Freeform

by Xavier Neal

  We haven't met before. I never forget a face. Especially not one like hers. Hell...now that I'm staring I don't think there's anything about her I could forget. Wow. Is it extra hot out here? Did the temperature go up already?

  “Are you Tucker Frost?”

  I give her a crooked smirk. “Are you Laka? My goddess of love and beauty?”

  The brown skinned angel's face immediately flushes. Her mouth starts moving though no words immediately follow. It takes longer than I expect, but she eventually announces, “I-I-I-I'm here for you.”

  All of a sudden there's a sharp twist in the pit of my stomach.

  Whoa...what is that?

  “No, I mean I'm here to ride you.” Panic paints itself in her eyes as her mouth bobs, tripping over words she's not speaking. “Shit. No.” She waves her arms in the process of trying to explain and ends up bumping her elbow. “Ou...I meant....I'm here to give you a ride to your condo. Your aunt sent me.”

  My eyes drink in her exposed shapely legs underneath the tight black skirt she's wearing.

  Yet, I liked her idea of her riding me better than her giving me a ride. At least she doesn't look like the mini spin off versions of my aunt, I usually meet. To say constant clones of my aunt aren't obnoxious would be a lie. I'm not a fan of doing that despite how harsh the truth may be.

  The female quickly regains her composure and begins to walk towards me at the same time I do her. “I'm June Bailey. I'm your aunt's assistant. I-” is all that finishes coming out of her mouth before she trips over the edge of the sidewalk.

  In one swift motion, I help catch her before she can completely hit the ground.

  Knocked plenty of women off their feet, but not quite like this.

  Once she's steady again, she politely says, “Thanks. My feet are always working against me.”

  “You're like a June bug.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “They're a little clumsy on the ground. Always in the air.”

  She gives me a displeased look. “Why do I feel like I was just insulted?”

  With a simple shrug, I reply, “Not real sure. I love June bugs. They taste delicious.”

  Her face morphs from irritation to horror. “You've eaten them?!”

  “Yeah. You roast 'em over coal, give 'em a little salt, and they taste just like popcorn.”

  Why are you gagging? Have you ever had a roasted June Bug? Precisely. Don't judge. You don't know. You might actually like it. I crave them every once in a while when I'm watching a movie.

  “Okay...” June backs up slowly, disgust still dancing on her face. “That's weird.”

  “Just because something is unusual to you doesn't make it weird.”

  “That's actually the definition of weird.”

  Her sassy comeback makes me smile wider. “Fair enough. I guess I just meant Fate will lead you to some really amazing things if you let her.”

  June lifts her eyebrows. “Her? You think Fate is a her?”

  “Of course. She's sexy, mysterious, loving, and a bitch at times for unknown reasons to anyone besides herself. But at the end of it all, I like to believe she has a beautiful cosmic intention that will always provide the best for everyone.”

  Think whatever you want. That's one of the best parts of life. We're all entitled to interpret what we're dealt in different ways. Not only is every culture different, but even the individuals within it view the bigger picture of life in various ways. You should take the time to defend yourself less and listen more. Some stories are worth hearing...I've painted many of them.

  She gives me a slow nod. “Why don't we get going? Do you need me to take your bag?”

  I clutch it closer to me. “I've got it.”

  Can honestly say that's one downside to traveling that I've learned. Never let anyone else handle your luggage. Was robbed twice before. That lesson from Fate stuck.

  The two of us slide into her black sedan and she announces, “It is my job from now until your mother's reception to assist you in any way you might need.”

  After buckling my seat belt, I give June's frame another examination. From her legs to her ample chest, she packs curves and smooth edges like a priceless stone found in the river. The one that's even more stunning when wet.

  In every single way.

  She continues while backing out of the parking lot, “Groceries. Entertainment. Errands. You name it. Basically, I am here to serve you.”

  The sexual image shifts the bag in my lap.

  She's making this hard. Well, that too. But I meant her word choice.

  “I'm capable of doing things myself, you know. I'm not some pathetic rich prick who can't manage to tie his own shoes.”

  We pull up to the stop light and she gives me a hard look, her light brown eyes struggling to look stern rather than intrigued. “According to my boss, you're a huge flight risk.”

  “Sometimes it's flight. More often it's by bus or train.”

  Not really picky, but trains and buses typically have more fascinating people on them. One day I'll have to show you some of the sketches of the people I've met.

  “Exactly. And it's my job to make sure you stay in town.”

  “For my mother's reception.”

  Which I will not be going to despite the fact my aunt has already convinced herself that I will.

  “Precisely.”

  “So, no car for you. Or scooter. Or bicycle. Or roller blades.”

  Does it look like she's going over a checklist in her head or is it just me?

  “Or a skateboard.”

  “I got it, June Bug. Nothing with wheels.”

  “You need something, any time, day or night, all you have to do is call and I'll be there.”

  Helplessly, I add sexual undertone to my question, “Anything I need?”

  June's bottom lip slips between her teeth.

  Bet I could show that lip a thing or two.

  All of sudden someone honks their horn behind us and she jumps banging her arm on the door. “Ou...”

  “You really are like a June bug.”

  She quietly mumbles, “Not sure I like the nickname.”

  “Not sure it matters.”

  A small look of surprise comes across her. “You...you heard that?”

  “I've got ears.”

  “No one ever hears me.”

  “Well I will. I'll always listen. I'm good at that.”

  Very good in fact. Wanna know a secret? Most people are only interested in telling their own story rather than hearing yours. Luckily for me, I prefer life that way.

  She tries not to smile as she states, “I'll be taking you to the condo your aunt is renting you, which isn't too far from the office. There's a planned dinner with your family later this week. Once I've secured the details, I'll give you the information needed. Do you need me to stop anywhere before I take you to the condo?”

  “No.” The idea of trying to survive dinner sets off a timer in my brain.

  Need to bail before then if at all possible....I've done a miraculous job of avoiding my mother every time I come to town. I don't plan to break tradition.

  My eyes admire the city outline, my family's legacy dead center like it's the heartbeat. I lift my finger to lightly trace the buildings in the air. Each motion is fluid and every structure unique.

  I may constantly be leaving this place, but it doesn't change the indisputable allure the city has. Do you know how many times I've tried to capture its essence? No sculpture, drawing, or painting has ever done it justice. It's almost as if no matter how much time I put into creating a work to resemble it, something is always missing. Maybe this time while I'm here I can figure out just what that is. Maybe that's why Fate isn't pushing me to leave so quickly. Maybe for once, it'll let my greatest unfinished piece actually find peace.

  June

  I pedal faster on the stationary bike in hopes of burning away any lingering sexual tension.

  Did you see him yesterday? No. I mean did you really see
him? Tanned, toned, and basically one audition away from a role on Baywatch. I didn't even know they made men that tanned. What'd he do? Tan on the goddamn sun? Oh! And did you see his smile? The way it tugs a little higher to the left...I swear it alone would be worth losing my job over. Wait. No. I didn't mean that. I couldn't mean that. Nothing is worth losing my income over. I have rent to pay. Bills to pay. Groceries to buy. Student loans to hopefully stop drowning in. I have too many things to check off for a smile to be the reason I'm out on my ass. But...if I'm being honest with you, and only you, I've never seen a smile that makes me wanna spread my legs like my ankles are allergic to each other.

  The irritation over the situation moves my feet faster.

  Eight weeks of gawking and staring and drooling over the astonishing artistic anomaly isn't going to go well. I just know it. There's this ache in my chest as if trying to announce there are life altering consequences lingering in the background. Maybe there's some sort of pill I can take to at least dial back whatever it is he's naturally doing to my hormones. Any suggestions? Seriously, I will take anything necessary not to let my unused lady parts ruin the highest paid job I've ever had.

  “You okay?”

  The voice startles me out of my thoughts and my right foot slips off the pedal. It continues winding around knocking into my shin. “Ou...”

  She giggles and sheepishly apologizes, “Sorry.”

  “It's okay, Jaye. You know I'm clumsy.”

  She climbs onto the bike beside mine and begins to pedal slowly, pushing buttons then asks. “Probably didn't help that I scared you?”

  Probably not.

  “Just thought you heard me the first time.”

  I offer a smile. “Sorry. I was...lost in my own head.”

  Well, I was talking to you, but we're not gonna tell her that. We don't want her thinking we're crazy.

  “Work bothering you again?”

  “You could say that,” I mumble.

  “What's that crazy boss of yours got you doing this time? Nothing with baby goats again, right?”

  Long story, but let's just say they're not city animals and definitely not rooftop fans.

  “No. She's got me watching her nephew for the next couple of months.”

  “That doesn't sound so terrible. Unless you hate kids.”

  “Which I don't.”

  Her flawless face, lights up. “I love kids...I think I want Archer and I have to have a dozen someday.”

  That's a lot of kids. They're not one of those things that really are cheaper by the dozen. I hope she knows that.

  After gently patting my face dry, I sigh, “The problem is he's not a kid. He's a twenty-six year old tatted Greek God that I'm pretty sure even Zeus would be tempted to give Olympus over to based on his smile alone.” She begins to giggle and the rest of the words fly out of my mouth without waiting for me to give them more thought, “I don't know what I'm gonna do. One look at him and my brain turns to mush. Speaking in a way that makes sense is now a miracle. My brain basically goes back primal, lost in the jungle for too long, mouth click noises are now the only form of communication you know, kind of instinct. It's ridiculous.”

  She breaks out into more laughter this time hiding it behind her coffee colored hand.

  I don't have many friends outside of Jaye Jenkins and we haven't even been friends that long. I don't exactly have time to go searching out new people to hang out with. My time off is so sporadic it makes doing just about anything personal impossible. Not that there's anything personal I really wanna do anyway. I don't usually add a box for personal time outside of the gym or the occasional drink with Jaye who is equally as withdrawn as myself. We're not shy per-say, we just...have a tendency to keep to ourselves besides our loved ones. The two of us met one day during yoga class at the beginning of this year. One of those shared snickers at something ludicrous the instructor said. We were both the only two who snickered. Afterwards, we ended up talking for a bit at the juice bar. We did that up until a couple months ago when she suggested we branch out a bit. Most of the time she brings her sweet boyfriend along with her. It's not like I mind. He's an attractive, genuinely nice guy. Told her to find me one and she laughed like I was kidding. I was kidding....There's not room for a boyfriend in my life right now. No. Work. Family. Work. Gym. You can see the pattern. I would take casual sex at this point though. Look, I haven't had it in....in an amount of time that would grow back my virginity if that were scientifically possible. That's what this whole Tucker thing is about I'm sure. I'm just sexually deprived. Extremely sexually deprived. We're talking hallucinations that Chris Hemsworth is standing beside my bed asking me to be his Thor princess.

  Before the conversation can continue, my cell phone vibrates with a text from my boss.

  Boss: Cupcake. Chocolate. No icing with sprinkles.

  I roll my eyes at the message.

  What exactly are the sprinkles going to stick to?

  Boss: Pick up my bracelet from Elizabeth's too.

  “You okay?” Jaye's voice questions.

  The moment my mouth twitches to reply it vibrates again.

  123-555-8989: I need you to take me to get art supplies please.

  A heavy unhappy groan escapes. “Ugh. I have to go.”

  Good to see neediness is a family trait.

  She offers me a warm grin. “Try to have a good day at work. Maybe we can get dinner later this week?”

  “If Tucker is anything like Brandi, I wouldn't bank on it.”

  Another sympathetic smile if offered.

  I give her a wave and reply to both quickly.

  I can do this. This is what I get paid to do. Handle crazy demands at crazy times. I'm a professional. I'll treat Tucker the same way I do his aunt. I'm sure all the feelings of desperation for his mouth on mine, my neck, thighs, and lady lips will pass once I get used to his overbearing charm. And of course just as soon as I adjust my shower head to the setting that is known for vibrating away the lingering problem between my legs.

  **

  I enter the condo with the key I was given and innocently call out, “Hello?” Not receiving any immediate response, I stroll past the formal dining room table, around the corner, and past where the open kitchen and living room connect. In the new area, I cautiously repeat myself. “Um...Hello?”

  The echo of the empty one story condo stands up the hairs on the back of my neck.

  My voice weakly tries once more. “Tucker?”

  Why would he tell me he needs art supplies then disappear? Wait. You don't think he disappeared, disappeared do you? You don't think he's left already, right? Was the text just a distraction to buy himself some time to come up with an escape plan or to execute one? Holy shit! Oh no! Oh no...no no no! He couldn't have left already! Shit! What if he did?! What if he's gone?! How can I lose him already? He just fucking got here yesterday! We haven't even reached the one week point where extra precaution should be taken! Ugh. I'm really not in the mood to be fired today....Guess I could put job hunting on the list underneath picking up my mother's prescription.

  Frantically, I knock and open the door closest to me. The small empty bedroom looks untouched. I give it a quick extra examination looking for any possible proof Tucker may have been in it. After not finding any, I dart down the hall for the next door, repeating the process, swiftly but thoroughly. As I reach the door at the end of the hall, I say a mumbled prayer of hope under my breath and knock. When there's no answer, I open the door exposing another barren room. The emptiness inside it clogs my throat.

  I'm out of a job... I'm out of a pay check... I'm out of the art world... What the hell am I gonna do with an art history degree outside of art?

  I give the room a final look before opening the door to my right, assuming it's the bathroom connected. With the idea it's probably as abandoned like all the others, I enter with the same defeated expression only to find a surprise instead. My hands instantly fly over my mouth.

  Lord have mercy....Are you
kidding me!?! Was that the sound of my ovaries exploding or yours?

  I drop my hands to shriek, “Why are you naked?!”

  Tucker cocks a smirk, blue eyes shimmering with trouble. “Left my floaties in Hawaii.”

  My eyes give his wet, naked body another glance before my hands cover them.

  I couldn't fucking help it! He looks even more delicious wet! Those cut abs. Those perfect pecs. The happy trail that acts like a runway to his cock. Mmmm. No. I didn't actually see it...Do you really have to ask if I wanted to?