Consumed

by Moira McTark

  “Look, guys, thanks for the drink. I’ve got to go. I’m sorry. I was off-base about Amber. Thanks for clearing it up for me.” Rising from his chair, Brian could hear the guys saying goodbye and yammering on about whatever, but he was pushing his way out the door before they’d finished. He couldn’t listen anymore. He didn’t know what to do. There was too much to process and the idea of setting all the things right he needed to was making him sick. He would go home and get his head straight and then he’d talk to Amber. He owed her an apology and it was long overdue.

  Chapter Eight

  Black and white snapshots of his past flickered by like stock footage from a disjointed movie reel. Brian flipped to the index of the senior yearbook and ran a thick finger down the page searching for Amber Grayson. He began flipping back and forth from the index to the pages where she appeared, learning more about her in that thirty minutes than he had in four years of high school. She looked sweet in every shot. Hugging friends, taking notes in class, doing the splits midair in her cheerleading uniform, God help him. Why didn’t baseball get cheerleaders? The last photo showed her in a group shot with the squad, all the girls smiling at the camera. All except Amber, who was looking off into the distance, a shy smile playing on her lips. He could tell from the background, she was facing the baseball diamond. And in a flash of memory he recalled a distant spring day, walking off the field and seeing all of the cheerleaders striking a pose—and Amber, offering him one of her beautiful shy smiles. Could that be this picture? Somehow, the familiarity of it left him feeling off-balance. What was he doing with this girl? How could he treat her the way he had? Talk to her the way he had? His damn ego was no excuse. He was a jackass.

  He’d called her twice, but there’d been no answer. Standing up, he grabbed his keys and headed for the door. He needed to talk to her.

  The elevator shut behind him with a hushed rush of air, leaving Brian in front of Clybourn Elliot’s double glass doors. He was starting to sweat, realizing what a stupid idea it was to come to Amber’s work. But he’d been so desperate to talk to her, and when she hadn’t been home he’d come here, the only other place he knew to look. Being Saturday afternoon, the reception lights were off, but the office area was lit by banks of florescent lights. A fiftyish woman dressed in jeans and a tee-shirt was walking toward the doors. Pushing them open, she shouted over her shoulder. “Have a good weekend, Amber, don’t stay here all night.”

  “Was that Amber Grayson you were calling to?”

  The woman looked Brian over appraisingly with a half smile. “Sure was, go ahead on back, honey.”

  Brian nodded, returning the smile, but once inside he felt like a criminal gaining entry under false pretense. He was here now, so he forced his legs to move and began walking through the complex maze of partitions in search of her desk. She’d be busy, so all he would do is ask if he could see her later, take her to dinner. Talk to her.

  Arrogant ass that he was, he hadn’t bothered making plans with Amber since that first night, but today he couldn’t risk missing her. He had to explain, to apologize, to beg for another chance.

  Muffled voices filtered in and out from somewhere toward the back of the office. He was getting closer.

  “…We’re alone now…missed you… so sorry…”

  Brian froze, he could barely make out the words, but instantly knew who was speaking them. Eric. Amber’s sub-par boyfriend. Ex-boyfriend.

  Amber’s voice sounded in a low groan. “Eric…” Were they making up, making love?

  Brian hung his head and, feeling sick to his stomach, turned to leave. What right did he have to interfere? Two steps later he stopped, took a deep breath and clenched his jaw. No way. He couldn’t leave without telling her how he felt. That he was sorry. He didn’t deserve a chance, but he was going to ask her for one anyway. In front of Eric, in front of anyone, it didn’t matter how fast she shut him down. He’d never be able to live with himself if he didn’t try.

  “…I want you…”

  “…Eric, I said no…”

  Brian’s brow furrowed, his chest tightened and blood began to pump through him at an increasing rate. Faster he moved though the maze, looking into each passing partition.

  Closer, “Damn it, get off of me—”

  Brian reached the last cube in two strides. Amber was backed up against the desk, Eric cornering her at the wall. Brian’s vision tunneled as he reached out, grabbed Eric by the belt and the back of his shirt, all but tossed him to the far side of the cube.

  “Aghgh! What the—” Eric screeched as Brian lifted him up and slammed him into the wall.

  “What part of ‘no’ don’t you understand?”

  “Brian, oh my God!” Amber was behind him, her hands on his shoulders. “Please put him down, he’s done, he didn’t hurt me.”

  He looked back, saw the shock and fear on her face. Not wanting to add to it, he released his hold, letting the slighter man slip to the floor.

  Coughing, Eric stood up straighter.

  “Mr. High School, huh? I should sue your ass for touching me. You’re trespassing, get out of here.”

  “I’m not going anywhere, but, by all means, call the cops, I’m thinking they should be here anyway.”

  Eric’s eyes darted around the small space. He ducked and grabbed his messenger bag, trying to push past Brian, but ended up knocking himself to the floor when Brian’s mass didn’t give under the assault. The bag flipped open, spilling dozens of CD files and stacks of printed out code.

  Amber ducked to her knees, flipping through the slew of paper. “This is my code, Eric. What the hell?” She blanched as understanding dawned. “It was you—”

  “You don’t know what you’re talking about. Those files are confidential, hand them over right now. I was trying to help you, Amber.”

  She looked at him aghast. “Bullshit!” Flipping through the pages, she pointed to a line with scrawled purple ink around it. “This code is correct and your notes here are the exact error they found. You were trying to get me fired.”

  “No, it’s not what you think. I wanted us to be together, I wanted you to come to New York with me. I was wrong, but it’s because I love you. I’m sorry, give me another chance.”

  “Screw you.” Amber picked up the desk phone and started dialing. “I’m calling Michaels and the cops. You’re getting fired and then going to jail.”

  Brian stood scowling over Eric, refusing to let him pass.

  Listening to the very words he had planned to say come out of Eric’s mouth had made him feel even more pathetic. He had no right to ask for anything.

  Eric tried to move for the door, but Brian stepped into his path.

  “Just give me a reason.”

  Amber glanced over her shoulder at Brian, who had been sitting in the corner since he finished with the cops and her boss had arrived. Excusing herself she walked over to him.

  “Brian, I’m glad you showed up when you did, but what are you doing here?”

  Even amidst the chaos with Eric, seeing Brian round the corner had brought one thought to her mind. He’d come back to her. But in the moments that had passed since, she’d sensed a difference in him, and wondered what prompted the change, what it meant for their relationship.

  “I wanted to talk to you, but not right now, it can wait. I’ll wait…here…until you’re ready to go.”

  Holding up a hand at her boss to signal one more minute she turned and smiled nervously at Brian. “No, you go. It’s going to be a while here. I’ve got some work to sort out, but later. Okay?”

  “Sure, no problem. Later. Good luck, call me if you need anything at all.”

  —

  Even at half past seven, the late August air was hot and humid, the sky still bright. Amber’s mind was lost in work, confusion over how she could have missed Eric’s sabotage, as she turned the corner and headed up the concrete stairs of her building. She leaned her back against the wide glass pane and pushed. It didn’t budge. She looked ba
ck with a frown and noticed the shiny copper of a new fitting against the “security” door, which hadn’t actually secured once since she’d moved into the place. Fumbling for her keys, she looked inside and saw Brian coming down the stairs in a worn pair of jeans and a tee-shirt. Her mind snapped to the here and now as he offered a smile and opened the door from the other side. He was waiting for her.

  “How did it go back at the office?”

  “It was confusing and frustrating to find out what Eric was up to, but I think we got a lot of it straightened out. I’m just exhausted. Is there any way we can just forget about it for now?”

  He nodded with a slight shrug. “I fixed your lock.”

  She stared, not sure what to say. “Wha—”

  “I don’t like the idea of anyone being able to walk in here any time they like. I spoke to your landlord—what an asshole—and he didn’t have a problem with my fixing the door. Here’s your new key.”

  He fished in the pocket of his jeans and pulled it out.

  “Thank you. I’ve always felt pretty safe, but it did bother me that the door never locked. After asking to have it repaired ten times, I just got used to it.”

  She felt somehow awkward talking with Brian about the security of her building and thanking him for the protective measure. She’d thanked him plenty of times for his generosity in the bedroom, but never for something like this. Never for something heartfelt. It made her surprisingly self-conscious. Nervous.

  “Would you like to come up? I’m just throwing a salad together for dinner, but…I have enough for both of us.”

  Brian’s gaze seemed to reflect the same uncertainty she was feeling. In the past, there had never been a question of his coming up. Or what they were going to be doing once he did. He would show up at her door. When she opened it, he pushed his way in and took her, both of them hot and demanding. This was different. He’d built a level of security for her. Allowing her another defense with which to hold him back. Did she want another layer of defense between them? Or did she enjoy that subtle sense of lost control? The power out of her hands. Submission to his hunger and lust.

  “You’ll have to let me in. I just gave you the key.”

  “No spare?” she asked, but of course he wouldn’t keep one.

  “Landlord has all the copies.” Brian reached over her shoulder and pulled the door open for her. The gentleman. No, she knew better. A pulse of heat throbbed between her legs as she wondered what kind of ungentlemanly behavior he might engage in upstairs. Or maybe that wasn’t his intention at all. He’d wanted to talk to her. With her anxiety on the rise, she led the way.

  The air inside the apartment was stuffy. She’d closed it up before she left for work, thinking there might be rain. But the sun had held off the showers all day and by evening the clouds had been swept away. Amber and Brian opened the windows and turned on the ceiling fan in the living room.

  “Glad I didn’t promise you a lasagna. I can’t even imagine lighting a candle in this heat, let alone turning on the oven.”

  He nodded from across the room. “What can I help you with?”

  “Nothing. I’m just chopping up a few things, I made the dressing this morning.”

  Brian seemed satisfied to survey the apartment as she worked in the kitchen, staring at his wide back as he fingered through her CD collection and selected Mazzy Starr to play softly in the background.

  She chopped up some grilled chicken breasts and roasted red peppers, asparagus and fresh mozzarella, piling it into a large bowl as she finished with each item.

  Brian opened the small Tupperware of dressing, smelled and then tasted with the tip of his pinky.

  “Wow, that’s good. Honey?”

  “Mmhmm.”

  He moved around the kitchen opening a few cabinets until he located the dishes. He selected two shallow bowls, running his finger around the vegetable relief at the edge of one as he set them carefully on the counter. He moved to another cabinet with the glassware.

  “Wine? Water?”

  Watching him move around her kitchen searching out dinnerware was having a strange effect on Amber. The normalcy of his actions seemed out of place in the fantasy relationship she was living out with him. There was sex, but the conversation had died weeks ago, after that first night. That first night when Brian had taken her in the kitchen where she now stood, chopping and preparing a casual dinner for two. Strange. Brian, still poised with his hands at the cabinet, looked back over his shoulder at her and Amber had to remind herself to answer.

  “White wine. And maybe water too. It’s pretty hot. I’ve got a Pino Grigio in the door of the fridge.”

  Brian pulled out the stemware and retrieved the wine. Pouring two glasses, he handed one to her. It was delicious, cooling its way down her throat. Crisp. Clean. A contradiction to her time spent with the man who had poured it.

  They stood in the kitchen leaning casually back against the counter while they drank the wine and ate the salad. Even eating standing up, Brian wowed her with his manners and good form. He used a napkin and a fork, but what had she expected? Beast in the bedroom that he was, it wasn’t like he would shove his face in the bowl and lick up the dressing.

  He leafed through one of the Fusion Cookbooks she had lying out on the counter, pointing out recipes that looked good. Recipes that looked complicated, but that he guessed would be worth it. She liked his presence in this casual setting. The nearness that offered more than physical pleasure, though her body was responding to him nonetheless. Amber’s stomach tightened as she watched him relaxing in her home. This was what she wanted for her reality, even if she knew it wasn’t real.

  This was not the way he saw her. Not the way he spent time with her. Not the way it would stay.

  She was vulnerable. If she was smart, she’d turn on the attitude and change the tone. Regain control of the situation. Realign the expectations so she couldn’t be hurt. If she was smart, that was what she would do, but she couldn’t bring herself to make it end. She couldn’t lash out with cruel words and the offer of intense sex. Not when she had this brief moment of perfection to live through. No matter how painful the descent from this elevated place would be, she wanted it. Every minute, every second, as long as it lasted. Even though it wasn’t real.

  She hadn’t realized that she’d been clutching the plate so tightly until Brian’s strong hands smoothed over her white knuckles and gently pried the earthenware from her grip. He set the plate on the counter atop his own.

  The heat of his body radiated against her already hot skin, he stood so close. She was afraid to look into his eyes. Afraid that she might see the unguarded warmth and attraction she had so briefly glimpsed that first day. Afraid that she wouldn’t. She didn’t want to know what simmered behind the sea blue eyes.

  Keeping her chin down, averting her gaze, she reached for her glass and took a slow sip. How long could he stand there, patiently waiting her out?

  He took the glass from her and with a crooked finger under her chin, tilted her head up to look at him. His startling blue eyes locked on hers, taking her breath away.

  “I can’t be cold with you anymore. I don’t like pretending to be that guy. It’s not the way I am.”

  Her lips trembled. What could she say? That she knew he wasn’t being real with her? He felt real, but the callous rebuttals and sparring banter, that wasn’t him. It wasn’t her, for that matter. It was a means to an end. And she was ashamed to admit it, even to herself.

  “So, where does that leave us?” She prayed the question wouldn’t prompt his immediate exit from the apartment and her life.

  His head lowered, closing the distance between them. She could feel his breath against her cheek and over her lips, until his mouth covered hers in a slow, sinking kiss. The sigh that escaped her, unbidden, came from deep in her heart, and was trapped and taken gently by Brian’s waiting mouth. He circled his arm loosely against her waist and when she tilted her head up, slanting to sink further into his kiss
, his own sigh volleyed back to her. He was so tender by nature. When his tongue traced the outer edge of her bottom lip and then slid into her mouth, brushing against hers, he tasted like sweet wine.

  Her arms slinked around his neck and rested there as he lazily explored her mouth. His kiss so slow and seductive, she could have melted into a pool at his feet, only that would have ended the contact and she wanted to feel the soft touch forever. For as long as he would give her. She tangled her own tongue with his, absorbing the heat of his body, stoking the small flame fueling her simmering desire.

  How had they never kissed like this before? Like they had forever to savor every slow touch, light probe, graze of fingertips and flesh against flesh. It was leisurely, the pace of his touch, a promise they had all the time in the world. Her heart fluttered against her chest as Brian leaned into her, bending her back in a soft arch. He ran his hand from her neck down her chest, around the side of her breast and ribs, back over the curve of her hip and thigh. Where he leaned between her legs, she could feel the length of him growing between them, the hard swell of his erection impossible to miss. But rather than drag her off to the bed or down to the floor, he moved his hands back up to the tiny buttons of her shirt and opened each one, dropping a kiss along the path of newly revealed skin.

  Amber sifted her fingers through his hair as he bent low to run his mouth down the line of her stomach and lick a slow circle around her belly button. She whimpered softly, feeling a new gush of moisture pulse between her legs. He shifted his arms around to one side and swept her off her feet before carrying her back into the bedroom.