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She nods and smiles at me. It was always so easy to make her happy.
I hand her the pink drink, and she joins me, sitting down in the leather armchair across from mine.
Seeing her here, watching her cross her ankles, and the delicate way she brings the glass to her lips…it evokes all kinds of memories.
Our relationship had never been romantic—we were friends—best friends. But when I lost my mom tragically in an auto accident at age fourteen, it was Mia who was there for me. It was Mia who I wanted. For days I couldn’t eat, wouldn’t talk to anyone, not even my brothers. I remember Mia holding me with my head against her chest. I listened to her heartbeat while she stroked my hair and told me silly little stories to distract me. The pain was so all-encompassing, so deep, I didn’t know how to put it into words. But Mia didn’t need words. She knew.
It was after one of those sessions that we shared our first kiss. It felt natural with none of the fumbling, over-zealous tongue attacks that some of my previous partners had. I’d instantly grown hard for my friend, and that confused the shit out of me. I’d never seen her as more until that moment. But something changed that night, because from that day on, I began noticing her as a developing woman. I would catch her watching me too, her eyes following me around the room with a certain curiosity twinkling in their green depths.
It was about a year after my mom’s passing when she told me she had something important to tell me, and we agreed to meet late one night out on my dad’s boat.
It sat in its slip at the dock, and while there was no sign of Mia, I climbed below deck, surprised to find she was already there waiting for me on the pullout bed. I crawled up beside her, the moon our only source of light. With a solemn expression, she told me that her parents were moving across the state, and that they couldn’t afford to send her to private school anymore.
I remember my stomach twisting into a knot, and pulling her close to me. I couldn’t stand the idea of her leaving. Needing to fix it, to take away Mia’s tears, I’d called my father on his cell phone right then. I asked him about paying for her schooling so she could remain at Linden Academy, but he’d blown me off. He said there would be other girls and I shouldn’t give my heart away at age fifteen. But he didn’t know that I’d given her my heart the day we met. We were five years old, and I still remember the first time I laid eyes on her. She was so small, much smaller than all the other kindergarteners and was being bullied by a couple of the older kids. Unable to stomach the thought of someone so defenseless being hurt, I rushed to her side. The big green eyes that latched onto mine pierced straight through me, and the silly smile that uncurled on her mouth did me in. She’d captured a piece of me that day.
When I hung up with my father, the look in Mia’s eyes told me she already knew his answer. But the next words out of her mouth shocked the shit out of me. She told me she was a virgin, which I assumed, and said she wanted me to be her first.
God, just thinking of that conversation transports me back to that humid July night. My stomach was rolling with nerves, and even though I knew we probably shouldn’t, my dick was rock hard at the thought of fucking her. At being inside her first.
Hoping she didn’t look down and notice the erection straining in my gym shorts, I told her we couldn’t. We weren’t even dating, and with her leaving the next day, I was worried she’d regret it, and I didn’t want her to feel bad after. She said she didn’t want it to be with anyone else and wanted to always have the memory of her first time being with me. She made a very convincing argument, or hell, maybe I didn’t need much convincing.
I only agreed to do it because I made her promise that she would be okay when she left the next day. She promised me she’d move on, accept her move, and date other guys at her new high school. I believed her.
I gave her one slow kiss, pressing my lips against hers, giving her the chance to change her mind and pull away. Only she didn’t. Her tongue licked against my lower lip, and when I opened, it slipped inside my mouth and stroked mine.
Mia was surprised that I didn’t have a condom with me. She assumed I’d done it with a few of the girls from school that I’d messed around with. When I admitted it would be my first time too, she looked at me like she understood that we were both giving a piece of ourselves to the other. I jogged up to my house and retrieved a condom, and was back at the boat within minutes. I was guessing that by the time I made it back, she would have changed her mind, but instead she was undressed and under the quilt, quietly waiting for me with wide green eyes.
I still remember the tight squeeze of her around my cock, the puff of breath against my neck when I fully entered her, the way it felt when I came inside the latex for the first time, wiping her clean after and worrying that she hadn’t come. My chest gets tight as feelings of lust mix with ones of shame. I fucked up that night.
‘Collins?’ she asks, pulling me from my faraway thoughts.
I clear my throat. ‘Sorry. It’s just surreal seeing you here. Tell me what brought you to LA. Are you still living in Connecticut?’ I ask. I hate the formality of my questions, but we have lost ground to cover, and the scared look on her face when I’d opened the door is still lingering in my mind.
She takes a big gulp of her drink. ‘This is going to sound crazy…’ she laughs nervously.
‘Mia, I’ve known you since you were five. We used to tell each other everything.’
I didn’t know if someone had hurt her…or if she was running from something, but I waited patiently while she gathered her courage and downed several more sips of her drink.
‘Remember that promise we made each other?’ she says.
I watch her quietly. She was going to have to be more specific. Shit, it’d been fifteen years. ‘About?’ I probe.
‘Us. When we turned thirty…’ She swallows nervously.
I take a deep breath, trying to understand where she is headed with this. ‘Mia?’
‘When we were ten. We promised each other that if neither of us was married by the time we were thirty, we’d marry each other.’
The memory drifts into my head. Her soulful green eyes looking up at me like I was her savior, our pinky’s locking together in solidarity. Christ, we had promised that, hadn’t we? The suitcase by the front door. The fact that I’d turned thirty a few months ago. All of it slams into me at once, and a panicky feeling presses against my chest.
Heels clicking across the wood floor capture our attention. ‘There you are,’ Tatianna says, entering the library. ‘This house is really too big.’ She takes in Mia’s presence and stops. ‘Oh, I’m sorry, I assumed you were alone. Hi, I’m Tatianna.’ She holds out her hand and Mia rises to her feet and shakes it.
‘Mia. It’s nice to meet you. I’m sorry, I should go…’ She sets down her drink.
I rise to my feet and place my hands against Mia’s shoulders. ‘You don’t have to go anywhere. I’m sure it’s been a long day of traveling. Please sit.’
She swallows and watches me uneasily. ‘Are you sure?’
I nod. ‘Very. It sounds like we have a lot of catching up to do.’ After that fucking bomb she just dropped on me, there’s no way she’s going anywhere.
She nods, her smile unsure.
‘Tatianna, would you like to join us for a drink?’ I ask, heading to the bar.
‘Sure,’ she says, her voice flat.
I make her the raspberry vodka-soda mixture she likes and hand her the glass. Tatianna sits down across the room and crosses her legs, her posture straight as a rod and her eyes glaring blankly ahead. She’s still pissed about earlier.
I fill Mia in on the past fifteen years—that my brothers and I all live in the Los Angeles area now and that I run a successful investment firm downtown. My mouth is saying the words, but my brain is still trying to wrap around the fact that she showed up here after all these years.
Both women watch me and listen, Mia interjecting with questions every now and then, laughing happily when I tell her both of my younger brothers are settled down—Pace with a young son and Colton just got married last month.
Mia doesn’t offer many details about her life, or what has prompted her to come here, but I’m guessing Tatianna’s presence has thrown her off. There is still a lot I want to know.
‘So, I’m sorry,’ Tatianna interrupts, ‘who did you say you were?’
‘Mia was my best friend growing up,’ I answer for her, not liking Tatianna’s tone.
‘Yes. We were pretty much inseparable until we were fifteen.’
‘What happened when you were fifteen?’ Tatianna asks, not knowing the minefield she’s walking into.
My eyes lock on Mia’s and her cheeks heat. I can tell she’s remembering our first and only sexual encounter. I still worry that I’d been too rough with her. The way her small body trembled in my arms after, the blood I saw between her legs. I feel sick just thinking about it. If I had the chance to redo things today, I’d fuck her so well, she’d never want to leave. Christ, did my brain take a sick day too? I need to lock it up. Mia is not here to fuck. I repeat the mantra in my head.
‘My family moved,’ Mia answers, blinking and looking away from me. ‘And you are?’ Mia asks, and takes a sip of her drink.
Tatianna frowns at me, obviously not happy that I hadn’t offered up this information. ‘I’m his girlfriend.’
Chapter Two (#u170d506a-0164-55ab-b6c7-e2ea0017f4ff)
Mia
‘I’m his girlfriend,’ Tatianna says. She’s answering my question, but her glare is directed at Collins.
I’m mid sip, and her admission makes me suck in a breath—or drink rather—down the wrong way, sending me into a coughing fit.
‘Excuse me,’ I stammer between coughs. ‘I’m sorry. Of course you are.’ I manage to get my breathing back under control, but I can tell my face is flushed. Embarrassed isn’t a strong enough word for how I feel. He has a girlfriend!? I want to die.
I think back to when he gave me the tour of his home. The place is amazing and beautifully decorated, but there were no photos of him with a woman, no flowers or feminine touches anywhere. There wasn’t even a cozy nook where a girl might curl up and read a book or fashion magazine. And when Tatianna showed up, sure they were familiar with each other, but not in any way that even hinted at romance. Their eyes didn’t linger on one another’s, and from how far apart they sat, I just assumed she was an employee. Heck, the house is big enough that he must have several employees living here.
Also, I’d been so lost, deep in conversation with Collins, that I’d hardly noticed how beautiful she was. Now that I really look at her for the first time, it is obvious this is the type of woman he would date. She’s tall, slender and gorgeous. In fact, she looks familiar. I realize that she’s Tatianna Markov, the woman whose photo was on the cover of every Vogue magazine I saw at the airport kiosk.
My stomach sinks as I look at both of them—a tricky feat since they are on opposite ends of the room. But while my gaze floats between them I see some familiar mannerisms. Both have matching perfect posture. Just looking at them makes me sit up straighter. Their faces are harsh and cool with neutral expressions that give nothing away. That’s a new look for Collins. He never used to look so cold. I think back to our younger years. He was always guy-serious, but it was easy to put a smile on his face, one of my favorite things to do. The look on his face now is stern and immobile. I’m glad it isn’t directed at me, but it’s sad to see him this way at all.
Tatianna tosses her hair back and turns to me. ‘So, what brings you to Los Angeles?’
My eyes dart to Collins, but he manages to hold his stoic look, unfazed by her question. In a panic, I try to take a sip of my drink but it’s empty.
Collins gets up. ‘I’ll get you another one.’ He steps over to the bar and sets up three more glasses, making another round for each of us.
I take a deep breath, anything to stall. I don’t like lying, but there is no way I’m going to tell this woman I came here in the hopes of marrying her boyfriend. It was so stupid of me to come. I wish I’d taken time to think about what I was doing instead of just rushing online to find the cheapest ticket. It hadn’t even occurred to me that he might not be single. Although I’ve always been a bit out of control whenever Collins was involved. Why should now be any different?
But I’m not going to share any of this with Tatianna. She would just laugh me out of the house if I did that. Her eyes are on me, waiting for me to respond.
‘I…’ I search for words, anything that isn’t the real reason I came. ‘I lost my job.’ I feel myself sinking down in my chair, unable to believe I’m about to admit to Collins and his girlfriend that I am a failed accountant. ‘I was fired actually.’ Someone please shut me up.
Collins hands me a new drink, and I take several fortifying sips.
‘What did you do?’ he asks. He looks genuinely perplexed as he takes the seat across from me. I’m sure the girl he remembers never would have been careless enough to get fired from a job. I guess things change.
‘I was an accountant.’ I look down at my drink, stirring it with the straw. ‘My boss framed me for embezzling funds. And I had no way to prove it.’
Collins holds his hand up as if to stop me. ‘There’s always a way. I know several excellent forensic accountants. I could help connect you with one.’ He leans forward in his chair.
The concern in his eyes tells me he’ll help me if I want. He’d always been protective of me, and I love seeing that side of him again. I chew the inside of my lip, considering it briefly, but I’m too humiliated by the whole thing, besides, it isn’t worth the trouble. It was a small enough amount that they didn’t press charges. I wave him off. ‘It’s not worth it. He only managed to get a couple thousand before he…or, rather ‘I’ was caught.’
Tatianna laughs. ‘The guy must suck at embezzling if he only managed a few thousand.’
I force a smile, but a few thousand seems like a lot to me. They kept my last paycheck to make up for the loss. It would have been enough for me to at least pay rent for a few more months.
‘Anyway, I’m here because I needed a place to get a fresh start.’ I stir my drink as I try to think of any topic of conversation other than my failed accounting career.
Tatianna yawns and stretches in a way that looks more practiced than real. She’s definitely not an actress.
I take it as a not so subtle suggestion that it’s time for me to leave. Humiliated, I stand up, ‘I should get going,’ I say, downing the last of my drink, and placing it on the nearest table. I head out to the hall and the direction I hope will lead to my bag and the exit. I may not have enough money for more than one night in a hotel, but I can’t stay here.
‘Wait, Gremli…Mia. Hang on, where are you going?’ Collins follows me out into the hallway, and catches my arm, forcing me to stop. The contact of his large hand closing around my upper arm sends chills zipping down my body. It’s been a long time since he touched me so intimately, yet my body recalls that night with perfectly clarity.
‘I shouldn’t have come. You’ve got…’ I wave my hand around vaguely, not sure what I’m referring to exactly. It could be the amazing house, beautiful girlfriend, or perfect life. Any one of these makes me feel small, but the combination makes me feel as if I could cry. I swallow against the hard lump in my throat and force myself to look up at him.
He smiles, making me smile.
‘Nonsense. You came all this way. I want you to stay. At least a few days. We have fifteen years to catch up on.’ His eyes latch onto mine, kind yet insistent. It makes me warm. He still has the look that makes me feel like I’m the only one who matters. How does he manage to do that, even while dating the drop-dead gorgeous woman in the next room? I don’t know, but I can’t say no to him. Not when he looks at me this way. Besides, the house is so big he must have ten extra bedrooms, it’s not like I’m putting him out or anything.
I sigh. ‘Okay.’ Just thinking about a bed makes me tired. It was a long day and a long flight. A yawn escapes.
He leans back into the library doorway. ‘I’m gonna give Gremlin here the purple bedroom.’
‘Who?…Whatever,’ Tatianna answers in a dull tone.
He slides his hand around mine, as if we’re still little kids, only now his hand is much larger, and my fingers and palm are swallowed by his firm grip. It feels completely natural, him taking my hand, and I follow him to the front hall where he effortlessly lifts my suitcase and pulls it up the steps. We venture down a long hallway until he finally stops in front of a door, opens it, and puts my suitcase down just inside.
‘Grem…Mia, I’m glad you’re here.’ His mouth hooks up in a playful smirk as if he thinks it’s funny that he can’t seem to call me by my real name. The first time we met, I was wearing a Gremlins T-shirt. The outdated, thrift store tee was the reason he’d had to save me that first day in kindergarten. Some of the other kids were teasing me about my second-hand clothing, and he came to my rescue. After he told the other kids off, he managed to turn the whole thing into a joke by saying gremlins were cool, then calling me gremlin. Not in a mean way, but as friendly jab. I was so thankful for the rescue that he could have called me almost anything that day, and I would have laughed for him. The nickname unfortunately stuck.
I smile. It is kind of funny. But I also blush because we’re alone again. Just the two of us, and he’s looking at me in that way, again. The way he did when he first realized who I was at the front door. I had no way to be sure, but his eyes smoldered as if he was remembering our first and only time together, fifteen years ago on the boat.
I remembered that night as if it happened yesterday. I’d been so nervous, but so sure it was the right thing, and the only way to really say goodbye to him. It was a way for me to give him a part of me that he would have forever. He tried to talk me out of it, even though I could tell by the way his eyes surveyed my body that he wanted to devour me. I was so relieved when he finally agreed, and also admitted that it was his first time too. Because it meant he also wanted me to have a part of him. A part I’ve held dear all these years.
He’d been so gentle, and so careful with me. I can’t say he was perfectly smooth, but neither was I. Still, his kisses were warm, and his arms held me close as we struggled to figure out the best way to do what neither of us really knew how to do. But then he’d taken control, laying me down and moving over me. He had been so tender and so attentive; easing in slowly and making sure he didn’t hurt me. Making sure I was okay. And it did hurt, but only a pinch and only for a moment. And then it was amazing. The feeling of having him inside me, filling me. The memory still makes me blush. And yet afterwards he was so worried he’d hurt me. I felt whole, so completely cared for.
But now, I’m thirty. And single. And jobless. And perhaps I’m crazy, but I want to recapture a bit of my youth – and the best part of it was him. Even though I pushed it out of my head for many years, as I grew older, I longed to share my life with someone. Not just someone. Him. Collins. My first love. My first everything. Deep down, my heart knew what my body felt all those years ago – we were destined to be together. I didn’t know how or why, but I knew he’d eventually come back into my life when the time was right. I couldn’t help but wonder if I purposefully avoided serious relationships all these years, avoiding commitment in order to fulfill our promise to each other. Every man I dated over the past decade was compared to him, and not a single one measured up. As embarrassed as I was to just show up on his doorstep unannounced, the boy I longed for all these years is now a man. And my body takes notice, my heart pumping hard as he watches me.
Now Collins is taller, and though still trim, his shoulders are broad like an Olympic swimmer. His cheekbones and jaw line matured and sharpened, and his once slender, soft lips have filled in, making them that much more lickable. Collins always stood tall and confident. His tailored, button up navy shirt is just loose enough to leave a bit to my imagination, and my imagination does naughty things with his beautiful abs.
He clears his throat.
My eyes drift up the blue shirt, which brings out the sparkle in his cool blue eyes.
‘I don’t want you to get to upset over Tatianna. She’ll be fine with you staying here.’
I nod. ‘Sure.’ I doubt that, but I won’t argue.
‘There are fresh towels in your bathroom. If you need me, my bedroom is at the end of the hall.’ There’s a pause and he smiles, making his eyes sparkle. ‘It’s great to see you again.’ He leans in and picks me up in a hug that is reminiscent of so many things. Our childish youth, our strong friendship, and our romantic farewell all those years ago. I know I shouldn’t let myself feel so attached to him after only an hour, but the thought of watching him turn and walk away into the arms of Natasha, or Tatianna, or whatever the hell her name was makes me want to rip out my earrings and prepare myself for a full on girl fight.
After several long moments, where I can feel his heart beating against mine, he sets me down and closes the door, leaving me alone in the room.
I turn and lean my back against the door staring blankly at the guestroom and wonder what I’m really doing here.
Chapter Three (#u170d506a-0164-55ab-b6c7-e2ea0017f4ff)
Collins
The door to the guestroom closes and I just stand there, still in shock that Mia is inside. That she’s flown all the way to LA. And more surprising than anything is the fact she’s still single after all these years. Not that it matters—I’m with Tatianna. But still, my heart feels full seeing her again. I’ve often wondered where she was, what she was doing. Shit, I figured she was married with a couple of kids by now.
I hated hearing that she’d been wrongly framed and then fired from her job. Although the accounting job made sense. She was always good with numbers. In the various childhood ventures I’d started, she’d always point out my mathematical errors. Funny, considering I owned one of the top investment firms on the West Coast.
I wander back downstairs, but Tatianna isn’t in the library where I left her. The house feels cold and quiet. I head back upstairs to the master suite that takes up the entire second floor west wing.
‘Tatianna?’ I call, not finding her in the bedroom.
‘In here,’ she says from the Hers walk-in closet.
I find her hanging up clothes on little pink padded hangers. There are a half dozen shopping bags at her feet, and I’m reminded of our fight this afternoon. ‘Are you okay?’ I ask.
She stops what she’s doing and watches me. ‘Who is that woman?’
‘Mia? She’s a childhood friend.’
