by Aja Cole
I ignore the heat from his fingertips when they brush mine on the phone return.
Ignore ignore ignore.
That’s always been my tactic for him and it’s never failed me. It better keep working now.
“It’s good to have you back, Nova.”
“It’s good to be back, Ash.” I hug him first this time, and I hold on for way too long because I always felt the most when I was in his arms.
Ain’t unrequited love grand?
5
Asher
“Dad, where you at?” I call out as I push the door closed with my hip. I take my shoes off on the mat because he’s got this new rule about taking them off when you come in. The man’s even set up a rack against the wall, he’s so serious.
Setting the food bags on the counter, I smother a yawn and walk through the house looking for him.
There was a time when I always knew exactly where he’d be.
Day, night, early morning…you could find Weston King in his office. He was the definition of a workaholic, even before my mom passed.
He made more time for family when she was around to pull him away from work, but he threw himself into it to deal with his pain after she died.
I was 12.
I understood that he was hurting a lot, so I tried to occupy myself. Eventually, he didn’t want to stay in the house anymore so he sold it and we moved into Nova’s guest house.
It was separated from the main home and had two bedrooms and two bathrooms, so it felt like it was just our place, and Nova’s family treated it that way too.
At first, I was pretty hurt and angry that my dad just wanted to throw away the house that had so many memories of my mom. I didn’t understand why he couldn’t just keep it, even for me. I was 14, and it felt like a betrayal.
I didn’t speak to him for two weeks. I think he finally got it through his head that he wasn’t the only one grieving. I was playing video games and ignoring him when he sat next to me in silence one day.
Eventually, I looked over and he had tears running down his face. Seeing him cry made me cry, and we finally talked everything out for the first time since mom’s funeral.
That weekend, he actually made it to one of my football games, and he never missed another unless it was totally out of his control.
We moved because Dad got a promotion out of state, and I forgave him for selling the house. I realized I’d always have the memories with me wherever I went. It’s been smooth sailing ever since.
Or it was.
Then he had a prostate cancer scare.
Which brings us to me not knowing where the hell he is right now.
“Dad!” I call out again, opening the basement door. He moved here to Georgia last year and bought this house.
“Back here, son!” I finally hear, and I close the basement door, moving to the back of the house. I stop when I’m able to see through the glass doors.
My dad is standing between the open sliding doors, dabbing his forehead with a towel. That’s not what gives me pause.
It’s the multiple women in the backyard with colorful mats.
“I thought we had early dinner plans.”
He smiles wide, beckoning me closer. We look a lot alike, he’s just got salt and pepper hair and a few more lines on his face. “We do, I’m just finishing up a class.”
“A class?” I echo.
“Oh, I didn’t tell you? I teach yoga on the weekends now. Come, come, let me introduce you to the ladies.” He pushes the doors open wider, stepping onto the back deck, and I look up at the ceiling.
The old man thinks he’s slick.
This is a setup.
Apparently a consequence of your father getting a false positive for cancer and not knowing for a bit, means that when he finds out he’s healthy, he turns into a meddling match-maker.
This isn’t the first time for a coincidence.
There was him “double-booking” me for dinner with a young woman he met while he was volunteering.
There were the switched airplane seats that put me next to a single young school-teacher.
There was him sending over his new assistant in his stead when I was sick to “check on me.”
But this is more than just one woman. There are at least ten ladies, all who look suspiciously close to my age.
This has got to end.
I sigh and move out onto the deck, where all the ladies are now gathered with my dad laughing and talking.
“Ash, get down here.” I move down the stairs and try to smooth out my expression, crossing my arms.
My dad introduces each of them by name, and I feel like a piece of meat more than I ever have. I mean, the looks in these women’s eyes are like if my dad wasn’t standing next to me, they’d pounce.
“I think that’s my office phone, I’ll be right back.” My dad smiles serenely and I glance at him in what I’m sure is barely concealed panic.
“I don’t hear a phone.”
“You’re not used to listening for it.” He backs up the stairs and I grit my teeth, putting distance between me and the pack.
How could he just leave me to fend for myself like this? My virtue feels like it’s in serious jeopardy right now.
“So Asher, your dad told us you were single.” This one’s a redhead in a small sports bra with a belly ring. Jenna? Kenna? Her words are almost a purr.
“Uh, actually,” I clear my throat nervously because I think they’re closing in on me subtly, “I’m dating someone. I was going to tell my dad today, that’s why he doesn’t know yet.”
It’s not a complete lie. I know Nova’s talking to her friend Heidi and is going to give her my number. I wonder what she’ll tell her about me.
I was just about to ask Nova out when she threw out the suggestion about setting me up.
It was a bit of a blindside. I explained what happened to Riley, and she’s agreed not to quit yet. I pressed her on what Nova told her in the past, but she’s staying tight-lipped.
I haven’t been dating at all, really. I handle my needs when I get too pent-up, but that’s it. They’re specific needs so…not just something I want to spring on a one-night stand.
Honestly, it’s been hard to imagine that a real relationship would be as easy as it was living and being around Nova so I think that’s fucking me up.
But maybe it’s time to actually try. Regardless of what Riley thinks she knows, Nova’s pushing me towards another woman. To me, that doesn’t say that she’s interested.
It says that it’s time to move on and try to forget about the past. I can have my best friend back, and that might have to be enough.
What I won’t be doing is moving on with any of my dad’s yoga buddies.
“Is it a new relationship? How long have you been together?” Cropped brunette hair, pixie-like. I’ve given up on names.
“I, it’s…”
“If she hasn’t met your dad yet, can it really be that serious?” A blonde laughs, trailing her fingers over her ample cleavage, and I grimace.
I think I preferred pre-scare dad.
“You should take my number down in case you two aren’t a good fit after all.” Pixie again. Her suggestion spurs the rest of them to talk over one another saying the same, and I don’t know what else to do.
So I flee.
I fly up the stairs the same way I fly down the field, and lock the sliding door. It’s great weather outside, and my dad can unlock it after I get the hell out of here.
The traitor is sitting in his favorite chair, flipping through the pages of some book. Probably another about living your best life or something.
“You’re banned from trying to introduce me to women,” I growl. “They were ready to tear me apart out there.”
He looks over his glasses, shaking his head. “You’re an attractive, virile young man. There’s no reason you shouldn’t be with someone. Football won’t give me grandchildren.”
“What is it with parents and grandchildren. I�
��m 25. Let me live.”
“It’s because we want a second chance to raise good, obedient children.” He harrumphs and I roll my eyes.
“Can you send the pack home so we can eat in peace? I’m probably going on a date in a few days, that’s going to have to tide you over.” I throw him a bone.
“Oh, really?” He perks up, closing the book and setting it on the side table. “Okay, I’ll send the women home and you can tell me about her.”
I watch him walk away and shake my head.
Parents. What can you do with them?
6
Nova
I’m grabbing breakfast with Heidi today before I do a cover shoot for Kali Brooks, a best-selling author who’s on her third movie deal. I love shooting her cover models, because usually, she’s right there and happily giving me her vision.
All colorful hair, large glasses, and tattoos—she’s a good friend as well as a client.
But first, I have to set up two of my friends.
“Pomegranate green tea for Nova?” the barista calls out and I pick up my drink, along with my warm chocolate croissant. Nothing starts my day right like a sugar-filled carb bomb.
Heidi is already sitting down, her medium-length, nude-colored nails tapping lightly on the iPad on the table. Her highlighted blonde hair is pulled back in a cute chignon with wayward tendrils falling around her face. She looks up when I near the table, wrapping elegant fingers around her to-go cup.
“You and your green tea.” She smiles brightly.
“Hey, I drink coffee too, as you well know.” I take my seat, pulling one leg up under me. It’s my automatic sitting position for some reason, has been forever.
“I know, which is why I’ve no idea how you can even stand anything else.”
“It’s good to keep a nice balance. Tea has caffeine too.” I sip from the straw and take my croissant out of the sleeve. I can’t wait for the first flaky, decadent bite.
“So.” She slides the iPad into her bag and leans an elbow on the table, propping her chin up. “Tell me about this guy. Asher, you said?”
“Mhm.” Now that I’m here, I feel a little hesitant. Why did I tell her about him again? It’s not a good thing when your friends date each other—then you’re the odd one out and you have to listen to all their couple shit and they go on dates and you can’t talk about the same stuff.
Or at least, that’s how I imagine it would go. I don’t make it habit to set up people I know, so I’ve never experienced it.
“So, who is he? What does he do? Is he kind? Successful? Any crazy exes?” She fires the questions, and I tear a piece off my croissant, chewing slowly. In part because I’m stalling, and in part because I’m just really fucking hungry.
“He’s one of the most caring men I know,” I start, after I’ve finished chewing. “He’s…really good at what he does. He’s my ex-husband. No crazy exes because he’s been mostly focused on his career. His name is Asher King.” Like the way that I slipped that little tidbit of information in there?
“I think I mis-heard you.” She sits back. “You were married before? To him?”
“It’s a long story,” I mumble. “Anyway, it was never consummated or anything. He just helped me out of a bad situation and we were good friends.”
“So name only? I don’t want to get into anything complicated…” Her pale pink lips twist with her uncertainty.
“Nothing ever happened between us, and nothing’s going to. He’s free and clear, and I thought you two might be a good fit, that’s all.” I hope my nose isn’t growing.
There isn’t a chance for us, regardless of what Riley says. My feelings were in the past, and his were nonexistent. There’s no need to bring up any of that old stuff now.
Maybe Heidi will be great for Asher, and I’ll finally have contributed even a little bit to his life, compared to everything he’s given me.
He gave me my freedom, and that’s something I can never repay him for. He saved me from being a pawn for my family to use.
“Okay, well…you have my permission to give him my number then. He sounds intriguing.” She sips from her coffee cup, rubbing her lipstick stain lightly with her thumb.
I’m surprised that the ex-husband thing wasn’t more of a big deal, but I guess I was convincing enough with my adamance that it was in name-only.
“Great.” I finish my drink, standing. “I have a shoot, so I have to go, but you’ll probably hear from him soon. He’s not the type to play communication games.”
“He sounds perfect already.” She stands too, and puts her arms out for a brief hug. I accept it, then grab my bag and trash.
Dropping the paper into the recycling bin on my way out the door, I slide on my shades and wonder how I’m going to listen to him talk about another woman.
I think it shouldn’t hurt too badly. Yeah, he’s still attractive as hell and I still feel just as cared for by him as I did back then…but that doesn’t mean my infatuation is still there.
And maybe that’s all it was. Heavy infatuation. We were in close proximity, he was kind to me, and he never made me feel less important than him or football.
People confuse real feelings for their good friends all the time, it was probably no different for us.
So, I’m going to give him Heidi’s information and I’m not going to stand in the way. Maybe it’s time for me to figure out something with my dating life.
And maybe do something about this virginity, too.
I’m not waiting on marriage or some great love. It’s just…slipped my mind.
And honestly, it’s been hard to find a guy that measured up to Asher. That’s the thing about having an amazing guy in your life that you’re not dating, you hope that you can find someone even a little as good.
I haven’t had a lot of success, so I just pushed it out of mind and have focused on photography and design. Less risk, much more tangible reward.
I’m going to make myself go on an actual date this year. That’s my promise to myself.
I will not think about my feelings from the past.
I will not think about my feelings from the past.
If I say it enough times, I’ll get it through my thick head.
7
Nova
My eyes are blurry and I’ve lost count of how many cups of coffee I’ve had, but one of my graphic design clients hit me with some rush edits she needs and I’m trying to get them done.
Change vibrance here.
Too much contrast. Replace red undertones.
Maybe a little blue will bring out the hue she wants.
Get rid of these flyaways…brighten up these highlights…hide these stray mustache hairs…
“Shit.” I jerk my head up and almost knock my coffee cup over when my phone shrills.
I rub my eyes and look at the small black numbers on the top of the computer screen.
2:45 AM.
Who the hell is calling me this late?
I trudge to where I dropped my purse when I came in and rummage through it. I don’t even screen the call before I swipe to answer.
“What?”
“You need sleep.” The laughing voice is Ash’s, and I feel this weird sort of relief.
I know his date with Heidi was tonight.
But it’s early morning/late night. Maybe he’s just leaving her place and is calling to gush about how well it went.
Suddenly, I’m wide awake and I wish my last cup of coffee had been spiked with something stronger than caffeine.
“Maybe I was asleep and you just woke me up.” I go back over to my desk with the phone between my shoulder and ear, saving the work I was doing. If I’m home, I do a lot of my editing on my iMac, because then I’m not leaning over a smaller screen and I don’t look up after an hour and realize my neck is stuck in one place.
“You don’t sound sleep. You sound like you were probably up too late working.” His voice is knowing, and I roll my eyes.
“And what’s your excuse?�
�� I hold my breath a little, waiting for him to confirm or deny my suspicions.
“Just getting back home after getting a few drinks with the guys, nothing too crazy.”
“Wasn’t your date with Heidi today?”
“Mhm, we went out to dinner.” There’s rustling in the background like he’s in bed, and I slam a hand over my eyes like I can stop visuals from coming.
Spoiler alert, it doesn’t work.
Ash is allergic to clothing. His favorite state is wearing as little as possible that he can get away with. With boundaries we’d established when we were living together, I got him to at least wear some form of bottoms regularly. But that didn’t stop him from walking around shirtless, and since he’s at home in his bed…he’s probably naked.
The thing that I’m most grateful about is that I’ve never seen his…genitalia. If I had, imagining him in bed would probably be even more torturous.
Instead of a 200 on a 1-100 scale, it’s only a 198. Lucky me.
“And? How was it?” I turn off the lights that are still on, and walk down the hallway to my bedroom. Closing the door and crawling onto my bed, I pull my laptop from my bedside table and put Asher on speaker as I log in.
“It was cool, I think there’ll be a second date.” He pauses, and I stare at the phone, waiting on him to continue.
That’s when I realize that he is finished.
“That’s it? That’s all you’re going to say?”
“Is there more to say?” he questions, confusion in his voice, and I sigh.
If this were my girl friends, I’d already know exactly what the guy wore, the conversation verbatim, and whether he’s circumcised or not.
Okay, I’m exaggerating, but you get my point.
“How was the conversation? Do you think she’s attractive? Anything you didn’t like?” I push, typing into my search bar.
