“You dirty stop out,” I
tease.
Her responding grin bares no
shame.
With our mugs in hand, I sit
down with Kayla and Leona.
“Spill,” Kayla orders, as
she stirs her hot beverage.
“We want to know everything
from the moment you left us,” Leona adds.
This is the same treatment
they both got from me after their dates with Xavier and Chase, so I can hardly
be evasive. I launch into the details and tell them every single happening.
After our naughty dance
floor antics, Dane escorted me home in a cab. He held me for the short journey,
walked me to the main door of my apartment block, and kissed me once on the
lips. We parted on good terms. I was concerned that things might be awkward
when we first left the club. Really, I hoped he didn’t think I led him on.
Thankfully that wasn’t the case, and now that we’ve text this morning, I’m
certain we’re fine.
Kayla and Leona sit silently
surprised, though I don’t know why. Leona and Xavier spent most of their first
date kissing each other to death in a bar.
I’ve spoken for so long my
coffee’s cold. I take my mug and put it in the microwave and reheat my beverage
for thirty seconds. Sitting back at the table, I take an experimental sip. “Mmm,
perfect,” I mumble to myself after the heated fluid slides down my throat.
“Perfect coffee or perfect
date?” Leona asks.
“Well both, but I was
referring to my drink.” I take another swallow.
She folds her arms across
her tummy. “What a night?”
“I know.” It was wonderful.
“And he didn’t even try to
get you to go home with him?”
“Nope, not even a hint.”
“So what next?” Kayla asks,
surprisingly enthusiastic. “When are you seeing him again?”
I slowly raise a shoulder.
“Not sure. He said he’ll call me later.”
“Watch this space, hey?”
Leona says.
“That’s enough about me.
Since you’ve arrived home in yesterday’s knickers, do we have progress on the
Xavier front?” She and Xavier have been on a few dates now.
“First off,” she raises her
forefinger, “you know I don’t do dirty knickers. Secondly,” her smile literally
takes over her entire face, “this bird’s bagged herself an American boy.”
The ring of my cell phone wakes me. I grab it from the
nightstand and answer, without opening my eyes to look at the Caller ID.
“Hey, big brother,” Saffron
says slowly, in her excited, curious tone. “How’d last night go?” This is
eager. Too eager.
“If I was awake I’d tell
you.”
“Give it up, what happened?”
“We had a great night. What
more do ya wanna know?”
“She’s not with you now, is
she?”
“No. I took her home in a
cab and then I came back here. Alone.” I crack an eye open for a second, my
blinds are keeping me nicely in shade.
“Good. This is good, Dane.
How do you feel about her?”
“I told you already.”
“That was before last night.
Are you sure about this?”
“I’m sleeping,
Saff?”
“No you’re not. If we’re
talking, you’re awake. Also, it’s almost two in the afternoon, why are you
still in bed?”
“I was up for a couple hours
and then I got tired.”
“I’m sorry if I’m being
pushy. There’s potential here, Dane, I want this to work out for you. I want to
see you happy and settled.”
“Let’s not push so hard,
Saff.”
“Yeah.”
Now I feel like an asshole,
because she’s less enthusiastic. “Please, don’t worry. It’s all good, I
promise.”
“Okay, I won’t pressure you.
I love you, Dane.”
“I love you too.”
Thirty minutes later, I’m
still laying here, my mind caught up in thoughts I don’t want to be having.
I’ve got to get out of this apartment. A workout might provide the interruption
I need.
At the gym, I run hard and
wreck my muscles with weights. It worked as a good distraction, but as always,
distractions are only temporary. You can never really escape your own head.
I leave the gym, jump on my
motorcycle and head in the direction of my apartment. As I turn off of Van Ness
Ave and on to Sutter, I spot Brooklyn coming out of the dance studio. Pulling
over by the curb, I remove my helmet and call out to her. She turns in my
direction, smiling. As she walks to me, I dismount my bike.
“Hello,” she says, stopping
in front of me. “What are you up to?”
“Just coming back from the
gym. I thought it was your day off?”
“It is, but I needed to stretch.
I thought you didn’t go to the gym on weekends?”
“I don’t. Excess energy, so
I went today instead of tomorrow. What you doing now?”
“Nothing,” she says, shaking
her head, “Just going home.”
“Wanna come with me?” Shit,
maybe not the best choice of words. “You know I didn’t mean that how it
sounded?” Not yet, anyway. I’m just taking the opening that’s presented itself.
Her gaze briefly breaks away
from mine. “I know. Don’t see why not. I’m not getting on that, though,” she
says, pointing at my motorcycle.
“Are you scared?”
“No. Maybe. I’m not getting
on it. I’ll drop my stuff off quickly and drive over to you. Text me your
address.”
We go our separate ways, and
when I get home I take the opportunity to make Saffron feel better after our
call earlier.
“Hey, what’s up?” she
answers.
“I’m just reporting in.
Brooklyn’s coming over.” Reporting in? This shit is fucking weird.
“No way!” she screeches down
the line, almost deafening me.
“Damn, girl, calm down.
We’re just hangin’ out.”
“She’s coming to your
apartment
.
This is freaking awesome. Oh, I didn’t get to ask you earlier. Did you make out
last night?” Now I wish I hadn’t called.
“I’m a grown man and I’m
older than you. You don’t get to ask me that. I’m just keeping you informed, as
I said I would.”
“I was just playing, but you
totally did. Omigosh, she’s like gonna be your girlfriend,” she says in a silly
girly voice, teasing.
“Okay, I’m going now.” I’d
laugh at her if she wasn’t talking about me.
“Fine, go, you’ve given me
all the details I need. Have fun, big bro.” The smartass hangs up before I get
the chance to respond.
Just before I leave for Dane’s, I make a call. It’s
late in the UK, but if the person concerned is a night owl, it’s not a problem.
When she answers the phone,
“Hello, darling,” the soft, loving texture of her tone makes my lips curve
wide.
“Hi, Mum, how are you?”
“I’m great, love. How’s
everything going?” I can hear the smile in her voice.
“This week was brilliant as
well, it’s been amazing. We’re over the moon with everything so far. I can’t
wait for you to get here – less than two weeks to go.”
“I can’t wait, either.
Tommy, your dad and me miss you loads.”
“I take it they’re all
asleep by now?”
“They are, but everyone’s
well. Going by the time, it wasn’t them you wanted to speak to anyway. So tell
me, what else have you been up to? Surely not all work and no play.”
“Mainly work, but a little
bit of play. I had a date last night,” I beam, “he’s the brother of Ella’s
friend. I’ve been taking it easy, though, which is why I haven’t mentioned him
to you yet. He’s quite popular with the ladies, so I’ve been careful. That
aside, he’s really, really nice and
stupidly
good looking.”
“Aww, it’s good for you to
spend time with someone. You can’t avoid boyfriends forever – there are good
men out there. Perhaps he’s a good’un. I hope this works out. Might be
difficult if he’s American, though.”
“I’m not thinking that
deeply into things at the moment. I’m not thinking too far ahead full stop.
It’s just nice getting to know him and last night was great.”
It’s impossible to explain
the situation with Dane. We both want different things in our love lives, yet I
can’t help going with the draw I feel towards him. If I’m reading him
correctly, Dane’s doing the same.
Unless I’m simply too
hopeful, and I’m the only one being drawn – drawn into something that could
potentially shatter a girl who’s barely put herself back together.
“He’s invited me to his
apartment tonight.”
“Are you asking your
mother’s permission to go to a boy’s house?” she jokes, and it’s the
lighthearted response that I need to something quite serious.
“Yes, I am.”
“If you like this – what’s
his name?”
“Dane.”
“That’s a nice name, isn’t
it?”
“Yeah, it is. His sister’s
name is Saffron.”
“Oh, I like that. There’s a
spice called Saffron. What a lovely name for a girl.”
“I think so, too.” I fill
Mum in on details about the siblings, their jobs, ages and things like that.
“My darling, if you feel
comfortable with Dane and you’re ready for something to happen between the two
of you, then you have my permission to go. If there’s even the slightest doubt
in your mind then we can stay on the phone all night and you can tell him when
you next see him that your mummy wouldn’t let you out to play.”
I guffaw to the point of
bringing tears to my eyes, happy tears. “Mum, you always say the right thing
when I need you to. I miss you even more now.”
“Oh, bless you, love. I’m
here whenever you need me, morning, noon or night. So what do you want to do?
What feels most right?”
“I feel comfortable going. I
feel comfortable with him. I suppose I just want confirmation that this is all
okay.”
“You’re a smart girl and
your instincts are good. You’ve always been good at picking men, you’ve had
lovely boyfriends.”
All except one seems to hang
in the air, unsaid. But I agree. I have been fortunate enough to have great
boyfriends. And even though Dane had a moment of being a prick, I think he’s
genuinely a nice guy as well.
“Thank you, Mum.”
“No problem. Let’s speak
again tomorrow.”
“Okay. Love you loads.”
I finish my call and stand
indecisively for a moment. I’d like to change my clothes, maybe make more of an
effort, but I don’t want to seem like I’m trying too hard. I showered for a
second time after my long stretch session and changed into black cropped
leggings and a black training top, so I’m fresh and my outfit isn’t exactly the
worst choice in the world. It’s ideal for hanging out, really.
I spray on some deodorant,
even though I don’t need it, and put on a small amount of black mascara and
clear lip gloss, so it’s effective without being obvious. Lastly, I throw on my
pink jumper and fix it to hang off one shoulder.
After a quick chat with
Leona, so she knows where I’ll be, I drive to the address Dane text me, which
is less than ten minutes from my place. It wouldn’t have taken long to walk it.
I can’t believe how near he lives. Between his apartment and the shop, I think
it’s inevitable that I’d have seen him at some point. Even the gym he uses
isn’t far from the studio.
Standing in the lift, I
press the button to take me up to the fourth floor. Okay, slightly nervous now.
Something as simple as this should not have me nervous. It’s not like I haven’t
visited a man’s home before.
But they weren’t
Dane
.
Unexpectedly, a smile forms.
I’ll actually get to see his place. I was so distracted by the idea of being
completely alone with him, and the extremes of temptation, I didn’t think about
this journey deeper into his life and the person he is. Okay, slightly excited
now. More than slightly.
The doors slide open, and I
step out. At the same time, a front door across the hall, a little to the
right, opens and Dane appears. I’m nervous all over again. There’s no turning
back now.
Any chance of that was gone
once he answered the
intercom, unless I wanted to look like an immature idiot.
“Quite a fancy, hi-tech
lift– sorry, elevator you’ve got here,” I say, like a twat. I was just grasping
for something to say to ease my anxiety.
“Thanks. I think.”
Gorgeous, gorgeous, gorgeous
Dane, oh my word. How can he look so good in gray tracksuit bottoms and a white
T-shirt? I didn’t get to appreciate the black ink covering his muscular arms
when he came to the studio, but I’ll definitely be taking a discrete but
thorough look throughout the evening.
He hugs me in welcome. This
is progression – it’s the first time we’ve greeted each other this way. It’s a
short embrace and he squeezes me nicely just before letting go. Now excitement
beats nerves down, big time!
Though I step across the
threshold in a played down ladylike manner, in my mind I cartwheel over the
thing. The thick, light beige carpet has me removing my footwear without even
being invited to.
“Usually I have to ask
people to do that,” he says with the lips I got to kiss last night expressing
his humor.
“I just couldn’t cheekily
walk on something so well kept with my trainers – sorry, tennis shoes on.” I
can’t resist pulling off my socks, too. Yep, as I expected, it feels so soft
and luxurious under my bare feet. Shall I tell him my thoughts on this? “At the
risk of sounding like a twat, I love your carpet.”
He laughs, but I don’t feel
stupid. Not with the sweet affection in his eyes. “So my elevator and carpet
get your approval. It’s a good start.”
Dane guides me to the living
area of his open apartment. His whole manner towards me has changed. As we go
through, he walks behind me with his hands on my waist. It feels nice to have
his touch, even with this simple gesture.
I manage to stop myself
gasping at the no expense spared place. A huge black, leather L-shape sofa
takes up the center of the room. Unsurprisingly, his TV is a large, wall
mounted flat screen and it’s turned on with the volume on mute. He has the
biggest DVD, Blu-ray and CD collections I’ve ever seen, and they’re all
displayed on dark wooden shelves that fit the entire length of the walls either
side of his plasma.
What really surprises me is
the large bookcase at the back of his living room, every shelf full. I knew he
was a keen reader, particularly of sci-fi, horror, conspiracy theories and –
non-celebrity – autobiographies, but this far surpasses my expectations.
I didn’t expect a single guy
to have a dining table that seats six, though the stylishness of it is in
keeping with the rest of the apartment and it’s a match for the large, chunky
coffee table that fits nicely into the space created by the L-shape of the
sofa. I’m massively impressed with his home.
I sit at the breakfast bar
whilst Dane fixes us drinks and rather than being hungry, we’re peckish so we
snack on nuts and crisps as we talk.
I check out his music and
movie tastes. His music interests include Soul and Rhythm and Blues from the
fifties, Motown, old-school hip hop, post-fifties R & B, Jazz, reggae,
current bands I know and like myself, and many bands and solo artists I’ve
never heard of from various genres, old and new. Eclectic is the word that
springs to mind. When Dane expressed his love of music during one of our calls,
I never dreamt it was to this degree. Seeing such a diverse collection almost
explains the saxophone tattoo on the inside of his right forearm.
When we sit on the sofa,
side-by-side, Dane angled slightly towards me, he hands me the remote control
so I can search the TV channels. His apartment is warm, so I pull off my
jumper.
“Why are you scared of
motorcycles?” he asks as I check out the movie stations.
Given the circumstances with
his parents, I’m not sure if I should say. I hesitate, thinking.
“What?” he asks with
interest.
Simple and to the point, I
think. “I saw an accident once.”
He nods like he instantly
knows what I mean. It was a bad one and fatal for the rider. It scared the
living daylights out of me. I know there are no guarantees – I know that
especially sitting here with Dane – but I feel much safer enclosed in a car,
not so exposed.
“I don’t want you to feel
like you have to watch what you say to me. I can take it.”
I look at him, almost in a
daze. He’s got the best face on the planet. “Okay.”
“Is there anything else
you’re afraid of?”
You a bit.
“I’m not a complete scaredy-cat. I love roller
coasters – though ‘Final Destination 3’ put me off for a while – and I’ve
skydived and bungee jumped.”
“You have?” Both his brows
perk up in surprise. “Are you an adrenalin junkie?”
“I wouldn’t say that,
exactly. The skydive was on my twenty-first birthday and the bungee jump on my
twenty-fifth. I’ll have to top those on my thirtieth, somehow.”
He laughs in disbelief.
“Shit. But you won’t get on a motorcycle. Maybe that’s something you could try
on your thirtieth.”
He holds a deeply focused
eye contact with me for a moment. Something about it hits me right between the
legs and I feel myself throb. I want to jump on him, straddle him, and ride his
cock. Quite hard.
Distracting myself, I turn
my attention to the TV. “The saxophone tattoo on your arm. What’s the
relevance? Do you play?”
“No, my dad did. He was in a
funk band.”
“Really?” My gaze darts back
to him.
He nods. “My mom was one of
the backup singers, and she and my dad wrote a bunch of their songs. That’s how
they met.”
“That’s amazing.” I smile in
absolute awe. “Would I have heard any of their stuff?”
“Unlikely. They spent a lot
of time touring from state to state. A little like what you’ll be doing with
Release
.
My parents sold the rights to most of their songs, and my dad did some ghost
writing for a couple artists.”
“There are actually ghost
writers for songs?”
“Yup.”
Now I understand why he and
Saffron were home schooled before they moved to Hillsborough, and why they
sometimes stayed with Elizabeth and Ray when they were really young. It never
occurred to me to ask why when the subject came up during our first phone call.
I also understand Dane’s appreciation for music. I bet his parents were good
dancers as well.
My interest is overwhelmed
and I have more questions, but I’ll pace them.