by Leia Shaw
He paused, thinking through excuses he could give her. Family emergency seemed lame, and she’d want details. Taking a cue from her, he typed…
Levi: Computer problems.
See how she likes it.
It was spiteful and he hated himself right after he’d sent it, but there was so much built-up frustration, sometimes it got loose. He’d been waiting not-so-patiently to hear from Emerson again. More information would either ease his mind or confirm his worst nightmare. Either way, he’d be free from this emotional purgatory.
Then there was something about Emerson that had stuck. The quirky hacker girl was always in the back of his mind. Maybe it was because she held the key to his future, but sometimes he found himself wanting to hear from her just for the sake of hearing from her. Just because it was her.
He’d emailed her twice already, asking if she’d found anything yet, pretending to be pushing her along though it didn’t seem like he needed to. Her factual emails with small sparks of humor made him smile. He’d felt guilty about it at first, but then he’d figured out why he was drawn to her.
Projection. He was so desperate that he was projecting his desire for Hope onto Emerson.
The spying, he’d justified too. Maybe that was his superpower – justification of dick moves. But she’d lied to him first. She’d betrayed him – logical explanation or not. She couldn’t claim to have feelings for him while lying about things as important as a real name and photograph. Didn’t she understand how many times he’d looked through those few photos, imagining meeting her? He’d memorized every expression, every line in her face. She haunted his dreams – the blonde Hope with the sunny smile. He was having trouble replacing that image with the plain brown-haired girl on Em’s computer. It wouldn’t be easy to adjust, but he’d do it. If she was really the Hope he knew, he could get used to this new face and name.
And Emerson… As soon as he met the real Hope, he’d stop this projection shit too. Maybe he needed therapy.
The bell above the door to the shop rang, startling him as he stared at his phone. Hope would be in class now and unable to respond.
Rising from the stool he was perched on behind the counter, he smiled at the mom and son as they approached. “Hey there, buddy!”
The seven year old boy with messy black hair was one of his favorite students. Dark and serious, he made the perfect budding rock star. But his mother, on the other hand, was a whole different creature.
Reluctantly, he addressed her. “Hi, Mrs. Miller.”
She gave him a dazzling smile. “I’ve told you before, call me Steph.” As always, her hair was perfectly coifed in a bun. Her clothes looked designer. Red lips matched her neatly painted fingernails. She was the classic rich, bored housewife. “Any new performances coming up? I’d love to go to one.” The sway of her hips as she walked toward him looked like a come hither call of a seductress.
Girls hit on him from time to time – a perk of playing the guitar – but this was different. It wasn’t fun and flirty. The way she looked at him left him feeling almost violated. Even now, her gaze slid down his body, stopping at his crotch before coming back up. A smirk touched her lips before she licked them slowly. A cougar. Only if she expected someone with money, she was stalking the wrong prey.
He swallowed hard then moved around the counter. “I told you, Mrs. Miller, I’m not a rock star.”
“You should be.” She perused him again. “You have the look for it.”
He wanted to roll his eyes. “There’s too many starving wannabe rock stars out there already.” Not that wannabe video game composer was any better. After opening the door to the practice room, he motioned the boy in. “Come on, Cam. Let’s get started.”
Forty five minutes until he had to dodge her flirtations again. Sighing, he plopped down on his seat and looked over his student. Camden wore a determined expression as he unpacked his guitar, reminding Levi of a young Keith Richards.
He chuckled and picked up his own guitar. “What should we rock to today?”
A wide toothy grin finally appeared. “Led Zeppelin.”
Levi nodded. “Good choice, young grasshopper.”
***
“You need to get out.” Darren frowned down at Levi, shaking his head. “This isn’t good for you. I’m not any good at this touchy feely shit, but I know a man in pain.”
He arched a brow at his friend. “A man in pain?”
“Yep.” He grabbed Levi’s coat off the hanger then tossed it at him. “Come on. We’re going to the pub. Patrick’s working tonight. He’ll hook us up.”
Levi sighed. It wasn’t as if staring at the computer was doing much for him. Emerson still hadn’t written back and all Hope wanted to talk about was why he’d been acting so weird. He’d run out of excuses and had been trying to change the subject. Now she was out with friends and Levi was stuck, eagerly waiting for her intermittent messages like a puppy dog waiting for scraps of attention from its master. How pathetic.
Maybe a trip to the pub would clear his head. Or at least unclear it. Fuzzy sounded good right about now. He shut his laptop and put on his coat. Though they’d moved into April now, and days were longer and mild, it was still chilly at night.
“Are you buying too?” he asked Darren as he made his way to the door.
“If it gets you to stop pissing and moaning about your girlfriend, yes.” He opened the apartment door and they stepped into the hallway. “But I’m not buying you tissues and chocolate. You’ll have to find someone else for that.”
“Fuck you.” Musicians might be sensitive souls but he drew the line at public sob fests.
He laughed. “So what happened anyway? What did the hacker chick say?”
The hacker chick. Emerson. He probably shouldn’t mention his thoughts kept drifting back to her, despite his obsession with Hope. Could a man have two obsessions? Did that make him a polygamist or just a bastard?
“You’ll be relieved to know Hope is a girl.”
Darren’s eyebrows rose. “Really? I’m surprised. Relieved for you, but surprised. So what’s the bad news? She a granny? Has ten kids? Missing a limb?”
“Nothing that bad. Well, not that I know of. Thanks for putting the ideas in my head though.” He scowled at Darren. “But I did learn her name isn’t Hope.”
“Nooo.” He exaggerated a shocked expression with a gaping mouth. “You don’t say!”
“Shut up.”
“What’s her name then?”
He’d been saying it in his head all day, feeling it out, trying to get used to it. “Heidi.”
Darren steered him toward his car in the lot. “I’ll be DD tonight. You need to just relax.”
He wasn’t going to argue. They hopped in Darren’s car and headed toward the pub down the road. Pete’s was within walking distance but Darren was a lazy bastard. In the summer, there’d been a few nights they’d both walked home, too drunk to get in a car. He’d grown up since then. Part of the whole serious relationship shit that happened at a certain age.
“Anything else?” Darren asked.
A big something. He threw his head back onto the seat and sighed. “Yeah. The picture.”
“Not her, huh? I tried to tell you. That blonde girl looked way too perfect to be single. And way too pretty to go for you. So what’s Heidi look like? Is it terrible? Tell me it’s not like plastic surgery gone wrong.”
Levi made a sound of annoyance. “This is still my girlfriend you’re talking about. And no, she’s not ugly at all.” He’d studied all forty eight photos Emerson had stolen from Hope’s computer. He didn’t know them as well as the others, but he was starting to.
Frustration gnawed at him. A different name and face wasn’t easy to get over. And it wasn’t just about that. If she’d been lying to protect herself in the beginning of the relationship, that’d be understandable. But they weren’t new anymore. They cared for each other deeply. Maybe even loved each other. They’d talked about marriage for chrissake. She sho
uld’ve come clean a long time ago.
“That’s not so bad then. If she’s still hot, all you have to do is remember to call her a different name.”
Darren had leftover pizza in the fridge longer than he’d had some relationships. He knew nothing about love. Why was he talking to this idiot about it anyway?
He looked at his grinning friend then shook his head. At least he was paying for drinks. Who else could he talk about this with anyway? Who’d listen to him talk about his online girlfriend without breaking into laughter or judging him? Darren’s cautioning was a guy helping another guy out.
His mother would be appalled, his father would call him a sucker, and his sisters would probably set up ambush dates for him with their friends. He knew what this looked like to most people. He looked like a chump. A naïve idiot desperate for love. And it killed him that maybe he was.
He’d never been the type that cared about what other people thought. He’d always been immune to pressure like that. Maybe it had to do with the way he’d been raised. His mother cared too much. And what good did it do her? She was one step from needing a straight jacket.
Except his usual confidence faltered when it came to Hope. Heidi. Whatever. He’d never felt solid in their relationship. There was always the looming thought that she could, and would, just disappear. Certain words she used sounded non-committal. One moment he felt attached and secure, the next she’d completely throw off his game. Then the red flags started popping up, excuses and vague information, and suddenly he went from a man used to feeling in control to feeling hopelessly lost.
“She lied to me,” he explained to Darren, gritting his teeth. “It’s hard to get past that.”
Darren shrugged. “Maybe there’s a reason. Have you asked her?”
“Not yet. I want to collect all the evidence first. I don’t want to get tangled up in more cover stories. If I have the whole truth, she won’t be able to make excuses anymore. We can finally have an honest conversation about it.”
He didn’t say anything for a moment. Then, as they pulled into the bar lot, he asked, “Do you love her?”
Levi had asked himself that question over and over in the last two days. He believed love was powerful enough to overcome a lot of things. Even a few lies. But that final jump from affection and romance to love was one he couldn’t make yet, not until he saw her in person. “I don’t know, but I have to give her a chance. The feelings are real. For me anyway. I have to find out if they are for her too.”
After parking the car, Darren sighed then opened the door. “That’s why I stay away from online dating sites. Too many nut jobs out there. I still don’t understand why you can’t find a girl around here. You’ve got a lot going for you.”
“Are you hitting on me?” Levi hopped out of the car, following Darren. “I didn’t meet her on a dating site. I met her on a fan page of that indie band, Psychic Amateurs.”
They walked toward the pub. “Yeah, I remember. The whole thing was weird.”
Her sense of humor had drawn him in first. Then her sweetness. She had a kind heart, loved children, and felt music in her soul like he did. They could talk for hours without running out of anything to say – something he hadn’t found with most other women. The girls he’d dated in college were immature and shallow. He needed someone who had her shit together, someone with a real career, and he wasn’t finding that around campus.
“It was fate.”
Darren snorted. “Sappy bitch.”
“Shut up,” he said and shoved him.
The pub door was already propped open. The smell of sweat and alcohol poured out into the night. The place was packed with college kids. Levi was only a year past graduation himself so he recognized a few faces. Darren pointed to a spot at the bar that had just opened up.
They pushed their way through the crowd, dodging elbows and girls flipping their hair. He sat down on a bar stool next to Darren then waved to their buddy behind the counter. Patrick was a typical heartbreaker. His wide smile, clever wit, and jacked up body made women hang all over him, vying for bits of attention. And somehow he made every one of them feel important and beautiful. The man had talent.
“Hey!” Patrick said as he approached. “You guys here for the band?”
Darren answered first. “No. We’re just here to drown a man’s sorrows.” He put a hand on Levi’s shoulder, which Levi shook off.
“Sorrows, huh?” Patrick considered him for a moment then nodded. “In that case, you need a shot.”
Six shots later, the room started to spin. The crowd was just a buzz behind him. He was vaguely aware that the band had started to play. He might’ve told people, loudly, his ten year old students played better. Sounds swirled together. It was hard to focus. Why was he drinking again? On the seventh shot, he didn’t care.
Chapter 8
Levi stared at the number on the apartment door. Why was he stalling? His stomach was sick with nerves. Just two days ago he’d gotten drunk with Darren, trying to forget the looming sense of dread hanging over his head. It’d worked for a few hours but then had returned as soon as his sobriety had.
Just knock and get this over with.
He lifted his hand and the door opened.
“What are you doing?” Emerson asked, her face crumpled in disgust.
Embarrassment swept through him. He was acting like such a pussy. “I was about to knock on the door.”
“You’ve been standing in the hallway for close to five minutes.” She opened the door wider for him to walk through. “I heard you come up the stairs.”
Irritably, he stepped into the apartment. “I’m a little nervous, okay?” Why was he admitting that? God, had he left his balls in the car?
“Don’t be. I have good news.” She went straight to her desk chair and started typing on the computer.
Her three other monitors were doing strange things. He opened his mouth to ask what it was then decided against it. She’d either scoff at his substandard intellect or give him a long speech that’d make him want to get drunk again. And he really didn’t want to deal with another hangover.
“Ugh,” she groaned then clicked on the mouse hard several times in succession. “Stupid computer!”
“What happened?”
Sighing, she threw her hand toward one of the screens. “I had to sudo shutdown. It’s gonna be a sec. I think I overloaded the system.” She turned and gave him a cursory glance. “Um. Make yourself at home. Or something.”
He snorted. “Thanks. You’re a regular Suzie Homemaker.”
Gaze back on the screen, she waved a hand negligently. “There’s drinks in the fridge. Maybe. I don’t remember.”
Shaking his head, he took a long look at the condition of the apartment. It was worse than the last time he’d been there. Done putting on airs already? On the coffee table sat several empty or nearly-empty glasses. No coasters.
Unable to help himself, he stacked them up and brought them to the kitchen. The sink was overflowing with dirty dishes so he set them on the counter. A dishwasher sat to the right. He opened it. Empty. Why hadn’t they just put their dirty dishes in after they’d used them? He’d expected girls to be cleaner than guys but apparently not these two.
“Stupid motherfucking, ass-licking, shitty computer,” she mumbled from the other room. She was too immersed in her computer problem to notice what he was doing.
Chuckling, he started rinsing the dishes and loading them in the dishwasher. The girl definitely needed a keeper. He had nothing else to do and it sounded like it’d be a while before she’d be ready, so he figured he might as well help out. After the dishes were done and the machine started up, he took a look in the fridge.
A ketchup bottle, a few pieces of bread, a half a stick of butter, and a little bit of milk. He opened the container and sniffed.
“Ugh.” After dumping it down the drain, he walked to the living room where Emerson was still swearing under her breath. “What have you been eating? Ketchup sandwi
ches?”
“Huh?” She glanced at him over her shoulder. “Oh. Uh. I don’t know. It’s been a while.”
He rolled his eyes. The girl needed a maid. Maybe a cook too. He took the phone from his pocket and scrolled through his favorite take-out restaurants. “You like Chinese food?”
Her reply was to throw her hands in the air and start ranting. “Ever since OSX Maverick, this machine has had a huge memory leak. I wish they’d just patch the damn thing already! If the kernel was open source, I'd patch it myself...” Then she mumbled under her breath something about switching everything to Linux tomorrow.
He stared for a moment. “I’ll take that as a yes.” After dialing up the place down the street, he ordered a variety of his favorite dishes then plopped down onto the couch.
Something hard pressed against his ass cheek, making him jump up in surprise. What the hell? He looked down at the couch. “Seriously, Em?”
The tone of his voice must’ve caught her attention because she spun her chair around and looked where he pointed. A giant green dildo stuck straight out from between the cushions like some kind of perverted leprechaun, eager to impale unsuspecting visitors.
“That’s not mine.”
“Let me guess. You’re holding it for a friend.” He grimaced.
“It’s clean. She just bought it.”
Staring down at the monstrous thing, he mumbled, “At least there’s that.” He heard a chuckle behind him. He turned to find Emerson with her palm over her mouth, clearly trying to hold back laughter.
“What?”
She lifted her hand. “Did you, uh…” Her eyes lit up with mischief. “Get raped by Frankendick there?”
He scowled at her. “No!”
Laughter broke free and she didn’t bother to hide it. Holding her stomach with her hands, she laughed loud and long. And then he was laughing too. Not because he’d almost gotten butt-raped by her couch, but because the super-focused and stoic Emerson had completely lost it.
Her hair swept back from her face, revealing a dimple on one side of her smile he hadn’t noticed before. Rosy lips stood out against her pale skin. Her eyes crinkled at the corners – not at all like the serious girl he’d met at Starbucks a couple weeks ago. She was cute when she hid behind her glasses and talked nerdy. But when she laughed, she was stunning.
