by Julia Wolf
“Hey, Anna, what’s up?” my coworker Frannie asked as she came sauntering toward the salon from the opposite direction Will had gone.
I snapped out of my stupor and smiled at her. “Oh, hey, Frannie. I saw your boy last night.”
She raised a brow and we went into the salon together where I filled her in on bartender James, and I swear the coolest chick I’ve ever met actually blushed when I told her he’d been asking about her. Girl’s got it bad and she doesn’t even know it.
Ten
Will
Responsibility is stupid.
No one loved their job more than me, but not this week. I wanted to be with Anna more than anything, but when I was up making dough, she was still fast asleep. And when I went to bed for the night, she was out for drinks with friends.
Or at least that’s what I imagined she was doing. We texted off and on Sunday and Monday and I asked her to send me a picture of herself both days. She joked about being needy, but fuck if I wasn’t the needy one.
By Tuesday I couldn’t really hide my desperation anymore, so I called her.
“Hey, you,” she answered.
I let out a long sigh. “Hi, Annie. Are you still at work?”
“Nope, I’m home now. I’m in the middle of making a PB&J. Shouldn’t you be sleeping?”
I chuckled. “It’s 7:30. I’ll be up for a couple more hours. Can we video chat?”
“You want to watch me eat my sandwich?”
“I’d love nothing more.”
After a beat her face appeared on my screen and the ache in the pit of my stomach that had been there since I left her on Sunday eased infinitesimally.
“There you are!” she said.
“And there you are.” She was on her kitchen counter, wearing another tank top, her hair pulled off her face. A thought occurred to me, so I asked, “Are you wearing pants?”
She grinned and raised an eyebrow. “Of course not.” Then she lowered her phone, scanning down her torso, over the length of her bare legs, down to her feet and her black-polished toenails.
I groaned. “Why am I in Baltimore right now?”
Her face appeared back on the screen. “Because that’s where you live, silly.”
“True. Are you gonna eat your sandwich?”
She held up a triangle. “Here I go!”
I watched, mesmerized, as she made fast work of the first half of her sandwich. And she let me watch her, seeming not to have a care in the world.
“Is there anything better than a peanut butter and jelly?” she asked.
“I mean, I can think of a few things.”
She grinned and took a bite out of the second half of her sandwich.
“How was your day?” she asked between bites.
“Honestly, this is the highlight,” I said.
“Watching me stuff my face is the highlight of your day?”
“Mm-hmm. What about you? Tell me something.”
She took a drink, then wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. “I gave a little girl her first haircut today. Oh god, you should have seen her. She sat so still, like she was scared to breathe or I’d chop her ear off. And then after I curled her hair at the end, she couldn’t stop staring at herself in the mirror. Too frigging cute!”
I felt a tugging in my chest, right in the heartstrings region. Never could I have imagined Anna talking about a child in that way. I don’t think she even knew kids existed when we were teenagers.
“Do you want kids?” I asked.
“Mm-hmm. Yeah, hopefully. I plan on doing the exact opposite of everything my parents did with me.”
“I don’t know. You turned out okay.”
She laughed. “Just okay?”
I grinned. “Pretty swell, even.”
“Oh, you sweet talker, you.”
“Annie?”
“Yeah, Will?”
“Think you could play me some guitar?”
“Are you sure? Because when I play I usually have to sing too.”
“I’m ready. Got my earplugs in—”
She gasped. “William! How dare you!”
“Kidding! Go get your guitar because I really do want to hear you play.”
She carried the phone to her living room and set it down on her coffee table. From that vantage point, I couldn’t really see anything, but I heard her rustling around, then the sound of a zipper. After a minute, she picked up the phone and propped it on something.
“Ready?” she asked.
“Yes, ma’am.”
She crossed her legs under her and started strumming her guitar, playing slow, simple chords. Then she started singing and I froze. Her voice was soft and sweet. She wouldn’t win a Grammy anytime soon, but the words she sang hit me directly in the gut. The song wasn’t familiar to me, but it seemed to have been written about us.
She sang she was sorry for not seeing her lover falling in love with her. She was sorry for being blind and sorry for leaving everything they had behind.
When she finished and picked the phone back up, I was speechless.
“I told you I was awful!” she said.
I shook my head and swallowed. “No, that was really good. What was that song?”
“Oh, it was ‘Sorry’ by Halsey. She’s my favorite lately. I made Abe teach me a dumbed-down version of her song.”
“I liked it.”
She nodded. “It made you think of us, didn’t it?”
“Yeah.”
“Me too. It always has.” She looked up at the ceiling. “Still forgive me?”
“You still forgive me?” I asked.
“I do.” She sighed. “This is silly. Why aren’t we together?”
“Because I have this crazy idea about taking things slow and doing it right this time.”
“I really don’t approve,” she said.
I chuckled. “I don’t really either.”
“Show me around your place.”
I walked her through my row house, each of the three levels narrow, but long. I’d bought it a year ago and fixed it up myself. I could walk to my bakery from my house, so I didn’t have to give up my coveted street parking too often.
“I’m going to show you the best part,” I said.
“The giant bed wasn’t it?”
I smiled. “Just wait and see.” I walked up a couple steps, then opened a door and stepped outside onto my roof deck.
“Will,” she sighed.
The deck was just a simple square on top of my house, but the view was killer. I walked around the edges, the phone facing outward so she could see everything.
Anna gasped. “Is that the Domino sign?”
I chuckled, “Yep, sure is.” The Domino Sugars sign was one of the most iconic parts of Baltimore, and at night I had a perfect view of its orange glow.
“Well, now I’m jealous.”
“Hey! You have that awesome balcony. You can see actual nature from yours. My view is a sign from a factory.”
She stuck her bottom lip out. “But it’s pretty!”
“You’re pretty,” I said.
She smiled, and I swear, even through the screen of my phone, I saw a faint blush coloring her cheeks. “Have you always been so sweet?” she asked.
I nodded. “Yep. Pretty much.”
“And was I always oblivious?”
I nodded again. “Yep.”
“I’m not anymore, Will.”
“Good, Annie.” I sat down on a deck chair. “It’s about time.”
We talked for a while longer, got to know the ways we both had changed over the years. We were still Annie and William, still the people who’d been inseparable for so long. But we also had lives outside of each other. Even I could admit our teenage friendship slash codependency hadn’t been the healthiest, even if it had been the most meaningful relationship of my life.
We were both reluctant to say goodnight, but I’d turned into an old man in my youth and had to get to bed. She stayed on the phone while I brushed my t
eeth and changed into pajamas, even hung through me taking a piss.
“Can I tuck you in?” she asked.
“Are you gonna read me a story?”
“The only books I have on hand are super dirty. I don’t want to get you all riled up at bedtime.”
“Sing me a song?” I asked.
She scoffed. “You really are a glutton for punishment, aren’t you?”
“I like your voice.”
She smiled. “Okay, Will. Lie down and I’ll sing you to sleep.”
I got under the covers and reclined on my side, watching her through the screen.
She cleared her throat and in her soft angelic voice, started singing. “Ooooh, you make me live…”
My chest tightened as she sang the Queen song “You’re My Best Friend,” a song she used to sing playfully to me when I knew her before. But now she sang it with such aching sincerity, I found it hard to breathe.
When she finished, she asked quietly, “Did I put you to sleep?”
I pounded my chest to get my lungs going again. “Almost,” I whispered.
“Well, I’m going to let you sleep. Goodnight, Will.”
“Goodnight, Annie. See you soon.”
The screen went black and I laid my phone down on my bedside table. Damn, that woman had imprinted herself on my soul. How had I survived without her for so long when she was an actual piece of me?
There was no way I’d be able to wait until Saturday to see her. No way.
Eleven
Anna
I couldn’t stay away from him.
Not for one more day, much less three more days. How in the hell did we go ten years?
Our marathon phone call last night had left me feeling kind of desperate. I’d stayed up half the night going over everything we’d said, how he’d looked, how we’d ended the conversation. Could he really be serious about waiting until Saturday?
I’d looked up his address the previous night. It took all my self-control not to drive to Baltimore and sit outside his house, just to be close to him. I shook my head at myself. I’d always felt everything intensely, but these stalker tendencies were new.
I hatched a plan at work on Wednesday. He wanted dinner, drinks and dancing? I’d bring them to him and even tuck him in at his regular bedtime.
After my last client left, blow-dried and happy, I cleaned up my station and ran to my apartment to grab my Bluetooth speakers and change clothes. Then on the way to Baltimore, I picked up Chinese takeout and drove to Will’s house. It took me forever to find a parking spot, but I finally parallel parked like the boss that I was, then hiked three blocks to his house. And I got more than a few looks because of what I was wearing.
I stood in front of his house, nervous. I’d wanted to see him so badly that I hadn’t really thought of how he’d react to me randomly showing up at his place. I thought he’d be happy to see me, but what if I screwed up everything before we even really got started?
And that was my mom’s voice whispering those doubts. I rolled my eyes, kicked those thoughts straight to the curb, took a deep breath, and rang his doorbell.
He must have seen me through the peephole, because he yanked the door open, a wide grin on his face.
“Annie!”
I bit my lip. “Hey, Will. I was just in the neighborhood, so I thought I’d stop by…”
He grabbed my arm—my hands were laden with bags—and pulled me inside.
I laughed and held up the heavy paper bag I was holding. “You’ve probably already eaten, but I brought Chinese food.”
He took the bag from me, and then with his other hand behind my neck, pulled me close and kissed me soundly, shutting off all of my nervousness and trepidation with the press of his lips on mine.
“I have eaten, but I could always go for a little more.” Holding my hand, he led me through his narrow living room into his kitchen.
“This is super cute,” I said, turning in a tight circle to see the whole area. The shaker-style cabinets were cherry stained and the L-shaped counter was a very pale gray granite. It wasn’t big, but it was obvious it had been remodeled recently.
Will set the bag of food on the counter and I placed my tote bag next to it.
“Thanks, I did a lot of the work myself,” he said.
He started to step toward me, a possessive look in his eyes, but then he saw what I wore on my feet and stopped short.
“The boots…” he murmured.
I twisted one leg back and forth and grinned. “Sadly, they’re not the originals. Pretty similar though, right?”
I’d loved the blue patent leather boots I wore to prom, but I’d left them behind when I moved out of my parents’ house. A couple years ago I happened upon a very similar pair and had to have them. They’d been tucked away in my closet for the right occasion since then, and tonight was finally their time to shine. Instead of wearing a dress, I had on cut-off jean shorts and a plain white T-shirt.
Will walked around me, checking me out from every angle.
“Fuck,” he gritted out, so close behind me I felt his words on the back of my neck.
“I know you wanted dinner, drinks and dancing, so I brought it to you,” I said.
He moved back in front of me and slipped his arms around my waist. “You are a breath of fresh fucking air.” He nuzzled the side of my neck. “To tell you the truth, I was tempted to drive to your place tonight.”
I circled my arms around his neck and played with the hair at the base of his hairline. “I think we should just do what feels right. It definitely didn’t feel right not to see you for a week.”
“Nope, it didn’t.”
I kissed his scruffy cheek and breathed him in. “You smell like flour,” I murmured.
“Hazard of the profession.” He pulled back and hit me with a crooked smile. “What was that about dinner, drinks and dancing?”
We sat at the tiny dining room table tucked between the kitchen and living room with bowls of wonton soup and plates piled with half of the Chinese restaurant’s menu. For someone who had already eaten, Will really packed it away.
“Do you ever bake for fun, or does it feel like work now?” I asked, then popped a piece of kung pao chicken into my mouth.
“Nah, baking will always be fun. I mean, the business side of it can be a fun-sucker, but most days I feel like I’m livin’ the dream.”
Will had loved cooking and baking since forever. Even at fourteen, he’d spent his weekends creating new recipes, and I’d spent my weekends sitting at his family’s kitchen table watching him. He’d bring me cookies and treats to school, and for every one of my birthdays we spent together, he made me a gorgeous, elaborate cake.
Looking back, how I hadn’t seen that he was in love with me is beyond me. The way he took care of me and made me feel special was well past friendship. But I’d been young and dumb then. Now, if he even felt a fraction of the same way, I’d guard it carefully, like a match on a windy day. I knew how lucky I was to have this man back in my life. It scared the hell out of me that I’d screw it up—and me being me, there was a strong chance of that—but I had to try with him.
“I hope you’ll bake me something soon. I miss your concoctions.”
He chuckled. “I will. I haven’t gotten the chance to make a birthday cake in a while. Maybe I’ll make you one.”
“My birthday’s nine months away! I can’t wait that long!”
He nudged my foot with his. “Well then it’ll be a reunion cake. Or an ‘I kissed Annie for the first time in ten years’ cake.”
I laughed and took a long pull from my beer bottle. “Will you let me help make it?”
He snorted. “Remember what happened the last time you helped?”
I held up a finger. “Hey, salt and sugar look very similar! I’m sure it’s a very common mistake!”
He shook his head and grinned. “Remember my dad’s expression when he bit into it?”
“Uh-huh. I hadn’t known until that point that a per
son could literally turn green. Poor Mr. Diaz.”
“He still talks about that.”
“I bet. Tell him I’m still extremely sorry.”
Our laughter died down and Will tracked me with his eyes, following each small movement with interest.
“I think I was promised dancing,” he said softly.
“And dancing you shall have,” I replied just as softly.
I pulled my phone and speakers out of my tote bag. “I made a senior-year playlist.”
“Oh, yeah? Can’t wait to hear this.”
I set up my phone, cued up the first song, and stood, holding my hand out to Will.
“May I have this dance?” I asked.
He placed his hand in mine, then pulled me against him, one hand on the small of my back, the other cradling my hand between us.
When “Sex on Fire” by Kings of Leon began to play, he kept his eyes on mine and moved us in a rhythmic sway. The song wasn’t a slow one, but we set our own pace. Will rocked to the beat and our hips rolled together so sensually my goddamn sex was a blazing inferno.
“Did we dance to this at prom?” he asked.
“Mm-hmm. I think this song was part of what led to what happened after prom.”
He hummed for a beat. “Yeah, it does set a certain mood, doesn’t it?”
In my heeled boots, I only had to tilt my face up to meet his lips. The song switched to something by The Killers, but the music faded into the background of our kiss.
Will’s hands tangled in my hair while I gripped his shoulders. I couldn’t seem to get close enough, even with his tongue in my mouth and the fronts of our bodies pressed so close I felt the thud of his heart through my chest.
I pushed my hands up the back of his T-shirt and soaked in the warmth of his skin. I trailed my hands up his back, from the narrow of his waist, outward to the broad expanse of his shoulders, and then back down again. I dug my fingertips into the taut muscles, but still it wasn’t enough.
I ripped my mouth away from his and yanked off my shirt. He watched me through glazed eyes as I reached behind me and unhooked my bra. My body moved on pure instinct and need. The deep, base part of myself screamed out for him. Pressing my bare skin to his felt as necessary as taking my next breath.
