Better Than Me (5 page)

“Just a second,” I whine.

Opening the door a crack, because all I have on is what I wore to bed,  I ask without looking who is there, “What do you...Davis?”  It’s Davis.  He smiles and rakes his killer green eyes over the portion of my body he can see through the crack. 

“Are you napping?”

“Obviously, the lights are out and I’m pretty sure my hair is a mess.”

“It looks fine to me,” he says in a throaty voice and pushes the door open
without asking if he can come in.  I step back as he closes it behind him.  He looks so handsome.  He’s cut his hair short.  When did he do that?  He’s not in his work clothes.  No, he’s sort of dressed up, black fitted button up with the sleeves rolled up showing his muscular forearms. Tighter than usual jeans.  He’s in my room.  Why am I not freaking out?

“You look beauti
ful when you are sleepy, Biz.” It’s like his warm deep voice is all over my body.  He’s so close to me, one hand on my hip, as he is sliding the back of his other hand down my face.  “So beautiful.”

I don’t want him to stop.
  Mmmm, keep touching me.  He’s pulling me closer. Right into him.  I’m still not talking.  This is surreal.

He leans in, h
is green, green delicious stare shifting from my eyes to my lips.  Is he going to kiss me?  If so, I‘m going to let him.  I push up on my toes to bring my lips closer.  So surreal.  I feel his firmness, all of it, pressed up against me.  So hot! 

It must be a dre…

And with that thought, I wake suddenly.  I am covered in a fine mist of sweat and I am touching my own face.
  My legs are pressed tightly against the pillow between them.

Whoa.  It was a dream.  A
very hot dream about Davis.

***

After several gulps of cold water and an even colder shower, I’ve finally pushed the dream about Davis somewhat out of my mind.  I’m probably just excited about tonight.  Though why I would dream about Davis like that instead of Jake is bothering me.  I already know Davis is off limits.  Maybe it’s my subconscious just trying to get him out of my system.  Hmmm.  It’s time to get ready to go out with Jake.  I do my make-up and fix my hair in the only way it will go.  It’s straight.  It never curls.  Even as a kid when my mom would give me a perm, it just went back to being straight.   Just as I am zipping up the back of my second open-toed bootie there is a light rap on the door. 

“Hey, it’s Jake.  Biz?  You ready?”

I open the door widely and put on my prettiest smile.

“Ta-Da.”

Jake takes in my outfit.  “Biz, you look great.  You do know this is a college keg party, right?”

“What, too much?”
I say, twirling slightly side to side.

“No, I just….No, you look great.”

“Well, thank you Mr. Gianni,” I tell him.  I am ruthlessly flirting and batting my eyes.  Honestly, feel a little silly, but I am trying to demonstrate some confidence.  I also might be feeling a little guilty for the Davis dream.

We drive to the party, which is in a part of town that is more eclectic than the suburb where Weldon is located.  There are funky little shops, bars and restaurants
, and musicians busking on the streets.  The party is in an apartment in a brownstone.  Jake tells me it is a musician friend that graduated last year who’s throwing the party.  Les or Wes or something like that.  Entering, with Jake holding my hand, I notice there are a lot more guys than girls here.  I hope Jake can’t sense the shakiness I am feeling.  I spot Charlie, Jules and Smitty over by a window looking out.  Jake tells me he is going to get us a beer.  I head over to my friends.  We discuss the view from the apartment, how you can see all the way down to the Mississippi River and the city’s unique skyline, that includes a certain famous Eero Saarinen monument.  It’s only a few minutes before Jake is back with a beer for both of us, in the ubiquitous red cups.  The teasing begins, as Charlie and Smitty inform Jake what a terrible drinker I am.  Terrible, because I cannot have more than two beers without becoming outrageously goofy.  Jake seems intrigued, nodding his head with a smile.

“Yeah, I think this
is probably it for me tonight,” I inform him, raising my red cup.

Jake mumbles something I can’t make out.   

Seeing that a group of couches in the center of the large living room has just been vacated, Jules and I pull the boys over to sit down.  Somehow the conversation turns and I realize the guys are playing the Who Would You Do? game.  The game pretty much involves naming a person and discussing if you would “do” them and why or why not.  I’ve played it before, but not since the beginning of junior year.  Not since IT happened.  Sitting between Jake and Jules, I do my best to act nonchalant about it.  It’s harmless, right? 

Jules starts.  “Would you do...”
she draws out the question, “Smitty?” and turns to Charlie.

Charlie replies, “No
,” as do Jules, Jake and I.  Smitty looks a little crushed, but then Suzette, who has approached our group, pipes in, “I’d consider it.”  Smitty perks up and pats the area between him and Jake for her to sit.  She flounces prettily over to them and in a giggly voice says, “Hi, boys.”  They don’t appear unhappy with attention.   Since Smitty was the last victim, it’s his turn to ask.

“Would you do…Biz?”

I hide my face in my hands and lean forward, “Oh, no.”

Jake puts his arm around me and begins pulling my hands away from my face. 

“I’ll answer that,” he says to everyone.  He turns and looks me in the eye and says, “Of course.”  Cheers and claps go up from my group of friends along with a few wolf whistles.  I just smile and bite my lip.

Charlie says, “No,” and winks at me.  We both know why and share a visual acknowledgement.
  We have a history.  Harmless, but still a history.  Jules doesn’t know.  Jules doesn’t notice our glances and I’m glad. 

To the question of “doing” me, Jules says, “Yes.”

“Thank you, girlfriend, right back at you.” 

Smitty dovetails onto  the conversation, “I wou
ld like to say that I would,  IF I could do Biz from the waist up and Jules from the waist down.  That would be heaven.”

Jules and I
in unison screech, “Eeeewwww.” 

The group is laughing loudly now.

“Oh my God, Smitty, what a perv.  Jesus, dude, are you drunk already?” Charlie scolds.

“Evidently…
but seriously, think about it.  That would be like the perfect chick.”  I am happy to hear no objections from the group.  Jules and I thonk our plastic cups together in a toast to one another.  I’ve already switched over to soda after about five sips of beer, since it looks like no one else is holding back and someone has to drive home.

Even though
it’s not her turn, Suzette interrupts the laughing and teasing with, “Would you do…Davis?”  She directs it at Jules. 
Shit.  I am not answering that question.  I’ve got to get away.
  I reach over and place my hand on Jake’s red cup.

“You want another?”

“That would be great, Bizzy,” he answers with a satisfied smile.  I see Smitty reach around Suzette to smack Jake on the arm and give him the up-nod and a smirk.  I quickly make my escape to the next room to get Jake another beer. 

Rounding the corner, I am stopped in my tracks by the sight of Davis.  It’s as if Suzette mentioning his name caused him to materialize here.  I hadn’t really thought of him since shaking off the dream, until she said his name.  He’s leaning against the archway near the keg, holding a beer.  He has his eyes closed and his head down.  I’ve never s
een him out of his blacks… the black clothes he wears in the theatre and every time I’ve ever seen him.  Except in the dream.  Tonight he’s wearing a red long sleeve Henley thermal shirt, low slung jeans, his usual black work boots and a very expensive looking watch.  Hmm, I never noticed that before.  The shirt clings to his upper body and I appreciate that he has the form of an upside down triangle.  Broad, straight shoulders that taper down to his slim waist.  The hum I feel whenever he’s near vibrates low in by belly and moves lower.  Aching almost.  I swear it increases the closer I move toward him.

I approach and touch his arm, which only heightens the feeling down there, “Davis?”

He looks up and opens his stunning eyes at the same time to look at me.  I can tell immediately he is already drunk.

“Lizzz-erd.”  he slurs.  “Lizzz-erd Breath…you’re here.”  With that he flings his arm over my shoulder and pulls me in for a squeeze. 

“Let me pump you,” he giggles at himself “...a beer.”

I’m pretty sure I blush. 
“Um. That’s okay, I’m just getting one for Jake.”

“Oh, serving him are we?  Nothing for you?”

“I’m good.  I switched to Diet Coke.  I’m the DD.”

Looking down at my breasts
, he teases with a growl, “You sure are.”

It takes me a second to get his meaning, “Da
vis, I meant Designated Driver,” I say, socking him on the bicep.  He has no reaction to the punch.  It sort of hurt my hand, his arm is so firm.

As he fills Jake’s cup for me, he informs m
e, “Well, that’s good because I am the Designated Drinker.”  He laughs again, gesturing to himself with the index finger of the hand that’s holding his beer.  Just so damn amused with himself.  And I laugh too, admitting to myself, he is sort of a charming drinker.

Davis follows me back into the living room to the group and is met with
sloppy drunken greetings from them all. A few more girls that I don’t know have joined the group.  Davis is the recipient of not a few kisses on the mouth and ‘friendly’ welcomes from the girls.  Plenty of bro-hugs and up-nods are exchanged with the guys.  He gives Suzette a hug and Jules an even bigger one along with a kiss on each cheek. 
Where’s my damn kiss?

“Hey, missing your girl, Davis?  Watch yourself, that one’s mine
.  There’s no shortage of babes here and you’ve never had any problem getting one before.”  Charlie laughs as he says it.  I know he’s not serious. 

Davis moves away from Jules with
a sort of jump, “Wazzn’ thinking. Sorry, man.  Just being friendly.”  He looks right at me, “Not looking for a babe.” 
Why is he looking at me when he says that?
  I am confused by how I am drawn to and annoyed with Davis simultaneously.

J
ules and Charlie both say to Davis, “It’s okay” and look at each other with knowing smiles.

Thankfully, the Who would you do?
game seems to be over.  Suzette informs Davis that everyone present said they would “do” him. 

“Everyone?”  He asks looking around the gro
up, but halts his gorgeous, slightly bloodshot eyes on me.

“Well, Biz went to get Jake’s beer, so she didn’t say, but the rest of the girls did…and Smitty.”  I think she is hitting on Davis. 
Back off, Suzette
. 

Smitty just nods and with an intoxicated grin yells across
the room, “You are a boootiful man, Davis.”  Drunk.  Great, now Smitty’s hitting on him too.

I haven’t had this much fun or laughed so much in a long, long time.  Anytime I get up to get a beer for Jake, Davis follows and fills his own cup.  He’s at the point where he has to put his hand on my shoulder to make it to the keg.  Jake has danced with me a few times, nuzzling his face into my
neck.  When he burps right on my neck while dancing, I decide it’s time to go home.  He agrees.  Charlie has already left to take Jules home.  She drank a lot.  I’m sure she’s already passed out in his bed.  I ask Davis how he got there.  He mumbles something about someone bringing him, but he thinks they left.  After securing the keys to Jake’s car, I drag the two intoxicated boys out of the apartment and pour them into the car.  They both sing to me, loudly the whole way home.  You haven’t lived until you experience an alcohol-fueled serenade of Wake Me Up Before You, Go Go.  I asked Davis repeatedly how to get to where he lives, but his directions don’t make any sense.  I’m tired and I don’t want to drive around trying to figure it out, so I take him back to the Weldon.  He can pass out there. 

There is no way I am going to get these two idiots up to Jake’s room by taking the stairs.  After stumbling
with an arm around each of their waists, into the front lobby, I squirm out from between them to punch the button to call the Disco elevator.   They are laughing so hard they can’t breathe and are leaning on one another for support.  Jake whispers something into Davis’ ear and looks at me. 

“Really?” Davis questions, frowns a bit, then glances at me and chuckles.
  I am equal parts annoyed with them for getting so drunk and tickled by their joy.  Together, they are a bit difficult to manage.  All the way home and on the way in, either one or both of them are speaking to me with their faces WAY too close to mine.  This must be what it smells like all the time when you work at a brewery. 

I get help from both of them to open the elevator doors.  I’m guessing it probably looks like a weird upright game of Twi
ster is happening.  I’m glad nobody is watching.  We get in and each one leans on an opposite wall.  I am standing in the middle, looking up, watching the numbers.  When we get to the second floor,  Jake walks out, then turns around, walks back in and kisses me soundly on the lips.