by M R Field
“Fine.” Her voice is restrained, and I sigh. After a day of being her normal miserable bastard boss, I’ve earned this.
“I’m just going to sit.” I lean slowly to the ground, using my free hand to reach out. My satchel swings while the strap loosens and the same hand reaches up to stop it, causing my hip to overcorrect itself. The burning pain in my side rips through me.
“Fuckin’ hell!” I hiss as I sit on the ground. I squeeze my eyes shut to distract from the pain. I need Voltaren, an Antarctic ice bath, and maybe some scotch on the rocks.
“Whoa!” Leticia moves closer to me, and I look up to find her only a few inches away. “You okay?” Her arms move out to point to my body. “Why the hell didn’t you say you were hurt?”
“I thought my torn bike gear was obvious,” I groan, shifting until I’m more comfortable. If my old teammates saw me, they’d laugh. A small crash in a car park was nothing compared to the terrains we used to ride on, where your skin could become a human grater against the harsh bitumen.
“Not that, you idiot. You’re obviously more hurt than you’re letting on. You’ve probably
broken something.”
“Not broken, just bruised. Done this before. Forgot to take painkillers this afternoon. Body is just seizing up. I’ll be fine.”
“The kit is full of them,” she scolds, as she crouches next to me.
“I know. I was busy.” Too busy remembering the scent of your skin.
“Yeah, I noticed.” She raises her eyebrow as her hand goes on her hip. Miss Attitude in
the lift tonight. I’d mimic her gesture, but it hurts too much.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I challenge.
“Nothing.” She looks down at her hand and pretends to assess her nails. The ones she
bites.
“Bullshit.”
Her eyes raise to mine, and I stare back in challenge. She stares back defiantly.
I continue to hold eye contact when I lean a little forward, pained hip be damned, and say, “I dare you.”
For a moment, her face softens as her mouth parts, but as soon as it appears it disappears, her lips pressing together as she glares back. Her chin lifts and she declares, “You were an arsehole today.”
Bam! There we have it folks.
“I know,” I agree, nodding.
She flinches in surprise and narrows her eyes at me. “You know? That’s it? Not even going to try and mask it?”
“Nope. I was an idiot and should never have been. I let the situation get the better of me.”
“Huh. Fancy that? The CEO admits he’s wrong, and I didn’t catch it on tape.”
“I’ll be sure to have the transcript emailed to you tonight so you can put it on our next
meeting agenda.”
“I’ll make sure to do a spell check.”
Damn. She’s onto me. A light giggle from her lips fills the elevator, and the beat in my chest thumps heavily. I remember that laugh. I tried for hours as a kid to make it sound as much as I could. Parker used to give me shit for it afterwards. He liked referring to Letty as jailbait. Letty was the child, but Leticia is the woman.
She turns to kick out her legs to sit beside me, crossing her ankles, and I notice yet again what a woman she is now. She isn’t still, though; she fidgets a little as I try to keep still. My phone sits between us, but the beam is too strong. Making eye contact with her is impossible. Her perfume tempts me though. Sweet berries fill my nostrils, and my mouth waters. Maybe not being able to look at her is for the best. I know every detail of her face with or without any light. Tonight, I’ll probably fall asleep dreaming of her tasting like an exotic fruit.
The light fades slightly as her hand lays across the phone. “We might go blind in here, boss. I’ll just keep my hand here.”
An idea comes to me, and I reach out and grab my phone from her, my fingers touching hers in the process. So soft. Just like her leg earlier this morning. How do women do it?
My pants tighten and I clear my throat, willing myself to calm down as I don’t want her to notice. I don’t know what I’ll do if she asks me what this morning was all about. How I’m struggling to control my attraction to her, and I’m too much of a hot and cold bastard to function around her.
I tap into the phone, looking for the program and feeling relieved that it’s keeping me busy, while the light is now a lot softer. After a few taps, the room lights up differently with an array of constellations. Gentle instrumental music sounds with soft rays of blue, purples, and greens circulating around the room amongst the planets.
“Wow.” Her voice raises slightly. “This is super cool!”
Her hand raises through the light, and the edge of a planet touches her palm. She chuckles and puts her hand down. She looks down at her lap for a moment as the lights twirl across her body in a myriad of colours. She was hypnotic before, but now even more entrancing.
“I was pretty impressed. I use it sometimes to help me sleep,” I admit, for once not feeling like I need to hold a wall up.
“I can see why.”
I look over at her and watch her eyes follow the lights around the room.
“Feels like you’re in your own little world surrounded by all these planets,” she says.
“I can turn on the names of them if you want,” I offer, but she shakes her head, shifting on the spot.
“I like it like this.”
We sit in comfortable silence for a minute, before I hear her ask, “Do the ladies like this?”
My mouth pitches upward at her blatant curiosity. Looking at the hues of colour that trace our bodies and the room, you’d think this was some sort of date. I’ve never been romantic for anyone, but something tells me I’d go all out for her.
“I’m afraid I’ve never tried this. Don’t think my ex would have cared. She was more into the latest bargain at the factory outlet than this sort of stuff.”
“Oh,” Leticia mumbles. “Did I ever meet her?”
My stomach drops a little at the vulnerability in her voice. I don’t think she even realises when she’s like this. As teenagers, she met all my friends. Yet, as adults, there is so much we don’t know about each other.
“No, we only dated a few months, and I didn’t want her at work functions. She got whiny if I wasn’t paying attention to her. Kind of a bit like how that guy Tom was with you.”
She baulks a little, and I curl my fingers into a fist, pissed at being so obvious. “Oh, he was so clingy and needy.” Her hand covers her face and she moans between her fingers. “I was hoping no one noticed, but you all did.”
“We’ve all been there,” I shrug. “Some more than others. Mum hated Brandi.”
“No way!” Leticia’s eyes light up as a huge grin spreads across her face.
“Of course she did.” Mum always wanted me to date you. But I don’t tell her that. “She thought she was a stuck-up cow, if memory serves right.”
Plus, she gave me not-so-subtle comments telling me to dump her.
“Dude, she totally hated her because of her name. All the rest was icing.” She moves a little next to me, and we make eye contact and laugh.
“Yeah, probably,” I agree. Her legs tilt to the side again as her mouth tenses, and I curse myself for forgetting about her injury. “Is your knee still sore? You know, I feel pretty rotten about—.”
She frowns and shakes her head vigorously. “No, it’s not that.” She glances away before puffing out a breath of frustration. “I need to pee. Like, really, really badly.”
“Curl your toes,” I blurt, her eyes coming back to mine. “Really, curl them.”
She nods and I look down as she kicks off her flats and curls her painted toes.
“Shit, it’s not hurting your knee, is it?”
“It’s fine. Stop reminding me!” She bristles, and it reminds me of the times I used to scare her with ghost stories.
“I’ll not torture you with thoughts about water and puddles and—”
I freeze from her touch and move forward into her hand, causing my hip to sting. “Shit,” I hiss. She immediately sits back, concern littering her face.
“I have painkillers in my bag. They should help. They’re great for cramps if you have them, too.” She winks, and I shake my head, but hold out my hand in acceptance. My hand is the only thing that separates us.
“Hand them over, nurse.” My groin tightens at the thought of her dressing up for me like a nurse. I’d make plans to be injured or sick every day.
Rustling through her bag, she hands me the box, and I pop out two tablets before giving it back to her. I’m about to toss them in my mouth when a water bottle is thrust into my face. “Oi! Your nurse says to have water with them.”
I look at her bottle and hesitate for a moment as my thoughts turn dirty. Her lips have been on here. So many times, I’ve watched her take a sip and then fucked up whatever it was I was doing on my laptop. Every bloody time.
“I don’t have germs, you big baby. We used to share drinks all the time as kids.”
I blink in confusion and then realise that she mistook my pause for me being a germaphobe.
“All right.” I accept the bottle and then toss the tablets in my mouth before taking a big swig. Being next to her has dried my throat, so I naturally continue to take a few more sips before stopping and then wiping my chin to collect the lone drop of water I’ve missed.
Yet, as I hold the bottle in my lap, I know there’s another thing I’ve missed. Her deep blue eyes, staring at my mouth as she bites her bottom lip. Fuck. I know that look. It’s the same one I have, every time I look at her.
My hand clenches the bottle, and I lift my free hand to touch her face. Her hair brushes against my fingers, and I crave to weave each curl within them and draw her closer. I stroke my thumb against her cheek as her breath catches, and all that I want and need builds in within my chest. I stroke her cheek, knowing that my fingers tremble from everything that she does to me and more.
“Letty,” I breathe, feeling that wall crumble between us.
I can’t touch her and not taste her. I need to taste her. Turning to face her, I’m about to move closer when the bright yellow light of the elevator illuminates and blinds me momentarily, and the cart begins to descend. Leticia jerks back, and my hand instantly releases as she pushes herself to stand. She’s eager to get away from me. She doesn’t trust me. Why would she?
I blink a few times to adjust to the brightness and feel my eyes water slightly. That light is bright. I grab my phone to break eye contact and turn the planets off to then stand slowly myself, keeping my face as neutral as possible to avoid her seeing my discomfort. Now that the light is on, it feels like she sees more of me than I want her to.
She steps ahead of me and grabs my satchel to hand to me.
“Thanks.” My voice croaks. Way to play it cool, dickhead.
“No problem.”
I stand next to her as she squirms. The doors to the basement open, but I hold out an arm to stop her, leaning forward to hit the ground-floor button. “There’s toilets there, next to this lift.”
She smiles in relief, and my gut gets sucker punched.
A little while later, we make our way through the basement car park, and I head over to my bike.
“How are you getting home?” Leticia calls out to me.
“Taxi. I’ll just take off my wheels for it to fit.”
“Save your cash. I’ll give you a lift. Odette’s RAV4 is big enough for your bike.” She bleeps her key fob to unlock the car and tosses her bag in before walking over to me. I don’t even have it in me to refuse. She could ask for anything, and I’d tell her yes right now.
We load my bike into the back after folding down the seat, and I step into her car. The scent of daisies and wildflowers fill the cabin. Even her car smells like her.
I give her my address and watch the traffic glide by as we weave through the city. The sun has begun to set, and for once I can enjoy it without worrying I’m about to be cleaned up by a driver.
“You set for dinner?” she asks, and I feel that same pang of guilt. I have been the biggest dick to her, and yet she’s asking me about food. Surely I can be professional at work without being a tosser. I need to change my ways, for her.
“I’m good. Made a roast last night, so have enough for me and Duke.”
“Your housemate?” She turns onto the freeway, and I chuckle.
“My dog.”
She looks over to me briefly in surprise. “You have a dog? What type?”
“Chocolate Labrador who is four years old but still acts like a puppy. He likes to chew my boots and dig up dead possums.”
“Oh, he sounds adorable, until the last bit.”
“Yeah, he likes to show his unconditional love for me with presents at the back door. Hasn’t understood that he’s the worst gift-giver ever.”
Leticia’s laughter rings through the car, and I take a moment to enjoy it.
“I remember our dog, Buff, who we took down to your house. He loved the beach…” Her voice softens. “And Kevin.”
My chest tightens, yet as my body prepares to take a breath to ease the usual ache, I find it isn’t there.
“I’m so-rry,” she stammers. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“You didn’t.” My hands rub up my legs, this new feeling confusing me. The sadness isn’t there, but a wistful admiration is. “It’s good to talk about him. Mum’s birthday is coming up, so he’ll be mentioned a fair bit. We want him to be remembered.”
“He definitely is.” Her hand shifts from the steering wheel to hold mine still. I grip it back and sigh. I can’t get over this connection I have with her. What I’ve always felt. But if I don’t move on from the past, and learn to forgive, I will have nothing in the future.
We arrive at my place, and the car lingers in the driveway.
“You feel like roast lamb? I have plenty.”
She bites her lip, hesitates, and then shakes her head.
Yep. Absolutely does not trust me.
“Rain check. I promised Piper I’d watch crappy reality TV with her and eat take away. Would love to meet Duke sometime, though,” she says, and I smile.
“Of course.” I open the door and head to the back, not realising she’s followed to help. Once my bike is down, I’m about to wheel it to the side when I blurt, “I’m so sorry for this morning.” Her mouth tightens, as a wave of hurt covers her face. “I didn’t see you in the car park, and I really didn’t mean to run into you.”
I watch her features loosen. She thought I meant the bathroom.
Never am I apologising for that.
“Thank you, but I’m fine. Enjoy your night, Cole.” She goes to walk back up the side of her vehicle when I call out to her. When she turns, my breath catches at her beauty.
“I’m sorry that I’m a miserable bastard. I’ll work on it in the future.”
Leticia’s eyes widen in shock, as a small smile graces her luscious lips. “You do that. It would be nice to see fun Cole again.”
She hops into the car, and I step to the side, wheeling my bike up the path to the sound of an overexcited, barking dog. I wave as she takes off down my street, and I watch until I can no longer see her tail lights. Whether or not I am ready to accept whatever it is I am feeling for her, I need to get the bitter shit out and fixed soon. As I turn the key into my house, it feels empty. What I need to make it complete just drove away.
Letty
My hand is covered in flecks of paint across my skin and under my fingernails from the canvas I’ve been working on this evening. This week, I’ve spent each night after work locked away in the spare room, sketching and now painting, and Piper has gotten frustrated with my hermit act. Normally while I have projects underway, I make pit stops and chat to her for a catch-up, but this time I purposely haven’t. Not even her chocolate stash has been able
to persuade me out.
I’ve eaten quick dinners in my art room, gazing at my artwork to try to dilute thoughts of the past week. The familiar ache of stress doesn’t linger across my bones. Instead, I feel rejuvenated and intrigued, yet very, very confused.
Cole has been polite to me all week.
He’s not shown one ounce of his regular dickheadedness. Instead, when he’s needed to speak to me, his tone has been almost sincere. The only thing that remains the same is the clicking of his pen. I’d hoped he would be up to the new ones by now.
I’m surprised at him trying to be normal again and if it will be permanent. A tight locking of my pulse alerts me to the feelings I buried so long ago, ones I fear will resurface if the old Cole is back. So, I've been hiding to try to cover my emotions, as I know Piper will be all over it in a bid to see us together if she suspects a thing. I blame her penchant for watching the trashiest of the trashiest TV shows while on her wannabe romantic streak.
Piper barges into the room, disrupting my listening to Ed Sheeran. I can’t hide anymore. She’s a creature of habit. We were supposed to watch a few brainless reality TV shows, but I’ve been avoiding her.
Tonight, I am given a five-minute warning and told to be on the couch for wine time. I can’t avoid her forever. Yet, I linger for a tad bit longer, coming out of the room ten minutes later just to be silly.
“So, let me get this straight.” Piper hands me a glass of wine as she sits on the couch, curling her legs under her. “Cole is acting normal?”
Her pose changes as I fill her in on my non-eventful week. Her shoulders turn to face me, to assume her judgment pose. She’s not buying into what I’ve told her. On the outside, she may appear relaxed, but I know better. She’s ready to attack if need be. Her bullshit meter is ready to detect anything hidden.
Her green eyes trace over my face, assessing me. “You’ve spent the better part of this week avoiding talking to your boss?” She sips her wine, watching my face for any details that I’ve missed but have yet to tell her, while her hand drapes over her bent knees, tapping from her pinkie finger to her index.
“Sort of.” I sip my wine and savour the taste. I’d love a cosmopolitan, but then Piper would know for sure how much Cole is affecting me. Vodka is my therapist. After a weird week, I’m surprised I’m not pouring a double.
