“Good.” She pulls forward her Louis Vuitton briefcase and settles her elbows over it. “Let’s get out of this adolescent pigsty and have some real fun. Marcus picked the kids up from school today. I’m all yours for the weekend.” She pulls her lip in slowly with her teeth. Invitation sent.
“Can’t do it.” My eyes float nervously past her. “I’m meeting someone—and before your mind wanders, it’s not like that.”
“Oh?” She darts her gaze around the room quick as a pinball machine. “Then what’s it like?”
“Just doing a friend a favor.” I take another hit off my beer and give a casual glance over my shoulder. I’m not sure how to classify what I’m doing with Marley. Not sure if she’s a friend, but in the least that’s how I see her.
Monica leans in with the determination of a cougar with her ovaries on fire. “How about doing this friend a favor?”
Our eyes connect, and as much as I’d like to, I can’t look away. Monica and I have a history. We were together, seemingly in love, for what felt like an eternal portion of my life. I can feel her wanting me. The slight hint of desperation lingers in the air, and I wish it didn’t. I wish she could see that even though I’m unattached, I’ve moved on.
“What’s the favor, Mon?” I plop my beer back on the table like the slamming of a gavel.
“My father’s house is about to go on the market. I need to be in Aspen for two weeks minimum. I was hoping you wouldn’t mind coming along.”
“Really?” She surprised me there. Two weeks is enough time to rekindle just about any flame, but I’m afraid in our situation she’ll only going to find out the hard way there’s nothing left between us. “Sorry about your father.” Both of Monica’s parents are gone, her father being the last to pass away. “Let me think about it. Forward me the details, and I’ll see what I can work out.” Not sure why I didn’t just say no. Most likely because her father was a good guy, and the thought of crushing her while he lingers around us like a ghost makes it that much less appealing. I’ll let her down slowly some other time.
Her phone rings, and she quickly inspects it. “I’d better take this outside. Be right back.” She slices by at a quickened pace, and a flood of relief fills me.
I’m not sure why Monica feels like a lead coat lately, but I’d hate for her to sense it. We’ve known each other too long, gone through too much bullshit to simply forget one another existed. It’s a wonder she still speaks to me let alone wants to fall into my bed. She’s the one who went out and found someone else while I thought our relationship was still going strong. In truth, I didn’t feel so strongly about it, and that’s exactly why I wasn’t so surprised when she walked out the door. I think that’s why I feel so bad for Marley. I get the confusion you feel when the one you’re with is suddenly with someone else. It sucks, and it can sting like hell. It makes you insane—so much so that you might find yourself having contractual sex with someone you hardly even know. That’s why I wanted to pull the timeline out a good month. At least give her a chance to clear her head.
A cool pair of hands momentarily covers my eyes. That familiar gardenia scent surrounds me, and I don’t need my vision to tell me who it is. The warmth of her body covers my back, and I fight the urge to lean against her.
“Annie?” I tease.
“Be quiet, you.” Marley slinks into the seat across from me as I hold back a laugh. Her hair is up, waterfalling into a cascade of curls at the crown. Her face glows like the moon. Marley shines with her crystal blue eyes heavily lined in dark kohl. It’s a vexingly gorgeous effect I can’t seem to tear my gaze from.
“I want you.” The words slip out before I can stop them.
“You want me?” She spikes in her seat, pleasantly amused at the statement. Not sure why it surprises her. My body, my eyes, each breath I take confirms that I want her every time she’s near me.
It’s clear I don’t have any control over my tongue when she’s around.
“I want you—to dance with me.” That’s definitely not what I was going to say, nor is it remotely what I want, but, apparently, I’ve been possessed by a frat boy, so I take off my jacket and go with it. “Come on.” I pick up her hand and head to the dance floor. Blake ends one song on a wild jolting note, and I cringe at what I’m about to do. Hell, I know what I need to do. I’ll simply move and shake like a monkey who’s being electrocuted, and Marley will want nothing more to do with me. If that contract didn’t scare her off, I think my dance moves will cement the need to flee.