Just Be Her Read online

  I didn’t think, didn’t worry about the consequences, didn’t consider what it all meant. I just leaned up and pressed my lips to his.

  He returned the kiss eagerly, sighing. His lips were so fucking soft, and he tasted like whiskey and something sweet. It started out slow, tentative, but built in intensity as fast as the band whipped the crowd into a frenzy. His tongue licked at my lips, and I opened for him, and then the kiss was desperate, needy. Definitely not appropriate for a public place. But I wasn’t in the bar anymore—I couldn’t hear the loud band or see all the people. There was only Oren, his tongue exploring my mouth, his strong arms holding me, his growing arousal pressing into my belly as I struggled to breathe through my nose.

  I’d never been this turned on from a single kiss before. My body was responding to his like a ship in a stormy night weaving around the beam of a lighthouse, and the pressure between my legs was almost unbearable.

  A drunk chick lost her balance and bumped into us, and our surroundings crashed back into my consciousness. Oren and I pulled apart, panting.

  We stayed for another few minutes, dancing slowly to a fast beat, and then he called the driver to pick us up.

  Like on the way to dinner, we didn’t speak the whole way back to the house. But when he extended his hand, placing it palm up on the leather between us, I took it. We held hands all the way back as reality crashed into me, every mile bringing the clusterfuck I’d just created into clearer focus.

  In the stark lighting of the foyer, I told him I’d had an amazing time and meant it. Then I went to my own room and closed the door firmly.

  …

  T: Hey, why are you really doing this sham marriage thing? I know you’re in debt and all that, but is it really worth it?

  A: Short answer? Yes.

  T: Long answer?

  A: LOL. Can’t really fit it into a txt.

  T: Fair enough.

  A: It’s like . . .

  A: What’s really important to you? Like, the one thing that drives you?

  T: Honestly? I don’t know. Nothing?

  T: I used to have goals. But then my parents died and everything kinda fell apart. I haven’t thought about what’s really important to me in a long time.

  A: I can understand that.

  T: Shit! I can’t believe I told you that. I haven’t talked to anyone about that.

  A: Who am I gonna tell? I’ve told you things I haven’t admitted to anyone else too. I think there’s something comforting about knowing that the person you’re telling secrets to isn’t invested in the effects.

  T: Yeah, I guess.

  A: Anyway, my point is—the thing that drives me is my dad. The most important thing to me is making sure I keep our family legacy alive. A lot of people are relying on me, and I need to prove to them and myself that I can do this.

  T: You and Oren have more in common than you know. He’s driven like that too. In a good way.

  A: Oh ok. That’s good :)

  T: Alex, I think your dad would be proud of you. I mean, I didn’t know him, but how could he not?

  A: Wow . . .

  A: That’s really sweet, Toni. Thank you.

  T: xo

  Ten

  Alex

  After a bumpy first few nights, I started to make decent tips. I knew that money was still Toni’s, but I was working my ass off and gathered the courage to ask if I could use some of it to buy food and bus fares so I could get around. She told me I was a weirdo and could use the money for whatever I wanted, then reminded me she would be getting a massive payout when this was all over.

  With my conscience clear, I set out on an overcast day to explore more of the city. It was still warm, even with the fat clouds overhead threatening to burst. A perfect day for visiting a cemetery.

  I didn’t go to the most famous one, opting for one closer to the neighborhood that wouldn’t cost as much to get to. A few people were wandering around on the sidewalk outside, but as I passed under the arched wrought-iron gate, no one was in sight. I wandered up and down the rows, reading the ancient headstones, then hovered at the edges of the tail end of a tour and listened in.

  I managed to hear a bit about the fascinating history of burials in this part of the world, how the city is around one to two feet below sea level, and every time it flooded, dead bodies would come floating up. Eventually, they decided to start laying their dead to rest above ground.

  The tour moved off, and I turned in the opposite direction and started making my way back to the gates, taking a different path. As I rounded the corner of a mausoleum that boasted dates from several hundred years ago but looked pristine, I jerked to a stop.

  The gates were only a few rows away, but what arrested me was Ren. He was sitting cross-legged and leaning back against a raised grave, notebook and pen in hand, his focus on the page.

  “What are you doing here?” I demanded. For some reason, I immediately wondered if he’d followed me.

  His head snapped up, brow creasing in confusion before his expression turned to pure annoyance. “It’s a public fucking place,” he grumbled. “What are you doing here?”

  I crossed my arms but let some of the suspicion go. He seemed genuinely surprised to see me. “I’m exploring.”

  “Playing tourist in your own city?”

  “Something like that.” More like being an actual tourist in a place that was new to me, but whatever.

  I had my answer. He had his. Logically, it was time for me to leave, but I couldn’t seem to make my feet move—couldn’t seem to stop staring at his piercings or trying to get a better look at the tattoos peeking out from under his gray T-shirt.

  He uncrossed his legs and lifted his knees, resting his arms on them as he cocked his head.

  The silence between us was beginning to get awkward, so I filled it, my years of practice making small talk in polite society kicking in. “It’s a beautiful place.” I cast my eyes over the cemetery. “So full of history.”

  “Yeah. People get creeped out by cemeteries, but death is just a part of life.” He shrugged, his gaze wandering over the rows of dead. “There are so many stories here. It’s inspiring.”

  All my polite small talk skills went out the window, and I blurted, “You come to the cemetery to write lyrics? I didn’t think you were that cliché.” I didn’t mean for it to sound so condescending, so judgmental. I was actually trying to work my way up to telling him his music was unique and mesmerizing.

  His gaze flicked back to me, his lips pressing together as he stood to his full height. He stuffed his notebook and pen into the back pocket of his ripped jeans and stepped into my space, looming over me.

  I looked up at him and tried to explain. “I’m just—”

  “I come here,” he said, cutting me off, “because I run tours like the one you sneakily listened in on. Playing gigs doesn’t quite cover the bills, so I supplement my income by doing this. Just in case I wasn’t enough of a struggling artist cliché for you. And yes, I write lyrics between tours because I need every spare minute I can find to work on my music.”

  Before I had a chance to respond, he turned on his heel and stalked away, walking straight to the gates and up to a group of people. As he led them past, starting the tour, he didn’t even spare me a glance.

  I sighed, my shoulders sagging in defeat. I’d managed to say all the wrong things while trying to say the right ones, and I felt like shit.

  As I walked to the bus station, I found myself thinking less about the antagonistic way he always spoke to me and more about how he said he’d seen me listening in on the tour. Had he been watching me the whole time?

  I also couldn’t stop thinking about how good his butt looked in those jeans and how good it felt to have his gaze on my body as I touched myself. I wriggled in my seat on the bus and tried to think about something else as fat drops of rain started to hit the window. I hoped Ren had an umbrella with him.

  Later that afternoon, Dennis and I carried case after case of beer u
p to restock the fridges while Loretta prepared the grill. We finished mopping the floors just as she finished making us all juicy cheeseburgers.

  As we lined up on stools at the bar to eat, I thought about how to bring up the situation with Ren. I couldn’t exactly say, “Hey, do you guys know why we hate each other?” So I decided to keep it simple and hope the conversation naturally flowed in that direction.

  “Who’s playing tonight?” I asked before taking a big bite.

  “Isn’t it Thousand Lies?” Dennis mumbled around a mouthful of chips. I knew full well it was them.

  “You better behave, sugar.” Loretta raised her gaudily made-up eyebrows at me and wagged a skinny finger. “Andre doesn’t need any more drama from you two.”

  I threw my hands up in surrender but didn’t say anything. When Loretta narrowed her eyes at me, I rolled mine, channeling Toni.

  “What is it with you two?” Dennis asked, and I remembered he’d only been working there for a few months.

  “Ask him,” I grumbled, hoping my answer was cryptic enough to imply I knew the reason but wasn’t willing to talk about it.

  “All that tension, I’m surprised you two haven’t fucked yet.” Dennis laughed, and I choked on my burger, spluttering and having to wash it down with soda.

  Loretta swatted the young man on the back of the head but laughed at the same time, the sound something between a cough and a cackle. It was infectious, and we all had a laugh.

  But apparently Dennis was not done stirring shit. “Never mind what’s between you and Ren—you’ll either fuck each other or kill each other. I wanna know what’s going on between Ren and Andre.”

  “What do you mean?” These weren’t exactly the answers I was hoping for, but I’d take any insight I could get into the asshole who’d watched me masturbate in a dirty men’s room and the sweet man who sometimes looked at me as if he wanted to say more, see more, do more.

  “You can’t tell me you haven’t noticed how close they are, or that you don’t know shit about it.” He turned an incredulous look to me. “You’ve been working here for years. You live here!”

  Loretta saved me from having to stumble through that answer. “Haven’t you learned by now that Toni keeps to herself? She doesn’t know shit.”

  “But you do.” It wasn’t a question. Dennis’s focus was now on the older woman, his face full of expectation.

  “I know everything about everything, sugar. But I ain’t no gossip!”

  Dennis and I both laughed. I’d only been around for a few short weeks, and it was plain to see Loretta was as big a gossip as you could get.

  She cackled again, and Dennis asked, “So are they together or what? Just keeping it on the DL to be professional and shit?”

  “Andre and Ren ain’t together together,” Loretta said when she was done coughing. “They get together, but I don’t see them moving in together anytime soon.”

  “So it’s just a casual sex thing?” I blurted.

  “Hell no. Those boys take care of each other like family. And before you ask, no, I don’t know what the deal is any more than that,” she said, sounding a little put out by the fact that she couldn’t tell us more.

  “So they’re gay?” Dennis asked, gathering our empty plates and depositing them on the servery window. “I swear I’ve seen Ren leave with chicks, and Andre has that nudie calendar in his office.”

  “Look at him.” Loretta crossed her bony arms and leaned her elbows on the bar. “Thinkin’ he’s some kinda sleuth.”

  Dennis rolled his eyes but smiled at her. “So maybe they’re both bi then?”

  “Who gives a shit?” Loretta got down off her stool with a groan, and I resisted the urge to offer her a helping hand. I had a feeling she’d bite it off. “It don’t matter what’s between your legs.” She waved a hand in front of her crotch, then pressed it to her chest. “All that matters is what’s in your soul. You don’t fall in love with a penis or a vagina. You fall in love with a person. And one of the people we’re talking about is your boss, so you better get that tight ass of yours back to work. You too.” She pointed at me and disappeared into the kitchen.

  Dennis watched her go, then turned to me. “I don’t know. I can think of a penis or two I could fall in love with.”

  We cracked up laughing, and I nearly fell off my stool.

  I didn’t know, or care, any more than Loretta which way Andre or Ren swung, but I found myself hoping they’d both swing in my direction.

  I got up, pulled Toni’s ridiculously tight shorts out of my crotch, and got back to work. But as the night wore on, I couldn’t get that wayward thought out of my mind.

  Hoping they’d both swing in my direction had turned to fantasizing about it. I wondered what that piercing through the head of Ren’s cock would feel like against my tongue. I wondered what Andre’s big hands would feel like gripping my thighs as he pushed them open. I wondered what it would feel like to be sandwiched between them.

  Sometime around three in the morning, I pushed up the bolt on the front door to the bar and sighed. Usually Andre did the final close, but he’d been distracted all night. Once the other staff had headed home, he’d emptied the till and disappeared, yelling over his shoulder, “You good to lock up?” He hadn’t even given me the chance to answer before I heard the thud of his boots on the stairs.

  I turned out the lights and dragged my tired ass up a mere minute or two behind him. But as I neared the top, I froze. My hand tightened on the timber railing as my eyes greedily drank in the sight before me.

  Andre and Ren were kissing—passionate, hands-all-over-each-other, pushed-up-against-the-wall kissing.

  All the things I’d been fantasizing about all night slammed into me, and heat pooled between my legs as my mouth dropped open.

  Before I could register I was being a creep just standing there and watching them make out, Andre got the door to his apartment open and dragged Ren away from the wall with a firm grip on his belt. They didn’t break the kiss as Andre shoved him inside.

  Just before they disappeared into the apartment, Ren opened his eyes. His gaze held mine for one charged moment, and then they were gone, the door slamming shut with a rattle.

  The noise finally pushed me out of my daze, and I rushed up the last few stairs to my door, let myself in, and leaned back against it.

  He would’ve seen the pure lust in my eyes. After that incident in the bathroom, he would’ve known exactly what my horny face looked like. I resisted the urge to creep across the hall and press my ear to Andre’s door. But there was no need anyway. As I stood there in the dark, moans reached my ears. Deep, guttural, manly sounds that traveled through my body and shot straight to the spot between my thighs.

  I bit my lower lip and freed myself from the ridiculous shorts. I didn’t think about how wrong it was to listen in on such an intimate moment, how creepy it was to touch myself while thinking about what they were doing across the hall, imagining myself joining in.

  I just trailed my hand down, past the hem of my panties, and embraced the moment.

  …

  A: Theoretically speaking, how do you just . . . like . . . sleep with someone.

  T: What the fuck are you talking about?

  A: I’m just curious about your life. And you’ve suggested that you sleep with a lot of people.

  T: Yeah? So?

  A: I’m not judging.

  T: Feels pretty judgy . . .

  A: No! I promise! I just want to know what it’s like to have that kind of freedom. I’ve never slept with someone I wasn’t in a relationship with.

  T: Haha! OK. Well, it’s not like there’s a trick to it or anything. If you find someone attractive, just go for it.

  A: I can’t believe I just told you all that! Sorry. Overshare.

  T: It wasn’t. If you can’t talk to your body double about sex positivity, are you even doppelgangers?

  A: Hahahaha! I’m still a bit embarrassed.

  T: OK, fine. I’ll share to
o. I’ve never slept with someone while in a relationship. Except for my first boyfriend, who I lost my V-card to in high school.

  A: What was his name?

  T: Brian. Stop deflecting. You wanna bang someone?

  A: Maybe . . .

  T: Girl, isn’t this the point of this whole exercise? Go have some fun. Sow your oats before you get hitched.

  A: Women don’t really have oats to sow.

  T: Whatever! Go get laid!

  A: Yes, ma’am!

  Eleven

  Toni

  I’d never felt bad about sex, never resisted my attraction to someone or felt dirty after a one-night stand. But then I’d never had anyone else’s feelings to consider. Ugh! Feelings. This was why I kept my shit to myself.