Geek Actually Season 1 Omnibus

by Cathy Yardley

  She refused to let his words soften her. “I’m happy to hear that.”

  He nodded, then went back down her walkway to his car. Taneesha closed the door to keep from running across the yard to him. She tried to shake the conversation off with a game. She tried to watch TV, but over and over, her mind kept going back to the fact that Diego hadn’t asked for forgiveness. He’d only come by to let her know he understood how his thinking had been wrong, that he was mortified by it, and that he was sorry. He hadn’t sent a text or an email. Diego had looked her in the eyes and apologized in the most sincere way Taneesha had ever seen. He hadn’t even asked her if he could come in.

  In all the ways that mattered, he’d seen her. For him, she wasn’t invisible or a problem with a capital P. She pressed her palms against her eyes.

  ADITI

  Two hours flew by and it felt like nothing as Aditi and Druv immersed themselves in their shared fandom. This, too, she had missed. So much so that when Druv went to heat up leftovers for their lunch, she picked up her phone to call her mother to make plans to go shoe shopping. A promised visit would go over much better than just a phone call anyway.

  She didn’t get the chance to dial for a full minute, due to the incessant alerts from her voice mail and email. The voice messages would likely be from Michelle, checking in on whatever was due today. Business as usual, even though they hadn’t spoken since the infamous hang-up.

  Aditi checked her email first. Another article was due, no surprise, but thankfully it was more run-of-the-mill “buy my book.” The rest of the ten alerts were texts from Cuddlebug.

  She glanced toward the kitchen. Druv hummed a tune she couldn’t catch, not with the way he was butchering it. His annoyance had transformed into a buoyant mood after the second episode of Legends.

  She could even probably talk him into watching some of her Bollywood faves instead of Rosewood. She was in a mood to watch some epic family dramedy.

  And cutting things off with Cuddlebug was a first step toward untangling her life. It wouldn’t hurt. It wouldn’t twist her stomach into knots. And really, dick grew on trees for her.

  With the small thing decided, she headed to her office, plunked into her chair, and scrolled through each message.

  Hey, just wanted to see what you were doing today. Maybe we can hook up?

  Twenty minutes later he’d sent: I know you don’t like getting into the details of your life. I get it, but the last few times we met up you seemed really stressed. Is it your husband?

  Red crept into her vision, but she opened the next message that he sent an hour after that one.

  I just want to see you. We can talk about anything. You can tell me anything, especially if your husband is pressuring you in any way.

  The roar in her ears was the first sign she probably shouldn’t dial his number, but she couldn’t hear over it. “Hey,” she said when he answered on the first ring.

  “I’m so glad you called.”

  “This isn’t working out.”

  He sighed. “Aditi, I’m just trying—”

  “We’ve had this talk a million times, but let me be clearer now.”

  “Okay,” Cuddlebug said cautiously.

  “We fuck. That’s it. We don’t hold hands afterwards. The extent of our relationship is we make each other come. That’s it. That’s all I want. I never wanted anything more.”

  “Aditi, will you listen?”

  “To what?”

  “That’s harsh.”

  “No, it’s honest.”

  “I just want to take care of you. Your husband doesn’t—”

  “How my husband treats me is between him and me!” Aditi was getting too aggravated to keep her composure.

  “I knew it,” he said, sounding gratified. “I knew he was the reason you were—”

  Aditi closed her eyes, feeling her nostrils flare, and tried not to scream. “What you think you know is wrong. I have an open marriage. It will remain open until death do us part. We like it that way. You unfortunately won’t benefit from this arrangement anymore. Find someone else to save, because we’re done. Is that clear?”

  “Aditi, I think we can talk about this rationally.”

  “Trust me, I’m being very rational. My husband and I need to finish our binge on Netflix. Consider this our final goodbye. Take it with grace.”

  She hung up and wished for the good ole days when a person could slam a phone down. The anger continued to roil in her stomach, though. Cuddlebug had been pushy, assuming he knew better and asking her to be and do things she did not want. She had no patience left for him, no matter how nice he was or how extraordinary the sex. Still, she wondered why it was so easy to shut him down and not feel bad about it.

  Aditi sat with her phone in her hand, staring at the screen. She waited to feel powerful and relieved at having cut him off for good. She held out for that heady feeling, to have one less thing to run from.

  But the emotions didn’t come. And they likely wouldn’t, because Cuddlebug was not the person weighing most heavily on her. The person she’d wanted to yell at and let out her frustration at was Michelle. Her friend who all too often only acted as her editor. Guilt tried to sink its teeth in. Michelle had encouraged her. Michelle had been one of her biggest cheerleaders; not just in life but at Faraday.

  That shouldn’t mean Aditi had to sacrifice portions of her life or her art to Michelle. If her friend wanted to only be her editor, there was only one way to deal with her editor—ask for a new one.

  The easy way to deal with the problem was to call her agent and let the woman earn her fifteen percent. Even if she couldn’t get a new editor, boundaries would be drawn, and at the very least, any request would have to go through a third party. But even though Michelle had forgotten the important part of the relationship, that didn’t mean Aditi had.

  She tugged on the end of the braid, her phone clutched in her hand. She didn’t want to do this. Yet she felt she had to.

  Aditi sighed deeply, then called Michelle’s personal line. Her friend answered before the first ring had finished.

  “Hey.” Michelle sounded cautious. “Did you get my email about the Bustle article?”

  Not a real greeting, but a question about what she was doing for the book. The doubt that this was the right thing to do faded, but it still didn’t feel easy. Now or never. “About that. I’m going to get it done. I’m going to do it within the deadline.” Aditi closed her eyes.

  “That’s great,” Michelle said, then paused. “I’m really glad you called. I think we need to talk about—”

  Aditi closed her eyes.“I want a new editor.”

  Silence.

  What did she expect? Michelle wouldn’t cheer, she’d process and then make a plan. Aditi had to get the rest out before that plan landed on her like a ton of bricks.

  “I want a new editor because… there’s no escape from you. I can’t chat with my friends about my latest exploits on Tinder because I know I’m going to be asked if I’m writing and why not and shouldn’t I be? I am constantly hunted down by my editor and sent articles that might inspire my muse. I can’t even bitch about my editor because she’s right there. All the time. Pressuring me to fall in line. To fall in line even when one of our friends is taking a hit.”

  Aditi could hear Michelle breathing.

  Now that the flood had been let loose, she couldn’t stem it. “I can’t help but feel grateful, guilty, and then bitchy. This is a cycle I can’t seem to break. I thought it would be cool and fun and maybe even poignant that it would be you who helped bring my books to the world, but it’s not. My friend and my editor is leaving me out in the cold, and I have to protect myself.”

  “I see,” was all Michelle said after a long moment. Aditi could hear the hurt in her tone.

  “Okay. Fine. I’m mad at you. I’m probably going to keep being angry at you until it burns off. The only thing I can do is ask for another editor. I wanted to tell you instead of you hearing it from someone
else.”

  “I… really don’t know what to say to this, Aditi.”

  Aditi pinched the bridge of her nose, her frustration mounting. She was speaking her truth and her friend had retreated to cool professionalism. “This is exactly what I mean. You don’t have to put a professional face on this.”

  “Even my reaction is a problem for you? What do you really want, Aditi? Do you even know? Or will you drag your feet on that, too?”

  That made her sit up. “You’re right. I have been dragging my feet. I’ve avoided your phone calls more than I’ve answered them. I’m done, Miche. I’m done running. I’m going to call my agent and make the request through the official channels. The first book is done and I’ll worry about the second with someone new.”

  Michelle blew out a breath and it exploded through the phone. Aditi winced but waited.

  It only took her friend a few seconds to pull it together. “I’ll let my boss know about your incoming request. I’m not sure if they’ll be able to reassign you. This request won’t be met with support. I can tell you that.” And that was all Michelle had to say.

  Aditi couldn’t, wouldn’t hold Michelle’s professionalism against her, but where the hell was her friend? Even now, where was the Michelle who had gamed with her? Who would have flipped her lid had any other editor asked Aditi to walk back her article on Jezebel? “Fine.”

  “Fine.”

  They ended the call like that. Aditi pressed her hand to her stomach and leaned forward until her braid slid into her face. The sensation of being hollowed out while being the bad guy was why she hated confrontation.

  Letting those emotions sink in, she didn’t glance up at the knock at the door.

  “You okay?” Druv asked.

  “I just broke up with Michelle as my editor.”

  “I… heard.”

  “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  “And that would be fine. You just did a fair impression of The Exorcist, only with words.”

  She looked at her husband and then glared. “Not. Helping.”

  “Sorry, what would help?”

  Aditi bowed her head again. “I need to watch something that’ll help me cry.”

  “How about this. I’ll get the rum. You can turn on Kal Ho Naa Ho to sob to and I won’t complain until we’re at the two-hour mark.”

  She chuckled but the pit in her stomach refused to go away. “Two hours and thirty minutes and we might have a deal.”

  Druv sighed dramatically. “I guess I can agree to that.”

  She straightened and really looked at her husband. There was still much they needed to talk about, but it could wait. She wasn’t going to run from it, though. No more running.

  TANEESHA

  Diego’s shop was empty, the perfect time for him to restack the games neatly on the shelves. His broad back stretched the plain black shirt he wore, but for the first time since Taneesha had met him, his shoulders rode low.

  “Diego?”

  He jolted to attention, then faced her. “Hey.” He sounded surprised before a smile broke out. “I didn’t expect to see you.”

  “Ever?”

  “Um… let me lock up so we can talk. If that’s what you want.”

  What she wanted was for the knots in her stomach to ease and for her heart to settle down. Instead of watching him intently, she glanced around the store. He hadn’t changed it since her last visit, and she knew popular games were always changing. She crossed her arms over her chest. “That’s fine, Diego.”

  Once he was done he stood in front of her. “I really want to hug you. But I don’t know if that would be okay. Can I?”

  Something inside her broke. She glanced down so he couldn’t see the tears that sprang to her eyes. He was asking for her consent. That, if nothing else, was proof he’d been listening to her. He’d been listening to every woman who told him the truth about the world.

  “That’s fine,” she said.

  His arms, warm and sure, wrapped around her. “I didn’t mean to make you cry.”

  “I’m not.”

  “Dust? Onions?”

  She rubbed her face against his shirt. He smelled of laundry soap and… a little like the dust one found in a board game shop. She laughed. “You smell slightly like dusty cardboard.”

  His hand slid up to the back of her neck. “I like to think I smell like old books. You know, an adventure waiting around the corner.”

  Taneesha looked at him. Her brows remained furrowed.

  He said, “I am sorry.”

  “I’m going to give you—us—a second chance. Just do what you were willing to do a few moments ago.”

  “Listen?”

  She smiled because he’d gotten it without prompting. “Exactly.”

  “I gotta deal with the register and receipts. Will you wait? We can go out and get a drink. You can yell at me or call me a douchenozzle as often as you need.”

  “Diego,” she said on a laugh.

  “I’m serious. My parents have that open policy with each other. I won’t repeat some of the things my mother has muttered under her breath.”

  Amused, Taneesha glanced around for a place to sit and found nothing. “Do you have a chair behind the counter?”

  “Sit on it.”

  “It’s glass.”

  “It’ll hold you. Believe me. I’ve dropped the cash register on it at least twice.”

  There were still knots in her stomach, but that could easily be nerves or from being wound up before she came over to his shop. Taneesha placed her hand over her belly button and watched him work. He moved with an efficiency she envied. This was why she’d crushed on him, too. He may act awkward in conversations, but when it came down to work, Diego didn’t doubt himself or show an ounce of insecurity.

  “Curious question,” she said.

  He turned away from the stack of games to give her his full attention. “Hit me with it.”

  “Why me?”

  And there was the shy, awkward guy who didn’t use words that dug into her bones. His laugh was low, soft as he moved to the blinds to close them. “The unvarnished truth?”

  She braced. “Yes.”

  “You’re smarter than I am.”

  “What?”

  “You are. I have to step up my game with you. Not that I had a lot, but I wanted to.” His face flushed and he moved to her, stopped at her leg, and met her gaze. “You made me want, Taneesha.”

  Her cheeks warmed. She curled her fingers around the edge of the counter. “Come here.”

  He lifted a brow but obeyed the soft-spoken demand. She opened her legs and pulled Diego by his shirt to drag him to her, to kiss him because he made her want. Crave.

  It was probably foolhardy to give him this much of her forgiveness so quickly, but she’d missed him. Missed the way she could be geek and woman with him.

  And she’d missed his eager, passionate kisses. He grasped her arms to pull her in closer, like she’d change her mind about kissing him. She never did, but it was better than nice to feel his want, his need. She lifted her hands to touch his hair. Shit, to keep his mouth on hers.

  Like they had picked up where they had left off in their last groping session, he grazed his hand over her breast. When would the man stop testing the waters like they were teens and just plunge? She guided his hand to her breast to squeeze it. She scooted to the edge of the counter. He groaned, his hips pressing into hers.

  Testing the waters, she pulled at the top button of his jeans. He made no move to stop her as she slipped her hand into his pants to cup his cock. His groans only deepened.

  This was what she had wanted before the train skidded off the tracks, and now he was willing. She continued to stroke him through his underwear as he brushed his thumbs over her nipples like he knew what to do to get her off. But they had been here before with groping and kissing. She had no doubt they’d stop again when the end was just one dick stroke away from the finish.

  So she reveled in the way his ha
nds roamed to her waist, her breasts and face. Was she frustrated? Yes. Her libido was in good working order. Did she want to pressure him like any of the boys who had done that to her? No.

  Her heart spiked when his fingers fumbled over her jeans button. She rubbed the heel of her hand over his cock until his boxers dampened. Diego growled at her. She smiled against his mouth, then nipped his bottom lip.

  “Like that?” she asked.

  “Love that.”

  He didn’t add the caveat “too much” as a sign that he’d need to stop soon. Her head swam and she scooted to the edge of the counter to help his fingers find a home in her panties. A thought skittered along the back of her mind. She tried to ignore it but the thought only got louder.

  She broke the kiss.

  He grunted his displeasure.

  “If I take these off,” she said, “don’t make me put them back on.”

  He closed his eyes before he rested his forehead on hers. “I can tell you how many copies of Arkam Horror or Monopoly or even Cosmic Encounter I have.”

  “Okay,” she said, confused about where he was going with this.

  He opened his eyes and looked pained. “But I can tell you without having to look that there isn’t a single condom in my store.”

  She kissed him again for at least a minute. “After our first kiss and grope at my house, I stocked up.”

  His dark eyes gleamed. “You’re like a dirty Girl Scout.”

  “You like it?”

  He blushed. “I love it.”

  The drive to her was house was long and tense. No matter how hot and heavy things had gotten in his shop, Taneesha had wanted his first time to be special. And it was. She couldn’t remember the last time her home was filled with laughter, but it was now, as she and Diego fought to get their clothes off. That involved awkward struggles with shirts, cursing at socks that refused to peel off, and an elbow or two in sensitive places when they fell into her bed.

  When they lay naked facing each other, Diego’s fingers climbed up and down her spine. Her legs were tangled with his while her belly and breasts stuck to his skin.

  “I’m telling myself this can’t be real,” he murmured along her temple as he pressed kisses to her face.