by KJ Reed
After a moment’s debate, Ariel stripped down to her panties and crawled into bed. She rolled around, trying to get comfortable, and stared at the rustic wood ceiling. Then remembering the message from earlier, decided to check her phone. She reached in her bag, sitting on the floor next to the bed, dumped the phone out and opened it while still flat on her back.
What are you doing now?
Trav
Moping.
Yeah, that was always sure to make him want to talk. But did she actually want to? She sat for a moment, listening to the lack of sound around her. She might not want the constant, well-meaning chatter of family or friends. But the anonymity of a text wouldn’t be bad. She wouldn’t hurt someone’s feelings by kicking them out of her cabin. When she’d had enough, she’d just turn the phone off.
Trying to fall asleep. Not working.
Ariel
Tried counting something?
T
Nope. Just lying in bed.
A
No message came back. Ariel snorted and let the phone drop onto the pillow beside her head. So much for the late-night entertainment. She shifted onto her stomach and sighed. Why the hell was she so frustrated anyway? Mary Ellen was right, she’d gotten what she was after for the night. Hot sex. So why was she so bothered that she was home alone…again?
The beep of her phone next to her ear startled her and she jolted. After letting her heart calm down, she picked up the phone and read the message.
Are you alone?
Her heart picked back up again, but for an entirely different reason. He wanted to know if she was alone? Innocent question, or something more?
All by myself. Why?
She waited anxiously, hating that she was so curious. This was a mystery guy that she would never meet. But then again, maybe that was what she needed. The thought of her mystery Texter Trav taking a sexual interest in her had her clamping her thighs together to keep the throbbing need at bay.
I don’t like a crowd.
She felt a flush take over her cheeks. Arrogant…but she liked it. Damn, she liked it. She wanted to hear more. Or, well, read more.
Her fingers were poised to return a comment when another message popped up.
I’ll leave you with that thought. Good night.
Trav
“Grr!” Frustration boiled just under the surface but she pushed it down. That was her problem, not his. Even if he started it…
She could end it. The phone made a soft thud as she tossed it onto her bag on the floor and let her hand wander down her stomach.
Masculine hands came to her mind and she could picture them slowly peeling down her panties as she did so herself. The warm air under the covers became his hot breath as he nuzzled the inside of one thigh, pried her legs apart. Long, strong fingers of the faceless Trav entered her slowly, gathering moisture before using his tongue to softly circle her clit, teasing as much as touching. Then her invisible lover picked up the speed and had her hips rocking with the rhythm.
Ariel closed her eyes and let her mind and fingers take her to a happy state. But when she relaxed, her mind replaced Trav’s vague features with Donovan’s.
Her eyes popped open to stare once more at the ceiling. No. No, no, no. One Night Stand Man didn’t belong in this fantasy. Stupid as it was, it felt like cheating…even though she had absolutely no commitment to either man.
She shifted and settled back down on the pillow, flexed her hand and closed her eyes…
And saw Donovan’s face between her legs.
Dammit! That was not going to work. Knowing it was childish, and not caring, she kicked the covers off the bed and let the night air cool her heated skin. Then one thought flew through her mind and she couldn’t stop laughing.
Fantasy Masturbation Fail.
* * * * *
Ariel grabbed a handful of forks and winced at the clatter the silverware made. She hadn’t been drunk the night before, so no hangover. But she also hadn’t slept much either, thanks to her inability to release tension without Donovan horning in on her fantasy. The lack of release plus lack of sleep left her in a bad mood.
“Wow, pissy much?” Mary Ellen asked as she glanced at Ariel’s face. “What crawled up your butt and died?”
“Nothing.” Setting the breakfast table for retreat-goers was not the time to bring up the inability to focus on a sexual fantasy. “So what did you think of Goodwin?”
“He was nice,” she replied, setting plates on the long banquet table in the dining hall. “Good timing when he showed up, right?”
“When who showed up?”
Brice, Ariel’s brother, walked up behind and gave her a peck on the cheek before walking to the head of the table. He smelled like he’d just come from the shower. His white polo with the camp’s logo on the front was a stark contrast to his coffee-with-cream complexion.
Adopted at age twelve by the Winstons, Brice had been an immediate fit. Social workers warned Ariel and her parents there would be some adjustments, some acting out. But he simply slipped into their lives as seamlessly as if he’d been born to her parents. Ariel loved to tell people he was her brother and watch the mixture of shock and confusion flit over their faces. Her, with her pale complexion standing next to Brice and his darker skin from his mixed parentage proved a puzzle to many. She’d grown out of that stage…mostly.
“Just a guy we met last night.” Mary Ellen answered Brice’s question with an It doesn’t matter tone, though Ariel knew better. And she suspected Brice did too.
Brice’s beautiful dark eyes narrowed. “Hitting up the bars again?” Though the question could have been for either one, his focus was on Mary Ellen.
“What’s it to you?” Mary Ellen set the last plate on the table and stuck her hands on her hips.
“It’s nothing to me,” Brice replied, his voice barely restrained, hands fisted at his sides.
Ariel knew that tone. There’d be blood soon. “He was a very nice guy who helped us out when we needed some assistance.” She jumped in.
Brice swiveled his head to look at her. Then his eyes went back to Mary Ellen. “Your attention seeking is going to get you in trouble one day,” he warned.
“Ooo-kay,” Ariel said. She grabbed Mary Ellen’s arm before her friend could lunge across the table and clock him. Which he would deserve. “We’re done setting up for breakfast, so consider us relieved. We’ll be back for dinner service.” Dragging a spitting-mad Mary Ellen with her, they left the dining hall and walked up the dirt path to Mary Ellen’s cabin.
Mary Ellen flung the door open and stormed inside, pacing the cabin floor like a caged tigress. Her ponytail whipped behind her with every sharp turn.
“How dare he!” she fumed. “Stick up his ass…slow poke…spiteful jackass…”
From experience, Ariel knew Mary Ellen would run out of steam soon. But until then, she’d have more luck reasoning with a pile of rocks. So she sat on her friend’s bed and waited for the storm to pass.
“Insensitive…thoughtless…”
She was winding down. No cursing.
Thirty seconds later, Mary Ellen plopped down on the bed, sufficiently out of steam.
Ariel patted her knee. “Feel better?”
Mary Ellen shrugged. There was misery in her eyes and Ariel had to wonder what it truly was that kept those two apart.
“All right. Your apprentice has the stable covered for the day. We’re free until dinnertime. Let’s just go veg out. Buy some trashy magazines, head over to The Grind, order some seriously good coffee and just sit.” She hadn’t planned it, but the minute she made the suggestion, Ariel knew she needed to relax as much as Mary Ellen did.
Mary Ellen stared at the headboard for a moment then nodded. “Okay.”
As they grabbed their bags and traded their camp polos for plain t-shirts, Ariel couldn’t help but be glad for another distraction from thinking about last night.
* * * * *
Trav opened the door to yet another coff
ee shop. The smell of grinding beans and the noise of baristas calling out names didn’t affect him any longer. At the first coffee house, his mouth had watered. The second, he’d given in and bought a coffee and muffin. Now on their twelfth coffee house of the morning, the smell was barely noticeable.
Their search for Sarah had yielded zero results. Showing her picture to baristas, he asked if she was a regular or if they’d ever seen her. A few gave a vague “maybe” but most couldn’t say.
“Can we actually get something to eat here?” Pete muttered behind him as Trav scanned the early lunch crowd. “That bagel I had at coffee place number two evaporated four shops ago.”
“Yeah, sure. Just wait for a minute.” Trav took a table in the corner where he could see the whole shop but he wasn’t easy to spot himself. If Sarah was here, he didn’t want to spook her away before he got the chance to talk to her, to ask her why she didn’t keep in contact or answer his letters.
They settled at the table and Pete shuffled through an abandoned section of the morning paper that had been left on his chair.
“Now can we get some food? I smell soup.”
“A few more minutes.” Trav scanned the crowd, looking for a familiar face. Sarah’s. Or even one of her old friends that he might recognize after all these years. But as he carefully scanned one table after another, nothing jumped out.
“Aren’t those the girls from last night?”
“What?” Trav’s gaze shot to Pete. “Where?”
“Over on the couch,” he said and pointed.
Over on the… Holy shit. It was. His Mackenzie from last night was there. Who the hell would have guessed? And she was with the redhead, Ellen. Of all the luck.
“Let’s go say hi, see what they’re up to tonight.” Pete grinned and started to get up.
Trav grabbed his arm. “Hold up. Just…hold up. Let’s wait a bit.” He needed a second to breathe or he’d sprint over there and scare the shit out of her.
Pete shrugged. “Whatever.” He leaned back in his chair and opened the paper. “Let me know when I’m allowed to eat and-or talk to women again,” he said, his eyes laughing.
This meant something. It had to. No phone numbers were exchanged, no plans were made. But they’d said maybe they’d run into each other, and there she was.
Her hair was pulled back in a high ponytail, she wore a green t-shirt and khaki shorts. Her legs were pulled up under her on the couch and she had a thick book balanced on her knees. Ellen sat to her left flipping through a magazine with rapid-fire speed.
Ellen got up and said something to Mackenzie, then got in line to order. A few moments later she sat back down and Mackenzie stood and stretched. Her shirt raised with her arms and he caught a glimpse of the band of skin over her waistband. His fingers itched to get in contact with that soft patch of skin on her lower back, her ticklish spot. Then she headed to order coffee as well.
“Now?” Pete asked, raising a brow.
“Let’s wait until they’re settled with their orders. We can go, get something to eat and then walk by and be surprised. Ask them to join us at the table.”
Pete shrugged again, absolutely no sign of anxiety on his face.
Trav, on the other hand, couldn’t keep his leg from twitching.
“Mary Ellen!” a barista called from the counter and the redhead they knew only as Ellen walked over to take the drink.
“Mary Ellen?” Pete asked. Then he smiled. “Well, I’d shorten it too. Sounds like something nuns came up with. Probably doesn’t give guys her full name when she meets them in case they’re creeps. Smart move, actually.”
“Yeah,” Trav said, but he wasn’t paying attention. He kept staring at Mackenzie’s long legs as she stretched them out on the coffee table. Her head was turned sideways and she laughed at something Ellen—no, Mary Ellen—said, her ponytail bobbing.
“Ariel!”
Trav froze. His breath caught in his chest. The world continued moving but it was like he was watching from an aquarium. His vision blurred, the noise was muted, unable to reach him over the blood pounding in his ears.
No. There was no way. His text-girl couldn’t be here. But how many Ariels could there be in the world?
“Why is that name familiar?” Pete asked.
“Shush,” Trav muttered and kept his eyes peeled. He felt his heart drop into his gut when Mackenzie stood, walked over to the barista, took the cup and gave a smiling thank-you.
“No fucking way,” he breathed.
“Seriously, why is that name familiar?” Pete asked again, annoyance in his tone.
“Shut up, Pete. I’ll tell you later.”
It had to be a joke. Some sick joke. Or a coincidence. They’d already had the fluke of running into the two girls from the night before. Could this be just another moment of oddness? Fate laughing in his face?
“Looks like they both chose fake names for us,” Pete smirked. “Can’t blame them. I mean, we didn’t tell them our first names either. So all around it makes sense.”
Pete’s voice was a distant buzz in his ear. He had to know the truth. Taking out his cell phone, he brought up his Ariel’s phone number and texted.
How’s it going today?
Trav
He hit send, then held his breath and watched.
Mackenzie—Ariel?—took a sip of her drink and picked up her book. He breathed in a sigh. Apparently not. More coincidence. Was his life full of them?
Then the object of his suspicion put down her book on the coffee table, picked up her bag from the floor, rifled through it and pulled out her phone. She slid it open and after a moment of staring at the screen, a slow smile crept across her face. Her thumbs flew across the keypad and then she shut the cell and put it on top of her book.
No fucking way was—
His phone vibrated on the table.
Trav picked up the phone and glanced at Pete. He was staring at him with a blank expression.
“What?”
“Just wondering what you’re up to. You have that look,” Pete said.
“What look?”
“The same look you always got right before a convoy. That intense Don’t bug me, important shit is coming up look.”
Travis declined to comment. He took a deep breath and opened the phone. He said a quick prayer—for what, he wasn’t sure—and opened the new message.
Good. Having coffee with a friend and studying.
Ariel
Holy shit.
She was there. His Text Girl, fifteen feet away.
“I’ve got it!” Pete’s palms slapped down on the table.
Trav jerked back, glad he wasn’t already holding a coffee. It’d be all over him by now. “What?”
“The Little Mermaid,” Pete said, looking smug.
Trav stared at him for a good twenty seconds. “What the fuck are you talking about?”
“The name.” He jerked his thumb toward the couch. “Ariel. I told you it sounded familiar. She’s the hot redheaded mermaid. Disney.”
Trav let his body fold until his forehead landed with a thump on the table. “You’ve got to be shitting me,” he muttered into the wood.
“No, really. Her name was Ariel. I remember now.”
Trav knocked his forehead twice more against the table then sat up straight. “No. Listen closely to me, Pete. Ariel is the Text Girl.” He held up his cell phone as evidence. “Remember? The one you’ve been giving me shit about?”
Pete’s face cleared and he smiled. “Right. Text Girl. Forgot.”
“Mackenzie from last night, the brunette, apparently her real name is Ariel. And now watch.” He typed in a text quickly. “I’m texting Ariel, as in Text Girl.” He hit send then pointed toward the couch.
Pete turned to watch as a few seconds later, Mackenzie-Ariel picked her phone up and opened it.
“Dude, that’s insane,” Pete stage-whispered. “Now what?”
“Now…I don’t know.”
Chapter Six
&nb
sp; Trav didn’t have a clue how to fix it. He was worried about the girls thinking they were creepy stalkers for just being at the same place two days in a row. But this? How could he explain that not only did they bump into each other by accident, but he was also the person she’d been texting for weeks now? And that he knew, but not before they slept together?
Clusterfuck, all around. He could barely believe the situation himself and he knew all the facts. He wouldn’t blame her one bit for not believing him.
“All right, all right.” He gathered his thoughts, planning even while he spoke. “In another minute or so we’ll go over and act like we just saw them. Say nothing about the texting. I’ll figure it out.”
“Let’s go get some grub,” Pete said cheerfully, not at all sharing the nervous gut Trav was battling. “I’m starving.”
Trav ran a hand over his hair and stood. “Now or never.” He followed his friend to the front of the line and kept his order simple. Black coffee and a plain bagel. His stomach wouldn’t handle anything more. Pete, on the other hand, ordered half the deli selections.
After paying, Trav walked by the couch and stopped. “Mackenzie?”
She looked up from her book, eyes round in shock. “Donovan? What are you doing here?” The book slipped from her hands and fell to the rug below with a plop and she scrambled to grab it.
Pete flopped down on the sofa on the other side of Mary Ellen. “Hey-ya, cutie.”
Mary Ellen gave him a smile back. “Hey.”
Trav couldn’t stop looking at Ariel. “We were in the neighborhood and this looked like a good place to stop for food.” He pointed to her textbook. “So is this what I was battling against for your attentions last night?”
She held up the book with a laugh. “Yup. I’m getting close to being done with my Master’s and I don’t want to risk it.”
