No Tomorrow

by Carian Cole

  She nods and reaches for the doorknob. “Okay. I’ll be home all day so let me know if you need anything.”

  “Okay. I’m sure I’ll feel better once I get some sleep.”

  She closes the door behind her before Archie can make a run for the upstairs, where he likes to climb the drapes in the dining room and make bizarre chirping noises at the squirrels in the backyard.

  Too bad I can’t sleep for the next two weeks and just skip the fourteen days of worrying.

  I’ve heard people can change suddenly, and maybe I have. My escapade with Evan under the bridge seems to have tilted me off my steady, boring axis, and I can’t stop thinking about it.

  I lie on my bed longer than I care to admit, staring at the ceiling fan going round and round, and replay all the moments of last night in my head. My body quivers and heats with the memories. I loved every minute of it. The second his lips touched mine and we shared the same breath, I changed. I felt it.

  I want more.

  For the next two days, I call in, faking the flu. It’s not a total lie. I feel sicker than I’ve ever felt in my life. Sick with worry and sick with wondering if Evan is thinking about me, too. Because if he’s not, I think I’ll die of this sickness.

  I’m tempted to call Ditra and spill it all to her, but I know if I do, she’ll tell me I’m being dramatic, congratulate me for finally breaking out of my shell, and then want to hear every detail from the length of his dick to how long my orgasm lasted to when I’m going to see him again. She’ll also want to meet him.

  Ditra and I have been best friends forever. Literally. Our mothers grew up next door to each other and have always been best friends. They got pregnant at the same time, and they had Ditra and me a week apart. Back then, they did practically everything together, so we were together all the time and just naturally became best friends, too. But I still can’t bring myself to pick up the phone and tell her about Evan.

  It’s not because I’m ashamed of him. I want to covet him. Savor him. Keep him my own little secret. If no one knows, then he’s just mine.

  Chapter Five

  Thursday, I return to work to find the inbox on my desk piled a foot high with work. I immerse myself in it, grateful for the distraction. I eat lunch at my desk while I work, skipping my usual lunch break.

  That doesn’t stop me from wondering if Evan and Acorn are at the park and if he’s looking for me or missing me, but I’m not ready to find out if I was just a quickie for him. I want to stay in my safe bubble of not knowing for a while longer.

  On Friday, I do the same ‘I’m going to work non-stop for eight hours’ routine, and by the time five o’clock rolls around, I’m ready to head home, shower, and meet Ditra for dinner. We’re meeting two guys she’s friends with. I suspect one is supposed to be a potential set-up for me, even though I told her I have no interest in being set up with any guys right now. Ignoring my protests, she insisted I meet up with them tonight anyway. I finally agreed because I’ve been feeling stir crazy for the past week and getting out of the house will probably be good for me.

  All this is running through my mind as I cross the office parking lot. As I get closer to my car I spot a white note tucked under the windshield wiper. I know it’s from Evan before I pluck it off the windshield and read it.

  Well, damn. He knows where I work. He knows which car is mine. Which means he’s been watching me.

  My body quivers with fear and delicious anticipation.

  He wants me to come back.

  I don’t even have to think about it. Tucking the note into my purse, I already know I’ll be going back to the bridge tonight after dinner. Because I want more. Of what, I’m not sure. Just him.

  Three hours later, I’m walking into the small but popular pub downtown. Scanning the smoke-filled, noisy room, I spot Ditra and her friends at a high table a few feet from the bar. At the other end of the room, a band is setting up, and I breathe a sigh of relief that we’re not sitting near the small stage. Last time we were here, the music was so loud we couldn’t even hear ourselves talk.

  I feel self-conscious wearing tight jeans, high-heeled black boots, and a V-neck sweater as I approach the table because Ditra’s friend, who I’m naming Guy Number Two, has his eyes glued to my chest, and trust me, there’s not much to look at. Smiling, I climb on the empty stool across from Ditra and Guy Number One, who she’s obviously claimed because she’s practically sitting in his lap.

  I hope Guy Number Two is just a boob-ogler in general and I’m not giving off any overly sexual vibes. If I see Evan later, I don’t want him to think my push-up bra is an invitation for another bang against the bridge.

  “Piper, this is Phil and Mitch. Guys, this is Piper. Be nice to her. She’s shy, but she’s my best friend in the whole wide world, and I’ll kick your balls if you misbehave.”

  “Duly noted,” Phil the Ogler says.

  “I’m so glad you came out with us tonight.” Ditra leans across the table toward me. “You’ve been mopey all week. Every time I called you, you sounded like a zombie.”

  I pretend to be engrossed in the menu. “I told you I was just tired. I’ve had the flu.”

  “What do you do for work?” Phil asks.

  “I’m an administrative assistant.”

  He sips his beer, and I try not to look at his receding hairline, which can’t be a good sign if he’s only in his early twenties. I think of Evan and his long, wavy hair and how erotic it felt tickling my skin when he was feasting on my neck. Closing my menu, I have no idea what I want to eat, but I decide all men should have long hair.

  “That’s cool,” Phil says.

  “And you?” I ask to be polite. I don’t mind Phil and his receding hairline, but I’m currently in a hopeful something with Evan and therefore, unavailable.

  “I’m a landscaper.”

  “We both are,” Mitch jumps in. “We’re partners and started the business last year.”

  “That’s great.”

  I’m bored.

  Ditra runs her hand up and down Mitch’s muscular arm like it’s a genie’s lamp. “That’s why they’re so tan and muscular.”

  Instead of getting dinners, we order one of every appetizer to share. I debate getting a fruity alcoholic drink like Ditra ordered, but I don’t want alcohol on my breath if I see Evan later. I have no idea if drinking is part of his substance abuse problem, but after the pill debacle, I want to be careful.

  “I was thinking we could all go back to my place after dinner, have some drinks, and hang out,” Ditra suggests after the waitress brings the food to our table.

  “I’m down for that,” Phil answers with his eyes on me.

  I spoon small glops of ranch dressing and honey mustard sauce onto my plate from the large cups that came with the appetizers. I don’t want to dip my food into the same condiment everyone else is dipping theirs. That’s a germ farm I don’t want to be part of.

  “I wish I could, but I have plans after this,” I reply.

  “Plans?” Ditra repeats. “What plans? Sitting with your cat in bed and reading isn’t a plan.”

  The guys laugh.

  “Very funny, but no, not with my cat.”

  She nudges my leg with her foot under the table. “Well, now you have to tell me. “

  “No, I don’t.” I flash her a teasing smile, knowing it’s making her crazy I’m doing something she doesn’t know about, but I’m not about to get into my personal life here in a bar with two men I don’t even know at the table.

  The guys divert the conversation to discussing a recent hockey game, leaving Ditra and me to chat about clothes and makeup while we share mozzarella sticks and crispy chicken fingers, but something in the back of my mind keeps distracting me. Then I realize it’s not something in the back of my mind at all, but something in the back of the room.

  The band has started to play, and a woman’s sultry voice fills the bar. But that’s not it, either. It’s the very distinct sound of guitar echoing after her
voice that’s pulling me in, making my heart race. Turning my head toward the stage, I think my eyes must be playing tricks on me at first, but there’s no denying the guy sitting on that stool, playing guitar on the left side of the stage under a blue light, is Evan. He looks different here, out of the park and surrounded by people. He looks sexier. More real. Somehow less of a fantasy.

  True to form, he’s not looking at the people around him at all, leaving me wide open to gawk at him from our table here in the corner.

  The female singer has mile-long legs in skin-tight leather pants and an equally tight red T-shirt stretched across her chest, cut to show off her pierced belly button. She’s gorgeous, strutting around on the tiny stage like a born rock star and shaking her waist-length white-blond hair. Skimming her hand up and down his arms and gyrating her hips against him as she belts out a popular Concrete Blonde song, she’s making a show of flirting with Evan, and it’s got me all in a jealous tizzy.

  There’s a lot of arm touching going on in this room, and I wonder if that’s the universal I’m totally into you gesture.

  “Piper? Are you listening to me?” Ditra grabs my hand, and I drop the French fry I was holding.

  “Huh?” I tear my eyes away from the stage.

  “You just completely spaced out on me.”

  Phil leans into my shoulder and almost spills his beer in my lap. “She was overcome by how awesome I am. It happens a lot,” he jokes.

  “Yeah, I’m sure that was it,” Ditra says, rolling her eyes.

  “I was just checking out the band,” I say nonchalantly. “They’re really good.”

  “They play here a lot,” Mitch informs us. “I’m friends with one of the bartenders who works weekends. He says that singer brings in a lot of customers. She’s hot as hell.”

  Ditra glares daggers at him. “Not exactly the best thing to say right in front of me if you’re trying to get some of this.”

  Shaking my head, I take a potato skin from the platter and place it on my plate. I can’t believe my best friend just referred to herself as some of this.

  Mitch laughs and drapes his arm around her. “I can check her out and still have you, babe.”

  She plays coy. “Maybe. Maybe not.”

  It takes every ounce of will power I have, but I refuse to let myself look back at the stage for the next two hours. I had no idea Evan also played in local bars with a band. It’s quite possible he plays at a different bar every night of the week and in the park during the day. I’m ashamed of myself for knowing nothing about a man who had several inches of his body buried in mine and who also has been consuming my thoughts for weeks.

  When the music stops Evan’s deep voice and laugh drift from the stage, audible even in the crowded room. I finally give in and look over to see the singer standing close to him, talking and laughing with him. A niggle of jealousy gnaws at me, and I wonder if he’s had his hands and his tongue piercing all over her, too. I wouldn’t blame him if he did because she’s beautiful and talented. And tall. She’s like a skyscraper compared to me.

  As if he can feel me watching him, he suddenly looks away from her and searches the room until his eyes lock with mine. There’s a flash of surprise on his face, then a quick glance to Phil sitting next to me, before that sexy smirk of his makes an appearance. I quickly turn back to the table and take a gulp of my iced tea, smiling randomly at Mitch, Phil, and Ditra, who’s frowning at me with suspicion.

  Within seconds, he’s standing next to me, wedging himself between Phil and me, and I’m afraid I suddenly have the words I totally screwed this guy stamped across my forehead. My mouth opens, but no words come out because, suddenly, his lips are on mine.

  “Hey, babe,” he says casually after the kiss. “I didn’t know you’d be here tonight.”

  Even a quick kiss from him brings on the dizzy and giddy feelings.

  “Same here.”

  The amusement in his eyes makes it all too obvious he’s enjoying my surprise and awkwardness. “I’m just here with some friends,” I say.

  He turns his attention to the rest of the table, giving them a friendly nod. “Hey. I’m Blue, Piper’s boyfriend.”

  Ditra’s eyes bug out. “Her boyfriend?” she repeats. “Since when?”

  “It’s new,” I answer before he can spout anything else. “I didn’t really get a chance to tell you yet. It happened kind of fast.”

  Fast and hard. Under a bridge.

  “Apparently so. And you’re in the band?”

  “No, I just play guitar with them if their usual guy can’t make it.”

  I grab a chicken finger off the platter and offer it to him. “Have some chicken.”

  Ditra can’t take her eyes off of him, which I’m starting to see is an effect he routinely has on women. “Do you want to join us?” she asks. “We can drag over a chair.”

  He chews the piece of chicken I gave him and swallows before shaking his head. “I’d love to, but my dog is out back, so I need to get going.”

  “Do you need a ride?” I ask. “Or did you come with friends?” I’m pretty sure he and Acorn walked here, but I don’t want my friends to know that.

  “Yeah, I came with the drummer.”

  Lies.

  “I can give you a ride home,” I offer. “If you want.”

  He reaches for my hand under the table and pulls it into his. “That’d be cool, if your friends don’t mind letting you go.”

  “They don’t mind,” I reply, not giving Ditra a chance to say otherwise. I’m sure I’ll get an earful from her tomorrow, but for now, I’m much more interested in spending time with Evan than I am in sitting here next to a guy I have absolutely no interest in while Ditra and Mitch get drunk enough to have sex with each other.

  Evan leans closer to me. “I just have to grab my stuff off the stage. I’ll meet you in the parking lot?”

  I nod and place my linen napkin on the table. “Sounds good.”

  Ditra pounces on me as soon as Evan is out of earshot. “Piper? What the hell? Why didn’t you tell me you were dating someone? Especially someone as smokin’ as him?”

  “We only just started seeing each other.” I can’t believe Evan came over here and proclaimed himself my boyfriend without any thought of how it would make me look in front of my friends. What if I was on an actual date with Phil?

  Ditra is still all over me from across the table, twirling her straw violently in her drink. “Is this why you’ve been so out of touch lately? Because you’ve got some majorly hot guy?”

  “He looks like a dirt bag,” Mitch comments, tipping his stool back on two legs.

  “Excuse me?” I practically snarl. “You don’t even fucking know him.”

  Ditra’s jaw drops. “Ooh, wow. I don’t think I’ve ever heard Piper tell someone off before,” she says, smacking Mitch’s shoulder before she turns back to me. “You must really like this guy if he’s making you all savage over him.”

  I jump down from the stool and grab my purse. “I’m not savage. I just don’t like judgmental people.” I pull twenty-five dollars out of my wallet and place it between the salt and pepper shakers on the table to cover my portion of the bill, then walk around the table to give Ditra a quick hug goodbye. “You’re not mad I’m leaving, are you?”

  “Of course not. I’d leave with him in a heartbeat. But you better call me tomorrow and tell me all about this guy. And no holding anything back. I’ll be waiting.”

  I pull from her embrace to smile at her. “I will. Have fun tonight, but be careful.”

  Unlike me, who now makes it a habit of going off with random strangers.

  “It was nice meeting you both,” I say to Mitch and Phil, and then I’m heading for the door, my heart beating erratically with nerves and excitement.

  Once again, I’m stepping into the unknown with zero idea of what or whom I’m getting involved in. I don’t know what Evan wants with me or how he feels about me. He could just be looking for another quickie, and look how fast I j
ust ditched my best friend and a potential date to be with him without any effort on his part other than a simple kiss. He didn’t even have to ask me to drive him. I offered all on my own. I’m clueless as to how this all works, but maybe I should be playing hard to get or acting mildly disinterested in him instead of being so easy.

  I’ve never been one for games, though. I like to be real. Authentic. I don’t know how to flirt or tease or play the games other girls might know how to play to make a man chase her and to keep him interested. That seems like a lot of work, and knowing me, I would probably make a mess out of it anyway. It seems easier to follow his lead and hope he doesn’t take me to a place I don’t want to be.

  When I get out to the parking lot, he’s standing next to my car with Acorn, his bag, and his guitar case at his feet, and I get the feeling, while physically this is all this man is and has, there’s a lot more going on inside him. Taking a deep breath, I walk up to him instead of getting into the car.

  “I got your note.”

  He nods. “And you came here instead of coming to see me.”

  “I was planning on trying to find you afterward.”

  “Were you?”

  “Yes.”

  He leans against my car fender and reaches out to move my long hair behind my shoulder. “You look pretty. Is that for me or that guy you were sitting with?”

  I attempt to play it cool. “Definitely not for him. I just met him tonight. I only came to be polite because my friend is interested in his friend.”

  His mouth clicks as he taps his piercing against his teeth. “Were you coming to see me to be polite?”

  “No.”

  “You’ve been avoiding me.”

  He says it with such sadness I almost burst into tears. I look at my feet and swallow the lump in my throat. “I’m sorry.”

  He tilts my face with a finger so I’m forced to look into his eyes. “You want to tell me why?” he asks softly.