Complicated (2 page)

His smile widens. “Yeah, same. You seemed really cool. I mean, you still do.”
 

“So do you.”
 

He hands me a scrap of paper. “That’s my number. We should hang out sometime.”
 

“Yes. Absolutely.” I pull out my phone and type in his digits. I send him a text that says my name. His ringtone is a dragon’s roar.

“It’s from a video game.”
 

“Quest World.”
 

“Yeah.” He brightens. “You play?”
 

“Used to. I quit while I was in school. I miss it though.” New customers walk into the coffee shop. Nothing Lori can’t handle but I can’t spend my shift outside flirting. “I should go. I’m still on the clock.”

Zach says he’ll call me later and we’ll make plans, and I head back inside to finish my shift.
 

I drop the bag of fast food on the couch and sit down beside it. Katy sits up. I hand her a bottle of water.
 

“You are a goddess,” she says. Her voice is raspy, her makeup from last night is smeared down her cheeks, and her normally silky black hair is tangled. She drinks half of the water in one go. “I’m starting a religion. Hannahology.”
 

“I want stained glass depictions of my good deeds.” I dig out a carton of fries and squeeze a packet of ketchup into the corner. Katy finishes the water and then unwraps a burger. She takes a tentative bite.

“I’m so sorry about last night. I owe you.”

“Yes, you do.”
 

“But you saw Jamie, right? And get this. He’s training to become a firefighter.”
 

I crack a smile. “Well, then, I suppose you’re forgiven.”
 

“Tell me you had fun at least.”
 

I did, at least until it became painfully clear the show was never going to end.
 

David comes bounding down the stairs without a shirt on and his hair mussed from sleep. He’s tall and thin, like Katy, with the same silky black hair and beautiful blue eyes. He wears a pair green pajama pants that I’ve worn before while staying over. The combination of his bare chest and those pants stirs an ache inside me. I shouldn’t be surprised he’s just getting up even though it’s mid-afternoon. The band has to stay late to pack up their stuff, which means he didn’t get home until way after I did.
 

He smiles sheepishly when he spots me on the sofa.
 

“Playing nurse?” he asks.
 

Don’t you dare,
I think but I’m not sure whether I mean him or me. My thoughts hit the gutter anyhow and I clear my throat.
 

“Make coffee,” Katy pleas.
 

“Sure thing.” David walks off into the kitchen. Katy gives me a side eye.

“I thought you didn’t like him anymore.”
 

Oh, I like him. At in that moment, I’m pretty sure I’d happily join him in the shower if he asked. “It’s not that. I’m just tired of it not going anywhere. He doesn’t ‘do girlfriends,’ remember?”
 

I eat most of my fries and then set the container on the coffee table. Katy chugs more water and finishes her burger. David brings her a mug of coffee with so much milk it’s a pale tan color.
 

“Hey, so, I was wondering if you’d do me a favor,” David says to me, running his fingers through his dark hair. “We have another gig next month
 
and we need a kick ass poster.”
 

It’s not fair that he asks while I can see the taught muscles of his stomach and chest. His almond-eyes are seductive enough when he’s clothed. “Okay. Email me the details.”
 

He moves forward, like he’s going to bend down and kiss me, but he stops himself. “Cool. You’re the best, Hannah.”
 

“Darn right.” If only he really believed that.
 

By the time we retrieve Katy’s car from the club, it’s early evening. She talks me into staying at their house for dinner. The whole band is coming over for a post-show barbecue. I know I shouldn’t spend more time around David if I really want to stick to my guns about not being his sex-buddy but it’s hard to resist, especially after seeing him this morning.
 

The sun has poked through the clouds, though, and it’s too nice a day to spend it inside.
 

Besides, my roommate Trish is currently in her last quarter of fashion design school and all shared spaces of our apartment are covered in fabric and pattern paper, with sewing pins scattered around like land mines. I’ve gotten one in my foot, my butt, and even my arm over the past few days.
 

Plus, I have tomorrow off so I can actually stay out late—not stay over, I remind myself—without any problem.
 

David stands on the porch working the grill. He’s wearing a blue t-shirt with a cartoon cat on it and jeans. He’s impossibly good looking. I stand in the kitchen watching him through the window and then close my eyes. He doesn’t want a girlfriend. He’s made that clear. If I keep hooking up with him, I will be single forever.

“Want a pina colada?” Brian asks. He’s the band’s bassist. He washes the blender pitcher with a sponge and nods to a bottle of coconut rum.
 

“Sure. That sounds good.”

“I wanted to do a luau themed party but Katy vetoed me.”

“Maybe next week,” I suggest. Brian smiles.

He mixes the slushy concoction and pours it into plastic cups. “I don’t have little umbrellas,” he says, handing me one.

“That’s okay.” I take a sip. It tastes like coconut with a hint of pineapple. I can’t taste the booze in it. “It’s good.”

Mike arrives with his girlfriend Alice, who wears black lace and dark makeup, and looks amazing. I admire people who can pull off the goth look. I think of Zach.
 

Ray and his boyfriend Dennis arrive immediately after.
 

Everyone goes out to the porch since it’s one of the first evenings this year that’s warm enough for short sleeves even as the sun goes down. There’s a cooler with beer and cans of soda, and Brian keeps refilling everyone’s cups with his frozen cocktail. The guys discuss their upcoming show and David informs them I’m making the poster.
 

“I have the best photos of our show in Portland,” Brian tells me. “I’ll get them to Dave for you.”
 

After a second round of too-sweet pina coladas, I visit the bathroom. As I’m washing my hands, I glance at my reflection in the mirror. I don’t see a pale girl with frizzy red hair. I see someone pretty. Someone who’s desirable, whose nose isn’t weird and whose freckles don’t stand out like bad acne. It has to be the booze, seeing myself this way. I feel strong, sexy.
 

I stop in the kitchen to get a glass of water. David is standing at the fridge, digging around for something. “I swear we had sauerkraut.”
 

I make a face and he smiles.
 

“It’s good on bratwurst.”

“If you say so.” I get a glass and fill it at the sink. “Brian sure makes a strong cocktail.”

“Yes, he does.” David shuts the fridge and turns. Our eyes lock. And then his gaze roams over me. I’m still in my hideous work clothes but when he looks back up, his crooked smile says he doesn’t mind. “You look pretty today.”

“I’m not even wearing makeup.”

“You don’t need it.” He steps closer. “You never need it.”

“Don’t.” I turn away from him, toward the sink. He puts his hands on my hips. I don’t pull away. I can feel his warm breath on the back of my neck.

I watch everyone on the porch laughing and talking. Someone found a football and Ray is tossing it up and down and faking throws at Mike, who’s shaking his head like he can’t believe what a dork his friend is.

“Don’t what?” David whispers.

“David.”

“Mmm.” His lips caress my neck. He wraps his arms around me. “Hannah.”

The way he says my name is too much, breathed out like it’s the only word in the world that matters.
 

You’re not my boyfriend, I want to say. Because you don’t want to be. You want the sex and the friendship without the commitment.

But I don’t say it because it feels so good to be pressed against his body, enclosed in his arms. We fit together so well.

“I think the sausages are done,” Brian calls. He smirks at us through the window. “Stop making out. I’m starving.”

David’s arms slide back and he steps away. He gives me a knowing smile, only I’m not sure exactly what it knows. That he has me wrapped around his finger? Because he does.
 

“Damn it,” I hiss to myself when he leaves. I refill my water glass and rejoin the group.

While we eat, Katy gushes about her fireman but the guys groan.

“What’s so great about firemen?” Brian asks. “I mean, sure, they save babies and kittens, but can they play bass left-handed?”

“I’d run into a burning building for a kitten,” Dennis says, wagging his eyebrows at Katy. Ray hits him playfully and tells him to stop being such a flirt.

 When things wind down and nearly everyone else has gone, Katy and I end up in the kitchen cleaning up. Their house rule that the person who doesn’t cook does the dishes, and after a short argument about whether grilling counts as cooking, we’re left with the plates while David and Brian disappear into the living room.
 

“This was fun,” I say, loading plates into the dishwasher.
 

“It was. I’m glad you came.” Katy pushes bottles and cans of unopened beer and sofa from the cooler. “I don’t want whatever happens between you guys to mess things up.”
 

“Nothing’s happening between us,” I say. “That’s the problem.”
 

Brian pokes his head in the kitchen. “Hey, Kate, I’m leaving. Thanks for playing hostess with mostess.”

“You are not driving,” I say. Brian drank more pina coladas than anyone, or so it would seem. Hard to count when your glass never quite empties.
 

“Cab is out front. Want to split it? We’re going in the same direction.”

And there’s my chance to leave before I do something I’ll regret. I should say yes but my head shakes of its own accord, clearly not listening to my brain. “I’m good.”

“All right, then.” He winks at me. “Good night, ladies.”

Katy jabs me in the side with her elbow.
 

David’s in the living room, lounging on the sofa and watching some weird science fiction murder mystery show. Katy yawns and says she’s going to bed. I give her the “traitor” look but really, we both know I’m not still here for her.

I sit next to David, leaving a cushion between us.
 

“You’re staying.” It’s not a question.

“For a while.”

His smile widens. “I like it when you play coy.”

“David. We should talk.”

He raises his eyebrows but turns off the television. “Should we?”

I swallow the small lump that’s forming in my throat. “Yeah.” I’m such a wimp. I need to tell him that I can’t keep doing this but when I’m faced with those smoldering blue eyes, the words die in my mouth.
 

 
He scoots over so we’re close. His jeans brush against mine and he leans in. His fingers languidly trace the curve of my cheek.

 
“I’d rather kiss than talk.” He puts his lips to mine. At first I resist but only for a millisecond. His mouth is warm and hot, his kiss fierce and intense. He pulls back slightly. Our faces are so close. His voice is a soft breath on my skin. “See? Much better than talking.”
 

I kiss him again. He’s right. It is better than talking, especially when the words will put an end to this.
 

He stands up and takes me hand. “Come on.” The words are so delicate they brush over me like a gentle breeze.
 

David leads me to the stairs. We stop to kiss again every few steps until we reach the top. Then we quietly make our way to his room at the end of the hall.

He shuts the door and pulls off his shirt. I tug at the waistband of his jeans. He undoes my slacks. I step out of them and rip off my ugly work polo. At least I wore a lacy bra, I think vaguely as his hands smooth over the fabric to find the clasp.
 

I sit on the bed and he pushes me back, climbing on top of me.
 

“You are so sexy,” he murmurs. His deft fingers trace my hips. He tugs at my underwear and then slides it off. And then his breath is against my neck. His skin is on fire. Pressed against mine, I want that flame to engulf me. He kisses me again, desperate and hungry.

“David.” I gasp the name, hands on his chest, as if I could really push him away. But then I slide my palms to his sides and pull him down closer. He makes a noise not unlike a growl and presses his mouth to mine again.

Thought turns to need and then there’s nothing but our bodies moving together.

 When I wake up beside David the next morning, I don’t regret it. How can I, when being with him is so wonderful? When he makes me feel alive and important and beautiful and wanted.
 

He sleeps with his mouth slightly open, snoring softly. Like this, he looks innocent and sweet, not like the passionate, burning lover he was last night. A thought flits through my brain but I won’t let it land, because it uses the “L” word and that’s not what this is.
 

This is just sex. Really, really good sex with a very hot man, but nothing more. He doesn’t want more. And if I don’t get over him, this burning infatuation will turn me to ash.
 

His alarm clock tells me it’s after nine so I crawl out of bed quietly and gather my clothes. I put on my bra and panties, which were not easy to find. They’d been flung under the dresser. I’m tugging on my jeans when David says, “Good morning.”
 

“Hey,” I say. I turn away and slip on my polo.
 

“How’d you sleep?”

“Fine. You?”