CHAPTER FIVE
Becca
My friend’s place always makes me feel a little uncomfortable. I love Mia dearly, and we’ve been friends since our freshman year, but that’s where any commonalities end. She’s a free spirit, an artist. She rolls with the punches and gets through things by the seat of her pants whereas I plan everything meticulously. Given my current problem, however, I think she’ll be the best for advice.
Usually, I avoid her place. Her small, studio apartment is strewn with half-finished art projects, empty ramen containers, empty wine bottles, crumpled papers, and I’m not sure if she even has real carpet under the tapestry of her colorful, rumpled clothes. She makes the best cup of Earl Grey tea, however.
I blow on the steaming liquid while she sits across from me, curly blonde hair bouncing, eyes twinkling. I can tell she’s ready for some grade-A gossip. It’s really hard to stifle a moan. Maybe this is a bad idea.
“Spill,” she says, clearly getting bored waiting for me to open up. “I can tell something’s wrong. And you got me up before noon on a Sunday, so, it better be good.” She gives me a wry smile, complete with a wrinkle of her nose so that I know she isn’t being too serious.
Heaving a big sigh, I hunch my shoulders as though facing a rainstorm. “I had a one-night stand.”
Her brow shoots up, and she throws her hands in the air. “Finally?”
I give Mia a withering look. “Don’t start.” She’s always giving me a hard time for being a stick in the mud. A wet blanket. I’m not. Risky behavior just doesn’t do it for me — normally.
She holds up her hands. “Sorry! It’s just, you know, everyone has one eventually. Was it good?”
I want to lie and say that it wasn’t, but I know she’ll be able to see through my bullshit. I nod. “The best,” I say because it’s the truth. I haven’t had a lot of partners, just three including Cole, but it was far and away the best sex I’ve ever had.
“Did you get a name? A number? Maybe there can be a repeat performance.” She gives me her typical, cheeky grin. It’s infectious. I have to smile even though I feel like banging my forehead on the table.
“It’s… complicated.” I look into my teacup as though it has answers.
Mia crunches on her granola bar. She’s always into some new age health fad. This week, it’s granola. “Isn’t it always?” she asks, mouth full.
I wish she can read my mind so I can explain it without explaining it, but I know I’ll end up giving every excruciating detail. It makes me nervous. I can feel myself getting sweaty and uncomfortable. I can feel Mia’s clutter closing in on me. Every move I make, her surrounding trash answers back by crumbling under my feet. “It’s a mess in here,” I mutter sourly.
She rolls her eyes so hard I wonder if she can see the back of her skull. “Okay, Mom. And don’t tell me you fucked Rob again.”
I wrinkle my nose in distaste. “God, no. Like that would be the best sex in my life? I made grocery lists every time we fucked.”
Mia snickers and brushes the crumbs off her tie-dyed tank top. “Good. Because, as your friend, I can’t let you double dip into that mistake. I’m so glad you dumped him.”
That gets a real smile out of me. Mia is the only friend who actually understands what kind of guy Rob is. All my other friends gave me such a hard time for that breakup. He’s a great guy, they said. So nice. Reliable. Marriage material. Boring. Dull. Controlling with none of the confidence. It isn’t that I hate Rob, it’s just that I feel absolutely nothing.
I shake my head. “He bored me to death the first time around. I don’t want seconds of that. No, I met him at a bar.” I wince. I can’t help it. The guilt washes in. I always prided myself on taking my job seriously, and to me, this is beyond forgivable. That, and the story still has to be done. How am I going to crawl back after Cole left me high and dry in the morning? I’m pretty sure I don’t want to see him again. Or him me. At least, that’s what I think. Maybe I should just do some boring ra-ra piece on the team instead.
Her brow rises again. I’m full of surprises this morning, it seems. “Oh, wow. Were you drunk?”
I snort. “No. I had a gin and tonic. Not even a full one. I just… I don’t know what I was thinking! He’s good looking, but that wasn’t all of it. Something about him that’s hard to put into words. He pushed all my buttons in the best way.” I shrug helplessly. There is no other way to describe the inescapable chemistry we had, though I’m afraid it was only one way.
She nods along, her gaze sympathetic. It’s nice to get it all out, but I know she won’t be satisfied with just that part of the story. She’ll want all the gory details. “Well,” she says thoughtfully. “Make it a two-night stand?”
The thought had occurred to me, popping up like an obnoxious soap bubble, but Cole had already shot that idea down pretty damn fast. Which is for the best because I need to finish the story. I can’t continue sleeping with him. Once was enough. Once was a mistake. “I can’t, Mia.”
I get another dramatic eye roll and feel myself growing defensive already. I know what speech is coming, and I don’t want to hear it. “Becca, you’re in college. Live a little! What if this is the love of your life and—”
I cut her off. “He’s not. It was only hot sex. The love of my life right now is journalism.”
“Becca, come on! It’s just the college paper!” She sounds so exasperated with me. Even though I came to her to unload, now I just want to leave.
“Mia, I know you mean well. I do. I know you care, but you just don’t get it, okay? Journalism for me is like art for you. Can you imagine giving that up for a guy? And let’s be clear, he’s not a good guy. He’s just a good lay.”
She sighs, and I know I’m making some headway. “No. I wouldn’t give it up.” She narrows her eyes. “Wait a minute. You went to a bar to interview Cole James Friday night. Are you saying…?” She cleared her throat. “Are you saying that you slept with Cole James?”
I’m tempted to make up a different name. I run a hand over my eyes and feel a headache circling my temples. Finally, I cave. “Yes. It was Cole James.” I don’t like how his name tastes on my tongue. It tastes an awful lot like regret and longing.
Mia is quiet far longer than I expect her to be. When I’m finally able to meet her gaze, I see she looks really surprised. I give her a flat look.
“No, no!” she blurts. “I mean… look, he’s just not your type, ya know? And he usually goes for bimbos. Tiny blondes with big fake boobs.” She holds her hands out in front of her chest to demonstrate.
Fair enough. “Yeah, yeah,” I grumble.
“You’re gorgeous, Becca. You know that. That’s not what I’m saying. Hell, you can have just about any guy you want.”
I’m not so sure about that. Sure, I’m pretty enough. I get looks. I get asked out, but I’m not used to casual flings, and Cole doesn’t seem like relationship material. Plus, he’d been brutally honest with me — he never sleeps with the same girl twice.
My silence gives me away. “Do you like him?” she asks, voice soft, tinged with pity.
I bristle. I don’t want to be pitied. Not ever. I cross my arms over my chest and look away. “I don’t know,” I answer, a little snappy, but truthful all the same. “I don’t even know him other than he plays football, is good at it, fucks like a stallion, is a slob, and has a violent temper.” Saying the words out loud cement it. I can’t pursue him.
Mia’s jaw sags. “Slob? You’ve been inside his house?”
I lift a shoulder. “Yeah. And it’s nasty.”
She stares at me. “He never takes women home with him. Rumor has it, that is.”
“Well, I don’t know about the rumor, but I woke up in his bed with only a note on the table for company.”
Mia gets up, dusting more granola crumbs off her clothes. “This is a little more serious than tea. I’m opening the wine.”