In Other Words

by Jennifer Woodhull

  “My friend and I were wondering if we could get a picture, if it’s not too much trouble. We’re up for a few days from Kingsville, down near Corpus Christi? Anyway, folks back home would never believe we met a real life pro ball player.” The girls stand closer to each other and put on pouty smiles.

  “Sure thing, ladies. Dexter,” he turns to me and hands me the girl’s phone. “Would you do the honors, bud?”

  “Sure.” I wince. Inwardly, I’m on high alert for anything inappropriate with these two when he’s supposed to be crazy about Clair. I stand and hold up the phone.

  Cole stands between the blonde and the redhead, putting an arm around each girl. They each put a palm on his chest and I snap a photo. Then, they press in closer, each kissing one cheek, and I snap another.

  I hand the phone back, and the blonde thanks me as she and her friend look at the photos.

  “Thank you, Mr. Bright.” They reply almost in unison.

  “You’re welcome, ladies.” Cole smiles at them as he sits back down.

  “Come on, let’s go back to the Holiday Inn Express and post these,” the blonde tells her friend.

  Her friend puts an arm around her, low on her hips, practically grabbing the girl’s ass as they walk away. At the last minute, she turns and puts a hotel card down on the corner of the table.

  “Yeah, let’s,” then she looks right at Cole before they walk away. “Room two fourteen, by the way, in case you’re interested.”

  “Wow, that was just…wow.” Tabitha shakes her head when the girls are gone.

  “Yeah, pretty crazy stuff, huh? You should see what happens during the season…or during the playoffs. It gets pretty nuts.” Cole slugs back his beer.

  “Are you okay with taking photos like that with fans, though? I mean, how do you think Clair would feel seeing those pics?” I can’t help but ask. “Or seeing that,” I gesture to the key card.

  “Well, see, here’s the thing,” he leans across the table. “Sinclair and me? We’re not public yet. I was one of the Dallas Sentinel’s Hottest Bachelors of the Year last year. If I start telling people to back off because my girl wouldn’t like it, then the press will start sniffing around to find out who I’m dating. I don’t want to put her through all that until it’s unavoidable.” He doesn’t break his gaze from mine, almost as if his words are a challenge.

  “That’s…incredibly sweet.” Tabitha looks at him with the softest, most appreciative of expressions.

  I want it to be true, but I’m not quite sure if it is.

  I hit the men’s room before we leave, and when I return to the table where Cole and Tabitha are sitting, the dishes have been cleared. I notice the hotel key is missing too.

  I find myself worrying it might be in Cole’s pocket, and hoping against all hope it’s not.

  CHAPTER 17

  Sinclair

  “I’M SO SORRY, SWEETHEART. I had a great night planned.” Cole’s voice is full of frustration on the other end of the phone.

  “I’m sorry too, but I’m really just worried about your Dad. You’re sure he’ll be okay?”

  “Yeah, he’ll be fine. I just need to help my Mom make sure he’s all set up at the house. He shouldn’t have been up that ladder in the first place. They can hire people for that sort of thing.” He blows out a breath. “Fuck!” It sounds like he runs his hand down his face.

  “Cole, it’s fine. I mean, it sucks, obviously, but a few days won’t kill me. Probably won’t anyway.” I’m relieved when I hear him chuckle a little. “You’ll be back before the weekend, though?”

  “Definitely. I’ll be back Wednesday or Thursday at the latest.” I hear muffled announcements in the background for what sounds like Denver, Las Vegas, and something else I can’t quite hear. “Shit! They’re calling my flight. I’ve gotta go, babe. I’ll miss you, Sinclair. I’ll text you later and let you know what’s going on.”

  “I’ll miss you too. Travel safe.”

  I hang up the phone, both heart and body disappointed that Cole had to cancel our date tomorrow night. I thought it was going to be the night for us, after all. Still, there’s no reason the big night can’t be whenever he gets back from Ohio.

  I decide to focus my attention on plans for the housewarming party that’s the weekend after next. I invited just a few friends, and a couple of people from the office. Cole is going to ask a couple of his buddies to come. Even Dex, who hates all things party-related, agreed to come and bring Tabitha.

  It’s good that he’s bringing her. After all, Cole did say she’s his girlfriend now, so she and I are bound to spend time together. I love Dex. He’s my friend. If she loves him too, she and I should be friends as well.

  Anna and Lily both have dates tonight, and Dex is probably out with Tabitha, so I decide to slide into a pair of jeans and head out for some retail therapy.

  I’m barely out of my neighborhood when my phone buzzes.

  DEX: Heard Cole had some unexpected travel

  ME: Yep. Headed back to Ohio for a few days

  DEX: Want to come over and hang out?

  ME: You bet! On my way

  My mood immediately lifts at this unexpected opportunity to hang out with him. It’s something that, in my opinion, we haven’t done enough lately. I see the warm taupe stone and architectural lines as I turn onto his street. Minutes later, I’m pulling up to the masterpiece of modern architecture in University Park that he calls home sweet home.

  I’m surprised to find a new security gate in place at the end of his driveway since the last time I was here, which was before I moved to New York. I pull up and before I can even attempt to press any buttons, the screen lights up and the gate opens.

  The dark tinted glass windows create a vertical striped effect across the front of the stone-colored façade. The privet bushes out front are sculpted into perfect spheres, and the walkway is made of large, irregular flagstones with soft, velvety tufts of grass poking in between. It’s subtle, but clear that keeping this place looking so pristine must not come cheap.

  When I walk up the front path, Dex is waiting for me, standing in his bare feet, his hands shoved deep into his pockets, wearing a V-necked t-shirt and jeans as he leans against the door frame.

  What is it about a good-looking guy, standing barefoot in his home that’s so damn sexy? Maybe it’s the casual swagger of being someplace he feels comfortable. In any case, he looks great, and my heart soars when I see his broad smile.

  “Hi.” I wave as I walk up the path. “The gate’s new.”

  “Yeah, there was an incident last year.” The comment is made almost dismissively as he pulls me in for a hug.

  I throw my arms around him, feeling slightly wicked for how grateful I am that it’s just the two of us tonight.

  “What sort of incident?” He closes the door and we head toward the kitchen.

  “Overzealous inventor came by the house…repeatedly. The police suggested better security given some of the recent write-ups on AE in the news, so I had it installed.”

  He has always been so down-to-earth…the same old Dex I’ve always known and loved, that it’s easy to forget just how wealthy he has become since his company has taken off.

  “But, this is really cool. I can program you into the system so you don’t have to ring. Here.” He has me stand against the wall. “I’m taking your picture.”

  He holds up his phone and I immediately cross my eyes and stick out my tongue.

  “Okay, up to you, but you’ll have to do that every time you come over.” He looks over his glasses at me.

  “Okay, okay, party pooper!” I give him a Mona Lisa smile and he snaps a photo.

  “And there we go. You’re now in the system.” He puts his phone on the charger and hands me a beer. I step out of my shoes, leaving my purse on the counter.

  As I walk toward the living room, I feel an uneasiness I can’t quite put my finger on, and it makes me shudder. Suddenly, it hits me.

  “So, is your girlfriend progra
mmed into that thing?” I ask.

  “She’s not my…wait, did you talk to Cole?”

  “We texted last night while I was the salon, and he was hanging with you and your girlfriend.”

  He takes off his glasses and runs his hand down his face.

  “Come on, tell me everything,” I run my arm through his and leading him to the couch where we plop down side-by-side. I lean my weight into his arm and look up at him sweetly. “What’s bothering you?”

  “Nothing…something…I don’t know. I like her, Clair. Tabitha’s smart and funny and sexy and…I don’t know. Right, I think.”

  I feel a pain in my chest. Not like a sword, but like a needle. It pierces the tiny balloon of hope deep inside that there might be a day, a time and place where Dex and I exist as something other than what we are.

  Right.

  That sounds a lot more permanent than right now, and my jealous heart aches.

  “Okay, so if she’s right, what’s bothering you?”

  “I don’t know. Just nerves, I guess.”

  “Does she realize you’re a bajillionaire?” He may like her and she seems nice, but we don’t know this woman, not really, and you never know what motivates a person.

  “No, she…,” His brows furrow and he purses his lips for a moment.

  “What did you just realize?”

  He gives me a sideways glance. “That’s seriously creepy sometimes, how you do that. Know what’s in my head, I mean.”

  “You know what’s in mine, too.”

  But not always, and thank god for that.

  “Well, that first night, she did say she googled me. But, she has a successful practice, and she has never mentioned anything that would make me think that’s her motive.” He blows out a breath and shakes his head.

  “Okay, that’s good, then. If she was jobless and destitute, I’d be worried.” I wink.

  “I haven’t had many serious girlfriends, Clair. You know that. What if…what if I get it wrong?” His face is filled with vulnerability.

  “Oh, sweet, brilliant, completely dense Dexter. You don’t get it. If she likes you…if she’s falling for you, there’s no way you’ll get it wrong. Yeah, I can remind you that making reservations for Valentine’s Day is a thing, and suggest jewelry over kitchen appliances as a Christmas gift, but in the grand scheme of things, she ought to love you for who you are. Who you are is…just the best.” I face him and press my palm to his cheek. “So of course you won’t get it wrong.”

  He puts his hand on top of mine and just looks at me for a long moment. Then, he blinks and shakes his head a little.

  “I hope you’re right. But what about you? Sounds like you and Cole are getting kind of serious, too.” His tone shifts to that of protective friend.

  “I think we are. I might’ve misjudged him at first. I had no idea he liked art and music, science and literature. He’s not what I expected from a professional athlete.” I shrug. “Is that terrible to say?”

  Dex seems to clench his jaw, takes off his glasses, and massages the bridge of his nose. It’s something I’ve seen him do a million times when he’s feeling tired or impatient.

  “He’s a good guy. He’s my friend. I like him. It’s just…I’m not sure he’s good enough for you.” He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees, and runs both hands through his hair, then drops his hands to hang between his knees and turns to look at me.

  “Does he make you happy?”

  “I think so…so far, anyway. And as for being good enough for me, you’re just being overprotective.” I mindlessly finger the beads of my bracelet with my thumb. “Of course he’s good enough for me. I think he’s just the kind of guy I should be going out with.”

  Because you don’t want me. You are the right kind of guy for me…the best guy for me, but that will never happen.

  “I just want you to be happy,” he pulls me into his chest for a hug. “I’ve only ever wanted you to be happy. I’d do anything to make that happen, no matter what. You know that, right? No matter how big, and no matter what the sacrifice.”

  I nod, and cling to him for longer than I should, and consciously, I know it, but I can’t stop. I can’t seem to let him go, and being the good friend that he is, he knows this, and buries his face in the top of my hair, just holding me for a moment that could never be long enough.

  “I nearly forgot.” He pats my shoulder with his palm so I sit back upright. “I got you a present. It’s a housewarming gift, but I’d rather give it to you now than at the party when there are lots of people there.”

  “You already got me the picture, which I love. It’s one of my favorite things.”

  “The one where I look skinny?” He asks, rolling his eyes.

  “Did Cole tell you he said that?” It seems weird that a guy would take a dig at his buddy after the fact.

  “Hmm?” I see something come across his face, then he adds suddenly, “Right. Yeah. He’s been giving me shit about it since he saw it at your place.”

  Dex jumps up and walks over to the hall closet, then comes back and hands me a gift wrapped in paper with letters all over it. The paper is clearly for a kids’ gift, but I love it anyway.

  “The photo was a welcome home present. This is a housewarming present. Go ahead. Open it.”

  I tear off the paper and reveal a familiar, burgundy-colored box emblazoned with a label that reads Scrabble.

  My eyes go wide.

  “No fucking way! Is this a nineteen forty-eight?”

  “It is indeed. I found it at the flea market when we were there, and took it to a guy who restores toys to clean it up. It’s nearly mint.”

  This is what I love so much about him. He utterly and completely gets me.

  “Dex! I love it!” I nearly squeal with glee as I open the lid to find the original instructions printed clearly. I proclaim, “We must play immediately!”

  “Using only words popularized prior to nineteen forty-eight?” He asks, looking over his glasses at me.

  “Obviously!” I roll my eyes and smile.

  .-- --- -. -.. . .-.

  A few hours, copious amounts of pizza, and several beers later, I’m almost falling asleep as we wrap up our final game. I must be tired, because I lose when I place the word newbie for a triple-word score, only to realize that it did not come into popular use until the nineteen-seventies. According to our nineteen forty-eight rules, I have to forfeit the round, and Dex goes out using his three remaining tiles to turn pin into hatpin.

  “You only beat me because I’m tired…and a little drunk.” I pick a little fight, lounging back on the sofa as he boxes up my game.

  “Sure, that’s it.” He shakes his head. “But Clair, you do look exhausted. I’m not sure you should drive. Do you want to stay here?”

  “I can’t stay here because you have a girlfriend,” My filter is obliterated in my slightly drunken, extremely sleepy state. I should definitely stop speaking while I’m ahead.

  “And you have a boyfriend.” He chuckles. “But both of them would rather you sleep in the guest room than try to drive in your present condition. Come on.” He extends his hand. I take it, and he leads me to the guest room.

  “Bathroom’s right in here,” he gestures to the door at the back of the room. “There are new toothbrushes and paste in the drawer…fresh towels if you want to shower. Let me grab you something to sleep in.”

  I giggle at the thought of spending the night with Dex and it being to sleep in his guest room.

  He returns a moment later with a pair of boxers and a t-shirt.

  “I’ll grab your clothes when you’re done and throw them in the wash—just let me know when you’re finished changing.”

  Changing into the t-shirt takes more effort than it should. I sniff the collar, though, loving that it smells a little like my friend. I am so tired, I can barely keep my eyes open. I don’t even remember falling asleep.

  CHAPTER 18

  Dexter

  CLAIR NEVER C
OMES OUT to give me her clothes, so after I clean up our trash from dinner, I tap lightly on the guest room door.

  When she doesn’t answer, I open it slowly, and peek inside. All the lights are still on, her clothes are in a pile on the floor. Clair is curled up in a ball on top of the comforter, fast asleep.

  I walk around to the far side of the guest bed and pull back the covers. Then I return to where Clair is sleeping, and grin as I look down. I stroke her cheek to try to rouse her.

  “Come on, Clair. Get under the covers.” I’m quiet enough not to jar her, but loud enough for her to hear. Still, she doesn’t stir. She’s truly out.

  I realize, as I look down at her, she’s not wearing the boxers I gave her. Just the t-shirt.

  Literally, just the fucking t-shirt.

  Christ.

  I say Tabitha’s name in my head over and over like a mantra to ward off the impure thoughts that aren’t easily being quieted. I try not to think about the edge of exposed hip and curve of her ass poking out from beneath the four-sizes-too-big shirt. My dick, though, is extremely aware of my gorgeous, almost-naked bestie laying just feet away.

  Stop being a creepy asshole.

  My mind wants to wander to Dexland, where she suddenly rolls over and says, ‘I can’t keep fooling myself, Dex. I’ve always wanted you.’

  I remind myself that, although Tabitha wouldn’t mind my best friend spending the night in my guest room, she would definitely not be so much a fan of ogling her bare ass, and silently willing her to roll over in her sleep and declare her undying love for me.

  Realizing I’m not only being a dick to the woman I’m dating but, also, a giant perv to my best friend, I shake it off and try to ignore the throbbing in my pants.

  Clair is not waking up, so I slide one hand under her shoulders, the other—carefully—under her knees, and lift her off the bed. I won’t even lie. I’m incredibly proud that she feels light, and I can carry her easily. That wouldn’t have necessarily been the case when we first met, but I’m a different guy now. Dexter two-point-oh has a different physique than the guy she met in college.