After Dane and I shower, and he returns to work, I go
into the kitchen. I’m famished. At the table, I sit with a black coffee and
some tuna pasta, and get lost in thought.
A hand waves in front of my
face. I blink, coming back from my deep mental space.
“Hey, daydreamer,” Leona
says.
“Hi, when did you get in?”
“Just now. What’s on your
mind?” She sits down with me, elbows atop the table, hands cupping her jaw.
“Oh, nothing, I was just
daydreaming. Are you hungry?”
“Nah, I just had lunch with
Xavier.”
“Where is he now?” I fork a
load of pasta and shove it in my mouth. Carbs, protein and caffeine – bring ‘em
all on!
“Work. That’s where we ate.
I came home from there.” She chuckles. “You should’ve seen us last night. We
were having slow, lazy, tipsy sex in the missionary position. He said, “I love
your eyes,” and I said, “I love your eyes.”” Now she’s speaking in a silly
seductive voice. ““I love your lips, I love your lips, I love your cheeks, I
love your cheeks.” We literally loved every part of each other for the duration
of our easy shag, even down to our toes.”
I giggle at her. “You two
are nutters.”
“That’s the dangers of
alcohol, babe. You talk shit. We laughed about it today, though. Anyway, what
you been up to?”
“Dane just left and now I’m
having a late lunch.” I sip my coffee, which is cooling more than I’d like, so
I gulp down some more because I can’t be bothered to get up and put it in the
microwave to heat it.
“You two are so smitten.
Weren’t you at his last night?”
“Yeah, but I was bored, so
he popped up for a little while. He has to go to San Jose with Eric this
evening and it might be a late one. I’m not sure what time I’ll see him.”
She picks a piece of tuna
from my plate with her fingers and eats it. “So you’re still seeing him later?”
Now I can’t help my
face-splitting wide grin. “He’s given me keys to his apartment, so I can let
myself in.”
Leona bursts into a laugh
and the resulting spittle sprays me. “Sorry,” she says, covering her mouth with
one hand.
“Thanks! I really needed a
face shower,” I say, as I wipe my face with my hands.
Her laughter settles. “I’m
so sorry. Are you serious, though? He’s given you
Keeze
?” Her eyes are
wide as she stares at me.
“Yeah, so I can let myself
in tonight. Or I can just stay here and he’ll pick me up when he gets back.
It’s up to me, really. He said I should keep hold of them either way.”
She looks stunned, her face
frozen. “He’s keen.”
“I know.” I’m hoping with
every inch of me he stays that way.
“I love seeing you so happy
again. I’ve got my old Brooklyn back. Your new boyfriend gets my full approval.
So what time are you going to his tonight?”
“Depends if you’ll be here
or not. Are you seeing Xavier?”
“No, tomorrow.”
“Let’s do something, then.
I’ll go to Dane’s after.”
“Cool, girls’ night. I’ll
text Kayla and see if she’s seeing Chase.”
“Wicked!” Best of both
worlds; time with my friends and then over to Dane’s.
We hit a bar we all like, ready to indulge in a
cocktail or two. It’s a small place with background music, ideal for hanging
out and talking. We sit at a table in the corner with a jug of margarita and
some nuts. We get talking about going to L.A. with
Release
, in four
weeks. We’re excited and impatient. We’ll be doing a solid week there, then
we’ll be getting excited about doing it all again in New York, for two weeks,
in November. We’ve got ten different theaters, for varying lengths of time,
lined up for next year. 2012 is going to be an epic year.
I really love my life right
now.
“Don’t look just yet,” Kayla
says to me, as she tops up our glasses, her gaze following the flow. “Right at
the window seat, the girl with the long curly hair.”
Trust me to be the only one
who can’t see without turning my head. I have my back to the bar and all the
other tables. Kayla is directly in front of me and Leona is to my left. She’s
looking, too. Somehow I have to investigate without making it obvious.
“What is it?” I ask to get a
hint.
“Remember you asked me a
couple weeks back if I knew any of the
others
?” She said “others”
slowly, like it was some kind of code.
“Others?” I ask, frowning.
Her raised brows translate
“Yes, dumbass!”
Suddenly, I realize what she
means. Sooo, one of the
others
is in the bar. I didn’t come out to spy
on anyone, but there’s no way I can resist a peek. I don’t want to stare too
blatantly at some woman I don’t know, but I do want to get a good look.
We’re close to the toilets,
so I get up and go in there. To fill the time, I wash my hands and give myself
the once over in the mirror, fiddling with my yellow off the shoulder top.
On my way out I get a good
eyeful of the girl with long, auburn, curly hair.
I settle back into my seat.
“She’s fucking gorgeous,” I whisper. Our table isn’t near hers, but I’m not
taking any risks being heard.
The other lady is
undoubtedly pretty, even more so than Clarissa. She doesn’t have the edgy
style, though. All I can see is her tight white top, but there are no piercings
or tattoos. She has golden brown skin and eyes the color of cocoa. She really
is attractive and there’s something sexy about her, a natural sex appeal you
either have or you don’t have. I can see that even with her sitting down.
“Do you know her?” I ask
Kayla.
“We’ve spoken a couple
times. We have a mutual friend.”
“What’s her name?”
“Mia. She splits her time
between here and L.A., for work, but she’s from here. She has no interest in a
relationship and likes girls and boys. She’s been a frequenter of Dane’s for
years, she’s ideal for someone like him.”
My face drops and I feel
sick.
“Before you, that is,” she
quickly clarifies, probably in response to my expression. “Shit, I’m so sorry,
I really do mean before you.”
This time I look back before
I can stop myself. She’s a hot bisexual – a factor that probably brings more
fun into the equation – who likes the single life, and she’s been with Dane
many times. Ideal, all right!
“Don’t worry about it, babe.
I bet he didn’t give her keys to his apartment,” Leona says. Her belief in Dane
is unbelievable; she’s his number one fan. I still feel sick.
“
Keeze?
” Kayla
says with her brows drawing tight.
I nod, unable to make my
mouth move. Hot. Bisexual. Likes the single life. Fuck my ass! I snicker at
that last thought, considering hours ago Dane was doing just that. Did he do
that to her as well? I frown.
“What’s so funny?” Leona
asks me.
“Nothing.” Grabbing my
glass, I gulp down my margarita. I refill and swallow some more.
“Don’t you go getting drunk
because of her,” Leona tells me.
“No way, I just needed it.
I’m stopping there.” Alcohol and confusion are not the best of companions, I am
stopping now.
“What’s this about keys?”
Kayla asks looking dumbfounded.
Leona fills her in, no doubt
because she knows my thoughts are scattered.
I think it’s safe to say,
seeing your boyfriend’s past fuck buddies really isn’t helpful. Especially in
the case of someone who looks like
Mia
. Now I have all kinds of thoughts
in my head. If she was a frequenter it’ll mean she’s been in his apartment, in
his bed, in his shower. On his sofa?
Did
she have keys? Was she the
third person in his
arrangement
? No, she’s been on the scene a while,
Dane said the other thing he had going on only lasted a few months.
“Listen,” Kayla says. “Don’t
worry about anything; you’re who he’s with, you’re who he wants. Nothing else
is important, right?”
With an incline of my head,
I try to smile. Yes, I am who Dane’s with now, but how long until he starts
missing his freedom, or tires of me?
Would he have hooked up with
her if he wasn’t with me? They probably got together every time she came back
to San Francisco. Ideal, all-bloody-right! Does she know he has a girlfriend
now? It’s tempting to ask her, but that’s proper bunny-boiler territory. No way
am I losing myself to that degree.
Mia passes our table,
heading for the toilets. She and Kayla smile at each other, and I get a full-on
look at the legs that go all the way up to her armpits and her perfect fucking
arse.
I arrive home just after midnight, surprised to find
Brooklyn here, asleep. After a quick shower, I slide my naked ass into bed
beside her, trying not to wake her. The moment my head hits the pillow, I’m
ready for slumber. It’s been a long fucking day.
“Hello,” Brooklyn’s sleepy
voice says.
“You’re awake?”
“Yeah, I only got here a
little bit before you.”
“Why didn’t you call me to
come get you? I text you to say I was back at the shop.”
I move up close behind her,
my arm going over her waist. She’s in the fetal position and doesn’t alter it
to fit me better like she usually does.
“Sorry, I forgot.” I pick up
on some distance in her tone.
“What’s up?”
“Nothing.” Definitely
something. What though?
“Did you have a good time
with your girls?” I’m guessing not.
“Yeah. Was work okay?”
“Yep,” I reply, turning onto
my back. There’s no point in holding someone who obviously doesn’t want to be
held. What the hell is up with her?
“Do you always give women
keys?”
“No. Only Saffron.” Running
through our words today, I can’t think of a single reason why I’ve come home to
this weirdness. And why she didn’t call me, like I asked her to.
“Do you miss being single?”
Son of a bitch.
Turning onto my side, to
face Brooklyn, I prop myself up on my elbow. “What?” I ask, even though I heard
her clearly.
“Nothing, pay me no mind.”
“No damn way, what’s up? I’d
rather not talk to your back, even in the dark.”
She turns over and gazes up
at the ceiling. With the light off and the blinds partially closed, it’s
impossible to see each other’s faces with great detail, but her features appear
relaxed. “I was just wondering.”
“Why would you wonder that?”
“No reason. It’s just quite
a change for you, so I was curious.”
“No, I don’t. Do you?”
“No,” she answers, her pitch
rising with surprise. “Why would
I
?”
“The same reason you think I
might.” Yeah, this is all a little tit for tat, but fuck it, I don’t like that
she felt the need to ask me that.
“It’s hardly the same, Dane.
I’m the one who has relationships.”
“Brooklyn, you need to tell
me what your problem is. I don’t like all this cryptic shit.”
“I’m not being cryptic, it
was a straightforward question. Nothing major.”
“It’s the reasoning behind
it that I have an issue with. You were fine when I left you earlier, what’s
changed?”
“Nothing.”
“Sure.”
I turn on to my back,
frustrated with her questions and the lack of clarity. She moves in close to
me, slinking her arm over my waist and resting her head on my shoulder. “I’m
sorry,” she says.
“Why did you ask me that?”
“I was just curious. You
have to admit, it’s quite a transition.”
“A transition I wouldn’t
have made if I didn’t want to. Surely you must realize that?”
“I suppose. Sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry, just don’t
doubt me. One thing I won’t do is lead you to believe I want this with you if I
don’t.”
“I know. Can I ask you
something else?”
“Yes, you can.” I close my
eyes. Risky shit, I might fall asleep while she’s talking. She’d be impressed
with that, for sure.
“Am I what you usually go
for?”
Suddenly I’m fully alert.
“What I usually go for? What’s up with you, Brooklyn? What happened between
this afternoon and now?”
“Nothing. It just came into
my mind.”
“Just like that, out of
nowhere?”
“Yeah, I’m curious. You
don’t usually mind me asking you questions. Why won’t you just answer this
one?”
“I don’t mind. I’ll tell you
anything you want to know, but there seems to be something that I don’t
understand driving all of this. But in answer, I don’t compare you to other
women. No bullshit. I was attracted to
you
from the start.”
“Okay, but do you prefer
white girls or black girls?”
I laugh. Hard. I can’t help
it, that’s all I can do. I’m pissed at her already, and then she asks me a
stupid question like that. How the hell she can make me feel so frustrated and
still sound so damn cute I don’t get.
Reaching over, I turn on the
side light. I wanna see her face if she’s going to ask me something like that.
She quickly holds her forearm over eyes. If this was anybody else, I’d think
that action was down to the sudden light and their eyes being sensitive to it.
That’s not the case with Brooklyn.
“What are you doing?” she
asks.
“I have no problem with you
asking me things, but why that? What does it matter?”
“I’m just trying to figure
it out, that’s all.” She moves her arm.
I observe her face and the
redness of her eyes. “Are you drunk?”
“No! Definitely not.” Maybe
she’s over tired then. That makes two of us.
I lay on my back and fire
out the answer. “Fair skin, various shades of brown, or dark is not a factor
for me – it’s more about the person, even in the case of someone I’d just fuck.
I don’t fuck airheads. Obviously if a woman is hot I notice them in the first
place, so, yeah, the physical aspect plays a part, but if they’re an airhead
I’m outta there. I liked
everything
about the way you look when I first
saw you, but it came down to more than that, ultimately. Question answered?” I
turn my gaze her way, she meets it.
“Yes. Thank you.”
She looks so damn sweet and
innocent right now, I can’t even stay pissed at her. I turn off the light and
pull her close to me. “Go to sleep.”
“Yes, Master,” she says,
sarcastically.
“And please don’t
forget
to call me next time.” I don’t buy that shit for a second. Going by her strange
mood, I know she just didn’t bother.
“Okay.”
“I’m serious, Brooklyn,” I
say, using a firmer tone I can’t avoid. “I’m sure if you asked me to do a
simple thing like call you and I didn’t, you wouldn’t appreciate it. Call me to
come get you when I ask you to.”
“You come and get me in a
cab. It’s a waste of your money and time.”
“I can’t believe you just
said that. You think money and sitting on my ass is more important than you?”
“No, I didn’t mean it like
that. I won’t forget again. Sorry.”
Closing my eyes, I quickly
start to drift.
“Can I ask you one last
thing?” Fuck no, is this chick for real?
“Go for it.”
She hesitates. I wait.
“How many women have you
been with? Honest answer.”
Her low tone sounded
cautious, and I suspect she’s nervous about what I might say.
I hit the light again. She
doesn’t try to hide her face this time, and that’s what I need. Brooklyn’s
expression tells me a lot, so if we’re being this open, I need to see what she
may not say.
Turning onto my side puts us
gaze-to-gaze. “I don’t know where all these questions are coming from, but
whatever you ask me you’ll get the honest answer to, so you need to be sure you
want a response to your last question.”
“Is it that many?” Her brow
furrows, her focus falling to my chin.
Brooklyn is strange. She
flips so quickly from strong and certain to insecure and doubtful. Neither is
consistent, and I don’t even see the change coming. Earlier today we discussed
us
both
fucking more than one person at the same time, and she had no
problem with that whatsoever. The mention of Clarissa’s name didn’t even seem
to affect her.
But right now she wants me
to tell her something she doesn’t look ready to hear.
“Maybe we should save this
conversation for another time,” I suggest.
She meets me with a sharp
look. “Tell me. Honest answer.”
“I don’t know. I’ve never
kept count.”
“I don’t believe that. You
don’t have to try to spare me. I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t want to know.”
“I’m serious, sweetheart. If
I had a little book I recorded it all in, I could tell you. I did try to figure
it out years back, a couple years or something after I moved to the city. I was
having a stupid-ass conversation with the guys. I realized I missed some and
then I wasn’t sure if I forgot others. I gave up.
“There were two up until I
was nineteen, both were girlfriends. Then I had a couple years where I didn’t
want a woman at all. Then, don’t ask me why, but I was fucking like there was
no tomorrow. I worked my ass off from Monday to Friday and partied hard on
Fridays and Saturdays. Sometimes I wanted to go home alone. Sometimes I wanted
someone with me. These past few years haven’t been so crazy.”
She stares at my cheekbone.
I know she’s dissecting what I just said.
“One thing I can tell you is
I never took risks. I’ve always used condoms – even during the two
relationships I had here – and I’ve always had myself checked out, just in
case.”
“What number did you make it
to when you tried to work it out?”
“Why is this so important to
you?”
“It just is. What number did
you make it to, Dane?”
“One hundred and three.”
Her eyebrows pop up, but she
maintains eye contact with me. “Really? Full sex?”
“Yeah.”
Staring at my neck, she’s
back to her thoughts. This bothers me a shitload more than I thought it would.
If ever there was a time when a lie might’ve been a better option, it was
probably just then. Fuck, I wish I had lied.
“Tell me what you’re
thinking,” I ask.
“Naturally I can only wonder
what number I come in at. It’s not a nice feeling, Dane. I’ve had sex with
seven men, including you, so you know where you fit in with me.” She pauses.
“Mostly, I’m trying to
decide if I’m crazy for still wanting to be with you after learning you’ve had
so many. That’s your minimum and it’s only in reference to full sex, it doesn’t
include spontaneous head in clubs and bars and goodness knows where. I don’t
doubt for a second you’ve been on the receiving end of that more than once. I
underestimated you.”
“Just don’t underestimate me
wanting to be with you. We all live our lives doing shit and making decisions
that we can’t erase. What’s done is done. What should matter to you the most is
that you’re all I want now.”
Brooklyn moves in close to
me, burying her face against my chest. I let her hide, because I know that’s
what she needs right now.
I wake up alone. I wasn’t alone when I went to sleep.
Sprawling out on my back, I glance over at the bathroom door, which is open,
the smell of body wash apparent. Closing my eyes, all I can think is,
should
I have lied to Brooklyn?
Should I have played things down?
If I’d ever given a shit
about all the fucking I’ve done, I’d have known the definite answer. It’s not
even something I can guess. If I’d ever given a shit I probably wouldn’t have
done so much of it. I didn’t care.
I’ve spent a lot of years
making women non-existent beyond the point of fucking and coming, and then
saying goodbye or I’ll see ya soon.
For a long time I didn’t
think I was capable of feeling the way I do about Brooklyn.
Looking at my nightstand,
for my cell, I notice a note stuck on the lamp. It reads ‘studio’.
The last thing I knew that
wasn’t part of the plan today.
I get up and head for the
shower.
I pull open the studio door, and Brooklyn glances
over. Leona’s standing in front of her and smiles at me, friendly as always.
I’m not too surprised when Brooklyn doesn’t welcome me in the same way.
She starts walking toward me
with her eyes cast down at the ground, until she’s a few feet away. Her chest
is still moving rapidly with her accelerated breathing and a glaze of
perspiration clings to her skin. Though her lips form a slight curve, I know it
isn’t wholehearted.
I step back and she follows
me into the corridor, the door closing behind her. “Are you okay?” I ask, like
an idiot. It’s obvious she’s not.
“Yeah, I just needed to
dance. I didn’t want to wake you.” Does dance translate escape? Of course it
does.
“That’s cool. I …” What?
There isn’t much I can say.
She didn’t like the answer
she got and now the girl can barely look at me.
With my helmet free hand, I
reach forward and grasp Brooklyn’s hip. I draw her to me and curl my arm around
her waist, pressing my hand against her lower back and holding her close.
Her arms stay at her sides.