Sebastian
I’m zoning out on the bowl in front of me when there’s a firm banging on the door. I can’t reach the remote for the stereo, so I shout as loud as I can to come in. When I look up, I see Anna peeking her head through the doorway. She glances around the room before she spots me at my wheel and smiles brightly. She mentioned the other day that she wanted to check out my studio, so I gave her the address and she said she’d stop in one day this week after school. I nod toward the remote on my bench and shout for her to turn it down. Once Metallica becomes background noise, she holds up a small paper bag.
“I brought you a treat for later,” she says, setting the bag down on the bench. “Wow, these are incredible Sebastian.”
My chest fills with pride as she scans the wooden shelves of finished projects waiting to be boxed up. She looks at each item as if it’s more impressive than the last.
“And that smell,” she inhales deeply. “It’s so relaxing, if that makes sense?”
“I don’t think you’d be saying that if you smelled the recycle bin once it starts to mold,” I laugh.
“Hmm, yeah maybe I’ll just take your word on that one,” she grins. “So, what are you making now?”
She sits down on an old barstool, propping her elbows on the tabletop of my workbench and watches me mold the clay beneath my hands. I add more liquid to my hands and continue to support the outside with one hand while my other hand remains inside the bowl, shaping it from either side.
“Nothing fancy, just a bowl,” I say, grinning as I glance up and see her skin from the neck up tinged pink as she watches my hands. “Anna? You okay?”
“What? Yes, sorry, a bowl? That’s great,” she smiles. “Pfft, nothing fancy, he says. Don’t be so modest.”
She rolls her eyes when I look up and give her a wink. I continue to work and she continues to watch. As I’ve found over the course of the last week or so, silence between Anna and I is comfortable. I don’t feel obligated to fill it and apparently neither does she.
I slowly lift my foot from the pedal, about to ask her if she wants to order some dinner when Mason comes barging through the door.
“Get your party pants on, I’ve got a set of smoking hot cousins waiting for us down at Cinder’s,” he says proudly. He looks over at Anna as an afterthought and cringes slightly.
“Shit, sorry, I didn’t realize you had company,” he says.
“It’s fine, I should probably get going anyways,” Anna says, standing. “It’s nice to see you again Mason.”
“Hey, you don’t have to leave,” I say.
“Oh, it’s fine, I should really get home anyways. It’s been a long day. Thanks though, for letting me watch,” she says with a sincere smile.
“You should come down to Cinder’s with us,” Mason tells her.
“Nah, I think I’ll leave the set of smoking hot cousins to you two,” she grins, hoisting her bag over her shoulder and heading for the door. “Behave yourselves,” she calls out before the door shuts behind her.
“No,” Mason says with a pointed look. “I know that look, you are not bailing,” he whines.
“Man, I’m beat. I’m finishing up here and heading home to crash,” I say.
“I don’t think you’re appreciating just how hot these cousins are,” he argues.
“More for you man,” I shrug.
“Fine, I’ll take one for the team,” he says. “But I am not going to enjoy it. That’s clearly a lie. I’m going to enjoy it very much.”
“That’s the spirit,” I chuckle.
Once the door closes behind him, I open the bag Anna left on the bench and devour the Boston cream donut inside. Groaning in appreciation for my new friend and the fact that she feels obligated to feed me.
*
“So, what’s up with you and the red head?” Mason asks while he digs through my fridge for a beer.
“What do you mean?”
“Are you sleeping together?”
“No man, it’s not like that,” I say. “We’re just friends. We hang out, she cooks for me sometimes, it’s kind of nice having a woman around who doesn’t want anything from me.”
“Yeah, until she does,” he points out.
“She’s not like that. Anna’s too nice, and way too honest to pull that sneaky game playing shit,” I tell him.
“Hm, okay,” he says. “Does she have any single friends?”
“Not for your dumb ass,” I say, flicking a bottle cap at him.
It’s been two weeks since I found Anna sprawled out on the hallway floor and we basically spent that entire weekend together. We’ve been hanging out as friends on and off ever since. Being around Anna is easy. She’s nice and smart and not quite what I had her pegged as when we first met. I thought she was a drag and one of those uptight prude types at first, but after getting to know her it’s easy to see that Anna is just quiet and observant. She doesn’t make a big fuss about anything, aside from her obsession with Jamie Fraser which I learned the first time we watched Outlander together. I’d left her place after she cooked me supper and came back to an empty apartment with no desire to go out or meet up with the usual crowd down at Cinder’s. I texted her before I even realized what I was doing and ended up back over at her place where we sat on her couch and drank beer and she told me all the reasons why Jamie Fraser was the perfect fictional boyfriend.
“It’s so fucking hot in here, you need to get the AC fixed,” Mason complains. “I thought spring was supposed to be wet and rainy and shit. It’s like we’re living on the sun right now.”
“Heat wave is supposed to last until Tuesday,” I shrug. “We could go up to the roof. I’m pretty sure the old dude downstairs doesn’t even know there’s a pool up there and according to Anna the other tenants are in Florida.”
“Pool party…I like it,” he says. “I’m calling reinforcements. And by reinforcements, I mean women who wear bikinis.”
I text Anna while Mason rounds up his harem.
Me: What are you doing?
Anna: Getting ready for my date.
Me: Date?
Anna: I told you, Elle set me up. His name is Steven and we’re going to dinner.
Steven? Dinner? Why can’t I remember her telling me this shit? This guy better not be a prick. I toss my phone aside and head for the door. I rap my knuckles on Anna’s door and turn the knob, letting myself in. When the door clicks shut she calls out from her bedroom, “Why do you knock if you aren’t going to wait for me to answer?”
“Because my mom taught me manners,” I shout back. “I’m not a cave man.”
I head for the kitchen and help myself to the half empty bag of chips that I left in the cupboard the last time I was here. Our apartments are identical in layout, but Anna’s is a lot cozier than mine, and neater. She has vibrantly coloured furniture and trinkets everywhere like some kind of girly museum. And it always smells good in here.
“There’s soda in the fridge if you want,” she calls out. “AC still busted?”
“Yeah, the company couldn’t send a guy over until Monday,” I mutter, looking up. Holy shit.
I’ve seen Anna several different ways since the day I met her. I’ve seen her in her comfortable, worn out pajamas, her thick rimmed reading glasses perched on her nose. I’ve seen her wearing the brightly patterned, mismatched clothes that she’s sewn herself and I’ve seen her in plain, boring old black like the night after her sister’s exhibit. But I’ve never seen Anna look sexy. And that’s exactly how she looks right now. Sexy. As. Fuck.
Her long auburn hair is tousled, hanging well past her shoulders in a silky curtain. She’s wearing more makeup than I’ve ever seen her wear, her blue eyes popping beneath the charcoal colour surrounding them. Her dress isn’t revealing, because that isn’t her style, but it’s pink and bold and so damn tight that I can see every one of her modest curves beneath it. It’s strapless and even though the freckles on her face are hidden, the ones sprinkling the tops of her shoulders and collarbone are exposed. The dress ends just above her knees and her legs are bare. They look soft and inviting and go on longer than they should, ending in a pair of high strappy black heels. What the fuck?
“What?” she asks. “Does it look bad? I just finished it this morning, but I don’t know, do you think it’s too bright? For a first date?”
“Uh, what?”
“The dress, is it too much?” she asks.
“No. It’s fine,” I say.
“Okay. What’s with you?” She crosses her arms under her chest and plumps up her small tits, oblivious to the action.
“Nothing.”
She steps toward me and pulls a chip from the bag in my hand, popping it in her mouth before she moves to the fridge and pulls out a bottle of water.
“I think the heat is effecting you,” she says.
“Yeah, something like that.” Fuck, what the hell is wrong with me?
“So, what are you up to tonight?” she asks, before she wraps her full lips around the bottle and takes a long sip. I watch her throat as she swallows and think all kinds of impure thoughts. Goddamn.
“Pool party,” I mumble, my throat dry as hell. “Mason is next door making it happen. You should ditch your date and come swimming.”
“Ummm, no,” she says. “But you boys have fun.” She glances at the clock on the wall and rummages through her large canvas bag, pulling out items and shoving them in a smaller purse. “I should get going, I promised the Johnson’s that I’d feed their cat while they’re gone, and I didn’t have time earlier. I don’t want to be late getting to the restaurant.”
“He’s not even picking you up? What an asshole,” I grumble.
“It was my idea,” she says with a shrug. “And don’t put that bad juju out there right before I leave.”
“Like calling him an asshole is going to ruin your date?”
“Shh you,” she scolds in what I like to call her teacher voice. “Stop calling him an asshole. Why are you being so weird today?”
“I’m not being weird,” I defend. Very mature Sebastian.
I need to get the hell out of here. Seeing Anna dressed up to hang out with some dude is messing with my head. It’s obviously been too damn long since the last time I hooked up with my own date.
“Okay, whatever, we can talk about it later,” she says. “Maybe if it goes well, I’ll bring him back here and we can come up and mingle for a bit. Lock up when you leave,” she calls out as she heads for the door.
I’m still standing in her small kitchen several minutes after the door clicks shut.
What the fuck just happened?