Before You: Standalone Contemporary Romance (4 page)

“This is really tasty,” I said, after a while, enjoying the sensation of food in my belly, and really, if the dish in front of me was anything to go by, André was quite a good cook.

“Thank you,” he said quickly, picking up his beer and taking a swig before placing it back on the table and focusing on his food.

“Forgive me if I’m wrong, but by your accent, I’m assuming you’re German, correct?”

“I’m American, actually. Have been since I was sixteen. But yes, I was originally born in Germany. Munich to be exact.”

“How old were you when you moved to America – your accent isn’t as thick as I’d expect it to be?”

“I’ve lived in this country since I was in high school.”

“Why did you come here?”

There was a pause before he answered. “My father’s company had him transferred, and my mother and I came with him. I stayed here, and my mother went back to Germany many years ago.”

“What about your father? Is he still here?”

He paused, smiled then took another swig of beer. If he was a cat, the hair on the back of his neck would be standing up. I could tell he wasn’t interested in continuing this conversation.

“You’re asking all the questions. I think it’s my turn to get a few in. Exactly where is this house in LA?” he asked, simply changing the subject. I took the hint and filed ‘questions about father’ in the ‘do not talk about with André’ box.

“Hi-Fi. It’s a little district wedged in between Silverlake, Echo Park, and Westlake. About a twenty minute drive in traffic to Downtown.”

“Do you work in Downtown?”

“Yeah. I’m Junior Editor at Vibe, it’s a fashion magazine aimed at twenty-somethings with enough disposable income to buy designer wear.”

His eyes moved over me again, and again that shiver ran through my body. It was as if I was vibrating with a hunger that food wouldn’t be able to sate.

“So you’re the one who puts all the commas and the full stops in the right place.”

“Kind of. But, editing for a magazine is different to that. We’re fact checkers and content creators and...”He drained his beer and pushed back on his chair. And I stopped talking as I watched him take his empty into the kitchen. “It’s actually quite boring.” I let out an uneasy laugh, feeling strange that he walked away while I was still talking.

He opened the fridge. “I don’t think so. It sounds quite interesting actually.” He spoke to me as he returned with two more beers and placed a new one in front of me, even though I was only half done with my first.

“Are you trying to get me drunk?” I laughed, scooping the last of the food on my plate into my mouth.

Giving me a shrug, he tilted his head to the side. “Well, I think we’ve done enough packing. And, we can’t really take them with us, might as well drink them.” He tapped the neck of his bottle against mine. “To new beginnings.” I felt myself blush until he clarified. “To a new start, and new friends.”

I forced a smile, even though that word felt like a lead balloon in the pit of my stomach. Honestly, I didn’t even know why I felt that way. I’d only known the guy for twenty-four hours, and really, the only reason he was probably giving me the time of day was because I was stopping him and Dave from having to live on the streets. I felt like such an idiot. If he felt the need to clarify our boundaries then I’d probably been imagining everything and batting my eyelashes at him like a tool. God. I wanted to dig a hole to crawl inside and forget it ever happened. I wanted to stand up and go and hide out in Dave’s room at the very least.

But, I didn’t do either of those. I simply smiled and took a sip of my drink. Then another. Then another. Until it was all gone, and I was reaching for the next...

***

“H
igher or lower?”

André shuffled the deck of cards in his hands as I began to giggle uncontrollably. He had stuck a card to his forehead and was now asking me to bet whether the card on his forehead would be higher or lower than the card he produced when he cut the deck. I had no idea why the card needed to be stuck to his forehead, but so far, we were having fun, so it didn’t really matter.

“Higher,” I responded, slipping a pretzel into my mouth before taking another sip of the vodka we’d found in the pantry when the beer ran out. I couldn’t stop smiling at this rather large, rather macho man sitting beside me with a two of diamonds stuck to his head as if it were completely normal.

“All right. Let’s see if you get your question.” Holding the deck out in front of him, he separated the pile and held up the cards for me to see.

“King of Hearts!” I slapped my knee and groaned. He’d won the last four rounds, and the winner got to ask a question whereas the loser had to answer. “You win
again
.”

Pulling the card off his forehead, he grinned then slipped it back in the deck before placing it on the table between us. “OK. Favorite book? And don’t say
Pride and Prejudice
. Every girl picks that.”

I picked up the deck of cards and began to shuffle. “Every girl? This is something you do with
every
girl?”

“What? No. Why would I go to a girl’s apartment to play cards? I go there to fuck.” He was so blunt that it gave me a little shock as he took the cards off me. “Now, answer the question – Favorite book?”

“Chocolat.”

He nodded. “Interesting choice.”

“Why?”

His green eyes lifted to meet mine as he gave me a lopsided smile. “You have to earn your questions. Here.” He fanned out the deck of cards and I took one, pressing it to my forehead like he had. Although, this time it didn’t stick.

“Oh no,” I laughed as it fluttered down and revealed itself to me.

“Try again,” André said with a chuckle as he slipped the card back in the deck and gave it a quick shuffle. I took out a new card then lifted it to my forehead.

“It still won’t stick.”

“Here. Let me help this time,” he said, leaning over to me and bringing one hand to the back of my head while using his other to press the card in place with mine. I could smell the scent of his body. Masculine. Pheromone filled. Dizzying.

The card fell again. We both kept laughing. “I should lick your forehead to make this stick.” He pressed it against my forehead.

We laughed even harder, our amusement fueled by the alcohol we’d been consuming since dinner. Then all of a sudden, the laughter stopped and things became very serious as his hand curled in the back of my hair.

Our eyes locked.

The air crackled.

The distance between us lessened.

Closer.

Closer.

Breathe...

––––––––

T
he pounding in my head woke me the next morning. It took me a moment to remember where I was and how I got there. That was the problem with drinking to excess, you always felt like crap the next morning. On top of that, one tended to wake up with a numb mind – a brief moment where the mortifying moments of their drunken shame weren’t quite so horrible – then slowly, everything about the night before returned and that ache in your head became a hammer against your skull.

“Oh god!” I moaned as the memory flooded into my mind in full high definition color.

André and I had kissed. Very briefly. But still, there was a joining of the mouths and a slight moan as his tongue slid against mine. It felt so right in the few seconds it occurred, until it felt horribly wrong when he pulled back then frowned.

“What are you doing?” he’d said.

The way he looked at me made me feel as though I was the one who tried to kiss him, and that he hadn’t been interested at all. My eyes stung, even in my drunken mind, I knew that he’d pulled me in. He kissed me.

Looking away from him to hide the tears that had sprung to my eyes, I stood and tried not to stumble as I headed to Dave’s room.

“Willa.” He said my name as a sigh, as if he was somehow surprised or annoyed that I was upset by his reaction. But, he’d just kissed me then acted like I was the one who did something wrong – how could I not be upset?

I’d held up my hand, telling him to stop, I didn’t want to talk to him. Then I’d gone into Dave’s room, locked the door, and drunkenly cried myself to sleep.

I groaned again. This trip was becoming a nightmare. I had half a mind to try and call Dave and tell him off for pulling the sibling card and getting me to come out here. I was fine in LA, living my life, all by myself. I was coping. I didn’t need this headache in my life. I didn’t need beautiful German men with complicated personalities forced on me, putting my world on tilt. I needed it to turn and turn – night and day – the way it always did. That’s how I got through. André was a problem for me, and I needed to get away from him as fast as I could.

Actually, that’s exactly what I was going to do. I was going to call Dave and tell him that André could sort all this stuff out on my own. I was going to put my foot down and say that he could stay in the house, but he couldn’t bring André. After the last couple of days, there’s no way it would work. He was too up and down. I couldn’t do up and down.

I rolled over, forcing my way through the pain of moving so I could look for my phone. But, it wasn’t on the bedside table where it normally would be. It must have still been out in the living room, sitting on the coffee table where I’d placed it while André and I were drinking.

Forcing myself to sit up, I let out a sigh. Just the memory of that momentary meeting of lips was enough to make my body start to tingle all over. What was it about André that was so...excruciating? It was the only word I could use to accurately describe it, because it wasn’t the same as attraction, it was something more primal, something deep in my core.

He made me ache.

How could a person I barely even knew do that?

Sighing again, I stood and ran my hands through my hair. I was in Dave’s shirt again. It covered me to mid thigh, and in the state I was in, I didn’t think I’d be standing long enough to actually change. I needed water. I needed painkillers, and I needed my phone so I could tell my brother he’s an asshole.

Taking a deep breath, I took a hold of the handle and peeked out into the living area. It looked clear. All evidence of our night of drinking was gone – erased. If someone told me it was all a dream, I might actually be inclined to believe them – there wasn’t even an empty beer bottle near the sink. He’d cleaned it all away.

I wasn’t sure how I felt about that.

Making my way to the bathroom, I relieved myself then splashed some water on the hideousness that was my face. I had massive dark circles under my blue eyes and the skin on my heart shaped face was pale while my lips looked dry. If only Halloween was coming up. I wouldn’t even need a costume. I opened the cabinet behind the mirror, and took out a bottle of Tylenol to ease the throbbing in my brain.

Clutching the pill bottle in my hand, I left the bathroom and headed to the kitchen, taking a glass from the cupboard and filling it with water. As I swallowed the pills, I saw the door to André’s room open. He was in a pair of pajama pants with no shirt on. I couldn’t help but take in his defined chest and of course that V again. There needed to be a law against wandering around without a shirt on in front of the girl you just rejected. It seemed way too unfair. I almost forgot why I was cranky with him.

As I placed my glass on the counter, I forced myself to meet his eyes. He met mine. Stood there. Unmoving. Another moment where I couldn’t breathe.

Then he broke eye contact and went into the bathroom and closed the door. I heard it lock. Then I heard the shower start.

Moment over.

Closing my eyes, I gripped the edge of the counter and let out my breath. That was awkward. Everything about me being around André was awkward. I didn’t know if I could do this. I didn’t know if I could stay and see this through...

Needing to call Dave more than ever, I went toward the coffee table to get my phone. But it wasn’t there. Frowning, I scanned the living area, looking for the small rectangular object that really, could be lost anywhere in the mess of packing. But I spotted it sitting in the stereo dock. What was it doing there? Did I do that, or was André going through the music on my phone?

Retrieving it, I hit the home button and keyed in my passcode, selecting Dave’s number as fast as I could so I could talk to him about André while the shower was drowning out my conversation.

Pressing my cell to my ear, I listened as it took a while to connect then ring. “Come on, Dave, pick up the phone,” I said, feeling jittery as I waited, and waited.

Eventually, it clicked over to his message service. ‘
You’ve reached Dave Henderson. I’m unable to be reached from September through to the end of November. But if you can wait, you can leave a message and I’ll get back to you. For anything urgent, please call my production company at 213- 555-8807 and they’ll get the message to me a.s.a.p.’

The beeping tone sounded in my ear. “Seriously? You’re out of cell range, Dave? I’m here, packing up your apartment with some guy I
just
met, who, I might add, doesn’t really seem like that stand-up guy you made him out to be – and I can’t contact you. That’s just...that’s just great. Listen, I guess we’ll discuss this when you get back from wherever the hell you are.”

I tapped the screen harder than was necessary to end the call then I ran my hands through my hair as I sighed heavily. I was feeling awful from my hangover, tired from sitting up all night and that general heavy feeling that always came with any sort of humiliation or regret. Seriously, I just wanted to go home.

André was still in the shower, and as much as I needed one myself, I needed to get out of there more. I’d made my mind up. I was going home. André could pack the rest of the apartment and meet the movers himself. He didn’t need me. He’d made it obvious that he didn’t want me. So really, there was no reason for me to stay. If I was fast enough, I could pack my things, and be on my way to the airport before he even turned the water off. I could even write a note, telling him I’d gone back to LA for work. I’d keep trying to get in contact with Dave, but if that didn’t work, then when André arrived in LA, I’d make sure he had somewhere else to stay and that would be that – crisis averted, no need for confrontation of any kind, I could go back to my normal life. Stress-free. Just the way I liked it.