by Drew Elyse
“I’ve studied piano since age five, and when I wanted to learn guitar, my mom insisted I take lessons from a classically trained teacher. Classical music has been a huge part of my life.”
I nodded. “Me, too.”
“So is Chopin you favorite composer, or was the ‘Raindrop Prelude’ just a nod to the weather?”
“I love Chopin, but I wouldn’t say he is my favorite. I really don’t do favorites. I have fleeting obsessions with artists, or pieces, or books. I almost never choose one to be the most important to me.”
“Do you compose?” he asked.
“Sometimes. I don’t even really mean to, but when I sit at the piano, sometimes the music just comes out on its own.”
He watched me for a while. I wondered if the way I talked about music like it controlled me made him think I was odd, but he never said anything about it. Eventually, his steady gaze made me too uncomfortable. I stood, and told him I was going to get ready.
“Alex will kill me if I don’t actually get ready and make myself ‘hot’ for tonight,” I say, rolling my eyes at my ridiculous best friend again.
Logan glanced at the clock, and then back at me. His gaze seemed perusing as he considered me. “I don’t think you need 45 minutes to do that,” he said, shrugging, “but I’ll admit Alex is a bit intimidating when she doesn’t get her way.”
Turning immediately to hide the inferno that was my cheeks, I retreated to the safety of my room. When I shut the door, I felt air rush into my lungs. What the hell was that? I thought. It was clear, already, that living with Logan was going to include a lot of me feeling embarrassed.
A few minutes after nine, I heard a buzzer sound, followed shortly after by Eli and Alex entering the apartment. I checked myself in the mirror again. My hair was styled with soft, wavy curls that I had pulled mostly to the right side of my neck. I had a purple satin tank on, paired with black skinny jeans and black patent leather pumps. My smoky eye make-up came out perfectly, thanks to intensive lessons from Alex over the years. All in all, I felt pretty good about the whole look.
When I walked into the living room, however, I saw that I was wrong. Alex had a stern look on her face that contrasted with her sparkly silver mini dress, wavy blond hair, and strappy heels. She did not approve.
“Really, Charlotte?”
“That’s how you decide to say ‘hi’ to me after this long?” She didn’t respond, but continued to stare me down. “What?” I asked defensively.
“You can do better than that,” she replied, encompassing my outfit with a wave of her hand.
I rolled my eyes at her and went to the fridge to pull out a bottle of water. A surge of energy rushed through me when I noticed Logan’s eyes trail down my body. It was discrete, but it happened. Alex was still watching me with disapproval.
Exasperated, I sighed dramatically. “Fine! You pick something ‘better’ then.”
When I say that her eyes lit up like a kid on Christmas, I mean it. She was thrilled at the idea of me becoming a life-sized doll for her to dress, running off to my room to search my closet.
As her flowing blond hair disappeared, I turned to my brother. “Can’t you control her?”
He just laughed in answer. “So that’s the new tattoo, huh?” he asked, pointing at my right shoulder.
On my back, in the center of my left shoulder blade, I had gotten a treble clef decorated with floral filigree. My therapist thought that getting a tattoo at such a moment of “emotional instability” was a bad idea. He said that it was ill-advised to make any major decisions for a while. I came in the following week with a still-healing tattoo and told him I was moving to Seattle.
“That’s it,” I responded with pride. Eli turned me around to inspect it, pushing the strap of my tank-top over a bit to get a clear view. Logan moved in closer, too.
“Is it by the same guy that did your lotus?” Eli asked, gingerly running his fingers over the ink.
“Yeah.”
“You have multiple tattoos?” Logan asked.
I turned back to face them again. “My first was a lotus blossom,” I explained, pulling at the hem of my pants to reveal the pink flower on the inside of my right ankle. Logan kneeled down to inspect the small design, making my heart pound with nervous energy. “And, Eli and I have matching Gaelic quotes on our ribs,” I indicated my left side, while Eli pointed to his right.
“Is that what that script is?” Logan asked.
I nodded. “An rud is annamh is ίontach.”
At Logan’s puzzled expression, Eli translated, “’What is seldom is wonderful.’ Our mom always liked to say it.”
Alex reentered the room. “Speaking of seldom and wonderful, your outfit awaits,” she said, indicating my room with a flourish.
“Oh lord.” I could tell by her comment that what she’d chosen came from the depths of my closet. The clothes back there, most of which she had insisted I purchase over the years, hardly ever made an appearance.
She winked playfully at me as I left to change. It was as if it was April Fool’s Day and she was waiting for me walk right into her prank.
Emerging for the second time from getting ready in her room, Charlotte literally knocked the wind out of me. Luckily, Alex wolf-whistled next to me, which managed to shake me back to reality before I started drooling. Charlotte stood at the mouth of the hallway, all flowing brown hair, long legs, and perfect curves in a short red dress. Her hair was pulled to the same side as the one strap, leaving her neck completely exposed on the opposite side. I tried to ignore the fact that the exposed shoulder was also the one that had her new tattoo on it. Something about the dark lines of ink forming the treble clef on her skin was unnaturally appealing. Visions of running my tongue down her neck, of those skyscraper heals wrapped around me, left my heart pounding.
Charlotte tugged gently at the hem of her dress, and Alex chastised her, “Knock it off! You look so sexy! Your legs are to die for.” The unwelcome surge of blood below my belt agreed with her.
A slight blush caught Charlotte’s cheeks again. Damn, this girl is shy. I’ve seen a lot of women fish for compliments to stroke their ego, but that wasn’t Charlotte. She really was just modest to the point of self-consciousness. As a general rule, I dislike attractive women that don’t own up to their looks, but something about Charlotte’s quiet shyness made me want to convince her of how gorgeous she was, to allow her to see herself through my eyes.
Turning to Eli, she tried another argument. “Shouldn’t you object to me dressing like this?”
“Hey, you’re 24. Remember?” he replied. “Though, admittedly, I’m going to have to keep an eye on the drunken assholes out tonight.”
I couldn’t help but think that Eli’s comment was aimed – at least partially – at me, but I was more focused on the thought of other guys being all over Charlotte. Suddenly, I was not sure I wanted to go out with her dressed like that anymore.
“Let’s just go. I’ll feel better after a drink,” Charlotte sighed, resigning to her fate of wearing Alex’s sexier outfit.
“That’s the spirit!” Alex chimed enthusiastically, wrapping an arm around her friend’s shoulders.
As the ladies led the way out of the door, Eli grabbed me by the bicep. “Keep an eye on her, okay? Don’t let her drink too much.”
“Yeah, sure.”
Sensing my confusion, he explained, “Alex can be so… distracting to me.”
Yeah, no shit, I thought. But he had not answered my question – why did Charlotte, who seemed perfectly mature and rational, need to be looked after?
“Eclipse is great. It is a bit pricey, but I think it’s worth it –ʼʼ
I cut Alex off immediately, “We’re going to Eclipse?”
Eli met my eyes in the rearview mirror, looking apologetic.
“Yeah, I thought it was a good choice for Char’s first night,” Alex replied. It was like she had completely forgotten why we had ever gone there in the first place.
I fished
out my phone to text Allison.
Me: Working tonight?
Aly: No. Why? Want to come over?
All I could think was Thank God. The last thing I needed was Allison all over me with Charlotte around. That thought forced me to remind myself, again, that it didn’t matter if Charlotte was with me, she was off limits.
Despite my better judgment, I glanced over at her. She seemed weirdly removed, pensive. There was a distinct melancholy about her face as she looked out of the window at the passing city night life. Alex was telling some story about her salon while Eli listened dutifully to every word. Neither could notice that Charlotte was not with us at all. I reached out and touched her hand lightly. She jumped, and I wondered if it was just from surprise, or if she also felt the charge that flew through me when our skin made contact.
“You okay?” I whispered.
“Yeah, just a bit tired from today,” she smiled.
Despite how unbelievably sexy she looked, when she smiled there was an innate innocence to her. Even in that short dress, my desire to protect her overwhelmed my desire for her. It was so strikingly different than Allison, or Kayla, or any of the other women I’d taken to fucking without thinking twice. It was clear in that moment that I really did need to keep my hands off of her.
Eli parked a few blocks away from the club, and we walked over. I paid everyone’s cover at the door, despite the protests I received in return. It was worth it to see Charlotte’s grateful smile shine up at me. At our table, Eli and I offered to wait around to order drinks while the girls started dancing.
“What do you want?” Eli asked them.
“Cosmo,” Alex replied without missing a beat.
“Of course,” Charlotte laughed. “I’ll just take a beer. Something decent.”
“And shots!” Alex cried.
I cocked an eyebrow and Eli rolled his eyes. “What are we shooting?” I asked. “Patrόn?”
It was impossible to ignore the immediate and palpable response of our party. Eli looked over at his sister, whose eyes had dropped to the floor. Alex looked nervously between the two of them. What did I just miss?
Eli broke through first. “How about Captain Morgan?”
Charlotte peered up at him and then nodded. “Captain’s good.”
Alex pulled Charlotte off to dance until the drinks came. After placing our order with the waitress, I turned to Eli. “Want to explain what the hell just happened?”
“It is a long story,” he responded evasively, “but the moral is that Patrόn is probably going to be off of the menu for a while.”
The waitress arrived a few minutes later and set our platter of shots and our drinks on the table. Alex was already heading back towards us, hand-in-hand with Charlotte. Both were already glistening with a thin layer of sweat, laughing. It was obvious they were glad to be reunited.
Everyone grabbed a shot glass and Alex led us in a toast. “To Charlotte! The team is back together – plus one!” She said, looking over at me. “Welcome to Seattle, baby!”
We all threw back our shots. Charlotte immediately chased her shot with a swig of beer. Alex turned to her, “Hey! Slow down, bitch! More shots first.”
With a roll of her eyes, Charlotte accepted another shot. Alex lifted hers in a toast again, “To being the sexiest bitches in the club!” Charlotte’s exasperated expression was lost on Alex as she placed the shot glass on her up-turned mouth, swallowed the contents, and let the glass roll down her cheek into her empty hand. Charlotte, with a smirk and cocked eyebrow, took her own glass in the same position, drank down the rum, then used her tongue to flip the glass forward into her waiting hand. My dick lurched in my pants again.
My initial thought that Eli wanted me to keep an eye on Charlotte because she was an inexperienced drinker disappeared. Obviously, she and Alex had not only spent a lot of time drinking in the past, but they had done so together.
Alex attempted to lead Charlotte back onto the dance floor, but she responded that she wanted to sit out for a bit. With her classic pout, Alex settled on Eli, who was only too willing to go dance with her.
“Sometimes I wonder if I was right to unleash her on Eli,” Charlotte said wistfully. Her love for both of them was wholly apparent.
“Were you guys close before you set them up?” I asked.
“Yeah. We came into each other’s lives when I needed an escape and she needed someone to keep an eye on her. She gave me my first hangover. I made sure she got home safe at night. When she met my brother, she was sold immediately. Eli thought she was hot – everyone thinks that – but he took some convincing that she was more than just a hot mess.” She watched the two dancing for a moment before she said, “I think he saved her. He’s good at that.”
I noted, with interest, that I had gotten her to say more when we talked about someone else than I had gotten her to say about herself. The only other topic she’d talked about as much was music.
“How did you guys meet?”
“Honestly?” She looked up at me and sort of sighed with discomfort before continuing. “We met at a support group. When I went several times and never said a thing, she approached me.” She looked down at the beer in her hands. “Eli didn’t know, of course. I doubt that would have been a good first impression.”
Charlotte looked sort of sad again. Without thinking, I stood and asked her to dance, once again ignoring my instructions to stay away.
She looked hesitant. “What about the drinks?”
I handed her one of the two remaining shots, which we each sank. “Forget the rest, we can get more,” I said, extending my hand to her.
“Dance with me,” he repeated.
I nearly dropped when he asked. Even following him through the crowd, I was unsure if it was a good idea to dance with someone who turned my heart into a jackhammer. But, with my hand secured in his and determination radiating off of him, there was no going back.
When we made it onto the dance floor, the crowd had thickened and Eli and Alex were no longer in our sights. A stranger bumped into me, sending me staggering backward a few steps and tugging my hand free from Logan’s. He was on me again almost instantaneously, pulling me to his chest to steady me. I looked up at him, breathless from the proximity of our bodies, feeling his toned chest and abdomen beneath his t-shirt. They were even more alluring pressed against me than they had been that afternoon in the living room.
“You okay?” he asked, leaning in close so that I could hear. Chills shot down my exposed arms and neck from the warmth of his breath. I couldn’t form words. I could only nod and try to keep my face from looking like a deer about to be struck by an 18-wheeler.
Pulling back just enough so that he could see my face, he smiled. It was the same knowing smile that I’d seen from him before, the one that seemed at once charming and almost disgustingly cocky. If there was one thing I did not want, it was for the arrogant man with his arms around me to know the effect he was having on me. Silently coaching myself, I regulated my breathing and turned around. With my back pressed against his front, I began to move to the pulsing rhythm echoing through the club.
If Logan was at all surprised by my sudden command of the situation, he managed to not let on. His hands immediately went to my hips and pulled me tightly against him. Even once I was pressed so close that I could feel every muscle of his toned core move and flex behind me, the pressure of his fingertips against my gyrating hips did not let up. He was holding me there, giving me no room to pull myself away.
There was no need to hold me. When Logan began to move, his pelvis rocking sensually against my backside, I was so enthralled that I doubt I could have gotten my body to pull away from his. I never would have expected Logan to be able to dance the way he did, with a sensual power over me that was far more intoxicating than the rum we’d been shooting.
Song after song bled together but neither of us made any move to pull away. The thought never even crossed my mind until the music slowed. The constant pressure of his ha
nds had never let up – although it had traveled around the curves of my hips and waist – until that moment. When those deft hands slackened their grip, I assumed he wanted to stop, so I started to pull away.
I was wrong.
He caught my hand and turned me back to face him. I expected to see the same arrogantly dashing smile, but instead his face looked serious and pleading. I allowed him to pull me into his arms again. I placed my right hand against his chest, which was overly warm, and I felt the fluttering heartbeat under my palm that matched my own. He took my left hand up to his neck. The thin layer of sweat on his skin made me want to run my tongue along his neck. The sensual response my body had to him was wholly unnerving. I had never felt such raw desire for anyone. Given my history, I could hardly ignore the way that Logan ignited my blood, even if I wanted to.
This was no middle school, arm length slow dance. Moving with the deep beat, Logan let his body, which was touching mine from chest to knee, lead. His eyes were locked on mine, his irises reflecting back the colors of the changing lights around us. His hands moved from resting on my hips and slowly skimmed up my back. When his rough fingertips touched the slightly damp skin of my arms, a shock ran through me, just as it had when he touched my hand in the car. He continued a soft, tickling path up the length of my arms, pushing my right hand up to encircle his neck.
As distracted as I was by his hypnotic touch, I did not realize that his hand had reached my wrist until I felt his thumb graze the scar. I froze. I kept the raised, red line hidden beneath a thick layer of make-up, but there was no disguising the raised edge from his touch. I never let anyone get close to the spot, let alone actually touch it as Logan had. How it slipped my mind, I didn’t know. It was impossible to forget it now, as his fingers traced the line down the center of my arm.
I couldn’t look up at Logan, couldn’t stand to see the confusion, or pity, or judgment that would have settled into his expression. I had to get away from him. Yanking my arm from his hold, I muttered a feeble apology as I rushed away. My shame was palpable, and I wondered if even the strangers dancing and drinking around me could feel it. Through the crowd, I could just make out the top of Eli’s head. Pushing through the mass of bodies was difficult, but I knew I just had to keep moving. When I finally reached them, seeing Alex in her element was relaxing enough to ease my adrenaline rush.
