Cruise

I’m accustomed to the finer things in life.

I wasn’t born with a silver spoon in my mouth, but one arrived soon after.

Actually, maybe I was born with one. I don’t know.

I’m adopted.

My life before has been weighing on my mind lately. Who was I before I was adopted? Along with a lot of other stuff that seems to be plaguing me. I feel lost, listless, and have for a while now. Although I don’t go without, I feel like I am. Superficial stuff and belongings aren’t filling the void that’s grown the last few years.

My car shines under the fluorescent lights a few parking spaces from the door. As soon as I’m tucked inside my Mercedes S-Class Coupe, I can breathe again, feeling at peace in the silent, but familiar surroundings. I love this car. It was an unexpected purchase for me, so I’m told, but the feel of the fine leather and the slick steering wheel are pure luxury I couldn’t resist.

I drive out of the underground garage and start for the penthouse. There’s no traffic at this hour, so I take the long way and pass the park, my mind too unsettled to sleep anyway.

My thoughts tick back to Celeste. I could have said something nice so we parted on good terms, but the door slammed closed so fast, and I never broke my stride as I headed down the hall to the elevators. It wasn’t so much a lost opportunity as it was a new beginning for me, free from entanglements.

Thinking about how many hours I used to research online, searching for answers to help Alex find the answers he so desperately needed to feel whole, it makes me realize how many years I could have been searching for my own answers.

Who is the woman that gave birth to me?

Why did she give me away?

Was it a selfish act or best for me?

Was she poor, rich, blue-collar, blue blood?

Who’s my father?

Were they together? Apart?

Too young?

Not fit?

What makes someone give up a child?

Or was I taken?

Did Child Protective Services remove me?

I can’t keep going like this, my mind spinning aimlessly. My mother’s heritage is similar to Alex’s mom. They held the real money in the family. With each dying grandparent, my parents became wealthier and wealthier. As the youngest of five and the only adopted child in the family, I have a distorted view of the environment where I was raised. I’ve always stood out from the others. They are fair with blond hair. I’m olive-skinned with brown eyes, medium brown hair. I never stood a chance of fitting in, at least not visually.

My education was the best. I met Alex, this scrawny kid who had a chip bigger than his shoulder, at school. He was born to cause trouble. The day I met him was the day I met my people. Boy, did we cause trouble, but we rarely got caught. Too many good times to count. He’s more my family than my actual family ever has been.

Even the peacefulness of the sun peeking through the trees at sunrise doesn’t help temper my restlessness. I’ve burned enough of the daylight already and decide it’s time to go home.

When I open the door to the penthouse, Alex is sitting at a desk—eyes on the laptop in front of him. No other light in the room except the sunlight brightening the room as it rises. The yellow glow in the room is comforting, especially in comparison to the cold darkness of Celeste’s place. Closing the door, I ask, “Working late or starting early?”

Alex looks up. “I don’t know. What time is it?”

Glancing to my watch, I reply, “Six thirty-five.”

He leans back, putting his hands behind his head. “Sneaking in?”

“Ha.” I sit on the couch near the desk. “Am I grounded, Dad?”

That makes him laugh. “This is your one warning.”

“That’s more than my parents ever gave me.”

Standing up, he walks to the kitchen. “Coffee?”

“Nah. I’m going to bed in a minute.”

“Rough night?”

“Rough everything.”

“Want my opinion?”

My best friend has never been one to beat around the bush. “I think you’ll give it either way, so shoot.”

“Seems to me that you need a change.”

“Change in what?” I know what he’s getting at, but maybe I need the reminder.

I turn back and look at him over my shoulder. He hesitates, and when his eyes return to the coffee pot, he replies, “In scenery and companionship.”

“For all the hell we’ve raised, your rich-kid background is showing. Are we old enough to use the word companionship? I’m not sure that’s a proper millennial term.”

He laughs easing the smart of his words. “Just calling it like I see it, rich kid.”

“If it makes you feel justified in your conclusion, I think you’re right.”

“I appreciate the acknowledgment.”

There’s a lot of truth in his analysis. I can give him the credit he deserves. He knows me better than anyone and maybe he sees through the bullshit I try to slip past him some days. Despite his fancy fucking name—Alexander Kingwood IV—he might know a thing or two about relationships. His own wasn’t an easy road to travel, but he and his wife, Sara Jane, got there in the end.

Jealousy pings from a black box sunken to the bottom of my heart.

He knows the struggles I’ve tried hard to hide. With him, I can be honest. It’s early, but maybe it’s a good time to lay out my feelings.

Feelings.

I sound like such a pussy. Yet, I’m willing to go there because I don’t have anyone else to turn to and something is off. Shifting, I lie back on the couch. “Since we’re at it, any suggestions?”

“Take a vacation? Somewhere sunny. You’re looking like shit these days.”

“Geez, thanks.”

“You’re welcome. While you’re there, find a pretty girl and fuck your days away.”

I smirk. “I do that here.”

Resting his arms on the table, he tilts his head. “I’m not here to argue. You told me to tell you, so I am. Find someone that makes you smile.”

He’s changed a lot over the last year. His sharper edges might have dulled, but I know what he’s been through. What we’ve been through. It’s only made him appreciate where he is now, and who he has in his life. Near-death experiences will do that to a guy, but where is my reward for surviving? Where is the light I’m supposed to find? Celeste wasn’t the answer. That’s probably my fault for being so closed off, but something between us didn’t make me want to open up, especially if she was fucking other guys. “That easy?”

“It’s never that easy.” When I spy the amusement in his eyes, he adds, “But you don’t want easy anymore anyway. Right?”

I chuckle. “Is that what my issues are, Dr. Kingwood.”

“If I had a Ph.D. in psychology, I’d say yes.”

“But since you don’t, what do you say?”

“Yes.”

I laugh this time. If there is one thing that’s clear, it’s this. I feel better when I’m not around Celeste. Sad really. It is time to move on. My childhood friend, my chosen brother in life, has my back and his concern is a right he’s earned, even if it makes me uncomfortable to acknowledge. I want what he’s found with his wife. I want someone who makes me smile. It’s just that simple. Alex may not have the credentials of a doctor, but he’s an ace at this psychology stuff. “I think you’re right. Again, though, I hate to admit it.”

Never lacking confidence, his smug mug is showing. “About?”

“All of it.”

With all the shit I have going on in my life, maybe the answer really is to find a woman who I want to spend time out of bed with as much as in.

Find a woman.

I dissect that phrase.

What the fuck does that even mean?

Go out and find a woman where? How?

I’m twenty-four. Should it be this hard? Can’t I just meet someone when I’m out like how I met Celeste a few months ago? Oh wait, we were set up by my brother. Asshole. His dislike for me was clear in that match.

I’m being too harsh when it comes to her. We were easy. No strings. No commitments. No promises. She was a good way to pass some time and burn some energy . . . until I heard the rumors. One of them coming from Alex, who heard she was fucking the same brother who set us up. Fuck him. He can have her for himself now.

If I cared enough, I would have made her deny what I knew was true.

But I didn’t.

Smiles are a good metaphor for women. They may be simple to come by, but genuine smiles are rare. Instead of sitting here wallowing any longer, I stand. “I’m going to bed.”

“What time are you getting up?”

“When do you need me?”

“How about two? I’ve been meaning to talk to you about the build out on the office downtown.”

“Can it wait?”

“Yeah. Before you go, I know what I said sounds cheesy, but it’s more about someone who makes you happy. You haven’t been happy in a long time, Cruise.”

“No, I haven’t.” Truth. It makes me shift, even a little itchy to admit, but I own it and don’t try to bury it by changing the subject.

He won’t dwell on feelings. That’s not something we do. “Night.”

“Morning,” he replies, laughing under his breath.

“Oh yeah. Right.”

I close my bedroom door and leave a trail of clothes behind me as I head to the bathroom and take a shower to scrub my body and brush my teeth. Not lingering under the spray, I’m in and out and in bed minutes later.

With my eyes closed, I think about what Alex said. I don’t know if he’s right or wrong. It seems kind of sappy to think a woman or a vacation can solve the discontent that has been growing inside.

Loneliness sucks. The penthouse is empty most of the time, especially since Jason left and Alex got married. Even when people are around, like he is now, I still don’t feel quite right inside.

I’m too tired to drone on with my own thoughts. Letting the darkness of the room invade, my mind clears and my muscles relax into the mattress. Pushing this train wreck of thoughts from my mind, I let my exhaustion win and fall asleep.