Authors: Nicole Hildreth
I looked up at him now.
“What’s wrong with your roommate?”
“He’s got some dumb photo shoot in Los Angeles.”
“He’s a photographer?”
Jack smiled.
“No, a model.”
I laughed aloud.
“Gross. I knew that guy was a douchebag. What about your other friends?”
He tapped the top of the table and smiled.
“I thought
we
were friends. Besides, Buster talked about you all weekend. He can’t stop thinking about you.”
“Is that right?”
“Mm hmm. Well, anyway, I have to go to Michigan, so…”
“You can’t take him in the hotel?”
He kneaded his fingers together. “Well, I probably could but I don’t know.”
“Where in Michigan?”
“New Buffalo. Just across the Indiana border. I’ll be back on Sunday morning, so it would be just one day.”
“I have off
this weekend.”
He breathed out
slowly. “Oh, good. So, you can watch him?”
“Better yet, I’ll just go with you.”
“What?” he asked.
“I’ll go with you. I
’m off Saturday and Sunday and I love the beach, so… you can deliver your table and Buster and I will go to the lake.”
“Are you serious?”
I got up from the table, straightening my ruffled apron. “Unless you’re going there for some other reason.”
“What are you talking about?”
“A girl, Jack. Are you going just for the delivery or are you meeting someone?”
He smiled.
“It’s just the delivery, Elsa… and time away from the city. I like it there.”
“
When then?”
“
When, what?” he asked.
“Wh
en are you picking me up?”
He looked visibly amused.
“I guess 8? Is that too early?”
“See you then, Mr.…”
It was just then that I realized I didn’t even know his last name. If Rachel had told me, I hadn’t paid attention.
“Conti.”
“Conti? Italian?”
“Yep,” he said, smiling.
“Well, I’ll see you Saturday morning, Mr. Conti.”
“I
look forward to it, Ms. Black. Oh, hey, write down your number.”
“For what?”
“In case anything comes up. I may need to call you.”
I walked over to the counter and grabbed a receipt pad, scrawling
it down. I turned towards him and pressed my lips to the front of the paper, leaving a cherry imprint. “So you’ll know it’s mine.”
I
handed it to him and walked away, peeking over my shoulder. He was scratching at his five o’clock shadow, a look of confusion on his rugged face.
I had made it to the
kitchen and pulled my hair back up when Gemma joined me.
“Who the fuck was that? David Banner?”
“Bruce,” I answered.
“Bruce?”
“Yeah, Bruce Banner. Not David. Bruce was his name in the comics. They changed it for the TV show.”
“Well, whatever
. Was that Mr. Hickey?”
I sighed.
“No.
That
was Jack, Mr. Hickey’s roommate. He’s actually the brother of my sister’s boyfriend.”
“Oooh, what a
complicated web we weave. That guy is insanely fucking hot, El. Seriously. What did he want?”
“He wanted me to watch his dog,” I said.
I walked to the sink and washed my hands, carefully studying the tub.
“His dog? Is that code
for something?”
“Nope,” I answered. “Just wanted me to watch his actual dog this weekend.”
“Are you going to?”
“Yeah,” I responded, failing to mention the fact that I would be watching his dog
with
him.
She studied me.
“You like him.”
“Yeah, he’s nice.”
“No, I mean, you
like
him, like him.”
I turned the burner on and started weighing the ingredients for my ganache.
“You better get out front. Charlie can’t handle it out there by himself. He’s a fucking moron.”
Gemma smiled.
“Uh huh,” she said, closing the door behind her.
*
****
That night, as I was pulling a frozen (now hot) burrito from the microwave, my phone pinged.
773.555.7630
: Hey.
Me
: Wrong number.
773.555.7630
: It’s Jack.
I pushed the screen and saved his number to my contacts.
Me
: Canceling this weekend?
Jack
: No. Just wanted to see what you were up to.
Me
: Don’t you have something to sand?
Jack
: More interested in you.
Me
: I’ve got a hot date with a frozen burrito.
Jack
: You’re a chef.
Me
: I’m not. I work at a bakery.
Jack
: You don’t cook?
Me
: Not really. Lean Cuisine and I are super tight.
Jack
: I could take you somewhere.
Me
: Where?
Jack:
Letizia’s is still open for another hour.
Me:
Ooh, oatmeal cookies. You really get me.
Jack:
I really do.
Me:
It would take you the full hour to get here.
Jack:
Nope. I’m in your neighborhood. So?
Me
: Mmm, no. I like to remain mysterious. See you Saturday.
On Friday night, I packed my bag for Michigan. Why had I insisted on going with him? I mean, what would our hotel situation be? Would we sleep
in the same bed together? What would we talk about in the car? What was I supposed to wear?
I
started shoving things in a bag. A pair of high-waisted leather shorts (indecent), a raw silk midnight blue tank top with a low V in the front, a studded leather jacket, a bunch of long silver necklaces, Jack’s ribbed undershirt, my four-inch heeled booties, a couple of black push-up bras, two thongs, one pair of boy shorts, a black silk nightie, and a gunmetal gray skirt. I also packed my silver bikini which consisted of four small triangles and a few strings covering all of my necessary parts… barely.
It was a
n insane amount of clothes for one night and two days, but I didn’t know where we were going. I had to be prepared for all fashion emergencies.
Once the bag was zipped, I slipped into bed and turned off the lights.
My phone pinged.
Jack
: Hope you’re not sleeping.
Me
: Just got into bed.
Jack
: What are you wearing?
Me
: Not on your life.
Jack
: Ha. What did you do tonight?
Me
: Watched a movie. Ate popcorn. Packed for tomorrow.
Jack
: What movie?
Me
: The Birds.
Jack
: Hitchcock?
Me
: Tippi Hedren was the most beautiful actress in the world.
Jack
: Meh. You’re prettier.
Me
: Okay, buddy.
Jack
: Real popcorn or microwave?
Me
: Real. Duh.
Jack
: This from the girl who eats frozen burritos.
Me
: Did you want something or did you just feel the need to harass my life choices?
Jack
: Thought about you this week.
Me
: Oh yeah?
Jack
: A lot.
Me
: Come over.
Jack
: Yeah?
Me
: No. See you in the morning, Jack.
I lay awake for hours, wondering why in the fuck I had suggested going with him.
*
****
I sat on the stoop at 7:55, waiting for
him. I was used to getting up early and I definitely didn’t want him ringing my bell. After seeing his place, I felt differently about my little apartment. His house was for a grown man. Mine was for a girl in her early 20s, not for one pushing 30.
He pulled to my curb at 8:01
, rolling down the window.
“You’re ready
,” he said, sounding surprised.
“Did you think I wouldn’t be?”
“Well, I guess I didn’t know. We don’t know each other very well, I suppose.”
He hopped out of the truck cab and walked over to my steps, grabbing my bag.
“You look really pretty,” he mumbled.
“Thanks,” I answered. It took nearly an hour the night before
to pick out my ensemble, trying on half of my closet. Finally, I decided on a black jersey knit A-line tank dress that landed a few inches below my underwear. I paired it with copper five-inch cork wedges with a short zip up the back.
“
Jesus Christ, what do you have in here?”
“Stuff.”
I smiled at him as he helped me into the tall truck. I buckled my seatbelt; Buster settled his head in my lap.
“He missed you,” Jack said, pulling on his
sunglasses. “You ready?”
I nodded and we headed east.
*****
It was fifteen minutes before either of us really spoke to one another. He started.
“So, Elsa, why did you want to come with me today?”
I peered out the window.
“I like the beach.”
“Yeah,” he responded,
“You said that, but if you wanted to go the beach, you could have gone in Chicago. Honey, it’s the same
beach.”
“Less people.”
“How do you know?” he asked. “Have you been there?”
“Our dad took us there once,” I said, wincing at the
blurred memory.
“Just once?”
“Yeah. He died later that year.”
“Oh,” Jack said. “You want to talk about
that?”
“No, do you?”
“Not necessarily, but I would.” He paused. “So, just less crowded then?”
I sighed.
“Jack, do you want me to tell you that I came with you because I just couldn’t wait to get you in bed? Or that I’ve been thinking about you nonstop since we met? It’s not some fucking Cinderella story. I just wanted to get out of the city and you were leaving.”
He smiled.
“Okay, whatever you say.”
“I’m sorry,” I whispered. “Just been a tough week.”
It had
been. Every day, Tuesday through Friday, Dave had called. He told me that he had left Charlotte for good. He wanted to “start over” with me. I listened to him, but never let him come over… never went to meet with him. I just sat in my apartment after every phone call, crying like a fucking twit.
“What happened?” he asked.
“Eh, just my ex. You don’t want to hear about that.”
“It’s a long drive, El
sa. You may as well tell me something.”
I paused and then
started in.
“We were seeing each other for about six months. He told me that he was going through a divorce. Basically, his wife showed up at the bakery
and told me that there was
no such divorce. They weren’t even separated. She found some emails from me and thought she better straighten out our ‘situation.’ So, I packed the stuff he had left at my place and put it on the front porch right before I texted him to pick it up. I haven’t seen him since, but he’s been calling me almost every day. It’s been a few months.”
“Is he stalking you?” he asked, his jaw tensing.
“Nah, he’s just a guy who fucked up and is trying to get laid. Who can blame him? I mean,
look
at me,” I joked.
He did not look amused.
“If this guy is harassing you, you need to tell the cops.”
I put my hand on his leg.
“He’s not, Jack. It’s fine. He just misses me.”
He put his hand on top of mine.
“Elsa, you tell me if it becomes more than that, okay? If this guy scares you, you’ll tell me, right?”
“He doesn’t scare me, Jack. I loved him
,” I responded, my voice soft. “Or at least, I thought I did.”
He rubbed my fingers.
“Well, he doesn’t love you,” he bit back. “Otherwise, he wouldn’t be fucking around on you. Or even worse, fucking around on his wife.”
I had forgotten for a moment about Lana. She cheated on Jack. The wounds were obviously still fresh.
“Yeah, I know,” I said, rubbing Buster’s head with my free hand.
Jack laced his fingers through mine,
definitely an intimate gesture for people who had known each other for one week. I let him hold my hand though. He felt safe.
“Where am I going to sleep, Jack?” I asked
, turning towards him. “You know, when we get to New Buffalo.”
“I got one room because I didn’t know you were coming with me.”
“You’ve known for almost a week that I
was
.”
He paused.
“I tried to change the reservation, honestly, but there weren’t any extra rooms. This place books months in advance.”
“It’s fine. I invited myself, so it’s my fault
.”
“It’s a king. Buster can sleep in the middle. You won’t even know I’m there,” he said, squeezing my fingers.
I shifted in closer. “Oh, I’m pretty sure I’ll know you’re there.”
He smiled.
“So, what are you and Buster going to do today? The delivery shouldn’t take too long.”
“Well,
we
,” I said, looking down at the dog, “plan to go to the beach. Buster and I can get some color.”
“I like your pale skin,” he said, rubbing the top of my hand with his thumb.
I kissed his cheek. “Don’t worry. I’ll wear sunscreen. You might have to help with my back though.”
His
hand tightened on the wheel, making the leather scrunch beneath his fingers.
“You hungry?” he asked.
“Not really,” I responded, my lips close to his ear.
“We’re almost there. Maybe we can
get something before I go on my delivery.”
I rubbed Buster’s back.
“We can go with you if you want.”
“
You’ll be bored. I’ve made a bunch of pieces for this guy. He’ll talk your fucking ear off about nothing for an hour. You should just stay. We can check in at the hotel and I’ll text you when I’m back.”
*
****
The
hotel was beautiful, overlooking the lake, just steps from the sand. It was nestled on a tiny street in the middle of town. Jack checked into the front desk while I hung a few feet back, holding Buster by the leash. The girl in reception was flirting with him, her huge tits falling out of her little uniform. It made me crazy. He wasn’t my boyfriend, I knew that, but he was so nice to everyone… she probably thought she had a shot. Hell, maybe she did.
He took one of the key cards that she gave him and handed it to me.
“Let’s go drop our bags off upstairs. You can change or do whatever and I’ll get going. We can meet back here in a couple of hours.”
He seemed nervous. It was sweet. In the elevator, I brushed my lips to the side of his neck.
I mean, fuck it, we were flirting in the car, right?
“Thanks for bringing me with you today,” I murmured.
“Sure,” he said, his back stiffening when the doors opened.
We walked down the short hallway
, finding our room number. Jack fumbled with the key card, trying to hold both of our bags.
“Let me,” I said, wedging my back to his front.
I could feel his breath on my neck.
When the door
closed behind us, Jack dropped the bags and grabbed me by the waist, pulling me against him. He kissed me softly just once, breathing in audibly and pulling back. My arms encircled his neck. I leaned in and pulled his lip with my teeth.
“
Sorry about that,” he murmured. “I should probably go.”
“Wait
!” I cried. “Will you look at this place?” I walked to the window and pulled the curtain back, exposing an amazing view of the harbor. I ran my hand over the mosaic tiled fireplace. “Holy mother, Jack. This is freakin’ awesome.”
He smiled. “Right? It’s really nice here
. That being said, I’ve gotta get going. I told him I would be there by 11.”
“
I need you to help me with sunscreen though.”
He sighed.
“Are you trying to kill me?”
I grabbed my bag and headed into the bathroom, flipping on the light.
“Maybe. I’ll be out in a minute.”
Once inside, I fumbled through my bag for my bikini. I stripped out of my short
dress, pulling my thong off and sliding the bottoms up my thighs. I tightened the strings on the side and pulled the top over my head. It took a minute to adjust my boobs to fit, but I got them in there.
I exercised, but not religiously. My body was soft and definitely curvy, but it never bothered me before. Until
now.
I don’t know why I felt so nervous to go back out there. I never wore a one-piece. I was always a girl who flaunted her flesh but, in this moment, I was a little embarrassed.
I pulled my
dress back on over my bathing suit, leaving my arms out of the holes and holding it up by the top. I cracked the door and found Jack standing in the same exact position I had left him in. He ground his hands together and stared at me.
I turned my back to him and lowered the dress so that it grazed the top of my bikini bottoms.
I twisted my head and handed him a small bottle.
“A little help?”
He took the bottle from me and squeezed a small amount into his hands, rubbing them slowly together. He placed them on either side of my shoulders and massaged the lotion into my skin.
Oh God, his hands felt amazing.
They traveled down, stroking the muscles in my lower back.