Head Over Heels

by Mia Madison

  "Devon needs to get screwed," Mimi blurted out around a mouthful of margarita.

  I saw the surprised look on his face and could have kicked Mimi for blurting that out. "I got screwed - at work - it's just a minor work thing - having to do with work," I rushed to explain. I took a deep breath, threw my inebriated friend a dirty look, and tried to save the situation, "really it's just an excuse to get out of the office and socialize."

  "Socialize," he echoed.

  "Yeah," I went on, "this place is close to the office so it's where us worker minions let off steam." I'm pretty sure I flipped my hair and drawled, "I guess we're kind of regulars around here."

  "I know," He chuckled, "I've seen plenty of your co-workers in here, but I can count on one hand the number of times you've shown your face."

  So, two things - one, he just caught me in a lie, but two, he just admitted he's been looking for me. Ok, maybe he didn't say that exactly, but it was close enough that my insides were doing summersaults over the unexpected revelation. I raised my glass and tried to replace the embarrassment I felt over being caught in a lie with the vision of him sitting alone at the end of the bar pining for me. After a few moments, both thoughts were drowned out as I realized he was waiting for me to say something.

  It was now or never.

  "Well," I leaned forward to put my hand on his arm and almost did a happy dance when he leaned closer. As I stroked his forearm lightly with my fingers, I murmured, "then I guess it's about time that I enjoy myself."

  "Me too," he shifted slightly in his seat and I honestly think I heard him groan - right there in the middle of the pub.

  "Yeah," Mimi interrupted loudly as she craned her neck to survey the room, "I come here too… sometimes…"

  At the sound of her voice, I hesitated and removed my hand from Michael's arm. I savored the way my fingertips still tingled from his touch but lamented at how much better I used to be at this - but then I also used to see daylight on a regular basis.

  With a slight chuckle, he pulled his attention away from me. "So, Mimi, you come here too?"

  Waiting for her to answer, I felt some satisfaction in knowing he wasn't keeping tabs on her whereabouts. Biding my time, I picked up my drink and rolled the stem lightly between my hands. Michael's eyes darted back to follow my every move. Emboldened by his attention, I slowly fingered the edge of my glass and captured an ice cold droplet of water with my finger. I brought the finger to my mouth and slowly ran it along my lower lip. Michael ran his tongue along his own lower lip and I swear I almost drooled.

  Instead, my tongue darted out to lick the soothing drop off the tip of my finger, and then I nestled the digit lightly between my teeth. As I lightly sucked on the long-gone droplet, I saw the muscle in his jaw twitch. I felt a warmth rush through my body and recognized his reaction was an intoxication that no alcohol could match.

  "Yup," my friend answered vaguely before turning her attention back to him pointedly. "Hey, what are you doing here anyway?"

  Busy watching my wayward finger, Michael had lost track of the conversation and missed his cue. When Mimi rapped her knuckles on the table to get his attention, he looked slightly startled. "I was hoping to grab a meeting," he offered vaguely and then looked around the bar.

  "Oh!" with a loud sucking pop, I quickly pulled the finger from my mouth. "I didn't realize you were here on business." What the fuck was I doing? Forget about the fact that he was completely out of my league, I was coming on to someone I had to work with.

  I tried my best to look respectable, but between the alcohol and my finger stunt, I wasn't sure that was even possible. I swear I don't know what it was about Michael Saunders that made me act like that. "We don't want to keep you," I tried to sound casual, but I'm pretty sure my humiliation was on full display for the entire bar to hear.

  "You're not keeping me at all," he added smoothly. "I have plenty of time," after another quick scan of the room, he added, "in fact, I'm not sure my contact will even show up." He turned his head and spoke softly so only I could hear, "and, I'm not sure I want them to."

  My breath caught in my chest and I wasn't even sure what to say to that revelation.

  "Well let's hope they don't show up," Mimi interjected, "we don't need anyone else sitting down here." Snorting over whatever joke she had going on in her head, Mimi went back to her margarita as an awkward silence descended on the table.

  While the two of us fingered our drinks and eyed each other covertly, Mimi began to sing along with the jukebox. Although the song was drowned out by my friend's off key and incoherent vocals, the spectacle gave me some cover as I waged a silent battle within myself. I spent the next few moments lamenting my last drink and debating on how - or even if - I should proceed. If something didn't happen soon, we would either spend the evening staring at each other like schoolchildren, or he would get up and find any available meeting to attend just to get away from me.

  I took a deep breath and turned to him. It was time to grab hold of those horns.

  4

  In the middle of a rousing chorus of a classic rock anthem, Mimi stopped short and squealed. "Oh shit," she yelped and turned her head to avert her face from view. "Jeremy Rainier just walked in."

  Fuck me - my timing sucked today.

  Michael's head whipped over to Mimi and he chuckled, "So, your boss doesn't know you're here?"

  "Nooooo, so… shhhhhhh" Mimi put her finger to her lips and whispered conspiratorially.

  I watched my friend contort herself into a pretzel while trying to avoid detection, and I was immediately sorry for dragging her out of work and into the mess that was my life. I got us into this, so it was up to me to get us out.

  I put aside my dream of a passion-filled encounter and turned to Michael. "This was fun," I apologized with a regretful grin, "but it's time to go."

  "How are you getting home?"

  "My car is-"

  "No, you're not" he interrupted with a concern that I found both sweet and disconcerting. "Neither of you are in any shape to drive tonight."

  He was right of course - if I was only half as bad as Mimi, then I was still way too far gone to drive. "Well then, I guess we'll have no choice but to call an Uber."

  "That won't be necessary," he interjected in the same conspiratorial hush that Mimi was using, "I'm parked just outside - I'll drive you home."

  The image of him driving us home opened all sorts of dirty thoughts into my mind, and just for the moment, I allowed them to run free. "That's so nice of you," I gushed.

  I turned toward Mimi and noticed that she seemed to be melting into her chair to avoid detection. I rolled my eyes but also dipped my head toward her and whispered, "Michael is parked right outside-"

  "Awesome!" Mimi cried out in a stage whisper while throwing her arms around me, "Devon, I think that's wonderful!"

  Michael stood up and glanced around the bar, a moment later he leaned over to whisper in my ear, "Jeremy went into the back room. Can the two of you make it to the front door without me?"

  He had moved so quickly that I was unprepared for the warmth of his hand on her shoulder, or the tingling that went down my back as he whispered in my ear.

  "Yes - oh wait," stumbling over my words as he moved in closer, I took a breath and tried my best to think straight. "I have to pay the tab at the bar."

  "I'll take care of that." As he spoke, his lips brushed against my cheek, and I had to control the urge to draw my fingertips up to caress his face. "Just wait for me out front," he commanded before quickly leaving my side.

  As he moved away, I felt oddly dejected and more than a little bit perturbed that I couldn't throw him on the table and have him right there. I turned my head to follow his path and noticed him make his way past a table of rowdy construction workers before turning to follow my boss into the back room. Tamping down my curiosity, I gathered up my friend and headed for the entrance as ordered.

  I did my best to hold on to Mimi with one arm and pushed open the
heavy oak door with the other. As a result, we stumbled through the doorway and almost ended up in a heap on the sidewalk. A cool summer breeze sent a shiver down my spine and I straightened my back against it. After the warmth of the packed bar, and the intoxicating presence of booze and a good looking man, the crisp air felt invigorating. I took a deep breath in an effort to clear the fuzziness in my brain and considered my next move.

  "Where are we going?"

  With Mimi leaning against me, inebriated past anything I had ever seen before, I struggled to support my friend and prayed that Michael would join us before I lost the battle. "Michael is taking us home," I answered in my most soothing voice.

  "Oh, man is he hot!" Mimi started to slip from my grasp as she turned back to the bar, "I think you should get a piece of that ass!"

  Of course, Michael took that moment to step out the front door and catch Mimi before she hit the ground. "Up you go little lady," he called out cheerfully as he politely ignored her remark, "time to get you somewhere safer."

  "Like a bed," Mimi growled while giving him what could have been called a come hither look.

  "Yes," he returned amiably as he walked us toward his pickup truck, "you should be in bed."

  Although the smile on Mimi's face told me she had missed the point of his comment, I didn't. As he bundled my friend into the passenger seat, she took the opportunity to wiggle her finger between me and Michael and then gave me an exaggerated wink. I rolled my eyes and waited for Michael to get her situated. When he stepped away from the cab, I looked inside and noticed that there were only two seats.

  I tried not to be too crestfallen with the way things were turning out, after all, I was responsible for getting Mimi into this mess. "So, should I climb in back?" I tried hard to hide my disappointment and was surprised at his quick chuckle.

  "No, don't worry," he said as he captured my hand and pulled me around to the driver's side, " it's a three seater." Opening the door, he popped up the arm rest like a magician revealing a trap door. "I hope you don't mind," he said as he helped me into the cab, "It's a bit of a tight fit."

  "My favorite," I quipped. Maybe things were looking up after all.

  Michael was about to boost me up into the driver's seat when I took the opportunity to slip my hands over his shoulders until my fingers brushed against the nape of his neck. He moved in closer and looked like he was debating his next move. With a low growl, he leaned forward until our lips were so close that we shared the same breath, I closed my eyes and waited for the inevitable.

  "Yoo hoo! Michael! I live at 312 Maplegate Lane," Mimi called out, "Do you know where that is or do you need directions?"

  Breaking apart, we shared a rueful smile before I scooted over into the spare seat. When he climbed into the cab, I felt his thigh brush against mine and savored the warmth.

  "I don't need directions," he said to my friend, "but at least I'll enjoy the company," he added more softly so only I could hear.

  The powerful hum of the engine was no match for Mimi's latest rendition of, "Do you think I'm sexy," and as we drove down a number of winding streets, we jostled about in the cab. True to his word, it was a tight fit, and I took advantage of the opportunity to get closer to him. With his thigh pressed up against mine, my fingers accidentally brushed against his leg for support and relished his deep chuckle as I did. On one particularly sharp curve, my hand slipped between his thighs and his low growl convinced me to leave it there.

  "Hey," Mimi called out in dismay, "You just passed my house!"

  With a resigned chuckle, Michael slowed down and threw the truck in reverse. As he turned to look out the back window, his slight movement forced my hand even deeper between his legs and he groaned with anticipated pleasure. In another time and place, I would have kept my hand there and maybe pushed it further, but all things considered, I reluctantly removed my hand from its cozy resting place. Michael's frustration was palpable when he stopped the car in front of Mimi's house and jumped out to help as she fumbled with the safety lock.

  "I don't understand why I can't open this-" Mimi yelped when she finally managed to open the door, and for the second time that night, Michael was there to catch her before she fell. As I watched Michael take care of my friend, a pang of jealousy hit me hard. I slid out of the cab and was just about to take Mimi's arm when the door to her brownstone flew open and a huge bear of a man stepped out.

  "Meems! What happened," the man bellowed from the top step.

  "Derek! Hey, look, guys, it's my little baby brother," Mimi shouted with pure adoration. While she wobbled delicately against Michael, Derek bounded down the stairs. Slapping her human crutch lightly on the chest, Mimi asked, "Hey Mikey, isn't he just the cutest?"

  "Yeah, he's adorable," he responded sardonically.

  "Hey man," Derek looked at his sister wrapped around Michael and then over at me.

  "Sorry Derek," I called out apologetically as I moved closer to Michael and put my hand on his bicep, "I'm afraid I was a bad influence on Mimi tonight. Michael was nice enough to drive us home."

  With a quick nod, Derek swooped up his little sister and tossed her over his shoulder with ease. "I've got her from here dude, but thanks for driving her home. Gotta love a double D!"

  Derek turned and headed for the stairs when Mimi lifted her head and giggled, "that's a designated driver, not your cup size."

  "Thanks," Michael chuckled, "that's good to know."

  "Alright lushy," her brother announced with glee, "I've been waiting for something to hold over your head for years! But for now it's time to drown you in aspirin and water, and put you to bed."

  We watched as the two disappeared into the building, and then I turned and focused all my attention on my designated driver. I smiled and waited to see where this was going. Michael cocked his head to the side and regarded me curiously.

  After a moment, he suddenly broke the silence, "so, are you going inside?"

  I shook off the disappointment in that comment and finally took my opportunity. With a wicked gleam in my eye, I started to walk towards him, "how about you take me home and do nasty things to me instead."

  "Nasty?" His voice was deep as he regarded me, and as he reached forward, I shivered slightly.

  "Well, not bad nasty… good nasty…" As my words hung in the air, I placed my hand on his chest and slowly moved them down to the waistband of his jeans. Dipping my fingers inside I pulled him closer.

  Abruptly pulling away, he looked around the empty street and I wondered if I had pushed my luck too far. But satisfying himself that were no late-night voyeurs watching us from the shadows - or worse, waiting to interrupt us - Michael quickly gathered me up in his arms and dipped his head towards mine.

  "I live a couple of minutes from here," he whispered before capturing my lips with feather light kisses. The lightness of his touch left me yearning for more, and the way his tongue danced across my lower lip made my knees buckle.

  He gripped me tighter and deepened his kiss, and I felt a heady rush that had nothing to do with my earlier intake of alcohol. When he finally broke contact, I all but whimpered for his return. "If you're serious," he chuckled and lightly nipped at my bottom lip, "I know all kinds of nasty things I would love to do to you."

  The trip to his home took no time at all.

  5

  I awoke with the kind of dull headache you can only get from way too many martinis. I pulled the blankets over my head and tried to wade through my spotty memories of the night before. Mimi and I had way too much to drink, then there was a wild car ride and some oh-so-fantastic kissing. Somewhere around the time I remembered kissing Michael Saunders, I realized the blankets I was hiding under weren't mine.

  Shit.

  I could tell I wasn't naked, but I certainly wasn't wearing the blue pin-striped suit with my favorite flippy skirt that I put on the day before. I was also very much alone under the blankets. Which was ominous.

  I knew I had to come out from under there at some p
oint, so I cautiously pulled down the blanket and immediately shielded my eyes from the swaths of ultra bright sunlight that filled the room. Was there some sort of cosmic reason why the sun was at its brightest during a hangover?

  "Who are you?"

  Double shit.

  I opened my eyes and blinked through enough of my fuzzy vision to see a young girl no older than four or five standing beside the bed staring at me. Her large brown eyes looked familiar, but otherwise, I had never seen her before. Her perky mouth was screwed to the side as she looked at me questioningly, and I couldn't help wonder how she breathed out of her tiny upturned nose. For a second, I wondered if I was still dreaming, but then I saw she was wearing my pink polka dot push up bra on top of her wispy blonde hair like an obscene pussy hat.

  Triple shit.

  "Well, who are you?" I did my best to bide my time while trying to figure out exactly where I was. I sat up slowly, hoping not to anger the hangover gods and had a look around. First off, I was thrilled to see I wasn't in the little girl's bed. The California king sized bed dwarfed anything I had ever slept in before, and the muted gray and blue around the room didn't give off any My Little Pony vibes.

  "I asked you first," the little girl looked at me expectantly and then went on, "ya know, Daddy says it's rude to not answer when somebody asks you a question."

  "That's right, Elizabeth," Michael's voice boomed out from the doorway. Damn, he looked good - even in an old t-shirt and pajama bottoms - he looked damn good. I just wished I could remember what happened the night before.

  "Daddy!" Elizabeth jumped up and down at the sight of Michael carrying a breakfast tray, "are we having breakfast in bed?" Without waiting for an answer, she launched herself onto the bed and scrambled into the middle. Crossing her legs, she folded her hands primly in her lap and waited to be served.

  Daddy. Those were my worst fears realized.

  I looked back at Michael and we both began to mouth the words, "I'm sorry," to each other at the same time. This was getting more surreal by the minute.