GRIND

by MEGAN MATTHEWS

  Saturday morning…afternoon and Cody’s dressed to impress as ever. A navy suit blazer hangs over the back of his chair while he wears a pressed white shirt with a red tie. His hair gelled with the perfect amount of fluff on top rounds out his image. It's his power outfit. He must mean business.

  “Thanks.” I blow on the steam not ready to try and drink the brownish liquid yet. “What’s up?”

  He lays both hands on the table palms down, leaving himself open should I choose to attack him with a plastic butter knife. I’m sure it’d be easy to find one lying around the café. Violent thoughts about Cody have become second nature to me. I'm not sure if I can see his face and not immediately think of nearby places to hide the body.

  “It was a shock seeing you last night. I realized with how our relationship ended between us, we never had the chance to work through the breakup. Are you doing okay?”

  He’s confused. I worked through our breakup with Ben & Jerry’s nightly. I stare at Cody unsure what to say. Sure, I’m still a bit bitter about the whole cheating aspect — who wouldn’t be — it was a traumatic time. But most of my internal comments are more for my benefit than actual hatred toward him. In fact, in this exact moment as I stare at the man I would have happily married, I realize I’m not even upset anymore.

  There’s a small piece of me that will always hold love for Cody, but I’m not in love with him any longer. It’s been less than a year, but it feels a full lifetime ago. At first I thought he’d destroyed my world, but today I realize he set me on a better course. Marrying Cody would have been a big mistake.

  I smile up at him, my entire body lighter with the recent revelation. “It’s been a hell of a year, huh?” I laugh a little. "But I’m doing well and I hope you are too.” My smile grows with every word. I’ll probably always have a snarky comment to make about Cody when the time calls for it, but he’s not a factor in my current life. I don’t even picture him with devil horns any more. Well not all the time at least. It’s a start.

  “Really?” he asks a little tense. Maybe he remembers the threats I made against him after I saw the pictures… oops.

  “Yeah, really. Hey, did you ever land the account from the guy in New York?” Cody put a lot of overtime in schmoozing with their fund manager. It meant a big pay raise for him but more late nights too.

  He finally relaxes and takes a sip of his coffee. Colombian roast with no sugar but a splash of cream. “Of course. Did you think anything less of me?” He laughs at his boast and leans over the small table getting into the conversation. "I saw Aspen in the paper with Finnegan McRyan a few months ago. What happened there?”

  I openly laugh at Cody and his question, finally composing myself enough to answer without spitting on him. “Remember the nerdy neighbor she’d been crushing on?” I wait for him to nod. “Yeah, billionaire video game designer nerdy neighbor. She moved in with him last month hence my new digs.” I point upstairs.

  “Ahh. This place makes sense then.”

  Less than ten minutes of our meeting have passed and I’ve barely sipped on my coffee, but I’m happy and ready to go. I’m about to make my good-byes when the door dings behind me and Cody blanches.

  Oh no.

  “Marissa, there you are, Kitten.” Ryland pulls up a chair to the table placing himself between Cody and me. For someone always concerned with staying incognito, he’s doing a horrible job of it today. His dark wash jeans are normal enough, but the official team jersey and United hat declare him at the least a rabid soccer fan.

  “He calls you Kitten?” Cody asks, his face full of shock and disbelief.

  “Of course I do because she’s my little bitty kitty. Right, babe?” Ryland leans over to me and tries to snuggle into my neck but I push him away rolling my eyes and scoff at him.

  “What do you need, Ryland?” I ask as I continue to push him away from my chair even though he doesn’t budge.

  He looks into my coffee cup, lifts it but after getting a smell places it back on the table. “I came to join the conversation. You know how I hate being away from you.”

  “Uh-huh.” I sip coffee as both men glower at one another, each putting up a nice display of male arrogance with their stiff backs and unblinking eyes. I could sell tickets to this little staring contest.

  “So who are you dating now, Cody, the same girl from last year? I’m sure Marissa remembers what she looks like from the pictures, but I haven’t asked."

  “Ryland.” I place my balled up fist on the table, a sign of agitation, but he doesn’t pick up on it. The couple at the table behind me get up to leave and I'm forced to slide my chair in closer to let them pass. Doing so jiggles the table and Ryland reaches out to grab my coffee before it spills.

  Then he has the balls to give me his best innocent face, one eyebrow raised in question like he can’t figure out what the problem is. “I think it’s important you remember the type of guy Cody is behind the tie.”

  “Enough.” Where the hell is the butter knife I wanted earlier? I have a new target in mind now.

  Cody straights the tie in question. “Emily is a coworker. We had post work drinks.”

  “You have a thing for coworkers, huh?” Ryland’s lips part a fraction—widely enough I could probably shove a biscuit in there to shut him up.

  “Don’t answer, Cody,” I jump in to try and save us all. If my eyes had lasers, Ryland would be dead from the way I’m glaring at him. Rather than shriek in pain, he doesn’t notice. His head’s turned toward Cody like a predator waiting to leap in and deal the killing blow. “Ryland's acting like an ass. Aren’t you, Tiger?”

  My thick-skulled landlord finally turns toward me, a stupid grin on his stubbled face. His lips change direction when we make eye contact.

  “You call him Tiger?” Cody asks, more than likely remembering how I refused to give him a nickname arguing their ridiculousness.

  I roll my eyes and lift my head, taking a play from Ryland and silently praying to the ceiling. It doesn’t help. They’re both still here when I check. “Well, Cody, this was…… an experience, but I need to finish up laundry and send hate mail to my landlord.”

  I stand up from the table leaving my mug behind, and Cody throws down a few ones as a tip. “Right. Well, I’ll see you around, Marissa.”

  “No you won’t.” Ryland places a ten-dollar bill on top of Cody’s.

  Please. Please someone help me make it to my apartment without killing Ryland. It would not be a good idea to maim him in public. I should do it behind closed doors. Less witnesses.

  Cody stands with us, but when his look filters my way, he leans forward like he’s trying to give me a hug or some other touchy good-bye with Ryland in between us. Apparently both men are morons. I’m surrounded by them.

  “Have a good weekend. Good luck with the New York stuff, Cody.” I wave and head toward the door fast before we find out Ryland’s reaction if Cody tried to touch me.

  Ryland keeps in step holding the door to leave. By the time we reach the first step in the apartment building lobby, he’s actually whistling a tune like he’s on cloud nine and completely unaware for what’s in store for him. Dumbass.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  The elevator could get me upstairs faster, but I need the stairs to help calm down so I don’t physically harm Ryland as he follows behind me. It doesn’t work. Being tired from walking only serves to make me more pissed. My body vibrates with emotions. If I wasn’t clenching my fists so hard, they’d probably shake.

  For the first two flights of stairs, I work on ways I’ll address his shitty behavior in a calm and rational way. By the third floor, my feelings bubble over and I lose my control.

  “What the fuck was that, Ryland?” I’m yelling, but there isn’t a better volume to figure out what the hell he’s thinking.

  Ryland keeps walking. “You like a guy to dress that way?” After all the male posturing I had to witness, that’s what he focuses on?

  He finally stops walking and I push on his
chest… well the top of his stomach because he’s a tall, stupid idiot. “Are you really that insecure you're bothered because Cody wore a tie?”

  “No!” He starts walking again punching in the code to access our fourth-floor hallway. “I’m fact finding. Why would you meet him at all? He cheated on you and then tried to pay off his mistress so you’d never find out. Have you forgotten? I thought you were better than that.”

  His words sting. I step on my flower doormat with a hand on the knob. I need to get away from him before the angry tears start. Why do women cry when we reach a certain point of pissed-off? It’s unfair.

  “Do you know what I was thinking while Cody and I were talking? Do you want to know, Jerkface?” His chin twitches in a quick nod. “I thought about you and how happy I've been the last month and how I’m glad we didn’t get married. Cody saved me from a huge bullet.”

  His mouth falls open and his eyes widen in shock. “You were?”

  Fucking idiot men. “Yes, dumbass. Did you think we were down there reconciling?”

  “Well… no. I guess not.” He places a hand on the white textured wall and leans on it, his eyes to the floor either thinking hard about his actions or looking for answers in the carpet. “I don’t know what I thought, but I didn’t like it. Don’t do it again.”

  I bite my lips closed while my blood boils. I cannot believe the arrogance of this man. “Do people always do exactly what you want?”

  Still checking the floor for his answers, he takes a full fucking minute to think before lifting his head to address me. “Yes.” It’s a simple strong answer——one he obviously believes.

  “That must be boring.” I slip inside my apartment only opening the door enough to let my body past and then give it a good smack to shut it on him.

  Ryland doesn’t take the hint and leave. Instead he saunters in stopping in front of the kitchen. “No, actually it wasn’t boring at all. It was simple, and calm, and quiet."

  “I think you mean boring and lonely.” I toss the comment back at him.

  “Just look at the rules.” He points to my refrigerator. “Have you followed a single one of these?” He walks to the fridge taking the piece of paper from under the magnet. “What’s the point of even having them?” He tears the paper in two throwing both pieces on top of the trash can.

  “You drive me insane, woman. You don’t listen to anything,” he says to me in annoyance and walks to the couch squishing a pillow when he sits. With hands on the top of his head he lowers it until his elbows touch his knees. “Fuck, Marissa. What I did was shitty, but I think I love you.”

  “You think you love me?” I stop a few feet from him. The air in my lungs stolen.

  “Yeah.” We make eye contact across the small living room, his brilliant blue eyes sparkling from this distance.

  “You think you love me?” I ask again.

  His expression turns wolfish when his lips turn a fraction upward. “We haven’t known each other long.” Maybe he’s trying to explain the “I think” part of his statement, but it’s the “love you” part I’m stuck on. Ryland Bates told me he loved me. I think.

  Oh. My. God. Ryland Bates told me he loved me. Half of me wants to run screaming from the room and hide. The other half wants to open a window and scream it out into the chilly winter air.

  I do neither, but rather slump down in the chair beside the couch processing this new turn of events. “You love me.” This time it’s not a question, but a statement.

  I’d like to pace as I work through exactly what his words mean, but my legs won’t move. They don’t have the strength in them to do a few laps even though the life-altering words still hover around the room.

  “Is it love to think about you constantly? When you decide to sleep at your place for the night, I miss having you in my bed. I’ve considered begging you to stay with me, but then I’d sound crazy.”

  “You could have begged me to stay.” What girl wouldn’t want their hunky neighbor to beg them to sleep over?

  “I’m trying to give you independence and not suffocate you early in our relationship.” He adjusts the baseball cap on his head. "I’ve never felt this way about a woman before. I have no idea how to handle it. Locking you in my condo probably isn’t socially acceptable, but I’ve considered it…more than once.”

  “No, probably not.” I need to add more to this conversation, but my brain is three topics behind Ryland at this point. I’m also having warm squishy feelings about being kidnapped, and that isn’t right.

  He sighs and tosses the baseball cap on the coffee table hitting the side of Goldie’s tank. “All of this is new and I’m terrified of where we'll end up in the future.”

  “You’re terrified? Ryland, I am too. You’re this big, huge soccer player who travels the globe getting paid to wear free underwear. I'm a normal girl from southern California. I hate exercising and like sleeping in on Saturdays and eating cold pizza for breakfast. You’re this big thing.” My arms fly out encompassing his body from my position. "It’d be easy to take it all and get lost in you, but then where would that leave me? Who would I be?”

  I haven’t forgotten my vow to never make a decision based on a guy again. The move a few hours north to San Francisco for Cody was one thing, but what if I were to move to Italy with Ryland and he decides I’m not worth it? I can't go through that again, especially halfway across the world. If it wasn’t for Aspen and Amanda, I’d have packed it up and moved home months ago.

  Ryland leans on his knees in front of my chair pushing my legs to either side of him. “Stop fighting us, Marissa. Get lost in me. I’m already lost in you. We’ll come out on the other side together, different, new, but still us.”

  “Promise?” I ask taking a deep breath to stop the tears getting ready to start. These are no longer from anger.

  “Promise.” His fingers wrap around my wrists pulling my hands from my face and the crappy attempt to hide my tears. “Why are you crying? Isn't this a good thing?”

  “I know. That’s why I’m crying.” I wipe my hand across my eyes thankful I didn’t put on mascara this morning.

  He tugs on my hands. “Come on. Up.”

  “Why?” My chair’s comfortable. I don’t see why I need to move. I hate crying and even more when it’s in front of people.

  He pulls me up placing a kiss on my forehead. “We fought. Now we’ll do that cuddle thing you were talking about?”

  “You want to cuddle with me?” It’s the enticement I need to follow him to my bedroom.

  He swoops down to give me another kiss on the forehead. “Don’t tell Finn.”

  I pucker my lips and lock them with an imaginary key. He didn’t say I couldn’t tell Aspen. My sniffles start to decrease and my senses return to normal, but we’re too close to my bedroom door before I realize the mistake Ryland’s about to make.

  The hinges creak as he opens the door. It’s a warning sound of trouble to come, but he doesn’t take the hint and run in the other direction. Ryland rushes in like the big breasted blonde bimbo always killed off in the first scene in every horror movie.

  “Holy shit, Marissa.” He stops and surveys the damage. “Have you even read the commandments? Did number ten get cut off your paper? Is this your idea of orderly?"

  It’s not too bad this afternoon. I hung up clothes a few days ago. I hurry and pick up the comforter off the floor throwing it on the end of the bed and toss the pile of clothes from the bed to the corner chair. The few pairs of shoes I’ve left where they fell after a hard day at work get kicked under the bed with the swipe of my foot. “I haven’t had time to pick up this weekend.”

  “So it doesn’t always look like this?” he asks, his eyes circling the room and taking in the items scattered about.

  I scoff at him. “Of course not.” Normally it looks much worse.

  He sits on the bed scootching to the side closest to the wall. “Thank God we’ll have a maid.”

  “Whatever.” I roll my eyes at him, but inside
I grin. Whether it’s at the “maid” part or the “we” comment is unknown, but I won’t question either. He pats the empty side of the bed and I drop the belt in my hand and join him resting my head beside his on the pillow. “So we’re doing this? The whole relationship thing.”

  “Yup.” He brushes my hair above my head and wraps an arm around my middle pulling me next to him so my back rests against his chest. The perfect cuddle position.

  “What about the rules?” I ask settling my body as snugly to his as possible. Even in my anger I didn’t miss him ripping them up minutes ago.

  He laughs his breath blowing a few hairs on the top of my head. “You’ve already broken all the rules.”

  “Not yet, the sheer drapes I ordered haven’t been delivered.”

  He places a kiss on my ear. “I sincerely hope you’re kidding.”

  Oops. Guess it’s time to try and cancel the order.

  “You’re not kidding, are you?” His mouth hoovers by my neck forcing him to reposition his body further down the bed.

  “I’m sure there’s time to request a refund.” I reach behind me to grab his hand wrapping it around my side and stomach.

  I trail my index finger up and down his thick strong arms following a large vein on his forearm. Laying wrapped up in Ryland is safe and warm—something I let myself envision doing for days, months, and years to come. More kisses get placed on my lower neck and collarbone moving down my shoulder a few inches. His hand travels down my stomach and stops to unbutton my jeans before reaching in and stopping at the top of my underwear.

  “Make up sex?” I roll to my back and glance up at him.

  Ryland chuckles into my neck. “This is why we’re meant to be together. Never question it.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  The little blue Corvette idles on the street in front of Cosmo’s Comics & Café, but I’m reluctant to get out. The fog's already lifted from the city and temperatures are above fifty-five. It’s set to become a beautiful day in the Bay. I have three spectacular friends waiting inside on plush couches with a sugary breakfast of French toast smothered with caramel and chocolate. Four months ago I’d be out of the car by now. Today my feet won’t move in their direction. I love my friends, but there’s someone better beside me.