by Nikki Ash
“There’s a Greek restaurant at the end.” I point in the direction of where it’s located.
“Mmm… I love gyros.” She waggles her brows. “Let’s do it.”
We order our food, then find a table outside.
“Tell me something about you,” I say, taking a bite of my chicken gyro.
“I love reading.”
I snort. “No shit. Something else. Something I don’t already know.”
Georgia thinks for a moment. “I’m obsessed with The Fast and the Furious movies. I watch them at night when I can’t sleep. I think I’ve seen each of them at least a dozen times.”
“Those are the ones with that guy who died, right? Paul something or other…”
Her eyes bug out. “Paul Walker. And yes, those are them. Haven’t you seen them?”
“Nope. Victoria wasn’t really a movie person. She preferred all those reality shows…”
“Okay… but you haven’t been with her in over a year. How have you not seen any of those movies?”
“I guess I’m not a sit-down-and-watch-a-movie-by-myself kind of guy.”
“We’re rectifying this tonight,” she says, her tone dead serious. “I declare tonight a Fast and the Furious movie marathon night.”
When we get to the condo, she puts away all of her farmer’s market findings, while I get us set up in the living room at the coffee table. I was nervous that after the way I acted last night, things would be awkward between us, but I should’ve known they wouldn’t be. Georgia isn’t the type to hold a grudge.
“Today was nice,” she says, sitting next to me. “Thank you.”
“You don’t have to thank me. Friends don’t thank each other for hanging out with them. I had a good time too.”
We watch the first movie, and then the second, and while we’re on movie number three—technically it’s number four because she insisted we skip number three—something about them needing to be watched out of order for it all to make sense—Georgia’s stomach grumbles. “I think we missed dinner.”
I glance at the time on my phone. “I think you’re right.”
We head into the kitchen to see what we have to make. I’m scouring through the cabinets, ready to settle on PB and J, when she says, “How about we make a flatbread? We can use some of the veggies I bought at the farmer’s market.”
“Sounds good to me.” I close the cabinet.
She grabs a bunch of stuff from the pantry and fridge and gets to work making the dough. Apparently she found a recipe online and bought the stuff to make it but hasn’t gotten around to it yet.
Once the dough is rolled out—that part was all me—and put on the wooden block, she starts slicing—and snacking on—the fresh mozzarella.
“What toppings do you like?” she asks, popping a slice into her mouth.
I laugh at the fact that she’s eaten more of the cheese than she’s put on the flatbread. “Anything.” I steal some of the cheese from her and place it on top of the dough. “I’m not picky.”
She chops up a tomato then takes a bite of one of the slices. “Oh my God, try this.” She grabs another slice and brings it up to my lips. I open my mouth and she feeds me the tomato slice. When she doesn’t retract her hand quickly enough, I playfully nip at the tips of her fingers, making her shriek with laughter.
“Not cool,” she says with a laugh, placing the tomato slices on top. When she’s done, she adds some basil then puts it into the oven and sets the timer. “Twenty minutes.” She hops onto the counter. “What should we do while we wait?” She glances around like a bored kid, making me chuckle.
When she reaches for another piece of mozzarella, an idea comes to me.
“We could play the food game.”
“What’s that?” she asks, looking intrigued. The woman loves her food.
“You never played it as a kid?” I thought everyone did… When she shakes her head, I explain, “One person closes their eyes and the other feeds them a piece of food. The person being fed the food has to guess what it is. If they guess it correctly, it’s their turn to feed the other person the food.”
“What happens if they guess wrong?”
“They have to go again.”
Her eyes light up. “This sounds like fun. I’ll go first!”
“No way. I mentioned it. I go first.”
She pouts playfully. “Fine. I’ll close my eyes. I know food anyway, so I’ll guess right.”
She closes her eyes and I dash to the fridge to see what we have. I consider going with the hot sauce just to fuck with her, but instead go with something a bit more enjoyable.
“All right, open up.” She opens her mouth and I slide the spoon between her lips.
Her face immediately scrunches up. “It’s lemon juice.” Her lips pucker and she coughs slightly. When she opens her eyes, she glares. “That was horrible.”
“Hey, it could’ve been worse.” I laugh. “I almost went with the hot sauce.”
Her eyes widen. “I would’ve killed you.” She jumps down. “Close your eyes. My turn.”
I do as she says and a minute later, she’s telling me to open up. I smell it before it enters my mouth. Cocoa powder. The spoonful is filled so high, I choke on the powder, my eyes opening in time to see plumes of it hitting her in the face. She coughs and splutters while cracking up laughing.
“Did you feed me the entire container?” I ask, spitting that shit out into the sink before grabbing a bottle of water and taking a large sip.
“Hey, cocoa powder is nicer than lemon juice!” She continues to laugh, and fuck if her laugh isn’t the best thing I’ve heard in a long time. Her face is lit up and happy, and she looks so damn carefree. It’s not often I see this side of her, but I fucking love it.
After going a few more rounds, where I make her eat mustard and honey, and she forces me to eat soy sauce and butter, the timer goes off for our flatbread.
Once she’s drizzled some balsamic vinegar over it, we slice and plate our food, then settle back onto the couch to continue our movie marathon. The flatbread is delicious and between the two of us, we devour the entire thing.
A few hours later, in the middle of the fourth—or is it the fifth?—movie, I hear the faint sound of snoring. I glance over at Georgia, who’s snuggled up against my side, her face resting against my shoulder, and find her sleeping. Somewhere along the way, we ended up cuddled under a blanket together. I consider moving her to her room, to her own bed, but selfishly don’t. I don’t question myself—not wanting to have to consider the answer—as I shift us so we’re both lying across the couch, with her head now tucked into the crook of my neck, and fall asleep to the sound of Georgia snoring.
Georgia
“What are you doing?” Chase asks, stepping into my bathroom. We’ve just gotten back from having breakfast and going for a walk on the pier and are hanging out until we have to head over to Lexi and Alec’s place for the barbecue. “And why do you look like an alien who invaded Earth?”
I glance at him through the mirror and laugh. “I’m giving myself a facial. Want one?” It’s meant as a joke, but I shouldn’t be surprised when Chase shrugs and steps into the bathroom.
“Sure, will it make my face all smooth?”
“As a baby’s butt,” I joke.
“I’ve never felt a baby’s butt,” he says, taking the tube of face mud. “What do I do?”
“First, wash your face with warm water.”
He does as I say, then turns to me. “Now what?”
“Now, this…” I squirt a glob out and smear it across his forehead, down the center of his nose, and along the tops of his cheeks. He has scruff along his cheeks and jaw, so I don’t bother putting any there.
“Put it all over,” he says, going cross-eyed as he tries to look down. “Maybe it’ll make my beard soft too.”
“Okay.” I snort.
When I’ve covered his face completely, he looks in the mirror and smiles. “Take a picture with me.”
“What?” I squeak. “No!”
“Yes,” he says, pulling his arm around my neck and bringing me in front of him. He grabs his phone from the pocket of his sweats and snaps a picture. “This is totally Instagram worthy.”
He types into his phone. “What’s your name on there? I can’t find you.”
“I only have one for my business. I never really do anything worth posting…” And I don’t exactly have many friends to follow or who would follow me.
“We need to change that. You’re hanging out with me now. Everything we do is worth posting.”
I shake my head and laugh. He’s such a cocky ass. And sweet, and sexy, and the perfect human bed, I think to myself, remembering this morning when I woke up, lying on the couch in the comfort of his arms, both of us wrapped up in a blanket like we were burritos. He opened his eyes and smiled and my heart damn near stopped in my chest. I’ve never fallen asleep with a man before, but it’s something I definitely want to do again. Too bad it won’t be with Chase since he’s off-limits… The thought feels like lead settling in my belly. Do other guys cuddle the way Chase does? Are their arms as strong and comforting? I guess there’s only one way to find out—actually get out and meet someone.
“It’s as hard as cement,” Chase says, poking at his face while he stretches his mouth open and closed, making the mud crack.
“That means it’s ready to be washed off,” I tell him through a laugh. Hanging out with Chase is never boring. I hope whoever I meet is fun like him. I can’t remember laughing as much as I have since I’ve been hanging out with him the last few days.
“We should go swimming.”
“I’m not sure the association will be happy with us rinsing our faces off in their pool.”
Chase cracks up. “After we rinse off. We have a few hours before we have to go to your sister’s for the barbecue.” He grabs a couple of washcloths and dips them under the water, then hands one to me.
“Wow,” he says, admiring his face once the mud mask is all off. “You’re right. My face is smooth. Now, get a suit on, so we can go swimming.”
I give him a two-finger salute and walk out of the bathroom. “Yes, sir!”
“That’s what I like to hear,” he says, following up his words with a hard slap to my ass.
“Ow!” I mock glare. “Keep your hands to yourself, or I’ll slap you back.”
“Don’t tease me,” he jokes with a wink.
After I’m in my bathing suit and cover-up, I meet Chase in the living room. He’s sporting a pair of black board shorts and is shirtless, with a towel slung over his shoulder. I try to ignore how solid his body is, but it’s so damn hard—pun not intended. Alec and Robert are the only two guys I’ve really paid attention to recently. And while Alec is like all muscular, and Robert was all… not, Chase is perfect. It’s obvious he takes care of himself.
“Ready?” he asks, a smirk splayed across his lips.
Ugh, he totally caught me checking him out. I really need to stop doing that.
“Yep.”
We walk down to the pool, and since this complex is mostly people in their twenties and thirties, there are a few people lying out, and a couple in the pool, but other than that, it’s quiet.
We grab two available lounge chairs, and Chase throws his towel onto his, kicking his Nike slides off.
I take a deep breath and pull my cover-up over my head. I usually only wear my bikini when it’s just Lexi and me at our parents’ pool and we’re lying out and tanning—well, I’m tanning, Lexi just burns. When we go to the beach or pool with other people, I tend to wear my one-piece or tankini. I don’t know why. Maybe it’s because I’ve never been comfortable with anyone paying attention to me, but now… it’s time I made some changes. The other night at the club when I was dressed up, I felt good… sexy. And not because guys were checking me out, but because I felt pretty and feminine. I go jogging several times a week and have a nice body, so why cover it up all the time?
When my bikini-clad body is exposed, I glance down to make sure all the important parts are covered, and when I look back up, Chase is staring at me—and not like a friend.
“Is that new?” he asks, his voice gravelly. I know we’re just friends, but I like that I have the ability to make his voice change. I’ve spent years hiding, and Robert barely paid attention to me. And with that thought, I vow to stop thinking about Robert. He’s in the past and doesn’t deserve a place in my present or future thoughts.
“No, I just don’t usually wear it. Wanna swim laps?”
Chase clears his throat. “Yeah, sounds good.”
Enjoying the fact that he’s shocked at my bikini, I saunter past him, swaying my hips. I know I’m playing with fire, but the way Chase looks at me—even if he doesn’t want to—makes me feel confident and sexy.
“So, it’s like that, huh?” he calls after me.
I don’t turn around, so when strong arms cage me in from behind, I shriek. “Chase!” I yell. “What are—” But before I can finish my sentence, he’s hauling me over his shoulder, fireman style—pun intended—and running toward the pool. He leaps—yes, with my one-hundred-and-thirty-five-pound ass in his arms, he leaps—and drops us into the cool water.
When I pop up, pushing my wet hair out of my face, I lock eyes with him. “You’re a dead man,” I warn him.
“You’ll have to catch me first,” he taunts, taking off toward the deep end with me following after.
We spend the next couple hours swimming and messing around in the water. We swim laps and race, and then spend some time in the hot tub, until Chase reminds me if we’re going to get to my sister’s on time, we need to get out soon.
After I’m done showering and getting dressed, I check my emails, finding several from clients requesting work. Usually I don’t have more than a couple, but as I scroll, finding one client who wants to know if I’m okay since I didn’t respond within a few hours, I’m shocked by how behind I am. I never get this behind.
I keep scrolling and see I haven’t checked my emails in a few days. I’ve been so busy with Chase I haven’t had time to get work done.
I should probably feel guilty about that, but honestly, I don’t. It felt good to get out and have a life. And the entire time—aside from that moment at the club—I didn’t feel stressed. I make a mental note to do this more often. Maybe not with Chase, since eventually he’ll want to go back to hooking up with women, but with myself. Lexi might be busy, but that doesn’t mean I have to be holed up. It’s time I find a life for myself.
“Oh my goodness! Let me see my niece!” I say, snatching Abigail from Alec’s arms. She’s five months old and so freaking plump and adorable. I inhale her sweet scent and my heart skyrockets out of my chest.
“I missed you so much,” I tell her, even though it’s only been a little over a week since I’ve seen her. The one time I stopped by the gallery to see Lexi, Abigail was home with Alec since he was off work.
I sit us on the floor, so we can play with her toys. She smiles brightly and coos as she drops to her knees and makes like she’s going to crawl away.
“Is she crawling?” I ask in amazement over how quickly she’s growing up. One day she was this tiny little helpless baby and now she’s giggling and cooing and moving all around.
“Not yet,” Lexi says, sitting next to me. “We think she will be soon. She rocks on her knees, but doesn’t actually go anywhere yet.”
“She’s so precious,” I tell her, running my fingers through Abigail’s soft baby hair.
“She is,” Lexi agrees. “Can I talk to you for a second?”
I glance over at her serious face. “Yeah, sure.”
“Outside?”
“Okay.”
She tells Alec we’ll be back, and then we head out to her backyard. The second the door opens, the smell of saltwater hits my senses. It’s been a while since I’ve been to the beach. I should ask Chase if he wants to go soon. The thought immediately has me mentally berating m
yself. He probably has other friends he wants to hang out with. I can’t monopolize all his time.
“What’s up?” I ask, having a seat on one of her lounge chairs.
“Chase texted me yesterday.”
“Okay.”
“He implied maybe something was wrong… between us, I think. Afterward, he kind of took it back, but I think he only did that so he wouldn’t get in the middle. Is everything okay between us?”
A part of me thinks it’s really sweet that Chase texted Lexi, but another part of me really wishes he had left it alone. I didn’t confide in him for him to tell Lexi.
“We’re fine. I don’t know what Chase said, but I was just having a bad moment, and—”
“Georgia, please don’t lie to me, or play it off.”
“Look, I was upset that you bailed a couple times. I hadn’t seen you in a while and I missed you. It’s stupid and I vented to Chase, but it’s not your problem. I was honestly just having a bad moment.”
Lexi’s mouth twists into a frown. “I’m sorry,” she says, taking my hands in hers. “I’m still adjusting to everything and—”
“You don’t have to explain yourself. I’m happy for you. You found the love of your life, found your calling with the art gallery, and you have a beautiful baby…”
“Finish your sentence.”
Tears fill my eyes, and I try and fail to blink them away. “And it’s everything I want,” I breathe.
“Oh, Georgia.” Lexi pulls me into her arms and hugs me tightly. “You will have all of that. You already have the career of your dreams, and you’re the reason why I even have the gallery. You just have to get out there so you can find someone to share your life with. It will happen.”
Her words mimic my earlier thoughts. In order for it to happen, I have to get out and make it happen. I’m not going to meet anyone sitting in my room. The other night at the club was a little hard, but I think the more I go, the easier it’ll get. I’ve just spent so many years staying away from huge gatherings, I’ve gotten used to being alone, or being with only my family.
