Take Me To The Beach

by K. L. Grayson, Karina Halle, A. L. Jackson, Marni Mann, Monica Murphy, Devney Perry, Kristen Proby, Rachel Van Dyken

  She swallows, nods slightly. Then straightens up in her seat. “Tell me something nice.”

  My mouth quirks up into a wane smile. “You look gorgeous.”

  “Even though I probably have mascara running down my face?”

  “You look gorgeous,” I repeat, squeezing her hand with each word’s beat. “Extremely…bee-utiful.”

  She giggles. I fucking love that sound.

  “You better bee-lieve it,” I add, egging her on. “Because I bee-lieve in you.”

  “Oh, stop.”

  “I can’t. You’re just so bee-coming tonight, I might bee coming on you afterward.”

  “Oh my god!” she shrieks, her face going beet red. “You didn’t just say that.”

  “Bee—”

  “Don’t say it!”

  “—lieve it.”

  She groans. I know I’m being silly and cheesy as all hell but at least it has her smiling. I’ll do anything for that smile.

  When we get to Mr. Chow, just off of Wilshire Blvd., she’s back to her usual good spirits. The valet takes the car gleefully, a fan of vintage Camaros, and I take Marina’s hand, holding it tight as we walk into the restaurant.

  I’ve never been to this place before but it’s pretty much what I expect. It’s busy, the tablecloths and walls are all white, there are lots of people waiting for a table, dressed to the nines, and everyone seems to know each other.

  Luckily, the man at the front isn’t snobby in the slightest, neither are any of the waitstaff. We’re seated in a nice corner spot across from someone I recognize as a movie producer with his very young wife or girlfriend.

  “I think I see Jennifer Aniston,” Marina whispers over her expensive martini, staring at the entrance.

  “Look at you, all star-struck even though you’ve lived in LA for how long now?”

  “Hey, if you don’t get star-struck by people every now and then, what’s the point in living? I’m not going to pretend to be too cool for school.”

  “Neither am I. But the people I see in LA are rarely the ones I care about. All mine are in New York, or back in England.”

  “That’s because all your idols are musicians.”

  “If I was ever lucky enough to meet David Gahan or Jimmy Paige or Tom Waits or Nick Cave, then yeah, I would be star struck.”

  “I would love to see that,” she says, giving me a small smile. “See Mr. Cool lose his cool.”

  “Mr. Cool?” I laugh. “You must have short-term memory because yesterday I completely lost my shit. Not one of my finest moments, I must say.”

  “I don’t know,” she says rather coyly, “something good came out of it.”

  My skin feels impossibly warm at that.

  She didn’t regret the kiss.

  Thank fucking god.

  “Excuse me,” a voice says to the right of me.

  I tear my eyes away from Marina and look up to see a stunning brunette with golden tanned skin and a mega-watt smile that she’s directing at me, dressed in a chic black dress that shows off her legs.

  I glance quickly at Marina to see if maybe she recognizes her and actually it seems like she does. She’s wide-eyed and curious as she stares at her.

  “Uh yes?” I say to the woman.

  “Are you Lazarus Scott?” she asks.

  “Uh, yes?” I say again, like it’s a question.

  “Sorry to be so nosy,” she says, smiling warmly at Marina before turning her attention back to me. “I overheard them calling your name for the table. Are you the poet Lazarus Scott? Like, on Instagram.”

  “That’s me,” I tell her. This is always awkward. Well, okay it’s not normally awkward when a gorgeous woman approaches me like this but it’s awkward now with Marina here. I don’t want her to feel left out.

  “Wow, I thought so,” she says, brushing her stick-straight hair behind her ear. “I didn’t know what you looked like so I hoped it was you. I don’t mean to interrupt your date.” She glances again at Marina and smiles.

  “It’s not a date,” Marina blurts out. “We’re just friends.”

  Okay then. In case I was wondering where we stood, there we have it.

  “Oh, okay. Cool,” the girl says. She sticks out her hand to me. “My name is Colleen. It’s nice to meet you.”

  I shake her hand, my grip firm enough to leave an impression, but as hot as she is and as much as Marina made it clear we are just friends, I’m not interested.

  “Lazarus. Nice to meet you.”

  She takes her hand back, that big smile still on her face as she looks between the two of us. She points behind her. “Well, I’m going to go back to my table over there. Having a girl’s night with a few friends. Sorry for interrupting and I’m so glad I got to meet you.”

  And with that and a little wave from her, she walks away to the back of the restaurant.

  Marina is staring at me with an expression I can’t read. Is she…impressed?

  “You know you’re getting famous when the famous are coming after you,” she says under her breath before she sips her drink.

  “Famous?”

  “You didn’t recognize her?” she asks incredulously.

  “I don’t know, she kind of looks like everyone else in LA.”

  “That’s Colleen Croix. She’s a big deal. She’s like in every movie now.”

  “I stand by what I said.”

  She leans across the table slightly. “She wanted you. Like, very obviously. You should go over there.”

  “No,” I tell her.

  “No? Why not?”

  I study her carefully. I don’t know what she wants, if she’s pretending not to be interested in me because she thinks it will scare me. Or if she actually isn’t interested. So I decide I’m just going to tell her the truth.

  “You say we’re just friends,” I tell her. “But we are on a date. And that means something to me. As did that kiss yesterday. I’m not going to go talk to that chick because I’m not interested in her. Right now, I’m interested in you.”

  She watches me for a moment as she carefully swallows her drink. I think she’s trying not to choke on it. It’s not unusual to say what’s on my mind but I’ve never said anything about her quite like this.

  Of course now she’s not saying anything in response, so there’s probably a reason why I never say shit like this.

  But I’m just going to fucking own it.

  “Look, Marina, I—”

  Her phone starts ringing from her clutch on the table, rather loudly.

  She jumps, spilling a bit of her drink and then quickly fumbles for it, glancing down at the screen. She frowns and holds up a finger, motioning that she’s going to take the call.

  “Naomi?” she says into the phone. “What’s wrong?”

  I watch Marina and wait. She worries her lip between her teeth, nods at whatever Naomi is saying. “Oh fuck, Naomi. I’m so sorry. I…yes I know. You did the right thing. No, don’t do that. Promise me you won’t do that. Okay, look I’m going to come and get you right now.”

  Fuck.

  “No, I’m just with Laz.”

  Just with Laz.

  Ow.

  “But I’ll be there in like forty-five minutes, okay? You shouldn’t be alone right now. No, it’s fine, really. Okay I’ll be there soon.”

  Marina hangs up the phone and gives me an overly apologetic look.

  “Laz, I am so sorry.”

  “It’s fine.”

  “It’s not fine,” she says. “She just came home and found another woman in bed with Robert.”

  “Jesus. What a piece of shit.”

  “I know. She kicked them out but she can’t be alone.”

  “Marina, I completely understand.” I look around for the nearest waiter and signal for him to come over. “We haven’t even ordered the main courses yet, we can just pay up and go.”

  “But the appetizers,” she protests feebly. “We won’t be able to eat them.”

  “It’s just food,” I tell he
r. “Your friend is more important.”

  “But you’re my friend too.”

  I nearly snap at her but I manage to rein it in. “I know. And I’m sure if the roles were reversed you would be coming to my side. You’re a sound friend, you know that? No one is going to fault you for always wanting to take care of people.”

  So I get the bill, pay for the drinks and appetizers we didn’t get a chance to eat, and then I drive Marina home.

  She’s silent for most of the drive, on the phone texting Naomi, maybe even Jane.

  By the time I pull up to her house, I’m exhausted by everything all of a sudden.

  “I am so sorry,” she says to me again, taking off her seatbelt, her features shadowed by the streetlight.

  “Me too. We’ll just…”

  “Do it again,” she says quickly. “Not at Mr. Chow. Let’s just watch a movie. Call it date three point five.”

  “Shouldn’t it be date two point five?”

  She sighs, looking overly forlorn, which I’ll admit makes me feel a bit better. “I was really looking forward to this.”

  I try and brush it off. “Yeah, well, shit happens. I—”

  Before I can finish my sentence, she twists in her seat and leans across the center console, grabbing my face.

  She kisses me so hard I feel my heart still with the shock of her impulse, her fingers pressed into my jaw, one hand going through my hair and giving my strands a sharp tug.

  I moan into her mouth, my tongue sliding in against hers as the kiss deepens. I’ve been needing this so fucking bad and now that I have it again, I don’t want it to ever stop. My dick is already so hot and hard in my dress pants, it’s almost painful.

  “Marina,” I whisper harshly, impatient, trying to undo my seatbelt so I can kiss her better, harder, messier. I want to throw her back against her seat, get between her legs, feel every inch of that decadent dress and her soft skin underneath.

  But then she’s pulling away and staring at me with huge eyes, her mouth wet from my mouth. “I have to go,” she says quietly.

  Then she quickly gets out of the car, shuts the door behind her and heads through the gate down the side of her house.

  Gone.

  Holy fuck.

  What the fuck just happened there?

  And holy fuck…

  When can that happen again?

  Marina

  World in My Eyes

  * * *

  Where the hell am I?

  I stare up at a ceiling. It’s painted blue, framed by crown mouldings.

  Naomi’s place.

  I lift up my head and look around. I’m on one couch in the living room and Naomi is on the other. I’m dressed in my velvet dress from last night. Naomi is in her robe and pajamas. A sea of wine bottles and tissues fill the floor between us.

  Memories of last night come flooding into my brain.

  Last night was a mess.

  I felt so horrible for everyone.

  Horrible that Naomi had to walk in on her husband screwing some random woman in their bedroom.

  Horrible that I had to bail on Laz in the middle of our third date, in one of the nicest restaurants I’ve ever been to, while Laz was looking so devilishly handsome I could hardly think about anything but him.

  And then there was that kiss.

  I don’t know what came over me.

  That never happened during any other third date I’ve been on.

  But he looked so disappointed at how the night went, even though he was trying hard not to show it. I wanted to tell him that…

  Hell. I wanted to show him how much I fucking want him.

  Because I do.

  He’s all I want.

  The moment he showed up at my door, he stole my damn breath away. Even though I was still reeling over the phone call with my Aunt Margaret, suddenly he was there like a movie star, a rock star, like that Mr. Mysterious I thought he was the very first night I laid eyes on him.

  And while I think I prefer him all scruffed up and beardy as he often is, it was a nice change to see that stunning jawline of his. He’s just so fucking beautiful, even now I feel the heat flaring up between my legs. Parts of me I thought were dormant are coming alive again. And they’re hungry as hell.

  Naomi groans, bringing me out of my head. Now if only my body would cooperate. I can’t help my friend if I’m tangled up over my feelings for Laz.

  I get up and check on her. She’s back asleep, having rolled over.

  I grab a throw from her linen closet and put it on top of her, then get some Advil and water and put it on the table next to her. Part of me thinks I should stay with her but we stayed up until six in the morning and she hadn’t stopped crying once, so I think she needs a lot more sleep than this. I just hope that Robert isn’t that much of an asshole that he’ll come back.

  According to Naomi though, she grabbed the gun from her closet and threatened to shoot his dick off, so I don’t think Robert is coming back here anytime soon.

  With my phone dead, I have to wait until I’m in my car and halfway home before my phone gets charged and when it finally is I have a million texts from Laz and a voice mail. I assume the voice mail is from him.

  I listen to that first.

  “Hey, sorry if I’m flat-out harassing you at this point, I’m just having trouble sleeping and wondering if you’re okay. Hope Naomi is okay too. Okay, sweet girl, I’ll talk to you tomorrow. Oh yeah, call me when you get this.”

  I don’t think Laz has ever left me a voice mail before. I’m beyond touched.

  He called you sweet girl again, I think to myself, grabbing onto that phrase like it’s something I can touch, holding it close to my heart.

  I’m in over my head here.

  I should probably head home and have a good think about this before I call him back, get my priorities straight, figure out what’s going on between us. Are we still friends? Are we dating now? Are we still learning from each other or has this whole experiment morphed into something else entirely?

  I don’t have any of the answers. Funnily enough, I don’t think Laz has the answers either. We’re both in this together, completely clueless.

  As soon as I’m parked in the driveway and wave hello to Barbara peering through the blinds, I walk to the backyard to check on the girls and call Laz.

  My heart is beating hard and fast, the blood whooshing loudly in my head.

  I’m actually giddy just placing a simple phone call to one of my friends.

  What is happening?

  “Allo?” Laz says, his rich accent coming through and immediately putting me at ease. “You called.”

  “I don’t think we’ve ever spoken on the phone before,” I say and my voice sounds foreign, high-pitched, like it belongs to someone else.

  “No, we haven’t. First time for everything. How are you? I was worried.”

  “I know, I’m sorry. The phone died and then Naomi started hitting the wine.”

  “How is she?”

  “Horrible. Just horrible. I want to kill Robert for doing that to her. Not that I’m surprised at all because I knew he was a fuck-face like that, but I mean, they just started going to couple’s therapy for this exact thing.”

  “What a twat.”

  I laugh softly. “Yes. He is a twat. I always forget you have the best insults.”

  “Pithy insults are one of England’s greatest exports. That and the Spice Girls.”

  I smile into the phone at that, then start laughing again once I remember all the things he was saying in the car last night on the way to dinner, the bee puns.

  “So,” he says, clearing his throat. “About last night.”

  “Yeah. I know. I’m so sorry.”

  “Marina, please stop apologizing. I forbid it. It happened, it’s fine. It’s more than fine, you did a good thing. But you’re also going to make up for it.”

  I swallow hard. “Really?”

  “Yes,” he says. “Tonight I’m coming over to your place
and we’re going to drink beer, make popcorn and we’re going to sit on that sagging couch of yours and watch something. There may or may not be groping and/or kissing involved.”

  Well, I’m speechless. I didn’t think he’d come out and say it but then again he surprised me last night when he said he was interested purely in me. Especially after he was hit on by Colleen Croix. I mean, I know I’m not ugly by any means but next to her, I look like a pig with a blonde wig. I’m basically Miss Piggy. She would wear a velvet dress too.

  “I scared you didn’t I,” he says quietly after a moment.

  “I’m not scared. I’m caught off-guard. There’s a difference.”

  But yeah. A bit scared.

  “It’s better I tell you now so that you have time to prepare. Although I suppose that might mean you have time to prepare some kind of defensive system. I’m picturing a wall of bees around you, ready to do your bidding.”

  “Not if you behave,” I warn him playfully.

  “Me, behave? If I do recall correctly, it was you who kissed me last night. There was a lot of tongue involved too.”

  “Perhaps we’ll consult your Magic 8 Ball.”

  “I already did. It says I can do no wrong.”

  “It does not say that,” I say just as a beep of call waiting comes through my phone. “Hold on, Laz, got another call.”

  I peer at the screen expecting to see Naomi’s picture on the screen. Instead it’s my aunt.

  Oh fuck.

  “Marina,” she says as soon as I answer. “It’s your father, he’s…in a bad way. I just came by to drop off groceries and he’s lost his mind. I might have to call the police, I can’t handle him like this.”

  Fuck, fuck, fuck.

  I try to think. “Uh, no, don’t do that. Don’t do that, he can’t afford to get in trouble with them again. Where are you? What’s he doing?”

  “I’m outside the house. I’m leaving, I don’t know what to do. I think he might get violent.”

  “You know he’s not like that.”

  “Well he’s your father Marina, come deal with him. Lord knows I’ve had to deal with everything ever since your mother died.” She hangs up.

  Everything inside me shrinks and shrivels and dies somewhere.

  Brutal, Aunt Marg, that was brutal.