The Smart One and the Pretty One (24 page)

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Authors: Claire Lazebnik

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BOOK: The Smart One and the Pretty One
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“I’m ready,” she said, bursting back into the other room. “Let’s go. I’ll see you later, A.”

“I’ll probably be asleep when you get back,” Ava said. “I’m pretty tired.”

“I’ll try not to make too much noise.”

“Thanks. Have fun, guys.”

“Good night,” Daniel said.

“Night.” She looked at Lauren and their eyes met briefly. Ava gave a minute shrug that said,
The jury’s still out on this guy
.

At least she hadn’t immediately written him off, Lauren thought as she followed Daniel out the door. Lord knew there had been plenty of times in the past when a roll of the eyes from one sister to the other conveyed a clear
Get rid of this jerk
.

In the elevator, Lauren said, “So what did your mother need to talk to you and your brother about?”

Daniel stared at the elevator wall over her shoulder. “I don’t know. Stuff.” Then, heavily: “She doesn’t have a will. Never got around to it. So she wanted us to write some things down.”

“My sister’s a trusts and estates lawyer, you know,” Lauren said. “If you need something drawn up, she could get it done quickly.” Then, realizing the implication of that, she said, “I mean, if you want to get it settled while your brother’s still in town.”

He looked down at his hands, spreading the fingers out as if he were trying to locate something he’d lost between them. “It’s okay. We’ll work it out.”

“You sure?” Lauren said. “She’d be happy to help.”

He gestured impatiently. “I’m too hungry to think about this stuff anymore right now. I need a break from it all.”

“Okay,” Lauren said. “But you can come back up to the apartment after dinner and ask Ava any questions you might have.”

“She said she’d probably be asleep.”

“Then we’ll just have to find something else to do up there.”

For the first time that night, he looked her right in the eyes. He even smiled. He said, “Yeah, all right. I’ll come back up.”

The elevator doors opened and Lauren led the way out with a sudden exuberance.

They started with margaritas on the rocks, made with real lime, not mixer, and by the time Daniel’s tacos came, they were both slightly buzzed.

It was the first time Lauren had seen Daniel drink enough for it to affect him, and she was amazed at the transformation. He relaxed visibly: his face lost its tight, defensive look and even his limbs seemed suddenly looser, as he sprawled out in the chair opposite her. She felt his leg touch hers and waited for him to realize it and move it, but he left it there and the spot on her calf where they were touching soon grew pleasurably warm. He laughed more easily too, and actually told her some stories about his family. He described the spartan existence his brother maintained in Costa Rica and how when he, Daniel, had visited there, he had spent most of his time trying to find an Internet connection. “Matthew said he had chosen that life just so he could escape from things like the Internet,” Daniel said. “And I said that as far as I was concerned, it’s not a life worth living if you don’t have e-mail and Google.”

“So what did he say to that?” Lauren slid down a little in her chair, which meant her thigh was now rubbing against Daniel’s knee. She was fairly certain he was pressing deliberately against her, but it was hard to tell: the table was small and there wasn’t all that much room under it.
She
of course was deliberately pressing against him. But that was her.

“He just kept saying I had to learn to relax. Which is impossible to do in Costa Rica, by the way, if you like coffee at all. The coffee there is phenomenal. I was averaging eight cups a day, which meant I was anything
but
relaxed.” He poked his straw into the margarita glass, searching out more liquid. He had pretty much finished his second one. “At one point, I heard a noise in a tree above me and was in such a caffeine-induced state of nervousness that I actually jumped high enough to hit my head on a branch. I ended up with a huge scratch over my eye. My brother laughed so hard he almost threw up.”

“What made the noise?”

“Howler monkeys,” Daniel said. “Turns out they really do howl.” He noisily sucked up the dregs of his drink.

“Does that mean that screech owls screech?”

“Yes.” He set the glass back down with an unnecessary thump that suggested his hand control had been somewhat compromised by the margaritas. “And fire ants build tiny little campfires.”

“Oh my God,” she said, opening her eyes wide. “You just made a cute joke. I didn’t think you were capable of that.”

“I’m not. I can’t believe I said that either. I must not be myself tonight.”

“So who are you?”

“I don’t know,” he said. “But it’s a relief to take a break from being me. Mind if I just forget about that Daniel guy for the rest of the evening?”

“Who, me?” Lauren said. “I’ve been hoping to ditch that loser for days.”

“I don’t blame you.” He pushed his plate away. “He’s a total downer.” He flicked at an errant tortilla chip crumb on the tablecloth. “I wish this
were
my life. Going out for good cheap food and strong drinks with a pretty girl who’s got an amazing smile. Nothing to worry about except paying the check when it comes. No sick mother, no life back in New York falling apart while I go crazy being stuck here. Just another L.A. surfer dude hanging loose.”

“Hanging loose?” Lauren repeated, raising her eyebrows and trying to ignore the pleasure his tossed-off compliment had given her.

He scowled at her and looked like himself again. “Whatever. You know what I mean.”

“Yeah,” she said, leaning forward and resting her chin on her hand. “So tell me: what does Surfer Boy do for kicks when he’s hanging loose?”

He met her eyes and answered the invitation in them. “He starts by getting the check.” He signaled to the waiter without taking his eyes off of hers.

She had thought his eyes were pure blue, but there was gray in them too, she realized now—a narrow band of gray circling the pupils that flickered with the light from the candle on the table between them.

On the walk back to the apartment, he reached out his arm and she came into its embrace. He pulled her tightly against his waist. They walked like that, pushing their hips against each other and stumbling a little, laughing at themselves, the night air cool but bright from the streetlights and full moon above.

In the elevator, he stood behind her and folded both his arms across her chest, resting his chin on her head. Looking sideways, she could see their reflections in the mirror-lined wall, but his face was in shadow so she couldn’t see his expression.

He released her when they stopped at their floor, and they walked out of the elevator separately, but he caught her hand in the hallway and held it against his stomach until they were at the door to the apartment. He let go so she could get out her key and let them in. She fumbled in her purse, hoping that for once she actually had her key and wouldn’t have to wake Ava up in order to get in. Luck was with her: her fingers touched metal and she pulled out the key with a quiet crow of triumph.

She unlocked the door and pushed it open and was relieved to see that the living room was dark and quiet and the door to the bedroom was shut tight, no light peeping out from underneath.

“Oh, good, my sister’s asleep,” she said. Then, realizing how teenaged that sounded, she laughed and said, “And my mom and dad are out of town until tomorrow, so we have the place all to ourselves, Scooter.”

“I bet you were just like that in high school,” he said, catching her around the waist again. “Always misbehaving behind your parents’ backs.”

“Still am.”

“I’m glad your sister’s asleep,” Daniel said and kicked the door shut behind them as he pulled her hard against him. He found her mouth quickly and the kiss went from tentative to intimate almost immediately. He bent over her, gently forcing her head back, making her throat curve until the part that was usually hidden under her chin became opened up and exposed, which made her feel vulnerable. That excited her. His hands moved from her waist up to her breasts, under her jacket but over the tank, which was tight and didn’t leave much to the imagination. Neither did the thin cotton bra she was wearing. The palm of his hand curved around her right breast and his thumb played with the hardened tip of her nipple through the cloth.

Lauren let out a quick, hard breath.

“You like that, huh?” he said.

“What do you like?” She put an inquiring hand between his legs.

“That’s a good start,” he said in a voice that was suddenly thick.

Their clothing got shed—or at least the pieces that were in the way did. At some point they moved over to the sofa. They were cramped there, and along with the good sensations of her flesh being touched by a warm mouth and eager fingers were less pleasant ones of her neck being strained and her calf knocking against the coffee table.

Daniel had a condom in his wallet. “I’m impressed,” Lauren said, watching him as he went to retrieve it, enjoying the shadowy sight of his almost naked body (he still had his shirt on), which was strong and in shape but in an athletic, healthy way, not with the overdone musculature of the narcissistic.

He looked over his shoulder at her. “It’s a Boy Scout thing. Always be prepared.”

“You’ll have to restock.”

“No rush,” he said. “This one’s been there for ten years.”

“Don’t tell me it’s been that long for you.”

“Since I’ve had a one-night stand, yeah.”

For a moment, the words nagged at her. Was that what this was?

He dropped the wallet back on top of his pants and turned around with the condom package pinched between his thumb and index finger. For a moment, he hesitated, his face almost invisible in the dim light, the outline of his shoulders tensely hunched forward.

“Put it on,” Lauren said, too aroused and drunk to think about things any more deeply. She held out her arms, arching her back a little, and he looked at the picture she made for a few seconds, then with a catch of his breath did as she ordered and came back to the sofa, where he covered her body with his in one swift motion.

He groaned loudly at one point and Lauren said, “Shh. Don’t wake her up!” and he whispered, “This
is
just like high school, isn’t it?”

“The good part,” she said, sliding the palms of her hands down his back and gently digging her nails into his ass. “The part where sex is new and exciting.”

He was too distracted to respond to that and pretty soon she was too, arching her back, rising up into his thrusts, and working hard to keep her own cries of pleasure reasonably quiet.

They both gave one last sigh as he shuddered into her, and then there was a moment where they didn’t make a noise at all or move, and then he raised himself on his arms and smiled down into her face.

“That was nice,” he said and pulled out of her.

“Yeah,” she said.

“Where’s the bathroom?”

“Oh shit,” she said. “It’s through Ava’s room. I’m sorry.”

“Think I’ll wake her up if I run through?”

“I don’t know. Probably not.”

Daniel rolled off of her and onto his feet. He was still wearing one sock, his shirt—partially unbuttoned—and the condom. Not an easy look to pull off, but Lauren felt she could happily have stared at his half-naked body forever. “I think I have to risk it,” he said. “What’s the worst thing that could happen?”

“She wakes up and sees you and screams and a neighbor calls the police and you get arrested for indecent exposure?”

“Okay,” he said, instinctively covering himself with his hands at just the thought. “What’s the second worst thing?”

“Here,” Lauren said, sitting up. “Let me go first and make sure she’s asleep.” She still wore the tank top, but her bra had been unhooked at some point and pushed up out of the way so her breasts were no longer actually contained within the cups. She wiggled it back into place under the tank and reached behind to hook it up again.

“It would be a nice world if men and women never wore pants,” Daniel said, studying her as frankly and admiringly as she had him.

“It would cut down on wars,” Lauren said, shifting her legs and bending them slightly to give him the most flattering view of them. “Don’t you think?”

“People would have to carry their own towels, though. Like in gyms. To put under them whenever they sat down.”

“Definitely. Personal towel usage would be key.” Her bra settled in place, she looked around. “Hmm. Where did my underpants go?”

He picked up her jeans and handed them to her. “They’re still in here.”

“You’re an animal,” she said and plucked them out, then pulled them on, twisting her body on the sofa as she maneuvered them up. She stood up. “Okay. Follow me.”

She led the way to Ava’s bedroom door. Daniel followed her, his pants clutched against his torso, covering his genitals. “You have a cute butt,” he said.

She waggled it a bit for his benefit. “Thank you.” She carefully turned the doorknob and pushed the door open a few inches. She peered into the room, which had just enough light coming in from the street to pick out the shapes of the furniture and reveal the doorway to the bathroom. She listened for a brief moment. Deep, regular breaths from Ava. Lauren gestured silently to Daniel to head toward the bathroom. He nodded and ran across the room, briefly mooning her before he was inside and the door was shut.

Lauren swiped a pair of sweatpants out of a drawer, very carefully sliding it open and closed so it wouldn’t make noise. She carried the pants back to the living room, where she pulled them on and turned on the lamp.

Daniel returned a few minutes later, fully dressed except for his shoes, which still lay on the living room floor. He was also still missing the one sock. He closed Ava’s door softly behind him. “That’s the girliest bathroom I’ve ever seen,” he said. “How many different kinds of hair products and lipstick can two women own?”

“Never enough,” Lauren said. She didn’t bother to point out that almost all of the beauty products were hers. Ava basically owned a bar of soap, some shampoo and conditioner, and a bottle of sunscreen.

Daniel picked his jacket up off the floor and extracted his cell phone from the pocket. He flipped it open and peered at the screen. “Good,” he said. “No messages.”

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