I told you the boot went with everything, as long as you don’t attempt to wear jeans, leggings or anything else fitting. Right now it is nicely obscured underneath my dress. Of course Jordan looks like she just stepped off the pages of Vogue in her skinny jeans, off the shoulder sweater, heels, and the accessories to match. I’m neither surprised nor jealous. I’m not trying to keep up with my fashionista best friend. We are out the door by eight o’clock. The alarm on my phone goes off and I roll my eyes at the irony. Jordan just smiles because she knows that I would just be getting up right now.
“Are you going to tell me where we’re going now?” I ask stifling a yawn.
“Nope. It’ll ruin the surprise.” God I hate surprises. She cranks up the radio when she hears Lana Del Rey’s Burning Desire come on. I’m not a fool. She’s trying to suppress any more questioning about where we’re going. I fold my arms and look out the window. She continues her antics by singing loudly and off key. She tugs on my jacket and ask me to join in on the chorus and I do because I can’t stay frustrated with her when she is being dorky. We pull up to The Landing luxury hotel and a valet attendant is at my door immediately escorting me out. Jordan comes around to join me.
I look at the elegance of the hotel and then back at her in disapproval. She is obviously dressed for the likes of this place, where as I look like I missed my turn for the local Motel 6. “What the hell Jordan? A little warning would’ve been nice. I’m not dressed for this place,” I admonish.
“Nonsense. There’s no dress code for what I have planned. You’ll see.” She grabs me by the hand so that I will follow her. When the hotel’s spa comes into view, I snatch my hand away. There’s no way I can afford this and she is smoking crack if she thinks I’m letting her pay. I turn to leave, but she grabs me once again. “See this is why I wanted our spa day to be a surprise. I knew you’d react this way,” she whines.
“Sorry, surprise or not, you’ve wasted your time.” I feel a fight coming on and I hate fighting with her. She knows my stance on her spending money on me. I nearly choked on her utterance of spa day. Not a spa treatment as in singular, but a spa day as in getting a bunch of shit done and spending a lot of money.
“Just hear me out,” she pleas. My dad just became a silent partner with this hotel chain. One of the perks is that his family and specified guest gets to enjoy the amenities at no cost. He told me to share this with some of my friends once I got back to Los Angeles. I only wanted to share it with my best friend. I want this to be our thing. Whenever we want.” She looks genuinely sad. I love her to pieces. I can’t deny her after she puts it that way. I hug her to convey my acceptance of such a wonderful gift. She squeals in delight and we are escorted to the locker room where we undress and put on robes.
We are given fruit-infused water while we wait for our personal masseuses to come get us for our massages. We spend the day indulging in caviar facials and massages, as well as manicures, pedicures, and hair treatments. We had a break in between for a healthy lunch, but now I am starving. Healthy stuff never sticks to you. I need something fattening ASAP. We make dinner plans to eat at the hotel’s steakhouse. I’m too hungry to care about the other appropriately dressed patrons. I would die of starvation if I had to wait until we got home and then for Jordan to cook something. Who knew all day pampering worked up an appetite. The masseuse did say something about releasing toxins and yada… yada…yada. My body must’ve expended its entire energy source releasing said toxins.
Jordan and I enjoy a nice steak dinner and several glasses of wine. Well, I do anyway. All is right in the world again. My stomach has reached capacity and I have a nice buzz. Jordan only had one glass, stating she needs to be able to drive. She tells me to enjoy and I oblige.
“I’m glad we had this time to catch up, Shiv. I know our time together was cut short over this Christmas break since I ended up vacationing with my parents.” She grabs my hand across the table and squeezes.
“No. I totally understood. I can admit, this was actually fun. Thank you.”
“This will be our thing when we feel the need for a little pampering. Now let me order a bottle of wine like the one you’ve been guzzling and we can go,” she smiles. I can’t help but laugh. She orders a bottle of wine to enjoy once we get home and we leave. Once we get home, I take my clothes off and leave them in a pile next to my bed. As soon as my head hits my pillow, I am off to dreamland.
I get up around 11:00 a.m., enjoying the fact I was able to sleep in. Jordan has already left to go meet the girls at Bailey’s place. I decide today is going to be a lazy day. Tomorrow we start classes so this is my last chance to enjoy having nothing to do. I contemplate calling Liam to hangout, but decide against it. This may be his last free day too. He should spend it how he chooses, not cooped up with someone he has absolutely no chance with. I make my way to the kitchen and start the Keurig to brew me a cup of coffee. On the counter, I find an omelet that Jordan has left for me in a Tupperware container. I smile at her thoughtfulness as I heat it in the microwave. This is so much better than the grill cheese sandwich I was prepared to make.
I take my brunch and sit in front of the television. Nothing good is on so I watch a recording of American Idol. I should totally audition for this show. I love music. That counts right? Okay, maybe not. After three hours in the same spot vegetating, I decide to make some soap. I have a new recipe I want to try with some New Zealand honey. I think I’ll call it Manuka Honey and Oats. I head to the kitchen to gather my supplies. After my preparation, I set about mixing everything. I add honey, vanilla essential oil, oatmeal for exfoliation, and coconut milk to my formula. The final result smells heavenly.
Jordan may just have a new favorite. I pour the mixture into a wooden mold and wrap it with a quilt before putting it in a dark place to saponify, also known as the back of my closet. Jordan picks this time to check on me. My phone plays her Lana Del Rey ringtone This is What Makes Us Girls.
“Hey Jor,” I yawn.
“Oh my God. Tell me you are not just getting up?”
“Shut up. I’ve been up since eleven smart ass.”
“Yeah, because that’s early. I knew you were going to sleep in. What have you done all day?”
“I have, you know I made soap today. Just finished actually,” I defend.
“Yay! What kind did you make? Do I get a loaf?”
I knew that would get her attention. “Calm down crazy person. You don’t get a loaf this time because I only made one. You still haven’t used all of your other loaf I gave you.”
“Whatever. I can still want more. So don’t keep me in suspense. What kind did you make?” I can tell she is becoming impatient.
“This scent is new. It’s called Manuka Honey and Oats.” I continue to tell her the ingredients of the soap.
“Ooh. I can’t wait to try it.” Soap is supposed to cure for at least four to six weeks, but we always steal a bar after the saponification process is done, which is usually the next day. “Okay, you side tracked me with the mention of the soap. I called to tell you I wouldn’t be home for dinner. The girls and I are going to hang out a little longer. I won’t be out too late since we start class in the morning.”
“No worries Jor. I can cook dinner for myself.” And it’s true. I can manage things that come in a box. I hear snickering on the other end of the line.
“Just don’t burn the place down,” she teases.
“Hush. I can cook when I want to. Too bad you’re going to miss out on this gourmet meal I’m planning.” That does it. She is laughing hysterically now. I hang up on her. I can cook. I put a pot of water on the stove to boil and pour myself some white wine. I’ve gone from hardly drinking to being a lush in one semester. I open a pouch of albacore tuna and set it aside. I look through the pantry and score a box of Kraft macaroni and cheese. I also see a can of Rotel tomatoes. Who says I can’t cook? After the macaroni and cheese cooks, I add in the tuna, tomatoes, and top it off with Cajun seasoning. It is so good. I think
I’ll return Jordan’s earlier sentiment. I put some aside for her in a Tupperware container.
I polish off two more glasses of wine while I lay my clothes out for the morning. It’s close to midnight now and we both have a long day ahead of us tomorrow. Our first class starts at eight. We planned our long day of classes to be the same so we could carpool. She doesn’t need much sleep like I do, so she’ll be fine. I set my alarm on my phone and snuggle under my covers. I’m proud that I was able to keep my thoughts of Grayson to a minimum today.
“Shiv, get up,” Jordan sings as she bounces on my bed. How in the hell does she always manage to get up so early?
“What time is it?” I groan at the fuzziness in my head. Maybe I went a little overboard with the wine. “And what time did you get in this morning?”
“It’s a little after seven and I got in at one. Now get up or you’re going to make us both late.” She takes the covers completely off my bed and put them on the ottoman in the corner. “Be ready to go in twenty minutes lazy bones.”
I get ready and meet her in the kitchen with two minutes to spare. The aroma of coffee wafts in the air. “I made the dark espresso roast. You look like you could use a boost.”
“Thanks. We all can’t be morning people.” I roll my eyes at her perceptiveness. I get the biggest travel mug I can find and add a second cup of coffee to it.
The ride to school brings on my anxiety about running into Grayson. I don’t have my marketing class until tomorrow, but I am nervous about seeing him around campus. I try to think logically about how big the campus is and the odds are in my favor. Jordan I make plans to meet for breakfast after our first class and then I’m left alone with my fear as I head off to class.
Three classes later, Jordan and I meet up by the library as planned before heading home. She mentions the girls are meeting at our place to start margarita Mondays again.
“Didn’t you guys just see each other yesterday?” I grouse. I plan on getting in the bed much earlier tonight and I don’t want to even see any alcohol.
“Yes, but we want to continue our tradition. This is our last semester before everyone goes in different directions,” she pleas. “And absolutely no Vanessa.”
“You can’t be sure. You know Bailey likes to invite her along to these things,” I huff.
“No, I can promise,” Jordan insists. “I saw her at Bailey’s get-together yesterday and I told her that I would beat her skinny ass if she set foot here again.”
I can’t help but smile. Jordan is the nicest person you ever meet until you get on her bad side, then you better watch out. “No you didn’t,” I chortle. “What did she say?”
“She didn’t say anything. She’s no fool. She turned her bony ass around and left the room. She was only there because she knew Grayson was there.”
The smile disappears from my face in a nanosecond. “What? Grayson was there? You weren’t—,” She cuts my inquisition off.
“Sorry, that was a slip. We’re not talking about him remember? You’re supposed to be moving on. Besides there’s nothing to tell. He just stopped by to pick something up from Bailey. He had one drink and then he left.”
“Did he ask about me?” I can’t help but wonder if I am constantly on his mind too.
“Damn Shiv. No he didn’t. It was better that he didn’t. I don’t know if I could have contained the can of whip ass that was dying to come out the minute he walked through the door.” She’s getting worked up just on the recollection alone. I know this conversation is done. “Now we are going to have the girls over, drink our asses off, and you will not give one thought to that jackass.”
I stay quiet because I’m not interested in partying. When we get home, I head straight to my room and change into sweats before returning to the kitchen and plopping my books on the counter. I look through the syllabus of my classes as Jordan prepares dinner. She said she ate the meal I left for her when she came in this morning and that it was actually pretty good. However, I’m glad she is back to take over the cooking duties. I clean and she cooks. It’s a match made in heaven. Lord help me if I ever find a husband. My mind lands on Grayson again and I pinch my nose in frustration.
“You have a headache?” Jordan asks.
“No just tired,” I lie. Well not totally, I guess. “I think I’m going to eat and just show my face for a little bit before I turn it for the night.”
“Fair enough,” she agrees. Tomorrow we only have one class as it is our short day. For me though, I have my marketing class in that building. His teaching day was today, but I am still anxious over the possibility of a run in.
My phone alarm shrills in the distance and I nearly fall out of the bed trying to determine the source of the noise. As I wipe the sleep from my eyes, I become more oriented and realize that it is time for me to get up. I fumble around my pillows and sheets until I find my phone and turn off the alarm. I’m actually able to get ready before Jordan comes to get me up. That is an accomplishment in itself. I pull my waist length red tresses in a messy bun. I didn’t have the patience to dry it completely so, bun it is. When I walk into the kitchen, Jordan is sitting at the counter dressed and talking on her phone. I’m guessing from her now hush tones that she is talking to Trevor. I grab my travel mug already filled with coffee and a banana. Jordan gets up and heads to the door, never ending her call so I take that as my cue that is time to go.
As I walk into the building that houses my marketing class, I wipe my sweaty hands on my jeans. This building brings back so many memories. When I walk through doors, I am incapable of keeping my eyes from shifting to the second floor where Grayson taught. My heart rate speeds up and it isn’t until I cross the threshold of my class here on the first floor that I realize that I had been holding my breath.
I look around the auditorium styled seating and quickly find a seat in the middle row. I hate being the center of attention so I quickly make my way there. We’re all waiting for the professor to arrive. It is now five minutes after the hour and students are beginning to leave — claiming the five-minute rule. The other half of the class, including myself, don’t want to chance it. Another ten minutes go by and you can tell the remaining students are starting to get a bit antsy. They’re checking their watches and watching the door with apt attention.
I have just begun to put my things back in my messenger bag when the voice that has been intruding my thoughts comes from the front of the class.
“Good morning, everyone. I’m Professor Michaels. Professor Grant had a family emergency this morning and could not be here.” No. No. No. This can’t be happening. This is my worst nightmare realized. “You chose to stay and it will not go unnoticed. I am going to take attendance so that those of you who stayed can get credit. After that, I will share with you a few additions to add to your syllabus before letting you all leave.”
My heart is racing again. He’s standing in front of the class looking like a wet dream in his denim jeans and button down shirt. His inky black hair has grown out some and looks even more like just-fucked locks.
“Amy Gaines,” he calls. Oh God, he is getting closer to my name. And then it happens. “Siobhan Gallagher,” he says stumbling over his words.
His eyes begin to scan the classroom in his search for me. I timidly raise my hand. “Here,” I murmur. Our eyes meet briefly, but I can’t hold his gaze. My initial lust for him is replaced with anger as I recall all the memories that left me a heart broken mess. He finishes calling attendance and proceeds to give us the additions to the syllabus. After his dismissal, the students rush out like the building is on fire. This stupid boot impedes my quick escape and now he is waiting for me to make my way down the aisle. His face pinches in sympathy when he sees my boot, but he doesn’t mention it.
“Siobhan,” he begins uncertainly. He looks around to ensure that every student has left. “How are you feeling?”
“Oh now you want to pretend to care?” I sneer.
“I do care. Can we talk?” He grabs me
by the shoulder to keep me from walking out of the class. His eyebrows knit together in a scowl. A flash of something crosses his beautiful features, but he slips his unreadable mask back up too quickly for me to decipher what.
“Let go of me. We have nothing left to discuss. You laid it all out for me that day back at the apartment and then you proceeded to drive the message home at Bailey’s condo.” He hesitantly removes his hand from my shoulder. He is about to say something else, but then his forehead crinkles in disgust. I follow his eyes and see that Liam is walking towards us. I decide to turn it up a notch.
“Hey babe. What are you doing here?” Other than the slight eyebrow rise at the endearment, Liam doesn’t miss a beat.
“I knew you only had one class today and that you should be out soon. I missed hanging out with you Sunday so I thought you may want to grab breakfast this morning.” You could bounce a quarter off of Grayson’s face it was so hard. The slight twitch of his jaw lets me know he is beyond pissed. Good.
“Sounds like a plan, let’s go. I’ll text Jordan and tell her where to meet us when she gets out.” I turn to Grayson and turn the knife I’ve already inserted. “Nice seeing you again Professor Michaels. Take care.” I see a flash of something that looks like hurt, but it can’t be. He dumped me.
Liam takes my messenger bag like a doting boyfriend would and we head toward the cafeteria. Liam immediately heads to the grill while I make my way to the waffle-making station. I sent Jordan a text on our way here so I thought it was her texting me when my phone chirps. Wrong.
Grayson: Are you FUCKING him? You took that cheating bastard back?
Wow, he is even more pissed off than I originally thought.
Me: That is no longer your concern. VANESSA IS!!!
I silence my phone. He has no reason to be upset. He didn’t want me. When I make it to the table that Liam found, I put on my mask of indifference and take a seat.
Forbidden Love Page 2
