Notes On Love

by K. L. Shandwick

  “Now? You mean now that we did the awkward morning after no sex in the bed, the breakfast I cooked by way of an apology, and your dramatic non-exit when I dragged you in here, and fucked your brains out? I guess we get up and shower one at a time so we don’t end up back in here, because I’m fucking hungry.”

  It was meant to lighten her mood, but from the reaction on her face I could see Phoebe thought it was business as usual between us. “After we’ve dressed I’m going to drive you over to your place and you can pick up some of your shit to save you going back and forth.”

  Repositioning herself, Phoebe perched herself up on her elbow, one hand holding her head while her elbow dug into the mattress next to me. “I’m sorry, Gray, you need to clarify this for me. I’m not being dense when I asked that.”

  Watching how insecure she was about me, I did what I’d never done with any woman before, not even Lizzie. Rolling away from her I got up out of my bed and wandered along the hall. In the small box by the door, I lifted a spare set of keys and padded back to the bedroom. Climbing back into bed, I pulled her into my arms and lay with her nestled between my left arm and my chest. “I want you to have these,” I murmured and kissed her temple as I held my hand out with two small silver keys and a red plastic garage remote for her to take.

  Phoebe squinted at what I was holding toward her and her body instantly stiffened. With the dejected look on her face changing to a wide-eyed stare, she reacted badly.

  “I’m not taking those, Gray. This morning you shunned me and now you hand me your keys for me to move in? Hell, for all I know next week you’ll be texting me to hand them back.”

  She was right of course; my behavior had been contradictory at best when I’d pushed her away only hours before. “I don’t mean they’re for moving in, I just wanted to show you I want you around. You were here more often than not before, so I figured you should have keys. That way you can be here when you want and go home when you don’t.”

  “So these are some kind of a commitment?”

  “That word scares the shit out of me, but they’re…something. Look it would be wrong of me to expect anything from you, but after this morning, and my admission about these feelings I have, I have to be honest and say I don’t fully understand what they are…or what they mean—if you can accept that poor excuse…”

  “So they’re booty call keys? You call me from wherever you are and tell me to meet you at home?”

  “Fuck, no. They are my way of saying I’d like you to be around me. I really like your company. And I don’t want to let you down.”

  “And by giving me keys, telling me I can come here if I want or I can decide to go home is your way of making me feel like we’re going somewhere?” Phoebe pulled away from me, tension rolling off her as she slid out of the bed and began pulling her clothes on. I could see how pissed off I’d made her by the forced jerky movements she made as she pulled at her clothing and shook her head in defiance.

  “We got along fine without keys before, Gray. If you have to call me over, then you don’t intend to have me around.” Her voice was an octave higher, alarmed at the stupid gesture I thought would let her know we meant something. My shit for brains was useless at relationships.

  Seconds later, I was out of the bed and rushed to stand in front of her. Sticking out an arm I effectively blocked the doorway which had become a familiar move that morning.

  “Stop, Phoebe. Please. I never said I’d call you over. You’ve got it all wrong. See, I fucked up straight away. I should have asked you what you thought before just handing you the keys. What I thought when I gave you them…it was my way of saying that while we’re figuring this out I want us to be exclusive. The thought of you with another guy fucks with my head. I know I have no right to say that, but it does.”

  Watching me with narrowed eyes, Phoebe assessed my conversation with the suspicion I deserved, there had been nothing chivalrous about how I’d treated her in the past, and even though I could see she had deep feelings for me, I was glad she had respected herself enough not to put up with my shit.

  After this morning, I thought I’d explained what was going on, but I figure I needed to expand on that. “The thought that you could be with anyone else right now, fucks with my head. It gives me a tight, gripping pain around my heart, and my guts feel like someone’s splicing those fuckers together. When I saw how Harry was handling you yesterday, I wanted nothing more than to kick the shit out of that guy…teach him a lesson on how to behave around you. I was about to do it too, except Surge reminded me you weren’t with me anymore.”

  Phoebe’s eyes softened and she reached out to grab a hold of my arm. “Gray, I have never been with you. I think you had the right intention with the keys, but I’m going to decline if that’s all right by you. Giving someone the key to your home is a big step, it’s not something to do out of desperation when you want to impress a woman.”

  Giving her a sheepish smile, I listened while she educated me about how not to behave. I folded my arms protectively over my chest because if I hadn’t have done that I’d have pulled her back into my arms and demeaned the seriousness of our conversation.

  “Actions speak louder than words, and the last two days have taught me you think there is more to us than just some fuck buddy relationship. I like the sound of exclusive, Gray. It means that you’re actually giving us some thought. Right now, I feel after all this time apart, I can’t ask for more than that.”

  Nodding my head I gave her a wry smirk of embarrassment. “Duly noted, Pheebs, and you’re absolutely right. You’re a smart woman, I’m glad you set me straight. Can I take you to dinner? Eating is always a great way to apologize, right?”

  Phoebe smiled, all the previous tension sliding from her face. She dug into her bag and pulled out a small hairbrush. Brushing vigorously at her long, flaxen locks she giggled softly, letting her anger slide.

  “Yep, but I get to choose the restaurant and you’re paying,” she said assertively. I laughed because it was the Phoebe I’d missed: the ballsy, no nonsense, take no shit version that had attracted me to her in the first place.

  Chapter 21

  Body blow ~ Phoebe

  Gray was as good as his word after his initial faux pas with his apartment keys, but I knew him well enough to believe he wasn’t being presumptuous I’d just accept them as a token gesture, and a way of picking up where we left off. Once CraVed were in the UK they had all stuck to their guns and insisted they spend some time in their home city. Five medium-sized gigs were arranged with haste, and a few late-night chat show interviews kept their management happy they were being productive outside of the US.

  Word traveled fast and so did the invitations for parties when some of the bands they’d toured with before they went to Miami, heard they were home. Initially, I wondered where I’d fit into his plan, and how often. But I was surprised when he invited me to every event he went to. I was even more pleased he consulted me on whether I thought we should attend. I must have looked shocked when he did that because he frowned and pulled me close to him before murmuring in my ear, “We could always stay home,” in a low seductive tone.

  Gray continued to look relaxed and a month after Glastonbury we had settled back into life alongside each other. It made me very happy.

  Every morning I woke up wrapped with Gray’s strong, taut arms secured tightly around me. He held me close like I’d disappear if he didn’t. The combination of his hot, even breaths and manly scent surrounded me with feelings of togetherness. Each morning began with the same routine. He’d open his eyes, smile softly, and say the same thing. “Morning, beautiful.” He may as well have been reciting romantic poetry for the way my heart skipped a beat in reaction.

  All of our days were wonderfully lazy while our sleepless nights were full on. Those nights usually ended the same, with Gray whispering dirty words of what he wanted from me and bone-melting kisses that devoured me. Kisses like he was thirsty for me a
fter many months apart. They were insatiable and devouring, passionate and full of wanton desire. Gray lavished his precious time and undivided attention on me in and out of the bedroom, and I was in heaven.

  Eventually, after five long weeks of socializing and networking, Gray and Brody made some downtime just to hang with each other. Brody and Dana invited us to a low-key night at their new apartment. Dana had made a fabulous dinner, and the smell crept out to the hallway into the corridor leading to their door. It took my craving for a home cooked meal to a new level after weeks of restaurant food.

  After taking our jackets, Dana excitedly showed off the artwork she insisted she got for a steal but the incredulous stare Brody threw her way, told a completely different story about his opinion on that.

  Remaining silent, Brody pulled out his empty wallet in mock contradiction. Gray joined in teasing Dana, but she took it all in good spirit. Once we had settled down at the table with drinks, Dana went off to plate up the food. She was a fabulous cook but a god-awful baker and dessert maker. We had all kept our thoughts to ourselves when she used a nine-inch meat blade to carve us a slice of what loosely resembled chocolate fudge cake after our main meal. Gray’s eyes were flicking between Brody’s and mine as he bit back a grin when he saw what she was using.

  Brody made an adorable husband, and actor, groaning like the taste of her latest effort was orgasmic while both Gray and I had only managed to share one piece between us while drinking a gallon of water to ease the cake’s path down our food pipes.

  Everyone exaggerated their pleasure by patting our stomachs pretending to be stuffed full, in lieu of being offered seconds. By way of a distraction, Brody stood, insisting that he and Gray tidied the dishes from the table while he praised Dana for working so hard. The couple shared a loving stare that was way too long in front of us. Gray cleared his throat, lifted his wine glass, and chuckled into it before draining the contents. Brody and Dana broke their stare and Brody launched into conversation again.

  “God, we’ve got that time change to deal with again next week. What time are we leaving on Sunday?” Brody asked Gray innocently as he picked up the plates and stacked them on top of one another. My eyes flicked alarmingly between them both and I caught Gray freeze then wince at the question because he hadn’t mentioned he was going anywhere to me.

  Because both men were close, the kind of close where they had this silent communication between them, Brody shifted the conversation away from his previous question in one steady heartbeat while mine stuttered fearfully in my chest.

  Dana chatted on, oblivious to the undercurrent that had swept through the dinner party. I stared at Gray with a lump in my throat. He avoided eye contact and continued to talk as if the question hadn’t been asked in the first place. I think maybe if I’d had any suspicions he was about to leave I’d have reacted one way or the other. Instead, because I’d been oblivious I sat paralyzed by the news in a stunned silence. I was too hurt to even think why he hadn’t mentioned it to me. Well, I didn’t have to think. I knew why. I wasn’t part of his plan.

  Somehow, I got through coffee, only half-listening to Dana talking about the new dance studio she had joined, while Gray and Brody drank their way through three quarters of a bottle of five-star Cognac. When Brody suggested we move into the living room I made my excuses, and blinking back tears as soon as I was out of sight, I headed to the sanctuary of the bathroom.

  Three things happened to me when I got there. Initially, I couldn’t think. Then the impact of his news hit me like a heavy blow to the head. I felt humiliated that he had planned to go back to New York without telling me first. If it had been me leaving, the first thing I would have done would have been to consider him. I inhaled deeply and patted a stray tear from under my eye, put some fresh lipstick on, and sucked up my distress. I knew it would be dealt with but not at that particular moment in time.

  Unlike many women, I would never cause a scene in someone else’s home, nor would I make someone like Brody feel bad for asking an innocent question. It was plain he had no understanding of what was going on in Gray’s mind, and that made two of us.

  My insides felt shredded, my heart devastated. I’d thought we were great together, even though Gray had never said he loved me, or made me any promises. I had clung to the way he had told me we had something, in hope I’d grow to be more. Clearly, his interpretation of something and mine weren’t even in the same ball park.

  I always knew our relationship wasn’t ideal, and it was true we didn’t have the best start, but I had thought we were going somewhere. However, from his actions, as far as Gray was concerned, we weren’t really together.

  Being someone who was pretty impulsive at the best of times, I was even more so in the worst of times. However, the way I dealt with the scene at the table wasn’t impulsive, it was reactive, and really the only option for my circumstances. As I stood shaking in the bathroom, I pulled out my phone and I called for a cab to pick me up. Afterwards I made my way back to the living room. It appeared after five weeks of being there for Gray constantly I’d outstayed my welcome. If he thought he could pick me up and discard me whenever the notion took him, no matter how much I loved him, we were never going to work.

  An atmosphere had developed during the time I’d gone to freshen up, and when I walked back into the room I had the distinct feeling the unmentionable conversation from the table had been aired in my absence.

  Uncomfortable, furtive glances passed between Brody and Dana with each step I took closer to them. My chest tightened with my anxiety to know what had been said, but Gray behaved like nothing had happened and patted the seat beside him.

  “Come over here, sweetheart, this couch is amazing,” he said enthusiastically as he flashed me his megawatt, sexy smile. Normally, I was powerless to resist him when he did that, but that night, I hated it.

  “Nah, relax and enjoy, I’m going to head off. All the wine has made me tired, so I’m just going to head home.” The smile dropped from Gray’s face immediately as a frown creased his normally smooth brow.

  “Thought we were staying over?”

  “No. You stay. I have a migraine brewing. I’m not much company once it gets started, so I’ll go home and crash out. We’ll catch up tomorrow.” Gray’s eyes studied my face, a look of concern in them. I ignored the worried look he gave me and turned to Dana. “Where did you put my jacket, hon?”

  Dana rose off the chair and left the room. I followed her out to the hall as my phone vibrated.

  “Who’s that, this late at night?”

  “I called a cab,” I said, holding up my cell to her before answering. “I’ll be right out, thanks,” I informed the driver and closed the call out.

  Dana pulled me in for a hug. “Listen, Phoebe,” she started to say, but I put my hand up.

  “Stop, I know…please don’t fuss, just let me go home.”

  Dana gave me a piercing look that asked if I was going to be okay, and I nodded. She knew not to persist with the conversation. “I’m fine. I’ll call you tomorrow. Thank you for dinner.”

  Pulling on the heavy, glass door, she placed a hand on my arm to stop me, my gaze fell to it. “Aren’t you going to say goodbye?”

  Anger rose from my belly and my eyes darted up to meet hers. Even though I knew it wasn’t Dana’s fault I heard myself say, “You think he was going to when he was making his travel arrangements? It’s pretty clear he doesn’t care about me one way or the other.” I opened the door wider then hesitated to look over my shoulder at her. “Sorry, hon, I’m just…” I sighed not knowing what else to say. “Speak to you soon.”

  Stepping over the threshold, I pulled the door closed then hurried to the cab like the apartment block was on fire. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Gray open the security door as I reached the car. I ignored him, turning away to give the cab driver my address and climbed quickly inside. As soon as I closed the door my tears fell.

  “Are you all right?”
Concerned eyes met mine in the cab driver’s rearview mirror.

  “Yeah, just tired of selfish bastards is all.”

  “He’s one heck of a stupid, selfish bastard if you ask me. You’re stunning, darlin’,” he offered. I gave him a watery smile through my tears as my chin quivered.

  “Never been hit on while snot’s dripping from my nose before,” I muttered, trying to make light of the situation while half attempting a giggle at the stranger’s instant loyalty to me. I wiped my nose on my sleeve and mentally stuck two fingers up at my mother. She would have had a hissy fit if she’d seen me doing that.

  “My looks seem to attract the wrong kind of man,” I said in a small voice which was almost directed to myself. I wasn’t all looks and an empty head. I was articulate, smart—strike that, if I’d been smart I’d never have taken up with Gray again.

  As I drew up to my two-story townhouse, I dug into my purse and searched for the money to pay the driver, but he waved a dismissive hand. “No charge, this is my good deed for the day. I’m not taking money from a damsel in distress.” My eyes raked over him and noted his softened in sympathy. I hated his reaction, but I shook it off and thanked him for his chivalry toward me. When I stepped out of the cab I lowered my head and didn’t look back. I couldn’t wait to get into my own place and bolt the door.

  Delving into my bag I found the single silver Yale lock key and inserted it. As I did this I felt my cell vibrate on my thigh through the soft leather of my bag. I knew instinctively it would be Gray. There was nothing to say to him. I felt foolish to think that we may have had a future together. How he reacted at Brody’s place made me feel dirt cheap. Cheaper than I ever had when I was making my own free-spirited choices hanging around other bands. I ignored the call.

  Three glasses of wine and I felt sorry for myself. By the time I’d opened another bottle on top of what I’d had at Dana and Brody’s to make it five glasses my pity party was epic. I cried and wailed out loud like some banshee in self-pity. It was a wonder none of my neighbors banged on the door to see what was wrong. Eventually, I found my phone because I wanted to charge it, and saw a text from Gray. It made me incensed that he’d had the audacity to try to call me after his poor fucking performance.