Rash Decisions

by Alex Rosa

  Her magenta lips widen. “I mean, it’s not like you actually like me, right? I thought this was about sex for both of us.”

  I grab for my wine, needing a dose of numb. “Yeah, I guess.”

  “Well, if you aren’t heartbroken, then is it okay if I leave? Unless you want me to be your girlfriend?” This time her lips curl like the Grinch’s, and she lets out a laugh. “I know that isn’t your style, Troy.”

  I soften my demeanor, realizing she’s doing me a favor and I have nothing to be offended by. “No, I’d rather not. Have a good night, Allison.”

  She rises from the table, smoothing out her short dress. “Thanks for dinner. I mean that. You know where to find me if you ever want a latte, or a night of no strings attached.”

  Thank the heavens for women like her in New York City.

  This time I honestly smile. “Thanks.”

  We exchange twisted looks of acknowledgment before her heels click in the direction of the exit.

  I look at my watch. 10:00PM. Elizabeth should be asleep by now.

  “Waiter, check please!”

  I open my front door quietly, purposefully being sneaky.

  I told myself the entire journey here and during the ride in the elevator that I’m driving myself insane for nothing. I try to remind myself that Julia is the enemy, but my gut clenches in disagreement.

  That’s why I can’t figure out why I’m creeping into my own apartment.

  Elizabeth’s squeals of joy echo from the living room, and I roll my eyes hearing that she isn’t tucked into bed yet.

  “Do you like him?” Elizabeth chirps.

  “Lizzy, you’re so ridiculous.”

  Another giggle, and I’m all ears. Who does Julia like? That guy she mentioned at lunch? The dumb runner on the block who’s probably some low-life from Brooklyn?

  “I don’t know yet,” Julia replies, her voice almost wistful even from this far away. “I think I could like him, and that’s good enough for me. We’ll see tomorrow if I’m right.”

  She’s seeing him tomorrow? My insides recoil. Julia might be too naive for a city like this, and I’m confident that any guy here would take advantage of that, especially when they get a look at her.

  I can’t take hearing any more, feeling like I’m sinking in quicksand with every passing thought when it comes to Julia Ferris.

  “I’m hooommee!” I shout from the hallway, trying to seem as if I just walked in.

  I stroll into the living room and Elizabeth seems to be scrambling off of her perched spot upon Julia’s stomach as she lies on the couch.

  Wow, they got cozy quick. I can’t remember the last time I saw Elizabeth so relaxed.

  Elizabeth tries zooming past me, knowing where she should be, but my arms dart out, catching her mid run. “Gotcha!”

  A yawn interrupts her giggles and I raise my eyebrows, shooting Elizabeth a disapproving look before turning to Julia. “I thought I had mentioned her bed time?” I try for stern, but when I take in the sight of Julia, I stumble a bit. Her face looks happy, and worn of makeup. It’s a charming look on her. Her bedroom eyes lift softly to mine, and my dick twitches. Fuck. Please don’t look at me that way.

  She, too, lets out a yawn, stretching her arms upward, giving me a full view of her toned stomach, and my dick only wants to harden further. If she doesn’t stop right now I’m going to go from six o’clock to midnight.

  “You were right. She somehow convinced me to watch this show called Cosmos. Have you seen it? I never knew I could discuss Earth’s placement in the solar system with a seven year old.”

  Elizabeth squirms in my arms and bashfully buries her head into my neck.

  Julia’s eyes never leave mine, and the corner of my mouth rises. “She does that.” I want to say more but the humming coming from a fast asleep Elizabeth in my arms interrupts my thoughts.

  Suddenly, Julia is right in front of me, her body almost close enough to mine to be touching. The smell of jasmine soothes my nerves, yet the rapid thumping of my heart won’t slow. She lifts her hand to my daughter’s face, brushing a strand of hair away from her cheek as she says, “Troy, if you ever did anything right, it was creating this little monster.”

  My chest swells with pride, but I don’t say a word. Instead, I nod and examine the petite curve to Julia’s nose, and the light freckles that dot the bridge of it that I didn’t notice before.

  I take a step away from her, needing some space to clear my head of Julia Ferris, even if it requires as little as a three feet radius.

  “I’m gonna put her to bed.”

  Julia, seemingly not noticing my body’s betrayal in her presence, follows me into Elizabeth’s bedroom. I didn’t expect her to. She watches me from the doorway put Elizabeth in bed, covering her with her purple comforter, and tucking her favorite rhino stuffed animal under her arm.

  When I turn around, Julia is staring at me with a wolfish grin.

  “What’s that look for?” I ask as I walk toward her, placing me close to her within the doorway.

  She looks up at me, tilting her head in what can almost be interpreted as admiration, and instantly the idea feels foolish and exciting.

  “You. I never thought fatherhood would suit you, but it kinda does.”

  The angsty pout that accompanies her words right after has me wanting to kiss her. All I would need to do is lean in. Would she let me?

  The thought is staggering. Those bedroom eyes tell me yes, but I’m not convinced.

  I pull in a deep breath; facing the same struggle I’ve had all evening.

  I give her one solid look and a tight smile before I walk past her to the kitchen, needing a glass of water to satisfy my dry mouth.

  When Julia walks in she still has this knowing smile. I gulp water from the glass, her eyes on me, and if I’m not mistaken, they slide down my body slowly, which might be a first.

  “She likes you,” I blurt out.

  Julia grins, and it makes my insides warm. She cares about Elizabeth even after such a short time, and that particular topic means a lot to me.

  “And I like her,” she replies. “I thought I would feel silly to say a seven year old would be my first friend in NYC, but no, I was wrong. She’s great. For being so smart, she’s still such a character. I can barely keep up.”

  We both share a laugh, knowing exactly what that means.

  “Also, thanks for allowing me to babysit your child. I know it must’ve been tough to accept someone new so last minute, but it was a pleasure.” She picks up the five twenties I left her on the counter as her smile is quickly replaced with a scowl. “But this is too much. I can’t, and won’t take all of it. I’ll take a twenty and we’ll call it even.”

  I step closer to her, walking around the kitchen island to stand in front of her, and I see her confidence waver in her eyes.

  “You gave up your Friday night to help me out. The least I could do is pay you a premium.”

  Her eyes lock onto mine wickedly. She takes one twenty, stuffs it into her tight jeans, and then presses the other four against my chest, holding them there until I grab for the bills.

  It’s the first time we’ve had any sort of physical contact. The latte incident does not count. Her fingertips against my chest shoot out sparks on the surface of my skin, leaving a searing impression.

  She pulls away, leaving me to grab for them before they fall.

  “How was your date?” she asks, side stepping the previous topic.

  She doesn’t budge from her closeness with me but breaks our eye contact.

  “It was horrible, and all I could think about was you and your stupid ugly sweater wishing that we didn’t work together and that you weren’t such a frustratingly, sexy medusa of the business world.”

  Well, that’s what I want to say.

  I notice with her closer again that there’s a smudge of chocolate on her upper lip, and I can’t help myself, eager for any misplaced co
ntact I can get. The want overrides logic.

  I lift my hand, lick the pad of my thumb, and move my hand to cup her jaw, rubbing over the smudge on her mouth.

  I feel her petrify and heat in my hand, and the reaction is all the more intriguing. It isn’t until I let go that she exhales.

  That’s it. I can’t take it anymore.

  “Would you at all be interested in going out sometime?”

  This time Julia takes a step back, her eyes knitting together in adorable apprehension.

  “Excuse me?”

  I know I’m dumb for asking. I’m sure it’s not only idiotic, but too soon. Of course this is a terrible idea, but I want it, and I don’t care. Irrational or not.

  I run my hand through my hair, trying to figure out a way to recover, but I’m the type of man who follows through.

  “I was wondering if you’d like to go to dinner some time … with me.”

  “Like on a date?” she rhetorically asks, bringing her sleeve to her mouth to chew on the cuff.

  My dick hardens a bit again. If she doesn’t stop all this right now I might be stupid enough to try and kiss her, too. Now that would be foolish, but something tells she wants it as much as I do. My instincts tell me that, and so do her eyes … most of the time. Well, when she isn’t scolding me.

  I’m an idiot.

  She raises her hand with her shrug. “Do you have any idea how bizarre that sounds?”

  “Yes, but I still wanted to ask you.”

  Her eyes give an intensity of dark, blazing copper, but their doe like shape has me thinking my gut is right.

  “No,” she states.

  “No?”

  “No.” She repeats.

  “Why not?” I ask, my body taking an involuntary step toward her, closing the distance she put between us before. She doesn’t move. She just looks up at me with those large, puppy dog eyes while chewing on that sleeve.

  “First of all, we work together. That should be reason enough. However, just in case you need more evidence to why it’s a terrible idea, don’t you remember that you hate me?” Her tone comes off harsher then the look in her eyes.

  I shake my head, rolling my eyes, and then swing them back to her. I’m tempted to touch her again, even if it’s just resting my hand on her perfect, naked shoulder, but I don’t.

  “You know I don’t actually hate you, and if what you think is going on is hatred, then you’re wrong about that, too. We’re both acting out of necessity because of work. Just one date, and then you can go back to hating me, too”

  Her eyebrows pucker. “Do you see how this doesn’t make sense when both people think the other person hates them?”

  “I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t think there was a possibility you’d say yes, although I’m perfectly prepared for a no.”

  She finally pulls her sweater away from her mouth to laugh, her eyes scrunching into a scowl, but her smirk has me mirroring her look.

  “Why would you think that’s a possibility?”

  Women! They always want explanations. I want her. No doubt about that, but I won’t string this out because she needs validation. She always aggravates me, even within the two weeks that I’ve known her.

  “I’m not going to give into that. I think we both know there’s an attraction between us.”

  She scoffs this time. “Troy Dillinger, you are modest.”

  I laugh, which ignites my favorite wry curve to her lips.

  “Will you let me take you out on a date or not?”

  She purposefully and dramatically drags her eyes over every line of my body. My dick encased in my briefs is only turned on by the maneuver.

  “No.” She replies curtly, and turns on her heels to grab for her purse.

  I’m baffled by the exchange and begin following her like a dog around my apartment as she gathers her things, a cellphone on the coffee table, and then to her car keys in the kitchen.

  “Are you serious?” I ask.

  She stops just short of the front door and I’m following so close behind I almost walk into her. Instead, when we stop our bodies are close again, and I swear my body begins a buzz I don’t remember having since I was fifteen and I started crushing on Bethany Clark freshman year of high school.

  “I’m saying no based on the principle that you assumed I’d say yes.”

  “Noooooo,” I whine, shaking my head childishly, and her lips twist devilishly again. I’m tempted to try that kiss. “I didn’t say I assumed you’d say yes. What I was assuming is that you find me attractive.”

  “Ha!” She scoffs. “Troy, that’s the exact reason why I should be saying no.”

  I test the waters and take a step forward, which would have had our bodies pressed together, but instead she takes a step back. Her mouth only widens more as if egging on the chase. I step further until she’s back against a wall. Our bodies only slightly touching, and I notice her shallow breaths match mine.

  “You don’t have to teach me a lesson by saying no,” I reply.

  “I know I don’t,” she breathes out, her mouth relaxing as if preparing to be kissed, but she makes no move.

  I lower my head to hers, getting dangerously close now. She doesn’t resist.

  “Is it because of that date you have tomorrow?”

  This question seems to fling her back to reality as she places her palm against my chest, and my body is hungry for more contact now. I grab for her wrist, holding her hand there as she pushes me away.

  “I knew you were in the hall when I was talking to Lizzy! I knew it!”

  She shoves at me playfully, bringing her other hand to help, and I grab for that wrist too as our laughter tangles around each other again.

  “Would it make any difference if I told you how much I like you and why I’d like to take you out?” I ask, hoping this is my way in.

  I don’t know what’s come over me, but if she wants it, I’d have the words ready for the answer. I’ve already asked her out. I have nothing else to hide now.

  “No,” she replies haughtily. “I’m going on a date tomorrow and I think it’s better I try that out before I ever consider you.”

  Her words might be insulting to other people, but I hear something a little differently. “So, you’re saying you’d consider going on a date with me?”

  “I think I liked you better when you hated me.”

  I huff as she pulls her arms free from my grasp. She can’t hide that flirty look glimmering in her eyes as she tries to look away.

  “I think I’m gonna call it a night, Troy.” She starts her goodbye, trying to drop the topic now. “Lizzy is wonderful, and if you ever need a babysitter again for one of your hot dates, you know who to call.”

  I open my mouth to speak, but she covers my mouth with her hand. “No-No, Troy. That’s not a topic for conversation. Goodnight.”

  She waits until she feels my grin beneath her palm before she lifts it away, and reaches to open the door.

  “It’s just one date, and this isn’t the last time I’ll ask,” I quip.

  She looks tempted to speak more, but instead shakes her head and closes the door behind her.

  I might have lost the battle, but I definitely have not lost the war.

  This isn’t even close to over.

  When my door buzzes, so do my insides. I tried my best to look cute in the attire Noah had suggested which was casual. He told me to wear something I could relax and walk in. No heels. No dresses. Just me, being me.

  Sure, it’s something I prefer, but I have yet to perfect “date-me” in a sweatshirt and jeans.

  Here’s to hoping, I think as I tug at my sweater as a compromise, the v-neck dipping low enough to keep a man wondering.

  When I swing the front door open, it’s like seeing Noah for the first time, although I feel like I know him pretty well. A week of nearly constant text messages can provide a lot of insight. Sure, I had committed to memory his chiseled jaw,
thick scruff, and youthful wrinkles around his eyes when he smiled at me during our fifteen minute encounter, but I wasn’t prepared for this.

  “Hi,” he exhales as the corners of his mouth rise.

  I gulp down air, wondering where the city cop went because I see nothing but tempting hunk that has me holding onto the door for support.

  Noah’s chestnut hair looks windblown, and I can’t get over how bright his eyes are. A luminescent hazel that is kind and not overly intense as I expect them to be. It’s his smile that helps soften his look.

  He looks like a rogue prince charming, and I’m willing to be his damsel in distress as I take in his worn jeans and olive green button up jacket that encases his build to perfection. All he needs is a white horse.

  I lick over my bottom lip in the hopes of wetting my palette enough to get some words out.

  “Hello.”

  He ruffles his hair and blatantly takes in the sight of me. “You do casual very well.”

  That’s a compliment, right?

  My body slumps in relief. I tangle my fingers through my hair like a teenage girl would on a first date, and it’s just as awkward as it sounds. “Thanks.”

  He chuckles, and my body comes to life remembering the sound from before. Deep and gooey, like melting caramel. Yeah, just like that.

  “I didn’t realize I’d be so nervous once I saw you again. Not that I don’t remember how pretty you were when we met—just, wow. I’m a lucky guy.”

  I squint. Unsure of why his upfront compliment doesn’t sit well with me. My initial reaction is to question its sincerity, but it feels wrong this time. I’ve also never been good at taking compliments.

  “Sheesh. New York City must have gotten to you already. I know that look. Some of us aren’t so bad. I don’t bite, Jules.”

  Why not?

  I did not just think that. Or maybe I want Noah to have a bite to him. His effortless smile is most definitely igniting my lower half, but I wonder if Noah can blaze out of control. He’s just so nice, which is refreshing, but also something I’m not so used to.

  I’m ready to redeem myself by offering an explanation, but he doesn’t need one as he reaches out for my hand, taking hold of it. His fingertips rough and warm against mine. It’s this tiny gesture of comfort that’s new and exciting.