by E. M. Abel
No. More. Tears.
Saturday morning, I woke up with a dry mouth and a slight headache to go along with my shame. It was still dark outside, so I checked my alarm clock. 8:16 a.m.
Getting up, I walked to my window and pushed the curtain to the side. It was cloudy and a light fog was hovering in the air. As I made my way toward my bathroom, I remembered a hurricane was approaching the coast. I went to my laptop, brought it to life, and found the wave report. It looked like some good swells were coming in. Perfect.
I quickly called Shaun, telling him about the swells, and asked him to come pick me up. Waves were the only thing Shaun would willingly get out of bed for.
He mumbled something like, “Be right there,” and hung up.
I made my way toward the edge of the water and smiled as I watched all the surfers on the beach. On days like this, we got the beach all to ourselves.
Just as I started to grab the strap hanging from my board, something caught my eye. Blue boardshorts. Jay. Damn it! I hadn’t seen him here in over eight years, but now—now!—I had to see him.
I stood there and watched him. He was lying on his stomach, his back muscles flexing, as he paddled with his strong arms. I bit my bottom lip.
My body was reacting as images of Jay over me, kissing me and grinding his hips against mine, flashed in front of my eyes. I quickly looked away when I saw him turn his head in my direction. He probably wouldn’t even notice me, especially from so far away, but I wasn’t going to take a chance and get caught staring at him. After all, I was the one who chose not to continue the relationship. I needed to remember why I had ended things to begin with.
Straightening my back, I headed right into the water, refusing to look in his direction again. In the ocean, I sat on my board, bobbing up and down. I felt no relief whatsoever. Damn it, why does he have to be here?
I tried letting out my frustration by tightening my grip on my board. When that didn’t work, I gritted my teeth, lying flat on my stomach, as I pressed my cheek against the wet hard surface of my board. After staring at the horizon swaying in front of me for a few minutes, I sat up and took a deep breath. I’ll catch the next wave.
Shaun dropped me off at my apartment around one. I was exhausted. After four hours in those waves, I was ready to eat a big meal and lie comatose on my couch for the rest of the day. I figured out why surfing had always helped me feel better. I was too exhausted to think after I was done.
As I trudged up the stairs, I heard my phone ringing from inside my purse. I was too tired to talk to anyone, and I had my board in my hand, so there was no way I was answering it. Whoever it was would just have to wait.
I kicked open my door and quickly placed my board on the floor against the wall. After plopping my purse down on my gray kitchen counter, I dug inside it to find my phone. My breath caught in my throat when I saw Jay’s name. I threw the phone down and stared at it, trying to decide if I should call back. My head kept screaming, No! No!, but my hand picked it up to call him.
“Hello?” he answered.
“Hey. Did you call me?”
“Um…yeah.”
It was silent for a few seconds as I waited for him to tell me why he had called.
“I saw you on the beach today,” Jay said, his voice dropped as if he were confessing something.
“Yeah, I saw you, too.” I sighed, slumping my shoulders, as I headed toward my couch. Before I sat down, I stared at my paintings.
“Why didn’t you say anything to me?” Jay asked, snapping me out of my gaze.
“Why didn’t you?”
“You’re right. I should have said something, but I just wasn’t sure what to say. That note you sent…” Jay got quiet, not finishing his sentence.
I sat down on my couch and closed my eyes.
“I never meant to hurt you, Asia. I still want you in my life.”
“I can’t, Jay. I’m just not meant to lead that kind of life, and honestly, I don’t want to.”
“Can I see you?”
I opened my eyes, remembering the way he had looked on his surfboard just hours before. It would definitely be too dangerous. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.” I stood up and made my way to my room.
“Why not?” he asked, sounding offended.
“Because.”
“Because you’re afraid of what might happen?”
“Look, Jay, I gotta go.”
He was quiet for a second as I stood still, waiting to hang up.
“Okay. I miss you,” he finally said.
“Mmhmm,” I muttered.
I hung up and dropped my phone on the bed. I covered my eyes with my hands as I took in a shattered breath. No more tears. No more tears.
I stepped into the hot shower and closed my eyes as the warmth covered my body. Feeling the muscles straining in my chest, I took a deep breath, smelling my shampoo, as I rubbed it into my hair.
The more I thought about the state of my heart, the more I started to appreciate the fact that Shaun and Marcus had been at the club last night. I had almost done something really stupid, and I would have never been able to take it back. I was lonely.
If Jay had shown up at my door instead of calling, I wasn’t sure if I could have stuck to my decision to end things.
After finishing my shower, I wrapped myself in my favorite towel. I walked back into my room and fell backward onto my bed. I stared up at the brown ceiling fan rotating over my head, my thoughts spinning with it. I just needed an escape. Casual sex would be too risky, and surfing obviously wouldn’t cut it.
I sat up and picked up my phone. After finding his number, I called Dank.
“Hello?” he groaned.
As usual, it was the middle of the afternoon, and Dank was still asleep.
“Hey, Dank. It’s Asia.”
“Asia?”
I heard some movement.
“Hey, girl, what’s up?”
“I was just wondering if you knew where I could get some smoke.”
“Uh, yeah. I got a guy, but he just left for Florida this morning. Won’t be back ‘til Monday.”
Shit. “Damn. Alright, never mind. Sorry for waking you up.”
“Hold up. Isn’t Marcus in town?”
I jerked my head back, surprised by his question. “Yeah. So?”
“Well, I know you guys are friends, and he always has smoke. You should try asking him.”
I sighed and fell back onto my bed. “Yeah, okay. Thanks, Dank.”
“You still seeing Jay?”
Seriously? “No,” I said slowly, trying to figure out where this was going and why he cared.
“Thank God.”
“What?”
“Sorry, Puffy, but that dude does not belong with you.”
My head jerked back again. What the fuck? I decided not to ask. I didn’t want to talk about Jay. “Okay. Whatever. Thanks, Dank. Oh, and you should get your lazy ass up and get to the beach. The waves are big today.”
I heard more movement then.
“Shit! Later.”
I stared at my ceiling fan for a few more minutes. Then, I picked up my phone, scrolled through my log, found the unknown number, and made the call.
“Didn’t expect to get a call from you,” Marcus answered in his deep voice.
“I was just calling to see if you knew where I could get some smoke. I tried calling Dank, but his hook-up went to Florida.”
He chuckled, sounding sexy as usual. “Yeah, I could get you some. How much do you want?”
“I don’t know. Not much. What can I get for like twenty bucks?”
Marcus chuckled again. “You haven’t bought weed in a while, have you? Don’t worry. I got you. I’ll stop by in about an hour.”
“Okay, cool. Thanks.”
I quickly got dressed in a pair of baggy sweatpants and a white tank top. After I grabbed my keys, I slipped on my flip-flops and headed out to the convenient store down the street. I bought all of my favorite munchies—Cheetos, Tw
inkies, Twizzlers—a six-pack of Heineken, and a pack of rolling papers.
As I made my way back to my apartment, I saw Marcus’s car parked near my building. As I approached, I tried to see through the dark tinted windows. When I got closer, I realized Marcus was sitting on the steps in front, watching me, and he was grinning. Damn it.
“You looking for someone?”
Heat instantly hit my cheeks, and I looked down at the bag in my hand, smiling.
“Did you get me anything?” he asked as he stood up.
“You can have a beer if you want,” I offered, lifting the plastic bag up.
Marcus took the bag from me. “I’ll definitely take a beer.”
“I meant to tell you that I really like those paintings,” Marcus said as he made his way toward my kitchen with my bag. “The ones above your couch.” He lifted his chin toward my living room.
“Thanks.” I stared down at the floor as I followed him into my kitchen.
When I lifted my head, I stopped. Marcus was standing in front of me, my breasts only inches from his chest.
“You’re a great artist, Asia. You have a gift,” he told me as he watched me with his hazel-green eyes.
I could smell his shampoo and the mint gum he was chewing in his mouth. I studied his full lips directly in my line of sight. What I wouldn’t give to be that piece of gum. I swallowed, diverting my eyes to the counter.
“Um…thanks. Well. Anyway…did you get me some smoke?” I asked, trying to remind him why he was here.
He laughed as he reached into his pocket. “Straight to business, right?”
I smiled back and went into my pocket to get my cash.
“Don’t worry about it. It’s on me,” Marcus said, tossing a sandwich bag full of weed on my counter.
“Marcus, that’s way too much. I just wanted a little.”
He shrugged. “I’ll help you smoke it.”
An hour later, Marcus and I were sitting at my dining room table, eating Cheetos and laughing, as we looked through my old photo albums. It was amazing what a little weed could do.
“God, we look so young,” Marcus said before popping another Cheeto into his mouth.
When I flipped the page, I felt myself blush when six different photos of me on the beach were displayed in front of us. I quickly grabbed the page to turn it over, but Marcus grabbed my hand. My body tensed from his touch.
“Hold on a sec,” he muttered as his eyes focused in on one of the pictures.
I followed his gaze to see which one he was looking at. It was one of me in a bikini, standing with my board under my arm while I was laughing. Hailey had taken them during my junior year in high school. She’d decided she wanted to be a professional photographer, so she had forced me to model for her.
“I like these. I remember this day. Shaun and I were out surfing, and I saw you.” Marcus’s eyes slowly flicked from one picture to the next.
When he was done, he smiled and put his head down, shaking it back and forth. His messy hair was sticking out from under his black Spitfire hat. They were another one of his sponsors.
“What?” I grinned, waiting to be let in on the joke.
“I just can’t believe I had a chance with you back then, and I was too dumb to see it.”
Yeah, right. I smacked him on the arm. “Whatever, Marcus. You don’t do relationships, remember?”
He was obviously just trying to make me feel better. Marcus could have any woman he wanted. Women would have been lined up around the block if they knew where he was.
“I would have,” Marcus admitted as he rubbed his hands over his stubble. “But I guess you’re right. I would have just fucked things up anyway.”
I quickly got up from the table, taking the photo album with me, and I put it back on my bookshelf. I needed to change the subject—quick. Marcus was watching me with a smirk on his face. Sometimes, I wished he didn’t know me so well.
“So, how are things coming along with the shop?” I asked, sounding way too perky.
“Things are going good. I’m gonna stick around until the doors open, and then I have to head back to L.A., to get ready for my move.”
“So, you’re really coming back, huh?”
“Yep.” He took a sip of his Heineken.
“Are you still staying at Shaun’s?”
“Yeah, but I need to get out of there. Your brother’s a mess, and his apartment stinks. I swear I feel like his mother, cleaning up after him all the time.”
I laughed as I walked toward the kitchen to grab another beer. “You want one?” Looking at him over the bar, I held the green bottle up in the air.
“No, I’m good.”
“So, what are you going to do? Rent an apartment or something?”
“Yeah. I’ll probably just rent for now until I find something I want to buy. I’ve been looking around. I want to find something close to the shop since I’ll be there a lot, but I haven’t found anything yet.”
A completely stupid, idiotic, weed-induced idea popped into my head, and before I thought it through, it came flying out of my mouth. “Why don’t you just move in here?”
Marcus’s eyes shot up to mine, and a smile slowly spread over his lips. Those amazing sexy lips.
“What?” he asked.
Oh god, Asia! What are you doing? I blinked, trying to break my gaze away from his mouth.
“Well, I was just thinking that since Hailey moved out…I have a spare bed and all. And, uh…it would be nice to have some help with the rent.” I was desperately trying to think of more logical reasons for my suggestion, so he wouldn’t think I was asking him to move in and marry me.
“Are you sure this isn’t just a ploy to get into my pants?” Marcus’s eyes moved down to my mouth, and he smiled again.
Oh god. I blushed and turned toward the couch, trying to hide my reaction to his obvious flirting.
“Don’t flatter yourself. I just want you for your money,” I said, setting down my beer on the coffee table.
Marcus got up from his chair and made his way toward me. He seemed deep in thought as he considered my offer. “Okay. Let’s do it.”
“Really?” I asked, sounding surprised. Oh no.
“What? You wanna back out already?”
Yes. “No. It’ll be nice to have some company around here.” I smiled up at him.
For a few seconds, my buzz left me as reality sank in. If he was living with me, that meant I would have to endure seeing his one-night stands come in and out of the apartment with him.
“But we have to have rules,” I stated firmly, narrowing my eyes at him.
“Okay. Like what?”
“Like no bringing bimbos into the apartment. At least not while I’m here.”
“Don’t worry about that. I never bring them home.” He gave me his panty-dropping grin.
I could feel my nipples harden immediately. “Geez, Marcus. What do you do? Hit it in the car, and then drop them off on the side of the street?”
He laughed and took the last sip of his beer. I was watching his lips again.
“I’m an asshole, but I’m not that fucked-up, Asia. We usually go to the girl’s place or a hotel.”
I shifted in my seat, feeling uncomfortable. I didn’t want to picture Marcus with other girls.
“Okay, good.”
“So, what about you? You can’t be bringing home random guys from the club either.”
I scowled at him. “This is my apartment. I can do whatever the hell I want.”
“Nu-uh, babe. Rules are rules. I don’t wanna hear your bed squeaking in the middle of the night any more than you wanna hear mine.”
I blushed again, shaking my head. “Whatever. You don’t have to worry about that. I’m done with guys for a while.”
Marcus came and sat next to me on the couch. He wrapped his arm around my shoulders and squeezed. I suddenly felt like inviting him to move in was the worst idea I’d ever had. It was going to take all my willpower not to creep into his bed i
n the middle of the night.
We sat in silence for a minute or so before he spoke again.
“So, when can I move in?” He tilted his head and smiled at me, his full lips spreading to show his white teeth.
“Uh…whenever, I guess.”
“Good!” he said, standing up. “I’ll go get my stuff.”
“Now?”
He looked down at me as confusion swept over his face. “Yeah. Why not?”
“I don’t know. Do you think Shaun will be weird about you moving in here with me?”
“I don’t care. Maybe he should keep his shit clean.” He turned around and headed toward the door. “You gonna be here for a while?”
“Yeah, I plan on sitting right here for the rest of the day,” I said, stretching.
Marcus smiled at me and looked down, noticing my surfboard on the floor. “You guys went surfing without me?” he asked, pretending to be hurt.
I laughed as I kicked my feet up onto the couch. “Well, maybe you should have been home instead of out at some bimbo’s house.”
He chuckled, shaking his head, as he walked out the door. As soon as I heard it close, I smacked my palm against my forehead and closed my eyes.
What the fuck did you just do?
A few hours later, a knock on my door woke me up from the nap I had been enjoying on my couch. When I opened it, Marcus was standing there with two suitcases in his hands and a big smile on his face.
“Honey, I’m home!”
I laughed as I opened the door wider to give him room. “Hailey’s room is right there. Well, I guess it’s your room now.”
I followed Marcus into his room and looked around. There was a queen-size bed in the far left corner with a nightstand and an empty dresser by the closet. My easel was sitting in the middle of the floor, and canvases, brushes, tubes of paint, and rags were all over the place.
“Oh, sorry. I forgot to clean up my mess,” I said, quickly picking up as much as I could fit into my arms.
After putting his bags down on the floor, Marcus started picking up canvases. His gorgeous eyes studied each one. When he got to one of my favorites, he stopped and held it up. “Can I hang this one up in here?”
