“You drive a hard bargain, but I’ll take it. What are the plans now?”
“Would you want to come over here and hang out? Maybe play a game? I have some pain killers running through my system, and don’t really want to be navigating through the city right now.”
“That’s fine with me. Text me your address, and I’ll bring over lunch as well.”
“Now, what kind of date would I be if I let you do that? We can order take out. Just get your sweet butt here around noon, okay?”
“Sounds good.”
“Looking forward to seeing you, Rosie.”
“You too,” I said shyly, just as I hung up.
“Oooh, who was that?” Delaney cooed.
“My date for today, Lance. Remember him, the guy I split my pants in front of?”
“The cat photographer,” Derk said.
“He doesn’t just take pictures of cats; he only did that a couple of times,” I replied in an annoyed tone.
“Still…meow,” Derk said while raising his “pretend” claw at me.
“I hate you,” I laughed. Changing the subject, I asked, “What’s the newly engaged couple going to do today?”
“Probably fuck all day long,” Derk said with a hopeful look.
“No,” Delaney shot him down. “We have lunch with our parents to celebrate, but we can fuck up until then.”
“Really? Then what are we waiting for?”
“Go get naked,” Delaney slapped his ass. “I’ll be right in.”
“Best fiancé ever!”
We watched as Derk leapt in the air and clicked his heels together while taking his shirt off. Delaney shook her head at him, but her eyes spoke of love. I was so happy for them. They really deserved each other; they were perfect together.
Before the ugly green monster of jealousy roared to life, I shook the thoughts out of my head and twirled my phone on the counter.
“What’s going on with you and Henry?” Delaney asked, just as Derk clicked her bedroom door shut.
“W-what are you talking about?” I stuttered.
The last thing I wanted was to get Delaney involved in the melodrama between Henry and me. I didn’t want her to have to get in the middle and feel the need to fix things, because, knowing Delaney, that was exactly what she was going to want to do.
“Henry called me last night when Derk and I were in the middle of getting busy, so I didn’t answer, but he left me a voicemail and he was drunk off his ass, mumbling into the phone about you and not giving him a chance.”
Crap.
My heart churned in my chest from the thought of Henry getting wasted and having a semi-heart to heart with Delaney. First of all, I didn’t like that my actions led him to have such a night, and secondly, I hated that he called Delaney. I was always his drunk call; I was the one he talked to when he was upset, but now that I was the issue, I couldn’t be the solution.
“Yeah, you don’t need to get in the middle of it. We’re just having some miscommunications at the moment,” I answered, trying to be as politically correct as possible.
“I don’t buy it,” she saw right through me. “Derk said some strange stuff was happening between you two, and he also said he heard Henry ask you to go swing dancing last night.”
“Derk needs to mind his own business,” I mumbled.
“He’s a nosy little bitch, you know that, especially when he’s uncomfortable. Since he was proposing last night, just waiting for me, of course he was going to listen to your conversation. Now tell me, what’s going on?”
“Nothing,” I said, growing irritated. “Just drop it, Delaney.”
“Is he trying to get with you? I told you he’s a cherry chaser.”
“He is not,” I defended him. “He wouldn’t throw our friendship away just because he likes to sleep with virgins, which isn’t the truth anyway.”
“Have you asked him?”
“No,” I replied. “How would I even go about having that conversation with him? There really isn’t a smooth segue into such a topic.”
“You’re right about that. I would just ask him.”
“I’m not going to ask him, because it’s irreverent. We’re just having a disagreement right now.”
“Okay,” Delaney eyed me suspiciously. “I’m just going to tell you this, I don’t like it when my friends are not talking.”
“We’re talking,” I lied.
“Yeah, if you were talking, then Henry would have been dialing your phone number last night and not mine. Don’t let whatever is going on between you two get in the way of your friendship, because what you two share is perfect. You don’t want to lose that.”
Duh.
Delaney wished me luck on my date and walked off to her bedroom, where I heard her squeal the minute she shut the door. Living with two very sexual beings was difficult, especially when they were on a high from getting engaged.
Since it was still early in the morning, I decided to tackle some pages in my book and listen to music to drown out the sounds coming from Delaney’s room.
“You’ve never looked prettier,” Brian said to Vanessa, who was wearing a bright yellow sundress that helped highlight her blonde locks.
“Thank you, Brian,” Vanessa said shyly, wondering if this was truly the turning point in her relationship with Brian.
Secretly, she had been harboring feelings for Brian ever since she met him for the first time during freshman orientation, but she was just too nervous to do anything about her feelings. So instead, she became great friends with him, all the time watching him go out with girl after girl, slowly chipping away at her heart with each passing date.
She wondered why she was never one of those girls, strutting around on his arm. Why she wasn’t the one who was able to hold his hand and walk through the lecture hall while he told jokes in her ear that only she could hear.
What she wouldn’t do to be that girl, but now that she was faced with her dreams becoming a reality, she started second guessing the foundation of the friendship she’d built with Brian.
She wasn’t second guessing the stability of it, no, she was second guessing her feelings toward Brian. She had a best friend who would be by her side through thick and thin. Did she really want to forfeit that for the possibility of love?
As she looked into Brian’s eyes, she was at a standstill. Should she proceed? Should she take the leap?
“Damn,” I mumbled, as I pulled away and looked at my book.
I rubbed my hands over my face and stepped away from my computer. I wanted to write an ode to my friendship with Henry, but what I didn’t want to do was write an autobiography, and that was pretty much what was happening.
Instead of writing, I shut my laptop and tucked myself back in bed. A small tear fell down my cheek as I thought about Henry and what was happening. I was losing him, and I was afraid the only way to keep him from falling out of my life was tossing him my heart as a life saver, and I wasn’t so sure I would be able to recover if he broke it.
Chapter Seventeen
The Worm with a Broken Neck
I knocked on Lance’s door and waited patiently for him to open it. I know he said we could order in, but I decided to bring cookies at least. I thought maybe the sugar would make his wrist feel better, at least that’s what helped me get over an injury when I was younger. Lots and lots of sugar.
After a few locks moving around, Lance opened the door and smiled down at me. He was wearing a pair of worn jeans and a deep green T-shirt. He looked very casual but yummy with his styled hair and thick-rimmed glasses.
“Hey, Rosie.”
“Hi, Lance, how’s the arm?” I asked, while nodding toward his cast that was a fantastic neon orange.
“It’s doing better now that you’re here.”
“Hmm, corny, but nice,” I teased. “Awesome choice of color, by the way. I didn’t know they allowed adults to pick cool colors like that.”
“I had to suck my thumb and whine like a two year old to
get it, but hey, I look cool now.”
“Aw, no self-respect was lost whatsoever.”
“Never,” he laughed. “Come in.”
His apartment was nice, small like every other apartment in New York City, but still nice. One whole side of his apartment was exposed brick with shallow metal shelves that held old fashioned cameras. The rest of his apartment was chic, modern, and welcoming. He definitely knew how to decorate, given the color palette of his place, as well as the knick-knacks and well placed black and white framed photos.
“Wow, I love your place,” I admitted, while looking at a black and white picture of the Brooklyn Bridge. “This is exquisite, did you take it?”
“I did,” he said, coming up behind me. His arms wrapped around my waist and turned me around.
When I met his eyes, all I could see was lust as his head dipped toward mine and his hands cupped my face. Lightly, he nipped on my lips until I reciprocated, deepening his nips into a kiss that had us both breathing heavily once he pulled away.
“God, why did I wait so long for that?” he asked, licking his lips, as if he was tasting me all over again.
Virginia was a happy camper.
“I ordered some deli sandwiches, if that’s okay?” he said, as he walked me into his living room with his hand pressed against my back.
“Sounds good to me. I brought some cookies for you.” He thanked me and put them on the kitchen counter, eyeing them carefully, like he wanted one right then.
Leaving him to his cookie staring, I sat down on his couch as he did the same and I turned toward him. “So, tell me how you hurt your wrist. I’m here, I want the details.”
He linked my hand with his and said, “You can’t leave, though, once I tell you.”
“I can’t make any promises,” I shrugged.
“Then, I’m not telling you.”
“Then, I’m afraid I have to go,” I started to get up, but he pulled me back down, this time a lot closer. He grabbed my legs and swung them over his, so I was practically sitting on his lap.
“You’re not going anywhere, now that I have you here.”
That devilish grin was making Virginia clap her folds together in praise. This date was so much better already than the first one, because I had Lance to myself. I enjoyed just being with him, rather than a group of his friends.
“Alright, just tell me what happened, and then I can judge you after, is that okay?”
“I guess I have to take what I can get.”
“Dish it,” I said, while getting comfortable.
Playing with his hair, he looked off and started telling me his story.
“I was at a photo shoot for some stupid make-up products the other day. They’re the worst kind of photo shoots because you have to place everything properly and take pictures of still products. The shoots pay well, but they are just boring as hell, so to liven them up, I play music for me and the other person the magazine sends along. I was hanging with this twenty-year-old intern…”
“A girl?” I interrupted, crossing my hands over my chest and trying out the fake pout. Didn’t know how well it worked until he leaned over and kissed me. Maybe I should pout more often.
“Not a girl. It was a guy, and he was obsessed with Michael Jackson, so I thought, why not blast some MJ on my phone to make the shoot go by a little more smoothly?”
“They had a guy help out at a make-up shoot?”
“Believe me, we both wanted to shoot ourselves. It was awful. So, toward the end of the shoot, we started busting out our best MJ moves.”
“Do you have moves?” I asked, eyeing him up and down, while his hand started to caress my thigh. I didn’t even have to ask, he had moves alright, because Virginia was trying to suck in his hand and dance with it. Why did I bother with all the other guys? I should have just stuck with Lance. Clearly, he was the best choice out of all of them, even Greg, the dog balls guy.
“I have moves, baby. Just wait, I’ll show them to you,” he wiggled his eyebrows.
Cheesy, but I’d take it.
“So, then what happened?”
“Well, the intern, God, I can’t remember his name, how awful is that? Oh well, the intern goes and lifts his knee and does this shaking thing with his leg like MJ does, and he grabs his crotch.”
“Classic,” I added.
“Very much so. So, of course, what did I have to do?”
“You busted out the moon walk, didn’t you?”
“Did I even have a choice?”
“After the crotch grab? I’m afraid not,” I said, while a grin spread across my face.
“That’s what I was thinking. So, to add some pizazz, I turned in a full circle, grabbed my crotch—I felt like it was a given—and then started moon walking, right into the display of makeup, where I knocked over everything and landed on my wrist.”
“Oooh, ouch, how was the makeup?”
Tickling me, he replied, “Is that what you really care about?”
Laughing, I replied, “If it was expensive, then yes.”
“It was,” he chuckled, as he calmed his tickling fingers. “I have some on my shirt still if you want to try to peel it off?”
“I’m good. So, that’s how you did it? Trying to upstage a twenty year old with your MJ moves?”
“I mean, did I really have an option?”
“I don’t think you did. At least you got a cool cast out of it.”
He lifted it up for both of us to examine. “I really did. You can’t believe all the girls that have come up to me, asking about my cast.”
“Is that right?” I asked, backing away from him.
“No,” he smiled and pushed me down on the couch so he hovered over me, utilizing his good arm. “There’s only one girl I really care about.”
“Well, aren’t you just the charmer?”
“I like to think so,” he said closely, just before his lips found mine.
I allowed the affection, because frankly, I wanted him. He was sweet, fun, and he liked me.
His body pressed against mine as he lowered himself down. My hands ran up his shoulders and into his hair, where I played with the slight curls that framed his face.
For a second, he pulled away, took off his glasses, and then found my lips once more, where he was more demanding this time. My stomach bottomed out as his tongue slipped into my mouth and started stroking the inside of it.
Holy mother of marmalade jars, he knew how to kiss, and my body recognized it, because instantly every inch of my skin was set on fire.
His good hand went to the hem of my shirt, where he lifted it just enough so he exposed a patch of my skin. His thumb found my exposed skin and started to stroke it ever so lightly, igniting something inside of me, something primal.
A moan escaped my mouth as his hand slid up just a little bit farther. Wanting to match his stroke, I moved my hand down to his jeans, where I felt his very excited bulge.
I gasped as my hand connected with his erection that was poking through his jeans. The thought of me being able to provoke such an attractive man was still a new concept to me.
“Sorry,” he mumbled as he pulled away and started kissing my jaw. “I just can’t help myself when I’m around you, Rosie. I’ve been waiting so long to get my hands on you.”
I lifted my chin to give him better access, just as his doorbell rang.
Blowing out a heavy breath, he rested his forehead on mine and looked me in the eyes.
“Such bad timing,” he said with a heavy breath.
“Do you want me to get it?” I straightened, as I looked down at his crotch. I had never seen an erection in the confines of jeans before, and it was actually a huge turn on.
“Might be best,” he responded, while sitting up and adjusting himself. “Cash is on the counter, if you don’t mind.”
“Not at all,” I said, while standing up and adjusting my shirt.
I was about to walk toward the door when Lance pulled on my hand and said, “Come right bac
k here; food can wait.”
Yup, food could definitely wait.
I opened the door to find a very short boy with a bag full of food with a deli’s stamp on it.
“That will be twenty-four, eighty,” he said in a high-pitched voice. I wanted to ask how old he was, since he was clearly still going through puberty and could hardly see over the bag he was holding, but there were more important things for me to tend to rather than bringing down a deli for violating child labor laws.
“Keep the change,” I said, as I offered him the thirty dollars that was left on the counter.
“Wow, thanks!” he said, excited over a little more than a five dollar tip. Made me wonder what he normally got tipped.
Grabbing the food and shutting the door behind me, I walked back into Lance’s apartment to see him stretched out on the couch, waiting for me with a sexy grin.
I was instantly hit with nerves as I saw him take in my entire body. Was he going to take the kissing and fondling all the way? Was I ready for it to go that far? Up until now, I had just done some exploring, or at least tried to, but this almost seemed serious, like this was the moment, the day I was going to lose my virginity. Did I want to lose it to Lance?”
As I set the food down on the counter, I looked him up and down and realized he was a good guy; he wouldn’t hurt me and it seemed like he cared about me. He probably would be very gentle and kind if I told him.
Instead of coming out and saying, “Hey, Lance, before we get down and dirty, thought I would let you know, no one has ever been inside Virginia, so if we could take it slow, that would be great,” I would just play it by ear, and if the moment sparked, if it seemed like we were going all the way, to the promised land where unicorns jumped over glitter rainbows, then I would give him a heads up.
“What are you thinking about over there?” he asked with his arms lining the back of the couch while his right leg crossed over his left knee. He looked so calm and collected, while I was fighting an inner battle, trying to decide if I should let the cat out of the bag.
Ugh, damn cats…
“Just looking at you,” I said casually, trying to calm my voice.