by Fiona Keane
“Hey, hot stuff.” Lizzie winked at Sean. “Come over here.”
“Stop,” I snapped, not out of embarrassment for me, but for her own sake.
Sean ran both hands through his hair, squeezing it above his ears while he exhaled. “That woman…” He shivered. “What are you two lovely ladies up to over here?”
“Our buzz is over,” I pouted. He tipped his head to the side, mocking the frown on my face.
“When do you leave for Miami?” Lizzie inquired. “Because that’s just what the world needs, Sean, more swoon-worthy tan guys who aren’t single.”
“Lizzie!” I blushed at her forwardness, but absolutely agreeing with her. I shook the enticing image of Sean on a beach from my mind, forcing back my smile.
“Well, Elizabeth,” his tone seemed humorously challenging, “believe it or not, I’m not the hottest guy out there.”
“Oh my…are we really having this conversation?” I mumbled, glancing around for Ella and Jesse, willing them to come back to us.
“You know, Sean,” Lizzie’s voice lingered on the final sound of his name, as if mocking his use of her full name, “you’re one walking weapon.” She poked her index finger into his hard chest.
“Maybe.” He flashed her a grin, raising his eyebrows in flirtatious agreement and clutching the fist she held at his chest. Bastard.
I put my left hand on Sean’s shoulder and my right on Lizzie’s, distracting them. “Goodnight.”
“You’re leaving?” He seemed surprised, and I didn’t know how to handle that.
“She’s leaving me here with this,” Lizzie pretended to eye Sean with disgust, “walking advertisement for hotness.”
“Yes.” I smiled. “I’m leaving you with the walking advertisement. And you,” I looked at Sean, “with her. Good luck.”
I pulled on some of Lizzie’s blonde curls before I departed, winding down the ramp and to the main walkway toward my street. I felt the tug on my arm while I waited at the pedestrian crossing on Doty Street, and I almost spun into one of the self-defense stances Lizzie, Ella, and I learned at the persistence of Jesse. It was just Sean. Oh, it was just Sean. His eyes seemed strained, filled with a curious sense of alarm…whatever it was, it was beautiful.
“You shouldn’t walk home alone, Ave.”
“I’m fine,” I assured him, but he didn’t believe me. I wasn’t going to win this argument.
“Let me walk you home.” He put his left arm around my shoulders. “It’s just two more blocks. If you get attacked, I’ll defend. If you don’t get attacked, then I’ll know I protected you.”
“You dork.” I blushed, thankful he couldn’t see in the sparse streetlight. “Thanks for thinking of me.”
“I’m always thinking of you, Avery.” Melt. How can he say things to me like that and not expect me to take it as more than just friendly concern?
As we waited for a city bus to yield in our favor, Sean changed the subject. “Do you think I’m swoon-worthy?”
“Uh…what?”
“What Lizzie said back there, about me being swoon-worthy.”
“Oh. Right. The walking advertisement for hotness.” I chuckled and crossed the street. “I’m surprised you need a second opinion.”
“So you don’t think so.” He clutched his chest and pouted. “Burn.”
My only response was the girlish giggle erupting from my lips. What was I supposed to say to that? Oh, yes. And please come upstairs. I don’t think so. I valued our friendship too much to even inch close to that path; that’s why I tortured myself with silence. There was a crowd of people gathering outside of the bar at our next intersection, forcing us to linger in an uncomfortable silence for a moment as the people cleared away. I glanced at Sean from the corner of my eye.
“What?”
“Nothing.” I grinned. He was swoon-worthy.
Once the crowd dispersed, we continued down the final block toward my apartment. We both glanced up at my corner unit. I left my lights on, as I always did when I planned on returning at night. Sorry, planet. I climbed the steps to the main door, searching my small pink purse for keys. Sean slowly strode to mount the final step with me. His hands wove around the railing behind him as he balanced against it, his knuckles protruding through his skin while he tightened his grip. Oh my god. This guy is killing me.
“Do you want to come up for some coffee or something?”
“I shouldn’t.” Sean’s perfect face parted into a familiar smirk. My skin tingled. Surely it was just the champagne and muggy night, nothing more. It felt warm, too warm, like we were passing some foreign energy between each other. It was different, vulnerable. I shivered, and he beamed. This needs to stop. I reached out to wrap my arms around Sean as a farewell, his back flexing under my fingers. His hold tightened around me, securing our embrace as his head rested on my shoulder. I felt my hair move as Sean inhaled deeply against my neck. Oh, no. This needs to stop right now.
“Thanks for walking me home, Sean.” I tried to keep myself composed. “You better make sure you get home before Jesse’s stepmom gets there.”
“Gross.” His laughter eased my nerves, and his head lifted. “See you later, Avery. Hey, Ave?”
I turned from the main door to my building and studied his face in response, his emerald eyes glowing with an unfamiliar emptiness. I hadn’t imagined the vulnerability before. Something changed. I placed my right hand on his rough cheek when he wasn’t responding.
“What is it?”
He shook his head with eyes closed. “Never mind.” Sean stepped backward down the three cement steps and paused on the sidewalk. “Goodnight, Avery.”
I opened the exterior door and glimpsed over my shoulder to his absence. What the heck was that? I ascended the stairs to my apartment and found immediate comfort in the small air-conditioned room I called home. My purse and keys were tossed on the turquoise shelf. I peeled off my dress, dropping it in the laundry basket outside of my closet, and pulled a t-shirt over me. I fell onto my bed, but my mind was restless. After a few minutes of trying to distract myself and drift off unsuccessfully, I hopped across the room for my phone. I typed a message to Sean, his peculiar companionship still on my mind.
Me: Thanks for the chaperoned walk home. I feel much safer now.
I set my phone on the windowsill next to my bed and snuggled beneath the duvet. I blindly reached my arm over my pillows for the buzzing phone moments later.
Sean: My pleasure. Lock your door. Weirdoes everywhere.
Me: You’re the weirdo, Sean.
Sean: ;)
Me: When do you leave for Miami?
Sean: Sunday. Coffee before then?
Me: Sure. Jesse’s going to miss you.
I waited. No reply. I set my phone back on its bed for the evening and drifted off. I was going to miss him too. No witty and dangerously flirty banter, no butterflies, no inappropriate feelings for one of my best friends, no Sean. What was I going to do for the next few weeks?
Chapter Four
I opted for decaf, it being Thursday afternoon and not wanting my heart to explode. Our chairs were crammed around the intricate iron table on the rooftop patio of Retrovaille. The Parisian-inspired café cost a fortune for food in the evening but offered an appropriately priced menu during select daytime hours. Music poured from the speakers placed in flowerpots overflowing with early autumn mums and dying summer greenery. Jesse’s thick brown hair was tousled, waving over his forehead in a disheveled mess.
“Dude,” Sean taunted, “when is the last time you slept?”
“If you spent any time at home, you would know I sleep just fine,” Jesse quipped. I silently watched their argument play out, captivated with the entertainment.
“You’re the one who is never there, what with your wife and all.”
“Girls,” I scolded them, “enough. You’re ruining my afternoon with your old passive-aggressive married couple arguing. Jesse, take a nap and comb your hair. Sean, please spend time at home with J
esse.” I shuddered to think of where his head rested at night instead of the sparsely decorated room in their apartment.
“Speaking of which,” Sean coughed, “I can’t handle Kelly much longer. She’s just…I mean…”
“Is she too much for you, Sean? You are quite a bit older than her. Maybe it’s your age that is proving a challenge when keeping up with her,” Jesse joked, almost forcing the decaf latte from my nostrils.
“I don’t need to know this,” I grumbled, tightly closing my eyes. Sometimes being best friends with those two for so long meant they forgot I didn’t want to know every detail.
“It’s not that,” Sean snorted, continuing. “I don’t know.” I anxiously bit my lip while waiting for Sean to complete his thought, quickly realizing I didn’t want to know more.
“So,” I shifted my crossed legs, “enough about Sean’s inabilities to perform and the unknown reason for intolerance of Kelly. Details about Miami, please.”
His perfect mouth failed to fight with the amused smile plastered upon it. I could have led the campaign for intolerance toward Kelly, but I decided to be the bigger person and let it go. Let it go out loud, that is, because I couldn’t stop my subconscious from thinking she was a jezebel.
While we sipped away, Sean described his plan to stay with his brother near the beach and spend a few weeks doing nothing. Once their exchange turned into a detailed discussion of Kelly’s swimming suit or the objectification of women Sean may encounter on the beach, I excused myself. I scaled the iron steps of the repurposed fire escape and into the more exclusive restaurant, heading toward the bathroom.
I felt slightly out of place inside the white marble restroom, the entirety of which could contain my apartment. It smelled heavenly and like money with wafts of musky spice and vanilla spreading into mouthwatering clouds above multiple reed diffusers. I wished my apartment smelled less like the dumpsters beneath it and an ounce like this restroom. Out of habit, I reached for my bag but was disappointed, and also nervous, to realize I left it outside with the boys. I felt naked without the small bag that held my life. The cotton towels I used after washing my hands even smelled like aromatic, fresh laundry. I could have lived in that bathroom, but my daydream of a marble castle was cut short by the entrance of three other women. I politely smiled and returned to Sean and Jesse, hoping Kelly was no longer our topic of dialogue.
“Did you solve the world’s problems?” I inquired, taking my seat back from the possession of Sean’s left foot. He handed my phone to me, a playful smile spread across his lips.
“Lizzie wants you to text Declan. Before your coffee buzz wears off completely.”
“Lizard,” Jesse grumbled, scratching his head.
“What about her?” Sean asked, still smiling. I ran through my text messages, slightly irritated that Sean answered my phone in my absence. The wind picked up, a cooler breeze catching my hair. Next time, no lip-gloss. As I picked sticky hair from my shiny lips, I wrote a message to Lizzie.
Me: What do you want?
Lizzie: I’m glad Sean and Jesse are earning their keep as your secretaries.
Me: Hardly. What’s up?
Lizzie: You neeeeed to text Declan. He’s been asking me about you. You’re more popular over here than me.
Me: Are you jealous, Elizabeth?
Lizzie: Love you, Ave. Call me later.
As I placed my phone back in the privacy of my purse, I paid closer attention to Jesse and Sean’s conversation.
“I promised her I’d come over tonight to help build some…some furniture or something. I forgot, Sean,” Jesse whined, his thumb twirling the ring around his index finger.
“What does Sean care?” I asked, sipping the final delicious drops of my coffee.
Sean scratched the stubble along his jaw and coyly shook his head at me. “Sean cares,” he began, “because Jesse promised Sean beer tonight.”
“Guess you’ll have to call your girlfriend,” I challenged him. Yikes, Avery, slow down. Jesse started to laugh but hid behind the distraction of readjusting his suspenders. Sean’s expression melted from relaxed dallying to sobering.
“Why don’t you just come with me, Sean? It will go by faster that way,” Jesse suggested, interrupting Sean’s heated glare in my direction. What was he thinking? Why was I being visually punished for reminding him he had a girlfriend? Weren’t we just discussing her swimsuit anyway?
“Ella and this one will probably be there,” Jesse continued, squeezing my wrist.
“I’ll be there,” Sean cautioned. So…I shouldn’t try something? What was that supposed to mean?
“You’re buzzing,” Jesse told me, and I looked at him, confused. “In your bag.” I pulled my phone out, pursing my lips as I thought about the unknown incoming number.
“Maybe it’s your boyfriend,” Sean mocked me, licking his lips. I hate you, Sean. I narrowed my eyes at him, stuck my tongue out like a toddler, and answered my phone. Jesse and Sean watched me, mumbling to each other. I tried to ignore Sean mindlessly chewing the end of his sunglasses as they spoke. Ugh!
“Hello? This is. Wow! Really? Thank you, thank you. Yes, Monday. That’s great. Thank you. Me too. Have a lovely weekend!”
“Big date?” Jesse teased, taking his brown leather wallet from his back pocket to settle the tab. I tapped my phone against my lips, thinking briefly about the phone call. Sean slid his coffee cup to the middle of the table, and the sound distracted me.
“I just got a job.” I grinned, my cheeks already in pain as I fought an even larger, more proud smile.
“Then this coffee is on you,” Jesse smiled at me and handed me his bill, “Mrs. Moneybags.”
***
I was fortunate to miss the construction of Lizzie’s new loveseat, along with the bedframe and dresser she manipulated Jesse and Sean into assembling for her. Well, it wasn’t so much that I was preoccupied with another responsibility and missed the party, more so that I chose to skip it and arrive when it was done.
Jesse’s profane language and the expletives he and Sean threw at one another in frustration filled the condo as I snuck inside. Ella’s cackle overpowered their arguing, a clear indication of her limited ability to maturely cope with Jesse and Sean’s vexations. Or maybe it was because Jesse and Sean didn’t know how to work together and assemble four pieces of wood while following instructions. Lizzie buzzed me in but was hovering over the open fridge when I walked into her kitchen. I slapped her bottom as I scooted past her.
“Nice greeting,” she squealed, jumping in surprise. “Do you want watermelon? I just cut some.”
“No. Thank you.” I leaned against her sink. “I would pay you for that pretty yellow bottle of wine, though.” Lizzie took the bottle from the fridge and handed it to me, grinning while she collected two wine glasses.
“They’re ridiculous.” She laughed. “They can’t even follow directions.”
“Probably because they weren’t born with any,” I scoffed. “They sure could use some.”
Lizzie clinked my full glass in agreement. She motioned for me to join her as she walked toward the back of her condo, but I decided to avoid that deathtrap and wandered to her patio. The late summer sunset scattered its comforting glow of pink and rust along the splattering of clouds. My toes wiggled free from my sandals as I took a seat. I could faintly hear Jesse shouting and my girlfriends laughing in response. I loved the season change in Madison. Fall was so welcoming, so crisp and refreshing. I could sit on that patio forever as long as the lingering sunset continued to warm my toes.
I was sitting on the top step, observing the people below quietly wandering in and out of buildings, when footsteps shuffled behind me. Sean slipped through Lizzie’s patio door, joining me with the narrow mouth of his bottle between his left thumb and index finger.
“That’s the beer Jesse promised you?” I teased, smiling as he settled next to me on the peeling wood step. I couldn’t help relaxing against him.
“I guess so,” he gro
aned. “The things you do for your friends.” Don’t I know it?
“Is the couch done?”
“Yep.”
“Then what are you still doing here? Avoiding Kelly?”
Sean snorted at me, laughing while he took a sip of his local microbrew. “What’s your problem with Kelly?”
“Do you have a pen and paper? I can write them down.” I flashed my teeth in the most obnoxious and playful smile I could muster.
“Ouch.”
“You’re such a stud,” I goaded. “Always going after these undergrads, making all the ladies in Madison swoon just because you breathe. Your stupid everything, your big watch, and your senseless face.” I placed my hand on his cheek, rubbing it along his stubble. His free hand grasped mine, securing it to his face before taking another sip from his bottle.
“I miss being single.” He smirked with a laugh. “Then we wouldn’t have to worry about someone thinking too much of us spending time like this.”
“And it’s all fake,” I continued, blushing and desperately trying to avoid his comment, although my fingers started to tremble, “because we all know what a weirdo you are deep down.”
“You’re calling me a liar?”
“Suppose I am?” I continued giggling, dropping my head against Sean’s right shoulder. His right arm wrapped around my shoulder, holding me against him, almost instinctively. He smells too nice. I studied the peeling brown paint on the step where our feet rested, wondering absentmindedly about when Lizzie was going to fix its ugliness. My gaze moved to Sean’s feet, bound by his black flip-flops beneath dark denim folded above his ankles. I blushed, thinking I was spending too much time staring at the crisply folded cuff of his jeans. I could feel Sean’s mouth against the top of my head, hurriedly kissing my hair, breaking my musing. Oh, boy. Stop it. Stop it. Stop it. With his arm now wrapped around my neck, his mouth was at my ear. How do I get off this step? I could hear the faint sound of someone’s footsteps crossing the hall toward the kitchen behind us.
