrissie. But you don’t move into our condo some guy you don’t really know. This isn’t how you fix it.”
My cheeks burn red. Now I’m furious. “That’s not what I’m doing. I really like Neil.”
She gives me the look. “I can’t believe you did this.” She springs from the bed. At the door, she turns back to give me another heated, pointed stare. “This is fucked up.”
Rene slams the bedroom door behind her. From the hall I hear her scream, “Put on some clothes when you’re out of the bedroom.”
“OK Rene. Oh, and Josh says hi,” Neil bites off.
Silence. No-come back from Rene. She slams her bedroom door. In a minute Neil is in the room with me. He sets my coffee on the nightstand.
His face grows all serious and he sighs. “I don’t want to cause problems between you and Rene. Maybe I should move out right now.”
I stare up at him. I shake my head. “She’ll get over it.”
“It doesn’t sound like it’s going to happen anytime soon.”
“I don’t care, Neil. Stay.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
I sit in the passenger seat of the Volvo, staring at Rene as she fights her way through traffic toward campus.
“When are you going to get over this? It’s been four months, Rene. I’m really tired of you being pissed at me.”
Rene’s eyes flash. “How about when you have Neil move out?”