by Gia Riley
But, when I went to tell Wirth that I was ready to leave, I overheard him talking to someone. The bits and pieces of the conversation I heard weren’t good. In fact, it sounded like he didn’t like the girl very much. If he didn’t like her though, then why was he on the phone first thing in the morning? And why hasn’t he told me about her?
Secrets.
I hate secrets.
Wirth’s obviously hiding something. While I don’t think he’d do anything to purposely hurt me, I don’t know him that well. Maybe that’s why I’m afraid to tell him the truth. The kiss wasn’t my fault, but he might not agree.
All I can do is assure Wirth that Hollis and I are nothing more than friends, that there won’t be any more drunken kisses, touches, or bed-sharing.
Something tells me words alone won’t be enough though. So, before rehearsal starts, I send Wirth another text because actions speak louder than words.
Chandler: Can we go to that show tonight?
“Chan.”
Turning around, I find Wirth at the door, summoning me over with a wave.
I search for Ms. Sue. She’s in the studio but still on the phone, so I jog over to Wirth, hoping I don’t get caught.
“I’m supposed to be stretching,” I tell him.
“A rule-breaker,” he says with a smile.
His choice of words only makes me feel worse. I’m not a rule-breaker. I’ve never gotten in trouble, and I’ve never cheated on anyone. Yet here I am, sneaking a conversation with Wirth right in front of the choreographer after I kissed our roommate in the kitchen last night.
Who the hell am I?
“New York will change you,” my old roommate, Ruthie, told me. “City life isn’t like country life. It’s a totally different way of living.”
I assured Ruthie there wasn’t a chance New York would change me. I went on and on about how I’d still be the same Chandler the next time she saw me.
Clearly, I didn’t know the power of this city. I feel myself changing by the second, and I wonder if I’ll even recognize myself at all in a month or two.
“Are you asleep, standing up?”
“Sorry,” I whisper. “Why are you sneaking in here, Wirth?”
“I just wanted to make sure you were okay. I know you’re nervous. And sleep-deprived.”
He hands me a paper bag, and I already know there’s a bagel inside. I can smell it.
“You didn’t have to get me this.”
“Well, someone had to pee,” he jokes.
I’m such an idiot, but I couldn’t think of any other believable excuse for running away than having to use the restroom.
“Sorry,” I tell him again.
“Stop apologizing.” He glances at his phone and gives me a look. He must have just seen my text. “You really want to go out tonight?” he asks.
“What else do we have to do?”
“I dunno. Sleep?”
“I can sleep when I’m dead.”
I realize how horrible my words are when he stuffs his phone back in his pocket and looks down at me with sad eyes.
“That was insensitive of me.”
“It’s just a figure of speech,” he says, looking away. “I’ll get the tickets.”
I pull his hand out of his pocket and lace my fingers with his. “Wirth.”
He still won’t look at me. “It’s not a big deal, Chandler.”
I might not know Wirth all that well yet, but I do know he’s a lot more sensitive than he looks. I guess it’s a musician thing. And that’s why I’m positive he’ll be devastated when I tell him about the kiss. He won’t think it’s even a little funny, and he certainly won’t be amused.
Ms. Sue turns on the warm-up music—her way of saying it’s time to get to work—so Wirth leans down and kisses the top of my head. It’s quickly becoming my favorite gesture.
“I’ll see you later,” he says as he wraps his arm around my back and squeezes my ass in front of everyone.
I hear a few snickers behind me, and I feel my face getting redder.
“I can’t believe you just did that,” I tell him.
“It’s the outfit. You look hot as hell in it.”
A leotard and tights aren’t exactly my idea of sexy, but that little butt squeeze probably did as much for him as it did for me. My eyes are zoned in on his crotch. I’d blame it on the height difference, but I know that has nothing to do with it.
Wirth seems pleased with himself and probably smirks the entire way to his soundboard while I’m more than a little sad that I might never find out what’s beneath those jeans of his.
Why did Hollis have to go and kiss me?
As I walk across the studio to put my phone away, I type out one more text to Hollis.
Chandler: We need to talk.
I don’t expect an instant response, but my phone lights up with his name.
Hollis: Thanks for last night.
I’m not sure if he’s talking about the stupid kiss or the fact that I took care of him, but I’m afraid to ask. And there’s no use in trying because I can’t have a real conversation right now.
Chandler: No problem.
“Chandler, would you care to join us?”
Ms. Sue is less than amused, and I hate that I’m on the verge of screwing up the biggest opportunity of my life. I try my best to stop thinking about Wirth and Hollis and focus on the dancing. But it isn’t easy.
Wirth
I got tied up around lunchtime and didn’t get to grab something to eat until late afternoon. By the time I was free, Chandler was already back in class. I hate that I didn’t get to stop by and see her, but it actually worked out to my advantage. I was able to secure the tickets for the show and grab her some flowers on the way back. With this being our first official date and all, I want to make sure I get it right. And I figure these flowers are a nice start.
After the show, I plan on taking Chandler straight to my room. Tonight, we aren’t settling for a lumpy couch. I saw the way she was staring at my dick this morning. There’s no doubt in my mind that she wanted me as badly as I wanted her. If she’d had five more minutes before class, I’d have taken her into one of the equipment closets and peeled those sexy dance clothes off her body.
As I stand here, outside her studio, with the flowers hidden behind my back, I’m still thinking about that outfit.
Isla waltzes out of the studio first, still wearing very little. I’m guessing the choreographer needed her for blocking, or she wouldn’t be here with the new girls.
“Wirth?” she says like she’s surprised to see me standing here.
I guess it is pretty unusual. I’ve never lingered around the studios until Chandler came to town. Normally, as soon as I was done for the day, I would grab my stuff and go straight home. On the few occasions I went somewhere after work, I was usually with Hollis, Tom, or Fisher. Sometimes, all three.
“Hey, Isla. How are you?”
She leans in to hug me, and I realize how much taller she is than Chandler. I barely have to bend over, and it feels all wrong. Plus, she doesn’t have those smoking curves like Chandler.
“Who’s the lucky one?” she asks when she sees the flowers.
“Chandler,” I tell her.
I have no secrets. And she probably already figured it out when she saw both me and Hollis waiting here yesterday.
“The roommate? Interesting. I guess I thought you’d go for someone with a little more experience.”
By experience, if she means history, then she has it all wrong. I’ve spent a lot of time with Isla. At one point, she was probably my best friend. But nothing more.
She’s a great girl, and I’d be lucky to have her, but she was too close to me. She knew too much. And, when I was around her, all I thought about was what I’d lost.
It wasn’t her fault that I associated her name with the worst time in my life, but I did. I couldn’t help it. I’m sure that’s why I slowly forged some space between us, and we hung out less and less. Eventu
ally, it got to the point that we only saw each other at work.
“We had some good times, Wirth. We could get back to that place.”
She’s right; we did have good times. There were a lot of late nights that I might not have survived if she hadn’t seen me through them. But that’s all they were—nights. I was never meant to be with Isla.
I’m sure of it when I see Chandler walking toward me. Nobody’s ever given me the rush she does. And I swear, when she kisses me, I see the next fifty years of my life, all of which have her in it.
That’s a big fucking step in a short amount of time—I realize that—but after losing my mom, I learned to grab what you want and hold on tight. Maybe that’s how I got into so much trouble in Nashville, but I don’t see Chandler biting me in the ass the way Shannon did.
“Hey,” Chandler says as she gives Isla a warm but hesitant smile.
Isla gives her a little wave and then leans in and hugs me, making a point to whisper good-bye in my ear. She’s trying to get a rise out of Chandler, and from the looks of it, it’s working.
The cheerful smile Chandler greeted Isla with slowly slips off her face. There’s a sad look in her eyes, and I can’t figure out why. Isla isn’t who I want.
Once we’re alone, I say, “Look at me, Chan.”
She turns her head, still defeated.
“Isla isn’t my type. You have nothing to worry about.”
“Why not? She wants you. And she’s gorgeous.”
“Well, we don’t always get what we want,” I tell her.
With a straight face, she says, “How the hell did I?”
I can tell you how.
Taking a step closer, I swat at the tassel on top of her hat. “You wanna know how?”
She nods, making it flop back and forth. It’s ridiculous but growing on me. “You almost licked the window on an airplane.”
“Wirth,” she groans. “I wasn’t going to lick the window!”
“You’re right,” I tell her. “You were just checking for cracks.”
She exhales loudly, rolling her eyes at the same time. I love when she gets all feisty, but I decide to put her out of her misery and hand her the flowers.
Her annoyance disappears instantly. “What are these for?”
“Tonight’s our first date. I wanted to start things off with something special.”
She gives me a weird look. One that says, You’ve lost your mind. “I thought last night was a date. We had a conversation. You insisted that staying in was still a date.”
I remember. How could I forget that kiss with her on top of the granite? Or when she snuggled up beside me on the couch?
“It was a date. This is the first time I get to take you out though. It’s the same but different.”
She smiles and then reaches for my hand, clutching the flowers in the other. “Let’s go home.”
Home. God, I love the sound of that.
The last few months in Nashville never felt like this. No matter if I came home at five in the evening or two in the morning, I always felt like a stranger in my own place. When Shannon was with me, it only made it worse.
And, now that I’m back in New York, I realize I never would have found happiness as long as Shannon was in my life. I’d have been on edge, worried about stupid shit because she made me insecure and crazy. I was constantly afraid I’d blow an opportunity or say the wrong thing to a potential rep. I wasn’t living. I was existing.
Do I miss performing? Hell yeah.
You can keep the rest of it though. Especially if that means I can’t have Chandler, who’s breathing unusually hard as I unlock the apartment door.
“You okay?”
“Fine,” she says, staring at the knob.
Maybe she has to pee again, so I quickly turn it, letting her go in ahead of me.
Once inside, she scans the kitchen and then the living room. Hollis is on the couch with a blanket over him. He looks half-dead, but at least he’s awake and out of bed.
I half-expect Chandler to grab her thermometer and scan his head again, but she doesn’t even say hello to him. Instead, she makes a beeline to her room and closes the door.
“Are you two fighting or something?” I ask Hollis.
They didn’t talk this morning, but that was because Hollis was still asleep.
“Not that I know of,” he says, still staring at the TV.
Maybe Chandler needs a minute to decompress after class, so I let her do her thing and grab a soda out of the fridge.
Flopping on the chair in the living room, I take a better look at Hollis. “How ya feeling?”
“I’ll live,” he mutters.
“That’s good. I just hope Chandler doesn’t get it. She’s stressed out enough, playing catch-up, and they haven’t even gotten to the staging yet. That’s a whole different ball game.”
Hollis sits up and runs his hands through his hair. “Listen, about last night.”
I can see him sweating from here, and I know it has nothing to do with the fever he might or might not still have. He thinks I’m going to lay into him for finding Chandler in his bed this morning. Had he been healthy, then yeah, I’d really fucking care. But the guy was obviously as sick as a damn dog.
“Lie back down, Hollis. I don’t care.”
“You don’t care?”
He thinks I’m crazy. Maybe I am, but I’ve been around Chandler long enough to know she’s not the type to sleep around, especially right in front of me. Her intentions are as pure as they get.
“Chandler was worried about you,” I tell him. “It’s not like anything happened. You were out cold. So was she. I trust you guys.”
He gives me a hesitant nod but seems to calm down. Poor guy probably had himself worried all day over nothing. He should know me better than that.
Chandler makes an appearance in a robe with a towel on her head and the flowers in her hand. After she puts them in the biggest glass she can find, she grabs a bottle of water from the fridge. I watch as she pops two pills and then rubs the back of her neck. I still don’t think going out is the best idea, but she said she wanted to go, and I don’t want to force her to stay in again if she doesn’t want to.
“Flowers?” Hollis questions. “Are you two okay? You had a fight about it, didn’t you?”
“I told you, everything’s fine, Hollis.”
“Well, flowers usually mean you’re apologizing for something.”
I’ve handled Shannon, and Isla knows I’m with Chandler, so I’d like to think I’m in the clear. Nothing’s going to mess things up for us. Not if I can help it.
“Can’t a guy buy some flowers for his girlfriend?”
He coughs and almost drops his drink on the floor. “Girlfriend? When did that happen?”
“Last night,” I tell him. “You were at Fisher’s when we made it official. I figured Chandler had already told you.”
“Wow,” he says.
That’s one way to put it.
Chandler
I’m so queasy; my stomach’s churning. I can’t tell if it’s my nerves or the beginning of what Hollis had last night. When I glance in the bathroom mirror, I realize I’m pale, sweating for no reason, and on the verge of tears. There’s no way I can get sick tonight.
Wirth used up his entire lunch break to secure the tickets and buy me flowers. I can’t let him down, not on our first real date, so I decide talking to Hollis might be the only way to salvage the night. The germs won’t go away, but maybe clearing the air will ease my nerves. Because pretending Hollis isn’t here is killing me almost as much as this virus.
Only problem is, I don’t know how to get Hollis back here without Wirth knowing, especially when they’re watching TV together.
A text is all I can think of, so I fire one off, trying to sound as calm as possible.
Chandler: Meet me in my room. Be casual. Don’t make it obvious.
Hollis: Now?
Chandler. Yes, please.
I’m putting one la
st curl in my hair when the bathroom door opens. Hollis slips in and then closes the door behind him.
Fumbling with the curling iron, I singe my neck before I finally set the stupid thing down on the edge of the sink. “This isn’t casual, Hollis!”
“I slowly walked back here,” he tells me.
“I said to meet me in my room, not the bathroom. You just made things look really weird.”
He shrugs and glances at the sash holding my fluffy robe around my body. All he’d have to do is give one little tug, and my entire body would be exposed. The thought of that is both terrifying and exhilarating.
“Well, you sounded like it was an emergency, Chandler. And I knew you were in here, so why would I go to your room?”
“Because that’s where I asked you to go!”
“I’ll remember that next time,” he says like it’s no big deal for us to be in the bathroom together while I’m not even dressed.
“There won’t be a next time,” I remind him.
“Fine. What’s up?”
What’s up? Everything is up. Including my temperature. I don’t know how he can be so calm right now.
“Breathe, Chandler.”
I’m trying, but this is too small of a space for a conversation of this magnitude. I need more room between us, a couple of more feet that’ll allow air to get into my lungs without passing over him first.
“Just please tell me you haven’t told Wirth yet.”
Hollis sighs, and judging by the way he runs his hand over his face, like he was hoping he wouldn’t have to tell me whatever he’s about to say, I know I need to brace myself.
“It almost slipped a couple of minutes ago,” he says.
My heart thumps wildly in my chest. This is exactly what I was afraid of. Hollis owes me nothing. We’ve only been roommates for half a second. Wirth has been his friend for a long time, so obviously, his loyalty is to him, not me.
“Please tell me you didn’t let it slip.”
I’m the one who needs to tell Wirth about the kiss. If I don’t, he’ll think the worst of me.
“I didn’t. Well, not exactly.”
