Seeing Black

by Sidney Halston

  “Silly?” Jill stomped her foot and groaned. “You don’t know what you’re talking about!”

  “I can tell. I don’t know how, but I just can. He’s up to something. I feel it. You’re blinded by him.”

  “No, I’m not. My eyes are wide open. I didn’t just ask you to meet him. I asked you to give him the benefit of the doubt. You didn’t do that, Alexander. You came in there already judging him. Why can’t you just be supportive?” She hopped on the motorcycle. Alexander followed. The motorcycle roared into life, and Jill grabbed on to Alexander’s waist tightly. No more words were spoken until they arrived back to Jill’s apartment.

  As if the conversation had been going on the entire ride over, as soon as he turned the bike off, he spoke. “I do trust you. It’s Rocco I don’t trust. You don’t need him, Jill. He’s a possible psychopath. Your mother was terrified of him. You’re being naïve.”

  “Stop saying that! Stop treating me like a child.” Jill slammed the door of her apartment. Alexander opened it and slammed it shut again.

  “Here we go.” Heather laughed as soon as she saw them stomp into the apartment, arguing. “You guys fight way too much. What happened now?”

  “We do not fight,” Jill snapped.

  “She,” Alexander pointed at Jill, “doesn’t see anything wrong with seeing Rocco. She,” he pointed at Jill again, “wants to have some sort of father-daughter relationship with that guy.”

  “Oh.” Heather drawled, her teeth biting her bottom lips.

  Jill’s head jutted towards Heather. “What do you mean ‘Oh’?”

  “Hon’, I don’t want to get into y’all’s little spat, but I’m not too sure about Rocco. I mean, after the Paul thing and the journals and the note, do you really think he just wants to get to know you? It seems weird.”

  Knowing she wasn’t going to win the fight nor did she even want to be in a fight, she gave up. “Fine. I’ll think about it.”

  “Good,” Heather said.

  Alexander smiled triumphantly. “Good girl.” He reached up and carried Jill over his shoulders to her bedroom. Heather giggled and yelled, “Chocolate cake.”

  Alexander dropped her on the bed, and she held her hands out and placed them against his chest to stop any further advancement. “I’m still mad at you.”

  “I know. But it’s for your own good. Think about it, babe. The guy’s no good. Your mom was scared of him, and I get a weird vibe. Even Heather agrees. Trust me on this one.”

  “He’s changed. But, fine, I’ll think about it.”

  “Okay, good. Now let’s talk about more important things.”

  “Such as?”

  “Such as,” Alexander reached down and kissed her shoulders then her neck. When Jill felt as if she would melt, he said, “Such as class. We have a test tomorrow. Stop trying to seduce me, and let’s get to work.” Alexander stopped kissing her, picked up his books, and dropped them on the bed with a wicked smile.

  Jill groaned. All of a sudden, studying was the last thing on her mind. But they had so much work to catch up on, so she had to control her hormones enough to get through a lot of reading and writing for class the next morning.

  ***

  “Well, look at you all grown up.” Heather playfully tugged on the lapel of Oliver’s button-down fitted black shirt, the long sleeves pulled back to his elbows, and jeans that fell low on his hips. His hair was trimmed short and his face shaved smooth. She stood aside to let them in. It was the Saturday of their dinner-nightclub-non-double-date outing.

  “Since we don’t act it, we try to at least look it.” Alexander winked as he gave Heather a quick kiss on the cheek. “You look great, Heather.” Heather wore an asymmetrical yellow dress that fit snuggly in all the right places. It was short, tight, and loud, much like Heather herself, and her very high heels did unbelievable things to her toned and tanned legs.

  Unabashed, she smiled and did a little twirl, causing her long pin-straight chestnut-colored hair to dance around her shoulders.

  “No. Better than great. Stunning,” Oliver said. His mouth hung open just a little. Any feeling he may have had for Jill was clearly gone and forgotten. Jill felt almost embarrassed for him at his reaction to Heather. It was cute. He was cute. So was Heather. Together they were just so . . . cute.

  “Oh, you,” Heather demurely patted his shoulder, “y’all going to make me blush.”

  “Babe, you look . . . Wow!” Alexander said to Jill who had been standing behind Heather but had now made her way to Heather’s side. His eyes always found her. Heather looked beautiful. Gorgeous. Any man would have stopped and stared, but not Alexander. Jill knew that anywhere they were, as soon as their eyes locked, they were lost in each other. It was as if their souls were connected, and every time they were in the same room, they gravitated to each other. Even when they were young, it was always like that. Her heart never failed to flutter when she saw him. Yes, Xander and Oly were twins. Yes, physically, they looked alike. But, in the last few weeks, it was as if she were seeing a whole new Xander. The interest that at one time may have been directed at Oliver was completely gone. He was strictly family, and there was absolutely no sexual attraction towards him. He may as well have looked completely different from Alexander. All this happened in such a short span of time. It was as if finally admitting she was in love with Alexander and only Alexander had completely blinded her senses to all other men—Oliver included. Xander was electric. He was soul-shattering, panty-dropping, heart-stopping, sweaty-palms, stupid-grinning electric. And tonight was no different. In fact, it was probably better because he looked better than usual, all dressed up. He sauntered into the apartment wearing gray slacks that, like Oliver’s, fell low on his waist, with a fitted black V-neck shirt. He didn’t bother to shave and therefore had a perfectly rugged yet gloriously sexy five-o’clock shadow. His blond hair, shorter than it had been a month ago, was still longer than Oliver’s. It wasn’t long enough to pull back into a ponytail anymore, but it was long enough that he was able to slick it back, causing curls to form at the nape of his neck. A loose piece of hair fell forward and that small out of place imperfection made him look absolutely perfect. Perhaps Oliver wasn’t the only one embarrassingly gawking. She knew this because Alexander walked forward and physically pushed her jaw shut with his index finger. He chuckled. “You’re staring, Red.”

  She didn’t mean to say it, but it just came out. “God, you’re gorgeous,” she whispered in awe.

  “Men are not gorgeous, babe. We’re rugged, handsome maybe, but not gorgeous.” He leaned in and brushed his lips against hers. “You, love, are gorgeous.” At first sight, it seemed as if Jill wore a reserved simple little black dress, but upon further inspection, it was far from reserved. Very far! It was short, but not as short as Heather’s, and it was sleeveless with a high collar, but the entire dress was made of a black delicate lace material with absolutely no lining except for two areas.

  “Holy shit. Only your tits and ass are covered,” said Alexander.

  “And her hoo-ha,” Heather chimed in with a chuckle.

  “You look good, Jill,” Oliver said, but his eyes never left Heather.

  “Thanks, Oly. And I am covered, Alexander. You can’t really see anything unless you look up close.”

  “Well, if anyone gets close enough to tell that you’re practically naked, I will kick that someone’s ass.” She smiled and shook her head. He ran his fingers through his hair. “Fuck, it’s going to be a long night.”

  “Y’all ready to go?”

  “Wait a minute. Why don’t you guys fix yourselves a drink or something? We’ll be right back,” Alexander said, he grabbed Jill’s hand and led her to her room

  “Oh no. No, no, no. You guys! We don’t have time for you to get a quickie in. I’m starved,” Heather whined and Jill blushed.

  “We aren’t going to . . .” He looked at Jill, “Unless you want to, then I’m game, babe.”

  Jill shoved his shoulder. “You are such
a pervert. We’re not going to do anything, Heather.” She looked at Alexander as to confirm that no hanky-panky was to take place.

  “We’ll just be a few minutes.” Alexander led Jill to her room as Oliver yelled for them to hurry up.

  Once inside, Alexander locked the door and moved to sit on Jill’s bed. “What’s up?” Jill questioned.

  “You look so beautiful.” He ran his fingers through her long soft red hair that fell loose over one of her shoulders.

  “You too,” she said. He smiled and patted the bed for her to come sit next to him. “Well, not beautiful, but gorgeous.” He smiled again. “Shit. I meant handsome. Whatever. I’m flustered all of a sudden.” He smiled yet again. “Will you please talk? You’re kind of freaking me out here,” said Jill. He seemed rather nervous. That wasn’t something she was accustomed to seeing from him. If there was one thing about Alexander, it was that he was always sure of himself. Cocky, really.

  “Close your eyes and count to ten then open them.”

  Her brows furrowed, but she did as he asked. She felt the bed move underneath her as she counted. When she opened her eyes, she realized he wasn’t there anymore. Instead a little box a distinguishable shade of blue sat on the bed in his stead. “Oh my God. What the hell?” Jill whispered to no one in particular. She looked down at a small box as if it were a snake ready to strike.

  A little blue box.

  A little blue jewelry box.

  Oh. My. God.

  Jill’s heart raced and her hands trembled. She was unsure whether to open it or hide under the bed. Taking her out of her heart-palpitating stare-down of the box, Alexander cleared his throat. She jumped. He had a knack for scaring her to death. He’d been leaning against the wall, behind her. He climbed back onto the bed, behind her, and wrapped his arms around her. He placed his chin on her shoulder and whispered in her ear, “Babe, relax. Just open it. It’s not what you think.”

  “How do you know what I think?” She just kept staring at the box.

  Alexander’s face was buried in her neck, and he spoke as he gave her kisses. “I’ve known you all my life. You work yourself up, and right now you’re not even breathing. I saw your reaction.” He gave her one final kiss before placing his hands on her shoulders and turning her towards him. He leaned down to look her in the eyes and whispered, “Breathe, babe. Just breathe.” She nodded. “I’m going to give you a moment. I’ll be right back.”

  She took a deep breath and reached for the small box. Carefully, she unwrapped the bow, opened the box, and sighed. She covered her mouth with her hand. A small, but not so small that it would get lost against the small indentation by her throat, diamond-encrusted seashell made of white gold and tiny red rubies sat in the box against something else wrapped in tissue. She pulled out the beautifully delicate pendant and white gold chain and unwrapped the tissue paper. Inside was a key, just a regular silver key. She held both items in her hand.

  She felt him before she saw him. She swung her head around, her eyes wet with unshed tears. “What is this?”

  “It’s a necklace.”

  She snorted and rolled her eyes, “I know that. But why?”

  “I wanted you to have something that reminded you of me, of us, of our time together on the island. I know I wasn’t the one who gave you that seashell all those years ago, but I’m giving you one now—now, as a man, not as a stupid boy who didn’t know shit, but as a man who knows what he’s giving you and what he wants.”

  Her lips quivered. “What you want? What do you want?”

  Alexander made his way closer to her, picked up the necklace, and turned her around, his front to her back. He whispered into her ear, “Pick up your hair, beautiful.”

  She did.

  He clasped the necklace and planted a small kiss on her shoulder. Her heart fluttered, her skin flushed, and her body shook. He then turned her around and picked up the key from her hand. “What I want? Well, what I want, you aren’t ready for. I saw that the moment you saw that box on the bed. But, for starters, I want you to have the key to my apartment. I want you to have some of your stuff there. I want you to come and go as you please, and, babe, when you’re ready, I want all of your stuff there.”

  “Are you asking me to move in?”

  “No. You’re not ready for that. You can barely deal with the necklace, so we’re taking baby steps.”

  “I so can handle the necklace.”

  “Babe, I love you, but seriously, you’re kind of a spaz.”

  “Am not.”

  “Yeah. You kind of are. You’re neurotic; you overreact and freak out over anything to do with commitment. I get it. I’m not going to push you. When you’re ready, you’ll move in or maybe even more.”

  She gasped. “More?”

  He laughed. “Relax. Right now, you come and go whenever you want. You leave some of your shit there. I leave some of my shit here. It’s all good.”

  “Aren’t we moving kind of fast?”

  “Fast? You see. Total spaz. Kind of fast? Yeah, you’re right, it’s only been like twenty years of this back and forth between us. Let’s just wait another twenty.”

  “Ha. Ha.” She walked to the mirror to admire her new, delicate, beautiful, over-the-top, necklace. “I just want to be sure that—”

  “That what? That you made the right decision by picking me over my brother?”

  And there it was. “No. No!” She turned to him. “I may be a spaz, as you say, but you’re insecure, Alexander Jacobs. You still don’t fully believe that there’s nothing between your brother and me. I don’t want you making promises out of insecurity or jealousy. When, and I am saying when not if, I move in, it will be because we’re ready, not out of some ill-placed feeling of having to have me close or else I’ll leave you. You don’t have to prove to me or yourself that I picked the right brother. I have no doubt—no doubt—that I’m in love with you or that I picked the right guy.”

  “Seriously?” he laughed and grabbed her hand and cupped her hand over the front of his pants. “You feel that?” Her face flushed. “That’s my dick, babe. You understand?” She looked completely confused. “I’m a man. You’re thinking all-girl shit. I don’t know anything about that convoluted crap you just spewed. Men don’t think that deep. Well, I certainly don’t. I want you to move in with me because I love you. I want to wake up to you every day. I want you in my house. I want to roll over in the middle of the night and fuck you. I want to know you’re there so that I can fuck you. It’s got nothing to do with Oliver. He doesn’t even factor into the equation, not my equation.” Then he let go of her shoulder, and his features changed. “Wait. Are you doubting your choice? Is this something you—”

  “No!”

  “The reason I don’t want to push you is because you freak out so easily, as you’ve just demonstrated. You looked at the box as if it were a ticking bomb. What I was trying to say before your crazy Oliver rant and your spaz attack was that once you move in and, yes, more—and you know exactly what more is, but we can’t even say that word because you will completely freak—you have to know that it’s forever. You’re not moving in then moving out because you felt you made a rash decision. I need you to be sure.”

  Through the mirror, she looked at her necklace, at herself, and at Alexander who stood behind her and took a deep breath. “The necklace is beautiful, baby. Thoughtful.” She kissed the hand that he had on her shoulder then turned around to face him. “Gorgeous.” She leaned in and kissed his neck. “Stunning.” She moved even further down and kissed tip of the V on his shirt. “Beautiful.” She reached for the hem of his shirt and lifted. His body stiffened against her lips as she moved even lower. Her eyes moved up to meet his piercing blue eyes. Locked into his eyes, she undid the button of his slacks and then pushed him on her bed. On her knees, she pulled his pants down, together with his boxer briefs.

  He cleared his throat. “So you like it, then.”

  “Oh, yeah, I like it.” She was so revved up that she c
ouldn’t form a coherent thought to save her life. Instead, for the next few minutes, she proceeded to show him exactly how much she liked it with her mouth.

  Chapter 5

  If life gives you a bowl of lemons, go find an annoying guy with paper cuts.

  -Helen

  A very annoyed Heather and a very angry Oliver stepped out of Heather’s car and walked into the night club. Dinner had been a little tense because of the delay in eating. Jill and Alexander had been as fast as possible, but when they had finally stepped out of the room, flushed, with hair out of place and a little skip in their step, no amount of pretending could cover what they’d just done.

  “Come on, guys, don’t be mad. Drinks are on me,” Jill offered.

  “Sugar, after having to sit for a half hour with Oliver, secretly wishing I was doing the same thing you were doing with your man but with Oliver, you bet your cute lil’ ass drinks are on you,” Heather sassed, locking an arm around Jill and leading the way to the club. Oliver and Alexander followed close behind. There was a long line to get in, but Heather walked with them right to the front, said something to the bouncer, and less than a minute later, they all sat at a small table close to the dance floor, but not so close that they would get trampled by all the people dancing.

  The music pounded, the strobe lights flashed, and the sweaty crowd danced and swayed with drinks in hand. Music was felt rather than heard. There were so many people packed into the room, sharing the same oxygen, that it was difficult to breathe. It was extremely stuffy and hot. The club oozed sex: people thinking about it, people wanting it, and some actually having it. It smelled of sweat, nicotine, and liquor. After the first round of drinks had been ordered and drunk and a second round had been brought over to the small table by a petite woman wearing a hot pink skintight micro mini dress, Heather must’ve conjured up enough liquid courage to stand up, grab Oliver’s hand, and demand he dance with her. Obviously willing to oblige, no demands necessary, he followed her towards the herd of people dancing with a huge grin on his face. He rocked to the music, Heather’s body tightly held against his. Oliver could move, as in really move. Their hips gyrated in sync, and Jill could see he said something into Heather’s ear. Heather tipped her head back and laughed loudly. Jillian couldn’t hear the laugh over the music, but she knew Heather’s laughs. Jill knew that Heather never held back, so it was surely a loud bellow. From where Jill sat, she saw one of Oliver’s fingers shoot up and trace the curve of Heather’s neck when she tipped her head back. Heather looked back at him quickly, and the mood between the two seemed to change quickly. Way to go, Oly!