The Other Side of Someday (11 page)

Apparently, so is the smog.

I also had abalone. I had no idea what it was, but they said it was a rare type of seafood. I’m certainly enjoying trying things I never thought I would, but hate the fact it was a death sentence that forced me to finally do all the things I always said I wanted.

I’m starting to feel tired. I don’t know if it’s because of the pregnancy or the cancer. It’s probably a combination of both. I can see how much my decision is hurting Perry, but he’ll have years of new memories to make with our child…the wonderful person we created from a love of pickup trucks, drive-in movies, and dreams of a surf shack on the beach.

A sudden knocking on my door tore me away from my mom’s first impressions of Santa Monica. After getting home from my yoga class, having checked an item off her bucket list, I felt a closeness to her I never did growing up. I had heard stories about her from my uncle, father, and other people who knew her, but it was hard for me to really grasp who she was as a person. Now that I was walking in her footsteps, in a manner of speaking, I felt her. Wanting to strengthen that connection, I spent the past few hours flipping through her journal, reading about her own adventure in checking items off her bucket list. It inspired me and I was already thinking about what I would do next.

Setting the journal on the coffee table, I made my way to the foyer, Sport close on my heels. I opened the door, assuming it was Marcel with more samples for me to approve for his big remodel of my condo.

“Hi,” I said, surprised to see Sebby standing there.

“Hi.” He stared down at me.

“No work today?” I leaned against the doorjamb, crossing my arms in front of my chest.
 

“I’m taking a day off. All work and no play makes Sebby a dull boy,” he joked.

“What are you working on?” I asked, my interest piqued.

“A movie.”

“Oh really, smart ass?”

Shoving his hands into the pockets of his cargo shorts, he shrugged. “You may have seen previews for it. Some psychological thriller starring Matt Damon and Jennifer Lawrence.”

I raised my eyebrows. “You’re producing
that
?” I couldn’t mask the surprise in my tone. Sure, Sebby had shared bits and pieces of what he did for a living, but it never occurred to me that someone as young as he would be producing such big budget films. I almost wanted to ask him if he had ever worked with Kevin Bacon, just so I could tell someone that I went from twenty degrees of separation to just two.

Sebby nodded, not saying a word, smiling his boyish smile at me. I had to remind myself that he was off limits due to his harlot girlfriend, who I was sure was actually quite lovely.

“Umm… Is there a reason you knocked on my door, or…?”

“Right. Want to work on that list of yours?”

“With you?”

“Why not? There were actually quite a few things on it I wouldn’t mind doing. And I really think this is something you should do. Maybe it’ll help you find some inspiration to write that book.”

“What book?”

“The book you mentioned you always wanted to write.”

I scowled.
Sebby and his damn questions
, I thought. Weeks ago, he had asked what I was planning on doing now that I was on my own. After joking about collecting unemployment for the rest of my life, I finally told him about my dream to write a book.

“And, need I remind you,” he continued, “you have to. It’s on that list.” He smirked.

“Did you memorize the entire list in the two seconds you looked at it?” I lowered my voice. “Are you, like,
Rain Man
?”

“No. Definitely not. I just have a really good memory. So… Care to come over and watch one of the greatest cinematic masterpieces of the twentieth century?” His eyes lit up, the excitement plastered on his face making it difficult to refuse.

“Which would be…?”

He winked. “You’ll see.”

My curiosity getting the best of me, I said, “Fine, but I need to shower first. I just got home from yoga.”

“Great. Come on by when you’re done. The door will be open so just let yourself in. Feel free to bring Sport. Gidget would like that.”

“Should I bring anything else? Wine or beer? Something?”

“Nope. Just yourself. See ya soon, Dixie.” He turned from me and headed across the hall to his condo, leaving me to question our “friendship” once more.

“What do you think, Sport? Can a man and woman really be friends without complications?” I asked, eyeing my dog as I padded through my home toward the stairs.

The traitor simply yipped in response, his tail wagging.

“Of course you’d think that. You’re just looking to get some ass from your new girlfriend.”

Stripping out of my yoga clothes, I hopped into the shower.

“I don’t see how being friends with a guy could possibly work out,” I said to myself as I stood underneath the showerhead, basking in the feel of the water on my skin. “Then again, he seems to think it will. He’s definitely off limits, so why am I still thinking about him after meeting Dennis? He should have taken my mind off him. Why didn’t he? I guess Sebby and I have a lot in common, which could explain it. Okay. We both like dogs and the movie
Gidget
, so we have two things in common. I wonder if he talks to himself in the shower, too. Hmm… Sebby in the shower…”

I closed my eyes, taking comfort in the hot water, the image in my head causing my breathing to increase and my skin to come alive in anticipation of his phantom touch. “
Baylee Grace
!” I scolded myself. “Okay. Let’s rethink that… Dennis in the shower.” I closed my eyes once more, trying to imagine what it would feel like to have Dennis’ strong arms around me, pinning me up against the wall as water cascaded over both of us. The fantasy was incredible, his rippling body thrusting against me as I threw my head back, lost in the ecstasy enveloping me. Then, instead of Dennis’ smoldering dark eyes, Sebby’s gray-blue eyes flashed through my mind.

“Dammit!” I screamed, running my hands through my wet hair in frustration. I needed to find something to distract me from the fact I was drawn to Sebby for some inexplicable reason…or at least to release some of this pent-up sexual tension. My hormones were raging like a teenager’s. Hell, I was fantasizing about nearly every member of the opposite sex who I found attractive, but I had to stop daydreaming about Sebby. Nothing could ever come of our friendship. I knew how much it hurt to find out your significant other had been unfaithful. I refused to be the other woman, no matter the pull he had on me.

Resolved to stay strong, I finished showering, then dressed in a pair of jeans and a green sweater that brought out the color of my eyes. Finding some gel, I allowed my hair to retain its wave, coercing it into some sort of manageable style. Putting on a bit of liner, I framed my small eyes, making them appear bigger and brighter than they were. I finished the look by applying just a touch of blush to bring out my already rosy cheeks, then ran some pink gloss over my lips.

Surveying my appearance in the full-length mirror, I shrugged. “Well, this is as good as it’s going to get.”

Heading back downstairs, I grabbed my cell phone and keys, turning to my dog. “Come on, Sport. Let’s go see your girlfriend. At least one of us is going to get some.”

I locked the door behind me and approached Sebby’s condo. I was about to knock when I remembered his instruction to just let myself in.

Turning the knob, I entered his foyer. The floor plan was identical to mine, except in reverse. Sport ran from me like a dog in heat, no pun intended.

“Sebby?” I called out, hesitantly walking through the entryway and into the open living space.

“Holy shit!” I exclaimed when my eyes settled on him standing in front of his refrigerator, but that wasn’t what caught me completely off guard. It was the fact he was standing there, holding a towel in his hand, exposing himself in all his glory. I spun around, my entire face turning a shade of red that would put my hair to shame.

“Shit!” he shouted. “Did you take the world’s quickest shower or something?!”

“Balls,” I muttered, keeping my eyes glued to a large print of a vintage DC-10 hanging in the entryway.

“What?” he countered, his voice turning light and amused. I could almost picture that sexy and adorable smile drawn on those kissable lips of his.

“There were balls…and stuff.”

He laughed harder than I had heard him laugh in the few weeks I had known him, the rumble echoing in the open space.

“I’ll never be able to look at you again without seeing your balls, Sebby. Just thought you should know that.” I drew in a long breath, trying to settle my nerves. Seeing his mouth-watering body completely bare didn’t help matters any. “Here’s what I’m going to do. I’m going to go back to my condo and have a shot of whiskey. Or tequila. Or gin. Or whatever will make my blood pressure drop. And then I’m going to come back and we’ll try this again. Okay?”

“I promise I’ll be dressed when you come back.”

“Why were you bare ass naked in your kitchen anyway? Did you want me to walk in on you like that? Were you trying to show off?”

“Do you think I have something to show off?”

“I… Well…” I shook it off. “I’m not answering that.”

“Okay then.”

“Okay.”

“Baylee…?”

“Yes?” I turned around, as one often does when their name is called.

“Jesus!” His eyes grew wide as he hastily attempted to hide himself.

“For fuck’s sake!” I spun back and faced the door once more. “Did you not think to cover yourself up after the first time I walked in and saw you naked? I’m still standing here. You know, bath towels serve some rather astonishing purposes these days, the most useful of which being something to wrap around your waist to keep your junk covered! I’m leaving and taking
two
shots of whiskey. Be back in five minutes.”

I stormed out of his condo and back into mine, rummaging through the cabinets for the bottle of whiskey. Unable to find a shot glass, I simply threw back the bottle, trying with everything to forget what I had just seen.

But I couldn’t. You know those guys you see wearing a t-shirt that fits just perfectly, their muscles defined, and you wonder what they look like without it on? Then you have the good fortune of seeing what lies beneath and all you can do is drool because it’s just as good as you imagined? Well, that was Sebby.

Will was an attractive guy…in high school. Quarterback of the football team. Then he got a job selling cars, which was when he started to let himself go. Looking at Will now, his appearance was nothing like the athletic guy I knew in high school. He had a nice body back then. And, not to sound too superficial, but I wanted to be around an attractive guy again…just not Sebby, except as friends. Dennis was handsome and well-built. Maybe a little
too
well-built. Sebby was…perfect.

“Dammit!” I screamed, throwing back more whiskey. I wiped my mouth and stashed the bottle in the cabinet. Taking a deep breath to compose myself, I left my condo and walked across the hall.

About to turn the knob to let myself in, I hesitated. I didn’t know if I could stand barging in on him naked again. What if he got a phone call and didn’t have time to get dressed yet? Shaking my head, I held my fist up to the door and knocked quietly.

“You can come in, Dixie!” I heard from beyond the door.

“Are you decent?”

“Yes.”

“Are you sure? I don’t want to—”

The door immediately opened and Sebby stood in front of me wearing a pair of loose-fit jeans and a linen button-down shirt, the sleeves rolled up. “Told you. I’m decent.”

Yes. Yes, you are.

“Good.” I pushed past him and into his living area. Surveying his furniture, he had a bit more of a traditional taste in décor than I was used to…everything big and comfortable. I headed toward a large beige sectional in front of the giant television and sat down. Gidget and Sport jumped up to sit next to me.

“Sport! Down, boy. This isn’t your home.”

“It’s okay,” Sebby assured me. “Dogs are family members, and family members get to sit on the couch. Want a glass of wine?” He headed toward the kitchen as I snuggled up to the two dogs sitting on either side of me.

“Sure.”

“Red or white?”

“I’m easy. Surprise me.”

“You got it.”

Trying to busy myself, I stood up, scanning all the picture frames adorning the walls. “Is this your girlfriend?” I asked, picking up a photo of Sebby with a stunning blonde, her smile wide.

“No. That’s my sister, Laurie.”

“Where does she live?”

“Back home,” he answered, making his way toward me with a bottle of wine and two large glasses.

“Which is…?”

“Jersey, but not
Jersey Shore
Jersey,” he corrected before I could respond. “I lived in New York Jersey.”

“Which is…?” I prompted again.

“The part of Jersey that’s practically in New York. Birthplace of the great Frank Sinatra,
my
favorite member of the Rat Pack,” he emphasized as I recalled our text conversation earlier this week.

“Do you miss it?” I returned to the couch and sat next to Sebby before Gidget and Sport weaseled their way between us.

“I don’t miss New Jersey, but I miss my family.”

“Are they all still back there?”

“Yeah. I was the first one to leave. For what I wanted to do, I needed to be out here. Sure, New York has great film schools, but I don’t know.” He let out a sigh. I could sense he had made this argument more times than he could count. “I wanted to get away from home and have some independence, which is kind of hard to do when you go to school just across the river from where you grew up.”

“How old were you when you left?”

“Aren’t you nosy?” He uncorked the wine and poured it into the glasses in front of him. “I’m pretty sure you asked your allotted question earlier today.”

“Well, if we’re going to be friends, I figured it would be nice to know what I’m getting myself into.”

“Point taken,” he teased. “I was seventeen when I came out here for college.”

“Where? UCLA?”

“No. USC.”

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