Who Needs Air

by Cassie Graham

  Jennings agrees and pulls Whitley toward the exit.

  Skirting his hand down my arm, August clasps our hands together. “Want to leave your car here?”

  My mouth turns to the side. “Nah.”

  I let go of his hand, making my way toward the parking lot. I hear him chuckle behind me and I force myself not to look at him.

  “Where are you going, Belle?”

  I bite my lip and pull out my own keys from the pocket of my jeans, dangling them on my finger. “Wanna race?”

  August cracks up but then kicks it into high gear, running past me, digging for his keys. I watch, stunned when he whooshes by and then I hightail it out of there like a bat outta hell.

  Hopefully he forgot about the shortcut.

  He definitely didn’t forget, and his old, beat-up truck got to the apartment before I did. I’m not upset, though. Watching him do a little dance in the parking lot was more than worth the loss.

  I laugh to myself as I dump the noodles in the colander in the sink.

  “Y’all,” August says from the table, sitting in front of his computer. He shoves his glasses up to his forehead, away from his eyes, and rubs the top of his nose.

  Jennings and Whitley are lounging on the couch, watching TV and stop to turn toward him.

  “What’s another word for dick?” His eyebrows crinkle and he pushes his glasses back down. He doesn’t look up from his computer and he chews on his top lip. “You know, something that doesn’t sound absurd.”

  I sputter, dropping the colander, the hot water from the noodles splashing into the air. I genuinely didn’t expect that question. Somewhere Only We Know is more of a fade-to-black kind of book – probably because it was written for a younger audience. It seems like this new book is a bit more mature, which thrills my imagination to no-end. August writing sexy scenes? I don’t think it gets much better than that. He’s been planning and plotting for almost two weeks now, and I don’t think I’ve seen him this enthusiastic…maybe ever.

  Whitley doesn’t miss a beat, her eyes twinkling with eagerness. “Weiner.”

  August grumbles and I cackle.

  “Tallywacker,” Jennings offers and he and Whitley fall over in laughter. Whitley fans her face, crimson covering her skin.

  August pulls his eyes away from the computer screen, the tapping on his laptop quieting. He smiles, looking to me with raised eyebrows, waiting for me to offer some input.

  I lean my hip against the counter, clearing my throat. “Mommy salami?”

  August snorts, his snicker uncontrollable, and plucks at his shirt, cooling himself down.

  Jennings holds his sides and Whitley falls over. They both have tears coming out of their eyes.

  “Pork sword!” Whitley yells.

  “Kibbles and bits!” Jennings jokes, slapping his knee.

  I’m bellowing over in laughter when one comes to mind. “Hot dog and chili!”

  Whitley claps her hands. “Disco stick.”

  “Schlong,” Jennings says and Whitley turns to him, giving him a high-five.

  “Dammit, Whitley,” I say through my fit of giggles, “I’ll never get that Lady Gaga song out of my head now, whore.”

  Something sails through the air, clipping my hair as it passes my head. I look to Whitley with accusatory eyes and she leans back, giggling under her hand.

  She kisses the air and then suddenly becomes serious, the wheels in her head turning.

  “Seriously, guys,” August declares, pushing up the sleeves of his shirt. “I need a better word to use.”

  Jennings opens his mouth and Whitley’s eyes light up.

  August stops them. “And no, not twig and berries. Not meat and two veg. Or stick shift. I can’t use snot rocket or schnitzel.” He offers a bemused smile.

  My fit of giggles has turned into full-blown laughter now, and I gasp for air. “Oh my God. Snot rocket makes me want to dry heave.”

  Whitley mocks me, fake-throwing up from the couch and I point in her direction, nodding.

  August shrugs both shoulders, a knowing grin settling on his face. He’s clearly proud of himself – all puffed chest and protruded chin.

  He winks and I have to keep myself upright, holding onto the counter for support.

  Jennings trills his lips and he shakes his head. “Okay, let’s be serious.”

  I move from the counter to the stove, pouring tomato sauce into a pan. I reach for the parsley in the cabinet above my head and say, “Length?”

  August’s mouth turns down, thinking.

  “Cock?” Jennings suggests.

  August’s eyes narrow and he types something on his keyboard.

  There’s a long silence as we all think.

  “Pee pee!” Whitley squeals out of nowhere and we all fall over, hooting.

  My laughter turns into soundless gasps and August rests his head down on the table, his shoulders bouncing.

  After long moments, August laments through his amusement and wipes under his eyes. “Dammit, Whitley.”

  “These boxes aren’t going to fit in your truck, August,” I say out of breath as I heave another box down to the parking lot from my apartment.

  August stands back, crossing his arms over his chest, assessing our work. “We can do another layer and strap it down, but that’ll still leave a few boxes.”

  The moving truck has already been here and left. We were supposed to be right behind them but we had a few extra boxes and swore we could fit it in August’s truck. That’s not looking like the case anymore. Tetris was never my strong suit.

  I pull out my phone and dial Mama, smiling when she answers. “Hi, Mama.”

  “Did ya make it to New York yet? I’m already missing you like crazy.”

  I laugh. It’ll take us almost fourteen hours to drive there. August and I decided we were going to take our time, stopping in random cities along the way. This would be the last time before I started my new job to have some fun. Even if we left early this morning, there’s not a chance in hell we’d be there by tonight. “I miss you too, but we’re not even close. We haven’t left yet. I was hoping you’d do me a favor.”

  “Oh? What do you need, darlin’?

  “Some of my boxes won’t fit into August’s truck. Do you think maybe you could come get them from my apartment in the next week or so and ship them to me? I’ll leave you some money on the counter.”

  I hear her sniffle on the other end of the line and I know she’s having a hard time with me leaving. I think she thought I’d stay in Bradshaw forever, and before August, that was the plan, but love changes things. Life isn’t guaranteed so I have to grab onto every bit of happiness I can get.

  “Of course I can do that for you.”

  My nose twitches and I feel the tears prickle the back of my eyes. “Thank you so much, Mama. You’re coming to visit us next month, right?”

  I bought her a plane ticket the day I told her I was moving. It cushioned the blow a little bit.

  “You couldn’t keep me away,” she says and I know she’s smiling. “You be safe. Tell August I love him and call me when you get in.”

  “I will, Mama. I love you.” My chin quivers and a hot tear falls down my cheek.

  August sets another box in the bed of his truck and then kisses the side of my head. The wind kicks up, whipping around us. He wraps his arms around my middle and I lean my head against his chest.

  “I love you too, baby girl.”

  I gulp and end the call.

  My sadness settles into my stomach but August pulls back and looks into my eyes. “You sure about this?”

  I nod because I know I can’t do this without him. Although I’m going to miss my life here, there’s a new adventure waiting for us.

  After they finished filming the movie a week ago, August had to head back to New York and it was honestly a horrible feeling. I know everyone says that, and I also know there are far worse instances of separation than mine. My sadness is miniscule compared to most, but my want – ne
ed – to be with him consumes me. Maybe it was because I lost him before and the feeling of his loss is still so fresh in my mind, it automatically reverts to its natural state.

  Love is the equalizer among every person on this earth. Our ability. Love puts us all in a level playing field. It forces us to embrace the terrifying possibility of getting hurt. Love and hurt know no race, no gender, no religion.

  “I’m one hundred percent sure, August.”

  Lacing our fingers together, August leads me back up to my apartment one last time. With each step, my body becomes dense.

  I push open the door and we amble inside. I set my hand down on the counter and take in the undecorated space.

  My couch no longer sits against the wall and the bookshelves are empty. My family pictures and paintings no longer hang on the walls. My coffee table and bed are sailing down the freeway in a moving truck and my television is in the bed of August’s truck. The refrigerator is empty and the cabinets aren’t full of food.

  Another tear falls from my eye and I pull out money from my back pocket, patting it when I sit it on the counter.

  I stand back, shoving my hands in the pockets of my jeans.

  August teeters on his feet, giving me a weak smile. I think he might be a little sad, too. He moves to me in a couple steps and drops his forehead against my temple. “Ready?”

  I turn to him and wipe the moisture from my face. “I am.”

  Giving my apartment one last glance, I open the door and lock it behind me.

  Wrapping his arm around my shoulder, August takes me to his truck, closing the door for me once I’m inside.

  When we’re cruising down the road, windows open, my hair flailing around my face, I open my copy of Somewhere Only We Know, and August settles his hand on my thigh, a bright smile on his face.

  Mile by mile, together, August and I write our new happily ever after.

  Slap My Mama

  Lily: Dear best friend, it’s been exactly seventeen days, twelve hours and forty-two minutes since you’ve left and I miss you. And yes, I sat down and figured out how long it’s been since you’ve been gone. Don’t judge me.

  I chuckle and swipe my phone open, sitting down at my desk at the museum. I’ve been here a week now and I absolutely love it. It’s a much different job than I had in Georgia – though I have the same job title. I’m busy all day long and hardly have a few extra seconds to breathe, let alone time to talk, but Lily is worth it.

  Me: I miss you, too. Anything new?

  Lily: You and August are still top news around here. It’s just so fascinating that the hometown boy and girl move to the big city. *snorts*

  Me: Greatttt.

  Lily: It’s not that bad. Honestly, it’s been a nice break from the drama going on with Marshall.

  Me: Mama told me he got a DUI and then got thrown in jail.

  My old boss is always the talk of the town. For being an old man, he’s sure sewing his wild oats.

  Lily: Yeah. Crazy old man.

  “Hey,” my co-worker, Halle, pops her head in my office. Her chocolate hair falls over her shoulder and she pushes it back. “Want to do lunch?”

  I look down at my phone, reminiscent of how Lily and I would eat lunch together every day.

  “Yeah,” I say. “Give me like…two minutes?” I need to call Joseph, who we hired on as full-time security for me, and let him know I’m heading out.

  Even though we left Georgia, the relentlessness of the paparazzi never ceased. If anything, their demand to know more about us intensified.

  So, being single and ready to go wherever the job took him, Joseph was more than happy to move here with us.

  August rented an apartment for him right next to our building and by the look on his face when he saw it, you’d think we gave him a million dollars. We filled it with essentials like a couch, a TV, a bed, some stuff for the kitchen and towels. It came mostly furnished so we were happy to help even if it was a little bit. Plus, he wasn’t leaving anything back home in Georgia – which made the transition easier for him.

  I hit his name in my cell phone and he answers on the first ring. “Hey.”

  “Hey, Joseph. I’m hoping to head to lunch in a few. Are you close?”

  Shuffling noises fill the speaker. “I’m across the street at the coffee shop. I’ll be there in two.” He hangs up and I set my phone down.

  Checking the emails on my computer one last time, I exit the program and shut my computer down. Pulling my jacket off the hook on the backside of my door, I slide it onto my arms and walk into Halle’s office.

  “Ready?” I ask, my glasses sliding down my nose.

  “Yep.” She smiles, grabbing her maroon coat.

  We wave to a few of the appraisers and curators as we make our way through the office. They smile and get back to their own job immediately – all overwhelmed with work like me.

  I open the door to find Joseph leaning against the wall, all bulk and brawn, his foot propped up. His light white shirt is such a contrast to his ebony skin. Much like his brother, Harold, he’s handsome and he knows it. “Hey, Cam,” he greets, blushing when his eyes move to Halle.

  Halle’s smooth olive skin and light brown eyes make her beyond gorgeous. She’s taller than me and has hips for days. I’m envious of her figure, and if she weren’t so incredibly sweet, I’d probably shy away from her. She’s intimidating, strong and smart – everything I hope to exude but am never sure of, because who can really tell that sort of thing about themselves?

  I can tell why Joseph is into her, though. He’s a smart man and has great taste.

  “Hiya, Joe,” she replies. “Having a good day?”

  Joseph straightens up, standing taller and walks beside me as we weave through the throng of New Yorkers down the busy street.

  He clears his throat. “I’m great.” His voice is slightly wispy and I have to hide my smile behind my hand.

  It’s so funny to watch the two of them. They obviously have chemistry. It practically sparks off in different directions any time they’re within the vicinity of each other.

  Joseph has been with me since my first day at the museum and even though it was a mere seven days ago, he flushes every time he sees Halle. It’s sort of cute. I love when big, burly men act all blissed out on a woman. It sort of brings them back down to earth. Levels them out.

  We make our way to a local deli and, like the great guard he is, Joseph sits with us as we talk about paintings and art. He doesn’t eat. He doesn’t make eye contract with anyone in particular. He stares straight-ahead, looking menacing and protective.

  There’s this unspoken agreement in New York – paps keep their distance if we’re inside. I’m thankful for the rule because by the end of our meal, at least four outlets have found us. If they had been brazen enough to come inside, it would have ruined the lunch and I’d hate to do that to Halle.

  They shout at us the moment we step outside. “Campbell! Can you tell us when the movie will be released?”

  “Cam! Are you and August engaged?”

  “Ms. Potter! Are you worried Tomi will steal August away from you?”

  I’m thankful for a sunny day today because I roll my eyes behind my sunglasses. They’d have a field day if they saw it. I don’t know why, but it irks me to think that Andy might have planted that story. It seems like something she’d do.

  Joseph sweeps his arm out in front of us, his other hand on my back as he effortlessly guides us back to the museum.

  Halle keeps quiet the entire time, making me wonder if I should stop going out in public with anyone who isn’t a part of this sort of scene. I know it can get annoying and they can be overbearing.

  She puts my worry to rest when we enter the main entrance of the museum. “They’re a bunch a crazy people, but that was kind of fun!”

  I laugh and shake my head. At least she finds it comical.

  I wave as I head back to my office. “Thanks for going out with me.”

  She winks and sl
ides her eyes to Joseph standing outside my office door. “Lunch tomorrow?”

  I crack a smile. “You got it.”

  So unlike my apartment back in Georgia, the front door to the townhouse is right off the street. The grand staircase outside leads right up to August’s and my door. It’s the most beautiful townhouse I’ve ever seen. I know there are more lavish and stunning homes to be seen, but August’s little piece of the world holds a special place for me.

  “Have a good night, Joseph,” I say as I lift my hand to give him a high-five, our nightly ritual.

  He slaps my hand and smiles, tucking his hand in the pockets of his jacket before stepping into the street toward his apartment building.

  He gets to the entrance of his apartment complex and turns, waving for me to walk to the door. I laugh and turn for the stairs. Ever the suspicious defender.

  I skirt my eyes up the building, the wind whipping my hair and I happy-sigh. Because August is August and loves exposed brick, the entire outside is covered in the bright red material. The curved staircase is a matted black with intricate ironwork. My hand glides along the smooth surface. The pots of blinding green plants and brightly colored flowers outside provide the perfect contrast. The trees are beginning to turn light yellow and orange and I have to stop myself from taking yet another picture to post on my social media.

  It’s just past seven in the evening and I’m late. Today was supposed to be my early day, but instead, I had to appraise four extra pieces and didn’t get out until twenty minutes ago. Not that August would be upset, he’s been locked away all day in his office writing.

  I smile and bend down to touch one of the pink flowers in the mauve colored pot. Straightening my back, I fish my keys out of my purse and insert one into the door. They jangle, alerting my presence.

  August’s dog, Claude, runs to me the moment I step inside the door, jumping up against my leg. I bend down and scratch behind his white and brown ears, cooing. “Hi buddy. How was your day?” His tail wags at a relentless speed and spins in a circle – he loves to be talked to. He jumps down from my legs and bends down, his butt in the air while he playfully growls.