When the server had gone Amy was staring at me, a funny look on her face.
“Do you know her?”
I returned her look blankly. “Know who?”
“Our server,” she said, glancing behind me briefly. “The way she was looking at you. It was like she knew you.”
“I’ve never seen Victoria before in my life,” I said, referring to the name on her nametag.
“See?” Amy said, her expression tight. “Right there. You already know her name.”
“I’m good with names. It was also on her nametag.” I was perplexed about where this animosity was coming from. “Maybe she watches European basketball and recognizes me? Who knows?” I added. Before I could say more, Victoria arrived with our bottle of wine.
“Tu vino, Señor,” she said and smiled at me. I tasted, nodded, and she filled both of our glasses with the dark red liquid.
“Now you can’t tell me I’m crazy, the way she smiled at you when she poured your wine,” Amy said once Victoria had left.
I scrunched my face up. “What are you talking about? We are paying customers. Of course she’s going to smile at us.”
“Whatever.” Amy shook her head and grabbed her glass.
I reached across the table and grabbed her forearm. She didn’t reciprocate.
“What the hell is going on right now?”
“Nothing,” she said, and took a big gulp of wine.
“Squirt.” Her nickname came low and serious, more menacing than I had meant it to be. “What the hell is this really about?”
She scoffed. “You’ve got to be kidding me. Chandler, don’t act like you don’t know. My flight leaves at nine a.m. tomorrow to go back to Chicago. That’s in less than twelve fucking hours. And we haven’t even had a talk about our status. All we’ve talked about today was about how you want to use ropes…or whatever…tonight. But in the car you were silent. And, I don’t know, I thought that girl was giving you the eye. You seriously don’t see it?”
“I don’t know, Amy. I don’t care what Victoria is looking at! I’m staring at you right now. Just you. You’re the only one I want to stare at.” For the rest of my fucking life. Fuck.
I sipped my wine and repeated the words in my head.
I love you, Amy. I know it might seem crazy, but I do.
Try as I might, the words didn’t come out. It was like there was a demon holding my mouth together, blocking me from saying them.
I took a big gulp of my wine.
She took a deep breath to calm herself, then looked up at the ceiling. “Okay. Fine. Maybe I was overreacting. It’s just, I really care about you Chandler. And I’m scared about what’s going to happen when I leave tomorrow. Will this—whatever this is—fade away as quickly as it started? Your goddamn presence is like a drug to me. Will I have to start taking my meds again when I get back home? I hate it, this uncertainty. It makes me sick. And it makes me hate you when girls give you looks like she did. And I know I’m overreacting again.”
“Squirt.”
She was really worked up. Her cheeks had a rosy red hue now. “What?”
“It’s going to be okay. We’ll figure something out. This week and a half has been amazing but I’m still trying to process what this all means.”
I love you, Amy.
“Okay.” She nodded, exhaling but calmer. “You’re right. It’s not like you’ll disappear into thin air tomorrow.”
The server came out with our Brussels sprouts, which were topped with Pancetta. We forked them one at a time from the same bowl in the middle of the table. Skeptical as I’d been about ordering sprouts, they were actually quite good.
“You know, it’s actually kind of cute watching you try to verbalize your feelings.” She flashed a smile at me and seemed less anxious.
I chuckled a little. “Yeah, well, I kind of suck at it, if you can’t tell.”
She grinned, which made me feel less anxious. While we ate, I watched Amy for a few seconds. I was flattered by the idea that she thought I actually helped her deal with her depression, but mind over matter was only one part of dealing. I would never fault her for thinking she needed her meds and I hoped she really was doing okay without them.
I could still tell she was nervous about something because she was playing with her food. “Don’t like it?”
She looked up and frowned at the sprouts. “I like the bacon,” she said.
I laughed, and when she joined in, everything felt right again. Then she gave me a look, the kind that made me wonder what she was up to. “What is it?” I asked.
“Just that…there is so much more to you then most people will ever know,” she said, with a lot of emotion. “Hell, I think I’ve started to get to know you, and I’ve barely scratched the surface. Which is why I have something for you.”
She reached into her purse, pulled out an envelope, and set it between us on the table.
“What’s this?” I asked, just looking at it.
She smiled. “I did a little research for you on something that I thought you might like to know. Or should I say someone.”
“Someone?” I furrowed my brow. For some reason, a pit formed in my stomach. “What someone would I want to know about?”
“Well, I was thinking about our conversations. Now, and in college, and you definitely still have some loose ends you should tie off. Closure. And I think it’ll help you to know who your birth father was. And, if you want the chance to meet him.”
My eyes went wide, adrenaline spiked through me. “My birth father? What the…what the fuck?” Slowly, I picked up the envelope, not sure what to think or feel.
She tensed up, her eyes darting to the envelope to my face. “I thought you’d like to know, because…”
I flipped the envelope around in my hand, but didn’t open it. “I haven’t met my father for twenty-six years of being alive and there’s a damn good reason for that! Does this tell me who he is? What’s in here anyway?”
“If you don’t want to open it, then don’t.” There was pleading in her voice. “I thought it might help you deal with some of your…issues.”
“My issues?” I raised an eyebrow at her but she said nothing, speechless for once. It was one thing to wonder and not know, and another to have this dropped on you like a bomb. I felt hot all over, my heart was beating hard in my chest and I knew I was about to lose it. “All right, I just, I can’t. I need a second…”
Abruptly, I got out of the booth and stormed off towards the bathroom. I splashed water on my face, trying to calm down. She’d crossed a line, and I was on the brink of saying something I couldn’t take back. So she wanted me to meet my father. Maybe I should meet him. Maybe that would be good for me. Maybe…
Our conversation about him rose to the surface and while I understood this gesture was coming from a meaningful place, it wasn’t any of Amy’s business what I chose and her pushing me down that road of my past wasn’t her choice; it was mine.
I straightened the sleeves of my blue button down and unbuttoned the top button. Was it just me, or was it getting fucking hot in here?
I heard a knock on the door. No one else was in here with me. I opened it up and found Amy standing there. Her cheeks were fully flushed.
“I’m sorry,” she began, her tone serious and looked on the verge of tears. “I shouldn’t have brought that up to you. It’s not my right to tell you if you should or if you shouldn’t find your father.” She shook her head. “I just…I thought if anyone could give you a push toward confronting that part of your past, it would be me…”
“I know what you mean,” I said, picking up where she trailed off. I raked a hand through my hair. This shocker from anyone but Amy and I would have gone ballistic. “You thought we had a really special connection. And you know what, we fucking do.” I paused. Amy was right, in that my biological father has been MIA my whole life but his impact on me and my mom was forever. My ‘issues’ stemmed from his defection of our family. If anything, confronting him
, really meeting the man he is, might help me. “Maybe you’re right. I should find more about my father. Christ, I don’t know. Sometimes I think I’m beyond fucked up, and if I talk to him it’ll just mess me up more.”
As we stood in the doorframe, she looped her fingers around my belt. “I didn’t mean to mess with your mind or anything like that.” I smiled, looking down at her. The emotion in her eyes spoke volumes, conveying just how sorry she’d been to rock the boat. My boat.
The florescent lights in the hallway made her red dress sparkle. The devious wheels of my mind started to churn. I don’t know if it was a reaction to the emotional stress or what but I wished we were back at my apartment, alone.
“Did we just have another fight?” she asked, her lips pouty. “That’s gotta be a record, two fights in less than two weeks…”
To me, we weren’t fighting. I sure as hell hadn’t made it easy for her to get close to me so she’d had to push a little to get me to open up. I poked my head out and glanced down either side of the hallway. It was empty.
I looked back down at Amy. “Not…fighting,” I decided, “just having an interesting conversation.” She smiled as I put a hand on her hips, pulled her into me, and whispered, “But I do think it’s time we kissed and made up, just to make sure we’re both on the same page.”
Her eyes softened and a slow grin spread across her lips. “What kind of make up did you have in mind?”
I led her inside the bathroom and dead bolted the door shut. We made out against the wall like a couple of teenagers who had fifteen minutes until curfew would be up. She draped a leg around mine. I placed my hands under her until I’d lifted her off the floor, fully, while we kissed.
“Mmm Chandler,” she whispered. “I’ve thought about this before.”
“Have you, baby?” I quipped back. “What else happened in your fantasy?”
She whispered something lightly in my ear and giggled. I smiled from ear to fucking ear when I heard what she said.
“Turn around and hike up your dress,” I whispered forcefully as I grabbed a fistful of her hair out of the way of her ear.
She complied, though she had to shimmy a little to get the dress over the curve of her ass because it was so tight. My cock ached as she revealed inch by inch of creamy skin to me.
“Hands on the wall,” I ordered.
I dipped a hand around to the front of her legs and fingered her clit for a minute. She let out a nasally moan. “Well, looks like someone is wet already.”
“Please, Chandler,” she moaned. “Just fuck me already.”
I smiled at this beautiful fucking woman submitting to me. She was both angel and devil at once. I grabbed a bunch of her hair, put my hand on her lower back, and straightened her hips so they were square with me. My cock was already a steel rod looking at her like this. I undid my belt then unzipped my pants and pulled it out, running a figure eight with it across the flesh of her ass, teasing her.
“This what you want, is it?”
“Yes,” she murmured.
I ran the head of my cock on the outside of her wet slit for a minute, making her tremble. Her hips rocked back and forth, back and forth, until she was so wet that I slid right inside her with my length. She cooed and pressed her ass into me until she’d taken me fully.
“God, you’re so hot when you moan like that,” I whispered. I began with slow, deep strokes that messaged her and filled her methodically. I worked my cock over her clit.
“Harder,” she purred, glancing at me over her shoulder.
“You want it harder baby?” I confirmed. “You sure you can handle it?”
“Chandler, please. I want you to fuck me as hard as you can against this wall. Right now.”
I ran my hands over her hips until I was gripping her legs. If Amy wanted hard, I’d give her hard.
I plunged into her with all my width and length, and she let out a yelp, almost at the exact moment the smack sound of my hips on her flesh was made.
I fucked Amy as hard as I could. I fucked her like it was our last fuck and my life depended on it. I became an animal. For all fucking intents and purposes, this could be our last fuck.
Jesus fucking Christ Chandler, get out of your head.
She gripped me and I slammed into her again and again. She screamed like she didn’t give a shit about the people outside. Like we weren’t in a public bathroom. But the fact was, we needed each other so badly we couldn’t have waited until after dinner to make up.
I slammed my hips against her ass so hard, it was turning that special shade of pink. I spanked her a couple of times, lightly, and she cried out. “Chandler fuck, I’m coming.” Her body wrenched and she moaned, tightening around me. My spine tingled.
I came hard inside her, my cock twitching as I shot spurts into her.
“Fuck, Amy,” I said when we were done, panting.
“Just stay like this for a second,” she begged, closing her eyes, and grabbing onto my hips. “I love feeling you like this.”
The rush of the moment was over, but I still hadn’t told her I loved her. The words lingered on my tongue. I swear, I was about to say them when there was a strong knock at the door.
“Coming!” I shouted back.
Amy giggled. “You mean you already came.”
“Ha-ha,” I said as I pulled my pants up from my ankles. Amy pulled her dress back down.
“You ready to go become respectable members of society again?” I asked.
She shrugged. “Do we have to?”
I nodded. “Unfortunately.”
We washed our hands, cleaned up a bit, and headed outside to enjoy the rest of our dinner.
The look on the guy’s face when the two of us walked out together was priceless.
Twenty-Six
Amy
Back at the table, the vibe was different now, in spite of the envelope that sat on the table between us. “You make me high, Chandler. And I don’t want this to end,” she breathed, her voice a bit throaty her eyes seared into mine.
I swallowed, reaching a hand toward her. “I don’t want this to end, either.”
She took my hand, interlocking her fingers with mine. The server interrupted us our moment with our main course.
“Steak for the lady, short rib for you, sir. Anything else I can get you?”
We shook our heads. When our server had left, she spoke again. “What are we going to do?”
“We’ll figure something out,” I repeated but I had no idea how. Amy leaving tomorrow was really going to happen. Our whole lives were on different continents. It would be crazy to just…change all that on a whim, wouldn’t it?
The hope in her eyes turned into a smile that spread across her face. She took a deep breath, cutting into her steak and saying nothing in return.
I reiterated, as firmly as possible, “I don’t know how we’ll do it, but we’ll figure out a way, Amy.”
She set her fork and knife down on the plate, a worried look on her face. “I’m scared, though,” she said, quietly, meeting my gaze. “I don’t want to do long distance. In the past, it’s gone straight downhill.”
“Well, I’m not like any of the other guys you’ve dated. Would you agree?”
“Yes, but…”
I leaned over and whispered in her ear. “You can Skype striptease for me any time you want.” I brushed a thumb across her cheek and her breath caught.
“Chandler. I know…” She paused, taking a deep breath. “But this is all moving so fast. It’s a little hard to believe how strong my feelings are for you.”
“Same here.”
I sat back, and searched for the appropriate words to tell her she meant everything to me. In my past, I’d always been an expert at saying the right thing to a girl at the right time to get what I wanted. But now, there was no right thing. There was only the truth. And I kept stopping myself short of saying those truths, and I couldn’t fathom why. I knew what I felt was real but the old Chandler was still there, fighti
ng the new me emerging. If Amy left, would all those feelings disappear? Was I just caught in the moment? It hit me that the distance would prove what Amy meant to me. If I moved on, went back to my old ways, then it was just a perfect week. If not…
“More wine?” I asked, uncomfortable with my line of thought.
“Yes, please.” She tipped her glass toward me before I re-filled it.
We ate in silence for a few long minutes. It wasn’t uncomfortable but we were both kind of in our own heads, probably thinking about the same thing. Amy had given me some news, so I decided to give her some of my own. My voice came out dark and a little hoarse. “My shot came back this week,” I said, clearing my throat.
She stopped in mid-motion, about to fork her food into her mouth, and gave me a confused look. “Your shot? What shot?”
I ran a hand through my hair. “My shot has been off all year since the season started back in October. Coach was about to tell me to stop taking three pointers it got so bad. Since you’ve been here, my shot came back. I don’t know why exactly, although I have my theories.”
A slow and solid smile spread across her face. “Is this your middle school way of telling me you really really like me? That you shoot the ball better when I’m here?”
I laughed, somewhat awkwardly. “Yeah, I guess,” was what came out.
“So your shot came back, and I’ve stopped taking my meds. Sounds like we are pretty much the cure for each others ailments.” Amy flashed her dark brown eyes at me. “There is something I’ve been wondering, actually. If you don’t mind. It’s not as personal as your dad.”
“Oh?” I asked, trying not to tense. Whenever Amy ‘wondered’ about something, it was usually pretty devastating. At least for me, but I was starting to get used to it, though she always managed to take me by surprise. “What is it?”
“I’ve seen you at practice and in the two games since I’ve been here,” she said, leaning forward. “You’re better than just good. Why don’t you play for the NBA in the U.S.? Why do you play in Europe? You’ve never told me.”
The Casanova Experience: A Friends to Lovers Romance (Ballers Book 2) Page 24
