Second Chance for Romance

Chapter 12

I completely forgot about the letter I promised to write to Gina. I remembered the next morning during my run. I made a mental note to write it after judo practice, before the girls returned from the pool.

Life had different ideas.

Trip came home before I’d managed to write much more than Monday’s date, “Dear Gina,” and a couple of paragraphs that read like the dullest diary entry in history.

“Come on,” he said. “Let’s check the progress across the street.”

“Can’t it wait?”

“Dude, we haven’t checked in more than a week.”

“I check it every day. It looks fine.”

“Yeah, from the outside. But let’s see how the inside is coming. I wanna do it while that asshole foreman isn’t around.”

I sighed. “Yeah, okay. But let’s hurry. I need to finish this.”

He glanced at the page. “You know,” he mused, “Wren would probably thank me for distracting you.”

“Do you have a horse in this race? That I don’t know about?”

“Sort of,” he admitted.

“Tell me,” I said as we walked to Sayuri’s house to fetch the spare set of keys.

“Well, Christy’s really cute. And naïve-sexy, like she doesn’t even realize it.”

“And…?” I rolled my eyes at my conversational skills lately.

“Well, Wren’s been telling me stories about when they were together.

Pretty hot stuff. Christy plays a good game, but she isn’t as innocent as she wants us to think. She and Wren were pretty serious, too.” He shook his head in wonder.

“What?”

“Man, if you’d told me a year ago that my girlfriend was in love with another woman, I’d’ve freaked or something. Maybe gone off the deep end.

Like you, when you found out about Wren and me.”

“Don’t remind me,” I said darkly.

“But you know what I mean.”

“Yeah, I do.”

We rang Sayuri’s doorbell and asked for the keys. Then we walked across the street.

“So, what’re you gonna do?” I asked.

He looked at me sideways. “Um… I think I have to help. With Wren’s plan. The matchmaking. I mean, everything starts with you.”

“You’re kidding,” I said in semi-disgust. “You’re going over to the dark side?”

“Wren isn’t Darth Vader, dude. Besides, he turned out to be good in the end.”

“Maybe. But he did a lot of evil shit before that. He blew up a planet! A whole freakin’ planet!”

“You really think Wren’s evil?”

“No, but…”

“But nothing. She cares about you, she’s in love with Christy, and she wants you both to be happy.”

“With you and her in the middle.”

“Well, yeah,” he said with a goofy grin.

“Hey,” I laughed, “at least you’re honest about it.”

“Of course. That’s what friends are for.”

“Let’s see… You want to help your girlfriend set me up with another girl so I can have sex with her while you have sex with mine. Oh, and they have sex with each other while you and I watch. Have I got that right? Wait… and we all live happily ever after. The end.”

“Well, when you put it like that…”

“Oh, what a tangled web we weave…”

“Exactly!”

“You don’t know the rest of that line, do you?”

“No. What is it?”

“When first we practice to deceive.”

“Ha! Okay. But… how do you know all this stuff? I mean the books and quotes and art and architecture and everything?”

“I read. All the time. That’s what I do half the time when I’m up in my studio. And I just remember stuff.”

“No kidding. You’re a regular Renaissance man. Whereas I can barely tell the difference between Renaissance and Romanesque.”

“Oh, come on. Those are easy. They’re so completely different.”

“I know. I was just kidding.” He grinned and unlocked the front door of the house. “At least I know this stuff. C’mon, let’s have a look.”

The house looked fine. Better than fine. The work was as good as the planning, which made our job easier. We reported back to Sayuri, and I fiddled with a Japanese puzzle box while she and Trip went over the latest invoices and estimates from the contractor. We said goodbye and promised to look at the house more frequently as the work neared the end.

The girls were home when we returned. It was Christy’s turn to cook dinner, but she was in the process of wheedling and cajoling Wren.

“Okay, okay! I’ll do it,” Wren said at last. “You know I can’t resist when you look at me like that.”

“Thank you, thank you. I’ll make it up to you, I swear.” Christy impulsively kissed her cheek, and Wren actually blushed.

I had to stifle a snort. Annoying Wren before dinner was always a bad idea.

Christy bounced up and down when she saw Trip and me.

“Bunny’s excited,” I said to him as an aside.

“I refuse to let you bring me down, Mr. Sourpuss.”

“Not me. I know better. Uh-uh. You’re more than I can handle when you’re like this.”

“And don’t you forget it, mister!” She changed direction mid-thought.

“Oh, let me tell you! I showed my sketches to Siobhan today. She says the pose is exactly right. And your expression is perfect. Speaking of which, I fixed that today.”

“When? You haven’t seen me.”

“I did it from memory.”

“Oh. Okay. So what’d you do?”

“Well, do you remember when you showed me your sketches for the

building? I said I wouldn’t sleep with you?”

“How could I forget?” I said evenly.

“I drew that face. You were so angry. But you never said a mean word, though I probably deserved it if you had. But, gosh! You were hurt and confused and really upset.”

“I’m glad my pain is your art.”

“I didn’t mean it like that,” she said quickly. “I just meant that I understood. You were so emotional, so… frustrated. It was like you were helpless. I just thought…” She looked at her hands. “I don’t know what I thought. I guess… I just wanted you to know.”

Wren’s eyes pleaded with me not to blow up.

I reminded myself to breathe. “I… get it,” I said to Christy at last. “And I’m glad you found the right look.”

“You’re upset. I’m sorry. I didn’t—” She hung her head. “I should probably go now.”

“No,” I said. “It’s okay.”

Wren watched with tears in her eyes.

I forced a smile. “There’s beauty in everything, right?”

I was headed to my workout the next day when I ran into Andy from Daphne and Sara’s graduation party. I greeted him warmly. I didn’t even think about it. I just did it, which seemed to startle him. He asked where I was living when he recovered, so I told him about Wren’s father and the house.

“So you moved in together?”

“Yes, but not like you think. She and my best friend are together. Trip.

Her best friend lives with us too. Christy. So it’s the four of us.”

“Sounds like a cozy arrangement,” he said with a grin.

“It’s more trouble than it’s worth sometimes.”

“This is normally the point where I’d say, ‘Women, huh?’ Gotta keep up the act. But you know better.”

“No kidding. So how’re you? How’s life?”

“The same. Still searching for truth and happiness.”

“Who isn’t?”

“In other news, I applied to the PhD program. Philosophy. I wanna be

overeducated and underemployed the rest of my life.”

“At least you can be philosophical about it.”

He looked at me askance and laughed when he realized I wasn’t mocking him.

We chatted for a few more minutes, until I was almost late.

“Hey,” I said before we parted, “let me have your phone number. I’ll call you sometime.”

“For real?”

“Yeah, sure. We can hang out.”

“I’d… like that.” He wrote in a small notepad and tore off the page.

I took it and gave him my number.

“Thanks,” he said. “Take care.”

“You too. Say hi to Jamie and the other guys.”

He looked at me for a moment. “You really mean it?”

“Of course.”

He shook his head and laughed.

“Hey,” I said, “I’m straight, not narrow.”

He laughed again, and it reached his eyes this time.

“Take care, man. But I gotta run. Call me sometime!”

“I was thinking…,” Wren said at dinner that evening, “we’ve all been working like crazy and could use a break.”

“Amen,” Trip said. “What d’you have in mind?”

“Well, Halloween’s on Monday, so I was thinking—”

“It’s a school night,” I warned.

She gave me a cross look. “I know. Which is why I was thinking of a party on Saturday. Does that work with your busy school schedule?”

“A costume party would be fun,” Christy said.

“Exactly,” Wren said in a much lighter tone.

The fix was in, I realized, but I wasn’t going down without a fight. “Do we have time to get costumes and decorate and all?”

“You are just determined to be a wet blanket, aren’t you?”

Yes. “No.” I sulked.

“It’s okay,” Christy said. “Not everyone can be sunny all the time. Well,

except me.”

“What? You’re as moody as I am!”

“Am not! And if you say so again I’ll pout.”

“Children,” Trip said. “Behave.”

“Yes, Dad,” Christy and I said at the same time. Mine was sullen and contrary. Hers was upbeat, and her good mood wore me down.

I reluctantly cracked a grin, and hers turned into a radiant smile of triumph.

Wren watched the whole thing, of course.

“You were saying…?” Trip prompted her.

“Right. Well, I was saying… I think we should have a party this weekend. I’m pretty sure I can throw everything together in time, food- and drink-wise.”

“Paul and I can do the decorations,” Christy volunteered.

“And I’ll start making Halloween mix tapes,” Trip added. “And we’ll need to party-proof the house. Start by finding the keys for the bedroom doors.”

“Good call,” I said.

“Have you thought of costumes?” he asked Wren.

“You’d look good as Han Solo.”

“Yeah, I would. Cool. That was easy.”

“And I was thinking…”

I almost laughed as she let the pause draw out so we’d look at her. She was a performer, all right.

“I want to make a Princess Leia costume. You know, the metal bikini one?”

“It’s pretty skimpy,” I said. “You definitely have the body to pull it off.

But still…”

“You’d look awesome!” Christy said. “What’re you thinking, Paul? For a costume, I mean.”

“No clue.”

“You know…,” she mused, “you’d look cool as the guy from Risky Business.”

“Tom Cruise?”

“Yeah! When he does the dance in his underwear, with those rad sunglasses.”

“Wayfarers,” Trip said. “I have a pair you can borrow.”

“You’d need tighty-whitey underwear,” Wren added.

“That’s what you said the last time we had a costume party,” I said.

“When I wore a toga. Remember?” I looked from her to Christy and back again. “Hold on a sec… This was your idea, wasn’t it? The Tom Cruise costume.”

“What if it was?” Wren said mildly.

“What’s it matter?” Christy said. “You totally look like him. Except…”

“Except what?”

“Well, your legs and butt are nicer’n his.”

Wren burst into laughter at my expression. “I swear I didn’t tell her to say that!”

“Say what?” Christy said. “I really do think they’re nicer.”

“Thank you,” I told her with exaggerated politeness. Then I glared at Wren again. “You’re insufferable.”

“Yes.” She wiped the corners of her eyes and couldn’t stop smiling. “I am.”

“So… what?” Christy said. “Don’t you like the costume idea?”

“I love it,” I told her.

“I just thought you’d look nice.”

“I think so too. Thank you.”

She smiled but was still a little confused.

“What’re you going to wear?” I asked her.

“Alice in Wonderland.”

“Your idea too?” I accused Wren.

“I think it’ll be cute!” Christy objected. “Lots of frills and ruffles. Even better, I have the perfect shoes. They’re cute patent leather Mary Janes. I’ve been dying to wear them, but I—”

“Hadn’t found the right outfit yet?” I chuckled.

“Are you going to start making fun of me again?”

“Yes. No. Maybe.”

“Hell hath no fury…,” Trip began.

“Like a pint-sized woman scorned,” I finished.

Christy’s eyes blazed. “You’d better watch out, mister. I could take my brothers out, and I’ll do the same to you.”

“Sure, in a battle of cuteness.” I smiled to take the edge off. “I’m only kidding. You are cute though, especially when you’re riled up.”

“And don’t you forget it!”

“Better watch out, Paul,” Trip said with a laugh, “she’s a feisty one.” He poured the last of the wine into her glass. “Here you go. Facing down bullies is thirsty work.” He turned to Wren. “Want me to fetch another?”

“I think we’re good,” she said.

“Would you get one for Paul and me?” Christy asked.

Wren’s eyebrows shot up.

Mine did the same.

“Oh, come on. Seriously?” Christy said. “We’re going to the studio.

We’ll be working.”

“In that case,” Trip said, “I’ll fetch the ice bucket.” He returned a minute later and handed it to me.

Christy swept up her wineglass. “Come on, Mr. Cute Butt. Let’s get to work.”

Christy drew just as well with a buzz. But the wine lowered her inhibitions, and she forgot to act like a schoolgirl. She didn’t turn into a brazen seductress, but she wasn’t as reserved as usual. She wasn’t as modest, either, which was both good and bad.

Good, because I enjoyed the view.

Bad, because I enjoyed the view.

She was wearing one of her thin bras, and her nipples showed through her light sweater. She was also wearing a tight pair of stirrup pants. My imagination didn’t have to work very hard to picture her without them.

Worst of all, she needed a lot of close-ups and detail sketches. She sat on the floor by my knee, and her sweater fell away from her body whenever she leaned forward. I had a clear view of her small, firm breasts. Her bra was sheer enough that I could see the outline of her areolae. They were dark, almost brown. I could smell her perfume, too, and it was driving me crazy.

I finally lost it when she frowned at one of her sketches. She unconsciously touched her mouth as she studied it. My vision seemed to zoom in on her perfect pink lips. They parted in slow motion. She ran her thumb along them. They closed around it, and she sucked gently.

Blood rushed to my penis so quickly that I actually felt lightheaded. I lost my balance and caught it against the couch.

It took Christy a moment to realize something was wrong. “What…?”

“I’m okay,” I lied. But my dick was already semi-hard. And judging by the spots in my vision, it wasn’t going to stop until it diverted my entire blood supply. “Just a little dizzy.”

“Oh my gosh. It’s probably low blood sugar. Happens to me all the time.”

She stood up abruptly. Her crotch was at eye-level, and I could see through the triangle gap at the top of her thighs. “I’ll be right back. Wait here.”

Where’m I going to go? Out for pizza?

I climbed onto the couch and grabbed one of the pillows to cover my erection.

Gee, that won’t be obvious.

My head was fine by the time Christy flitted up the stairs and thrust a glass of orange juice at me.

I drank it, grateful for the distraction from her nipples.

“Thanks,” I said, and took a deep breath.

My hard-on started to relent, but it wasn’t going soft any time soon.

“Do you need another? Are you shaking? How’s your head? Still dizzy?”

“Yes. No. Better. Not really,” I said.

“I love how you play with words. It’s like you’re an artist and they’re your palette.” She snapped out of it. “Oh my gosh! Just listen to me, chattering away. I’d better get you more juice, just to be sure.”

She returned a minute later, breathing a little harder than before. Her nipples threatened to make me dizzy for real.

I downed the juice and made a show of feeling normal. I still had an erection, of course, but that was normal too.

“We should probably finish for the night,” Christy said when she decided I wasn’t going to pass out. She looked at her watch. “Oh, wow. It’s almost midnight.”

“Time for bed.”

“Separately, right? I don’t want you to get the wrong impression.”

I started to apologize but realized she was grinning. “Now who’s making fun of whom?”

“See? That’s what I mean about you and words. I’d’ve said ‘who.’ But it’s really ‘whom,’ isn’t it?”

I nodded.

“How do you know?”

“There’s a trick to it. Use ‘who’ if you’d say ‘he’ and ‘whom’ if you’d

say ‘him.’”

“Oh, cool. I always learn stuff with you. Like Brunelleschi and his dome.

Or why Gothic churches are so tall. Or creative ways to use a throw pillow.”

My face must have turned scarlet, because she laughed.

“I was hoping you wouldn’t notice. Sorry.”

“It’s okay. I’ve seen one before, you know.”

“One what? ” I teased.

She rolled her eyes. “Duh. An erection.”

“Well, I’m kinda shy about mine.”

“Not according to Wren.”

My eyes widened in surprise.

“I know all about how she teased you when you modeled together. She used to brag about it.”

“Oh she did, did she?”

“Mmm hmm.”

I gave her a critical look. “How much wine have you had?”

“All of it,” she said proudly. She pointed at the empty bottle. “Don’t worry,” she said. “I never really get drunk. Not with my metabolism. Well, I do get drunk, but not from wine. I have to drink whiskey or something like that.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Sure. But don’t try to get me drunk. I’m Catholic, remember?”

“How could I forget?”

“Drinking is a sacrament with us.”

“Right.”

“So… are you ready to try standing up?”

“I think so.”

She waited a moment and then nodded at the pillow. “Are you going to take that with you?”

“I hadn’t planned on it. But now I think I might, just to annoy you.”

She reached to snatch it away.

I was too quick for her and held it in place.

She tugged. “No fair. You’re too strong.”

“Okay,” I said when she pouted, “you win.”

I pulled my hand away. She made a quick feint, but I didn’t move. She gave me a suspicious look. Then she reached out slowly, while I left my hand where it was. She grasped the pillow and yanked it away.

My penis was flaccid.

“No fair! You cheated!”

“Sorry,” I said without a trace of remorse. “You missed your chance.”

“I’ll see it one day.”

“Not if I can help it.”

Her expression crystallized.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” I stood and held out a hand to keep her from leaving. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Listen,” I said earnestly, “we have to stop.”

“Stop what?”

“Saying the wrong thing. We hurt each other’s feelings. Then we apologize. Then we do it again.” I spread my hands in supplication. “We have to stop. And maybe cut each other some slack. I mean, I say some monumentally stupid things sometimes, but I never mean to hurt your feelings.”

She nodded. “Me neither. I just… say the wrong things.”

“So… from now on we give each other the benefit of the doubt.”

She nodded.

“Then maybe we won’t have to apologize as often.”

“That’d be nice.”

I ventured a smile, which she returned.

Then she pouted. “I still say you cheated, though.”

“With the pillow?” I laughed. “Yeah, I did. Sorry. Better luck next time.”