Piece by Piece

by Tucker, RH

  It helps—or possibly it doesn’t help, I haven’t decided—that we seem to mesh well. Well, at least as far as hooking up under the sheets. I’d like to think that this is nothing more than sex to me, and I’m trying really hard to keep that frame of mind. But it’s difficult. The first time I thought it was just great sex, but now, it feels like it’s more than that. He didn’t say if he’s been with anyone else since we’ve been together, and I didn’t ask. It’s only been a week, so I guess anything is possible, but I’d like to think he hasn’t. However, that doesn’t mean anything.

  For whatever reason, I know he’s unavailable emotionally. He has to be. Why else would he have this hindrance to any type of commitment? Still, it feels nice with his arms around me.

  The sun’s breaking through his window, and I’d like to go back to sleep, but if I do, I’ll be late for work again.

  My finger runs over his arm. I take another look at the scars on his shoulder. Like a spider’s web that’s been mangled, it makes me wonder what they could be from before reaching down and grabbing my shirt.

  “Just gonna dine and dash, huh?” His scratchy, morning voice chuckles.

  “Excuse you.” I turn around and kiss his cheek, immediately regretting it. That’s something a girlfriend would do, isn’t it? In the very least, someone he’s dating, and we’re not dating. “I don’t want to risk being late to work again.”

  Reaching over, he grabs his phone, checking the time. “It’s barely eight. I thought you said you don’t work until noon.”

  “Aw.” I playfully poke his ribs after pulling down my shirt. “Is someone going to miss me?”

  Sliding closer, he runs his hand under the sheets, moving it up my thigh. “Well, I might miss a part of you.”

  Shoving his hand away, I crawl over and sit on top of him. “You know, sometimes I think you’re an arrogant jerk, but that just came off as an ass.”

  “Says the girl now sitting on top of me.”

  “Oh, do you not like this? You seemed to be enjoying it last night.” I teasingly bite my lip, grinding my hips into his.

  His fingers clamp around my hips. “Well, you said I needed to work on my stamina. I just wanted to prove to you I have no issues in that department.”

  Leaning down to him, my lips graze his. “Well then, I’d say our work is finished.”

  Breaking free of his grasp, I slide off the bed and grab my pants.

  “What the—” His mouth drops. His eyes jump from me to his lap and back again. “Did you just do that on purpose? I’m gonna have blue balls all day.”

  “Don’t be an ass next time then,” I blurt out, unable to stop from giggling.

  Chapter 8

  Taylor

  I hear the front door close, a smile across my face, and turn over, grabbing the pillow she slept on. She smells good. It’s a sweet scent. Like honey or some kind of nectar.

  Get that shit out of your head.

  Shoving the pillow away, I sit up and take another deep breath. This time it’s to clear my head. I’m not going to like this girl. Yeah, she’s kind, incredibly beautiful, and damn it if last night wasn’t better than the first time we hooked up. But I have to keep these feelings in check. She’s a distraction. They all are. I know what happens when I try to get serious with a girl and I can’t stand those nightmares.

  After going out with Calvin and Ethan, the night started off like any other. Then Ethan’s mom wasn’t feeling very good. She was his babysitter, so his night was done. Calvin found a girl and took off early, but I stayed behind waiting for Becky to show up. Then she canceled.

  I called Micah up, but he was hanging out with Veronica, so I decided to head out to the always reliable fallback, Chevy’s. It’s casual, my cousin works there, and the servers all know me. It’s basically my Cheers. My dad loves that show.

  That’s when I saw Sasha.

  To say she looked underdressed would be an understatement, but I also know what she looks like dressed up and with no dress on at all. I thought about saying hi at first, but she seemed to be lounging with her friends, or maybe they were workmates. In any case, it was pretty clear she wasn’t out, looking for someone to hit on her. That should’ve been clear to any guy with half a brain. Unfortunately, there’s always the over-achievers.

  I heard a few of his one-liners, and not only had to hold back a few groans, but also a couple of laughs. It was comical watching Sasha volley all of his overused and unoriginal pickup lines. The dude appeared to be harmless, albeit persistent, and I would assume she and her friends could’ve easily handled it in the end, but I couldn’t resist. Especially after remembering her lips.

  I’m glad she knows this isn’t anything serious. I almost never hook-up with the same girl twice. There are exceptions, like Becky, because she’s incredibly sexy and wants exactly what I want, no matter what Micah says. I don’t know if Sasha’s the same, but I know I definitely like what we can do together.

  Looking over at the pillow, the memories of her and her smell come back.

  Go to hell.

  Great, now I’m talking to myself. That’s always the first sign that I need to get out and hit the gym.

  After a shower, I head to the kitchen, when Micah walks in and gives me a smirk.

  “What?”

  “Was that Sasha’s car I saw again last night?”

  I don’t answer. Casting a sideways glance, I grab an energy drink out of the fridge and a protein bar from the cabinet.

  “Dude, you should think about it.”

  “Micah, there’s nothing to think about. We hooked up a couple of times. End of story.”

  Leaning against the kitchen counter, he raises his eyebrows, nodding with a smile. Micah’s not one to push something though, so it comes as no surprise that he changes the subject. Unfortunately, it’s a different subject I’m not usually anxious to discuss either. “How’d it go meeting up with AJ and his parents?”

  I take a bite of my protein bar, lifting my shoulders. “As good as it usually does. He got straight A’s again.”

  “Cool. You should visit your parents. They’ve been back home for about a year now, right?”

  I nod, finishing my protein bar, and stare down at the ground. I love my parents. They basically relocated their entire lives for me for my last year of high school. When I wanted to find my own place as soon as I graduated high school, I know they worried about me. But after my first semester, they decided to move back to Santa Monica. All of my family lives out there. All of Reese’s family too.

  “I’ve thought about it, but … everyone’s so nice when I go out. It makes me uncomfortable.”

  “Taylor,” he says, I’m sure waiting for me to look over at him. It’s something I’ve noticed Micah does. He likes to look someone in the eye, almost like he’s making sure the person is really hearing him. I hate it. “It wasn’t your—”

  “I’m gonna hit the gym,” I cut him off. I’ve heard his words before. I didn’t agree with them then, and I don’t agree with them now. “You work today?”

  Giving me a knowing smirk, he shakes his head. “Nope, V and I are going out. Want to come?”

  “Ha!” I finish my energy drink and grab another protein bar to take with me. “Thanks, but I think I’ll pass on date night, or day in this case. Either way, let her know I bought some new headphones, extra noise canceling ones.”

  Laughing, he shakes his head. It’s a friendly, ongoing joke I have with him and his girlfriend. She’s super nice, and they’re great together. I’m happy for Micah. Unfortunately, our small, two-bedroom apartment has walls about as thin as a sheet of paper. And they’re loud.

  “You’re a dick, you know that, right?” he replies, still laughing.

  “You do realize I still owe both of you for that little stunt you two played last month.”

  “Dude,” he puts up in hands in innocence, “that was all her idea.”

  “The song could’ve been worse. I have actually hooked up to ‘Pony’ by
Ginuwine, but that girl was so embarrassed she left her bra behind. She just grabbed her shirt and bolted.”

  “Maybe you shouldn’t have teased Veronica that one night by blasting the Meg Ryan scene from When Harry Met Sally.” I start laughing. He’s holding back a chuckle, turning a little shade of red. “I’ll give it to you, that was a good one. At first, I thought you actually had a girl in your room and were competing with us.”

  “Come on, I know the limit. I’d never do that.” He quirks an eyebrow at me. “Besides, you know I’d win.”

  “Jackass.”

  Chapter 9

  Sasha

  “Oh my God,” my sister moans. Loudly. “Oh … my God.”

  “Please. Stop.”

  “No, she’s right,” Tara says, licking her lips. “Mmm.”

  “You guys.” I slam my spatula down on the counter harder than I mean to. “It’s food, not a sexual experience.”

  “Your food is a sexual experience,” Tara giggles, swirling her fork around her plate.

  “Sash, this is delicious,” Felicia agrees. “How can this be your first time making it?”

  It’s not uncommon for me to cook dinner for us, and every once in a while, I’ll try something new. A few days ago, Adam told me about some great fresh spices that go amazing with shrimp, so I decided to make shrimp scampi with angel hair pasta tonight. It’s obviously a big hit.

  “How are you so skinny?” Tara asks, piercing a piece of shrimp, before letting out another moan as she chews her food. “If I cooked like you, I’d want to eat it all!”

  Rolling my eyes, I let out a laugh. “I don’t know. Fast metabolism? I mean, I taste everything I cook.”

  “You should see her in my yoga class,” Felicia laughs, scooping the last of the pasta off her plate. “She gives up after five minutes.”

  “I hate Bikram yoga,” I deadpan. “And the tree pose. I hate the tree pose.”

  “But I bet you love the flexibility that stuff gives you.” Tara casts a coy smile in my direction.

  “So what’s the deal with you and Hemsworth Junior—”

  “Ha!” Tara nearly spits out her pasta at Felicia’s quip. “Hemsworth Junior. I love it. I’m calling him Thor from now on.”

  “Just don’t do it in front of him. I’m still getting over your and Rita’s not so subtle jabs that night at Chevy’s.” I look over to Felicia. “And there is no deal. He’s a ‘no strings attached’ kind of guy, I guess. Which is fine for me.”

  “Really?” Felicia raises an unconvinced eyebrow.

  “Yes, really. Honestly, this has been perfect. I’m not concerned about being in a relationship, so I don’t have to worry if we’re something or not. Plus, it’s not like a regular thing or anything. Chevy’s was just a one-time deal.”

  “You mean, two-time deal.”

  “Fine,” I concede. “But it’s not like we planned to meet up again after the club. He works and goes to school. I’m working myself.”

  Wiping her mouth, Felicia leans back in her chair, gently rubbing her food baby stomach, still humming in delight. “You’ve never been one for a casual hook-up, Sasha. Even the guys in the past, you were always with them at least a couple of weeks before ending it. Why now?”

  I stare at my plate. I have wondered that, and I’m pretty sure it’s because I don’t want to deal with the same kind of situation I have in the past.

  Before I can answer, Tara interrupts. “You should make it a thing.”

  “Tara, he already told me that first night. He doesn’t do relationships.”

  “No, not a relationship. You seem good enough on your own, too. So why get bogged down in the relationship drama? Just, you know, someone you can call up when you want to and—”

  “Friends with benefits? Seriously, Tara?”

  “Why not?” Tara challenges.

  I look over at Felicia, shaking my head, expecting her to have the same expression as me. Instead, she wears a curious mien.

  “Really, Felicia? You think I should?”

  She wiggles her hand side to side. “Well, I wouldn’t say you should, but I’m not saying you shouldn’t. You guys already hooked up twice. Why not?”

  “Uh, how about the most obvious one? Friends with bennies never works. Someone always develops feelings. And you said it yourself, I don’t do random hookups. I’m not interested in falling for some guy who, for whatever reason, doesn’t want a girlfriend.”

  Tara nods in thought. “Remember him in high school? He never had a girlfriend back then either. Maybe he’s just playing this whole thing up, waiting to fall head over heels for someone.”

  “Okay,” I scoff. “Someone’s been watching too many romcoms lately.”

  She laughs, ignoring the comment. “We never did figure out the rumors about him.”

  “He transferred our senior year. It was high school. Rumors mills are rampant.”

  “Yeah, but you said he has some scars, right? What if he escaped a mob hit, and had to go into the witness protection program?”

  Felicia and I exchange stares, both of us rolling our eyes at the same time, then letting out a laugh.

  “Oh!” Tara raises a finger. “He drove a motorcycle back then, too. He was involved in a biker gang, but he’s now on the run from them after he double-crossed them during one of their midnight street races!”

  She nods in excitement, smiling widely, before all three of us break into laughter.

  * * *

  It’s a hectic dinner rush tonight since Ian called out for his shift. It was initially going to be me, Manny, and him, but when he called out, I said we should let Adam know. Since it’s his restaurant, he wouldn’t hesitate to come in and make sure everything runs smoothly. However, Manny wanted to impress him.

  “Service!” I yell, and one of the servers comes in and grabs the dinner plate.

  “Look at you guys,” Rita calls out to us, poking her head in.

  Throwing a pan into the sink, I ask, “What are you doing?”

  “You’ll never guess who’s out here.”

  I stare at her, totally clueless. “Who?”

  “Your biker boy.”

  “What?” I hurry over to the door, and peer through the little window on it. “What’s he doing here?”

  “Sasha, the steak!” Manny yells at me.

  “Damn it,” I grumble and run back to the stove, basting the protein.

  “Do you want me to tell him you’re back here?” Rita asks with a laugh.

  “What? No! Are you crazy? I’m a sweaty, greasy mess.”

  “Aw, you’re no fun.” She laughs again and leaves the kitchen.

  “Now you’re dragging your boy toys to work, babe?” Manny snickers.

  “Screw you, he doesn’t even know I work here,” I return, but still feel my face heating up, and it’s not because of the grill. “Besides, you’ve had more than your fair share of boy toys waiting out there for you.”

  “Girl, my men know their place.”

  “Dummy,” I giggle, turning the steak in the pan.

  I try not to think about Taylor, but I do. I haven’t seen him in almost a week, and I find myself wondering who he’s out there with. I don’t want to, but I do.

  After our first night at the club, I knew what it was. And yeah, Felicia’s right, I don’t do casual hookups, but I knew what that night was. And I wanted it.

  After the night at Chevy’s, even though I knew where he stood, there was a small part of me that knew it was probably a bad idea. Another night with him? Once was fine, but the last thing I need is to develop feelings for someone who only likes to hit it and quit it. So as the night goes on, and we start to clean up, I try to scrub not only the pots and pans I’ve cooked with but my mind of Taylor and our two nights together.

  Walking out to our cars after we close, I stop dead in my tracks. Taylor is leaning against his motorcycle, which is next to my car. He delivers a wicked smirk to me and my jaw drops.

  “What’s wrong? You forget some
thing?” Manny questions, bumping into me.

  “Uh … no.”

  He turns and follows my line of vision. “Damn, girl,” he whispers to me. “Rita wasn’t lying. That boy is all man. Have fun.”

  He chuckles and walks over to his car, leaving us alone in the dimly lit parking lot. “What are you doing here?” I ask, getting my keys out.

  “My friend Ethan and I were hanging out doing a Taco Tuesday thing tonight. Your bartender gave me your note.” He lifts up a folded piece of paper.

  The dark jeans and leather jacket do nothing to erase from my mind what I know he looks like underneath.

  “My note?” I take the paper from him and unfold it, confused. Reading it, it tells him what time I’m off and to wait or come back so we can have another night of fun, with my name signed at the bottom.

  “Rita.” I grind my teeth, shaking my head.

  His low, rumbling chuckle bubbles forth. “Does this mean you didn’t want to have some more fun?”

  I bite my lip, trying to keep myself from smirking. “I smell like fajitas and Pico de Gallo.”

  Taking a step closer to me, he slides a hand around my hip, his lips grazing my ear. “Good enough to eat.”

  “You and your lines. Do they work on all of the girls?”

  “Most of them,” he replies, and I raise an eyebrow at the rashness. “But I can definitely tell you’re not like most girls.”

  “Good answer.” Keeping his hand on my hip, he pulls me closer as he leans against his bike. “Seriously, I stink. I need a shower.”

  Licking his lips, a mischievous glint hits his eyes. “We’ve got a shower.”

  “I don’t have any clothes there.”

  “Who said anything about needing clothes?”

  Before I have time to second guess if I should take him up on his offer, and even debate whether doing this again with him for the third time is an entirely wrong decision on my part, his lips hit mine, and he wraps his arms around me. By the time I’m able to develop somewhat coherent problem-solving skills, I find myself on the back of his bike, and we’re speeding through the streets, on the way to his apartment.