by Naomi West
“Lessi, baby. I’ve missed you so much!”
“Me too,” I say breathlessly as she plunks me back to the ground. “What are you doing here?”
“I’m back!” she yells as she claps her hands together. “I got an unexpected scholarship and I contacted the head of my program and she said I could re-enroll!”
“Oh my God, Rett, that’s incredible. A dream come true!” I grab her hands and hold them, so happy for her. Across the room, Dare catches my eye and I feel some of the air leave my happiness balloon. He’s looking at me like I have a third head or something. As I stare back at him, he almost imperceptibly shakes his head and his expression goes back to neutral.
Rett follows my gaze.
“So what’s the deal with Lurch?” she stage whispers.
“Are you hungry?” I ask, leading her back to the kitchen. “I’ll tell you all about it.”
Chapter Seven
Dare
She can cook. I don’t know why this bothers me so much. It’s frustrating that she’s so good at everything. And so unbelievably gorgeous. And she smells like a flower shop. And looks like the beginning of a porn video all wrapped up in that towel with the steam all around her.
Christ. I pinch the bridge of my nose and take another bite of the tagliatelle that she made for her friend, Rett.
Alessia had been so blindingly happy to see Rett it had thrown me off. I’d never seen someone light up a room the way she just did. It was like she’d thrown open the blinds to reveal a sunny day. Then she’d looked across the room and seen me and instantly drawn the blinds again.
I guess I don’t blame her for that. I’m the source of pretty much all of her discomforts. All her surveillance. Every minor security adjustment she has to make. And not to mention I was the dude who carried her, half naked, into her bedroom. For the millionth time, I ask myself why I didn’t just shake her awake and make her walk to the bed.
There’s no doubt she’s been insanely embarrassed about it. She hasn’t looked at me in over a week. I want to tell her that she has nothing to be embarrassed about. That she’s a gorgeous, sexy woman and that it was one of the hottest moments of my life, but what sort of effect would that have on her?
I take another bite and the flavors explode over my tongue. Having Rett here has really opened Alessia up in a way I would never have anticipated. Alessia chatted away while she automatically started cooking up an old Italian dish, and then when it was ready she served me up a bowl of the pasta like she wasn’t even giving it a second thought.
I’m sitting across the kitchen from the women, trying to give them a little bit of privacy even though I don’t know Rett well enough to actually leave them alone together.
“So now he’s just gonna tail you everywhere?” Rett asks, seeming horrified by the idea. I school my face into a neutral expression and glance at Alessia, not wanting to miss her answer.
She shrugs. “I guess so. But I guess I haven’t really tested the ‘everywhere’ part yet.”
Rett gets a wicked glint in her eye and turns to face me. “Hey Lurch, would you trail her on a date?”
I grunt. Completely unwilling to talk about Alessia going on a date.
“I think that’s a yes,” Alessia translates for me.
I can feel Rett’s discerning eyes on me, but I’m not looking at her, I’m looking at Alessia. Rett turns her back to me and lowers her voice.
“Well, what about it, Lessi? Do you have anybody to test that theory with?”
“To date?” Alessia asks, her voice even quieter. They lean across the counter toward one another like I won’t be able to hear them that way.
Rett nods. “Got anything cookin’?”
Alessia shrugs and blushes. Rett’s mouth falls open at the same second I bite back a growl.
“You do!” Rett whispers excitedly. “Who!? Oh my God, tell me everything.”
Unconsciously I’ve started leaning toward their conversation because I find myself straightening immediately when Alessia pops her head up and looks at me.
“Can you wear some headphones or something?”
“Excuse me?” Even to me, my voice sounds like a husky growl.
Alessia crosses her arms over her chest in a way that pushes her breasts up toward the V of her T-shirt.
“I know you don’t know Rett well enough to leave us alone, and that’s fine I guess,” Alessia waves one of her hands through the air and it makes her breasts bounce, “but can we at least have some audio privacy if not some visual privacy?”
Honestly, it sounds fair to me. I used to do it all the time for Patrizzio. But for some reason, her request pisses me the off. What the fuck does she have to tell Rett about dating that is so goddamn private I can’t hear it?
I shrug and walk to the counter to where my headphones are in my backpack. I plunk them on and go back to sit at my chair. I turn on some music and face them, stretching my legs out in front of me to let them know that no matter how long they gab, I’m not going anywhere.
But I’m already forgotten as they lean their heads toward one another again, instantly chatting up a storm. I want to mute my music and listen a few different times, especially as Rett’s mouth drops open and Alessia’s cheeks turn pink. Alessia is talking more than I’ve ever seen her talk outside of class. Her hands move passionately through the air and her eyes are firing and alive.
I pinch at my growing headache again. If I get any more attracted to her, this is going to become a thing. Now that I’ve seen her in the height of passion, sweaty and writhing around with the heat of her own needs, I can’t un-see it. In fact, I’ve been seeing it on loop for the last week. Every time I close my eyes there she is, half naked and practically begging for it.
I give myself a mental jerk on the leash and adjust myself against my pants. The small movement seems to catch Alessia’s eye but she quickly turns right back to her conversation with Rett, her cheeks even pinker than before.
After about twenty minutes, Rett stands up and Alessia shoots me a thumbs up.
“Lunch tomorrow, sweetie?” Rett asks as she picks up her purse from the chair beside her.
“Definitely.” Alessia nods and I feel a small tug in my chest at the happiness behind her eyes.
“And I guess you’ll be there too, Lurch?” Rett asks me, a smirk on her face.
I nod and grit my teeth.
“Well, then I guess we should go someplace you’ll like too. What do you like to eat?”
“Italian,” I say and look Alessia in the eye.
She blushes deeply but doesn’t look away.
“Oooooooookay,” Rett says and claps her hands together. “I’m gonna beat it before the vibes in here give me a heart attack.”
“Rett!” Alessia exclaims and quickly glances at me to what I’ve made of her friend’s comment.
I give nothing away. My face is completely neutral. But inside my stomach is tight. I don’t want there to be any palpable vibes between Alessia and I. I’m nothing more than a bodyguard to her. I’m supposed to be blending in to the background, and in a year, she’ll come back to Chicago and I’ll go back to guarding Patrizzio. The thought brings nausea into my gut but I ignore it.
Rett has just done me a favor. She’s reminded me of my place.
Chapter Eight
Alessia
Rett’s return marks two things in my life. The forceful, joyous resurrection of friendship, and the absolute blackhole of silence coming from Dare. He’s barely spoken to me since.
Every morning he texts me with any security alterations to my plans for the day. And occasionally he’ll gruffly say something bossy.
And it bothers me.
It’s an emotional drain to have to constantly act like he isn’t this heavy presence. I wish I could just ignore him, but my thoughts and my eyes are drawn to him like he’s a magnet. It’s as if my life is a painting of beiges and then there’s Dare, a whole corner of the painting done in deep blacks and reds. Even if it’s not as
pleasant as the rest of the painting, it still pulls your eye to it every time.
I might have a better shot at ignoring him if it weren’t for the dreams. Which, much to my chagrin, have continued. Almost every night now, I wake up drenched in sweat and panting. For Dare. The constant aching need in my belly is growing. It’s starting to drive me up the wall a little bit.
Even my clothes against my sensitized skin is too much sensation. I’ve had to switch to exclusively wearing the few silk bras I own; the cotton and the lace ones pull against me too much. I feel like every inch of my skin is electrified. The constant state of arousal is starting to wear on my nerves. I try to explain it to Rett at lunch two weeks after she got back.
“I truly don't understand,” I whisper to her across the table on one of the dorm cafeterias we ducked into for a quick bite. Rett always knows how to charm the people who charge at the doors into letting us in for free.
I glance over my shoulder and see Dare in his headphones at the next table. This has become his norm since I suggested he wear them two weeks ago. For some reason, it bothers me. I used to feel out of my mind with his invasion of my privacy, but now every time I see those dumb headphones on I want to rip them off.
“It's pretty simple, sweetie,” Rett says and licks at the soft serve she just conned out of the guy at the dessert counter. “You're attracted to him.”
“But I’m not!” I insist. “I don't even like him.”
“The two aren't related. Trust me.”
And that's one of the reasons I will always love Rett. She's honest and never tries to make me feel naive or inexperienced. She's had guys eating out of her hands since she was about fifteen, but she doesn’t make me feel dumb while explaining this simple concept to me, her completely inexperienced friend.
She leans toward me and her eyes search mine with concern. “Lessi, I’m a little worried that you’re in a little over your head with that one.”
“What do you mean?” My food turns over in my belly.
Rett thinks for a minute, her eyes off to the side. “I guess I just mean that he’s really hard to read, you know? There’s no telling what he’s thinking. And that’s a hard kind of man to be dreaming about.”
My eyes snap up to hers. “I’m not dreaming about him,” I hiss, “I’m having dreams about him. It’s different. You make it sound like I’m doodling his name in my binder.”
Rett grins at me and I can’t help but smile back. “Whatever you say.”
“Really. Like I said before, I don’t even like him. He makes me feel like there’s not enough air in the room. Like I can’t breathe.”
Rett raises her eyebrows sardonically. “You mean he makes you feel breathless?”
“No!” I quickly correct my mistake. “I mean he makes me feel on edge. Rett, if your eyebrows crawl up your face any farther, you’re gonna lose them in your hair.”
“I’m just saying. ‘On edge’ sounds like he makes you feel very aware of him, of his presence.” She rolls her ice cream in a circle like she’s making an etcetera gesture.
“Trust me. It’s not like that. It’s just dreams. And I don’t even get why I’m having them.”
“Lessi, one theory on that could be that the dreams are your body’s way of telling you that you find him physically attractive.”
The thought strikes me. I toss my hair over one shoulder and peek through it to surreptitiously look at Dare sitting a few tables down. He's looking in the other direction and it gives me the opportunity to study him. His eyes have a way of stopping you cold. You can't look past them. Do I find him attractive?
He’s not ugly, that’s for sure. His features are blunt and extreme. His heavy brow creates shadows that blend in with the stubble of his dark beard. He has deep purple smudges under his eyes. Has he been sleeping as poorly as I have? His mouth is stern and full. He takes a sip from his water bottle and his white teeth flash at me, reminding me of a wolf’s fangs. No, he’s much larger than a wolf. A bear, maybe.
He runs a hand roughly through his black hair and it draws my eyes to his hands. That’s something I don’t have to think twice about. His huge hands and broad shoulders and long, long legs.
“I’m definitely attracted to his size,” I whisper to Rett.
Her mouth drops open. “Um, have you been holding out on me? When did you get acquainted with his size?”
My brain, still caught up in watching Dare, is two steps behind what Rett is saying. “What? Oh! Oh my God, Rett. I meant the size of his body. Not the size of his…”
I cover my face with my hands as I feel a blush spread across my cheeks.
Rett throws her head back and laughs. “I mean even if you haven’t seen it up close and personal, come on. People are generally built in proportion and he’s gotta be, what, 6’5”?”
I blush even further and peek back over at him. To my complete horror, he’s staring back at me. And for the first time in two weeks he doesn’t look completely neutral. He looks curious.
I shade my eyes from him and lean over to Rett, yanking her ice cream out of her hands.
“Hey!” she yelps, grabbing for it.
“You’re embarrassing me! You’ll get your ice cream back when you can behave.”
Rett gives me puppy dog eyes and crosses her hands together in front of her like she’s praying. “I solemnly swear I won’t talk about how hot Lurch is anymore. Or postulate any more theories about the size of his presumably enormous-”
“Everything alright?” Dare cuts her off as he suddenly looms over the table.
I squeak and hand Rett her ice cream back.
“Just peachy,” Rett says as she takes an enormous lick of the cone.
“Alessia, we’re going to be late for your discussion section,” he says to me and it’s the longest sentence he’s said to my face in weeks.
I glance at the time on my phone and gasp. “Shoot, I thought we had more time. Sorry, Rett! I’ve really gotta go.”
“That’s okay,” she says through a mouthful of ice cream. “Check your phone in a minute. I’m gonna text you the answer to the problem you’ve been having?”
She has an answer for how to get rid of the sex dream problem? I nod, curious what she’s going to say and relieved she’s not going to say it in front of Dare. He and I quickly leave the cafeteria. I startle in surprise when we reach the street and feel my messenger bag lifted off my shoulder. He tosses it across his back and veers in the direction of my next class, his eyes sweeping from side to side.
“You don’t have to carry my bag!” I exclaim, hurrying to keep up with his pace. His long legs eat up the sidewalk. I have to take three steps for every one of his.
“I’d rather carry your bag than carry you to the emergency room in a week,” he says gruffly, throwing out his arm to keep me from plowing into the street at an intersection.
I ignore the shooting thrill of his arm against me. “Why would I go to the emergency room?”
“Because you push yourself too hard in school, you never sleep, you only eat when Rett makes you, and your bag weighs a third of your body weight. Carrying it for you is a preventative measure for the stroke I’d rather you didn’t have.”
He seems angry and for some reason it sends a thrill of excitement through me.
“You don’t sleep either,” I say and try to grab my bag back from him. He swats my hand away and holds open the door of the building we’re going into.
“Excuse me?” he asks, raising his eyebrows.
I shrug. “Judging from the purple underneath your eyes I’d say you enjoy sleeping in that condo just about as much as I do.”
He grunts but doesn’t say any more. He stiffly hands my bag back to me as we enter the classroom together and I realize he’s closed his face off again. Without another word, he turns and strides to the back of the classroom.
I sigh and go to my usual seat. Looks like the silent, hulking, looming black hole is back. I run my fingers through my hair and tell myself it doesn
’t matter. I don’t need him to be warm or sweet to me. I just need him to protect me and stay out of my way.
Iceberg.
As I pull out my notebook and textbook for class my phone buzzes again in my pocket. It’s the text Rett promised me.
The answer to solving your wet dream problem is about to sit next to you in class.
I look confusedly at the empty seat where Chris usually sits.
Chris?
Yeah. Ask him on a date. Execute a little wham bam thank you ma’am and clear out some of the sexual energy that’s been dogging you.
