Permanent Lines

by Ashley Wilcox

  I’ve come a long way and done some stupid shit, but I think I’ve turned out to be a decent person. But I’ve never had a long term girlfriend, I never really dated … I’ve never been in love. Some may say that it was sad, like Old Man Rich, but it didn’t faze me in the slightest … at least not until now—not until Amelia.

  I brushed my arm across my forehead, feeling the sweat beading even more than before on my forehead. My heart was beating so damn fast that I worried it’d jump from my chest, and my breathing had turned into almost a pant. Jesus Christ. It couldn’t be … no, I couldn’t … fucking A …

  I may have never loved another human being—especially a girl, I may have never wanted anything more with anyone else, I may have never been in love; but fuck, I was.

  I was in love with Amelia.

  Fucking shit! I loved her. I loved a girl I couldn’t have. I loved a girl I barely knew. I loved a girl who didn’t love me.

  “When’s your birthday?” she had asked as we’d crawled back into my bed after getting home from perusing the city.

  “April 1st,” I had told her, pulling her back into my chest.

  She flipped to face me. “You’re kidding!” she said, not believing me.

  I shook my head. “Not in the slightest, baby.”

  “Your birthday is April Fools’ Day?”

  I nodded. “Damn straight!”

  She chuckled. “Wow,” she said, sounding impressed.

  “What?”

  “Nothing.” She shook her head. “It’s just fits you.”

  I lifted on my elbow, trying my best to look offended. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  She snickered. “Because you’re a wise-ass,” she smiled, “so being born on April Fools’ Day makes sense.”

  I pushed her back so that she fell into the sheets. “Whatever!” I leaned over her, acting mad.

  She looked up at me with a sparkle in her eye and a smile that could melt my heart down to nothing. Her arms wrapped around my neck as her head lifted to meet my lips with hers.

  “I never said it was a bad thing,” she whispered before kissing me.

  I had something else to say—I wanted to live up to my wise-ass demeanor, but my mind went completely blank. Damn this girl! She was intoxicating.

  God, I missed her.

  It was the day after my birthday and hot as fuck. Since when was it this hot in April? Two weeks ago, I swear it was snowing. I didn’t feel like doing shit or even moving out of my bed, since Amelia was in my dreams yet again last night, but Kayla insisted that I meet her at the park. She’s one of those girls that gets her way regardless, so I didn’t even bother arguing anymore.

  “I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever!” she gushed when I arrived, looping her arm with mine as we made our way down the paved pathway.

  I was already sweating my ass off. Why she thought it was a smart idea to come here on the most humid ass day, I’ll never know … But whatever, it’d been way longer than normal since we’d hung out last, so I didn’t care.

  “Yeah, well, someone’s been locked up in the penthouse fucking the rich kid,” I joked, raising my eyebrows with a devilish grin.

  She nudged my side, acting annoyed. “Tell the whole world, why don’t you?!”

  I laughed at her expense, but let’s be frank, everyone in Manhattan already knew who the wealthiest bachelor was sleeping with. Kayla and Miles had been getting more face time than the damn celebrities lately. Before Kayla, Miles was the sleazeball millionaire of New York City, co-owner of the biggest entertainment television network, a guy with a new chick on his arm every week. Seeing him linked with one girl for months was just unheard of, which kept the paparazzi and gossip magazines on their toes, trying to find out who the woman was that tamed the man-whore. For a while, I didn’t believe it myself. I wanted to kill the fucker for getting close to Kayla. She was different—not of his group. Kayla, like me, had a shitty past, growing up in the dirty hustle and bustle of Las Vegas, so it was strange to see her with the golden boy toy of New York City. To my surprise, and apparently everyone else’s too, the damn tool actually loved her and worked hard to make it right with her. I guess you could say we’re chill now, but I’ll always have one eye open when it comes to Miles Blackwell. Although he was a mush with Kayla, he was simply authoritative to everyone else. Some may call him an asshole, but really, he was just a rich business guy that liked to appear powerful. I always thought it was just because he had a small dick—compensating for something else, which quite possible could still be true, was pretty common. I’ve never asked, but he’s just Mr. High Profile New Yorker, so I guess he can do what he wants.

  “The world already knows, sweetheart,” I said, looking down at her with an amused grin.

  She rolled her eyes. “Anyway,” she replied, her annoyance evident, “what’s new with you? Any new ones getting the golden ticket to Merrick Drake’s apartment?”

  Funny how when it came to her sex life, she was quick to get embarrassed and switch to a different subject, but when it came to my personal life, all the cards were on the table. How typical.

  “What is this Willy Wonka thing? Find the golden ticket and get a tour of Merrick Drake’s bed?” I bumped my shoulder against hers. “Have you been getting tips on giving me shit from Micah? Sounds like one of his winners.”

  Her eyes went all wide and excited. “How fun would that be?” she asked, excited. “Girls love chocolate, then mixed with a little you on the side …” She nudged me, insinuating dirty things.

  “Ugh!” I took a step away, giving her a disgusted look. “Issues!” I yelled. “You guys have major, major issues!”

  “Whatever!” she laughed. “It was a good idea.”

  This time I rolled my eyes. “How am I even friends with you guys?” I joked.

  She curled her fingers on both hands, putting them together, forming a heart. “Because you love us,” she said all sweet and fluttering her eyelashes a little too dramatically.

  I shook my head before wrapping my arm around her shoulders, squeezing her into my side and starting to walk again. “Yeah, you’re real lucky that I do.”

  “Seriously, though, you gotta put yourself out there, Merrick,” she said, changing her tune to all seriousness, taking a breath before adding, “I want you to be happy.”

  “Who said I was looking?”

  “Who said you weren’t?”

  Touché, my friend.

  True, I wasn’t not looking, but I wasn’t really looking either. It’d been a while since I cared about seeing someone … not since … I shook my head—I wasn’t going there. It had been two months and I finally felt like I was making some progress, like I was going through a twelve-step program. The dreams had been getting a little fewer and farther between at least.

  “Point taken,” I conceded, “but I don’t need a chick. They’re all drama and come with shit that I don’t feel like dealing with. I don’t have the time for anyone, either.”

  “Not all women are crazy.”

  I looked at her in question, an eyebrow raised, warranting a slap on the arm.

  “Whatever asshole, I’m not crazy!”

  “I beg to differ.”

  This time she pushed me, almost landing me on my ass. Kayla laughed her ass off.

  “You’re going down!” I pointed at her, revenge in my eyes.

  She wasn’t taking me seriously, though, laughing at my threat. “I’d love to see you try!”

  Kayla insisted that I meet her friend Nova. I’m not quite sure why I agreed, but I did. I wasn’t excited in the least, but I reminded myself over and over that Kayla wouldn’t set me up with someone completely crazy and that this was a good thing; maybe it would get me to stop thinking about Amelia. I didn’t openly talked to Kayla about Amelia still hovering in the back of my head, but she knew. She hadn’t met her, being away that weekend, but knew something was up with me as soon as she got back. I told her the gist of it, but never went past that, though
anyone could fucking tell how the whole situation affected me. I was like a bomb, ready to explode at any second—”proceed with caution” written on my fucking forehead. So I guess I was ready to give the whole “getting out there” a whirl. What could I fucking lose? I couldn’t be in any less shape than I was before, that’s for damn sure.

  The only thing that was making me cringe about the whole situation was the fact that Kayla was trying to hook me up with Miles’ high profile, wipe my ass with hundred dollar bills chicks.

  I don’t like rich bitches. I’m not saying that they’re all the same, but let’s be frank, they all liked to flaunt their wealth in some way or another. Whether it was carrying around a Gucci or whatever the fuck designer purses they liked, or rolling around in a gold-plated Phantom, they liked to show their shit off and that just wasn’t me. I could never relate and I found myself more annoyed as shit than anything when they talked—they always had that hoity-toity slang to their tone and it was like nails on a fucking chalkboard. Kayla may parade around with the rich folk now and blend in perfectly, but before Miles she was just another one of us—average middle class with a story, a girl with a dark past that many wouldn’t dream of stepping into or could even think of surviving in.

  Since persistence is Kayla’s middle name, she haunted—yes, haunted me—for weeks that I should “at least just meet her.” Nova, that is. Her friend who is “just perfect for me.” So I caved, handing over my balls, and agreed, but did the cop out, not-so-interested move and asked if Nova (what kind of rich girl name is Nova, anyway?) wanted to meet for lunch. It was the epitome of “at least just meet her” but I had a logical excuse—I owned a bar and had to work at night. It was completely legit.

  I turned the corner to where the café was just a couple minutes before twelve. I didn’t think a girl would be early or even on time, so I didn’t bother looking for her, instead taking a seat at a round table just inside the entrance, next to the window. I couldn’t help but take notice of the girl sitting at the corner table next to me. She was fucking hot as hell with long, wavy, auburn hair and the bluest eyes I’d ever seen. We made eye contact at the same time and I could’ve sworn I saw her cheeks turn a little rosier. I grinned but turned away before I found myself staring. With my luck, I’d get caught checking out a girl while waiting for another. I used every ounce of eye muscle to look away, but found myself still peeking at her from the corner.

  She was cupping a coffee with both hands and staring out the window. She looked nervous, like she was waiting for someone. Immediately, I was distracted thinking about who she could be waiting for—a friend, family member … maybe a husband? No, she didn’t have a wedding ring, or anything, on that finger actually, though I guess not all people wear wedding bands now. But she could still have a boyfriend …

  I shook my head and turned my focus to the door, where a woman had just walked in. She was cute, but nothing spectacular. I smiled just in case it was Nova; if it were, it wouldn’t be a very long lunch. She wasn’t my type, but the girl continued to the counter, acting unaffected and nothing like she was meeting anyone here.

  Not her.

  A couple walked in next a few minutes later. I tilted my head down to look at my watch. It was already a quarter after twelve. No way was this bitch standing me up! I was starting to get annoyed, so I pulled my phone from my pocket and texted Kayla.

  Me: I think your friend is standing me up. Stellar choice.

  It was only seconds before she replied.

  Kayla: No way-she was all excited. I’m texting her now.

  I looked around while I waited. The hot girl was still there, but on her phone. I watched as she typed away; for some reason it seemed entertaining to watch her thumbs flying across the screen. A small piece of hair fell to her face as she looked down, but she brushed it back with her finger, placing it behind her ear. She put her phone on the table then looked around. I almost fell out of my chair from looking away so fast. Did she catch me checking her out?

  I decided to make myself useful while I waited for Kayla’s reply, confirming that her rich bitch friend wasn’t coming, and went over to the counter to order a bottled water.

  Kayla: Just talked to her-she’s there. Are you at the right café?

  I didn’t have time to respond before my phone started ringing. Of course she couldn’t wait for me to respond. She didn’t even wait for me to say hello.

  “Are you at the one near my apartment?”

  “Good afternoon to you too, and yes I’m at the one near your apartment, genius.”

  “Well, she’s there. I just talked to her.”

  I looked around again, making sure I didn’t miss anyone. It was too hot to sit outside, so if she was here, I would be able to see her.

  “That’s a negative. There’s one chick with red hair. That’s it.”

  “That’s her!!!”

  I looked over to the girl I’ve been getting a half chub over for the last twenty minutes, not believing it was true. “You said this chick had long dark hair,” I reminded her, still not believing it.

  “It is. It’s like a dark auburn color.”

  “No! You did not tell me dark auburn. You said dark—there’s a difference!”

  “Well, whatever. That’s her. Good luck!” Click.

  Shaking my head, I slid my phone back in my pocket and stared a little longer at the girl in the corner. I still couldn’t believe it; this was too good to be true. I nodded my head with a pleased grin—this chick was hot—before grabbing my water from the counter and walking in her direction.

  She looked up as soon as she saw me standing beside her. She had little freckles around her nose that made her look fucking adorable and her eyelashes were so long that they had to be fake. But I didn’t care—she was beautiful, sex on a stick.

  “Is your name Nova, by any chance?” I asked with a questionable grin and a hint of interest and amusement.

  Her cheeks blushed again, this time more than before. I loved how my words and presence affected her already.

  “It is.” She smiled as she answered, revealing her perfectly straight, white teeth.

  The girl was absolutely flawless. I wasn’t usually one for redheads, but this one took the cake. I didn’t care what shade her hair was, she was solid—hot and mesmerizing. Rich or not, I wanted to get to know her.

  “Well, apparently you were my lunch date,” I looked down at my watch as I took the seat next to her, “a half hour ago.” I smiled and gave her a wink. “Sorry about that.”

  She giggled and pushed her hair behind her ear again, almost seeming embarrassed. “Well, we kind of had lunch together,” she shrugged her shoulders, “from a distance, at least. With a coffee and water.”

  I chuckled, holding up my water. “That’s true,” I agreed. “Are you down for getting a real lunch, though? I kinda feel bad that we spent half of our date at separate tables.”

  She smiled, revealing a sparkle in her eye. “What did you have in mind?” she asked, leaning onto her elbows.

  The inquisitive look in her eyes made me already think that she was someone that I was going to like, possibly want to know even more. The bar didn’t open until nine on Saturdays, so I had some time.

  “How ‘bout a little Langan’s?” I asked with a raised brow. Langan’s was a bar and restaurant not too far from where we were. It had all the basics—burgers, sandwiches, and cold beer, plus it was a laid back, chill place where we’d be able to talk.

  “One of my faves!” Her eyes lit up as she responded and jumped up from the table.

  I stood to join her and got a whiff of her scent, flowery but clean … fresh. I’d smelled a scent like that before. Fuck! Not now, Merrick. Of course she smelled like Amelia, only not as good. I mean, she smelled good, but not like my Amelia. My Amelia? Jesus Christ!

  I forced a smile, not wanting to look insane as I stood there and stared at her while I had an internal fight with myself. She caught my eyes quickly glancing down the length of he
r body—it was nice … real nice. Her chest was perfect; I wasn’t an expert on tits, but I’d guess they were at least a C. Her waist was trim, but not too trim; she had curves, nice ones you could hold onto in the heat of the moment, and I appreciated that. The twitch of firmness in my cock certainly indicated no opposition. The only thing that kind of was a negative for her was she was tall, not too much shorter than I was. I don’t know what it was, but I like girls a little shorter, ones I could bear hug and make feel secure. Girls close to me in height almost took away from my manhood; it was like they made me feel smaller. I don’t know … it just wasn’t a turn on for me, but whatever. Nova was hot and intriguing, so I guess I couldn’t be too picky. I wasn’t Mr. Perfection. I wasn’t an ugly dude, but I wasn’t anything out of the ordinary either—I had a brown hair that was buzzed short and regular old brown eyes. Yeah, I had a strong build that girls seemed to like, and I guess the tattoos tickled girls’ fancy, as well, but that’s it; nothing crazy.

  Needing to make a move, I placed my left hand on her lower back. “Ready?” I asked, my “I’m interested” smirk on my face.

  Her cheeks flushed again, this time getting a more of a rise underneath my pants. Dammit, I loved how I affected this chick. She was a sweet thang, and I fucking loved it.

  She nodded her head before replying, “Yes.”

  The restaurant was busy for lunch with no tables available, so we took two stools at the bar instead. Immediately, she turned in my direction, her legs crossed and to the left of mine. I guess a perk of tall girls was that their legs went on forever; hers definitely did and once I noticed, it seemed I couldn’t think of anything else. I could only imagine how well they would wrap around my waist and lock behind my back. Dammit! I had to stop. Nova made me feel like a hormone-pumped teenage boy at the peak of puberty.