ANDI

The next morning, I pulled on my oldest, most unfashionable and embarrassing sweats and began cleaning. It was a Big and Rich kind of day, and the music blared through the speakers my iPhone was docked to, “Save a Horse Ride a Cowboy” spilling off my lips, completely off key. Sorry, boys. My hips were swinging and I was busting out into the occasional line dance move as I continued to unpack the never ending supply of boxes and scrub down everything in sight. By lunch time, I had worked myself into a hot mess. My hair had begun to pull free of its ponytail, sweat dripped down my cheeks and back, and my clothes were covered in dust and grime. I was starving like a ravenous animal and found myself wondering if I could bring myself to eat the disgusting can of spaghetti Decker had generously brought me. The man was truly a paradox of confusing memories and Bradley’s hearsay. I had been prepared for arrogant, smug Decker who couldn’t do ‘serious’ for longer than a minute. I hadn’t been prepared for kind, sweet, thoughtful Decker though, the man who brought me pizza, helped me assemble my bookshelf, and took out the trash. I found myself curiously intrigued by the complexity of this man, and unfortunately, very much attracted to his pure, masculine beauty. I had lost count of how many times I had replayed the scene in the back room of my book store the day I arrived here. In my own dirty girl mind, I had climbed his body and wrapped my legs around his waist. Eventually we worked our way free of clothing and I found my back pressed against the wall while Decker kissed and licked at my mouth, his hard length pressing against me, creating the sweetest friction, bringing my body to life. My hot Decker moment was interrupted by the front door opening.

“Knock knock,” sang a male voice with a feminine lilt to it.

I forced away the unfamiliar tightness in my body, that throbbing need that had been absent for longer than I cared to remember. I drew out a long breath, finding my calm place before facing the voice that I was sure belonged to my new neighbor. I had met Casey my first day here. He was fascinating, flighty and lovable, and I had immediately found a kinship with him. His partner, Lionel, had been away for the last two weeks though, and I had yet to meet him. Casey had been swamped with the grooming salon on his own, so I had barely seen him for more than a distant friendly wave.

“Nobody walks into a room saying knock, knock anymore, you cock queen. It’s like I’m trapped in a never ending kiddy joke,” came an unfamiliar voice.

I jumped to my feet and peered curiously over the bookshelf. I smiled at the sight before me. Casey wore a pair of tight leather pants with an equally tight spandex shirt. His hair was a little longer on top, shaved at the sides and back in some Miley Cyrus knock off. The second man, who I assumed was Lionel, was dressed completely in white; casual cotton white pants with a silk button up white shirt and leather sandals. It seemed a little too bohemian and earthly for New York . Lionel was scowling at Casey who was ignoring him. Their eyes met mine at the same time. “There she is,” crooned Casey.

“Hi,” I whispered, a little surprised.

“Andi, I’d like you to meet the man in my life. He lacks a sense of humor, he’s far too responsible, his taste in clothing leaves a lot to be desired, and he has a fetish for collecting doilies. And for some reason, I still love him. This is Lionel,” said Casey, tilting his head Lionel’s way. “We came by to officially welcome you to the neighborhood. We brought cake.”

Casey flipped open the lid on the box, and my eyes must have grown to the size of saucers. The multilayered, chocolate heart-attack waiting to happen looked wicked enough to wipe Decker clean from my mind. I wiped my chin to make sure I wasn’t drooling.

“Hi, Lionel, it’s nice to meet you,” I said, stepping around the bookshelf, my eyes fixed on the cake.

“It’s nice to meet you too, Andi. And there is nothing wrong with the way I dress,” Lionel added, casting Casey a small frown.

As I stepped forward, the two men looked me up and down with equally impressive frowns.

“She’s got that whole Cinderella thing going on, doesn’t she?” murmured Casey.

I ignored his jab at my attire; I had a date with a cake. “Ya’ll want to come up to the studio and split that?” I nodded to the cake. Both men nodded and smiled as they followed me to the stairs that led to my apartment.

“You really shouldn’t just invite strangers into your home,” Lionel said with a shaking of his finger.

“Well, I’ve already met Casey, so he’s not a stranger, and I’m assuming my virtue is safe as you’re both gay, right?” I asked matter-of-factly.

“Whatever gave it away?” Casey gasped with sarcasm.

I glanced over my shoulder as they followed me up the stairs. “Well, if the cock queen comment on your entry didn’t give it away, the spandex would have.”

As we stepped into my apartment, the men began inspecting everything like a scientist might a new species of bug.

“I’ve been begging Casey to give up the spandex for years. He’s like a dog with a bone though; once he grabs hold of something, he just refuses to put it down.”

“Spandex is a privilege, not a right. So while I’m privileged enough to pull it off, I might as well. And, as I recall, you don’t mind when I play with your bone,” purred Casey.

I coughed, trying to disguise my bark of laughter as I found some plates in one of the many unpacked boxes. I also managed to find a knife and quickly dissected the chocolate heaven into three slices and plated it up. As I handed Lionel his he looked aghast.

“You’re going to eat all of that?” he asked, surprised.

I shoved a spoonful of cake in my mouth and groaned loudly. “Uh huh,” was all I could manage.

“Where on earth do you put it?” Casey asked seriously as he looked me over. I was small, and I had a fast metabolism. As a teenager, I had bordered on ridiculously skinny and had been the butt of many toothpick jokes. I secretly hoped those perfectly rounded teenage bodies were now huge and unhappy.

“Leave the girl alone, you shrew,” chastised Lionel as he sat at my small kitchen table. “I love this setting, shabby chic, very fashionable.”

“Ohhh, you’ve got one of those vintage refrigerators. It’s adorable!” squealed Casey, opening the fridge to show Lionel how modern it was inside.

“If you need any help with this,” Lionel glanced around at my boxes, “just say the word.”

“What Lionel means is, as well as his doily fetish, he harbors a small obsession for organization and systematic structure and arrangement.”

The spoon froze on its way to my mouth.

“I like to organize things. There is nothing wrong with an orderly and functional home,” Lionel explained, giving Casey a hard look.

“He’s a neat freak,” Casey murmured out the corner of his mouth as he continued to flutter about the apartment, glancing in boxes. “I love this bed.” He grinned. “You sleep there all alone?”

I raised a brow at his too forward line of questioning.

“Ever the subtle one,” sighed Lionel.

“What I meant to say is will that fine piece of man-candy who’s popped by a couple of times be staying over often?”

I almost choked on my cake. After I finished coughing, I shook my head. “No, that’s Decker. He’s just a friend.”

“A friend who you might have over to play poker?” Casey waggled his eyebrows. “Get it, poke-her?” he persisted, making a circle with his thumb and pointer finger, sticking his other pointer finger through it. It was so crude and adolescent, I couldn’t help but laugh.

“No, not that kind of poker, Decker is a friend without benefits.”

Lionel and Casey both grinned wickedly.

“Is he gay?” they both asked in unison then immediately scowled at each other.

“You guys are together, right?” I asked, wondering about their interest in Decker.

“We are, seven years this Christmas.” Casey gave Lionel a wicked smile, and Lionel blushed. The genuine look of love and friendship was clearly evident in their adoring gazes. There was a connection there, a bond. I sighed out loud.

“Damn, don’t look at each other like that. It just makes me feel pathetic and miserable.”

Casey snorted. “So, you’re single?” I nodded. “Then why is Decker a friend without benefits then? Is he married?” I shook my head. “Is he a drug dealer? Murderer? Pimp? Does he have erectile dysfunction?” I shook my head again and no doubt blushed at the recollection of Decker’s highly functioning member against my body. “Then why on earth does that slice of heaven not come with benefits?”

“We’ve known each other a really long time, even though we haven’t seen each other in a really long time. So we’re old friends, but pretty much strangers.” Wow, that sounded really confusing in my head. “And I just moved here and left behind a triage of failed relationships, I think I’m going to try abstinence.”

Lionel and Casey sucked back a startled gasp.

“Don’t speak blasphemy,” scoffed Casey. “An adorable little stunner like you shouldn’t have any trouble having the vayjay tuned regularly. Lionel and I will help you find a technician.” Lionel nodded in agreement.

“Oh no you don’t, I’m not a charity case that needs to be fixed up. As for my vayjay, well, it will do just fine without male intervention. I have a technician and he runs on batteries.”

It was Lionel’s turn to choke on the cake.

“While I have nothing against battery operated loving, I also know for a fact that nothing compares to the real thing. I should know, I have the real thing and so does my boyfriend,” said Casey with a serious expression. Oh god, I shook my head and laughed. “You know, we are going to be great friends,” he said with a genuine smile.

I had no doubt that we would be great friends. He was forward, brash, and excitable, everything I looked for in friend.

“Stop it. You’re scaring the girl, you fralker,” snapped Lionel.

“Fralker?” I dared ask.

“Someone who is constantly stalking for friends,” Lionel explained.

“Ooookayyyy.” I drew out. “So, I’m like your fralkee or something?” Both Lionel and Casey stared at me like I had grown a second head. “It’s like a word mash up. Employee, stalkee, friend…ee…”

Casey shook his head and tsked me. “A lot to learn, yes you do, my Padawan. So, explain to me in simple terms why Mr. Tall, Strong, and Fuckable is unattainable.”

I groaned and banged my head on the table in front of me. “We are friends,” I growled out. They both stared at me.

“Every girl needs a friend who will laugh at her and with her, the fact he could also give her orgasms is a bonus,” Casey said so matter-of-factly.

“His best friend is practically my brother!” I shouted.

Lionel leaned towards Casey and whispered, “I’m not seeing the problem here.”

“He’s got some sketchy job that requires nudity and he won’t tell me about it.”

The men’s eyes seemed to grow with excitement.

“He’s a stripper?” Casey burst out.

“He says no, but I’m thinking maybe.” I was chewing on my nails now, a sure sign of anxiety.

“Ohhhhh,” groaned Casey in an almost orgasmic way. “She’s got her very own Magic Mike. Do you have any idea how sexy it will be when he dances just for you?” It was my turn to flat out stare. “Okay, okay, so he’s got some secrets, that’s mysterious and sexy, not a problem.”

“We should have a party,” Lionel exclaimed, and Casey literally jumped from his chair and began dancing around the room.

“O…M…G.!” OMG? Who talks like that? “I knew I loved you for a reason. Come on, we need to start planning.” Casey dragged Lionel from his chair. I was assaulted with air kisses and the men disappeared out of my apartment on a breeze of mind boggling, gay enthusiasm. I had no idea what had just happened or what they were planning, but I just knew it would end up being awkward for me.

*

It was three days before I saw Decker again. I had been tempted more than once to call him, especially when I decided to sort through the boxes in the back storeroom that were littered with rat poop. Instead, I made Lionel come over and rat-check everything for me. I had pushed the three large boxes of my dad’s paperbacks to one corner; I wasn’t ready to deal with them just yet. The one year anniversary of his death was only two short weeks away. I just needed to get through that and then I would think about putting memories of him on display.

The day Decker decided to drop by unannounced, I, of course, had to be standing on the top of a ladder in a tiny pair of denim cut offs that sat precariously below my ass. I was sweating like a whore in church as my air conditioner was out, so the front of my shirt ended up tied in a knot right under my breasts in an effort to get some cool air on my skin. With a wet paintbrush in hand, I was reaching for a high spot, the paint balanced on the top rung of the ladder. Stretched on tippy-toes and singing loudly to Carrie Underwood’s “All-American Girl”, I didn’t notice the front door open.

“Sweet mother of…” came a voice from behind me.

I pulled my arm down too fast and knocked the can of paint down. In my attempt to rescue the entire can and making one hell of a mess, I lost my balance. Just when I thought I was about to fall out of my New York dream, two very big hands grabbed my thighs, steadying me.

“Fuck, Country, I thought you were a goner for a moment there,” laughed Decker. As my heart pounded like a scared rabbit, I glanced down at his big hands still wrapped firmly around my thighs, right under my ass. “Well, this is nice,” he murmured with a very satisfied smile on his lips.

“I’m okay,” I said way too fast to get away with indifference to his touch.

Decker chuckled but slowly released his hold on me. “Get down from there and let me do that.”

I climbed down the ladder, and when my feet were firmly planted on the ground, I risked looking at him. Cheese and rice, the man was a walking orgasm. Dressed in a pair of tattered old jeans and a Yankees jersey pulled dangerously tight across his chest, I couldn’t help but roll my eyes at how utterly perfect he looked dressed down.

“What are you doing here?” I asked.

“I’m here to help. I’ll be your slave for a day. Put me to work because tomorrow I might not be so willing.” With a paint brush in hand, I just stared. Impatience got the better of him and he finally grabbed the brush from my hand and climbed the ladder. “The back of my car is full of shit from my dad’s. I even managed to scrounge up a second hand oven that will be dropped off later today.”

“How much?” I asked, my eyes glued to the taut, impressive ass hidden under that thin denim.

“Sixty for the oven, the building materials were all scraps bound for the trash and the tools are on loan.” He easily reached the high spot with the brush, his shirt rising just enough to give me a teasing glimpse of the smooth skin sitting between his jeans and the shirt.

“Oh,” was all my lust riddled brain could manage.

“Yoohoo, Cinderella, are you in here…” Casey’s voice trailed off, and I somehow managed to reign in a derisive snort. Casey and Lionel had been on Decker watch all week. They would have noticed him the moment he pulled onto the street. “Ohhhh, I didn’t realize you had company.” He smirked.

I rolled my eyes. “Decker, this is Casey and the one about to run through the door like an out of condition cross trainer is Lionel. They own the dog grooming business next door.”

Lionel burst through the front door, panting. Casey extended his hand which I noticed had a business card in it.

“LC’s Day Spa, for your furry four legged babies that is,” Casey said all professional-like as Decker took the card. “If your baby needs some attention, you call us.” Casey was trying too hard to sound both sexy and professional, and it came off sounding awkward.

I tried really hard not to laugh. What burst from my lips was something between a snort and a cough, and Casey gave me a your-gonna-get-it look as I tried to muffle the laughter. Lionel just rolled his eyes.

“Thanks, but I don’t have a pet.” Decker admitted. “Not that I have anything against pets; I wasn’t one of those lonely weird kids who pulled the legs off spiders and wings off flies. I had a cat.” He gave me a wink and both Casey and Lionel made loud sounds of approval.

“A pussy man, figures,” I heard Casey whisper.

“Was there something you guys needed?” I quickly interrupted.

They both shook their heads, their eyes falling to Decker’s ass as he turned to resume painting. Lionel elbowed Casey in the ribs.

“Oh, of course. We’re having a small get together tomorrow night. We’ve invited a few others on the street, and we think it would be a good chance for you to meet some of the locals. Perhaps you would like to come? And bring a date?” Casey said not so subtly.

Decker leaned against the wall and grinned my way. “You need a date?” he asked.

“No, I don’t need a date.” I glared at Casey. “I don’t need a date, do I?” My eyes were now beseeching Lionel who I assumed, being the older and wiser of the two, would give me a break. He in turn simply nodded.

“Of course you need a date.” My eyes darted from Lionel to Casey then back to Decker.

“I’ll be your date, Country,” Decker said with a grin.

Casey all but bounced up and down clapping his hands like one of those crazy stuffed monkeys that smash symbols together. Lionel looked proud as punch.

“Excellent. Six tomorrow and bring an appetizer,” Casey said hurriedly as Lionel hauled him towards the door. “I mean something other than your eye candy.”

I was mortified and blushing. Eventually I found the courage to look back at Decker. He was trying, unsuccessfully, to hold back laughter.

“What if I want to be the appetizer?” He laughed.

“You might just end up in a Casey and Lionel sandwich,” I mumbled.

Decker turned back to the paint, and I tried really hard to ignore the sexy man who had suddenly made the room seem too small. When Bradley had told me Decker was going to pick me up from the airport, I had straight up said no way. Decker had always been too much for me. Too handsome, too arrogant, too confident. He made me feel even more inadequate than every taunting school kid, and there had been lots of them. His perfection only intensified my imperfections. I shook off the feelings of inadequacy. I was a grown woman now, an adult with a college degree, my own bookstore, and an apartment. I didn’t care what others thought anymore; my life was about embracing life and taking chances. A long time had passed since high school and I had learned a lot. College had helped me develop a lick of confidence, and even though Decker seemed to remind me of the bumbling, awkward teenager I once was, I was now a confident, beautiful woman. My eyes were drawn back to the impressive ass of Decker. My female appreciation for him had not lessened in the fourteen years since I had last seen him.

And it didn’t go unnoticed that Decker found some appreciation in me now, even if it had been painfully obvious he hadn’t noticed me as a teenager. It did wonders for a woman’s soul and ego to catch a man checking her out. However, I needed to pull my head out of my ass and zip up my heart. My infatuation with Decker Steele needed to end now. He was the kind of man who led to heartache, and I had endured enough heart ache to complete several seasons of a bad soap opera. I needed to have my wits about me where Decker was concerned, because if I wasn’t careful, I would end up doing something stupid, like fall in love with him.