Constructing Us (New Adult Romance) (17 page)

It didn’t take long for Pellican to
back off.  Casting his eyes to the side, he mumbled, “Look, sorry, man.  I, uh, guess I just lost it with the consoles.”

“It’s cool, forget it,” Tragan said
.  Honestly, he didn’t have time for petty bullshit today.  Not if he wanted to get Andy’s birthday surprise perfect. Besides, he knew Pellican was a hothead who could run off at the mouth until he was put in check.  No harm done as long as they dropped this whole rant on Andy’s decorating and got to work.

“So where do we start?” Bardo as
ked.

“
Follow me.”  As he turned around, Tragan said over his shoulder, “Hey, I appreciate your help with this.”

“Sure,”
Matt said.

“No problem,” Pellican agreed.

“All right,” Tragan said, leading the way.  “Now we have a lot to do…”

Chapter Thirty-three

“Can I look yet?”

“No,” Tragan replied, leading Andy through the front door.  He was walking behind her with his hands on her upper arms.  “I’ll tell you when.”

“Okay,” she agreed reluctantly, her eyes squeezed shut as she stepped carefully into the apartment.  By the way they headed straight, then curved to the right and kept going, Andy could tell they were crossing the living room, and moving in the direction of Tragan’s bedroom.  But she couldn’t even begin to guess what this was about; he’d sprung it on her that he had a surprise for her not five minutes ago, when they reached the third floor landing of their building.

“All
right, not yet,” Tragan said quickly, taking her hand.  “Wait.  Let me turn the light on.  Okay--now.”

It took a second for Andy to
blink and process her surroundings.  “Oh, my gosh…” she whispered, “What is this…?”

They were standing inside Tragan’s
bedroom now, though it almost wasn’t recognizable.  His futon bed was folded up into a couch.  Along another wall stood his desk, which was mostly cleared off.  Beside his closet door was still Tragan’s dresser, and the center of the room was open.  The greatest, most dramatic addition to the room was a huge wooden bookcase lining the wall across from where Tragan and Andy stood. 

“Since we spend every night together in your room, I figured I don’t
really need this bedroom anymore,” he told her.  “So I converted it into a reading room for you.  My friends helped me clear out all my crap.  Though I still have my clothes in here and some stuff in the closet, but the rest of the space is for you.”

“Tragan…” she whispered, feeling overwhelmed. 

“Do you like it?” Tragan asked in a low voice that sounded hopeful. 

Suddenly struggling to grab her breath, Andy couldn’t find words at first, as her eyes roved around the room--always falling back to the bookcase.  Unwittingly, she moved across the room toward it, and Tragan followed.  Standin
g about five feet tall and six feet wide, it looked thick and sturdy, and gleamed beautifully with a dark, lacquered finish.  “It’s gorgeous!” she breathed, reaching out to touch the first shelf, then turned her face toward his.  “I can’t believe you did all this.  And this bookcase is unbelievable.” 

“Good, it’s
all for you,” Tragan said, running his hand down her back.

Andy’s mouth was still curved open, her eyes wide.  “Did you
make
this?”  Normally she wouldn’t have assumed something like that, but she remembered the beautiful craftsmanship of the coffee table and couldn’t help wondering.

“Yes.  I almost didn
’t finish in time,” Tragan admitted with a half-smile. 

“But when--how--”

“Well, you know how I’ve had to ‘work late’ a lot over the past week or so?  I was actually working on this--at Matt’s.  He kept it for me there.  Listen, I’m sorry I was dishonest about the work thing, but I really didn’t want you to figure out what I was doing.”

Andy
almost laughed.  Touching his chest, she said, “Tragan, I would never guess something like
this
. This is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen!” she told him, again looking adoringly at the bookcase.  That was when she noticed that the shelves were empty except for one thin book to the far left.  “What’s that?” she said, stepping closer.  When she pulled the book out, she shot him a grin.  “
A Beginner’s Guide to Taiwanese Cooking
,” she read, eying Tragan, who was watching her. 

“You said something Asian,” he explained.
  “I picked it up at the bookstore this morning, after you left.” 

“Thank you. 
It’s just so clean in here!” she blurted, still in disbelief.

With a short laugh, Tragan said, “Like I
said, my friends helped me.  It wasn’t a cake-walk; I’m not going to lie.”  Suddenly he snaked his arm around her waist and pulled her to him.  “Happy birthday, baby,” he murmured softly and kissed her.

“But
this is all too much.”

“Nothing’s too much for your birthday,” he assured her, kissing her again.

“My birthday’s not for three days,” she remarked when their lips parted, though she wasn’t sure why she bothered saying that.

“I know
, but that’s part of the surprise.  I surprised you, right?”

“Oh, my God, ar
e you kidding me?” Andy gushed as tears filled her eyes.  “This is the most incredible surprise ever.  I--”  She was about to say “I love it,” but what burst out instead was the brave, unfiltered truth.  “I love you,” she told him.  At the words, Tragan’s expression became more serious.  Andy was quick to add: “You don’t have to say anything--”

“I love you, too,” he blurted, br
inging his hands to her jaw.  Tragan held her face tenderly, as he gazed into her eyes.  Then their mouths collided.  This time his kiss wasn’t sweet--it was passionate and possessive--and so was hers.  She wrapped her arms around his neck and dug her fingers into his hair, as their mouths mated and her tongue moved hungrily against his.  Raw desire sparked between them, blurring everything else but the physical need they felt for each other. 

Abruptly, Tragan scooped Andy
up in his arms and began carrying her out of the room.  As turned on as she was, she tried to be funny.  “Don’t you want to christen the futon?” she teased as Tragan crossed the threshold out of the room.

“No.”

Without another word, he brought her to her room--their room--and laid her on the bed.  Though they stripped quickly, when Tragan fell along side her, he made love to her with a slow intensity--burning her up decadently, unbearably.  After he’d worked her into an aroused frenzy with his tongue and hands, he slid a condom on and drove inside her. 

Still, he didn’t rush.  He kept in control, moving l
anguorously, determined to draw this out.  Soon Andy was begging for the sweet torture to go on and end at the same time. 

Then p
assion broke harder.  They ran their hands everywhere, claiming their territory, whispering words of love, and grinding into each other.  They’d started with Tragan on top, but then switched--rolled around and switched again.  The sex went on until they were both edged with sweat and left shaken. 

Afterward they lay together,
entwined and still connected.  It was such a heated and yet emotional experience, Andy couldn’t quite catch her breath at first, or even come to terms with the intensity of her feelings.  It was like Tragan knew, too, but didn’t know what to say, either.  They loved each other, and maybe Andy was naïve, but she just assumed something this incredible would have to last.

~

On Monday afternoon, Tragan was installing a stair railing while his crew hammered loudly in the foyer below, when he received an unexpected call. 
Ethan?
  Man, it had been a while since he’d talked to Ethan, or even recalled that he used to be his roommate.  In a strange way, he supposed, Tragan had half forgotten his life before Andy.  Mildly curious--but not exactly hurrying to answer--he brought the phone to his ear.  “Hello?”

“
Hey, Tragan.  It’s Ethan.”

“How’re you doing?” Tragan said, setting down the brackets he’d been holding in his palm.  “How’s
England?”

“
Everything is going really well,” Ethan stated.  “How’s it going in the apartment?  With Andy?”

Since Tragan wasn’t sure how much Andy had told Ethan about their relat
ionship, if anything, he kept it vague.  “Great.  No problems at all.”

“Good
.  I told you Andy was a sweetheart.”

“Can’t argue with that,”
Tragan agreed, the corner of his mouth turning up at the mention of Andy--at the knowledge that she was
his
sweetheart.

“Well, I’m calling about our lease.  It occurred to me that the renewal will be coming soon, and I want to make sure that I formally sign the ‘opt out’ portion so there are no misunderstandings with the landlord. 
So everything is official.”

“Okay…” Tragan said, not sure of Ethan’s point.  Also, though he’d temporarily forgotten
about Ethan Field, his former roommate’s starchy, uptight demeanor was all coming back to him now.

“To clarify,” Ethan continued, sounding precise, “I’ll be
moving into a new flat next month, so I just wanted to make sure you had the correct address.  I wondered: when the renewal comes, would you send me a copy?  After I sign it and have it notarized, I’ll mail it directly to the landlord.”

“Sure,
all right,” Tragan said.  “That’s no problem.”

“Thanks.”

“You got it, buddy.  Anything else?”

“No.  Well, a
ctually…”

“Yeah?”

Relaxing his tone somewhat, Ethan said, “Listen, can you try to get Andy to come to London?”

“
London,” Tragan repeated blankly.

“
This opportunity for her at the university is tremendous. I don’t want her to miss it.  I’m not sure what kind of pull you have with her, but for her sake, do what you can to get her on that plane.  Okay?”

Tragan’s pulse
sped up as an unsettling confusion closed in.  “Um…”

“Oh
, I have to run,” Ethan said quickly.  “I have a class now.  I’ll just text you that address if that’s okay.  Thank you for agreeing to mail me a copy of the renewal.”

“Sure,” Tragan replied distractedly. 

“And please, work on Andy.  She’ll like it over here,” Ethan proclaimed, before he disconnected. 

Troubled now,
Tragan’s mind raced.  What the hell was Ethan talking about?  What “tremendous” opportunity was waiting in London?  And why hadn’t Andy told him about it?

Chapter Thirty-four

Sitting at a corner table overlooking the Charles River, Andy was waiting for the right moment to tell her mom about Tragan--which came after they ordered sparkling water and seared tuna.  However, Kathryn preempted her.  “Andy, I can’t hold my tongue any longer.”

“Oh?”

“We need to talk.”

“
Hmm, that was going to be my opener actually.”

Kathryn arched her dark blonde eyebrows.  “Is there something you want to tell me
then?  I certainly hope so, because I am at a loss as to what has been going on with you over the past few weeks.”

Scrunching her forehead, Andy asked,
“What do you mean by that?”

“
I talked to Darcy this morning,” she began, referring to Ethan’s mother.  “She told me there’s a Bronsteg study that Ethan can get you into at the university.”  Kathryn’s slightly accusing tone made Andy sink an inch lower in her seat.  Darcy Field was Kathryn’s long-time friend.  Shoot, Andy should have realized the London thing would get back to her.  “Here, Darcy is telling me all about this incredible opportunity for you, and my own daughter hasn’t said a
word
to me about it.”

“Because I’m not doing it,” Andy
interrupted.  “That’s why I didn’t bother getting into it, Mom.”

By Kathryn’s stiff posture and
now pursed lips, Andy could tell that wasn’t a sufficient response.  “Why not?” she questioned.  “Darcy said that according to Ethan, the professor conducting the study is addressing physical symptoms that match Bronsteg Disorder exactly.  Darcy said your condition might even be tied to an allergy.  An
allergy
, Andy!”

Determined to dismiss the topic, Andy said,
“Please, it’s just a way-out-there theory.  I’m not going all the way to Europe for that.”  Not when Europe was thousands of miles away from Tragan--but of course she couldn’t say that.  

“How do you know?
We have to at least try!”  With her eyes almost pleading, Kathryn managed to appear both hopeful and incredibly frustrated.

“Mom,
it’s just going to be another dead end.”

“Andy, be reasonable--”
 

“
And just so you know: it’s really a study about pesticide chemicals, not Bronsteg, per se.  Ethan told me that this Dr. Strand who’s running the study has been working on a theory that exposure to certain chemicals can trigger symptoms--”

“Yes,
your
symptoms.”

“But he’s still trying to establish a common link.  It’s all speculation, pretty much.”

“Andaline--”

“Mom, I don’t want to take off and go to
London now,” Andy said firmly.  “Ethan said it’s an eight-month study that is already in progress.”

“Yes, but
because of Ethan’s assistantship with an environmental biology professor who knows Dr. Strand, he can get you in late.  We have to try everything!”

“No,
please
,” Andy nearly snapped, suddenly hearing a thready, desperate quality in her voice.  How hard was her mom going to push this?  The thought of leaving Boston now, after she’d found Tragan and was so happy with him…when she was finally sleeping again and feeling excited about life…no, she wouldn’t do it. 

She wasn’t a fool; s
he knew long-distance relationships didn’t work.  Andy had seen many of her high school friends split with their boyfriends when they went to different colleges, and she’d witnessed a college roommate’s relationship crumble when the girl had left to study abroad.  Realistically, she and Tragan had only just begun dating.  Even though they loved each other, how could she pick up and move to Europe for six months and expect nothing to change between them?  Feeling a lump of emotion rise in her throat, Andy steeled her resolve.  Her mother wouldn’t convince her, end of story.  

“
Please, drop this, Mom, I’m begging you.  I don’t want to live like a lab rat, okay?  That’s why I dropped that study at St. Catherine’s.  Are you going to lecture me about that, too?” she said, hoping to divert her attention. 

It worked. 

“Oh, yes, of course,” Kathryn remarked, annoyed.  “The drug study you abandoned
before it was even finished.  You just up and quit.  And St. Catherine’s is a very reputable hospital.  I know people there from my charity work with the Ladies’ League,” she added unnecessarily.  Mothers had a way of being wise, yet simultaneously peppering their wisdom with lots of information you already knew.  Still Andy was relieved, because focusing on St. Catherine’s meant taking the focus off of going to London.  “Quitting like that was very impulsive, and that doesn’t even seem like you.”

“Well, that’s not entirely true,” Andy pointed out carefully.  “M
oving into Ethan’s apartment was pretty impulsive.”

“T
hat’s another thing!” Kathryn went on, gathering steam now.  “It seems that ever since you moved in with this
Helga
, you’ve been making decisions that defy human logic.  I mean, really, Andy, what woman tosses away a man like Brad Trewell by choice?”  Her motherly concern was blatantly mingled with disappointment. 

“I didn’t want to be with him,” Andy said simply.

“But he has it all!” Kathryn insisted.  “He’s successful, educated, handsome, charming.  What on earth were you thinking breaking up with him?”  Although Andy opened her mouth to speak, Kathryn was clearly on a tear, and continued.  (She was usually so composed, but when that mom valve blew, there was no telling how much maternal angst she might let out.)  “Emma tells me to trust you, that it’s your life, but…I’m afraid none of this sits well with me, Andy.  I really think I need to meet this Helga girl and see what kind of influence she’s having over you.”

Now
Andy couldn’t help rolling her eyes--not at her mother, though, but because Helga didn’t even exist and the whole situation was ridiculous.  Even more ridiculous perhaps was for Andy
not
to pick this moment to tell her mother the truth.  Nevertheless, she held her tongue.  After all, she wanted her mom to like Tragan, not blame him for Andy’s slew of “mistakes” over the past several weeks. 

To make matters w
orse, Kathryn softened her tone and went for a moment of entreaty.  “Look, Andy, in a way I understand.  You’ve graduated college recently, you’re becoming, well, restless.  Brad was your first boyfriend and your first love and now you’re wondering what else is out there, etcetera, etcetera.  It’s just a phase,” Kathryn told her plainly.  “There’s nothing better out there, I promise.”

“Mom, stop,” Andy said, holding up a hand.  She couldn’t suppress a sigh.  “
Boy, this isn’t off to a good start.  When I asked you to have lunch, I
did
want to talk to you about my love life--but not about Brad.” Kathryn’s furrowed eyebrows silently asked what else a talk about Andy’s love life could entail.  “Okay, I’ll just rip the band-aid off.  The truth is: I have a new boyfriend.”

For a
long second, her mother only blinked at her.  Then she said, “When on earth did this happen?  Dear God, is
he
the reason you broke up with Brad?”  Unfortunately, her tone implied an immediate dislike for whoever
he
was.

“
Technically, he played a part in my decision, yes, but Brad and I have been spinning our wheels for a while now,” Andy said.

Apparently unwilling to accept reality, Kathryn retorted,
“But Brad’s so perfect!”

“On paper
, maybe!” Andy said, getting exasperated.  Really, her mom knew Brad on only the most superficial of levels.  Couldn’t she see that? “Look, he’s a great guy but we just never reached that deeper level.  You called him my first love, but I don’t think I was ever really in love with Brad.  Not like this.”

Kathryn wrote off Andy’s confession with a wave of her perfectly manicured hand.  “Oh, you’re so young
.  You don’t know what love is yet.”

“Mom, that
is so condescending!  C’mon, you can’t have it both ways.  Either I loved Brad or I didn’t.  Now you’re saying I loved him but am too young and ignorant to know it--and therefore I should stay in a relationship with him even though it feels wrong for me?”  Appearing struck, Kathryn sat wordless as Andy pressed on.  “Okay, do you remember that time when you met, um, Helga’s boyfriend, Jamie?”

After a moment, Kathryn
gave a reserved nod.  “Yes.  That rude young man who sat on the couch with his back to us instead of greeting me properly?”

“Right, well do you remember his friend, Tragan?  The one who
did
come over to you, the one who shook your hand?”

“Vaguely,” Kathryn began--
before her glittery blue eyes widened in a troubled epiphany.  “Oh, no…don’t tell me…”

“Yes.”

“Dear God, not
him
?” she said, appearing scandalized.

“
Yes,
him
.” With a groan, Kathryn brought her fingers to her temples.  “Mom, I really care about him a lot.”  If she told the unabashed truth, that she was deeply in love with Tragan Barrett, Kathryn might belittle the notion, accuse her of being overwrought, or even blame the whole thing on Helga.

“You
‘really care’ about that
ruffian
?” 

“Oh,
Mom, please.  How is Tragan a ‘ruffian’?  He is so sweet!”

“Didn’t he have
tattoos
?”

“One tattoo, big deal.
” 

“
Sorry, that’s just one more than I have,” Kathryn replied with chilly sarcasm.

Willfully, Andy kept her tone lighthearted. 
“Mom, you’re so old-fashioned.  Besides, Tragan explained his tattoo to me; it has meaning,” she said, not generating any noticeable interest from her mother.  “See, he didn’t plan to get a tattoo, just went with a friend a few years ago, but then he saw a design that looked similar to an old family crest.  His dad’s family is originally from Ireland…”

“Mmm-hmm,” Kathryn said dist
ractedly and cleared her throat as the waitress brought their sparkling water.  “Andaline,” she said sternly after the waitress left.  “Enough of this nonsense.  What does he do for a living?”

“He works in construction.
”

“Gee and why did I think he was a ruffian?
” Kathryn muttered.

“You act like I just said he was a cage fighter.”

“I don’t even know what that is.”

“Mom, without
construction work, we’d have no houses.”

“Well thank you
, Miss Social Conscience.”

With a determined breath, Andy looked caringly into her
mother’s eyes.  “Look, Mom, Tragan is my boyfriend now.  You need to give him a chance, that’s it.  And if you want me to come to dinner tomorrow, I need your word that you’re going to be welcoming to him.”

“Of course you’re coming.  It’s your birthday dinner.”

“And I’ve invited him to come, because I want him there.  Plus, I’ve already told him how great my family is, so I couldn’t bear it if you weren’t nice.”

Clearly insulte
d, Kathryn said, “Since when am I rude to guests in my home?”

Andy smiled at her.  “
So you’ll give him a real chance?  Please, he makes me happy,” she added a bit more softly.

“All right. 
Fine,” Kathryn acquiesced with a weary sigh.  “Brad’s out.  Mr. Tattooed Construction Worker is in.”

Ignoring her tart tone, Andy burst into a smile. 
“Thank you, Mom!”  She scooted her chair over to loop her arms around her mother’s shoulders.  “I love you.  And you’re going to love
him-
-I promise!”