by C. M. Owens
Bo rolls her eyes, and Harley shakes her head as I wiggle out of my shorts, preparing to try on the skirt I’ve deconstructed.
“They’re in here,” Bora says as she swings open the door, her eyes wide and her smile huge as she does so. “I found something pretty,” she adds as…my stomach jumps up to my throat.
Base Masters.
Base…Masters.
He steps through the doorway in a pair of faded, worn jeans and a black T-shirt with some sports logo on it. My mind can’t even process enough to absorb all the details, because it’s Base Masters.
Why is he here? Is he here for me?
I get a little dizzy.
His dark hair is a little shorter, but his smile is just as cocky as I remember it. However, his smile is trained on Bo instead of me.
“Hey, I was wondering if I could talk to you for a minute,” he says as I completely freeze in place, irrationally hoping against all odds he does not notice me.
“Of course,” Bo says like she’s confused, darting a worried look over at me.
I wish I could have asked her not to do that. Her gaze causes his to follow, and his smile slowly spreads when his eyes land on me. He completely turns his body, and I sense there’s a deliberateness to the way he lets his gaze drop and really take in the rather inconvenient way I’m exposed.
“Hey, Britt,” he says so casually.
It’s hard to pretend that the last time we saw each other I wasn’t walking away in tears as I ran away for three weeks to grieve a healthy amount of time in private, while simultaneously being helpful to Harley.
“Hi.” It’s the only word that will leave my lips, and it’s as flat as I can keep it.
He glances from me to the strips of leather and back to me.
“Learning to make your own costumes by hand?” he guesses too easily, given the severe lack of details he has.
I nod, locking my knees into place when it feels like they’re trying to fail me.
“So this is what you do when you’re not locked in a room with me during every unoccupied moment,” he adds, throwing a surprising shift in the conversation.
“Among other things,” I say without really thinking about it. “C-congratulations on the tour. I heard it did well.”
He nods slowly. “We’ll talk about that later. I can see you’re busy right now.”
Talk about it later? No. No. I can’t talk about anything at all later with him. It’s clear, given my natural response and the inane fluttering in my stomach, that he’s still going to be a very large issue for me.
“No need,” I assure him. “I kept up. I follow your pages, and Vince’s too. And where I can, I even have my notifications set to alert me about when you post—”
Harley makes a slicing motion over her throat that is a clear signal for me to stop talking.
I swallow the rest of my words.
His grin just grows. “Are you free for dinner tonight?”
“Nope,” I say without hesitation. “I have a date.”
He nods, still smiling.
“Okay then. I’ll just see you when I see you.”
He’s back? He’s not supposed to be back. They’re…they’re…they’re supposed to go to where Vince lives, and I can’t even think of where that is because my brain hurts so much right now.
“Bye, Britt,” he tells me, and I just hold a hand up, standing awkwardly in place as he backs out.
Bo follows him, shrugging at me when I cast what I can only assume must be a panicked look at her.
The door shuts behind her, and I realize I’ve been holding my breath when I release the harsh one that’s been trapped. It’s painful when I suck in fresh air.
“Ah, hell,” Harley says on a sigh as she looks over at me.
“If someone who looks like that is passed over because you have a date, can I at least see a picture of this guy you’re going out with? I’ll regrow my hymen if that’s what it takes to be you right now,” Bora states dryly.
“That’s a physical impossibility, and my hymen is no longer a participating factor,” I tell her as I shakily lift my phone, pulling up the student website and finding Maxwell’s picture to show her.
Bora’s face falls when she examines it. “He must be hung like horse.”
Harley just shakes her head and covers her face.
“It’s a first date, so I wouldn’t know. I’m currently moving into the phase of my life where it’d be healthy to form a sexual relationship with a partner who can also be a friend outside of my comfort zone.”
“This guy isn’t far from moving on to post grad work, Britt. He’s right inside your comfort zone,” Harley interrupts.
I don’t say anything as I quickly start pulling on clothes that cover me, my cognitive functions slowly recovering.
“Oh, so the pretty guy with the bad boy grin left you with some serious heartbreak. Got it. Been there,” Bora says as though the universe makes sense again before she walks out.
“He was supposed to be mad at me,” I remind Harley very quietly.
“Yeah, you were such a bitch,” she agrees with a dry tone.
The door opens, and Bo walks back in with a small grin on her face.
“What was that about?” Harley asks her.
“He was just apologizing to my staff for his outburst before he left for their tour,” she says. “And the rest of them were waiting out there to apologize to me as well. Then they all thanked me. I guess the tour was good for them.”
“Their social media following has steadily increased, and has had a lot of big jumps after the performances. And all the buzz generated about their start is still drawing attention. I’ve been assured it’s a good upswing for them,” I state idly as I busy my shaky hands.
When I look back up, they’re both staring at me.
“You realize you’re not over him,” Bo says after a moment.
“I’m aware. I adopted the out-of-sight, out-of-mind philosophy, since it seemed to be the most effective tool,” I tell her as I drop to a chair.
“How’s that working out?” Harley asks.
“Not so well, since I just had to see him,” I tell her, wondering why that isn’t obvious.
She just blinks a few times before swinging her gaze to Bo.
“I’m sure he’s only here for a limited amount of time. I need to know how to braid the leather tighter,” I say as I start working on a set.
Bo comes to help me, as Harley leans in closer, the way she does when she tries to talk about Base. I think she believes talking about him quieter makes it less painful to do.
“They’ve started playing one of his new songs a lot, and it’s sort of about a guy who really loved a girl.”
I nod. “I know. I’ve heard it. But when he writes, he never writes honestly. He tells the story of what may have been. Never what actually was,” I explain distractedly as I catalogue Bo’s hand movements.
“Dad has a custom studio in Sterling Shore. It’s possible they’ll record their full album here,” Bo says like she’s poking more metaphorical holes in my once-effective coping mechanism.
“He showed no outward jealousy about my date for tonight, and followed up with no questions, so one can reason he’s moved on and just wanted to find closure on a friendlier note,” I tell them both when they continue to stare at me.
“But what if—”
I interrupt Harley’s hypothetical what-if, because she always has one when she’s trying to make me see her point. Today is not a day to compromise.
“If he wants more, I’ll refer to the relationship chart that will remind me how impossible it is for us to work out,” I remind her.
“Relationship chart?” Bo asks in confusion.
“The chart that demonstrates the fact there’s no healthy way for the two of them to have a relationship, even though people can’t be broken into categories. We have emotions that trump issues. The human element and all,” Harley says pointedly at me.
“I need to ur
inate.”
I stand abruptly and go to the bathroom, shut the door, and…slowly slide down the wall until I’m sitting in the floor, my eyes closing as one silly tear rolls down my cheek.
Out of sight. Out of mind.
It’s worked fine. Sterling Shore isn’t little. We went a long time without running into each other, despite the many people we had in common. It’s reasonable to believe we won’t unintentionally cross paths again.
“Britt, come on. I’ll drop you off after I hit the kinky store,” Harley says after she knocks on the door.
I wipe away the tear, check the mirror, and take a breath before I walk out.
My memory starts working against me as it pieces together every frame of just how good and happy Base looked.
Harley, fortunately, doesn’t mention Base again as she talks about everything else on the drive to the adult novelty store she frequents.
I focus on the store and not on the image of Base that is frozen inside my mind.
I follow her in, but I veer to the right when I spot an odd contraption made of leather. I study it for only a moment when I hear familiar laughter.
Spotting Maverick and Corbin at the register, likely making a dirty joke about their purchases, I walk toward them.
Then I back up and stare at the very large, thick, suction-cup dildo designed for sticking to floors or walls. The diagram shows a woman doing the splits to use it.
I pick it up and carry it with me, catching them just before they reach the door.
Corbin startles when he sees me, and Maverick’s eyes widen. I keep my expressions neutral as I cradle the large phallus in my arms.
“Fuck’s sake, Britt. Why? Just why would you be buying that?” Maverick asks me, screwing his eyes shut.
“I’ve grown addicted to the sensations provided by a man’s—”
“Don’t,” Corbin interrupts, shaking his head. “Please don’t finish that sentence.”
“It’s natural. In fact, most women find they have a very active libido after losing their virginity,” I continue. “It’s nothing to be—”
They both turn and walk out, and I turn around, feeling a small grin tug at my lips as I go to put the suction-cup phallus back in its bin.
As I turn the corner of the aisle, though, I slam into someone, and my eyes widen when I realize it’s Randy. His eyes widen too. With no warning or preamble, he lifts me from the ground, hugging me.
“Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you,” he says as he squeezes me tightly.
“I don’t like being thanked this severely,” I decide to tell him, feeling incredibly uncomfortable and wanting down now. “Just owe me a favor if you feel you must.”
I’m stiff in his arms, and I reel back quickly when he puts me down. I end up falling back against a hard body as the phallus drops to the ground, and an overly familiar arm wraps around my waist to steady me.
“Seems like you’re everywhere I am today,” Base says very close to my ear from behind me, the heat of his breath fanning my skin.
Well…this is definitely not out of sight or out of mind. At all.
“Here, you dropped this,” Randy says with a very large grin as he picks up the downed phallus.
“Seems ambitious for someone who’s still relatively new to sex,” Base muses.
“That was actually for Corbin and Maverick,” I explain, only causing Randy’s brow to scrunch.
I don’t think he’s constipated.
I feel Base grin next to my ear, because his lips brush my skin, sending a chill skittering up my spine. I quickly wriggle free of him, and take the suction-cup dildo from Randy, before placing it in the bin.
“We stopped in to kill time before we meet up with Tag,” Randy tells me.
I nod like that makes sense, even though I don’t understand the relative link between the two.
I turn to see Base propped up, hands in his pockets, and eyes on me with all that intensity I was starting to wonder if I over-exaggerated. I didn’t over-exaggerate it; I under-exaggerated it.
I see one bag after another being placed on the counter as they finish bringing out Harley’s large order.
“I should go,” I say as I turn in the other direction and walk down the backside of the aisle to avoid more accidental collisions with Base.
“Bye, Britt,” Base says, sounding way too amused.
I don’t know how to react to him right now, and it’s statistically unreasonable to think there will be any other unscheduled run-ins.
I back up again when I see a much more reasonably sized phallus with a lot of very interesting motorized functions. I pull it off the tab and take it with me to the register, never looking back, because it’s really hard to keep my working philosophy working when he’s in sight.
Chapter 37
BRITT
“Then I interned for a guy who was almost Bill Gates,” Maxwell tells me as I lift my phone. “Though I’m sure you’ve never heard of him if you didn’t keep up with the early publications during the great…”
I’m not sure what he says next, because I keep tuning him out in small intervals. I already know this won’t work, because when he touched my arm to guide me in, I got sick at my stomach.
I’m not really sure what it is that caused that reaction. He’s attractive, clean, and his teeth are perfectly straight. But bile rose to my throat when he kissed my hand, cementing the damning, revolting chemistry.
Both of these are not promising reactions to have toward a potential sexual partner, so the search will have to continue once I extract myself.
His IQ is two points higher than my own, but he makes me feel like I’m twice the idiot. He works harder to be misunderstood as opposed to working harder to simplify things. I’ve actually had to look up two of the words he used in a context I’d never heard them used.
A yawn escapes me as I subtly glance to my lap and text Harley.
ME: Are you bored when I talk?
HARLEY: On occasion I feel a little stupid, but never bored. Is he boring?
Before I can text her back, I spot Vince Jaggons walking in. Right behind him is Randy, then Taylor, then Sticks…and lastly…Base Masters.
This shouldn’t be possible.
I’m afraid there would be some very misleading confusion if I got under the table to hide right now.
The band moves to a table five down from us, and I push my uneaten cake aside, glancing at the back exit.
Unfortunately, just as I turn back around, Base’s eyes collide with mine as though compelled to do so. He only looks surprised for a second as a slow smile spreads over his lips, and his gaze flicks to Maxwell.
Neither man has ever shown signs of jealousy, so there shouldn’t be any conflict.
Base’s smile turns into a smug look before he returns his attention to his table.
“I read that it’s customary to have some passionate dirty talk before sex,” Maxwell says, drawing my gaze back to him.
I say nothing, because I’m not an expert on the subject matter.
“That’s harder than it may seem,” I caution him.
He shakes his head. “Nonsense. It’s very simple.” He keeps his eyes on mine as he says, “When I have you under me, you’re going to see stars,” he says in a pleasant tone.
I tap my fingers. “I’m confused. Are you going to get me under you and punch me?” I ask very seriously.
He gives me a bland look. “I think you’re misreading the context, since, as I stated, this is dirty talk.”
“Some people get aroused from physical violence, so there’s more room than you’re considering allowance for in terms of miscommunication.”
He pauses, running a hand over his mouth, then nods.
“I’m not aroused by violence,” I decide to point out.
“Duly noted. Nor am I,” he tells me.
Silence stems after that like he’s trying to think of a new line to use with the appropriate dirtiness that leaves no room for miscommunication. I
warned him it was harder than it seems.
His phone goes off, and he directs his attention to it. My stomach is queasy just trying to discuss the possibility of dirty talk to him, so I’m glad he’s unable to come up with another line.
“Sorry, Britt. I lost track of time, and my mother is already here to pick me up. We’ll have to discuss the terms of losing my virginity on our next date,” Maxwell states.
Every minute seemed unbearably long and drawn out to me, so I’m not entirely sure how he managed to lose track of time.
“There’s not going to be a second date, Maxwell,” I tell him as our bill is dropped off at the table.
Maxwell nods. “Very well. Nice meeting you, Britt Sterling. I’ll inform my mother this was not an ideal match. To be honest, you’re a little dull for me,” he adds as he stands and walks out.
“I’ll get the bill,” I say under my breath as I reach into my purse.
This hasn’t been my favorite day of the week.
A body slides into the seat across from me, and I glance up, unsurprised to find Base lounging in the chair as he leans back in Maxwell’s abandoned seat.
“I guess we’re technically at a dinner table tonight after all. I was going to invite you out with all of us,” Base tells me, gesturing toward the table full of the band.
Sticks lifts his chin, giving me a wave. Taylor starts to stand and come over here, but Sticks pulls him back down. Randy starts kissing the back of his hand, for whatever reason. Vince’s eyes are on the menu, not even aware anything is going on.
“It looks like a band outing. I’m glad things are going well,” I tell Base as the waiter swings back by to take my tab.
When my eyes land on the ones across the table again, it actually hurts. I’ve seen him too much for one day.
He just stares at me, a small smirk on his lips.
“The tour went better than Vince expected, which actually pisses him off, because he thought he had us all figured out. Now he sort of likes us…almost,” he proceeds to tell me, his smirk still fixed on his face.
I nod. “I suspected as much,” I tell him, looking around for Alex, my waiter.
