CHAPTER EIGHT
AMBER
Annabelle was helping me look through the clearance table at Victoria’s Secret.
“So, I’m looking for size extra large, right?”
“Right,” I said as I mindlessly sifted through the pile of lace undies.
“You’re not even listening. You’re not extra large. You’re barely a small. Your head is somewhere else.” She picked up a tiny piece of fabric. “What about this thong?”
“I don’t wear thongs. I don’t like the string. It feels funny in my ass.”
“Get used to saying that,” she joked.
“Are you kidding me right now?”
“Yes, of course, I am—sort of. Seriously, though, are you nervous?”
Throwing a pair of zebra print panties across the pile, I said, “Yes. I am. I’ve considered cancelling, but then I remind myself that I don’t have to go through with it if I’m not feeling it when I meet him.”
“That’s a good plan. And make sure you have condoms. Several.”
“I’m sure he has those.”
“Yeah, but you never know. Buy the best kind and insist on using yours. You don’t know where his have been stored. Make sure you buy lubricated.”
“For someone who was pushing me into this, you seem more worried than me. And that’s freaking me out.” I threw some beige underpants at her. “Stop it.”
“I kind of am worried. To be honest, I never thought you’d actually go through with it. You really surprised me. I talk a good game, but I think what you’re doing takes balls. And I’m proud of you for taking control of your sexual needs.”
“Lower your voice,” I whispered.
“Everything is going to be fine, Amber.”
God, I sure hoped I was doing the right thing for myself.
After racking up a two-hundred dollar bill, I left the store with a large, pink-striped bag filled with a multitude of thongs and other lingerie.
Annabelle and I parted ways out front as she headed toward the train station.
I opted to walk home since my house wasn’t that far from the Downtown Crossing shopping area. A long, brisk walk sounded like just what the doctor ordered. Dried-up autumn leaves crunched under my Ugg boots as I strolled.
Cutting through the Boston Common, I glanced over at the swan boats, trying to forget about thoughts of riding on them with Rory.
Then, I nearly lost my breath when I saw him.
Channing?
It was.
He was sitting on a bench, talking to a tall, gorgeous brunette. She looked like the kind of girl who women loved to hate and a perfect match for Channing looks-wise. Her hair was long, the strands blowing toward him in the wind as they engaged in what looked liked an intense conversation. Her chestnut hair contrasted her fair skin, which accentuated her plump, red lips. Wearing dark, tapered jeans that looked like they were painted onto her legs and high-heeled boots, she basically looked like a supermodel.
They were seated very close to one another, their bodies turned inward, and their legs touching. I could feel the heat in my body rise. This shouldn’t have upset me. I knew Channing probably picked up women in public all of the time. But this was the first time I’d ever witnessed it. And my reaction was really telling.
Really, Amber? You have a sack full of lingerie so you can have sordid sex with a male prostitute on Saturday, and you’re considering hiding from Channing because you’re upset he’s talking to a girl? Grow up.
Giving myself a mental kick in the ass, I marched over to where they were seated but then stopped just short of where he could see me.
Channing wasn’t acting like his normal smiling, flirtatious self. The tone of their exchange seemed serious.
He suddenly glanced over and saw me before I could opt to slip away unnoticed.
Channing instinctively moved his body away from the woman when he said, “Amber…”
Taking a few steps forward, I put on my best, fake smile. “Hey.”
“What are you up to?” he asked.
Shrugging, I said, “Just did a little shopping. Now, I’m headed back home.”
His eyes were glued to my shopping bag. He was probably wondering why I’d gone to Victoria’s Secret when my vagina was more dried-up than a desert.
“Looks like more than a little shopping.”
“Yeah, well, gotta have underwear, right?”
“Right.” He turned to his lady friend.” Uh…Amber, this is Emily. Emily, this is my friend Amber, the one I’m living with.”
Emily?
THE Emily?
I looked between them, wondering if I’d heard correctly. “Emily?”
His eyes were telling me not to mention that he’d spoken of her to me. So, yeah, it was definitely that Emily.
“Yes,” he said.
Emily smiled. Of course, her teeth were just as perfect as everything else. “Nice to meet you, Amber.”
“What brought you two to the Common?” I asked.
“We’re just catching up.”
Wow, I had so many questions, but they were going to have to wait.
“Great. Well, I’ll leave you two to…catch up, then.”
“I’ll see you at home later,” he said.
“Yep. See you later.” I turned to her. “Really nice to meet you, Emily.”
Not.
“Same.” She smiled.
I started to walk away. So flustered, I wasn’t paying attention when a man walking his dog knocked into me. The leash ended up wrapped around my leg as the dog yelped like crazy. The animal then began tearing into my shopping bag with his teeth.
Channing and Emily were still looking over at me when all of my lingerie fell out of the now entirely ripped bag. The thongs and other pieces were strewn about the grass.
This was mortifying.
The owner apologized, but the damage had been done.
They had seen the entire thing unfold. Channing got up off the bench and promptly began to help me pick up my underwear off the ground.
I couldn’t even look at him as he handed them to me. “I can just put them in my purse. Thank you.”
When all of the panties were safely in my leather satchel, my eyes finally met his.
He looked concerned. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. That was really weird.” I glanced over at Emily and whispered, “This is interesting? What brought her back into the picture?”
“Yeah. She texted me out of the blue and asked me to meet here.”
“Wow. Is she still with that guy?”
“No. They broke up.”
Why was my stomach churning?
“I see. Well, I don’t want to keep you. Enjoy the rest of the afternoon.”
He looked like he wanted to say something else but instead just answered with, “You, too.”
***
Once home, I found it very difficult to concentrate. All I could think about was what Channing and Emily were doing.
Tonight was my night off from working with Milo, but I almost wished that weren’t the case. I could have used a distraction from the thoughts floating around in my head.
Between my upcoming rendezvous on Saturday, to my irrational feelings of jealousy, my mind was all over the place.
A couple of hours later, I was just about to head to bed when Channing walked in.
I straightened up on the couch. “Hey.”
“Hi.” He plopped down next to me, smelling like cold air and cologne. He turned to me, and we just looked at each other for a bit, silently acknowledging the awkward run-in from earlier.
Examining him closely, I tried to figure out whether he looked different—namely whether he looked like he’d had sex. His hair was rustled. That could have been from the wind, or it could have been from her hands running through it. His lips were red. That could have been from the cold, or it could have been from her kiss. Images of him hovering over the sexy brunette flashed through my mind. Even the idea of him having sex with her turned me on, and that was a little disturbing.
I told myself I wasn’t going to pry—unless he wanted to offer the information. But a part of me needed to know how the Emily thing came about, what he was thinking—whether he had fucked her. Everything. I needed to know everything.
Well, maybe I could pry a little.
My heart sped up as I initiated the conversation. “How was your date?”
“It wasn’t really a date. It was just a meetup.”
“So, what happened? I thought she was out of the picture.”
“You and me both.” He chuckled, then let out a deep sigh before rubbing his eyes. Then, he looked at me. “After you and I came home from taking Milo out the other night, I realized I’d missed a text from her. She messaged me because she saw I was in Boston from my Instagram. I rarely post anything, but I’d posted a shot from Quincy Market. She said she’d been thinking about me for a while and wanted me to know that she ended things with her boyfriend. She asked if we could meet.”
“So, she broke up with him? The guy she went back to while she was seeing you?”
“Yup. Apparently, she says it’s for good this time.”
“What else did she say to you?”
“She said the feelings she had for me scared her at the time and that her running back to him was like a safety net. She said she didn’t fully trust that I was ready for a relationship because I hadn’t had any serious girlfriends. But she claims she couldn’t stop thinking about me and that she regretted ending things and not taking a chance. She never planned to contact me, because she figured I wouldn’t want to see her. She took my being in Boston as a sign that she should get in touch with me.”
The jealousy meter was definitely off the charts at this point. I didn’t know what to say. “Wow.”
“Yeah. I honestly didn’t expect to hear from her ever again.”
“How do you feel about all of this?”
He blew out a breath. “I don’t know. The whole thing is sort of complicated. I still have feelings for her and I’m very attracted to her, but at the same time, I’m going back to Chicago, too, you know? Then, there’s the issue of not being able to really forget how she abruptly ended things. That left a bitter taste. I’m trying not to overthink it. I guess I’ll just have to see how things go while I’m here.”
A small part of me was happy that Channing had a second chance with the one girl he’d truly connected with. It felt like fate, him ending up in Boston and getting to rekindle things with her. But I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t extremely jealous. I’d probably always be envious of any woman who could be with Channing in that way.
My stomach was unsettled, but I did my best to offer sound advice despite my biased discomfort. “I don’t blame you for being cautious. Just take one day at a time.” I needed water. I got up and walked toward the kitchen while still talking to him. “Where did you go after the Common?”
He followed me. “You mean after we stopped talking about my awkward friend with the mutilated bag of underwear?”
Taking out a glass and filling it, I laughed. “Did I embarrass you?”
He leaned into the counter. “I’m just messing with you. We did laugh about it after you left, though. I told her a little about our friendship and history. Then, we left the Common and grabbed a bite to eat at Fuddruckers. After dinner, I walked her to the train. She hopped on the commuter rail. She lives in Waltham.”
“Did you kiss her?” I spit out.
“Once. Before she got on the train.”
My face felt flush at the thought of that, and I wondered if my jealousy was transparent. I hoped not. I just kept staring at him for a bit. “I see.”
That prompted him to ask, “Something else you want to ask?”
“When are you seeing her again?”
“I’m supposed to see her tomorrow night. But to be honest, I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”
“You don’t completely trust her?”
“I’m not sure. But honestly, I don’t know if I want anything serious with anyone—even her. My frame of mind isn’t exactly the same as it was when I met her. Stuff has happened since then. I don’t know what I want anymore.”
I wondered what stuff he was referring to.
“Well, she’s really beautiful. I can see why you’re drawn to her.”
“She is.” He smiled, unable to deny that. “Any other questions?”
“No. That’ll be all for tonight.”
He leaned his back against the counter and crossed his arms. “So…any particular reason why you were stocking up on panties, Walnut?”
“Can’t let a good sale go to waste.”
He lifted his brow. “That’s it?”
My face felt hot. “Yeah.”
He was searching my eyes. “Okay…”
I swallowed, feeling very uncomfortable. I didn’t like lying to him, but telling him why I’d really purchased the underwear was not an option.
“Oh, check this out,” he said, taking out his phone. “We ran into Steven Tyler from Aerosmith downtown. He was just standing around talking to people, so we snapped a few photos.”
“That’s so cool!”
“I’m gonna go change,” he suddenly said before leaving me with his phone to peruse the photos.
In one of the shots, Emily and Channing were on each side of Steven Tyler. I couldn’t tell which one of them had the more gorgeous smile.
I sighed.
As I tried to zoom in, I accidentally hit something that brought me to an index of photo albums categorized by year. Randomly, I clicked on 2015.
Big mistake.
I came upon something I never should have seen: a series of dick pics.
OhmygodOhmygodOhmygod.
There in all of its glory was Channing’s beautiful cock, just as thick and magnificent as I might have, on occasion, imagined it to be. The crown was perfectly rounded and in perfect proportion to the shaft, his golden skin slightly veined yet smooth. And it was long. Really long and thick.
In the three photos, you could see the base of his tatted, carved V along with the thin line of hair forming a path down to his crotch.
Footsteps!
I freaked out as I heard him approach and accidentally dropped the phone onto the ground. He landed right in front of it, picking it up, and putting it in his pocket. “Whoa, be careful, butterfingers.”
Oh, no.
I froze because I didn’t know if it was going to open right up to the photo of his cock the next time he checked it. Had I somehow exited out? I didn’t think so.
“How about a late dinner?” he asked.
“Didn’t you already have something while you were out?”
“I’m still hungry. If I make something, will you eat?”
“Sure.”
He examined my face, seeming to notice that something was off. “You alright?”
“Yes,” I lied.
Unable to look at him for the time being, I went to the couch in the living room and prayed that I’d dodged a bullet while Channing cooked us something. I didn’t want to be in the kitchen if he happened to look down at his phone.
Several minutes later, he called out from the kitchen, “Food’s ready!”
When I took a seat at the table, I immediately noticed that his phone was now out and on the counter. That meant he’d likely checked it if he’d taken it out of his pocket. So, the damage was either done or had been averted.
He was acting totally normal, so I breathed a little sigh of relief as we dug into our food.
This was fine.
Maybe he didn’t notice.
Maybe I had closed out of it.
Just eat and forget about it.
Yeah, right.
I looked down at the meal in front of me. “This is…interesting.”
“It’s something I’ve wanted to make for a while. It’s melted chocolate cheese pizza.”
“Kill two birds with one stone. Dinner and dessert,” I said as I tried to remain calm.
It actually turned out to be really good. The tangy cheese and sweet chocolate atop the crispy crust made for an unexpectedly tasty contrast. Leave it to Channing to figure out the culinary potential in that unusual combination.
He was looking at me intently when he asked, “How did you like it?”
“It was delicious. Thank you.”
He leaned in and crossed his arms. His voice was low. “I was referring to my dick.”
The food caught in my throat. “Excuse me?”
“You were looking at a picture of my dick earlier, weren’t you? It was open on my phone.”
The pizza felt like it was coming up on me. “Uh…I can explain…”
His brow lifted. “Yeah?”
“I wasn’t looking for those pictures...I swear. I was looking at Steven Tyler then hit a button and the next thing I knew, it was 2015 and cockapalooza.”
He started to crack up as he rubbed his eyes. “Cockapalooza…”
“I’m mortified.”
When his laughter died down, he said, “I’m the one who should be embarrassed, not you.”
“Trust me, you have nothing to be embarrassed about.”
Those words exited my mouth before I could think better of saying them.
Great. I’d basically just complimented him on his cock.
“Well, thank you.” He slid his phone toward me. “And if you think I have nothing but dick pics on my phone, feel free to scroll through everything. I’m pretty sure you found the one hidden gem in the lot.”
I hit the cock lottery, apparently.
I slid his phone back toward him. “Lucky me. Anyway, do you think it’s possible to never mention this again?”
“But you’re so cute when you’re embarrassed. Seeing as though I’m not very cute, however, when I’m embarrassed…we can agree to forget this ever happened.”
The fact that he actually seemed uncomfortable about this took me by surprise.
“Thanks.”
“No problem.” Channing surprised me with his next question as he changed the subject. “So, what do you think I should do about Emily?”
We’re on this subject again? I would probably rather talk about the dick pic than her.
“You’re asking me?”
“Why not? I trust your opinion probably more than anyone’s.”
He’d totally stumped me. I wanted to tell him that she didn’t deserve him, that she’d had her chance. But then I had to wonder if that answer was influenced by my selfish need to not have to witness him with her over the next several weeks. People make mistakes. They misjudge. Everyone deserves a second chance. Right? Still, the right answer was unclear to me.
“I’m not sure what to tell you. I think you should honestly do what’s in your heart. I do believe everyone deserves at least one second chance, though.”
He kept staring into my eyes then said, “Like the one you plan to give Rory.”
“Rory isn’t asking for one.”
“Yet.”
“I don’t know what I would do if he did, to be honest. I mean, how can you ever trust someone who left you once?”
He crossed his arms. “I know what my advice to you would be if he ever came back.”
“You’d tell me not to take him back.”
“You deserve better than someone who’s stupid enough to throw you away once.”
“Why wouldn’t the same apply to you, then?”
“I guess I don’t see my situation with Emily in the same way. We’d barely gotten started. I’d also given her no real indication that I was ready for a relationship, even though I might have been leaning in that direction. And looking back, I don’t think things had completely ended with her boyfriend. So, all things considered…I do think the situation is a lot different than yours.”
“Makes sense. You didn’t have a long history like I did with Rory. He was my first…everything. And I thought he’d be my last. It’s hard to break away from the future I’d envisioned. I’m doing everything I can to try. But overall, I feel very lost.”
Way to change the subject over to Rory, Amber.
He took a while to respond then leaned in. “You’re placing value on the distorted idea that the decision he made somehow reflects on you. It doesn’t. You’re still you, and you have your whole life ahead of you. Fuck him.”
His words were momentarily empowering. He always had a way of making me feel better even if it was only fleeting. I placed my hand on his arm. “Thank you. I needed that.”
He was staring at me for a bit before he said, “You said that Rory was your first…everything.” Channing squinted his eyes like he was challenging me. “You sure about that?”
My heart began to flutter. Was he getting at what I thought he was getting at?
“Not your first kiss, though,” he said.
He was getting at that.
I. Could. Not. Believe. He. Brought. This. Up.
It was never something that Channing and I discussed. It was almost like a dream. In fact, I sometimes doubted whether he even remembered or whether it even really took place. We were in such a fog that night. But it still happened. And it was a moment I could never forget.
I finally replied, “No. You were my first kiss.”