The One I Love

by Mia Ford

  Maybe I can fix this. I walk over to the bathroom and sit down on the floor leaning my back against the wall.

  “Addy,” I say and lightly knock. “Are you okay?”

  “Yes, you don’t have to stay. Really, it’s okay if you leave Charlie, I’m sorry I’m such a freak.”

  “You said you didn’t know what you were doing,” I say tentatively, “did you mean you’re still uhm, untouched.” Saying the word virgin to a twenty-four-year-old woman seems ridiculous to me, but I know it’s not out of the realm of possibility.

  It’s just she is so sexy I don’t know how nobody has gotten into her pants yet. The thought that I was almost the first person to go where nobody had been before makes me horny all over again.

  The door opens and she walks out. “Of course, not Charlie. I just got out of a serious relationship and I’m not sure I’m ready for what was about to happen.”

  She is speaking with an authoritative tone, but she won’t look at me. This leads me to believe she is lying right now. I can’t believe it. She really is still a virgin and she’s trying so hard to make me think otherwise. No wonder the little scenario happened earlier. She threw herself at me so she wouldn’t keep thinking about what she was about to do. It all makes sense now. I should have somehow figured it out and slowed things down.

  If it saves her feelings, I’ll play along for now. I just won’t let her get back into a position to give me blue balls again. I’m going to have to take cold showers for an entire month to get rid of the ache I currently have. But I remember her voice and how she had made me feel and realize it will be worth it. It feels like so long since I was innocent it's nice to see the world through her eyes. She is going to be my ticket to the top, and I won’t have to worry about my money coming from dear old dad.

  “Okay, Addy, whatever you say. You ready to go eat. We can pretend that didn’t happen and just have a regular business meeting. The last thing I want is to be your rebound guy,” I tell her. With her taste still on my lips making me crave more. I remind myself and my dick this is business and to stop thinking of anything else.

  She nods but still doesn’t look my way. I watch as she pulls on her a shapeless sweater that does nothing to diminish how sexy she is and walks to the door.

  Does she think if she looks at me I’ll come after her again for sex? What kind of man does she think I am? Or is she afraid she will come after me? I remember her voicemail from so many years ago. How angry she sounded when she called me oversexed. This game might be fun to play if one of us doesn’t get hurt in the end. The issue is I have to keep her happy and committed to sing with me or all my plans fall apart.

  Maybe I should stop this game before it even starts. It would be the smart thing to do. But if we’re going to be singing together and to each other, the sexual tension will be good for the music.

  “I have a song I’ve been thinking we can start with that I’ve written. I have the pages in the truck so you can look at them on the way to the restaurant.” I tell her. Wanting her attention back on me.

  Finally, she turns her pretty brown eyes on me. “Really, you write your music too?”

  “Yes, I do. You have to make it anymore. Unless you’re Beyoncé or something.” I laugh at my own stupid joke. I’m sensitive about letting people read anything I write, but I don’t want her to know that. Secretly, I hope she really likes my lyrics.

  “Who said I agreed to sing with you. This was a business meeting for you to try and convince me this is a good idea. Remember?”

  “Well, we just proved we work well together.” I think we’ve surpassed business meeting and this has turned into a date, but who am I to know?

  Her face turns bright red and I can’t help but smile. I hope she is remembering my lips all over her under her dress because I know that’s what all she be thinking about for the rest of the night.

  “Just remember I haven’t agreed to anything yet. I don’t like singing in front of crowds and I don’t think I will ever want to be famous.”

  “All I ask is you keep an open mind. We can work something out, and you can get over your stage fright. I will help you. Your voice needs to be heard.”

  “I said I would listen that’s why we're going, but I don’t think you are going to be able to convince me.” She pulls her bottom lip with her teeth and I hold in my groan. She is going to be super difficult and just that simple act shot lust through me.

  “Well if you don’t think I’m going to be able to get you to sing with me I guess there is no reason for you to read my song.”

  Her head whips around so she can stare at me. Game on.

  “No, you should let me see what you've written. It will help me decide if this is going to be worth it. I don’t want to sing just any song.”

  I smile at her and wink. We both know she just fell into my trap and she is stuck.

  We get to my truck and I open the door for her, helping her in. I try to ignore the beautiful way her dress flutters around her legs or the way she crosses her ankles as she gets situated in the seat. She really is different from the other girls I’m around. Savannah would have been trying to give me road head after doing a line of my dashboard. I kind of stifle a chuckle at the contrast.

  “Such a gentleman,” Ada smiles.

  “Hey, I try,” giving her my award-winning smile. I close the door and take my time walking around the back of the truck. Before I get to the driver’s side, I quickly re-adjust my still rock-hard cock. Even though the mood was dead and gone, my mini-me didn’t get the notice. He’s still primed and ready to go.

  Taking a deep breath, I open my door and climb in. Her smile is beautiful and it sends a ping right through my chest. I need to watch out, or I may be in more trouble than I was anticipating.

  On the way to the restaurant, Ada reads my music and I must admit, I’m more than just a little nervous. She’s quiet as she reads it and I have glanced at her a hundred times trying to determine what she thinks by her facial expressions.

  After parking the truck, I help her down and we walk to the restaurant entrance. It’s a nice Italian place I wouldn’t bring just anyone to. Thomas told me I needed to get her on our side tonight so I was pulling out all the stops. I hope she appreciates it. I admire her backside in the dress. I’d been so close to getting off her as she walks in front of me and I shake my head. Yep, I’m in trouble.

  “So, what did you think?” I can’t hold it in anymore. She’d read over it without saying a word the whole way over and the anticipation is killing me. I find myself really caring what she thinks. I can’t explain why, but her opinion is important to me.

  “I think I need to hear it with the music to know if I can sing it with you,” she says.

  She didn’t deny singing it with me so I took that as a plus, but it still didn’t answer my question. We take our seats at the table and the waitress brings bread and water.

  “I mean what do you think of the lyrics?” I try not to let her see how desperate I am for her opinion.

  “I like the lyrics, but.” She hesitates not wanting to continue talking and busies herself with her bread.

  “No don’t hold back Ada, I want to know. I don’t let a lot of people read my stuff when I first write it. So, your opinion means something because I don’t have very many people to give it to me.”

  She thinks as she picks her bread apart. I know it’s going to be hurtful if she’s taking this long to tell me what she thinks. She puts each piece in the oil and vinegar and watches it soak up.

  “It’s a good song Charlie, I just don’t think there’s any emotion behind it. I just feel like you can dig deeper and do so much better.”

  “I worked really hard on that song,” I’m defensive. “It’s about someone who used to be special to me.”

  “Okay,” she holds her hands up as if she surrendering. She shoves bread in her mouth as if to stop herself from saying more, but now she has my curiosity up.

  “I’m sorry. I’m protective of
my work. I want to know what you really think. How’s it read to you?”

  “Are you sure?” She asks once she finishes chewing.

  I take a deep breath. Do I really want to hear what she has to say? “Yes.” The waitress comes back to take our order and we both keep it simple with spaghetti and meatballs.

  “The way it reads to me is you were sexually attracted to this girl for the summer. You went out of your way to have sex with her and you were successful and it was a lustful relationship and it ended there.”

  “It wasn’t all sex,” I say, but truthfully, it was. It was one hell of a summer if I were being honest. But I’m not going to tell her that. Although it doesn’t seem to matter she was able to get that much from the lyrics themselves.

  “I mean I think you may have actually used a line that talked about the sheets or between the sheets. If that’s the message you want to send, that’s fine. I just don’t know how you expect me to sing something like that with you.”

  I think about what she said for a minute. It doesn’t really make sense for her to sing the song with me. I was thinking she would take a verse and change the words a little, make it something we could both have an attachment to. Now, I’m rethinking everything I’ve ever written.

  “Well, I’m glad you think my work has no meaning,” I say a little harsher than I mean. “If you’ll excuse me.”

  I go to the bathroom to wash my hands and gather my thoughts. I don’t want to snap at her again. It’s not her fault. I asked her for her real opinion. I’m just too sensitive about my work. When you put your whole self into something you don’t want someone criticizing it.

  I need this though, I tell myself. I need someone to call me on my bullshit and I need someone to help me make my work better. Thomas knew what he was doing by getting Ada involved, I just needed to stop being a little bitch. Music was always my passion and if I was going to make it, I needed to get a thicker skin when it came to my work.

  I am making a decision right now that I must do whatever I can to make her my partner. When I go back to the table, I need to be charming and convincing this is the right move for her.

  Chapter Nine

  Ada

  I can’t believe he just snapped at me like that. Had I realized he was that sensitive about his work, maybe I would have taken a different approach. I should have realized he was going to take offense I just talked bad about his baby. What was I thinking? I feel like it would be the equivalent of someone talking about my students or my teaching curriculum.

  I shove bread in my mouth and picture it going straight to my hips. If I’m going to let him see me naked I should probably eat kale and more kale only. That’s if he would even want to see me naked after my insane breakdown. And maybe I should just keep it business. It seems that I am swaying toward singing with him. What do they always say? Don’t mix business with pleasure.

  The thought of him seeing more of me later excites and terrifies me, though. Can I really keep him away? My cheeks heat up at the memory. I don’t think he bought that I’m not a virgin. The confidence I pretended to have wasn’t convincing at all.

  Now he’s been in the bathroom awhile and I wonder just how angry he is at me. The salads come out and despite my earlier thought about eating better, I ask for an extra ranch. I’m a stress eater, and nothing is better than healthy food drenched in unhealthy food.

  He comes back to the table and sits grabbing his napkin and fluffing it before putting it in his lap. He picks up a knife and fork and starts to cut his salad. The whole thing seems so proper I can’t help but laugh.

  Charlie is looking at me like I’m insane and with a good reason. “What’s so funny?”

  “You, with your proper table manners. Did you go to etiquette classes?”

  “I did, my mother made me go.” He says it with surprise that I hadn’t had any. Now I feel dumb for assuming he was just being pretentious.

  I look down at my salad drenched in dressing and some of it has found its way onto the table. Compared to him I’m eating like an animal. I put my fork down and compose myself.

  “So, I don’t really understand why you need me to sing with you. You can write your own songs and you’re a good-looking guy. That’s basically the criteria for a success story. Tell me where I come in. Why I’m needed.” I pick up my fork and try to stab a small bite so it will go in my mouth without making a scene.

  “You think I’m good-looking?” He grins and my stomach flips around.

  He is a very handsome man with his wicked green eyes and well maintained styled hair. Any woman would be lucky enough to be out with him, to have his mouth on theirs. To have his mouth on their body. Suddenly my body warms up and I feel an ache low in my stomach. I tell it to stop with its ridiculous urges and shove two cucumbers into my mouth.

  “Stop being modest. You know that you are. I don’t attack just anyone on my couch. They have to at least be good looking for me to maul them.” I take a large bite of salad proud that my voice didn’t crack.

  He laughs and winks at me while I chomp on my salad trying not to make a scene. “So, tell me. Why does Thomas think you two need me?”

  “I’m not relatable because I’m rich. People will see me as someone with money, they’ll think I bought my way up the charts somehow. Thomas is having a hard time getting them to connect with me, and he thinks you will help with that. Honestly, I do too.”

  “There have to be successful singers that were rich before they went into show business.” I try to think of an example and come up with nothing. “And I don’t think you are giving yourself credit. You are very likable.”

  “Well, Thomas is the one who knows the business. He’s the one who is calling the shots for me. I’ve tried it on my own, for a long time now. If he says we need you, then I need you.”

  He looks me in the eyes and the way he says it gets the storm raging in my stomach all worked up again.

  I decide to go back to my food. I’ve been watching him spin his pasta on the fork using the spoon. I concentrate all my energy on doing that correctly. Nailed it! I exclaim in my head grinning at the fork like an idiot. I take a triumphant bite and then somehow manage to lean forward and put my elbow in my bowl of oil and vinegar.

  He raises an eyebrow and I leave my elbow there. What’s the point of making a huge deal about it? I feel all the delicious little spices stuck on my arm. Slowly I raise the arm and catch the oil with my napkin. I think I’ve pulled off playing it off when the waitress appears from nowhere.

  “I’ll get you some oil and vinegar your arm hasn’t been in ma’am,” she says and whisks the little bowl away.

  Charlie is laughing at me. Without thinking about it I throw a meatball at him. It misses as he dodges it and lands on the lap of the woman sitting behind him. Somehow it went over her head and fell into her lap and she didn’t notice. My cheeks burn red and he’s laughing so hard now he’s crying.

  I hope the woman ordered spaghetti and meatballs so she’ll think she’s the one that dropped the meatball and reserve myself to be less childlike for the rest of dinner. I am a teacher after all. What would my kids think of me acting this way? Even though I’m chastising myself I can’t stop grinning like a fool with Charlie.

  When Charlie gets his laughter under control he pins me with his gaze. “So, let’s talk high school, you weren’t ever in any of the clubs and plays I was in,” he says.

  “Well, you were only in everything, but I was in a play with you. You’ve just forgotten my epic performance.”

  He looks puzzled and asks, “Which one. I’m sorry but I don’t remember you being in a play with me.”

  “Well, it was the talk of the school.” I am acting pretty cocky and I have no clue why.

  “Enlighten me, please.”

  Sitting up straight I prepare to wow him with a story about my best performance ever.

  “I played a bush. You literally put your foot on me when you were skipping around the stage playing Puck in Midsumm
ers.”

  He looks at me as if he’s trying to remember. “I didn’t skip.”

  “That’s all you have to say. I’m hurt you don’t remember how well my strong back took your foot on it. And you did skip.”

  “I thought I put my foot on a rock. It was a manly skip.”

  I can’t help it as I throw a piece of bread at him this time and nearly die as it ends up hitting a man as he walks by the table. Somehow the carbohydrate gods are with me and he doesn’t feel it.

  It’s easy for me to forget why we’re here when I’m having fun. We have to talk about the singing though. It is the main reason he’s back in my life.

  “So, tell me, Charlie. Why music?”

  “What do you mean Addy, music is everything? It’s my life. There was never a choice. It was and always will be music.”

  I try to think of a way to word it that won’t offend him but will get across what I mean.

  “Okay but why do you want to pursue it like this, I mean try to go big or whatever?”

  “It’s the only thing I’m passionate about. It’s the only thing I want to do. I want to leave my mark on this world and not just because I inherited a company from my father.”