Finding Alana (7 page)

I’m quiet when I respond, “Yeah. I know.”

“He must be amazingly hot to tie you up in knots like this. Wait! Does he want to tie you up? Is that the problem?”

“Rhae! Where do you come up with this shit? No. He hasn’t offered to tie me up.”

Her laughter is comforting. “I was kidding. You sounded like you were getting all contemplative and sad over there. Just shaking you up. So what’s the problem?”

I proceed to tell her about our drunken encounter, how I made a trip to see Irma, and Irma’s advice about trying to trust someone.

Which only brought us around to the elephant in the room. “What made you so weary of trusting men?” Rhae asks. Perceptive as always. Practice makes perfect. So for the third time this week, I’m telling someone my long-held secret, and then I fill her in on what happened yesterday when I saw Kent on the street.

“Did you tell anyone you saw Kent?”

“No. I have everyone convinced I’m okay.”

“First thing you need to do is make someone aware that he’s close. What if he saw you? Things could get ugly fast. Promise me you will tell someone. Don’t be a statistic because you’re dumb. Secondly, you did the right thing by talking to Irma. She knows things about how to put broken lives back together. Trust me on this one, sweetie. So what now? Are you going to tell him?”

“I already did,” my answer is quick. “I haven’t seen him since. I think he’s weirded out. As I expected.”

“What was it you once said to me? Let him decide for himself if he wants to be with you? Maybe he’s weirded out in the ‘I need to deal’ way. Not the ‘I’m running far away from crazy’ way.”

I close my eyes. “I may have said that once. Clearly, you took advice from someone who’s read too many quotes on the Internet. I have no idea what I’m talking about.”

She laughs. “I think you do.

“I love you! Give Cade a hug for me. You know, you took that a lot better than I thought you would. You didn’t freak out or anything.”

“Honey, when you live through the shit I have, nothing is that shocking. Not to mention, I’ve known you after it happened. You are doing great, honey. If I knew you to be neurotic or angry, I might be concerned you need help. But you’re good! I love you, too! I might be making a visit up to see Irma, Melody, and the baby soon.”

“Let me know when and we’ll do something.”

With that, we disconnect the call. Feeling a little better, I decide to text Justin. Honesty is what I need to try with him. I open our text conversation. “
This is going to be a long text. I could never say any of this looking into your amazing eyes. You cast a spell on me when I look at you. Anyway, what I need to say is I’m terrified of what I told you. I think you are freaking out and you want nothing else to do with me.”

When I finish typing, I don’t even go back over it to make sure it makes sense. If I do that, I’ll talk myself out of sending it. I click send instantly after I finish. The feeling I have now is not as much apprehension as it is predestination. If he writes me back, it will be a goodbye. I know this, and I’m okay with it. I lay back on the bed and tuck my phone under my pillow. I close my eyes and attempt to get some desperately needed sleep to reset my brain. Emotions are totally useless.



When the afternoon sun is starting to warm up my room, Kate comes in with coffee. “Wake up! I made you coffee. Get up and hang out with me.”

I smile and turn my face into the pillow. “I can’t believe I actually fell asleep. What are we eating?”

“Get your ass up and let’s talk about it,” she starts. “We need to go to the store.”

Sitting up, I take the coffee from her and drink it. “Mmmm, thanks so much. This is amazing. Let me put some clothes on and we can go. I assume we’re going for full-out funky today?”

“You assume correctly. We are going to be as funky as possible because we have no one to impress.”

I take another drink of coffee. “And I assume we are also going for full-on junk mode with food?”

“Abso-fucking-lutely,” she answers smugly.

I nod. “Fair enough. I’ll be out in ten minutes.”

Curiosity is killing me. I need to know if Justin responded. I take a deep breath before looking at the screen. The plan is to do this like a Band-aid; rip it off quick. I’m pleasantly surprised he responded. I unlock my phone and pull up messages.

His response is simple, “
I’m glad you trusted me. I’m freaked out, but not for the reasons you think. Can I see you tonight?”

Unsure of what to say, I decide I’ll deal with him later. Today is about spending time with Kate and getting our heads together. She needs this more than I do. I put my hair up in a messy bun, throw on some yoga pants, flip flops, and a T-shirt.

On my way out of my room, I grab a black hoodie. Kate is waiting on the couch, dressed as my twin. We both laugh, and congratulate each other on the bun game we are both rocking.

“Bun game bigger than your future,” she says sarcastically.

“You know this,” I agree.

Kate drives and we raid the grocery store like a couple of teenagers. We settle on a Crockpot of rotel dip, chicken nuggets, macaroni & cheese, and some chips. We also swing through the frozen section and pick out a quart of ice cream for each of us. I grab some Rocky Road, she opts for Neapolitan. All set to gain fifteen pounds today, we check out, and go home. We pick a chick movie on Netflix and sit back with our pile of junk.

Halfway through the movie, my phone vibrates. I check and its Justin texting again. “
Are you okay?”

Puzzled, I text him back. “
I’m okay. Why?”

“
You didn’t reply to my last text, and I wanted to know you were good. So I guess that means you don’t want to keep working on this.”

“I never said that. I took a sick day from work to help Kate with something.”

“Are you saying we can work on it?”

“Of course we can,”
I answer.
“You know the worst there is to know about me.”

His answer nearly sends me into a tailspin. “
And it’s not so bad. Can I see you later tonight?”
I can’t focus on anything after I read it.

I sigh and smile at the phone. I’m nodding to myself when Kate notices I’m distracted and she pauses the movie. “Do you need to take that?”

Busted. “No. Sorry. I’m good. It was Justin again.”

“Wooooo, luva boi,” she whines.

I grin and blush at the same time as I text him back. “
Tomorrow night at seven.”

“Woah, that blush. You told him!” she exclaims.

I nod. “I did.”

“And!” she exclaims as she jumps to the edge of her seat.

I shrug. “And nothing. He was kind of in shock when I last saw him. He didn’t say anything. I thought for sure this whole thing was over. But apparently not. He wants to see me tonight.”

Kate is a sight to behold as she sits cross-legged on the couch bouncing up and down. “Do it, jerkface.”

“Jerkface? Really? I call in sick when I’m trying to get promoted, and you call me a jerkface! I don’t know about doing it, but I’ll see him tomorrow night. Tonight is all about us!”

She laughs and plays the movie. I watch in awe. It’s based on a bestselling romance series, and oh, my God, is it hot. This might be one of my new favorites. Kate is doing nothing but making fun of the serious, sexy faces the guy keeps making.

She has a point, it is hysterical! He looks on the verge of constipation. Not quite the look the director wanted, I’m sure. Still, when he put his hands on that woman, I feel like I have tunnel vision.
It’s been way too long

I never thought this week would end! It has been quite the rollercoaster. I’ve been in the clouds one minute, and in the gutter the next. Someone who doesn’t know me might think I was manic. I’m excited to see Justin tonight. He’s coming to my place since Kate has practice and setup for their bout tomorrow night. It’s a once a month thing, so everyone is required to help out.

Dee still hasn’t made her hiring decision, but I got a chance to size up my competition. Her resume was left on the printer. She’s my age, but she has a bachelor’s degree from U of M. My degree is just an Associates. She’s been working in the field for a development company her uncle owns. It seems a little silly to note that your uncle owns the company you work for on your resume.

I’m trying to break into development. My self-confidence is shaken, I can’t lie. I’m intimidated. I keep my nose to the grindstone, and try to keep the Dragon Lady happy. Looks like I may be with her a while longer. The thought is depressing.

Several times throughout the day I think the clock has broken. It has been an uphill battle reaching the end. I end up leaving fifteen minutes earlier than I normally do.

Friday’s are more relaxed around the office, and I’m actually excited about tonight. Dare I hope that this could be something? Something real.

While I’m driving home, all I can do is think about that night at the bar. My nerves are crawling under my skin in the most delicious way as I think about how he kissed me. How his hand explored my body. His skill evident by the way he’d made me feel exquisite.

I had felt beautiful, confident, and safe. Part of me can’t help but wonder how different it will be now that he knows. Does he even still want me? Tonight may be the end for us. The thought is chilling and depressing at the same time.

At home, I do a quick clean up. I start the dishwasher, wipe down all the counters, tidy the living room, and turn on my fragranced wax burner. Cinnamon puts me in the mood for the upcoming holidays. Plus, it smells like baking. I laugh when I remember the movie
Clueless
. It was one of her tips for seducing a boy: put something in the oven so it smells like you’re baking. They love it! Oh, the things I think of at all the wrong times. When I finish cleaning the bathroom and making my bed, I hop in the shower.

After I blow-dry my hair, I dress in a long-sleeve, black T-shirt and a black maxi skirt. I don’t bother with shoes or makeup. He gets the full, real me tonight. I finish getting ready by clipping a long piece of my asymmetrical hair style back with a barrette. I look like a flashback to the nineties, and I enjoy the way that makes me feel.

I stare in the full-length mirror a little longer than necessary. The outfit I’ve chosen actually makes me look taller. Perhaps it’s just the weight of everything being lifted from my shoulders, but I think I even look stronger.

I’m startled when the doorbell rings. Fortifying my resolve, I answer to find Justin standing there in that leather jacket and trademark beanie. “Hi,” I say in greeting.

His smile is all I need to kill the nerves in my chest. “Hi,” he replies.

I return his smile with a timid one of my own. “Won’t you come in?” I stand back to allow him through the door.

“Don’t mind if I do. I brought a gift,” he says as he holds out a brown paper bag to me.

I take it and open the bag and take out the bottle of Sauvignon Blanc. “Thank you. This is actually my favorite kind of wine. Would you care for a glass?”

He nods. “I would, but first…” He steps closer to me, wrapping his arm around my waist. He pulls me closer to him and leans down, ever so cautiously. I push up on my toes to help close the distance. When we’re sharing our breaths, but not quite touching lips, he whispers, “Is this okay?”

My answer is breathless, “Yes.”

In that same moment, he kisses me. It’s tender and soft. He’s still asking permission with his lips. I can’t blame him because I’m the one that freaked out. I answer his unspoken question by sliding the tip of my tongue over his bottom lip. His lips part even more as he deepens the kiss. His other arm drops around my neck so he’s now wrapped around me from head to waist. All I can do is lean into him as I’m still holding the wine and can’t find any other way to steady myself as my knees weaken. His tongue caresses mine as we continue to build intensity and, at the same time, trust between us as we kiss.

He breaks from my mouth and rests his face in the crook of my neck. He breathes me in, and says, “God. I didn’t realize how much I could miss you in just a few days.”

The smile across my face is genuine. That kind of statement makes me happy. I bury my face in his jacket and say, “I know what you mean. How about that wine?”

“If you think that’s a good idea.”

I nod and pull against his arms. “I do. Have a seat. I’ll get some glasses.” When I try to step away from him, my knee buckles a little and I stumble.

He catches and steadies me. “Have you been drinking already?”

Feigning offense, I say, “Uh no. I don’t drink
all
the time.” I say as I make my way into the kitchen.

He unleashes that gorgeous laugh. “Yeah you do. I haven’t been around a non-drinking Alana yet.”

“True story,” I answer his taunting as I pull two stemless wineglasses from the cabinet over the sink. Returning to the living room I find him settled on the couch, no jacket, and smiling from ear to ear. “You’ll need to check that smile if you want to get through tonight.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because there’s a lot of ground to cover, and I can’t focus when you smile like that.”

He takes the corkscrew, wine, and glasses from me. Acting as my bartender again, he opens the wine and pouring a glass for each of us. “Maybe we don’t need to focus right now. There’ll be time for that. The biggest thing you need to know is I don’t plan on running for the hills.”

His words surprise me. I take a sip of wine. “Good to know.”

He smiles and says, “I know I freaked a little bit the other night. It wasn’t you; you need to know that.”

I agree and keep drinking. “Also good to know.” I give him a shy smile. “If it wasn’t me, was it you?”

He laughs. “Sort of. We can talk about it later.”

I frown. “I think I’d like to talk about it now. What happened to you for two days?”

He’s shifty when he answers, “I had some research to do. Called a friend of mine from back home to help out.”

“What? Why?” My mind spins as I start to become paranoid. “Who are you researching?”

“We’ll talk about it. I promise. I don’t want to talk about it right now. What I want is to enjoy an evening with you before we do. There’ll be plenty of time for us to talk through all of that.” He slides closer to me and takes my wine out of my hand. Setting it on the table, he shifts to face me, staring into my eyes.

After a moment, he kisses me again. I can’t help the way I fall into him. I feel like I’m sliding down a spiral slide as I kiss him back. He works a magic spell on me that I’m powerless against. It’s like breathing air for the first time, or stepping out into a spring day after a long winter—he’s refreshing and warming. I continue to fall. When we’re starved for air, he breaks the kiss and rests his forehead on mine. “Are you still okay with this? I don’t want to push you,” he whispers.

Standing, I hold my hand out to him. He hesitates before taking it. I lead him into my bedroom, and turn to lock the closed door behind us.

He clears his throat as he sits on the end of the bed. “You sure?”

I walk toward him as I nod. “Yep, but one thing,” I say. “This is not a commitment. It’s just…a thing. You know what I mean?”

“No strings. Understood.”

I step between his legs, invading his personal space. “Exactly. Not that I don’t want strings, but…”

Justin places his hands on my hips and looks up at me. “I know you’ve been through some really hard shit in your life. So you don’t want strings in case things get tough. I want you to know I’m not going anywhere. No matter what. I have my own condition, though.”

“Okay, what is it?” I ask.

He moves his hands up to my face, holding me in place so I’m forced to look in his eyes. Those achingly deep, knowing brown eyes. “You can’t run either. Don’t shut me out,” he says. “No matter what.”

I start to argue, but the energy rolling off of him makes me too weak to form that thought. “Okay,” I say.

“Okay,” he answers. “You know how you said I work a spell on you?”

“You do.”

“You have had me mesmerized since I laid eyes on you. You are all I can think about. I don’t want to scare you, but I haven’t been able to close my eyes without seeing you hovering over me that one night.”

Closing my eyes, I shake my head. “I know what you mean.”

Standing, he pulls me to him in a tight embrace. Lowering his hands, he slides them over the curve of my hips down to my ass. I press my body into his as close as I possibly can. He’s kissing my neck and tugging on my earlobe with his mouth as his hands move back to my hips, then toward my stomach.

Moving my shirt out of the way, and finding the waistband of my skirt, he slides it down inch by inch. Once past my hips, it drops to the floor in a pool around my feet. I step out and kick it behind me. Standing before him in my underwear and a T-shirt, I’m all too aware of the sexual tension transitioning into anxiety.

I’m scared to let him see the scar again.
Again
. He’s seen it once already and he wasn’t scared of it. I take a deep breath as he slides my shirt up, just as slowly as when he removed my skirt. I close my eyes and swallow hard.

My shirt inches closer to my face, and I stand stock-still as he lifts it off over my head. My nerves get the better of me, and I start to shake. He wraps his arms around me, preventing me from moving away from him. Then he makes soothing sounds, “Shhh. I’ve got you. We don’t have to do anything.”

It’s almost alien when I hear myself say, “I want to; don’t stop.”

He begins to kiss me from that tiny, tender place behind my ear, down my jawline to my neck. I have to steady myself by holding on to his waist. His hands explore every inch of my body from shoulders to hips. He kisses trails between my breasts down to my bellybutton. When he reaches my stomach, he kisses a path toward the scar. With a hand on the scar on my back, he kisses the scar on my stomach. My anxiety begins to ease when he says, “This wasn’t your fault.” He kisses the scar over and over again. Between each one he says, “You’re amazing. You’re a survivor. You’re a fighter. You’re beautiful.” Each phrase makes me cry a bit more. Not tears of anxiety or pain, but tears of relief. As if I’ve been forgiven for something I had no control over.

I can’t resist any longer, and I tangle my fingers in his hair as I tug him away from my scar and back to my mouth. Salty tears fall on to our lips as I kiss him. He wipes my tears and saying, “Don’t cry.”

I help him out of his clothes as he finishes removing mine. Kissing him might be my new favorite thing to do. I only stop long enough to crawl on to the bed with him. I’m desperate for him. Desperate to correct that night when I lost my mind and ruined everything. When he wraps himself around me, I push him over so I can be on top. He adjusts so he’s posed to enter me. I kiss him, shifting my hips against him, and he responds by pushing into me. He makes me feel overly full, and causes an ache deep down. It’s an ache I haven’t felt in a very long time. He knows and allows me a moment to adjust to the feeling before starting to move.

He keeps his hands on my hips to steady me as he does. I’m lost in sensation. I moan with every movement. Sitting up to change the angle, his mouth captures my right nipple. He tugs, and a delicious searing ripple of pleasure moves through me. My back arches as a tightening builds deep down. Justin unleashes a delicious torture by moving to my left nipple.

I hold his mouth to me by pulling on his hair. The tighter I hold, the more he thrusts his hips. He moves his hands from my hips to my waist, and then he rolls us so he’s on top of me. It all becomes too much as he repeatedly presses into me, and I cry out as an orgasm rips me apart. Soon, Justin follows me over the edge.

He’s kissing me when he does, and I take all of his pleasure. It fills me in all the broken and cracked places, connecting us in a more intimate way than I thought possible. He stills and rests between my legs with his head on my chest. I just hold him until the shaking between us subsides.

Neither of us wants to break the moment, but he shifts to spoon me from behind. His body heat is suffocating, and my mind is a jumbled mess. I want to move, but I’m afraid to let go.