by K B Cinder
“She’s beautiful,” I murmured, refusing to describe Elena like a piece of meat. “A perfect fit.”
She was more than that, but the fewer details, the better with Luke. He would shit all over it in a heartbeat, more jaded than I’d ever been. While I’d mess around with the same girl for a few weeks, Luke was strictly hit it and quit it, never keeping a chick around for more than one or two nights.
Elena was a friend. She was off-limits in a lot of ways, our secret held close to the vest for more than professional reasons. In Ithaca, she was my sense of calm, a person to trust in a den of deceit.
“Tall and skinny with legs for days? You love those string beans, I swear.”
“She’s built like a fantasy,” I replied, glancing at my inbox as a wave of new messages poured in. It would be another long night at the office. “But she’s brilliant and hilarious too.”
She was the polar opposite of my past, a beacon of light and laughter, who left me longing for her rays of warmth when she wasn’t around. It was enough to draw lines in the sand, protecting us both in the long run. It was hard to fuck her and drop her off after like a call girl, but boundaries were boundaries. I didn’t do relationships, period.
“You mean you actually talk to this one?” he laughed. “Usually you like your dick down their throat so they can’t talk. Damn, I thought I’d never see the day...”
“Shut up,” I grumbled.
She wasn’t like the others. She was more than a set of fake tits and a hole to fuck, real in every sense of the word — tits included. There were no ulterior motives. No demands.
“You like her?” he pushed.
“Of course I like her. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t spend almost every day with her.” The words fell out of my mouth before I could stop them. What the hell was I saying?
“Oh, really? Getting serious now?” he teased. “Heard from Bianca?”
My guts twisted. “Let’s not go there.”
There was no sense bringing Bianca into things. Some of life’s baggage was better left in the dark where it belonged, and an ex that liked sending random texts every so often was no exception.
“It’s a valid question.”
“No, it isn’t.”
I knew he wouldn’t drop it, but I wasn’t giving in, focusing on the task at hand as I booked a room in Chicago. I had meetings with the current national director, taking on some of his duties as he transitioned out of the role. It’d be hell to do more tasks on top of Ithaca, but I had to make it work, even with the week-long national conference I had to fly to straight after in DC.
“You’re talking about liking a chick you’re fucking. I think Bianca and what not factor into the equation, no?”
Luke was always the first to call me on my bullshit. That’s what the middle child was for. They were a moral thorn in everyone’s side, always looking to keep the family intact. Bianca was a constant threat to it. Especially if another woman was involved.
“You’re being a jackass.”
“I’m looking out for you, dude,” he insisted. “I don’t want to see you get pinched.”
I ignored him and marked off the two weeks I’d be out of town on the company calendar, tagging additional days where visits would have me out of the office. I’d be getting to know New England like never before.
“If you like this one, you’ll tell her about Bianca,” he urged. “I know you better than anyone and would hate to see it implode on you.”
“Says the guy that hasn’t been in a relationship for more than a decade,” I shot back, instantly regretting my words. It was a low blow for a guy that had been all but gutted in the past. “Look, I like her, yes. I’m fucking her, yes. But that doesn’t mean it’s something that requires Bianca to be involved.”
“How so?” he demanded. I’d struck a nerve with the relationship jab.
“Because it ends once my assignment is over. We have an agreement.”
“And you really think she shouldn’t know?” he pressed.
“No, we’re not dating. You sound soft like Ethan.”
He sighed loudly. “Jason, I hear it in your voice. You like this one.”
“That’s neither here nor there.”
What was I saying?
“Jason, I’m not trying to be an ass, but hear me out. If you like this girl like I think you do, you need to do the right thing. She needs to know the truth.”
Elena
“Fuck!” Jason groaned, thrusting one last time before falling to pieces.
He flopped to the bed, covered in sweat, muscles glistening in the light. It was the same dance we enjoyed night after night, though the location varied from the bed to the balcony to the kitchen counter. That night it was the sofa and his bed; our destination changed thanks to a leg cramp on my end.
Sex was supposed to be the only thing involved, but things had developed to include more. We watched movies, reviewed reports, and checked out stocking packages together, exploring the takeout of the area all the while. We formed a bond over a love of numbers, shitty horror flicks, and foodie finds.
He picked me up after work, and we settled in with tacos and spreadsheets, babbling over the items I flagged and exploring new product lines. It was nice to have my opinions respected, even if he thought the wire fasteners I found were a waste of time.
He was more than a man of steel beneath the broody facade, pinches of personality poking through when he thought no one was looking. He excelled at seemingly everything he did, perfecting chopsticks like a pro minutes after I taught him, putting my skills to shame. He could also cook like nobody’s business, whipping up a few meals that made me look as domestic as a wild hog.
He also had a soft side, reluctantly agreeing to watch Dirty Dancing one night and knowing every word of the film. He didn’t speak them aloud, but I caught him mouthing lines when he thought I wasn’t paying attention. He might not have led onto it, but there was a warmth in there somewhere.
I watched his chest rise and fall before he rolled over, leaving me alone on my side of his bed. That’s right. The left side was all mine. That was another update. I had my side of the bed and my spot on the couch.
“I’m heading out of town for a bit...” he trailed, standing to pull his briefs on.
“Supplier meets?” I asked, sitting up. “NorCon is coming up.”
“You follow NorCon?”
“Duh.” It was the biggest industry event in the state. Marty went every year, scoring a hotel stay courtesy of Croft in New York City.
“You ever been?” He tugged his shirt over his head, covering up his delectable abs.
“No,” I replied, pulling on clothes, knowing this was the part where he drove me home. “That’s usually Marty’s gig.”
While we were bonding over other things, the mood always changed with sex. It was a switch for him, shutting off the warmth. He transformed into a robot that quickly took me home after.
It made me feel cheap, but I didn’t say a word, enjoying what we had aside from the few stinging minutes of embarrassment. There were intimacy issues there, but I’d never push. It wasn’t my place. We all had our reasons for building up walls. Besides, he was more than a fuck buddy; he was a friend.
“Want to go?” he asked, sliding his jeans on.
“I can’t go with you!” I objected. There was no way in hell we could traipse around New York City together and not get caught.
“I didn’t say that. I asked if you wanted to go.”
“Of course I do,” I muttered, frustrated with the bite to his voice. “I’ve wanted to since I started at Croft.”
“Then I’ll make arrangements for you and Lee.”
I felt guilty accepting a trip from the guy I was banging, but it’d be the perfect opportunity to network. If the stars aligned, I could find a dream job at the convention.
“How?” I asked, pulling my sweater on.
“Don’t worry about it.”
“Are you sure Marty won’t mind?” The
last thing I needed was their Cold War to get worse. I was already struggling to remain neutral to keep the peace.
“Who gives a fuck about Marty?” he shot back. “Nothing has to be approved by him! I’m his boss! I make the calls!” He wasn’t yelling, but he was practically snarling, fraying my nerves.
I finished getting ready, the only sound in the suite the rumbling of the air conditioning despite being well into fall.
The ride to my place was equally icy, not a word spoken.
“I’ll be out of town for two weeks,” he said, pulling into my complex minutes later, finally breaking the silence between us.
“Okay,” I muttered, not sure what to say to that.
“I’m leaving in the morning.”
“Have fun,” I replied, opening the car door as he parked.
“Elena-” he called, catching my wrist.
“Yes?” I turned to face him, his expression finally relaxing.
“I’m sorry for being short with you,” he breathed. “I’m taking my frustration out on you, and it’s not right.”
I offered him a lopsided grin and pressed a kiss to his stubbled cheek. “You’re forgiven,” I murmured. I had no right to hold any grudges. I wasn’t exactly attitude-free all the time.
He sighed before kissing me gently. “I’ll miss you, Keebler.”
I didn’t know if he was talking about the next two weeks or after January, but I wouldn’t push. I knew where I stood and how I’d feel when the day came.
“I’ll miss you too.”
We walked to my unit in silence, Jason always the gentleman in walking me to my door. The building was dead quiet; most of my neighbors tucked away for the night. They’d be back with a vengeance in the morning with vacuums, usually, when I was just getting to the good part of my dirty dreams, more and more, which starred the hunk at my side.
As we neared my door, he took my hand in his, twirling me into a hug and leaving a kiss on my forehead. “Can I come in?” he asked.
Wait. That wasn’t how it went. He always walked me to my door, said his goodbyes, and left with a wave. No hugs. No kisses. I eyed him carefully. “You want to come in?”
“Only if I’m allowed...” he trailed. “I don’t mean to impose.”
“No, no, it’s fine...” I had no idea what he had in mind, but I wouldn’t object.
We’d never hung out in my apartment before, but nothing about our relationship was exactly normal. How many fuck buddies geeked out over part numbers while scarfing down takeout?
I unlocked the deadbolt and stepped inside, thankful I tidied up. It wasn’t anything like his luxury digs, but I was proud of the little shoebox I called home, even if the building was more like a retirement home than an apartment complex.
I flicked on the light to a loud meow, Hank right where I left him on his polka-dot throne, tail swishing.
“Hi, bud!” I greeted, hanging my purse on the coat rack.
“I dig the cat.”
I smiled. “That’s Hank.”
I thought he was being a smart ass until I saw his grin as he made his way over to the lounging feline. “Nice name.”
“Thanks.”
“It suits him.” He reached out and stroked his fur before I could utter a warning, shocking me to hell and back when Hank let him. Usually, he hissed and darted at the first sign of a stranger.
“It was between Hank and Bartholomew, but he was clearly a Hank.”
He continued to pet him, earning purrs, Hank tilting his chin up to hog rubs. “I had a cat growing up named Kitty. Unfortunately, Nan wasn’t the most creative with names.”
“You grew up with your grandparents?” I asked, curious. He never told me anything about his upbringing. I assumed he came from a nuclear family like everyone else. Mom, dad, sibling. Maybe a dog. The unit I craved growing up.
“Later on, yeah,” he replied, still blanketing Hank in attention. “We lived on an inlet up in Maine. My brother still lives in the house.”
“You have a brother too?” I was glad he had someone. He was so closed off from everyone, only turning to his phone for work when we were together, never any personal calls. “I’m an only child.”
“Lucky,” he teased. “I have two.”
“I’m assuming younger?”
“Why’s that?” he asked.
“You act like a big brother. You know, bossy to the bone.”
He smiled, shaking his head. “You’re right. Luke is your age, and Ethan is thirty.”
“How was it growing up with siblings? I always felt like I got gypped out of a playmate.” The only friends I had on the mountain were dogs, shepherds a constant fixture in our home since they were Mom’s favorite. I spent a lot of time with Lily, too, the daughter of my babysitter in town.
“It was an interesting ride. I love them now, but I could have strangled them as teens.”
I giggled, wandering over and sitting on the couch, Hank’s husky purrs filling the air. “I bet. I spent a lot of time at the sitter’s playing with her daughter. She wasn’t my sister, but I pretended sometimes.”
Lily always bragged about her sister, though hers was older and more into boys and lip gloss when I was over. As for Lily, I was glad she wasn’t my sister in the end. The last I’d heard, she was in prison for running down a boyfriend with a station wagon. Yikes.
“Sitter’s?” he asked.
“Yeah, my dad worked a lot.”
Sometimes I’d spend days at a time there when Dad worked late on the road crew, but he did it all for me. Eventually, he trusted me enough to stay home alone when I was a teenager, but only after he taught me to handle a shotgun.
His eyes flicked to my face. “Your mom?”
“She passed when I was a baby.”
His face fell. “I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t be,” I said. “It’s not your fault. I was too young to remember, obviously.”
Dad still choked up talking about her, and I’d give anything to have a man look at me the way he looked at pictures of her. That was my new deciding factor in ever saying yes to a proposal again. If he didn’t eye me up like the icing on a cake, I was out.
“Is your father still...” he trailed.
“Yes, he’s fine. Still as ornery as ever.”
He grinned. “At least I know where you get it from.”
“Ha-ha, Jase. What about you? Tell me about your parents.”
“Not much to tell,” he replied, mimicking my earlier shrug. “I was raised mostly by my grandparents.”
I only met Dad’s mother, hardly the sweet old granny most people had, reeking of Virginia Slims and burnt plastic. She moved to Florida after Grandpa passed, picking up a fake British accent out of thin air. There was no way she would have taken me in if something had happened to Dad.
He strolled over to sit beside me, his leg flush with mine. “I miss the hell out of them. Do you see your dad often?”
“Not as much as I’d like,” I admitted. “I’m hoping to move back someday.”
“You should hand out your resume at NorCon,” he suggested. “There are tons of contacts there, and some might offer remote options.”
“I debated that,” I said, smiling. “Thank you for doing that, by the way. I’ll be careful around Monica when networking.”
“Monica isn’t going,” he replied matter-of-factly.
“She’ll throw a conniption if she’s not invited...” I warned.
“She should have thought of that before she started fucking up,” he muttered, brushing a stray lock of hair from my eyes. “And you’re welcome. You deserve to go. It’s the best of the best here.”
I smiled, Hank taking advantage of the distraction to hop on my lap and flop down.
“Let’s watch a movie,” he declared with a smirk.
“This late?” I laughed, glancing at the clock. It was almost midnight.
“Why not?” he asked. “You got somewhere to be?”
I shrugged. “Nope. What do you want
to watch?”
“It’s my turn to pick, huh?” he breathed, reaching out to fluff Hank’s fur. “Whatcha got?”
“A streaming service, so almost anything your little heart desires.”
“Little heart? I’m eight times the size of you.” He crossed his arms, looking every inch the 6’4” behemoth he was.
“Yeah, but my heart is eight times the size of yours,” I teased, not missing a beat.
It wasn’t the nicest jab, but it was true. He had feelings, but something locked them away long before I met him.
“Not going to argue that.”
“One day it’ll thaw,” I predicted, doubting my own words but truly hoping the best for him. Going through life under the fog of apathy was more harmful than feeling the pain in the long run. I knew it firsthand. “But until then, you’re fine the way you are.”
“I’m glad one of us thinks so.”
“We all have our problems, Jase,” I assured, ruffling his hair. “You’re still cool in my book.”
“I’m in the Golden Book of Jules?” he chuckled. “Finally, I’ve completed my life goal.”
“Yeah, right beside not banging coworkers,” I said. “I had to glue your picture there as a reminder.”
He grinned. “In honor of my cold, dead heart, let’s watch Dracula.”
Elena
Marty’s personality did a one-eighty once the babysitter was out of town. He went from hiding in his office to wandering around the building without purpose, back to babbling and wasting everyone’s time.
I avoided his interruptions, for the most part, pretending to talk on the phone when he came near. I didn’t have time for him or his attitude, as he wasn’t even trying to hide his disdain for Jason anymore.
A lot could be said about Jason: he was rude, abrupt, and downright mean when he wanted to be, but Marty couldn’t hold a candle to him. Jason transformed the branch more in three and a half months than Marty had in over thirty years.
Marty wanted information from me, and I wouldn’t give it up. Lee had already warned me he was sniffing around for dirt.
My careful avoidance ended late one afternoon. “Elena, I’d like to talk to you for a moment!” he called from his office door, all ears in the office hearing him loud and clear. There was no way I could dodge him.
