by LS Anders
Alcohol always seemed to help amplify and float underlying personalities to the surface, so comments that would be normally filtered were flying out uncensored. This put the other girls on more of a level playing field with Callie, now that their filters were temporarily out of commission. Rayna was now more bold and talkative than her usual quiet self, while Evana was rambling out exactly what she was thinking. Of course, Callie's comments were always unfiltered. She had a propensity for saying what she thought before she thought about what she was saying.
“Ok, Evana, I'll trade you this blond hunk of meat for the brunette with the big rounded pecs,” Rayna offered.
“Ugh. I don't know, Rayna. I'm not really into blonds, although he does have a nice package.” Evana pursed her lips, leisurely considering the trade Rayna offered.
Callie was glad to see Rayna enjoying herself and hoped she was right about Rayna’s tougher than nails interior, that the smile she was sporting wasn't a façade to cover up more serious issues. That bomb she had dropped earlier about Brent's extracurricular marital activities was still sinking into her brain, and that monologue had to have been the most words Callie had ever heard her say in one sitting.
She would have never guessed Rayna was anything but gentle and easygoing. She obviously hadn't given her friend enough credit. Rayna was a lot tougher than she led people to believe, dealing with all that by herself and preparing for a divorce that no one knew about. Except for Avie... which was weird.
Anyway, she really hoped that was the case, rather than Rayna suffering alone and afraid to ask for help. But she did look totally relaxed sitting amongst her nest of pillows, arranging her magazines in some kind of order that made no sense to Callie, while she waited patiently for Evana's decision.
How ironic that Rayna was the tough one and Callie was the weaker of the two. Sheesh, she wished she had a modicum of Rayna's strength. She couldn't imagine what it would be like to have to cope with a cheating spouse. To have the one person you shared vows with to love, honor and cherish above all others betray your trust so completely was unfathomable to her. She didn't think she could handle that by herself... not like Rayna was doing.
She had sought professional help long before she had ever met Ryder. She had her own demons in the form of an inner fat girl to battle, so she couldn't place all the blame for her woes on Ryder. Those demons had been born in high school where she was relentlessly teased about her weight. Presently she had them on lock down, the key being her having figured out the right combination of diet and exercise while she was still able to enjoy her favorite foods in moderation.
She had discovered a long time ago that if she came across as being a hardass no one would fuck with her. Most people hadn't figured out that she was actually using her humor like a shield whenever she was feeling depressed and vulnerable, or that the bad-ass armor protecting her insecurities were really made of heavy duty aluminum foil and not actual steel.
Callie always felt she had a little bit of an underlying depression issue, even before Ryder, and even before the teasing in high school—nothing too serious—but she had sought out professional help after moving to NYC.
She supposed all people were inflicted with some kind of sadness. Everyone had good days and bad days where they couldn't shake off that inner black cloud. Then, Ryder had darkened her doorway and created brand spanking new concerns that she wasn't even aware existed before.
Thanks so very much for pointing out what you think are my flaws, dickhead! Callie silently scoffed.
But she was beginning to have more black-cloud days, one rainy day after another. And it seemed a depression had started to take root again, making the gloom increasingly harder to shake off. In fact, she was beginning to feel much the same as she had when she was with Ryder.
Even after all the counseling, there still remained a residual stain from Ryder's interfering in her psyche. It was like when you spilled coffee on white carpet, and it was allowed to seep deep inside the pad beneath. Even though you cleaned it, the stain would gradually resurface and you would have to clean it again and again… and again. Ryder was the coffee stain on her white carpet of life.
Fucking asshole!
Maybe she needed to give Dr. Z a call for more sessions, to have her carpet cleaned again before the stain got any worse. She definitely didn't want to end up back where she was during the Ryder apocalypse. Ryder apocalypse?! Grinning at the name she had just coined, she decided that would be the perfect title for that chapter in her life.
“I’ll throw in the dude with the tight butt. Make it a two-for-one. What do you say?” Rayna was nudging Evana for an answer by trying to sweeten the deal.
“Dayum, E! She is serious about pec man. That's the best trade so far. I'd take that,” Callie commented, trying her best to sound jovial. Her earlier determination to shake off her somber mood and be there for her friends was beginning to wane. It seemed every time she blinked, she would get hit with a different snapshot of her mother's funeral.
“Oh, I still have a few good trades up my sleeve.” Evana wagged her eyebrows. “Ok, Rayna, your blond hunk and tight butt for my pec man.”
“Woohoo!” Rayna celebrated her trade by hugging then kissing the magazine with pec man on the cover after Evana chucked it over.
“What is it about men's abs and those muscles that form the V that points down to the goods?” Callie asked, running her finger down one of the covers she was currently admiring.
Evana’s full lips curled up into an evil grin. “He's your favorite, isn't he, Callie?”
“Yep, and you can just get that look off your face, girlie, because there is nothing you've got in your stack that I want or would even consider trading you.”
“How certain of that are you?” Evana took on a serious tone.
“Very certain! You are absolutely, no way, no how, getting your grubby mitts on this hunk of burning desire.” Callie waved the magazine in Evana's direction, who had been trying to make a trade for Callie's favorite issue all night to no avail.
Rayna fell back on the pillows behind her, laughing so hard no audible sound was making it past her lips.
“Ok. Fine. I guess it's time to get out the big guns!” Evana announced, making a huge production out of revealing an issue she had hidden under the throw pillow she’d been leaning against. “So, I shouldn't even attempt to change your mind with this jaw-dropping gorgeous male specimen?”
Callie did a double take at the only man on the planet that could make her mouth go dry and the back of her knees sweat all at the exact same moment and without him even being in the room. Sheesh, she could only imagine what kind of reaction she would have if she actually met the man in person, face-to-face. She'd probably seize up and pass out.
“You bitch! I can't believe you've been holding out on me.”
“You were the one who said no trade for the ‘hunk of burning desire’,” Evana said, air quoting.
“Well, that's before I knew you were keeping Vehn prisoner under that damn pillow!” Callie tossed back.
“So. Now tell me, Callie. What would you trade for Vehn?” Evana continued to torment her by holding the magazine out towards her, just out of her reach.
“I’ll gladly trade you every damn magazine I have for him!”
“Deal!” Evana said triumphantly.
“Ugh, Callie, you are soooooo weak,” Rayna groaned.
“You can keep that issue for reals, Callie. You too, Rayna. You girls keep any issues you want, except for this one,” she said, setting aside the one Callie had named “the hunk of burning desire”.
“Thanks, Evana! Aw, did she hurt you, baby?” Callie said, smoothing her hand over the cover. “She's an evil, evil woman.”
“Yes, thanks, E! I needed some new spank material,” Rayna commented. Setting aside her favorite issues, she must have noticed her comment had gained the attention of both girls. “What? There is nothing wrong with flicking the bean. Men masturbate all the time. Not to speak
ill of the dead, but I've been in a serious dry spell because of Brent.”
“You're absolutely right, Rayna. It's been three years since I've had sex with a man. I probably wouldn't remember what to do if I got hold of one anyway,” Evana added, lurching to her feet, walking sideways. Apparently, she was the only one that thought the room was now on a slant. “I'm going for some salty food. You all want anything from the kitchen?”
“Salt and vinegar potato chips, please,” Callie replied, not taking her eyes off Vehn.
“I'll take the Funyuns,” Rayna added.
“I know what you mean. I've gotten so good at getting myself off, that I just scream my own damn name,” Callie admitted. “I'm the best I've ever had.”
The girls’ laughter filled the room.
“Jesus, Callie, some of the trash that comes out your mouth!” Rayna threw a pillow at her.
“Ok, pretzels for me, Funyuns for Rayna,” Evana said while passing out the snacks of choice. “And, douche flavored chips for Callie the comedian.”
“Oh my God, Evana! Douche flavored? And you called me the comedian?”
“Takes one to know one.” Evana finally made it back to her nest of pillows, but not before some more major weaving and side stepping, which was amusing to watch since it was so far removed from her usual graceful carriage.
The girls sat in companionable silence while flipping through their magazines, crunching away on their munchies.
“Alright, girls, new game. I'm going to ask a question and you have to say the first thing that pops into your head,” Rayna announced. The girls all nodded in agreement and swallowed their mouthful of snacks, preparing for the game. “What's your favorite muscle on a man's body?”
“The cock!” Evana fired off an answer before anyone else.
“You are such a dirty-minded little minx!” Rayna tried her best to look offended, amusement beaming from her eyes.
“What? Might as well go for the most important muscle,” Evana said, defending her answer.
“She makes a good point. You can function without an arm or leg, but if a guy loses that? Game over.” Callie gave a firm nod, validating her point. “Ok, my turn. Pick a number from one to ten, ten being the most important. How important is the size of a man's penis?”
“10!” They all said in unison.
“Holy crap! Someone call Letterman. We've just found the one thing we all three agree on,” Rayna chuckled.
“Yeah, I always, at the very least, like to cop a feel. I have to see what the guy's packin' before I commit, since my vagina is allergic to small penises,” Callie casually admitted popping a chip in her mouth, trying to appear nonchalant in front of her friends. Truth? She was lonely as hell and she had no prospects in sight, so at this point, she'd be satisfied with any penis, and that was so lame. Plus, this infatuation with a mega supermodel was not going to get her laid, or at the very least, a freakin' date.
“Is that full-on anaphylaxis?” Evana questioned, using her most serious tone.
“Yep. It just closes right up, and my clit goes into hiding. One time it was so bad, I had to coax the little booger out with a piece of cheese.”
“You're crazy, Callie! How does your mind concoct stuff like that?” Rayna asked, shaking her head.
“It's a gift.” Callie's brow creased. “So, the new guy. What was his name again?”
“Tegan Steele,” Evana provided.
“So, was Tegan's voice a panty changer, E?”
“What do mean by ‘panty changer’?”
“You know, how many times would you need to change your panties when you listened to his voice?” Callie tried explaining.
Evana scrunched her face up in confusion.
“It's the rating system I use for anything that has to do with men. You know, for rating a kiss or a hug or a date. Let's say a first kiss from a really hot guy that you like. For example, Vehn's kiss was ten panties,” Callie said, waving her hand in the air as if saying, “Duh, I can't believe I just had to explain that”.
Rayna fell over laughing again while Evana stared at her like she was trying to decipher what Callie had just explained. Callie gave up and sighed heavily, brushing one finger gingerly down the page, tracing Vehn's image on the cover before her. “This is the only man I wouldn't mind licking the sweat off his balls.”
Evana had just tilted her head back finishing off her fourth margarita, when she suddenly slapped a hand over her nose and mouth. Exploding up from where she was sitting, she tripped over a few pillows on her race to the kitchen sink. Callie and Rayna followed close on her heels. Leaning over the sink, margarita shot out her nose and mouth while she tried to cough, breathe, and laugh all at the same time.
“Are you ok?” Rayna asked, passing her a kitchen towel.
Evana nodded her answer, mopping up her face.
“You need to forewarn a bitch before you say something that messed up. I think I have margarita in my sinus cavities.” Evana shot Callie a dirty look.
“You were the one who said you were looking forward to laughing until you vomit. I was just trying to live up to your expectations,” Callie sheepishly replied.
“Wow! You're looking a little small, T.” Vehn opened the door wearing a smile so wide it was amazing he hadn't broken something.
“You're just begging for a beat down, aren't you, shithead? Are you gonna just stand there lookin' at me like a creeper or are you gonna let me the fuck in?”Tegan smirked, his 6'5 frame filling the doorway.
“Get your ass in here. Where's your shit?” Vehn took one step aside before Tegan shouldered his way past dropping the two duffel bags he was carrying just inside the door.
“Movers are parking right outside. You got any place I can put my bike? I'm pretty sure I'm parked illegally...” Tegan’s voice trailed off as he entered the vast space for the first time.
“Bike, as in that old Harley? No, seriously, T, you're like all swoll'd up, bro.” Vehn poked him in the left bicep wanting to gain his attention. The guy had that same awestruck look on his face as the first day Vehn had invited him over to hang out at his parents' house back in 7th grade, and he did not want Tegan to feel out of place here.
“Yep, that's the one,” Tegan replied, swatting Vehn's hand away.
“Dude, you've had that thing forever. I can't believe it still runs.”
“That's because I take care of my shit, and don't call me dude, freak.” The corners of Tegan’s lips twitched, and Vehn knew he was fighting to keep that solemn mask in place.
“I can see you haven't lost that winning personality.” Before Tegan could object, Vehn grabbed him in a tight hug, his arms locking Tegan's down at his sides. “I can't believe you're finally here.”
“I can't believe you're fucking hugging me. Vehn, seriously, get off me or I'm gonna punch you in the throat.” Tegan wasn’t trying very hard to shake him off. “Bike. Park. Now.”
“All right. Come on, you can park it in my storage area around back.” Vehn released him, heading back over to the front door. “Then, I'll show you your room. It's fucking awesome. You're gonna love it here.”
Back down on the street, Tegan’s eyes curiously roamed over the exterior of the building as they secured his motorcycle in Vehn’s storage room and directed the movers to store what little bit was packed in the truck in the room as well before heading back up in the elevator.
“What’s with all the stained glass?” Tegan asked once they made it back up to the fifth floor. Vehn held open the penthouse door watching Tegan’s eyes going everywhere at once.
He had come from such humble beginnings that Vehn was sure the guy was trying to get his bearings, and he hadn’t even started the grand tour.
“It used to be a church. Now it’s been converted into eight separate condos. I was lucky enough to snag one of two penthouse units. Come on, let’s get you unpacked.” Vehn grabbed one of the two black duffle bags that no doubt held every single article of clothing the guy possessed.
Te
gan’s jaw unhinged when Vehn led him down the stairs to his suite. Vehn stepped aside and allowed his friend a moment to take in the high ceiling that managed to dwarf the king-sized bed and the 75-inch flat screen TV mounted on the opposite wall above a sleek, low-slung solid cherry dresser.
Vehn had never been embarrassed by his wealth until he opened the door to the en-suite bath and witnessed Tegan’s eyes flair in surprise at the extravagant shower that looked more like a UFO than something you washed your ass in.
It hadn't taken them long to get Tegan unpacked and settled in with what little belongings he had brought with him.
Vehn finished explaining how the cyber-doorman system worked, given Tegan all the codes, and now they were on their way to the wet bar to grab drinks and head out to the terrace.
“I can't believe you rode that bike all the way from Boston, you crazy fuck.”
“Well, I wasn't about to ride shoulder-to-shoulder with the movers. Besides, I didn't trust them to haul it on the back of the truck.” He took the tumbler of single malt scotch that Vehn offered. “Thanks, man. This place is sick. When you told me about it back when you first bought the place, I didn't imagine it would be this big.”
“That's what all the girls say,” Vehn said, giving him a cheeky grin.
“Pfft. What girls?” Tegan poked back.
Vehn took a sip of his drink, hiding his loneliness behind the rim of his glass. Tegan didn't have a clue he'd hit him in a huge tender spot.
Vehn held open the plate glass door that led out to the terrace. “This entire wall opens up completely and turns into an indoor/outdoor deal. Just wait until next summer. We'll have a barbecue and open the place up. It will totally rock.”
Vehn switched on the outdoor heater before planting his butt in one of the chair/ottoman combos across from the sofa and leaned his head back staring up at the stars. “So, what do you think? You like?”
“What's not to like? This place is amazing. You always did have good taste.”
Vehn smiled at Tegan's compliment and noted he was leaning on the edge of the wall looking out over the courtyard much like he had been doing a few days ago while he had waited for his photos to download. Except Tegan's curtain of silky black hair was shielding his face instead of blowing around his head like Vehn's had done.
