by T Gephart
“Hey,” She finger waved as she stood in her front doorway, all butter-wouldn’t-melt-in-her-mouth. “I assume you met the new tenant?”
“Please tell me you didn’t sell him that apartment hoping we’d get back together, Ivy.” I didn’t even wait for the comfort of her living room, starting my rant as I crossed her threshold.
“Beth, it’s a great building, the same reason why I convinced you to move in.” She shrugged as she motioned me to the couch. Her sly grin hinted that her reasons had more to do with her helpless romantic nature rather than finding everyone suitable real estate. “I only want the best for the people I care about. Now, if two people I care about happen to live at the same address—and it’s a wonderful address—then I’d say it’s more efficient than anything else.”
“This isn’t a time to be cute.”
I assumed that if he asked, she would have only been too happy to give him my address. I wasn’t in witness protection and if he’d really wanted to know, I was listed in the good old white pages. But having him move in, where we would forever—well unless one of us moved—be sharing space, was a little more hint that she was hoping for more.
“Oh come on, Beth.” She took the seat opposite me. “You know you guys were great together. Even if you don’t end up a couple, don’t you miss him as a friend? When was the last time you guys even spoke?”
She had a point. Which pissed me off. Max and I had been great friends, the best kind. And even in our separations we’d always kept in contact. So . . . exactly why was I angry? Ugh, I really hated logic.
“It wouldn’t have killed you to at least give me a tip off.” I huffed back convinced I should still be angry; at what, I had no idea. “He turned up on my doorstep looking fucking fabulous while I was a hot mess.”
“Oh hush, you look great.” A dismissive wave shot in my direction.
“This wasn’t what he was greeted with this morning.” I waved my hand dramatically around my face.
This would have been okay. The combo of jeans, striped cotton tee and black blazer, perfectly fine. While I wasn’t the mirror-mirror-on-the-wall-who’s-the-fairest-of-them-all kind of girl, when put together I could look pretty good. Key words there were put together, which this morning I hadn’t been. Not only was my appearance a disaster, but my mind had been a crime scene.
“It couldn’t have been that bad, I’m sure he’s seen much worse.” She laughed, the sympathy noticeably lacking in her tone.
“So not helping, and so not the point.” The point, something I hadn’t been clear of either, but I wasn’t mentioning it. My tantrum not even close to being done.
“Is it possible that regardless of how you looked that it was just nice for you both to have seen each other again?”
Ahhhh. The point.
Just not the one I had been trying to make.
Bravo. I was an idiot.
“You’re making it very difficult for me to stay angry, Ivy. I came here for a vendetta and I don’t like having to change my agenda.”
“Aw, you love me.” She gave her famous I’m-so-innocent smile.
The vendetta would have to wait for another day, she was right. I was glad to see him and I was already hoping for another chance.
I had never been impatient. I didn’t believe the good things come to those who wait BS, if you wanted something you had to go and get it. But there was a time and place for it and going in all guns blazing didn’t always give you a favorable outcome.
So rather than go back downstairs all here’s Johnny at her front door like a stalker, I decided my juiced up energy could be better spent. Namely with my real estate broker. Oh, happy days.
Joey needed to get back to being super dad—able to change diapers faster than a speeding bullet—which meant my what-the-fuck session with one Shaw had come to an end. And because it had been so freaking awesome I decided to Kardashian that shit—keeping it all in family—and share the love.
As luck would have it, the holy-shit wouldn’t be reserved only for the early part of the morning, a double dose coming my way.
I’d barely parked my car, the engine still idling when I saw her walking down the stairs, the second time seeing her no less impressive than the first. Seriously, my head must have been firmly lodged up my ass when I let her go, a hundred percent knockout material. While she might have been rocking uptown girl with her new look, underneath the conservative threads was straight up sex. Clearly I liked it because she couldn’t dress more PG and yet my dick was already hard.
So rather than sit in my car contemplating her outfit verses my erection, I killed the ignition and stepped out of my ride. I didn’t even have to move, leaning against my car knowing she would have to walk right by me. Sure, the stalker tag I had been trying to avoid was now in danger of becoming a reality. And for no good reason either; I hadn’t even been camping out at her door like I’d wanted too.
“I thought we agreed this should be a team effort?” I couldn’t help but smile as she stopped mid-stride, her eyes flashing with recognition when they landed on me. “I should have known you’d go rogue.”
“My visit was purely reconnaissance, she’s still whole.” Her lips curled into a smile. Nice. I liked that a hell of a lot. “And your accusation of me going rogue is ironic seeing as you’re here too.” She moved closer so she was standing directly in front of me. “I must have missed the pistols at dawn memo.”
“Touché.”
It absolutely killed me not to touch her. My hands having been on her so many times before ached to go back, but I knew I didn’t have her permission. The last thing I wanted was for her to spook. So I kept my hands right where they were, chilling by my sides while she glanced over at my car.
“This is new.” Her hand ran over the hood, my dick absolutely appalled it hadn’t been him getting stroked. “You got rid of the Thunderbird.”
“I did, do you like?”
The Thunderbird had more than just a lot of miles on the clock; it had a lot of history as well. Our first time together had been in the backseat of that car. Lots of good times, but I didn’t need the metal box as a reminder. Had it all tucked away up in my gray matter.
“Yeah, it’s great. I think it suits you.” She gave me a smile of approval that I hadn’t realized I wanted up until then.
“Thanks.”
“I should head back.” Her eyes darted to the road, the cars moving about their business without any concern for us. And I wasn’t ready for the conversation to end as well. At least now, I had an excuse to prolong it without looking like creeper.
“Well, if you’ve already done recon and we aren’t mission-ready on Operation Ivy, there’s really no reason for me to be here.” I tapped the door of my car. “I could give you a ride back.”
She hesitated a minute. “You sure it wouldn’t be any trouble?”
“We live in the same building.” Thank you, Ivy. “I am literally going back to your place.”
“Yeah, that would be great.”
Without giving her a chance to reconsider, I popped open the door and let her slide in. My body took up residence on the sidewalk until she had her ass on the seat and was fastening her seatbelt. Then with an urgency I hadn’t had a minute ago, I moved to the driver’s side and hopped in. The rumble of the V8 roared to life as I buckled in.
“You good?” I asked for no particular reason other than it gave me a chance to look at her.
“Yep, ready to go.”
We peeled away from the curb as the car inched into traffic. It was the one time I prayed for gridlock; the drive back wouldn’t be long enough. Not unless I could find a viable excuse.
“You want to go grab a coffee or something?” The or something what I was mainly interested in.
“Sure, we could do that.” She answered with little hesitation. “We can discuss strategy.”
Hell, I was happy to discuss the migration corridors of geese if it bought me more time. Hopefully somewhere in there I could see where she sat on going ou
t for dinner because I was an asshole who wouldn’t leave well enough alone.
The rest of the ride was easy, as it had always been with her. Tunes played in the background as her eyes stared out the window, the need to talk not necessary. It could have been awkward, but it wasn’t, and I was glad that at least that part of what we’d had stayed the same. The unspoken ease the same as it had always been.
I parked the car on a side street not far from the coffee house I’d recently discovered. I still preferred my java old school—coffee pot to cup—with the whole over-priced-fancy-shit-in-takeaway-cup making me eye roll. But inviting her back to my place for a coffee sounded about as innocent as asking her to hold my dick while I took a piss. Even if my intentions were on the level, it would look shady. Which meant I had to outsource, the ma and pa operation of Beans a palatable compromise.
We exited the car and took the short walk. I couldn’t help but hold back a few steps and admire the view, the sun catching her hair in just the right way so that the ends looked like they were on fire. She was so fucking beautiful I wasn’t sure how she’d ever ended up with the likes of me. I had definitely been punching above my weight.
Pulling my head out of my ass long enough to open the door, we strode inside of Beans and placed our order. Americano for me, and some toasted caramel macchiato for her. I even reserved the eye roll when she ordered it, the drink losing its douchebag status simply because she wanted it.
With drinks in hand we snagged a booth toward the back where it didn’t bleed noise. My attention noticing the sway of her hips a little too much before we sat down. I’d never been so glad to get my ass in a seat, my cock straining against the front of my jeans.
“So I have to ask, and this just isn’t me being a superficial asshole, but just because I’m curious.” I didn’t waste time, one of the questions that had been burning through my mind shot out of my mouth. “Why the image overhaul? Just the job or personal choice?”
“Partly because of the job.” She shrugged, lifting the coffee to her lips. Mmmm. Yum. And I wasn’t talking about the coffee. “Teaching jobs in good schools are so competitive and showing up at an interview with a jet-black exaggerated bob wouldn’t have won me any favors.” She smiled, her hands wrapped tightly around her cup.
“But the other part was I just needed a change, I wasn’t a little girl running around the Bronx anymore, I figured I should look the part. It took a while to get used to, but I don’t miss the stained tub every time I dyed my hair. It’s really different huh?”
Different? Try out-fucking-standing. But then again, she could shave her head and wear a burlap sack and she’d still be prettier than any other girl on the planet.
“Yeah, but I like it.” I went with a scaled down response. The I-want-to-bury-my-face-in-it-when-you-wake-up-beside-me not having a snowball’s chance in hell of being repeated. “I guess we’ve both made some changes.”
“Yes, we have.” She grinned at my chest, the fact she was into it making me sit up a little straighter. “Whatever you’re doing obviously agrees with you.”
Not even going to pretend that her liking what she saw didn’t give me more fucking pleasure than it should. The shit-eating grin not hiding even if I’d wanted, my plan on playing it cool waving goodbye as it took the first exit.
“So no regrets? The move?” I figured since I’d already jumped off that cliff why not fully commit.
“No, it was for the best and I love my life here. No regrets.”
Well wasn’t that just a mind fuck of a fucking paradox. Was I happy for her because she was loving her life or pissed because none of that equation involved me? A good man would have been happy for her, I hadn’t decided if I was a good man today.
Which brought up another conundrum. Did her new fucking awesome life include a boyfriend? What little evidence I had—she lived with a girl, at least she hadn’t shacked up with anyone and that Ivy wouldn’t maliciously try and break up a happy couple—suggested no. Sadly, if she said she was with a dude, I can’t say my intentions would change. Guess that answers that question of what kind of man I am, and I am absolutely fucking fine with it. Especially if it means I get her.
“So . . . you dating anyone?” I threw it out there with no segue. I mean seriously, what did I have to lose? Her thinking I was an asshole? I’d take the risk thank you very much.
“Nothing serious.” She shrugged, her nose scrunching with dissatisfaction. “You?”
“Yeah, hard to date when everything you do ends up online. So that would be a big negative.”
And halleluiah for that. She was single and I was single, so one plus one equaled totally asking her out.
“Well that’s super depressing.” She tried to hide the smile behind her cup. “If you aren’t having any luck what hope do the rest of us mortals have?”
“I don’t know what I’m doing wrong.” I rubbed the back of my neck, biting back the grin. “Maybe we can try and figure it out over dinner?” And look at me just sliding that in like a smooth bastard. “You can critique my technique.”
Not even going to try and pretend that wasn’t the worst pick-up line of all time. That was dick-in-a-box level bad. Did I give a fuck? Not if the answer was yes.
“I’m almost positive there is nothing wrong with your technique.” She gave up on her coffee and nailed me with a look that made my balls ache.
“We’d want to be sure though, you can’t be too careful.” I leaned in closer; her lack of no meaning there was still a chance for a yes.
“Okay, I’ll go out with you. Just to prove to you there is nothing wrong.”
Call me conceited, but I didn’t care what got us over the line. Pity? I’d take it, I’d work that shit in my favor too. The end result was the same. Her and I—together.
“Awesome, you have a place in mind?” The urge to fist pump almost too freaking great as I forced my ass to stay in my seat.
“Well considering it’s your experiment, I think you should pick the place.”
This kept getting better and better. The ball was in my court and I wasn’t packing up and taking it home that’s for damn sure.
“That I can do.” Without breaking a sweat. “What do you say, Friday night? I can pick you up around seven.”
While it was five days longer than I wanted to wait, I figured I’d play it cool.
“Maybe it’s better if I meet you there. Fridays are usually crazy for me and I’d hate to keep you waiting. Besides, Jules will probably grill you with twenty questions if you stop by the apartment.”
“Jules can ask me anything she wants.”
“Yeah, you say that now, but you don’t know her. Trust me.” She’d barely finished the sentence when her cheeks pinked, her eyes having a hard time staying on mine. Oh, this was fucking brilliant. Something had been said and judging by that reaction, I was dying to find out.
“Beth, was there something she asked you about me?”
“No, of course not.” She scoffed, dismissing me with a wave like I hadn’t seen the red-light-glow on her face. “I mean, she asked how we met and stuff like that. Nothing personal. I mean, not overly personal. And I didn’t say anything that was personal.” She alternated between nodding and shaking her head, like she couldn’t decide which would have been the more appropriate reaction.
“You said personal three times.”
“Just reinforcing the facts.”
Could she be more adorable? Her bumbling response a tip off the words had most definitely been spoken, what they were about remained the mystery.
“You can tell your friends whatever you want about me, Beth. I trust my friends, and we’re still friends, right?”
That was probably the most honest thing to come out of my mouth. No playing, no ulterior motive—no game. She knew shit about me that could give the folks at TMZ a real hard-on and I still wasn’t worried. Not because I thought I was bulletproof, but because of all the people in the world to go there, I was sure Beth wasn’t one of th
em. And if I was wrong then I would happily go down in a ball of flames.
“Of course we are.” Any humor from her voice MIA. “I think we’ll always be friends.”
“Good.” There was no humor in mine either.
I was way more nervous than I should be.
It’s not like it was a date. Or at least that’s what I told myself. I’m almost positive that two people of the opposite sex can meet for a meal and it not be a date. It was friends just being friendly and catching up. And everyone had to eat, it’s not like I could starve. In fact, it was actually really smart, the multitasking of mutually fueling our bodies with nutrients while we talked. Most definitely not a date.
“Beth,” his one word greeting enough to liquefy my sides. Not a date, I reminded myself as I shuffled into the seat opposite him.
Max had picked a cute local restaurant in the neighborhood, Christina’s. It hadn’t hit the social pages yet so therefore didn’t require a three month advanced booking, but the food was out-of-this-world delicious. It’s exactly the place I would have chosen, if I’d been deciding the venue. Which I hadn’t, because I stupidly pretended to not care. Playing it cool as it were, except I was most definitely not cool.
“Sorry I’m late.” I inched my chair closer, his eyes remaining on me the entire time. Smooth. “I got held up.” Translation, I tried on fifteen outfits before I decided on what to wear. But it’s not a date, of course not. I tried not to sound frazzled as I shot him a smile before directing my attention to my menu. Freaking delicious, and I wasn’t talking about the culinary offerings of Christina’s.
“It’s fine, I haven’t been waiting that long.” He didn’t even bother with the menu instead taking a sip from the beer he’d already ordered.
And being that he was as attentive as he’d always been he also ordered me a pre-meal beverage, a glass of white wine sitting directly in front of me. I offered my silent thank you for his thoughtfulness as I welcomed the chilled goodness into my mouth. I was definitely going to need a few more of these. A lot more and if I didn’t think it would convey the wrong idea, I would have reached across and kissed him.
