Layers

by Sigal Ehrlich

  “So, Tash, speaking of which, how’s the love life?” I ask, turning my attention from Ian’s work on my feet.

  “Well …” Tasha halts, biting her lips, considering her words.

  “Oh? Trouble in office-infidelity paradise?”

  Ian cocks his head up from above my toes and snickers.

  “It’s just, I think, the excitement of it being forbidden is over, at least for me it is.”

  “Is that so?” Ian mutters, still concentrating on his artistic efforts.

  “Yeah, some of the things he does that I had found charming so far are starting to irritate the living hell out of me.”

  “Do elaborate,” I say encouragingly, patting her arm.

  “He’s a broadcaster,” she says with a faint smile.

  “A what?” I ask.

  “A what, Hales? Very well articulated,” Tasha comments. dryly. “You know, one of these announcing guys.”

  “Still not following here.”

  She glances at Ian and his smirk widens.

  “Come on guys, please do educate those who lack the knowledge,” I scold playfully.

  “He annunciates his moves before and during sex.”

  “Oh,” I say, thinking how odd and annoying that would be.

  “Just imagine, Hales. Oh, Natasha, I am going to take you now.”

  Both Ian and I burst out laughing at Tasha’s imitation of the boss man.

  “Sounds like a very badly dubbed porno movie. Keep your day job, Missy,” I say, between giggles.

  “Oh, Hayley, I am so going to fuck these lush lips of yours,” Ian says, making his voice hoarse.

  “Disgusting,” I slap his hand playfully.

  “Stop moving, you’re jeopardizing the work of an artist! I’m warning you.” He gestures toward my toes.

  We trade cheerful stares.

  “So besides the sex broadcasting, what else doesn’t appeal anymore?” Ian asks, blowing at my nails.

  “I guess most of it,” Tasha says, looking indifferent. “I don’t find him or even anything about the whole situation appealing anymore, and frankly it’s really annoying to have him obsess over me at work. All of a sudden he’s everywhere, and the second I speak to another guy for more than five minutes he appears.”

  “Did you try talking to him?” I say.

  “And say what? I’m done screwing you, can we get back to normal, boss?” She rolls her eyes, amused.

  “That could be one way, or tell him it’s becoming too serious and you would like to take a step back. Then gradually break it off,” I reply.

  “Or have your best friend talk to her lover boy and make him sack his broadcasting ass,” Ian adds.

  “Not even funny. Keep Daniel out of this,” I admonish.

  “Speaking of Mr. Stark …” Tasha diverts the topic from her.

  “No complaints coming from that front,” I respond with a smirk that is threatening to rip my face in two.

  “That bad, eh?” Tasha grins, looking happy for me.

  “Hey Tash, seriously, who would have thought!” Ian declares, shrugging. “Miss why-complicate-physical-pleasure-with-emotional-mumbo-jumbo, never-felt-anything-for-anyone is smiling like a total goof when you ask her about her ultra-hot boyfriend,” Ian says, quoting things I used to say so often.

  Tasha smiles at both Ian and me then contributes her own insights. “Yes, Ian, our little girl found her manic Prince Charming and is truly in love. Fairy tales do happen. If Hales is actually admitting to love someone, there’s hope for all of us.”

  “Fairy tales?” I ask, dubious.

  “Yes,” Ian answers. “Of the slutty princess who did not believe in love, who used to take advantage of innocent men, who finally got enchanted by a handsome, slightly deranged prince.”

  I let out a short cackle at the dramatic way Ian illustrates the story.

  “And how does this fairy tale end?”

  “They’re both committed to an asylum in a faraway kingdom,” Ian continues. “Doing it like bunnies till the end of days.”

  We all break into high-pitched hoots of laughter as he concludes.

  Out of breath, I say, “Quit your day job and write children’s books. You’ll be rolling in money.”

  “Hales will illustrate them and I’ll do the PR,” Tasha adds.

  “Drink, ladies?” Ian asks, standing up from the floor after doing a fine job on my nails.

  “What’s on the menu?” We ask in unison.

  “Well, evil twins, do you have any strawberries around?”

  “Frozen,” Tasha nods toward the freezer.

  “So strawberry daiquiris it is.” Ian grins from the kitchen.

  “I love you, you take such good care of us,” I say loudly over the noise of the blender. Ian reciprocates by sending an air kiss my way.

  We pile onto my bed, a pitcher on the nightstand and each of us with a full glass of pink frozen delight.

  “To the gifted bartender.” I raise my glass and my two friends join.

  “To no more sex at the office,” Tasha says, giggling.

  “To love,” I say and burst out laughing. Out of the three of us, I can’t believe I’m the one saying that syrupy nonsense.

  “We need to watch this one’s intake, god forbid we return her broken to the psycho,” Ian murmurs cynically and Tasha nods in agreement.

  “You guys are really intense,” she says over her glass.

  “I guess.” I shrug.

  “Well, he seems very determined about you.” My eyebrows furrow and Ian turns to focus on Tasha.

  “I’m just saying …” she says, checking out her nail polish.

  “What are you insinuating?” Ian speaks my thoughts.

  Her eyes come back to observe us both. “Well, he’s a serious mid-thirties, successful businessman. Not a kid, you know … I don’t think he’s into playing or taking things slow.”

  I take a long sip, looking at Tasha above the rim of my glass.

  “I’d expect it to become much more serious pretty soon, if you guys continue at this pace.”

  “Oh, c’mon.” I say and shake my head in skepticism. What does she know? Frankly, I personally am not ready to leap into something more serious than our current situation. Hell, I’m still getting used to all this love/relationship thing. There’s nothing to really stress about anyway, it’s just her romance obsessed, vivid imagination.

  “Don’t c’mon me, Hales, he took you to meet his mother, for heaven’s sake.”

  Ian nods. “She does have a point …”

  I take a deep, thoughtful breath.

  “Well, we were already there. It’s not that this trip was planned around this meeting. He usually visits her when he’s in Baja, so this time wasn’t any different.” Was it? No way! She hasn’t got the tiniest clue. I’m sure both me and Daniel are on the same page. Enjoy the present …

  “If denial works for you, go ahead. I still think I’m right.”

  “Then let’s agree to disagree.”

  She rolls her eyes dismissively and I twist my mouth.

  After my second glass I start feeling too warm and somewhat tipsy; I strip down to my tank top and boyshorts.

  “Last one for you, thank you,” Tasha says, taking away my glass, completely disregarding my disapproving pout.

  “Hey.” I turn to Ian. “I wasn’t going to say anything but,” I halt for a second to gauge what I am about to say, and with both Ian and Tasha highly attentive I continue, “my Ken doll boss is going to invite you to an interview for a photo shoot of YOU’s summer issue.”

  Ian’s face lights up. “Is that so, gorgeous?”

  “Hold on, there’s more.” I beam at him.

  “What is it, Hales?” Tasha asks.

  “The photo shoot is in the … Maldives! On some exotic island. I can’t recall its name right now.” Alcohol …

  “Are you fucking with me?” Ian breathes.

  “And I’m going too,” I add.

  “You are kidding me,�
�� Tasha mutters, studying me carefully.

  “Nope, all that’s left is for Ian to wow the focus group at YOU.”

  “Easy part.” Ian winks, ever self-assured.

  “Guys, I will be so jealous,” Tasha says, pouting.

  “You’ll have Rob,” Ian mocks her and we all crack up into hysterics.

  “So tired,” I say, yawning.

  “Come here.” Ian offers his chest as a pillow and I’m cradled in his embrace, slowly dozing, half listening to them talk about the last guy Ian was “seeing” till I fall asleep.

  Chapter 31: From Zero to a Hundred in a Split Second

  “Hey.” I dream of Daniel setting up the bonfire in Baja. “Hales.” He is talking to me. “Hales.” Someone is lightly rocking me by my arm. Opening my eyes to a fine slit, realizing it’s not a part of my dream, I look at the blurry figure bent next to me. Blinking a couple of times my vision clears.

  “Daniel,” I whisper, immediately elated. What is he doing here? Did I sleep a whole day? Did I miss work? He smiles at me, his eyes gentle. As I comprehend that I’m still rested on Ian’s chest I raise my head quickly.

  “I’m dizzy,” I whisper. Daniel tries to look upset, though his eyes, gleaming in the dark evening light, give him away.

  “Drunk, half naked and on another guy’s bare chest, all Girls Gone Wild-style. What am I going to do with you, Hales?”

  I bite my lip, blinking at him.

  “Come over.” He lifts me up my hands hugging his wide neck.

  “What are you doing here?” I ask, smirking, letting him carry me, enjoying his closeness.

  “Too hard to be Hayleyless, I guess,” he says, his animated eyes deep in mine.

  “I’m glad.” I blink at him again, this time adding a kiss, lingering on his addictive taste.

  “Mmm, you smell so good.” I nuzzle his neck, indulging in his unique scent. “Where are we going?” I ask as we reach the kitchen.

  “My house,” he says in a voice that doesn’t leave any room to object. “How much did you have to drink?” he asks.

  That obvious?

  “Not too much, we didn’t let her,” Tasha answers flatly from her place on the sofa, watching something on the National Geographic channel.

  “Thanks.” Daniel acknowledges her with a nod.

  “Here.” He settles me to one of the kitchen stools. “Drink this.” He hands me a large glass of ice cold water. I take some sips and am rewarded with a scowl ordering me to finish the entire glass. Okay, okay, ugh.

  “Now go get some stuff for a sleepover.”

  “Hey, am I allowed to say anything here? Oh mighty puppeteer, please release the grip on my strings, would ya?”

  Daniel lets out a short raspy chuckle. “I’ve been called all sorts of names before, most far from being positive, but puppeteer’s a new one. I got to give it to you for originality, Hales,” he says, amused. “And no, you don’t have any say. Nothing will stop me from taking you back to my place, not even you,” he says with a blank expression and as a smile sneaks onto the side of his mouth he pulls me closer, tugging me by my hand. Pinning me against him, he leans his head close to mine. “No, you don’t have any autonomy whatsoever.” He slaps my butt and adds, “And I love you crazy.” He kisses my forehead. That’s the perfect way to describe your love, D.

  “Well since you put it that way, Mr. Stark … though, for the millionth time, I do not take orders.” I seal a fleshy kiss on his lips and wink before heading to my room to get dressed and pack an overnight bag, like the obedient puppet I am.

  ~~~

  I get a double shot of espresso, hoping it will dissolve the last dose of alcohol still flowing in my bloodstream, before heading to visit Daniel who’s training at his mini gym, if mini would be a suitable description given its size and equipment variety.

  “Hey.” A flushed and smiling face, covered with sweat, welcomes me from under a pushed-up barbell. His taut, muscled body lies firmly flat against the bench holding the overhead barbell arm’s length above his carved chest, two large weights balanced at each side. He inhales loudly, descending; his biceps strain so alluringly as he places the pole back at its rack. His grey tank top is moist from excessive exertion. His blond waves are pulled back in a black hair band. I watch him, mesmerized. Steaming hot. In between aligning his breath, he mutters, “I’ll have a quick shower and come find you.” He pulls up the hem of his tank top to wipe his face, revealing his tan abs. I swallow the next sip hard. Resting my cup of coffee on the floor I say, “Oh no, you don’t.”

  “I don’t?” he repeats, turning his head, his eyes questioning.

  “Most definitely not, so help me god if you do,” I say, stepping toward him.

  “Hales?” He watches me, trying to figure out where I’m going with this, though a hint of a smile buds on his lips. Nearing him, I lift one leg over the bench and turn to sit astride him, settling myself on his pelvis. “You look so incredibly hot this way.”

  “Sweaty and stinking?” he asks, side smile intact.

  “Carnal and flushed.” I correct him with a suggestive rise of my brow, feasting my eyes with his body from my closer position above him. He could seriously give me a heart condition looking like this.

  I lean to kiss him and the saltiness of his perspiration mixed with the divine taste of his mouth turns my blood to magma. I help him lose his top and his just-worked-out, chiseled body teases me, making my nerves spike with pleasure.

  “By all means, baby, don’t hold back.” He grins at me and I can already feel his excitement against me. And there’s no holding back, not here at the bench and not when we hit the shower together.

  ~~~

  “I am so fucking grateful for your caffeine addiction and reckless abandon,” Daniel says, kissing my lips as we lie in bed, closely, parallel each other, heads resting on our hands.

  “Wow, thanks, I guess …” I return his stare with a dubious one.

  “Without these great attributes of yours we would have never met …”

  “I love you too.” I kiss him and snort, giggling.

  “Hales,” he strokes my cheek and briefly flutters his lips on mine. “I’ll take the risk of sounding impulsive and irrational but …”

  Like that is something that ever stopped you before! “What is it, Daniel?” I ask, smiling at him in the weak light of the room, my eyes level with his.

  “I think you should move in with me.”

  I guess Miss Taylor is a bonafide prophet.

  For a long beat I let his words sink in. Is he serious? This must be just another one of those ‘I am totally messing with you Hales, relax’, things. He cannot be serious. Psycho and impulsive as he is, this is over the top nuts even for him.

  “Hales, look at me. I’m right here.” Concern erupts from his voice. I lift my troubled eyes to meet his and am taken aback by the seriousness his hazel depths transmit.

  “You’re kidding?” I say tentatively. “This is the part where you say just messing with you, right?” I question, swallowing hard, feeling my mouth gradually turning to cotton.

  “No, Hales. I’m serious,” he annunciates each word firmly, in a low voice. “I’m trying to tell you that I hate every minute you’re not with me.”

  I feel the same way, but this is so soon, so wrong. This screams disaster waiting to happen, in capital letters.

  “Daniel,” I start and halt to reassess how I am going to deliver what I’m about to say. “I do feel the same way. Actually, I have never felt as right about someone as I feel about you. This is the first time I’ve actually fallen in love. I have never, in my entire life, felt anything remotely close to what I feel for you.” I pause to take in a much-needed breath.

  “This sounds like the beginning of a requiem of the idea to me,” he mutters flatly.

  “Daniel.” I touch his face, grazing his mouth with my thumb. “Please listen to me.”

  “Go on,” he says, not looking as keen as he seemed moments ago.

  �
��But as confident as I am about you, I’m still not so confident about all of this relationship stuff. I feel that it’s too soon for us to try to live together. This is all so new to me and I feel like it’s completely taking over my life.” I watch him, trying to evaluate whether what I am saying is getting through to him. There is no fucking way I’ll do anything to jeopardize what we have.

  “I’m not dismissing your idea, I’m just saying let’s take it one step at a time, let’s not jump into this. It’s just too new to both of us, D. Let’s try and not be impulsive, though it might feel like the right thing. Believe me, I had to fight myself to not stand in your way when you left my apartment earlier today.”

  He smiles though the smile doesn’t appear in his stare. “Hales, what I’ve learned throughout life—and believe me I did experience a few things to get to where I am—is that being impulsive isn’t necessarily a bad thing. Impulsiveness and strong gut feelings are what brought me to where I am in life and I consider it quite a good place to be.”

  “That it is,” I reply. Who can argue with that.

  “So, to summarize, my gut feeling tells me I have found the one.” He pauses to look at me with a penetrating glare, emphasizing the gravity of his argument. Hearing these two words I need to fight my urge to jump up and down and yell, “yes, I’ll move in this minute and never ever leave.”

  “I don’t think that acting passive rather than impulsive is the right way to go. But, my sweet Hayley, for once I’ll let you have it your way,” he chuckles.

  Thank you.

  “I don’t want you running out the door,” he adds, scornfully in what sounds like a non-negotiable concession. D, the last thing I would do is run away from you willingly.

  I try to process everything he laid on me. He just doesn’t stop dazzling me. How fast did we get from ‘I don’t kiss if I don’t mean it, I don’t do relationships’ to, well, this. ‘Move in with me’ …

  “Don’t get me wrong, Daniel, in my heart I feel like I would do anything you want but when reason sets in and I take control of my Danielized brain, I know this isn’t right.”

  He rests his hand on my cheek and brushes my lips with a tender touch of his. I kiss him back and think for a second.