by K. C. Crowne
“This is such a bad idea,” she murmured as I pulled the straps of that green dress down over her slender shoulders, her breasts rising and falling with each excited breath she took. “Like, the worst idea of all time.”
“Nah,” I said, pulling the top of the dress down and exposing the black, lacey bra she wore underneath. “I’m thinking this is the best idea either of us has had in a really, long time.”
We kissed, her mouth opening and my tongue slipping between her lips. There was no doubt in my mind she’d taste as sweet as she always had.
“I’m in charge of the event of a lifetime out there,” she said, taking her lips from mine as I reached under the cup of her bra and squeezed her breast. “And here I am, making out in the freaking coat closet with the biggest prick in Colorado.”
“Biggest prick in Colorado?” I asked. “I mean, I know it’s pretty big, but I’m not sure I’d say the biggest.”
She flashed me a smirk and called me a little shit. But that expression quickly turned to one of wide-eyed pleasure as I teased her nipples through her bra.
“Come on,” she said. “I don’t have time for foreplay.”
“There’s always time for teasing,” I said, reaching under the hem of her dress, squeezing the soft skin of her thigh before putting my hand over her panties. I pressed down, and a sigh poured out of her.
“Oh my God,” she said. “Please, I can’t take anymore . I need it.”
“You need what?”
Gia responded by grabbing my cock through my slacks. “This, you dumbass.”
I laughed. “Then it’s all yours.”
“Finally, you say something that doesn’t make me want to punch you in the face.”
She opened my belt and zipper, reaching down and wrapping her hand around my cock.
“Now,” she said. “Fuck me, Gavin. Fuck me like you used to.”
A boom of thunder sounded, and I opened my eyes. I was back in my house, still seated on the couch. But I had the hard on to end all hard ons. I sighed, as I should’ve known better, should’ve known what would happen if I were to indulge in the fantasy of a hot hookup with the woman I couldn’t stop thinking about.
It was time to make the call. After one more sip of whiskey, I put the number into my phone and dialed. One ring, then another, then another. For a moment, I worried she might not pick up, that she was screening her calls.
“Stone Events. Our commitment to throwing you the party of a lifetime is as solid as a rock. This is Gia Stone, how can I help you?”
“Cute slogan,” I said.
A long pause followed. “Please don’t tell me this is who I think it is.”
“Wow, that’s a hell of a way to talk to the guy who’s about to take you to Vegas.”
She sighed with exasperation, making me grin. “Gavin, I told you…wait, how the hell did you get this number?” She didn’t give me a chance to respond, instead yelling Kenna’s name. There was a laugh in the background, and Gia didn’t need to tell me who it belonged to.
Then there was a sigh. “You’re really not going to give this up, are you?”
“Hey, I waited two weeks to call you. Does that sound like something a guy who gives up easily would do?”
“I guess not. But seriously Gavin, I was happy to pull you out of that little jam with Mariah. You know I fucking hate that bitch. But I can’t go to Vegas with you. I’ve got this huge event coming up and—”
“No, you don’t!” Kenna yelled in the background.
“Kenna!”
I laughed. “Sounds like you’ve got a saboteur in your midst.”
“Sounds like you’re right. God, she won’t shut up about how I need to take this trip.”
“Maybe she’s right? And what has Annie said about it?”
“What do you think? She’s totally on my side. Always has been.”
“Then you really think it’s the right call to not go with me?”
Another sigh, the sigh of a woman who was resigned to making a decision she wasn’t sure about. “Let me think about it.”
“Don’t mean to pressure you, G, but there’s not that much time for thinking. Today’s Thursday, and the plane leaves Saturday morning.”
“And that means I get a whole day to think about it.”
“I’ve got a better idea – give me your address. I’ll plan on coming to pick you up, and if something happens and you can’t go, just text me and we’ll call it off. Otherwise, I’ll be there early Saturday. ”
“Wow,” she mused. “You know, I’m starting to think being a doctor isn’t your true calling. You’re pushy enough to be a killer salesman.”
“Maybe. But you’ve seen how good I look in scrubs.”
She let out a dry laugh. “Give me until tomorrow, okay? I need to move my schedule around and tons of other stuff.”
“Okay – noon tomorrow.”
“Whatever time I feel like tomorrow, Gavin.”
She hung up, and I felt unsatisfied, wishing I’d been able to get her to commit to going. I didn’t have much time to think about it. My phone buzzed in my hand, the number not one saved in my contacts.
“Dr. Gavin Davenport.”
“Hey, Gavin? Or, um, Dr. Davenport? This is Kenna, Gia’s assistant.” She spoke quietly as if trying to hide the fact that she was calling.
“Oh, hey Kenna. What’s up?”
“Just called to let you know I’m sending you her address so you can pick her up on Saturday. And I’ll make sure she doesn’t make any last minute additions to her weekend schedule.”
I laughed. “You serious?”
“Dr. Davenport—”
“Gavin, please.”
“Gavin, this woman works harder than I’ve ever seen anyone work in my life. She’s crazy! And as much as she doesn’t want to admit it, she needs a freaking vacation. So, you’re taking her on one. Got it?”
“Got it,” I said through a grin.
“Hey, Kenna?” Gia called in the background. “Who are you talking to?”
“Okay,” she said. “That’s my cue to hang up. You’re about to get a text, and I’ll take care of the rest. Just be here Saturday morning, got it?”
“I’ll be there. And good luck.”
“Oh, don’t worry about me.” Then the line went dead.
Moments later the text came with Gia’s address. I grinned, bouncing the phone in my hand. I was ready for a weekend to remember.
Gia
At that moment, I wanted to scream. So I screamed, “Kenna!”
The whip crack of my voice filled my apartment, but it didn’t come close to matching how peeved I was at that moment.
“Don’t you even think about it!”
Kenna called to me from the other room. “Just, um, give me a second!”
Kenna was a sweetheart and a hell of a worker, but she’d never been a good liar. I zipped from the guest bedroom – the room I’d repurposed into an office – and hurried into the living room. Kenna was standing in the middle of the room, her thumbs a blur as she typed a text.
“Don’t do it!”
“Almost…and…done!”
I stopped a few feet from her, staring at the big grin on her face as she slipped her phone into the back pocket of her black skinny jeans.
“Please tell me you didn’t just do what I think you did.”
“Save you from having a total nervous breakdown? Because I’m pretty sure that’s exactly what I did.”
“You have no idea how off-the-mark you are with that little assessment,” I grumbled.
“Yes, I sent your address to Dr. McSexy. And I told him you were on for Saturday.”
I let out the groan to end all groans, shuffling my feet in place. “I can’t believe you did that.”
Not even wanting to look at Kenna, I turned around and stepped into the kitchen area, opening the fridge and grabbing the bottle of white that I’d opened the other night.
“You know, being the gracious host that I am, I’
m obliged to offer you some wine. But after what you just pulled…” I shook my head sadly.
“Is that sauv blanc?” she asked, craning her head to see the bottle, not paying my words any heed “Yeah, I’ll definitely have some.”
I mumbled under my breath as I grabbed two glasses from the cupboard. I set the glasses on the bar that separated the kitchen area from the living room and noticed how much of a mess the space was.
My apartment was a small-ish, but a cozy little two-bedroom in an apartment complex near Lake Jameson – the lake that Nickle Creek, more of a river really, flowed into. The view from the living room balcony was one to die for, the sun setting between the white-capped mountains in the distance always stealing my breath. The other bedroom was used as my office – made more sense than to rent an entire space just for me and Kenna when we were both perfectly capable of working here. Sure, it meant Kenna was a regular fixture at my apartment, but I didn’t mind that one bit. Aside from times like this, she was both a killer employee and a great friend.
“I need to clean this place,” I said, my eyes on the mess as I walked over to Kenna with the glasses of wine. “It’s a total mess in here.”
“Oh no.” Kenna took the wine. “Don’t you even try it.”
“Try what?”
“Working is your preferred way of avoiding dealing with whatever problem actually needs attention in your life. And if you don’t have work work to distract yourself with, you’ll make it up.”
“Now, that’s not true.”
Kenna sipped her wine as she flashed me a coy smile.
“OK, maybe it’s a tiny bit true.”
“If you say so.”
“But speaking of distractions,” I said. “What about you? You’re the one trying to distract me from this completely insane move you just pulled.”
Kenna stepped back to open the door to the balcony. “Come on – I think this is a wine and sunset kind of a conversation.”
Without saying a word, I glanced pointedly around me at all the work documents.
“We’re good for the weekend,” she said. “No events until next Tuesday, which we’re already prepared for, and we’re all caught up for the next few days – at least until Monday. No excuse to not come out here and relax for a little bit.”
I sighed, an anxious feeling forming inside me as I realized she was right – there wasn’t a bit of work I could use to take my mind off Gavin.
“Fine,” I said.
We stepped out onto the balcony, a chill wind hitting us and causing shivers. I reached up and flicked on the space heater and felt the warm air wrapp around us and making me feel nice and toasty. We sat down in the cushy chairs, covering ourselves in the blankets I left out for fall nights.
“Take a look at that,” she said, nodding toward the sunset. “It’s got a way of making everything else seem so small, right?”
I had to admit, she wasn’t wrong. The sun was halfway below the Rockies, the sky around it a deep, wild orange, red flaring through the orange like fire. A few wisps of clouds were airbrushed here and there, the first evening stars flickering above.
“A gorgeous sunset, a little wine, some good company…what else do you need?”
“How about you explaining why you gave my freaking address to Gavin?”
“Because he needed to know where to pick you up, of course.”
I cocked my head to the side, my eyes flat and my mouth curled up into a sneer.
“Okay, okay,” she conceded, curling up into the blanket. “I might’ve overstepped some boundaries.”
“Overstepped? A tad bit of an understatement.”
“But it’s for the best. Because I know better than anyone you need some time off,” she argued. “You’re working your ass off, babe! Pretty soon you’re going to turn around and see nothing there, and you’ll be like, holy crap, my ass is gone – I literally worked it off.”
I laughed. As peeved as I was at Kenna, she always had a way of making me chuckle. “Okay, maybe. But this sure as shit isn’t the way to do it. Gavin and I going to Vegas together…not a good idea. Not even in the slightest.”
“Alright, I get that you have a history with him.”
“A long history.”
“Not quite,” she said, lifting a finger. “You have a history that happened a long time ago. That’s a subtle but important difference. It’s not like you guys were married and got divorced or something.”
The mention of marriage in the same proximity as Gavin was enough to make me shudder.
“And that means the time is ripe for you guys to bury the hatchet and move on. I mean, that’s what he wanted to do, seemed like.”
“It’s not that easy,” I said, setting down my glass of wine after taking a long sip. “What he did to me…Let’s just say if you were in my shoes you’d understand where I’m coming from.”
“Ok then, here’s the million-dollar question,” she said. “What happened?”
I opened my mouth to speak, but not a single word came out. I didn’t have the slightest idea where to begin. “I don’t even know if I want to talk about it.”
There must’ve been something in my tone of voice, because a serious look formed on Kenna’s face. Shit. Had I made it too obvious that something major had happened? I hated letting emotions slip – it was an easy way to look weak. A woman in my position meant looking weak wasn’t a luxury I could afford.
Kenna put her hand on my arm, giving it a squeeze. “What happened?” she repeated softly.
At that moment, I had two choices. The first was to open up, to tell Kenna all about what had happened between Gavin and me all those years ago. It would hurt like hell, but maybe getting it all out there would do me some good. Or I could clam up, keep it to myself like I’d done for the past seventeen years.
As good of a friend as Kenna might’ve been, I didn’t have to think too hard about it. “It’s nothing. I’m just not crazy about the guy.”
She gave me a look, as if she wanted to let me know she could see right through me. “Alright, alright, I won’t push anymore.”
I sipped my wine, my gut tense, hoping she’d drop it. I knew better, though.
“But whatever happened between you and Dr. Handsome-as-eff doesn’t mean you can’t have a fun weekend in Vegas. Hell, ditch the dude and play some blackjack, see one of those shows where they have the bears that ride around on the little bicycles.”
“Bears on bicycles? Ken, it’s Vegas, not a circus.”
“Can you tell I’ve never been?” Her eyes flashed, as if something had just occurred to her. “Or hey, I’ll take your place. Just a thought.”
She was joking, but the idea didn’t seem all that bad to me. I tilted my head back and forth in deliberation.
“Oh my God!” she shrieked, giving me a playful shove. “You were seriously considering it!”
“I mean, why not? I don’t want to go, you clearly do. Makes perfect sense to me.”
“I don’t even understand this,” she said, shaking her head. “Why did you bid on him if you didn’t want to go?”
“He asked me to bid on him. You know that woman who kept bidding against me? That’s his ex-wife.”
That piqued her interest. “Gia, you have to tell me the story. Come on.”
I shook my head, taking a quick sip of my wine just to buy myself a few moments. “It’s too much to get into. Just…you know what? I think I need to start packing.”
She cocked her head to the side. “Are you serious? Now you’re going?”
“I mean, I haven’t decided. But I should at least be packed if I change my mind, right?”
Kenna gave me a look that was both confused and suspicious, like I was working some angle she needed to figure out. “Um, right. You want some help?”
“Nah, I can handle this. You’ve been stuck here for long enough. Go home and get some relaxing in.”
A beat of silence hung in the air, and I could sense she was still trying to figure me out. She
watched me for a moment, then shrugged.
“Alright. But if I hear you’re planning on backing out of this once-in-a-lifetime trip, I will not be happy.”
“I said I’ll think about it.”
Kenna tossed back the rest of her wine, set down her glass, and began collecting her things. “I don’t know what happened between you and this guy, but it can’t be worth feeling this stressed out.”
“I’m not stressed out, just…thinking about stuff.”
“Well, think whatever you need to in order to get your butt to Vegas. Trust me – it’ll be fun. See you later.” She waved before heading out, leaving me alone, glass of wine in my hand.
I felt totally overwhelmed. Not knowing what else to do, I refilled my glass and went back out onto the balcony. As soon as I sat down, a strange urge gripped me – an urge to play a certain song.
This is so stupid, I thought, shaking my head. I’m only thinking about it because of him.
With a frustrated sigh, I took out my phone and opened Spotify. From there, I typed T-L-C into the browser bar and hit search. The band TLC came up and in their top tracks was the one I was looking for.
Here goes nothing. After a moment’s pause, I hit play. The moment the track started, I was right back to the day it happened.
I’m in my childhood bedroom in Denver, my legs pulled up in front of me, my arms wrapped around them as I sit on the bed.
It’s three weeks after graduation, and Gavin Davenport has just ruined my life forever.
TLC’s “Waterfalls” is playing from the crappy three-CD player I bought with money earned from my part-time job at the Gap. My tiny attic bedroom is covered in posters, either bands I like -The Spice Girls, TLC, Tupac- or bands whose members I have major crushes on – N’Sync, The Backstreet Boys.
Tears are streaming down my tomato-red face – I’m crying my freaking eyes out.
And it’s all because of him.
“Fucking prick!” I want to scream the word, let it blast from my lungs. But I’m so heartbroken that it only comes out in a defeated whimper.
