Hollywood Beginnings (A Novella) (6 page)

I also felt strongly about this… While I knew Brian Keller was a man I would never see again, he was my drinking soul mate. Out of the icy cooler, he lifted two bottles of Milwaukee's finest.

California has a superior climate and a kick ass ocean, but when it comes to straight up
who's your daddy
beer, nothing is better than a cold Wisconsin brew.

***

An hour later I found myself comparing the evening to the times I'd gone out with my ex. There'd been some okay parties along the way and a friend's wedding toward the end. I had to restrain myself from warning the happy bride because at that point my happy had worn off so much I wasn't sure I ever had it in the first place. Maybe I hadn't.

Those couple events with Duane left me feeling not very couple-like. There's something about external comparisons that leave a person wanting. From the outside, other relationships look better than the one I'm in. Generally speaking, they are.

I studied the six couples around the fire, and yeah I counted us in the group. The potential existed for me to feel
less than
the others, but I didn't.

There was the
Smiley
couple with teeth so spectacular that even in the dim of night, they kept smiling. Don't get me wrong, they meant it. If toothpaste ads could capture their sincerity, we'd all brush after every meal.

They stood in direct contrast with the
Quiet
couple. They weren't quiet because they were fighting. We all know what that looks like. They just seemed really comfortable with each other. It made me think of an old couple that sleeps in separate rooms, so secure they can be apart.

There was also the
Perky Gal /Sarcastic Guy
couple. Every group has one of those. The easy analysis is she suffers because he's a jerk, but I've known some overly perky gals before, and when their mood swings, and it always does, they are as perky as barracudas.

Sarcastic guy might wanna sleep with one eye open.

The fourth couple falls in the
Regular
couple category. It's not a bad thing to be interchangeable with 90% of the folks at a Costco. Heck, I'm interchangeable with at least 10% of the folks at Costco, and that's only low because I don't buy juice boxes yet.

They were in stark contrast to the
WTF?
couple. You know the
WTF?
couple. No one understands how they got together, and sometimes even
they
are mystified. They might be giant/tiny, smart/spacey, or in the case of this couple, surfer guy/CEO woman. The
WTF?
couples are the human equivalent of the dog pairing that creates breeds like
pit-doodles
and
Shetland-pinschers
.

To be fair, I thought I should try to categorize the
Brian and Amy
couple. We'd been side by side for the past hour, sipping a couple of domestic beers, eating a stellar s'more and engaging in an array of conversations spanning Mid-West trivia to sports. Brian knew more about basketball than I did, and that's a lot. I can out-talk my brother when it comes to hoops. So in the communication category, I think we sounded like a couple with a lot in common.

But we looked… wow, I didn't even know what we looked like. What couple would I sum us up as? How about
Not First Date
couple? There was something kinda
right
about us. In a weird way we even had a similar look. We're both tall, and I'm gonna say
healthy
looking. Of course, the kind of healthy
he
is makes the kind of healthy
I
am want to have sex in the sand.

So, there was a fair amount of attraction between us, and I use
fair amount
loosely. No one in the group could miss it. I know it kept me on my toes. If he brushed the side of my arm with his, I also felt attraction all the way to my toes. And I'm telling you, the zing of
that
shot through some dangerous real estate on the way to my toes.

We smiled a lot. Not like
Smiley
couple, but a lot. Brian was funny and smart, clever in his wit, and I liked being with him. I was, in fact, happy to just stand beside him and finish my beer, but
Perky Gal
suggested we circle the fire and play a game. I tried to let Brian know it was time to move on, and he caught my eye like he was thinking
escape
too, but everyone else looked ready to play.

I shrugged. It wouldn't change anything to stay for a few more minutes, and I was a little curious about what party icebreaker had made its way onto a California beach.

Brian moved closer, his shoulder resting against mine, warm and solid, and when
Perky Gal
started with the rules, he leaned down and whispered. "She's a cruise director."

I laughed, nodded.

Perky Gal
held up a finger. "I'll ask the first question." She smiled at her
Sarcastic Guy
, who looked about as thrilled to play the game as he'd looked about everything else. "Stay in the circle if you've ever had sex in an elevator."

Her smile didn't change from
oh, you're from Minnesota
to
ever have elevator sex?
She really had a consistent look. She answered her own question with a
yes
and stayed where she was, but the rest of us noticed that
Sarcastic Guy
took a step back.

Brian nudged me with his shoulder. "Looks like it wasn't an adventure with him, huh?" Then he raised an eyebrow at me, affirming my own sexploit. "How many elevators are in Minnesota?"

"I only needed one."

I felt him laugh, a shake of humor running through his body. I had to stop myself from grinning any wider. Yeah, maybe a lone sexual encounter with a college boyfriend in a dorm elevator wasn't anything to be proud of, but right then I was glad to be able to stay in the circle. Of course, Brian did too. I ignored the stab of jealousy as it dawned on me he'd taken some woman in one too.

Perky Gal
finally noticed that
Sarcastic Guy
had stepped back but was unconvinced it hadn't been him steaming up that elevator with her. "Cancun, hon. Remember that weekend we flew down?"

He quickly swapped his trademark sarcasm for anger. I'm guessing he did not remember.

Brian, a waver of laughter in his voice, whispered. "Awkward."

The
WTF?
couple jumped into the strained silence. "Okay, stay in the circle if you've used a device that requires D batteries."

Well, crap, I'd have to stay in the circle for that one. I was single. What were the odds I didn't own one or more of those bad boys?

Brian stayed beside me and that was truly embarrassing. He bumped me again, and I turned to him in self-defense. "I live alone! And hey, what about you?"

He grinned, his teeth white in the fire glow. "Cordless drill." He took a swig of beer.

I smiled back. "Yeah, that's what I call mine too."

He laughed, half choking, and I thumped him on the back as
Perky Gal
tried to pull
Furious Guy
back in the circle. "Cancun. Why don't you remember? The elevator was glass!"

Regular
couple broke the silence that hung after she'd said
glass
. "Stay if you've ever checked up on an old lover."

Everyone stayed in the circle. Who hadn't stalked a little? I leaned closer to Brian. "I just wanted to know my ex was suffering. Doesn't make me a bad person."

He seemed to consider that for a moment. "It does, but I think I like that about you."

Quiet
couple was up next, and from across the way it looked like
Perky Gal's
smile wattage was dimming. She just might have connected the old boyfriend dots.

Quiet
man cleared his throat. "Ever fantasize about Halle Berry?"

Quiet
woman smiled, shook her head, and stepped back.

The
WTF?
woman followed because she had clearly never seen Halle Berry as Catwoman. And
Perky Gal
left because she had to chase her soon to be
Ex-Husband
to the parking lot. The
Regular
couple both stepped back, which made
Regular Man
a
Regular Liar
.

Beside me, Brian let out a whistle. "This is extremely hot, Amy."

I didn't imagine I'd have to justify being the only woman still in the game. I shrugged. "We're talkin' Halle Berry. Seriously?"

He held up a hand. "Oh, I get it. I'm just
moved
that you do."

"I'm heterosexual. Not dead."

And then we were up for the next question with only
Quiet
man and
WTF?
man remaining. Brian seemed to defer to me, but I shook my head. I sure as hell wasn't asking the question.

Brian took a last sip of beer and tossed the empty into a recycling bin with nothing but net. "Stay in the circle," he looked around, "if you've
never
had a gritty but
pleasurable
experience on a beach."

They all groaned. In Southern California it was probably a rite of passage, all of them spending their teen years fondling each other in sand. Midwest teens had to rent a hotel room on prom night or lose it in the back seat of Billy Conroy's car.

Everyone left the circle, and I stood alone. I looked back at Brian, and his head tilted to the side like he'd asked a question. I heard,
do you want to?
As my pulse tripped up then raced, I hoped I wasn't wrong.

He held out his hand, and I had three thoughts shoot through my muddled brain. One, I'd never had sex on a beach. Two, I'd never had sex on a first date. Three, if I only got one date with Brian Keller I was going to have two more
yesses
to add to my beach game arsenal.

I took his hand because I wanted to see him naked, feel those big hands on me, and get sand in exotic locations.

He snagged the bag on our way by, and we walked together down the moonlit beach.

We didn't talk, just stopped in a quiet cove and headed into the water.

I swam straight out, following the line of moonlight on the water, and it felt warm to me, so much warmer than Lake Winnibigama. Lake Winnibigama felt like you'd dived into an ice fishing hole. Most of the year it
was
an ice fishing hole.

In those frigid waters, my libido would have gotten frostbite, but the warm Pacific Ocean only fueled the slow burn I'd felt all along with Brian. Even the waves along my body added to the anticipation, and I finally understood what people meant when they said water felt like silk.

Closely behind me, Brian lightly touched the back of my thigh, and I slowed as he reached for my waist, pulling me near. Deliciously, degree by degree, I warmed against him, my backside softening against the hard of his chest and lower to an erection that testified to both the warmth of the water and the heat between us.

He kept us afloat in the buoyancy of the salt, and I let go of my own movements to sway with his. I felt his free hand sweep up my rib cage and follow the line along the outside edge of my bikini top, and I held my breath as he skimmed a strong finger up the side of my breast.

His powerful legs continued to effortlessly keep us above water, while he leisurely traced the skin just inside the fabric of my top. Lifting my face to the starry sky, I gave him all the access he needed, but his long fingers stayed along the borders of the top as if he had all the time in the world to explore me centimeter by centimeter.

I was already breathless, and I wasn't even treading water. I needed him to feel some urgency as well, although his hardness beneath my softness told another story. I arched my back just enough to send my bikini bottom against his swim trunks, a rub so subtle it still let him think he controlled the pace, but it got to him.

His breath fanned out against my cheek, and in reflex his hand swept over my breast, the contact electric. But he slowed again, tracing beneath the bikini ties, closer and closer until I thought I'd rip my own top off.

At last, the strong length of one finger swept under and grazed my nipple already pearled in anticipation. My breath caught, and he traced the inside swell and then tantalized the sharp peak of the other breast. His hand went lower, along the sweep of my belly to my bikini bottom, slipping beneath the elastic edge.

I let my head fall back to his shoulder, my surrender causing him to stroke across the sensitive flesh there, just once, to test the waters maybe, to drive me crazy for certain. I turned in his arms, kissed him hard on the mouth, and he held me so tightly we both forgot about staying afloat and went under.

When we came up sputtering, we made eye contact inches apart. He tipped his head toward the beach, and we swam like we were anchoring the last leg of the 4 by 4 relay and American gold was on the line.

Hitting the shore, he grabbed my hand and took huge strides to the bag, causing me to jog to keep up, something I never had to do at five-foot-ten. He reached into it and pulled out a large blanket, tossing it on the sand.

We stood on opposite sides, and there was a moment we just paused, took each other in with our dripping hair and bathing suits. And then he grinned and I grinned right back, happy and lighter than I'd felt maybe ever.

I saw him crouch a little, and I lowered like we were getting ready to spring. Since he was about a million times more athletic than I am, even though I play softball and a mean game of horse, he shot across the divide and grabbed me, kissing me just as hard as I kissed him. When we fell onto the blanket, he rolled to take the brunt of the impact, but I didn't care. I'd have thrown us both down at that point just to feel him against me.

And he was… the full length of him against every point of my body, lips, breasts, pubic bone-- a diamond of contact I never wanted to end.

I could hear the
shhhh
of the tide indistinguishable from the pounding of my own heartbeat. He tasted salty from the ocean and sweet from the bonfire dessert, and I had to stop myself from saying,
s'more
,
s'more
,
s'more
.