A Life Like This (Life #1) (6 page)

“Come on, Roger, let’s go to bed. Mommy is spent for one day.” Roger happily follows me to my room and hops onto his side of the now messy bed. I go to the bathroom and do my bedtime ritual of washing my face and brushing my teeth. Once complete, I drag myself to bed and am out before I know it.

I wake up at six thirty; it’s an issue I have. I cannot sleep in to save my life. No matter how late I am up the night before or how tired I am, I wake before seven am. It’s a curse really. I stretch as I make my way to the bathroom. Ugh, I’m surprisingly sore. I usually don’t get sore. Hmm, Blake must be larger than I gave him credit for, and that’s saying something. Roger is whining at the bathroom door, desperate for a run. There goes my lazy Sunday morning. I brush my teeth and throw my hair up in a messy ponytail. “All right, Roger, you win. Let me get dressed.” I pat his head then I make my way over to my dresser to change into my running clothes.

Roger and I are out of the house by seven. At the foot of the stairs, I make Roger wait while I pick a new Pandora station on my phone.  JoJo says I’m weird because I run to slow music, but it calms me. Today I pick Sia Radio. She is my favorite artist and all songs on this station are calming. Once my headphones are in place, I’m ready. “Left or right, Roger?” I ask even though I have an idea he is going to break routine and go right again. Yep, he heads to the right. We find our pace like usual and head off.

This early on a Sunday morning is so tranquil. There is no one out, minimal cars on the road, and just me, my dog, and my thoughts. I scan my surroundings a lot this morning, perhaps hoping I’ll see Blake pop out of a bush or something. I know it’s wishful thinking on my part and that’s what scares me. I’ve never wanted to just run into a man, literally in this case. Don’t get me wrong, there have been plenty of guys I’ve wanted sexually on many occasions, but with Blake, I don’t know what it is. I want more than sex. We have this connection. He gets my sense of humor, something that most men don’t. I’ve been told I’m rather blunt, and apparently, men don’t like that. Blake goes with it, always ready with a comeback. I don’t remember having this much fun with a man other than JoJo in a long time. It’s a troubling thought. I don’t do relationships, so I need to back the fuck off this guy before I do something stupid. Or before he hurts me emotionally, and I don’t do well with emotional hurt. I’ve been through enough of that in my life.

Roger and I make it back home without incident, but I find I am disappointed I didn’t run into Blake. Fuck, I have it bad. What? Do I expect him to run with me every day? Wouldn’t that have been creepy if I did run into him? Yes, very creepy. Okay, enough of that. I feed Roger breakfast then head to my room. Figuring I have to fill my day before I spend it thinking about Blake any more, I hurriedly call JoJo to make plans.

“Hey, JoJo!” I squeal into the phone.

“Ugh, baby girl, not all of us wake up at the ass crack of dawn like you,” he grumbles back at me.

“It’s eight am, hardly early. I’ve been up since six thirty, you’re lucky I didn’t call you then,” I reply sweetly.

“Yes, thank you for that. So what’s up?”

“I want to do something today. I don’t want to sit at home twiddling my thumbs all day.”

“I’m meeting Sammy and the guys for brunch and karaoke at ten thirty, you want to come with?” he asks.

“That sounds like fun. I’ll shower and change and be at your house in an hour,” I reply.

“See you then, AP.”

I take a long shower, shave, and wash my hair. I hop out and lather up on my lotion and moisturizer before blow drying my long hair and straightening it. Rather than doing my makeup, I throw my makeup bag in my purse. I’ll make JoJo do it; he’s better at it than I am anyway. I pick a pair of leggings with a long sweater shirt and wedge boots and head out the door.

The taxi ride to JoJo’s is quick and I let myself into his apartment with my key.

“Honey, I’m home!” I call as I walk in.

“Someone is in a good mood this morning. You get laid last night?” Joey teases as he walks into his living room wearing only pajama bottoms and his hair looking perfectly messed up per usual. When I take a second too long to respond, he stops and glares at me. Shit. “Angelica, I warned you about that man. Be careful. You don’t even know him,” he yells at me.

“Ugh, Joey, I don’t know what it is with him. I lose my sense of control.” I plop down on his leather couch and don’t look up. I know the disappointed look he is shooting at me. He walks over and sits on the glass table in front of me.

“I’m not trying to be mean, and you know that, Angelica. I’m only looking out for you. I can tell you like him, and I know you’ll do something stupid to push him away. I just want you to take it slow and be careful. You’ve been through enough.” He puts his finger under my chin and forces me to meet his eyes. I love this man like a brother. He is my rock.

“You’re right, Joey. I’m trying. I won’t let my old habits take over.” I give him my signature lopsided smile. He grins back.

“What the hell am I going to do with you, baby girl? Come on. Let’s go do your makeup.” He grabs my hand and leads me to his room.

An hour later, my makeup is done and Joey is ready to go. He is wearing his designer jeans and a cable-knit sweater with his trendy leather Troopah boots I constantly make fun of. I just don’t get fashion. I laugh at him as he walks out of his closet and he pushes me, knowing exactly what I’m laughing about.

“Shut up, they are in and expensive as hell,” he reprimands as he looks at his boots.

“If you say so,” I reply as I grab the Polaroid camera. We snap a quick picture then head out to hail a cab. The drive is short and we arrive right at ten forty-five. Sammy is outside smoking, and rushes over when he sees us getting out of the cab. I run to him as JoJo pays the fare.

“Oh, Sammy dear, how I have missed you,” I call in my fake British accent – I can do a mean British accent.

“Oh, Bella Angie girl, you look stunning as usual,” Sammy responds as he puts out his cigarette, grabs me in a bear hug, and spins me in a circle. Joey laughs at us our overly dramatic greeting.

The feel of this small restaurant is very welcoming with its Indian influence. There are bright colors on the walls, and random tables and seats scattered in no particular order. Against the back wall of the restaurant is a small stage that travels all the way across the wall. There are barstools and instruments set aside ready for people to use, and an older piano sits in the corner. There is one microphone stand dead center, just waiting for its first victim. Of course, there is the small television sitting on the floor in front of the stage so people can cheat and look at the lyrics if they need it. It’s a random place to host karaoke, but it fits. The city is magical like that.

Our group is already seated at the large table in the middle of the restaurant. We exchange pleasantries with everyone then place our order. As we are chatting it up, we sit through three karaoke renditions and have booed them all. Yes, this is what you do at this restaurant in particular, but it’s all in good fun. A few men from our group go up to sing Y.M.C.A., and they get cheered on as they go because their performance out does their vocals. I love hanging out with these men; it is always a good time.

After the group of men come back to the table, they start chanting for me and Joey to go on and duet. Shit. This isn’t the first time this has happened. Joey and I actually have really good voices. We constantly sing while we’re getting ready to go out, or are just hanging out at home. We have sang karaoke before, but I’m usually piss-ass drunk. I’ve only had two mimosas; I’m nowhere near that point, yet. But of course, Joey being the cocky fuck he is, stands and bows at the table. The cheers get louder, damn it. He grabs my hand and drags me up to the small stage before pulling up two stools and the guitar they have sitting aside the stage. He makes me sit in one stool while he situates the guitar to his liking.

“Hello everyone, my name is Joey,” he says into the mic as most of the women and some men cheer loudly. He pauses and smiles, knowing how to work the crowd. “This here is my best friend Angie.” More cheers, but I look down at my feet. I am so incredibly embarrassed right now and he knows it too. But I am up here because I can never back down. I’m not sure if it’s a good trait or a bad trait, but I feel like I was challenged, so here I am on a tiny stage, turning beet red and getting ready to sing whatever Joey decides on.

“Today we’re going to sing for you an acoustic version of, “Chandelier” by Sia. We hope you like it.” He strums the guitar and smiles at me. The restaurant goes quiet, and he taps his toe four times then starts to play the guitar. My heart is racing and I can barely hear him over the sound, but I can’t freeze up here. That would be even more embarrassing, so I listen for my cue then go...

We fall into sync with one another and sing the song as we have many times before in private. I never look up. Instead, I stare at Joey. He knows how I feel, so he stares back. To an outsider looking in, it might seem intimate, but in reality, he is supporting me, giving me strength to go on.

We sing the whole song effortlessly, and before I know it, we’re done. The sound of the cheers is deafening. Joey grabs my hand and we bow to our audience. I smile at the crowd once then hurry back to my seat.

“Angie doll, you have the voice of an angel,” Sammy croons to me. I laugh at his enthusiasm.

“Thank you, Sammy,” I reply right before I chug the rest of my mimosa. The rest of our brunch goes without incident as we listen to the good and the bad of the karaoke singers and enjoy our meal. We all head out about an hour later. Joey, Sammy, and I head off to do some shopping while the others head home. I spend the rest of the day shopping in all the boutiques in SoHo. We don’t stop until our arms are full of bags, and in my eyes, that is a great success. We say our goodbyes and each head into our own taxis. I get home and start putting away all of my purchases when I hear a ding indicating I have an email. I search my bed, which is covered in new clothes, for my phone. I eventually find it and plop down to read it. The title of the email alerts me right away who it is from, and the smile on my face is telling.

Frozen Yogurt Tastes Off

Ms. Cane,

My niece asked me to take her for froyo, as you call it, and I was happy to oblige. Only it tastes off without your company. I hope you are willing to accompany me from here on out; otherwise, I will have to stop indulging in my once favorite treats, for without you, it has lost its deliciousness.

-Blake

I think I read the short email five times before I decided to respond. The whole time I feel like a giddy schoolgirl. What is going on with me?

I Can Make It Taste Right

Mr. Harper,

How sweet an uncle you are to treat your niece to a nice sugary treat. I’m sorry to hear the taste is not the same in the absence of my presence. I will have to see what I can do to rectify said situation...

-Angelica

I hit send before I can change my mind. I know Joey told me to be careful, but I’m having fun with Blake and it comes so easy with him. Maybe I do want a relationship now. Perhaps settling down wouldn’t be such a bad thing. Before I have time to think that thought through any deeper, my phone dings. I smile as I read his response.

You Can Also Make It Hard

Ms. Cane,

Please choose your words carefully. I wouldn’t want you to start something you are not willing to finish...

-Blake

I Like It Hard

Mr. Harper,

I always finish what I start...

-Angie

I hit send quickly. I can’t wait for his reply. I’m horny just thinking about him being hard and how that hard cock feels deep inside of me, pleasing me. Very deep inside me. I can honestly say Blake has the biggest dick I’ve ever had the pleasure of fucking. The ding breaks me of my little fantasy.

I Like You

Angelica,

Care to start something with me?

-Blake

Start something? What does he mean? He is leaving this up for interpretation and my mind is going wild with it. He could mean he wants to start something like a fuck right now, or he could mean something like a relationship. Being the blunt person I’m known to be, I email him and ask him exactly what he means.

Please Explain

Blake,

Your last email can be interpreted many different ways. Care to be a little more specific?