“I’m so sorry to hear it,” I replied, envisioning poor Patricia fighting her way out of the mud. “Has she been regressing?”
“No, we were making a little progress, but something got into her and she’s been nastier than ever. Maybe it’s the turn in the weather?”
“Yeah, the cold snap came out of nowhere.” I pulled the blanket tighter around my body. “Is everyone else doing okay?”
“They are. Darling is the problem. Can you come back and help us again? That is, if you’re not scared off.”
I laughed. I’d done time with snarling, snapping, muscle-bound leash-reactive dogs, so a bossy old goat with devil eyes was nothing.
“Not at all, I’d be happy to help.”
As long as your son isn’t around.
“Thank you so much, Chelsea. I’ll make it work whenever you can fit me in.”
We figured out a mutually agreeable time and I found myself wishing that I could introduce Pat to my mom. They reminded me of one another.
“Maybe I’ll run into you at the party?” Patricia said hopefully. “Andrew tells me that you both have events scheduled for the same night. He’s disappointed because he said he wanted to bring Dude to your costume contest. But he’s been working on his launch for so long and he’s really excited for it. Maybe you can pop over after yours ends? I’m sure we’ll be there late into the evening. He’s got quite a crowd coming.”
I sighed. Of course he did.
“I’ll definitely try,” I replied, not sure if it was a lie or not. Part of me wanted to observe the spectacle of his grand opening. To reacquaint myself with “party Andrew.” It pained me to admit that I sort of enjoyed watching him amp people up, because he made it look effortless. And maybe it actually was for him? I had to command crowds as well, to encourage distracted clients and busy dogs to stay focused on me in a noisy room. I’d worked at developing the ability. Andrew seemed to have been born with it.
“Wonderful! Thank you so much, Chelsea. We all really appreciate your help.”
I wondered if the “all” included her son.
“Andrew loved what you did with Dude at his first session. And he said he was impressed with how you did at Crush. Sounds like you two are going to be great neighbors!”
She really had no clue. Andrew hadn’t filled her in about our history.
“Thanks, I’m doing my best,” I managed to respond before we hung up.
It wasn’t easy, being so close to him on a daily basis. I didn’t see him around much, but there were always reminders that he was existing just beyond the empty space in between us. The occasional garbage bags that still managed to land outside the bin and wound up ripped open by the raccoon posse. His Jeep parked haphazardly. Teeth-rattling blasts of Metallica through the vent when he didn’t realize that I was in my building.
I clutched my phone to my chest and watched Edith go to town on the rubber toy. The only consolation to being forced to work near him was the knowledge that there was clearly no way he remembered that night. There wasn’t even ahintthat it had an impact on him. Because if he did remember I’d expect some sort of jokey acknowledgment of how drunk he’d been. Too much alcohol was the only reason why he ever would’ve traded down to me.
But that night? I didn’t recognize him, because it felt like he adored me. He couldn’t stop kissing me and his hands were gentle and wild all over my body, like he was desperate to touch every inch of me. In the heat of the moment I didn’t care how drunk he was. I just wanted him to keep going.
The next morning I was horrified to realize that I’d sent him a text after I was done throwing up but before I’d passed out. I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to block out the few words I still remembered, like “obsessed” and “forever” and “girlfriend.” It wasn’t like me to be so forward with Andrew, but I’d still been on the high of everything he’d said to me while we were twisted around each other in that room. That I was beautiful. How he’d always wanted to kiss me. That I scared him and he liked it. Promises that this would be the first of many nights together.
When I’d woken up I was alone, curled up under Nolan’s blazer on a hard bench, and my phone was nowhere to be found.
Andrew had left a reminder of what we’d done, the tiniest love bite at the base of my neck, which was too close to the exact spot where he’d placed his fingertips during our workout at Crush. It didn’t matter that the rest of the night was muted and hazy, everything we’d done in that cramped space was seared in my mind forever.
It had started with a kiss that was meant to be a joke. A dare. “I bet you won’t kiss me,” I’d taunted, leaning close to him, hoping that the front of my dress was slipping down enough to tempt him. I was prepared to keep at it, to goad him into doing it, but he’d shocked me and pushed me up against the wall the second the words were out of my mouth.
“Oh yeah?” I remember the scent of mint on his breath, like he’d prepared for exactly this. “What do I win if you lose the bet?”
The logistics were beyond me so I’d come back with “Then you get to kiss me!”
His lips were on mine in a flash, hungry, soft, and more delicious than I’d ever imagined.
He’d pulled away and I remembered pouting, but then his hand had trailed up my bare legs while he held my gaze in the world’s sexiest game of chicken. He was daring me to stop him, to move out of his reach, but there was no way I could. I wanted it, wantedhim, and he knew it. My breath hitched as his hand skimmed higher, spreading out on my thigh to claim more of the bare skin beneath my dress. He teased goose bumps everywhere he touched, then he gently raised the hem of my dress, bent over, and softly kissed the tops of my thighs to warm me.
As if I needed more heat. I was kindling, smoldering, readyto burst into flames. And he was just inches from striking the match.
Keep going, keep going. It had been a chant as he teased me, a prayer. I was desperate for more.
