“Fine, one more. But that’s it. Some of us have work tomorrow.”
“Tal, you pop zits for a living, how taxing could that be?”
“I hate you.”
“Didn’t we already play this game tonight? Now try that again with a straight face.”
“I hate you.” Her attempt was entertaining.
“No, you don’t.”
Her caramel eyes twinkled when she whispered, “No, I don’t.”
My hand involuntarily reached over to cup her cheek, as if it was the most natural thing in the world. “I missed you.” Understatement, but it needed to be said. Shit, I was getting all sentimental.
She pressed her hand over mine and brushed her thumb over my knuckles. “Me too.”
Her eyes clenched when she spoke, and I could have sworn her voice almost cracked. Maybe it was the alcohol. But my gut told me there was something else. Tonight was too perfect, so I decided not to push. Besides, there was plenty of time. No way this woman was disappearing from my life again. Period. Listen to me getting all possessive. Possessive of my family, yes. Possessive of my best friend, yes. Possessive of a woman, hell no. What was she doing to me?
We took our refills and moved from the uncomfortable ass-numbing barstools to a now vacant lounge cube. Simultaneously propping our feet on the leather ottoman, we clinked glasses.
“What’s up with the wannabe champagne?”
“I like it. Like you’re one to talk. Heineken?”
“What? It’s a solid classic. Never disappoints, always delicious.” Come on. Was there an argument?
She sat back and stared at me, her crystal eyes speckled with every shade of brown. Parting her lips into a half smile she whispered, “Hmm. Sounds familiar, like someone I know.” Yup, tomorrow I was looking into setting up a West Coast office. No doubt.
Time changes sucked. Hangovers sucked worse. Lucky me, I woke up to both. While my East Coast inner alarm pounded behind my still closed eyes, yesterday played back in high definition. Her hair, her smile, that unbelievable laugh, the bickering back and forth, midnight nachos, her bare feet on my lap when we laughed through last call, the uncomfortable bulge in my pants when I watched from the backseat of the cab when she closed her front door. Three hours of sleep and a significant headache ... totally worth it. I had my friend back. And since I was a guy, my temples weren’t the only part of me throbbing. My morning wood solidified I wasn’t falling back to sleep anytime soon. I opted for the cold shower. The intensity of a release, even self rubbed, after last night and last night’s dreams would have been lethal considering the bounding vessels threatening to rupture in my head. Reaching for a towel, my phone dinged in the other room. No way she was awake already. She held her own with her Italian bubbly, but she was half my weight, if that. She had to be hurting. That realization sliced through me. Nice job, jack ass.
Had to bail, shit came up.
Hit the bags Monday?
Disappointed that it wasn’t her, I felt like even more of a dick. Chase got back from Japan last week, but with work being insane and my focus on all things Talia, I hadn’t seen or spoken to him. Like creatures of habit, we sparred twice a week and had since we were kids. It was our thing. We saved the punch for each other and when the other wasn’t available, which was rare, we resorted to hitting the bags. It was our go-to release for pent-up frustrations. The fact that he bailed didn’t sit well.
Monday works.
I purposely left out I was across the country and not gonna make it anyway. Sort of happy I got out of the ‘I have to bail’ text. He never let me off the hook without twenty questions and that conversation—totally inevitable—wasn’t happening today. So I kept typing.
You alive??
Hate me??
Answered that one, twice if I remember correctly :)
And yes … still have a pulse...
Barely :(
She was too much, her and her sassy response.
Let me make it up to you.
Egg sandwiches make everything better.
U promising bacon?
Only girl I knew who appreciated bacon.
For you anything
Before I could think too hard about how honest that statement really was, the same California number from yesterday flashed on the screen. But instead of unknown, today it read TP Home.
“Hey, you, how are you feeling?” I whispered for both our sakes. But I really hoped she was up to another quick visit before I had to head home.
“Entirely too old to be feeling like this.” Wasn’t that the truth. Her voice was soft and a little raspy but infused with lighthearted humor. “If I drag myself out of bed and you don’t feed me crispy bacon, I’m never speaking to you again.” Yeah, like that was an option. “I’ll be there in an hour, that work?”
“You relax and stay put, bacon and eggs will come to you. Extra bacon, scout’s honor.”
“No, no.” She wasn’t whispering anymore. “It’s fine. I told you, my office is close to your hotel, and they have a great restaurant. I’ll just meet you there.” If I hadn’t dropped her off last night, I would have thought she was hiding where she lived. But that made no sense. Even in the pitch dark, I could tell she had a beautiful home.
“Whatever you want, Tal.” I meant it.
An hour and a half later, my head pain was down to a dull throb. But the ache in my pants only intensified when Tal strolled into the hotel lobby sporting dark grey yoga pants that made her legs look even longer and an off the shoulder long sleeve shirt with her black racerback sports bra showing. No crazy purse or bag, just keys attached to one of those small wallets dangling from her hand and a pair of oversized sunglasses that barely hid her bloodshot eyes. She left Dr. Pryce at home, while TP showed for breakfast. She was as low maintenance as I remembered back in the day, just ten times as beautiful.
I wrapped my arms around her, confident that a dozen or so drinks dissolved any awkwardness left between us. She folded in without hesitation. I inhaled the scent radiating from her damp hair, that smell was going to be the death of me. We were frozen like that for a few seconds before the humor of the moment hit us both. Long-lost friends, with a shitload of history and drama and a reunion resulting in killer hangovers. Her slim arms tightened against my back and vibrated from her laughter. What a sweet sound.
I kissed the crown of her head, then she headbanded her long blonde hair with her sunglasses. I loved when women did that.
“Come, let’s feed you some bacon.” I pinched her chin.
She squished her tiny little nose and said, “Think I might need hash browns, too.” She was so pathetically adorable I was ready to fry the potatoes myself.
A carafe of high test, two bacon, egg and cheese sandwiches, and a serious order of hash browns later, we felt human again. Talia even had color back in her cheeks.
Shaking her head, Talia chuckled to herself. “I haven’t felt like this or eaten like this since we were eighteen.”
Something about the way she said it, with a hint of sadness, I believed her. Granted I agreed that we were a little too old for the hangover half of the party, but we were only thirty-seven. And hell, after staring at her makeup-free face through breakfast she looked a good ten years younger than that. Made me wonder.
“Tal, don’t take this the wrong way, but I have to ask you something.”
“Shoot.”
“How is there not a ring on your finger?”
Her eyebrows wrinkled in confusion as she tucked a stray hair behind her ear, avoiding eye contact. “What?”
“You heard me. You’re drop dead gorgeous, with a body that should be legally banned from wearing yoga pants in front of men, all men, of every age because it’s just cruel. You’re a doctor for god’s sake, and hands down the coolest female I have ever had the privilege of knowing. And I know A LOT of women. So forgive me, but something’s not adding up. Women like you aren’t just waiting for Mr. Right to come along. Women like you have assholes like me lin
ing up and selling their souls for a shot at being Mr. Right.”
“Umm … I don’t know what to say.” She looked dumbstruck, as if the thought had never crossed her mind. For fucking real? “That’s really how you see … me?”
“You have a mirror? You’ve looked in it lately? Yeah, Tal, that’s exactly what I see. And I’d bet my last dollar that every guy in this room thinks I’m a lucky fuck, just for sitting this close to you. So do me a favor, and please tell me that your naked finger has nothing to do with that schlepp I saw you with at the bar.” Screw it, it had to be said. It was the truth.
She nailed me with those caramel eyes, like she was considering her answer carefully. Then she reached her hand across the table to cover mine. “God, you have no idea how much I missed you.” Her voice cracking surprised me, but not as much as the tears that glistened behind her lids. Five star restaurant or not, I pulled her to her feet and lifted her up into a hug. Good or bad, it was a place that was becoming very comfortable.
I needed confirmation for my own peace of mind, so I whispered, “You’re saying the douche is a non-issue then.”
Her not-so-quiet sniffled laughter was answer enough. “Paul? Nah. He’s a colleague I’ve dated off and on, nothing serious. And yes, he’s a bit douchey, but no, he’s not the reason I’ve never been married.”
God help the “reason” if I ever meet him.
Dropping her back down, and enjoying her body slide against mine way too much, I broke our embrace to see my gorgeous friend smiling up at me. Friend. I needed to check my dick for two minutes and start acting like that friend. “So you going to fess up and tell me what the hell Pryce is about, because last time I checked, doctors didn’t need pen names?”
Tears gone, smile wide and shoulders high, she gently tapped my cheek. “I don’t remember you being this pushy. Are you this protective of all your friends?” There was that word again.
“The ones that matter.” Like you. She wasn’t just a friend; she was a best friend.
“Remember when we were kids and things didn’t go our way, especially you and Kimi, we’d call do-over, like the words held some sort of magic or something?” She bit her lip, smiling. No doubt, remembering. “Let’s just say, Pryce was my do-over.”
Yeah, I wasn’t feeling that answer either, but her gorgeous eyes were sweetly asking me to leave it. Anything for you. I left it. For now.
We were still standing pretty close to each other when I heard the familiar buzz. “Um, Teeps, your tit’s vibrating.” Well, it was.
She pulled her iPhone out of her sports bra, took a two second glance, and shoved the damn thing back in. Lucky fucking phone. Ignoring whoever sent the message, she said, “I know—I know it’s a bad idea, breast cancer and all that, but my pants have no pockets.”
“Another reason they should be banned,” I said through a chuckle, even though I was stuck on whoever just sent that text.
“Hey, they’re super comfy, and I could be mistaken, but I’m pretty sure you said in not-so-many words that they were sexy as shit and men in general would be drooling over any female wearing them.”
Damn, was she cute when she was sassy.
“No. I said you wearing them was cruel. Trust me, the male species deserves any and all punishment. And I’m definitely not feeling exempt.”
She tried to play it off with a you’re-so-immature eye roll, but I didn’t miss her blush before she followed it up with a stolen gaze south. I couldn’t hide it if I tried. Feel free to ask my dick yourself. Any other woman I would have said it out loud, and meant it. But Talia wasn’t any other woman. Never was and never will be.
“On that note, funny man, I really have to head out. Someone’s got to work today. I’ve got to get home and dressed before my office hours. Clothes with pockets, promise.” She paused, chewing on her bottom lip. “But I’m really glad we did this. Whatever this is.”
“It’s whatever you want it to be.” No filter, the words just tumbled out. I said it, but did I mean it? This was something I’d never done. Did I even know how to do this?
Our eyes locked and I had no intention of breaking our moment anytime soon.
“Can it just be this, for now? Just us getting to know each other again. Friends.”
All I heard was for now.
For now worked. For now sounded like the perfect place to start. I wasn’t sure if I would be able to offer much more. All I knew was she was back, our friendship rekindled, and I wanted her there.
“Anything you need, friend.” Because I meant it. She had weaved herself back into my inner circle, the circle I would walk over water for and give the shirt off my back to, the circle I now think she never left. I closed the space between us and tucked her back between my arms. She fit. Perfectly. “But just letting you know—you try and disappear again, I’ll find you.”
“Oh, I have no doubt.”
I kissed the top of her head, because that’s what friends do. Friends were what we needed to be. And I was going to be the best damn friend she could ever have. Then I squeezed her tight little frame harder and inhaled her smell again. Just because.
Three hours later my ass was back on a plane.
Thank fuck it was over. Longest hour and a half of my life. Monday morning hospital board meetings sucked. Don’t get me wrong, I loved supporting the hospital in any way I could, I owed them. But nothing was worse than sitting around listening to crotchety old men bitch about policies and procedures and ways to save the hospital money at six fucking AM.
Hitting the trails
Thought of you :)
Girl after my own heart. If it weren’t freezing out, I would’ve been on my mountain bike too. That, and I didn’t want to miss out on a chance to ride behind my friend’s ass. Someone needed to appreciate it, might as well be me.
“Whatcha smiling about, asshole?”
I raised my eyes from my screen to a fast approaching Chase. I shoved my phone in my suit pocket. My Cali excursion was last week and I hadn’t exactly shared yet. And there it was again. Guilt.
Chase and Tal had a history that stemmed back to the night of his sister’s accident. And it wasn’t until three years after Kimi died, that I learned the whole story. For some insanely stupid reason, Kim was crushing on a total loser. Chase, being the overprotective twin brother, was pissed about it. I wasn’t too thrilled either. That night they drank a little too much, fought, and Kimi threw a bitchy I’ll show you storm-off that ultimately put her in the passenger seat of a death trap. Chase retaliated with sleeping with her best friend. Our best friend. Talia. Yeah, that part of the story I knew. Witnessed that shit go down with my own eyes. Stung like a bitch, too. But it didn’t end there.
Six years after the fact and a six pack in, Chase and I were shooting pool when I mentioned that I’d heard—through our loosely woven grapevine—that Tal’s dad passed away. He winced at the mention of her name, like he always did. Enough was enough. It had been six long years and we all lost Kimi that night, we all let her down. Hell, I saw Chase and Talia disappear upstairs together and I wallowed in my own private bong hit pity-party, too self-absorbed to consider watching out for Kim either. Yeah, guilt sucked. But Chase didn’t have a monopoly on it. So I let my alcohol-induced loud mouth ask what I was probably better off not knowing. Sick and tired of pretending Talia didn’t exist—even if that was more true than not—I called him out on it. His answer sucked-ass, but that was just how it was with us. Any one of us asked each other a question, we gave the truth. End of. Don’t want to know, don’t ask.
Turned out Talia got pregnant. And when she told Chase, who was barely holding his shit together at the time, he tossed her a few hundred bucks and told her to get rid of it. Not my best friend’s finest hour, far from, and one I knew he regretted to this day. But he still did it.
Talia never said a word to me about any of it. The note she left with my doorman the day she took off read:
I’m so sorry. It just doesn’t feel right without Kimi.
Live the dream for all of us. xo, TP She never looked back. Not once. Not even for her girl’s funeral.
“C. What’s up? Looking good. Three weeks off improved your complexion.” Damn now I was saying shit like her, too. Who the hell used the word complexion in a sentence if dermatologist or female wasn’t somehow associated with your name?
His brow creased. “Thanks. I think. Why are you here, everything okay?” I hated hospitals, and he knew it.
“Fine. Just finished a long ass board meeting is all. You have a case?”
“I do, but had to push it back a couple of hours. Shit came up.”
“Okay, what’s up with this new fucking line…?”
“Typical. Always pining for gossip.”
He turned and attempted to stalk away in typical Chase fashion before I cut in with, “You don’t want to talk, that’s fine. But quit blowing me off and leaving me to wonder what the hell is going on. We’re hitting the bags tonight, right? Or are you bailing again with that shit too?”
He stopped mid-stride and glanced down at his watch. “I’ve got ten minutes. You have to be anywhere or can you come to my office? I’m sure as hell not talking about this shit in the hallway.”
“Sure, I have time.” Extracting information from Chase was like pulling teeth. So if he needed to spill something that sounded important, it didn’t matter where or what I was supposed to be doing, I had nowhere else to be.
Beautifully Done Page 5
