by Scott, Kylie
I lick my lips and think of all the other things I’d like to do with her. The visions flash across my sex-riddled mind in a series of delectable images.
Kissing her lips and finding out if they’re as soft as they look.
Tunneling my hands into her long golden hair, holding her to me.
Gripping her hips, digging my fingers into her curves.
Plunging inside her wet heat until we both lose our goddamned minds and forget all about being quarantined.
“Hello, Earth to Evan?” her sing-song voice takes me out of my sex-starved stupor. “I said, tomorrow we can meet downstairs at ten a.m. on the sidewalk. As long as we walk six feet apart, we can go to the store together.”
“Deal,” I agree immediately. That’s a couple feet closer to the woman I’ve been lusting after for four full days.
I can hardly wait.
CHAPTER 5
QUARANTINE: DAY 5
EVAN
SHE’S LATE. I CHECK MY cell phone for the umpteenth time.
10:15.
I sigh and pace the sidewalk in front of the building wondering if she’s going to stand me up like she did the other day. Then again, she didn’t actually stand me up. I had hoped she’d come out and chat with me. It was my own damn fault that my expectations were so high.
10:20.
Christ, where is she? My heart hammers away in my chest and annoyance fills my veins. I turn around and watch the streetlights change rhythmically from red, to green, to yellow and back through its rotation. It’s weird to look out on the streets of a normally bustling city to see it devoid of people. This area is usually packed with city slickers from all walks of life. Though it’s good that people are taking this virus seriously.
10:25.
I grit my teeth and run a hand through my hair. Just as I think she’s not coming, she flies out the door and stutters to a stop a few feet away from me.
“I’m here!” She pushes her shoulder-length golden hair out of her face. “I’m so sorry. I got carried away working and uh, yeah. I’m here.”
Boy, is she ever.
I scan her body from her tight skinny jeans that mold to every curve spectacularly up to a long-sleeve cardigan with a lace-trimmed camisole under it that leaves all kinds of cleavage for me to stare at. Her creamy skin is luminescent in this light making me want to touch and taste. On her feet are a pair of brown suede boots that go up to her knee, no heel. Smart. Perfect for walking.
“It’s okay. I understand, but give me your number, so next time I won’t worry.” I hold out my cell and wait.
She purses her lips as if she’s weighing her options before blurting out her number. I enter it in and then send her a quick text. Her phone buzzes from inside a brown suede slouchy purse that matches her boots. I can’t help but stare at her. She’s wearing a bit of makeup for the first time and it enhances her already gorgeous face. Pink glossy lips and rosy cheeks. Her eyeliner is done in that pointed cat-like style. Basically, she’s just topped off an already perfect masterpiece.
“You look beautiful.”
Her cheeks turn a brighter pink as a flush covers the exposed skin of her neck.
She sucks in both her lips and takes in my appearance rather shyly. It’s the closest we’ve been. What I wouldn’t give to take her hand and walk proudly down the street with this angel at my side.
“Thank you.” She blinks and looks away rather shyly which is surprising. This girl has been anything but demure, though I find it suits her. This shy nature. As if removing her from the safety of her home and balcony has brought out another side. A side I’m eager to learn more about.
“Shall we?” I motion toward the vacant street ahead.
She laughs and shakes her head. “The market is that way.” She points behind us.
“Shit. And I was trying to be all gallant. I should have checked Google maps for directions.”
Waving her hand, she spins around and starts walking. “I live here. I know where to go to shop. Follow me.”
“You got it, gorgeous.” I fall into step about four feet away, needing to be closer. A hint of lavender and fresh-cut mint swirls in the air around us. “You smell that?”
She frowns. “Smell what?”
“It’s like flowers. Lavender and maybe mint?”
“You’ve got a good sniffer.” She points to her nose. “My body wash and lotion.”
“It smells fuckin’ amazing.” I lean closer and inhale her scent deep into my lungs. Fuck. I can’t get enough.
Quickly she sidesteps off the curb and into the street. Shit, she shouldn’t be on that side anyway.
“Six feet, buster!” She reminds me while pointing a finger. “I don’t want your corona-cooties.”
Letting her get back on the sidewalk ahead of me, I switch our positions making sure I’m on the side of the sidewalk that’s nearest the street.
“Are we dancing now?” She eases closer to the buildings but once again, we’re only four feet apart.
Being two feet closer is a true win but I keep that tidbit to myself, so I don’t scare the woman away.
“Nah, I’m just making sure you’re on the safe side. My late mother would kill me if I didn’t treat a woman like you right.”
“A woman like me?” Her blue eyes are dazzling with mirth and her cheeks are still pink, but I gather it’s the nip in the air that’s giving her the rosy hue.
“Yeah, a good girl. A woman you woo and bring home to the family.”
“As opposed to a woman you just hit-it and quit-it with?” She cocks an eyebrow.
I suck in a sharp breath and hiss. “You caught me.”
She shrugs. “I get it. There are a lot of women in the sisterhood who do not do themselves any favors. Though I’m not opposed to a woman getting herself some if she desires it. Each to their own. I think it’s just there’s a different societal expectation for women than men. If a woman has a healthy sexual appetite and takes advantage of a consensual night of fun with a man she’s just met, she’s a slut or a whore. It’s bullshit.”
“And if a man does the same?” I prod, interested in her take. Especially since up until this past year I’d been a serious man whore myself.
“It’s just different. They’re slapped on the back by their buddies. And if a woman doesn’t put out within a certain number of dates, she’s a prude or a cold fish.”
“I can see that.”
Her eyes blaze a white-hot fire as she looks at me. I’m actually a little afraid for my life.
“I swear I don’t prescribe to that philosophy myself! Please don’t incinerate me with your laser eyes, princess.”
“Mmm hmm. Most people do. It’s unfair when you think about it. Women have the same sexual desires and needs as a man does, but we’re expected to hide that side of ourselves or push it out the door and try to find a happy medium between a slut and a prude. And then there’s the man’s take on sex. They want a lady to bring home to Mama, but they want a pornstar to fuck.”
“Jesus, how did we get here?” I laugh while once again discreetly trying to adjust my cock. The damn thing is all too happy to discuss ladies and pornstars, but preferably naked while in bed with Sadie.
“You’ve gotta admit it’s true.” She looks both ways and then darts across the empty street even though the red light is showing on our side.
I think about it for a minute or two. “Maybe. I mean it’s definitely got merit. Personally, I try not to worry about it too much and just go with what feels right when it comes to a woman I’m interested in.”
“And what type of women do you normally go for? The good time gal or the type of you have to put the time in to woo?”
“Honestly, before this past year, I was all about no strings attached sex. I haven’t taken a woman on a date in years. With my job, it’s hard to find a person that isn’t into me for the money or notoriety that comes with dating a pro football player.”
“Huh, I guess I never thought about it. Probably a
whole different world for you. I mean, if you’re good at your job, you probably make a good living.”
“I do.”
“Which means there’s likely women out there that want to hook their ball and chain to something like that. Interesting.” She says the words as if she’s cataloguing the information or taking notes.
“Not really. I’m not usually at a lack for company, but none of that company is worth spending time with. Other than a roll in the hay, you know?”
“Not really. I haven’t been sexually active since my last long-term boyfriend.”
I grind my teeth at the mention of an ex.
“Were you, uh, was it serious?” I follow her across another side street and keep pace with her shorter stature.
“Sean was killer in bed. Though I’m not sure we were actually compatible in any other way. My parents loved him though. Far more than I ever did.”
“So, you did love him?” The hairs on the back of my neck tingle and I start breathing deep.
“I wanted to love him. How about you? Ever been in love?”
“The only love of my life has been the game. I’ve lived football since I was a toddler. Dad had me playing from the time I could hold a ball. Took to it like a duck to water. I played all through grade school. Was scouted right outta high school with a full sports scholarship.”
“That’s awesome! Where did you end up?”
“It was. Life-changing. Living in Indiana, I wanted to get the heck away from snow and cold weather. Accepted the deal UCLA offered me. Moved to California and went to college.”
“Did you love it?”
“It was rough. Academics weren’t my go-to. Though the team had tutors available at all times. Coasted through college with a C average but was once again scouted by the NFL. Chose the Marauders because I wanted to stay on the West Coast. Much to my father’s dismay. He wanted me to play for Indiana, but I love the sun.”
“You must miss your family?”
“I do. My brother is a few years younger and often needs a little guidance. He had Mom the least amount of time so I try to be there for him any way I can.”
“That’s right. You said you lost your mom. I’m sorry, Evan. I couldn’t imagine what that would be like. My mother drives me bat shit crazy, but she means well and loves me to distraction. What happened to your mom?”
“Icy roads. She commuted to Indianapolis for work. Was a secretary for a law firm downtown. Got caught in bad weather. Ended up being part of a ten-car pileup. She was one of eight that died that day. I was fourteen and had just started high school. Curt was only nine. My dad has never been the same. Says he married his one and only love and he’d be her husband until the day he dies.”
“That’s heartbreaking for him and you and your brother.” She reached her hand out to take mine but then closed her eyes and pulled it away.
I wished she had forgotten about the six feet rule. After sharing, I could use her comfort.
“Yeah, well it was a long time ago and life goes on,” I say.
“That it does. Still, we should never forget. What was her name?”
“Why?”
“Because she lived and she still lives through you, your brother, and your dad. And I’d like to know a little more about the woman who made such a good man.”
My eyes tear up a little as my chest tightens painfully. “Isabella. Everyone called her Bella.”
“Isabella. A beautiful name.”
I nod and shove my hands in my pockets to not only ward off the chill but in order to not reach for her hand the way she did mine.
“Eureka!” she exclaims. “We’re here.” She points to the big Market sign about twenty yards ahead.
Right at the door is a store attendant wearing a protective mask. He has a bucket of them and hands one to every customer. Not that there are many people in sight. It’s like entering the Twilight Zone with everything so quiet and deserted.
“Keep for future use,” he tells each person as they walk in.
When we come to the door, he holds up a hand. “Can’t go in. We’re keeping the numbers down to only thirty or so people at a time. You need to wait over there. See the blue tape on the sidewalk. Stand on one of those lines and we’ll let you in after someone exits.”
We both take a mask, put it on, and stand on a blue line.
“Does this mask make my ass look big?” she jokes, but the smile doesn’t reach her eyes.
“Your ass is perfection.”
“Thanks.”
Someone walking on the opposite side of the street coughs and she flinches. We both do.
Shit just got real.
It is easy to pretend nothing much is happening when you are on the twentieth floor of a high rise, happily carrying on about your life. Safely away from interacting with the world at large. It is a far different story when you’re boots-on-the-ground, being told you can’t grocery shop without a mask, and that you must do so in small numbers.
“I’m scared.” Sadie’s eyes are on me, her hands trembling as she lifts them and crosses them over her chest. “This is all so…I dunno.”
“I wish I could hold you.”
“Me too. The thought that something as simple and everyday as grabbing a carton of milk and a loaf of bread could mean catching a super contagious virus that’s killed thousands is insane.” She turns around and faces the clerk.
More people stand in line on the blue strips behind us. It’s six people deep when two customers exit the store and we’re waved in.
Once inside, we each take a small cart and use antibacterial wipes that the store has provided on the handles and around the rim of the cart.
We pass by the grocery store clerks and I notice a five-feet-wide by three-feet-tall piece of plexiglass separating the clerk from the customer. That’s new. Kind of like sneeze shields when you go to a deli. Still, the whole situation is like something out of a sci-fi film.
“Evan…” Sadie’s voice is small, coated in concern.
“Just breathe through your mask and start with the cheese section. Everyone loves cheese.”
For a minute I watch her stand there and just breathe, then she straightens her spine and puts one foot in front of the other. There is no stopping this girl.
I’m proud of her. And grateful as fuck that I have her in my life right now.
* * *
SADIE
Okay. I can do this. After all, if football is Evan’s choice of sport, shopping is mine and shops are my natural habitat. Though online shopping and having things delivered to your door is my favorite, I love it all. The thrill of the hunt. The sheer joy of running down the perfect purchase. And sales! Nothing can compare to the rush of a bargain.
In this case, the purchase is cheese. First comes mozzarella because pizza is life, yo. Cheddar for when I get the nibbles, and also some Monterey Jack. Next come Kraft Singles because I’m apparently trying to relive my childhood.
“That’s a lot of cheese,” mumbles Evan, standing back the requisite six feet.
“Cheese is healthy.”
“Sure. Sort of. In much smaller quantities.” He grabs his own block of cheddar and a package of swiss cheese singles.
“We’re meant to be stocking up for a week or so, right?” I ask with a shrug.
He tips his chin. “Are you part mouse? Because if some small cute percentage of you is rodent, I think I’d prefer to know sooner rather than later.” He grins.
“Quitting football to go into stand-up comedy, I see. Can’t say I’m a hundred percent behind that decision.” I raise my chin trying to give my best haughty appearance.
“Got to have something to fall back on since you axed my singing career.” He chuckles. I can see it in his dreamy blue eyes. They’re a dark hue like the deepest, wildest uncharted parts of the ocean.
It’s hard to be scared when he’s making me laugh. Internally, of course. No need to actually encourage him. Being with Evan is like when you’re on a rollercoaster and about
to go over the edge. Your belly is a mess of excitement and you don’t know whether to laugh or shout. Exciting and scary and unexpected.
But we should just be friends. That would be wise.
I move my cart along, inspecting the pre-packaged deli meats, trying to focus. All the bacon is wiped out—not even one straggler. Hmm, ham sounds good, along with some salami. Both make for quick, easy snacks when I’m working.
Evan’s gaze flits over the cheese selection and he grabs two huge tubs of cottage cheese. Bleh. What’s that for I wonder. I move onto the next cold case while he all but empties out the cold cuts. All of that meat. He’s such a caveman. All brawny efficiency as he makes his way through the cold goods section. I can just imagine him hunting yaks or something in a fur mankini, striding across the plains with his spear in hand. And by spear I mean the actual weapon—that’s not a euphemism or anything. Keep your mind out of the gutter, Sadie.
Yes siree, he’d have a club in one hand, dragging me off by my hair to have his wicked way with me with the other. My skin instantly turns to goose flesh at the thought. Rough, uncivilized sex with Evan. His big strong hands positioning me, holding me firm, ready to take his huge throbbing—
“Hello? Sadie?”
I blink. “Hmm?”
“You buying yogurt or what?”
“Right. Yes. Yes, I am. Love the stuff.” And that is a total lie. Yogurt is gross, right up there with cottage cheese, but I grab a tiny container to save face and push my cart into the fruit and vegetable section. I glance over my shoulder to see he’s smiling while putting a couple huge containers of the plain stuff into his cart.
Damn, I can’t believe he busted me having sex thoughts. How embarrassing. Hopefully he just thinks dairy goods get me overly excited. Even that would be less humiliating than him knowing I was dwelling on his manhood. What we can summarize from this is that when it comes to Evan, I am apparently a terrible friend.
I grab some strawberries and blueberries. A couple of red apples and a ready-made salad. A packet of carrots and celery sticks with some hummus. Yum.
“C’mon. You cannot be serious.”
“What?” I look back over my shoulder at him.