Chronicles of a Hot Mess

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Chronicles of a Hot Mess Page 11

by S. E. Rose


  Nate got up from her bed. “I’m heading to bed. See you in the manana,” he said as he went to his room.

  “Night, Natie,” Lyla called out.

  Chapter 13

  Lyla walked out of the bathroom the next morning to find Nate with her phone.

  “What the hell, Nate?” she said. “You can’t just get into my phone whenever you want.”

  “Sorry, it was an emergency. Oh, and Mills wants us to bring her favorite toilet paper over,” he said.

  “I beg your pardon,” Lyla replied.

  “Gran Mills texted you and said and I quote ‘The TP here is horrendous. My hemorrhoids are going to have babies soon if I don’t get my flushable wipes. Bring them ASAP or I’ll need to have ass surgery by Friday.’”

  Lyla stifled a laugh and groaned at the same time. “I swear, that woman has no filter,” she said.

  Nate laughed. “No shit, Sherlock,” he said as he handed her the phone and then his face went pale as he looked at his.

  “Nate, what’s wrong?”

  “Uh, oh God,” he mumbled as he pressed his phone screen.

  “Nate!” Lyla said louder.

  “I...uh...oh shit...that’s unfortunate,” he stammered.

  “What is unfortunate?” Lyla asked.

  “I...uh...may have just sent Amery a dick pic,” he said.

  “You what?!” Lyla screamed.

  “I accidentally deleted Brian’s dick pic last night, when...anyhow, I was going to text it back to myself from your phone, but I must have clicked on Amery Walsh. Oops,” he grimaced.

  Lyla launched herself at Nate and grabbed the phone and then stared in horror as the last text to Amery showed the dick pic from Brian. “I am going to kill you!” she yelled.

  “Now, now, Ly. Let’s not freak out. Maybe he won’t get the—” his sentence was cut short by the ping from Lyla’s phone indicating a text message. They both froze and glanced down to see a text from Amery.

  Amery: Lyla? Something I should know?

  Lyla immediately jumped back onto Nate, knocking him to the floor and smacking his chest.

  “You asshole! First the butt plug, now the dick pic! How the fuck am I supposed to explain that?!” she screamed.

  Nate gripped Lyla’s hands and flipped them over so she was on her back. “Calm down. Let’s just think about this for a moment,” Nate said as Lyla struggled to free herself.

  “Calm down! Calm down! Are you crazy? The first guy who’s shown interest in me in over two years and you just texted him a dick pic after our first actual date?” her voice rose with each word until she was practically screeching at him.

  “OK, OK. Sorry. My bad,” Nate tried to apologize but Lyla managed to struggle free and got up, slapping Nate in the back of the head as she threw on clothes.

  “You suck!” she yelled.

  “OK, how about this? You tell Amery that your phone was hijacked by teenage hackers. Or, better yet, you tell him that your phone was stolen, but we used that Find Friends app and got it back, but not before they used your phone to take dick pics and send them to everyone you know. I can just start sending—” Nate was unable to finish typing in contacts as Lyla grabbed her phone back from him yet again.

  “Are you insane? Why on earth would you think it was a good idea to send all my contacts dick pics? Seriously? My boss is in my contacts list!” She was now beside herself.

  Nate ripped her phone out of her hand and pressed call, and then held it high in the air so Lyla couldn’t reach it. She tried in vain to jump off her bed and grab it, but Amery had already picked up.

  “Lyla?” Amery’s voice filled the air.

  “Hey, Amery. It’s Nate. I was just calling because I fucked up and accidentally sent you a dick pic from Lyla’s phone. I just wanted to call and apologize about that. Totally my bad, bro,” Nate said and gave Lyla a huge wink.

  Lyla face-planted on her bed and screamed into a pillow.

  “What’s that noise?” Amery asked. “And where’s Lyla?”

  “Oh, right, here. Just a minute,” Nate said and handed Lyla the phone.

  “Hello?” Lyla said against the pillow, which sounded more like “fwellwhoa.”

  “Lyla?” Amery said.

  Lyla rolled over. “Yep.”

  “You OK?”

  “Sure, I hope you can recommend a good defense attorney because after I murder Nathan, I’ll be needing one,” she said.

  Amery laughed. “Oh, don’t be too hard on the guy. It was an honest mistake and I’m sure there’s a great story there.”

  Lyla rolled her eyes. “There’s always a great story there,” she groaned. Amery laughed.

  “We still on for dinner?” Amery asked.

  “Yup,” Lyla said as she stood and grabbed her bag.

  “Great, see you at seven,” Amery said.

  “OK, see you then,” she answered and tossed a pillow at Nate’s face as she left the room.

  Chapter 14

  Amery

  It’d been a long day and he still had to pack for his business trip, but he raced home and changed so he wouldn’t waste a single minute of time away from Lyla. He should be prepping for meeting two potential players; he should be organizing his notes for the gala speech he was supposed to give on Saturday; he should be doing about a hundred different things, but instead, he was pulling into Lyla’s driveway.

  He knocked on the door and Brian answered.

  “Hey, man, how are you?” he asked him.

  “Good. Come on in. Lyla’s beautifying or some shit,” he said with no further explanation and waltzed back toward the kitchen.

  Amery followed him and walked into a scene that was so chaotic that he almost thought for a moment he had walked onto one of those cooking competition shows. Pots and pans littered the counter, three different chopping blocks lay on various surfaces with partially chopped vegetables scattered on them, something was bubbling over on the stove, a blender sat on the counter half-filled with some kind of liquid and its lid sat in the sink atop a mass of other random kitchen artifacts, and Nate, wearing an apron, pranced around in a jerky manner attempting to do the work of five sous chefs.

  “Hey, Nate,” Amery said. He almost took a seat next to Brian at the breakfast bar, but quickly noticed that there was flour all over the remaining seats. So instead, he leaned against the wall and watched the cooking catastrophe.

  “Uh, hey, Amery,” Nate said, not bothering to look his way. “She’ll be down in a minute.”

  “Uh huh,” Amery said with a smirk toward Brian who was sitting sipping some kind of cocktail and looking completely amused, yet not bothering to lend a hand. What a douche! Amery thought to himself.

  “You need any help over there, Nate?” Amery asked.

  “Uh...nope. No. I’m good,” Nate said as he spilled something while walking back to stir whatever was “simmering” on the stove.

  “I’m coming!” Lyla yelled as he heard her run down the stairs. Oh yes, I’d like that, he chuckled wickedly to himself.

  Brian glanced his way and raised an eyebrow while smirking, clearly understanding what Amery was thinking. Amery grinned and shrugged as Lyla came through the threshold of the door right next to where Amery leaned on the wall. He grabbed her, and she squealed as he whipped her around to face him.

  She clutched her chest. “Holy shit! You scared me!” she said loudly.

  He laughed. “You ready?” he asked.

  She was wearing a cute sundress and strappy sandals and he suddenly realized he should have told her to wear something more comfortable. He held her at arm’s length and examined her outfit more closely. Her legs were shapely, and her dress made her seem like the little fairy he envisioned in his head when he thought of her. He grinned at her.

  He allowed her a moment to examine him and then he saw it, the moment of recognition.

  “Uh, I...should I change?” she stuttered, biting her bottom lip which was painted in the most delicious shade of dark pink he had eve
r seen.

  “I think that would be wise,” he replied to her.

  “Give me two minutes,” she told him as she sprinted back up the steps, tripping once on the way up which resulted in all three men yelling if she was alright.

  “Yeah!” she yelled before he heard a bedroom door slam.

  “So, where are you two off to tonight?” Nate asked as he tasted his concoction.

  “I figured we’d do some B&E and then maybe beat some delinquent punks over at the mall before wrapping up with a good old-fashioned serial killing,” he said deadpan.

  Nate’s eyes went wide, and then he doubled over in laughter. “Well, good luck with that. You’ve picked the world’s worst partner in crime. I’d say I’d be available to bail you out of jail later, but serial killings are where I draw my jail-bailing line,” he said with a chuckle as he held out a spoon for Brian to taste from.

  “Good,” Brian murmured as he looked at Nate who smiled at him.

  Amery suddenly felt a bit like a voyeur. He cleared his throat. “What are you cooking, Nate?” he asked.

  “Uh, Gran Mill’s chicken pot pie and a French onion soup and some apple pie for dessert,” he said. Amery looked around the kitchen again and found it hard to believe that all that mess was just for those three things, but he nodded and shrugged.

  “How’s Gran Mill?” he asked as he heard Lyla come back downstairs. She skipped back into the kitchen, wearing shorts, a t-shirt, and running shoes. Her hair was up in a high ponytail.

  “She’s good,” Nate and Lyla said simultaneously.

  “Jinx,” they both said.

  There was then utter silence in the room as the two stared each other down. Amery looked to Brian for an explanation of why Nate and Lyla, two grown adults, were playing jinx. Brian rolled his eyes.

  A timer buzzed, and Nate tossed a hand out. “I cave. I gotta get this pie in the oven for dessert. You kids have fun,” he said as he leaned over what Amery suspected was the chicken pot pie in the oven.

  “You two have fun,” Lyla said as she turned and headed out toward the front door. Amery followed her, his eyes glued to her perfectly shaped ass that was further highlighted by the tight and very short pair of shorts.

  “So, Gran Mill is OK then?” he asked again as they got in this car.

  “Yeah, I mean she hates the rehab place, but she’s doing well. She’s mostly just super pissed about her car. I think they are letting her out of rehab next week, but we’ll need to set her up downstairs for a while. Sounds like her cast is on for at least eight weeks,” she explained.

  “Well, I’m glad she’s alright,” Amery said and gave Lyla a small smile.

  “Me too,” she agreed. “Soooo, where are we going?”

  “I could tell you, but I’d have to kill you,” he said to her.

  She rolled her eyes. But he could tell that her curiosity was piqued because she eyed him suspiciously as he drove. He tried to contain the smile that was threatening to emerge across his face.

  “Seriously, where are we going?” she prodded.

  “It’s a surprise. Just go with it,” he said to her. She crossed her arms and pouted, and he chuckled.

  “Fine,” she said and looked out the window, seemingly ignoring him. He turned on music, and they drove in silence. It didn’t take him long to reach their destination. He turned into a parking lot in the city center. Lyla gave him a look of curiosity.

  He got out of the car and grabbed a picnic basket. He took her hand in his, reveling in its warmth and led them down through the parking lot and into an outdoor amphitheater.

  A band was setting up on a stage at the bottom of the amphitheater and about fifty people were milling around, some in beach chairs, some on blankets and some just sat on the cement steps in between the grassy areas. He laid down a blanket and then motioned for Lyla to take a seat. She grinned and sat down. He had called in a favor with a local chef he knew and now he began to set out the contents of the picnic basket.

  He poured Lyla a glass of sparkling cider as he set out an appetizer of some kind of small bread with a cheese spread, olives, and smoked salmon with some sort of herb on top. He held out the dish to Lyla who took one. She moaned as she bit into it and once again he had to force himself to not think sexual thoughts, but as she closed her eyes and licked her lips, he could feel the blood pumping to his dick.

  He forced himself to look away and pull out finger sandwiches, some kind of meat on a stick with a dipping sauce, and a ceviche. He set it all out on the blanket and he took a bite of the appetizer as well. It was fucking amazing, and he groaned at the taste of it. Damn, he owed Erik one. That man could seriously cook.

  “This is amazing! Did you make all of this?” she asked as she helped herself to a finger sandwich.

  “No, my friend Erik is a chef, and he packed us up some goodies,” he explained.

  “Well, hats off to Erik. You know a lot of chefs,” she said as she took a sip of cider.

  He shrugged and raised his glass to hers. “To Gran Mill, cheers to a quick recovery,” Amery said as he clinked her glass. She smiled shyly and took a sip of her drink.

  “So, who’s playing?” she asked, motioning to the stage.

  “A local group that my friend recommended. I think they mostly do cover songs.” He shrugged. “I thought we could go for a walk afterward,” he added, waving his hand in the air toward the lake behind the stage.

  “Sure,” she said with a smile as she tucked her legs underneath her. The band started to play, and Lyla watched intently. He snuck glimpses of her, watching the way she tapped her hand on her exposed thigh and her head bobbed in time to the music.

  She caught him watching her at one point and gave him a smile.

  “You come alive with music,” he whispered into her ear as he leaned in close to her, looking for an excuse to feel the heat of her body.

  She blushed. “I like music,” she said softly, turning her head toward him so that their faces were mere inches apart.

  “I can tell,” he murmured against her ear. He watched as goose bumps appeared on her arms and he smirked. He clearly affected her as much as she affected him.

  “Cold?” he asked her.

  “I’m fine,” she answered.

  They listened to the next few songs in silence. The group started to play an old-school classic and a few couples got up and started dancing off to the side.

  “Come on,” Amery urged as he held out a hand to Lyla.

  She gripped his hand, and he pulled her up in a fluid movement, straight into his arms. He walked them back toward an open space and started to slow dance with her. Her hands came up around his neck and he held her tightly to him. They began to sway to the music, their eyes locked. In the lamplight of the amphitheater, he could see flecks of green and navy blue in her irises. Her dark lashes fanned out against her cheeks, pulling his gaze to her eyes.

  They remained eye-locked through the entire song. He couldn’t look away from her. He felt like she was looking into his soul and he barely knew her, hell, she barely knew him. That realization was like a blast of cold water on him, and he pulled back. He didn’t want to rush this.

  “Let’s go for a walk,” he said.

  “OK,” she agreed slowly. They packed up their picnic and put it away in his car, and then just as the sky was turning completely dark, they began to walk around the lake, hand in hand.

  “Thanks for the picnic,” she said to him. “I haven’t had a picnic in...well, a really, really long time.”

  “I’m glad you enjoyed yourself,” he told her as they watched a deer cross the path in front of them.

  They stopped and watched in awe as the beautiful creature glanced their way and then took off into the woods.

  “I could never get tired of seeing things like that,” she said quietly.

  “You really love where you live, don’t you?” he asked her.

  “I do,” she admitted. “What about you?”

  “I like it here.
I grew up in Atlanta near the city. It was nice, but I never felt a connection to the place. I went to college in California and loved it there. I don’t know. I guess for me, home is wherever you are,” he tried his best to explain himself.

  “I like that philosophy,” she said. “Your family still lives in Atlanta?”

  “Yeah, I have two little sisters, Cara and Liz. Liz is at grad school at Emory and Cara is a caterer. My parents still live there,” he expanded.

  “What do your parents do?” she asked.

  “Well, my dad used to play ball, but he does marketing for the team now. And my mom just retired from teaching, but she still tutors.”

  “Are you close to your sisters?”

  “Yes and no. They were a few years younger than me and they are only eighteen months apart, so they’re very close. To be honest, I always felt more like a third parent to them than a sibling. But now that we’re all adults, I’ve been getting to know them better. I love them, don’t get me wrong, I just feel a little like an outsider at times,” he admitted.

  “I’m sure they loved having a big brother growing up,” she encouraged.

  He laughed. “Sure, when I wasn’t torturing them or teasing them.”

  She laughed, but then a sadness descended upon her.

  “Sorry,” he said. “It must be hard, having lost a sibling.”

  She nodded. “I don’t really remember him much. Just flashes of memories really. Nate has been more like a brother than my own brother ever was. I mean, because he was so young.”

  “I understand.”

  “It’s not that I don’t love my family. I do, but every once in a while, I get a little sad. You know, wondering what my life would have been like with my parents and brother,” she acknowledged.

  “I suppose that’s natural. I mean everyone wonders about something like that about their life. I mean what if I hadn’t injured myself? Would I still be playing ball? Not that you can compare those two things. I just mean it’s expected that you would wonder about it,” he said.

  “No, you’re right. I mean, yes, my situation is a sort of tragic one, but lots of people have things that happen to them and change the course of their future, for good and for bad,” she said. “Or sometimes, it just changes it, not for bad or good.”

 

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