by Rose Croft
“No. I couldn’t sleep.” Silence. “Is everything okay?” she asked tentatively.
“Yeah.” I grabbed a cigarette out of the pack on my dresser and stepped out on the balcony. “I just got back from dropping Alyssa off at Hotel ZaZa.” I lit up, took a drag, and exhaled slowly.
“Oh.” Her oh was soft, barely spoken, but I could tell by her tone she wanted to know more.
I took another drag. “I told her I couldn’t be with her because it wasn’t right if I was constantly thinking about someone else.”
I heard her sharp intake of breath. Then, a pause. “Is Alyssa okay?”
“She’s not happy at the moment.”
“I don’t blame her. You told me you two were serious.” Why in the fuck were we analyzing this? How did we go from almost attacking each other at the restaurant to this?
I thumbed my eyebrow. “I did. I also told you that this was the first serious relationship I’d had…” Since you. “In a long time.” I crushed the butt under my shoe. “I thought we were close, but there were some things that just didn’t seem right. In the end, we weren’t on the same page.” In the end, I saw you again, and then I proceeded to fantasize about you while I fucked her. And have only thought of you since. That was the last time Alyssa and I had been intimate. I didn’t want to share that part. That wasn’t the only reason. “There were other things too.”
“So…what happens now?”
“What do you wish would happen? I want to see you again. I thought that’s what you wanted too.” She was lying to herself if she denied it. We had too strong a connection between us. I saw it in her eyes when she looked at me. I felt it in her touch. I knew I wasn’t imagining this.
“It is, Andrew.” She sighed. “I just don’t want to be your charity case.”
“‘Charity case’? What the hell does that mean?”
“You left me a ridiculous tip. Are you insane? I get it. I don’t make that much money, but I don’t need handouts. I know how caring and involved you are in social issues, but please don’t feel like you need to take me on, too.”
Was she fucking kidding with this? I never thought of her like that. Yeah, I wanted to help her because she deserved it. “Scout, I never saw you that way. I just want to help you. You obviously work so hard. I admire that. I have the means to do it, that’s all.”
The line was silent until she exhaled. “Okay, so you didn’t leave me all that as a pre-payment for sexual favors?” Her voice was light.
Good one, Scout. I chuckled to myself. “No. This isn’t the damn sequel to Indecent Proposal.”
Her laugh oozed through the receiver into my ear and rendered me almost speechless. “That was a random reference, Andrew. You actually watched that nineties movie? It doesn’t even sound like your type of movie.”
“No, but it sounded good. Didn’t it?” She was amused again, and it was contagious. I leaned over my balcony and stared out into the night shadowed with tall buildings piercing the partly cloudy sky. “I was serious about wanting to read your book. Can I read more?”
“Yes. I can send what I have tonight.” I could hear that familiar excitement in her voice.
“I’d like that.” I wanted more. I knew it was late, but I didn’t want this conversation to end. I felt energized like I was immortal and had no concept of time with her. In my mind, it was like daybreak, when everything is alive and fresh, ready to go. I wasn’t tired by any means.
“I will. I’ve almost finished my first draft. I just need to write the climactic ending.”
“Okay, send me what you have.” I was amped, wanting to read her words. Read her. Her words were always brutally honest as though they were the key to her soul. I was the junkie who needed another fix. Always.
I heard her shuffling around. “I’m sending it right now.”
I saw the email notification on my phone. “Got it. I’ll read it.” I didn’t want this conversation to end. Not yet. “Where did you come up with this story?”
She laughed nervously. “I don’t know. I’ve always been drawn to people who are dark, unredeemable…you know, fragile. That never-ending quest to save someone. I started thinking about the story, and the characters just kept talking in my head. It sounds crazy, right?”
“No. I get what you’re saying.” Only writers would understand this shit. And, it was a comforting feeling to talk about it. This conversation felt like something old but wonderful, like a favorite toy or song—anything tangible from the past that brought you happiness in its familiarity that you never wanted to part with. I clutched the phone closer to me. “I want to see you, Loren. May I?”
“Yes.” It was a simple answer, but her voice was low, seductive. I was smiling like the biggest jackass, ever. It was stupid, borderline insane the way I thought of her, but I didn’t care. In my mind the caring was timeless, unending.
Present
I heard the knock on my door. My doorbell was broken. Andrew was here. Did I feel somewhat self-conscious about my house, the doorbell not working? Yes. However, I straightened my shoulders and answered the door. Although I tried to front, I faltered because he was so beautiful. Yes, that was an overplayed word, but true nonetheless.
“Loren…” He groaned overdramatically as he scanned my front lawn. “We’ve got to get this yard situation under control.”
“My yard looks like crap. Thanks for stating the obvious.” I hadn’t mowed it again since he had over a month ago. I took in Andrew’s tall frame. He had on a plain white T-shirt and jeans that hung low on his waist. I sure as hell wasn’t thinking about my lawn anymore.
It was Sunday afternoon, and Andrew was taking me to this place on the Katy Trail that had an outdoor patio and bar food. “I read your chapters.” He laid his arm against the back of my seat as he put the car in reverse.
“You did?” It had been around three in the morning when I got off the phone with him, and it was two in the afternoon now. Less than twelve hours had passed. “Did you even get any sleep?” I had sent him all I’d written so far, which was more than two hundred pages.
“A couple of hours. I don’t need that much.” He didn’t look fatigued, either. Was he a vampire or something? “I enjoy Adam and Veronica’s story so far. You’ve created a strong backstory and fleshed out their personalities and traits, especially when they interact. And their chemistry is off the charts. The love scenes are very intense.”
“It’s not just vulgar sex without substance, as you were probably thinking,” I couldn’t help but say.
“I wasn’t thinking that exactly,” he denied. “But, the characters seemed to come off the page and come on the page, too.” He said it with a straight face.
I slapped him on the arm. “I can’t believe you just said that.” I had to admit it was kind of funny.
“Careful, Scout, I’m driving.” A few seconds of silence passed as I felt somewhat remorseful, then I saw his lip curl up slyly. “You know it’s hard to ignore the puns.”
I laughed. “Okay, Andrew, I get it. You know, for a reviewer you’re not exactly keeping it professional.”
“The comments I made on your document are very professional, I assure you. I’m just being honest. But seriously, the descriptions made me feel I was there. And the sex scenes were scorching, but not cheesy.” He pulled into a public parking lot that was almost full to capacity and slipped into a space toward the back of the lot near abandoned railroad tracks.
Should I feel somewhat uncomfortable discussing with Andrew the sex scenes I’d written? Probably. However, I thumbed my seat belt. “Did they make you horny?” I asked in a fake British accent.
“Yes, and please don’t ever speak in a British accent again.” He had a pleading look in his eyes as though I were doing something egregious. He put the car in park and cut the engine.
“You mean I don’t sound like I’m from London?” I knew my accent was horrible, but I couldn’t help doing it, egging him on. We always shared a weird sense of humor.
“Aaaagggh, stop!” He growled, but I caught his smile as he tried to cover my mouth with his hand.
I ducked away giggling. The next thing I felt were fingers jabbing me in the ribs. That sent me into a fit of hysterics. “Andrew…I’m gonna kill you…Quit!” He finally relented, giving me time to calm down.
“God, I’ve missed this.” He was leaned over in my personal space, his hand on my hip. He was taking up my space, my mind, my everything. My senses were inundated with his spicy, musky scent and a hint of cigarettes—intoxicating, manly. His eyes were rainforest green, darker, but brilliant in their hue like nothing I’d ever seen before.
“We’d better go inside.” Despite wanting to reach around his neck and suction my mouth to his, I couldn’t help but think that he’d just broken up with his girlfriend. Okay, they’d been broken up for a month, but still.
“Yeah.” His hand lingered, as his eyes took me in and he slowly edged toward his door, grabbing the handle. “Let’s go.”
We were seated on a bench out back, facing the trail, watching the occasional cyclist, jogger or person walking a dog. “How long are you in town?” I ran my thumb along the side of my glass of beer, smearing the condensation.
“I have to be in Austin Tuesday afternoon. I’m working on a business proposal.” He stared out at the tree-lined trails in front of us. “I need to see Mom and Dad tomorrow before I leave. They’re in Hawaii right now and fly in tomorrow afternoon.”
My stomach dropped. When would I see him again? I tried to push it aside. “How are your parents?” Andrew’s mom and dad had always been very friendly and made me feel welcomed. I always wondered where Andrew came from, because his personality was so different from theirs. Looks-wise, there was no doubt they were his parents, but that’s where the resemblance ended.
“They’re great. They still live in the same house.”
“My parents do, too.” I glanced at him sitting next to me as he took a sip of his drink, wondering if he felt uncomfortable talking about my mom and dad. Couldn’t blame him.
He set it down. “How’s your brother? Does he still play golf?”
“Yeah, Doug’s been on the PGA Tour for the past few years and doing well.”
“Nice. Do you ever watch him play?”
“I do when he’s in town. I went to the Masters last year when Doug paid for Mom, Dad, and me to go.” The Masters was like the Super Bowl of golf, and Doug had finished in the top five, which was amazing. This year, unfortunately, he had a major meltdown, blowing a huge lead on the final day. However, overall, he’d had a good career so far. “Do you ever play golf?”
“No. Do I look like a golfer? Do you golf?”
“No, but I thought maybe you played since you’re well off, and golf is a rich man’s game. You don’t conduct business on the golf course? Or try to pimp your movies to producers?”
He chuckled. “No. I haven’t had to do that, thank God. That sounds like my worst nightmare.”
I smiled and cupped my drink. I thought again about that day when my parents had stormed into my room. My dad had roughly escorted him out of my room, but I never knew what transpired after. I bit my lip, anxious to ask, cautious enough that I didn’t want to ruin our friendly banter—but curiosity won out. “Andrew…what did my dad say to you that day?”
“It wasn’t a lengthy conversation.” He shrugged, but his hands were clenched around his glass. “He basically told me that, if I cared for you so much, I’d leave you alone because I would only ruin your life.”
His words hit me like tiny knives nicking me all over. Not enough to kill but sufficient enough to torture. “I’m so sorry for that.”
He leaned into me, bumping my shoulder with his. “It’s in the past. Leave it there.”
I opened my mouth. “But…” He put a finger on my lips.
“You don’t need to apologize for your parents.” He dragged his finger over my bottom lip. His eyes were magnetic and his touch seductive, possessing the power to make me oblivious to everything but him.
“How are we doing here?” Andrew pulled away with a smug look. Our server stood in front of us. “Can I get you another beer? Any food?”
Andrew ordered some brisket nachos and two more beers. “You’ll like these, I promise.”
As the server walked away, I asked, “John plays tonight, right?”
Andrew nodded. “At seven.”
“Are you going?” I was somewhat envious that he had access to the games.
“Yeah. You wanna go with me?” He peered at me with his chin down.
“Sure.” I could barely contain the excitement in my voice. Today had been perfect—I couldn’t have dreamt it better. Hopefully, this was the beginning of better things to come.
The following week was busy between work, editing what Andrew sent, and talking to him on the phone every night for hours about anything. We never ran out of things to say to each other. When not talking on the phone, we texted each other throughout the day. Some of the things we said might have seemed deranged to others, but to us they made perfect sense. He said he would be back in town on Saturday.
I thought about the other night when he pulled into my driveway after the baseball game. I wondered if he would try to kiss me because in my mind there had been a few almost moments, but he walked me to my door like a gentleman and kissed me on the forehead. He must’ve seen the puzzled look on my face because his lips quirked. “I want to take this slowly.” I agreed with him. He was right, of course, although there was a small part of me that questioned whether he truly wanted to be with me.
I’d finished reviewing the comments Andrew had made. Luckily, he made minimal changes, so I didn’t have to do a lot of rewriting. In certain parts he wanted me to be more descriptive, and he suggested some different word usage to change up some of the repetitive phrasing. When I arrived at the sex scenes, he definitely had much more input, adding more thoughts and descriptions from a guy’s perspective.
As I read it, I felt warmth spread through me, and my thighs clenched. His edits made the scene more sensual and realistic. It also turned me on because those were his words, his thoughts; it was Andrew seeping off the page. Wow, this was like seductive poetry with a lot of penetration.
Maybe he should write erotica. I wanted to take a moment and get myself off, but working on the edits took precedence. I was determined to meet the goals that I had set for myself on this book. Not even my intense desire from reading his words blended with mine was going to interrupt my flow.
I stared at the screen, willing myself to type, trying to finish this damn book. Why was it so hard to write the final part? I would start something and delete. Write another paragraph and delete. Write a whole page and delete. Nothing seemed to sound good or to work. Screw it. I should just grab my vibrator, reread what Andrew wrote, and get myself off.
But my phone chimed, and my heart raced like it normally did each time I heard it signal lately. My heart slowed down when I saw the text was from Rose.
“Drinks tomorrow night?”
“Yes!!!”
It’d been a long week, and rare that I had a Friday night off. I needed to talk to my bestie. I closed my laptop and took it to my room, missing Andrew.
Present
“I knew it, Loren. See? I was right.” Rose smiled, like the know-it-all she thought she was, when I told her about Andrew.
“Yes, you were.” I sighed, tapping my finger to the beat of the music that played throughout the bar. A smile lingered on my lips.
“So…have you two had…” She leaned in, looking solemn. “S-e-x?”
She could be so ridiculous sometimes. I paused mid-drink. “N-o.”
She crossed her forearms, and I saw her do a quick side-eye glance toward the bar before she asked, “When will you see him again?”
“In about thirty minutes. He cut his trip short. He’s meeting us here.” I’d talked to Andrew earlier, and he’d been on his way back from Austin. Again, Rose’s attention
was drawn elsewhere, but this time her cheeks heightened in color as she shifted her focus back to me. Busted. “See something you like?”
“Check out the eye candy to your right. Don’t turn yet, he’s looking our way.” She glanced down at the table and slyly glanced sideways. This was exciting and new for Rose. She’d never proactively stared at guys like that. She gasped and ducked her head. “Oh, God, he’s walking toward us.”
The curiosity was killing me. I chanced a glance and my adrenaline rushed, thinking it was Andrew. But my heart fell when I saw it was John.
“Loren? I thought that was you.” He reached in and we hugged.
“You know this guy?” Rose’s eyebrows shot up. She stared at me in disbelief.
“Yes, this is Andrew’s brother.” I motioned to Rose. “John, this is my good friend Rose.”
“Hi, Rose.” John was checking her out hard, while Rose’s eyes darted back and forth between John and me like she’d forgotten social etiquette. I tilted my head in his direction and mouthed the words say something.
She jerked her chin in recognition and glanced at him, running her fingers up the side of her neck. “Oh, heeeey.” This was interesting. I’d never seen Rose flustered like this.
But, why was John here? I knew the All-Star break was the next week, but teams still had games throughout the weekend. And John made the All-Star team. “What are you doing here? Don’t you have games this weekend?” I shot John a quizzical look.
“I do, but I pulled a hamstring a few days ago, and I don’t want to aggravate it,” he said, with his eyes on Rose.
“Oh, no! Does that mean you’ll miss the All-Star game, too? I know you were selected.”
“Yep.” A flash of disappointment crossed over his face before he glanced down at his feet.
“What All-Star game?” Rose jumped in. “Do you play football or something?” Football was probably the only sport Rose had ever watched. She was not a sports aficionado.
