Okay, this one's little long, but I couldn't find a cut off place. lol Thanks for your comments. I really appreciate it guys. Now, on with the story.
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Chapter 7</center>
“Have you talked to Dad yet, Is?” I shift positions on my bed, cradling the phone between my ear and shoulder as I watch as Tess rummage around in my closet.
When she turns around to see me watching her, she smiles. “You watching my arse?” she giggles, wiggling her butt.
I roll my eyes.
“Actually, I did,” Isabel says.
My brows rise in curiosity, all the while denying the shirt that Tess has picked out. She rolls her eyes, tosses it aside and searches for another. “And?”
“And…” Isabel teases.
“What?” I demand.
“Guess.”
My sister can be so annoying sometimes. “Since you’re not screaming in my ear and I haven’t heard that Roswell’s been drowned with your tears, I’m guessing he said that you could come for the summer.”
She lets out an ear piercing squeal, one that gets Tess’ attention from deep in my closet. She gives me a funny look before returning to her search.
“Mom was a little reluctant, but I can be very charming,” she laughs.
“You mean you whined and she gave in.”
“Exactly. We double teamed Dad and he only gave in because I told him it was the perfect opportunity for me to go apartment hunting in New York. He said that you’re going to have to help me with that.”
I reject another one of Tess’ choices with an impatient look. She chucks a shoe at me which I promptly dodge. “Of course… Wait, you got in to NYU!?”
“Surprise, surprise! We’re practically going to be neighbors!”
“Oh joy,” I joke wryly.
“I’ll ignore that sarcasm and pretend you’re really excited about this.”
I am. “I’m ecstatic, and I can’t wait to see you.” Tess’ glare kind of has me scared when I reject another shirt. “But we’re going to have to figure out the details later…” I dodge another shoe and this time, I retaliate with a pillow to her face.
“Arse,” Tess giggles.
“I have to get ready for a date,” I tell Isabel.
“Oh wow! You finally have a date!”
“Shut up, Is. Just because you go out every night…”
She laughs. “I’m not saying anything. It’s just been a long dry spell for you…”
I hate sisters. “I’m hanging up now.
The blush turns up on its on accord when she starts making kissing noises and I quickly hang up. But just as I do, I’m smacked in the face with a pillow.
“Tess!”
“Get off your arse, you barely have thirty minutes to get ready.”
“I don’t know what to wear. This is a delicate situation,” I whine, following her over to my closet. “I don’t want to look like I just threw something on cause then I’ll seem like I don’t care. But then again, I can’t look like I spent too much time finding something cause then I’ll seem anxious and desperate…”
“Which you are,” she snorts.
I glower at her, to which she simply flutters her lashes. “You know, you’re not being very helpful.”
“Well, you’ve pooped on every shirt I’ve shone you. You asked for my advice, didn’t you?”
I huff, anxiously itching to see Lilly. “Well, you’re a woman aren’t you? Where’s your sense of fashion…sense.”
“Fine.” Sighing heavily, she pulls out a pair of worn jeans and a light blue button up shirt. “Fashion, meet sense.” I wrinkle my nose in distaste.
“What now?”
“I don’t like that shirt.” I hurry to my dresser and pull out my favorite green shirt and hold it up for Tess to see. “What about this?”
“That’s about as ugly as a bowl of arseholes.”
I quickly yank off my t-shirt and pull the green one over my head. “This is my favorite shirt.”
Still, she’s grimacing as I model for her. “It’s not my cup of tea. But, whatever.”
Satisfied with her semi-approval, I rush into the bathroom for a quick shower. And after dressing and styling my hair, I step into the living room. Tess looks up from the TV.
“Well?” I do a spin for her. “Is this not Laundromat attire?”
“Sure,” she snorts, returning her attention to Family Feud. “Bloody hell. You look like walking chunder in daks.”
I frown in confusion. “Translate that in American please.”
She smirks. “You look like walking puke in jeans,” she drawls in perfect all-American accent.
“But this is my favorite shirt,” I argue.
“Okay, but that doesn’t mean your favorite shirt doesn’t look like chunder.”
My jaw drops open and I wonder how she has the audacity… “I don’t care what you say, I wearing this shirt.”
She shrugs as if this isn’t an important decision. I have to make a good impression. “Fine. Wear it.” I send her a hateful glare as I grab my keys, wallet and laundry bag and head out the door.
“But don’t be surprised when she hurls all over your chunder shirt,” she laughs as the door closes.
When I heave my bag into the back seat of my car I catch my reflection in the side view mirror. I let out a string of curses before I hurry back to my apartment.
Tess is waiting, smug smile in place with the blue button up dangling from her fingers.
“Shut up,” I mumble before she can utter a thing.
I tug on the shirt and I must admit… but not to Tess… that it does look better. Tess unbuttons the top three buttons, exposing my chest.
“There’s the sexy bastard I know.”
“Thanks.” I pull her into a quick embrace before rushing out the door.
***********
“This machine is taken.”
The woman answers my polite smile with a sharp glare. “Being stingy never got no body anywhere,” she mumbles.
“There’re other machines that aren’t being used,” I say, still trying to keep my polite demeanor. I’m in a good mood lady, don’t test me.
“I can use this one if I want to,” she argues.
“Not if it’s already taken,
ma’am” I growl. She huffs, throwing her unruly red hair over her shoulder as she stalks away.
I’ve been waiting for over fifteen minutes and Lilly still hasn’t shown. I’ve been forcing myself to remain calm. Maybe she’s not a very punctual person. Or she’s possibly running late. I imagine that’s she’d distressed over what to wear. Maybe she wants to look good for me.
With that thought I decide to start my first load. I shove my carefully separated clothing into the washer and deposit a few coins in the slot.
Someone taps my shoulder and I growl in frustration. “Look lady, go find someone else to pester… Oh! H-Hey Lilly.”
“Hi.” I stare stupidly with a goofy grin as she drops her bag beside her feet and tucks her loose flowing hair behind her ear. “I didn’t mean to pester you.”
I jump to assure her. “Oh! No! Not you… never you… I…” she giggles and I realize she’s teasing me. “This woman was trying to steal your machine,” I explain, nervously shuffling my feet. Gone is my calm demeanor, I’m nervous as hell.
My eyes are drawn to her mouth as she pulls her bottom lip between her teeth. I would love to nibble on her lips. They move gracefully as she speaks and I’m so entranced, I realize she’s waiting for me to reply.
Berating myself for staring, I manage out a stupid, “Huh?” and concentrate on listening to what she’s saying.
She shifts uncomfortably on her feet. “I said I’m sorry for making you wait. I got caught up at work.”
“It’s okay. I just got here myself,” I lie.
She nods, and begins to load her clothes into the washer. I take a seat on the bench in front of the machines, watching her and enjoying the view immensely. She’s wearing a simple pink t-shirt and jeans that hug her hips perfectly. Her neatly trimmed dark hair falls halfway down her back in a smooth wave.
I’ve never seen anyone more beautiful.
I can smell her soft vanilla scent when she sits next to me. “Hi.”
“Hi,” I return, laughing at the awkward tension.
“I like your shirt,” she says, blushing as she reaches out, fiddles with one of my buttons before pulling her hand away.
Thank God for Tess.
“Thanks. I like yours too.” She laughs and I can tell she relaxes a little. “So uh… I didn’t think you were going to call.”
“Yeah well, doing laundry with a friend is always better than sitting here by myself,” she laughs.
I gasp in mock distress. “So you mean I’m just a step up from loneliness? How come my ego deflates ever time I’m around you?”
She smiles. “That’s not what I meant. I just mean that you’re a nice guy. There aren’t enough guys like you around.”
My heart does a flip. She thinks I’m a nice guy. And nice guys always finish first… most of the time… hopefully.
“Thanks. And I think you’re a nice girl.”
She slips a lock her hair behind her ear as her lips curl up in a coy smile. “Thanks.”
“I uh… I bet your boyfriend wouldn’t be too thrilled to find out that you were hanging out with a nice guy.”
I immediately regret bringing that into the conversation. Not only because it tears my heart in two knowing she’s taken, but because her smile gradually dims until her lips are pursed in a thin line.
Mouth, meet foot.
“Actually,” she starts quietly, “I’m… as of a few days ago we’re not seeing each other anymore.”
I’m not sure what to make of the expression on her face. “Oh. I’m sorry. I hope it wasn’t anything I did.” Once I realize what I’ve just said, I wince at how it sounded. “That has got to be the most self-centered thing anyone has ever said,” I chuckle nervously. “I meant, I hope he didn’t find my number and…”
She smiles, immediately putting me at ease. “No, it wasn’t that.”
I nod, but I still feel responsible. Maybe it’s because I’ve been praying for them to break up since I found out she had a boyfriend. “Lilly, I just want you to know that I never meant to overstep any boundaries when I gave you my number. I knew you were with uh…”
“Ethan,” she adds.
“Yeah. Right. I knew you were with him, but I’m not one to step on another guy’s toes. I wanted us to be friends.”
Her smile returns. “I know Max. Like I said, you’re a nice guy.”
We fall into an easy conversation and I realize the more we talk, the deeper my crush grows.
At one point, I ask her if she’d like to get ice cream while we wait for our clothes. She readily declines, fidgeting while saying she wouldn’t want to leave her stuff and come back to find it stolen. I shrug, content to just be near her.
I’ve lost track of time and we stay and talk long after our clothes are done washing. It’s late into the afternoon when she starts to pack up.
“I had a great time today Lilly,” I tell her, “Finally I found someone I can have an intelligent conversation with about CSI.”
“I had fun too, Max.”
“Good,” I sigh, stalling for time. I’ve been trying to gather the courage to ask her to dinner. I decide to just come out with it. “I was wondering, maybe you’d like to have dinner with me tonight.” She looks surprised and her fidgeting returns. “That is if you don’t have any plans. I’d understand…”
She’s biting her lip. “I don’t know Max. Maybe we shouldn’t…”
“Come on Lilly. Don’t make me beg because I’m not above it.” I’m desperate, but I don’t care. I’m sure she’s realized this by now and I’ll do anything just to be with her.
“I’m starting to realize that,” she giggles.
I ease my hand towards hers. First lightly trailing my fingers over her arm and judging her reaction to see if my touch is welcome. She subtly pulls away, and resumes putting her clothes in her bag. I can take a hint and instead, shove my hands into my pockets.
Feeling rejected, I begin to pack up, but as I look at her, I can’t help but feel that funny feeling in the pit of my stomach. Maybe I’ll try again another…
“What time?”
I almost get whip lash as I turn to her in shock. I stammer horribly. “Oh! Um… I uh, maybe six… I guess.” My casual shrug greatly contradicts the maniac pounding my heart is doing. “I know this great Mexican restaurant…”
She shuffles her feet, tucking her hands in her back pocket. “I was thinking that maybe we could have dinner at your place. I… I just don’t feel like being around a lot of people right now,” she explains when I lift my brows in surprise. “I-If it’s okay with you, I mean.”
You can move in if you want to. Luckily I don’t embarrass myself by saying that out loud. “That’s fine. We can hang out at my place. I can pick up a few movies.”
She lets a nervous smile touch her lips as she hoists her bag on her shoulder. I run out to my car to retrieve a pen and paper and I quickly scribble down my address.
“How about we decide what to eat when you get there?” She agrees readily, and I quickly say goodbye and hurry home all the while wondering how the hell I’m going to get my apartment clean by six o’clock.
***********
Lilly buzzes just as I stuff the vacuum back into the closet. “Come on up,” I say through the intercom. Her soft answer filters through the apartment and I have to take a moment to calm my excitement.
Moments later, she knocks on the door and I count to ten before I swing it open. “Hey. I’m glad you made it,” I say, stepping aside to let her in.
“Yeah… uh me too.” She stands rooted to one spot, her hands tucked into her back pockets as she surveys the room.
“Have a seat,” I say, guiding her gently to the couch. “Make yourself at home.”
“Thanks,” she murmurs softly, stiffly sinking onto the couch.
I frown. She bites her lip and begins to fidget, wringing her hands together tightly.
“Do you want anything to drink? Soda, water, juice, beer…”
“Um… I’m okay. Thanks.”
Nodding in acceptance, I sink onto the space beside her. “Does it smell in here?”
She looks at me for the first time since she’s been here. “What?”
“You just seem really uncomfortable. I sprayed that Febreze stuff… My roommate emits odors sometimes…” I chuckle at my sad attempt at a joke. “Am I making you uncomfortable?”
“No I…” A nervous laugh escapes. “I’m sorry. I… I’ve never seen a guy’s apartment so clean before.”
I laugh, choosing to ignore her sudden subject change. Whatever was bothering her, she seems to have let it go. She relaxes and an easy smile adorns her lips.
“Yeah well, it’s only because I’ve been running around here like a crazy person trying to clean. Would you like a tour?” After busting my ass to make this place spotless she damn well better want a tour.
She nods. I grab her elbow and lead her down the hall. After the tour and five minutes of her laughing at my “chunder shirt”, I throw the damn thing in the box to be taken to the Salvation Army and we order pizza.
I’ve inhaled close to seven slices and Lilly is looking at me weird. I shrug sheepishly, and even though I want another slice, I refrain from grabbing one.
“You can’t tell me that if say… Jessica Simpson was 50 pounds heavier that she’d still be as popular as she is,” Lilly argues. “It has to do with image.”
Somehow we’ve gotten onto the subject of unrealistic body images and what’s considered expectable for men and women. Sadly, I’m losing the argument, because she’s slowly drawing me to her side.
“I’d still like her,” I argue weakly.
She snorts and I laugh. “Of course.”
“What? She sings really well.” She gives me an incredulous look and reaches for another slice of pizza. “Okay, miss smarty. What if I was some pounds overweight?”
She shrugs. “What about it? You’d be no different. I mean you’d have the same personality. I’d still hang out with you.”
“Yeah, cause I’m such nice guy.”
She nods. “You are.”
“And nice guys, regardless of weight, finish first right?” I tease, finally giving in and reaching for another slice.
“Well,” she drawls. “Not unless the bad guy is bigger and stronger, yeah?”
“But a true good guy will always find a way to over come,” I argue, triumphant that I’ve won.
She shrugs and says, “But it doesn’t always work out like that. Not everyone gets a happy ending.”
I sputter, unable to come up with a rebuttal. “Whose side are you on anyway?”
She laughs. “Naturally the good guys,” she says. “But some bad guys can have appealing qualities.”
Her eyes are bright and twinkling as our gazes meet. It sends a shiver down my spine and I lean and little closer. “Well, I can have a bit of a bad side once in a while.”
She doesn’t respond, but she looks at me from under her lashes and I’m a goner. That look gets me every time and I’m sure if I wasn’t sitting, I’d be swaying on my feet.
“You have sauce on your face.”
She looks down as if she could see her own face. “Where?”
I laugh. “Here.” I have a perfect excuse to lean closer and I scoot over until we’re practically sitting on the same cushion. I gently wipe her face clean with a paper towel. Finishing it off with a kiss to her cheek, I linger there for a few extra seconds, loving the feeling of her smooth skin beneath my lips.
“Thank you,” she breathes softly.
Her cheeks are stained with a pretty blush. My lips meet her other cheek, and get lost in her scent, in her.
She’s tense, albeit unsure of what I’m doing. I’m not even sure. But I can’t stop myself. Her fingers twine with mine and I squeeze gently. She relaxes, knowing its okay. Still I breathe out, “I won’t hurt you.”
I can’t explain what’s happening. Before I know it, I’m traveling along her jaw, peppering slow, soft kisses on her warm skin. It leads me to her neck, her velvety, elegant neck. I don’t know where to land first and I drift a breath’s width away, leaving ghost kisses behind.
She shivers. My arms slide around her waist. I watch her to judge her reaction. Her eyes are closed, her brow furrowed in a slight frown, but still, she leans against me. Still I can’t explain what’s going on inside of me. I can’t put a name to what I’m feeling.
I feel her pulse beneath my lips, elated that her heart is beating just as fast as mine. My journey leads me to her collarbone and the mole just above it. I want to go further and I travel along her shoulder until her silk is replaced by cotton as it disappears beneath her shirt.
I don’t get to explore her further and taste the other birthmark I spotted on her shoulder because she pulls away, violently ripping me from my trance.
“I… We can’t. I’m sorry.” Her eyes are still closed and her frown has grown deeper. She folds her arms across herself as her eyes flutter open. Then, I know she wants this just as much as I do.
I can see it in her eyes. And in the moment, I know, I can feel myself falling.
TBC……..
Saturday
