Pants On Fire

by Lacey Black

  “I did hear that,” I say as I hit the button for the fourth floor. I didn’t even get a chance to ask Cricket where her room was before she darted away without having to face Danny. “And I’m not sure about tonight. I’ll have to let you know,” I add casually.

  Truth be told, I’d be fine with just hanging out in my room and catching up on a little work. I’ll be behind after today’s travels, but nothing that I can’t wrap up quickly with a little computer time tonight. Of course, if I were to run into Cricket, I wouldn’t mind hanging out with her a bit either. Maybe grab a late night snack or hang out and catch up a little more. There’s still so much I’d like to know about the last decade, especially what led her to sitting in front of the camera instead of behind it.

  “You listening?” he asks, pulling me back to the now.

  “Oh, yeah. Sorry.” The elevator arrives on the fourth floor and I’m surprised when Danny follows me off. “You’re on this floor?” I ask.

  “Yep, just down hall,” he says when I stop in front of my room. “Well, I’ll let you get settled. Don’t think you’re going to spend your entire weekend working in your room. We’re hanging out like ol’ times,” he adds, the look he gives me leaves no room for argument.

  “I’ll see if I can get my work done tonight and let you know. If not, I mean, we’ll always have the game tomorrow,” I remind him.

  Danny’s tanned face lights up. “True that. I’m sure there’ll be tons of people at that game. Lots of hotties too,” he adds with a cocky smirk.

  I laugh at his comment, but more out of habit because if there’s one thing that Danny is good at, it’s women watching. And flirting. And sex. Though, as far as I know, he stopped the last part when he was with Cricket. Flirting, however, was a different kettle of fish. Danny was a born flirt and did so shamelessly, even when he dated Cricket. She didn’t seem to mind, though, at least that I ever noticed. She usually just rolled her eyes and smarted off to him.

  He heads to a room five or six doors down, on the opposite side of the hall, as I slip into my room. There’s a large bed that takes up the majority of the room, one that I’ll be sleeping in alone. Never has the thought of someone accompanying me into bed ever been so strong in my life. Maybe it’s the reminder it’s been a while since anyone has joined me in any bed, let alone mine, or possibly after spending the last couple of hours with Cricket. I’ve never been attracted to her, not like this. Sure, I’ve noticed she was pretty. Sexy, even. But now? Now, my wayward cock is practically ripping itself out of my pants, doing anything it can to get closer to her.

  That has definitely never happened before, where she’s concerned.

  Adding Danny to the mix only seems to make it more complicated.

  That’s exactly why I’m going to stay in my room and catch up on work tonight. Sleep it off, if you will. Wake up tomorrow and not embarrass myself by sporting a woody in her presence. You know, things a friend shouldn’t do.

  My cell phone chimes an alert, and I find a text message waiting.

  From Cricket.

  Cricket: I’m hoping you have the same number. This is Cricket, in case I’m not programmed in your phone anymore.

  Cricket: Plans tonight? I’m thinking I need some mozzarella sticks from Slim’s. Maybe a draft beer. You know, one obtained legally and not through a fake ID.

  I’m automatically smiling that she didn’t get rid of my number from her phone. It makes me feel good she didn’t ditch my contact after we lost touch.

  Me: I see your cheese sticks and beer and raise you one game of darts.

  There. Sent.

  That’s me not embarrassing myself in her presence by staying away from her.

  I pretend to not be obsessed with seeing those bubbles appear on the screen and head over to unzip my garment bag and hang my suit. It’s basic black and my go-to for when I have to travel to meetings for work, which only happens once a year or so. I’ve paired it with a tan button-down and black matte tie with satin stripes.

  The moment it’s hanging in the closet, I head over to my phone, you know, to casually check and see if Crick replied. Totally. Casual. And. Completely. Laid. Back.

  That’s me.

  Grabbing the device, I tap on her name.

  Crick: We’ll see. Maybe if I’m plied with enough beer, I’ll subject myself to a darts beatdown. You’ve probably been practicing, haven’t you?

  Me: I cannot confirm nor deny that. Cheese sticks, lots of beer, and darts.

  My fingers hover over the text. I almost add “It’s a date” but don’t want to make things more awkward than they already are. Instead, I just click send.

  Crick: Meet you in the lobby at 8?

  I check the clock on the nightstand beside the bed. It’s six thirty. That gives me time to get a little work done and a shower before I head down to meet Cricket.

  Me: Sounds good.

  I set my phone on the small desk and grab my suitcase. My laptop is secured inside, so after I quickly unload the clothes into the small dresser, I power up my laptop and secured portable network. Time to put Cricket and her tight black leggings out of my mind. Time to forget about the awkwardness surrounding Danny and his ex and the way my cock hardens in my pants every time I think about her.

  Time to get to work.

  ***

  And hour and a half later, I’m shoving my wallet into the back pocket of a clean pair of jeans and grabbing the rental keys. Cricket didn’t specify if we’re walking or driving to Slim’s, but honestly, it doesn’t matter to me either way. The familiar hangout is about a ten-minute walk from here, which is doable. Plus, that would give me more time with her, right?

  Shaking my head, I make my way to the door, grabbing my keycard off the dresser as I go by. In the hallway, I glance behind me when another door closes heavily. I’m sure it’s probably Danny, considering my luck isn’t that great lately, but I’m pleasantly surprised to see Cricket emerge. I actually stop in my tracks. Did she just come from Danny’s hotel room?

  “Hey! I didn’t realize you were on this floor,” she says, a warm smile on her coral colored lips that makes my dick twitch in my pants. I’m a horrible friend, because all I can wonder right now is if that color will stay on her plump lips or rub off and leave a ring around my cock.

  Shit! Now I’m getting hard. In the hallway. Right in front of her.

  Grandma, Grandma, Grandma, Grandma.

  Grandma having sex.

  Yep. That does it.

  Consider my erection squashed, probably for life.

  “Oh, uh, yeah,” I finally spit out when she’s standing directly in front of me. “Room 410.”

  She smiles again, seeming to find my stumbling and stammering charming, or at the very least, entertaining. Great. She probably thinks I’m cute. You know, like a puppy. A friendly puppy.

  My eyes do a quick scan of her outfit, my brain short circuiting and stopping on her top. Then, they do another perusal, this time a much slower one, taking her in as if for the first time. Cricket is wearing tight, dark skinny jeans that hug her perfect ass, a black top that dips down low in the front, giving just a hint of cleavage, and a pair of black heels. Not too tall, but with just enough to add a few inches of height. She’s carrying a black clutch thingy and her long brown hair hangs down in big waves. It looks soft and silky and makes me want to run my fingers through it.

  Now is definitely not the time though.

  Glancing over her shoulder, I try to mentally count the doors, trying to remember which one Danny went into. Was it five down or six? Cricket glances back, trying to figure out what I’m looking at. “Is everything okay?”

  “Oh! Yeah, sure. You’re…down the hall?”

  She nods. “421.”

  I’m sure he went down five doors, which would mean he’s in 419. He’s right next door to Cricket. Should I tell her? Probably. That’s definitely not a surprise she’d enjoy. I nod toward the elevators, ready to get the hell out of this hallway and away from the po
ssibility of Danny coming out and finding us. It only takes a few seconds before a car arrives to take us down to the lobby. When we’re inside, I decide to go ahead and let her know of her neighbor.

  “So, I know you probably figured out who stopped me in the lobby.”

  “Uh, yeah. Sorry to just bail on ya, but I wasn’t hanging around for that reunion. I mean, I know I’ll have to see him eventually, but I’d rather it not be today. Not looking like I just spent four hours on a plane and another two in a car.”

  I glance her way, struck by her comment. Does she not know how incredibly beautiful she looks? Right now, all dolled up, sure, but even before that. Earlier, when she was sort of messy from work and the flight, she was the most stunning woman I’d ever seen. And I know I wasn’t the only one to notice either. At least two guys waiting behind us at the car rental counter had their eyes on her. It made me a little crazy.

  The car arrives in the lobby and we step out to a slew of guests waiting to be whisked away to their floors. We make our way through the crowd and head toward the front doors of the hotel. “Do you want us to drive over?” I ask, ready to head over to the valet desk.

  Cricket shakes her head. “No, let’s walk,” she says as she heads off in the direction of Slim’s.

  It doesn’t take me long to catch up, my legs considerably longer than hers. “Are you sure? You’re wearing heels.”

  I don’t miss the way she rolls her eyes under the night sky. “I wear heels every day, Rueben. I’ll be fine,” she reassures.

  Still, I make sure to walk at a slower pace than normal just so she doesn’t have to walk fast in those shoes to keep up. Shoving my hands into my pockets, I jump back to the conversation we started earlier in the elevator. “Anyway, so after you went up to your room, Danny and I got on the elevator together. He ended up getting off on our floor too.”

  “Your floor…as in the fourth floor,” she says a little slowly, as if catching where I’m going with my statement.

  “Yep, our floor.”

  “Okay,” she replies casually, though I can hear a hint of uneasiness in her tone.

  We stop at the intersection and wait for the cross walk to change. “I’m pretty sure he’s in room 419,” I blurt out just as the light changes to walk.

  I start to move, but realize Cricket hasn’t. I glance back and find her standing on the curb, her eyes closed. Before I can say a word, those beautiful green eyes open and lock on mine. I feel the earth tremor beneath my shoes, a wave of longing sweeping through my body. I almost rush back to the curb and take her in my arms, but before I can do that, she steps off and approaches. “Well, that’s par for the course,” she says as she walks past me, leaving me standing in the middle of the street.

  The light changes and a horn honks. I turn around and rush to the opposite side to where Cricket is waiting, and we continue our slow walk toward Slim’s. “Sorry to have to tell you that, but I didn’t want you to be surprised.”

  “No, I appreciate it, really,” she says, reaching over and resting her hand on my arm. It’s meant as a comforting and appreciative gesture, one given by friends, for friends, but her touch does something to me. It’s like a shock of electricity and bourbon at the same time. Cricket pulls her hand away quickly, and I can’t help but wonder if she felt something too.

  We’re silent as we make our way the last few blocks to Slim’s. The sidewalk starts to fill up the closer we get to campus, but I’m pleasantly surprised to find our old hangout not as packed as expected. Of course, it’s still a little early for the late night drinking scene. As we enter, Cricket makes a beeline for an open pub table in the corner, smiling when she scores us a great table.

  “Nice,” I say as I slide onto the chair across from her.

  “Right?” she replies, reaching for the menu in the middle of the table. “We used to never get an open table right away.”

  I glance over to the left, spying the familiar board on the wall, and smile. “And so close to our dart board,” I state.

  Cricket groans and shakes her head. “Of course. I haven’t had anything to drink yet to willing subject myself to that humiliation a second time.”

  Just then, a waitress arrives at our table and sets two pub napkins down in front of us. She’s young, probably barely a day over twenty-one, and offers us a warm smile. “Let me guess, here for the alumni reunion?”

  “Do we look that out of place here?” Cricket asks with a laugh.

  “No, of course not,” she backpedals. “We’ve had a few tables in tonight talking about the reunion.”

  Cricket seems appeased by her reply and gives her a smile. “I’ll have a Stella draft and mozzarella sticks.”

  “I’ll have the same, plus an order of onion rings,” I add, sticking my menu back in the holder in the middle of the table as the waitress heads off to place our order.

  “Not planning on kissing anyone tonight, I see,” Cricket says casually as she returns her menu to the stand.

  My brain, of course, goes straight to kissing her. Our lips locked, the sweet taste of her skin against mine. The slide of my tongue along the seam of her lips, begging for entrance. And my hands, oh the things I could do with my hands while my lips are busy. But I won’t do them. I can’t do them. None of the dirty things my mind conjures up.

  “No, no kissing tonight,” I reply, clearing my throat as I go. It feels thick and scratchy, like I swallowed gravel.

  Our beers are delivered a few moments later, our waitress assuring us our food will be out shortly. I glance around, anxious and nervous at the same time to spy someone I know. Like Danny, who made it clear he’s going out tonight. This was one of our hangouts back in the day, and all I can do is pray he decided to venture to one of the other places we used to hang at.

  I take a long pull from my glass, watching Cricket do the same out of my peripheral vision. She sets her glass down and licks the beer froth off her top lip, and I have to close my eyes before I do something really stupid like climb over the table and ravish that sweet mouth.

  “So,” I say, clearing my throat and glancing around the pub. “How exactly did you move from behind the camera to in front of it? You always hated being center attention in school.”

  Cricket glances down and starts ripping apart the corner of her napkin. “Funny story,” she says, fidgeting more than usual. She doesn’t continue right away, so I take another drink of my beer and wait her out. “I was a production director for the morning and noon newscast. It didn’t take me too long to move up from assistant to director. I had always loved that aspect in school. I wanted to produce the news, you know?”

  She glances over at me, as if seeking verification, so I nod in return. Cricket was brilliant behind the camera, in the production room. She knew which angles to hit, where to make edits to optimize airtime, and was always exact in her timing. But she’s beautiful, and even back in school, the instructor was always trying to get her in front of the camera.

  “Well, about four years ago, our morning co-host quit. No notice, just walked in and said she was done. Turns out she was offered a position over at a station in LA, like most do. We’re the small station, so many use us as a stepping stone or a resume builder.” Cricket stops tearing apart her napkin and glances over at me.

  “Anyway, the GM came to me and asked for a favor. He wanted me to co-host until they found a replacement. A week or two tops.” She takes another long drink from her glass, her eyes still locked on mine.

  “And let me guess, a week or two tops is well past.”

  “He had no intention of finding a replacement. He wanted me for on-air pretty much from the moment I started a decade ago. Well, once he had me there, it was harder for me to step back. There was no co-host replacement in sight, and they promoted one of my assistants to fill my spot.”

  “That sucks, Crick. I’m sorry.”

  She shrugs as our food is delivered. The fried mozzarella sticks are still steaming, which makes my mouth water. “I’ll brin
g you both another round. Can I get you anything else?” the waitress asks.

  “No, thank you,” Cricket replies, as I give a quick shake of my head.

  My friend smothers her first mozzarella stick with marinara sauce and brings it up to her mouth. “No reason for you to apologize. It’s not a horrible gig, and the money is definitely better.” She eats half the cheese stick in one bite, double dipping in her sauce for the second bite. “Plus, last I was told, our ratings are so good the competition has been knocking on my door.”

  I have an onion ring halfway to my mouth when I consider her statement. “The competition, as in…”

  “Yep. Apparently, they think Danny and I ‘would make a great team.’” She uses air quotes and rolls her eyes, sighing dramatically.

  My stomach lurches at the thought of Cricket and Danny together again. Jealousy? Hell yes, it is. I’ve never really been jealous of Danny. He was more athletic and had an easier time talking to girls, but I never held it against him, mostly because he was my friend and I didn’t really want the attention like he did.

  Our waitress delivers two more draft beers and leaves us to eat and visit. I notice it’s starting to get a little louder in here, and I find myself leaning forward to hear her talk. With each inch I move in her direction, I can smell the fruitiness of her shampoo and the cleanliness of her body wash. It’s intoxicating.

  I think about her statement, about the job offers on the table, and can’t help but wonder…what if? That’s probably why I find myself asking, “So, are you considering the offer?”

  Her eyes widen and bore into me from across the table. “You’re kidding me, right? I’d rather walk across a football field of broken glass, barefooted, than work with that asshole. Plus, LA? Yuck!”

  I snort a laugh and take a healthy bite of my food. It’s a little easier to eat, knowing she still thinks Danny is a piece of work. And he is, especially after how he ended things with her at graduation. But I don’t know, I guess I expected time to heal old wounds, or whatever. Honestly, knowing she wants no part in working with him makes me a little giddy.