you do?
Best memory would be when Laura from down the road decided she wanted to get friendly with me at fifteen.
xx
Message sent four months ago:
ERIC!
I can't believe you sent me a porny childhood memory about you losing it. That's disgusting. What happened next with Laura? Tell!
Sorry to hear your brother is causing you stress. Some people just seem to take up more space, time, and energy than others. I have an older brother who's in the military. I'm very proud of him but it's not like we see each other much or have a huge amount in common. He's a good guy though. I think you'd like him.
On the childhood memory front, I feel your pain over losing Optimus Prime. I myself lost Bridal Barbie in a terrible act of mutilation perpetrated by my brother's dog. Her head never was found. As for this Laura getting friendly, my worst memory is my first kiss. I thought you did it with your lips closed but the guy went in with mouth wide open, lots of tongue action. I came away confused, my face covered in spit. It took me a while before I was willing to kiss again. My best memory would have to be making chocolate chip cookies with my mom. It didn't happen often because she was so busy. But when we did, she always pretended not to notice the fact that I ate half the dough and never lectured me when I got a stomach ache. As a kid, that was always pretty awesome.
Not much else going on here right now. Work is steady. I got offered a big contract by one of the more prestigious marketing firms in town. It would be great money and experience, but I'm not sure I'm that good or that I'm ready to operate at that level so I said no. Growing the business more slowly is safer.
I've been looking online at some properties, apartments with more space, but even the ones in need of work are still way out of my price range once you factor in how much the renovations will cost. I'd do as much as I can myself but apart from scrubbing walls and repainting them, my skills are minimal.
Hope things at work have calmed down. Ever considered a chastity belt for your brother? Just a thought.
Alex x
The walls were closing in on me. Just like in the scene from Star Wars where they're stuck in the trash compactor, slowly but surely I could wind up squished. Reduced to nothing more than a weird stain on the carpet. Housekeeping would not be happy.
Overly dramatic, but true.
I slumped back on the bed, staring at the ceiling. Yep, still white, flat, and boring.
Normally me and my space were best buddies. Especially when I was alone. Alone meant absolutely no one giving me shit, involving me in shit, or generally being a shit. Alone was safe and oh so comfortable. Alone didn't care what you wore or how many days it'd been since you washed your hair or shaved your pits. Alone accepted you exactly as you were. It never lied to me or let me down.
For all of these reasons and more, I loved alone. One day we'd probably wed. Marty could be best man.
Valerie often complained that it took a grappling hook to get me out the front door. That or the promise of cheesecake. Being trapped in this hotel room for the last forty-eight hours, however, had somehow started driving me insane. Perhaps it was all the bland, tastefully appointed furniture and fittings. Maybe if I had my own stuff I'd be fine.
I don't know. Everything seemed so meh. I sat up, crossed my legs, and looked around.
My nose had mostly stopped running and there'd been no more fever, only a mild headache. Aspirin had dealt with it just fine. I'd showered and gotten dressed in my favorite blue boyfriend jeans and a simple black T-shirt. Washed my shoulder length brown hair.
Truth was, I was well enough to travel. I should have been on a plane already. Except, Joe and I had a movie marathon the night before with a room service carpet picnic and I honestly couldn't remember the last time I'd enjoyed myself so much. Not to mention the curious little side glances he kept giving me. All of the spending time together had changed things. Again. God, it was confusing.
I'd crushed on him hard.
Then I'd hated him with the fire of a thousand suns.
Now I liked him and his body far more than I should.
Outside, a magnificent sunset covered almost half of the sky. Violet and blue, gold and orange. There was also the lake and the mountains. Lots of trees. Coeur d'Alene was beautiful. It was a pity I hadn't gotten to see much of it, really. Also, I had already paid for another night just in case because, you know, it was probably good to give my body a bit longer to get over the plague.
Fuck's sake. Such confusion.
I couldn't even commit to packing. My carry-on lay on the floor, clothes, shoes, and toiletries spilling out of it every which way. A girl explosion. Panties, bras, everything was hanging out there. Even the stupidly small and expensive black hooker dress and the ruined heels. (Last time I ever let Val talk me into going shopping. Until next time.)
At any rate, it all lay there waiting ... staring at me accusingly.
The lock clicked, the door swung open.
"Hey," said Joe, stepping into the room.
"Hi." I half raised a hand. Then stuck it back in my lap. "How'd your day go?"
"Good, good. Yours?"
"Great. Fine."
He nodded. "You're looking a lot better."
"Yeah. I'm feeling better."
"Nice."
"Hmm."
An-n-n-d we were both apparently out of small talk. Neither of us rushed to fill the silence, either. Joe's hair was damp and slicked back, his jeans and sweater were clean, nice-looking. Obviously, the man had stopped off at home, showered and changed before coming here. He'd gone for comfort, same as me. Nice that we'd both made an effort.
He cleared his throat. "In all honesty, I half expected to find you gone."
"In all honesty, I half expected to be gone." I huffed out a laugh.
Yeah. Not awkward at all.
We both just kind of looked at each other. Looked away. More silence. I opened my mouth then shut it, my mind a vast empty wasteland.
"Right," he said, like something had been decided. The mattress moved as he sat down beside me at the end of the bed. One big brown boot drummed restlessly against the carpet. "What now? Have you gone back to wanting nothing to do with me? Should I leave the key and get out? Do you hate me again? Have you already booked a flight home? Lay it on me. What happens next?"
"What? Right now?"
"No, a week from now," he deadpanned, boot still going like a freaking automaton. Thump, thump, thump. "Yes, now, Alex. Talk to me. Please."
"Okay, okay." Only partly ignoring the sarcasm, I sucked in a deep breath. God, the pressure. So many words. It was completely unexpected. The last few days he hadn't been nearly as chatty. Or pushy. "Umm. No, I don't hate you and I don't mind you being here. You probably don't need the key anymore, though. Just leave it on the table or whatever. Ah, yes, I booked a flight home for late tomorrow. And I don't know about right now."
"You booked your flight?"
"Yes."
The man nodded then scratched at his beardy chin.
"Did I cover everything?" My heart was racing, my head spinning in circles. "I'm not sure there's a set etiquette for this situation. You lied to me about who you were on the Internet, but you also nursed me through a gross dose of the flu. To a certain extent they balance each other out. But not completely."
"Hmm."
"Not that I don't appreciate everything you've done for me over the past few days. You've been amazing, being there for me and everything," I said. "I get that it could be confusing because there's been this certain intimacy established. I mean, hell, you've even seen me in my underwear."
"Not sure that counts since you were sick at the time." He frowned. "And you saw me in a towel."
"Yes, I did." And oh God, the memory. Such clarity and detail. I could almost give you a map regarding the muscles of his thighs, the strength in his calves, and the impressive bulge under that fucking towel. The number of little golden hairs on his bare, naked toes even. You'd think I had a photogr
aphic memory. My mind hadn't forgotten a thing when it came to Joe Collins hot, wet, and mostly naked.
What a stupid subject to have raised. Intimacy. Underwear. All of these words were bad. This was what happened when my mouth started moving. The most unwise shit came out. Thank God I had on a T-shirt bra with a little padding. Any hardening of nipples remained mostly unnoticeable. However, the warmth in my face might be an issue. Wonder if I could pass it off as another fever?
Sitting preternaturally still, Joe was watching me like his life depended on it. God. The scrutiny made me sweat.
"Anyhoo, moving on." I scrambled across the bed for a Kleenex, taking my time blowing my nose. "This is who I normally am. Jeans and a T-shirt. Valerie did the hair and makeup the other night. That's her job, she's a makeup artist. And my sexy dress and heels were a total ruse."
He said nothing. At least the Thumper foot had stopped beating.
"Disappointing, huh?"
"No."
I waited. He said no more. Awesome. He was back to using words sparingly. I was doomed.
The sunset had wound down to indigo and gray. A little lavender, maybe. High up above it all, a star twinkled.
Out of nowhere, he said, "I'm really glad you're still here. Even if it is for only one more night."
It took a moment for me to manage a smile. "Thanks. I mean, in all honesty, this situation, us emailing all the time, it was never going anywhere. We both have family and friends, established lives in different states. Long-distance relationships don't work even if we were into each other in that way. Which we're not. But ... why would you even bother?"
"That part of the reason you were interested in Eric in the first place?" he asked.
A question far too canny for my comfort. I was Bambi frozen in headlights. Just waiting for the semi-trailer to mow my fluffy ass on down.
"Alex?" he asked. "Is it? He was a safe person to be interested in, right? He might come to town but he'd leave again too. Didn't require you moving far out of your comfort zone."
"True." Wow, the man really had me figured. Though I guess I had given him all of the ammunition.
A nod from him.
Christ, I should never have gotten caught up in Val's excitement and come to Coeur d'Alene. It would have been kinder to both Joe and me. Then I would have had his emails for a little longer. The thrill of receiving them. The sense of hope at finding a kindred spirit, of not being quite so alone.