Xavier
“What can I get for you?” the perky redhead asked from the opposite side of the counter. I was too busy looking for Morgan to even consider the menu.
“Is Morgan working?” I asked and the girl’s smile faltered.
“She comes in at four,” she said, still staring back at me with curiosity. “Are you a friend?”
I lifted my phone to check the time and was disappointed to see it was just a little after two.
“Did you need me to make you something?” the girl asked when I didn't answer her earlier question.
“Yeah,” I replied, tucking my phone back in my pocket. “I’ll take a number four.”
I stood quietly while she made my sandwich and wrapped it up. “Anything else?”
“That’s good,” I told her as I moved toward the cash register.
After paying for my food, I moved toward the far corner and found a small booth. I wasn't really hungry, but I couldn't just sit here without ordering something.
I spent the next hour working on a paper I had due next week. My phone buzzed on the table next to me, and as I opened the message, I did my best to hide my laughter. A picture of Red, holding Isaac in a bear hug. But the funny part was the makeup Red wore. It would appear that Isaac had gotten his revenge on Red, finally.
“What are you doing here?”
I looked up to see none other than Morgan standing next to my table. Her arms were crossed over her chest and she didn’t seem pleased to see me.
“Eating a sub,” I offered, holding up the sandwich still wrapped in the paper. “What are you doing here?” I said in return, acting surprised.
“Don’t play dumb, it doesn't look good on you.” She lowered her hands. “Cora already told me you were looking for me. You’ve been here for over an hour already and you haven’t touched your food.”
“Sit down.” I motioned toward the opposite side of the booth. “I remember you being much more friendly the last time we met.”
“Well, considering you couldn’t even remember where you left your shoe, I’d say your memory isn’t the greatest. I could have been a raging bitch then too, and you wouldn’t have known any different.” She arched her eyebrow, daring me to argue.
“That may have been true at first, but I can assure you things have come back to me slowly. Memories and visions, words spoken; it’s all right here,” I said, tapping on the side of my head with my fingertip.
She didn’t look convinced.
I leaned in a little closer, assuring that those around us wouldn’t hear what I was about to tell her. “You have this birth mark, on the inside of your left thigh,” I whispered. “It looks like a diamond almost. I remember it very explicitly. I remember it because I spent quite some time between those thighs, kissing and tasting.”
She swallowed hard, yet didn’t take her eyes from mine. They narrowed slightly, her lips pressed together as she tried her best to appear unaffected by my words.
It was her turn to lean in, but I didn’t retreat. I quite enjoyed our closeness.
“Are these the same stories you shared with your friends when you got home the next day?” she asked, her question surprising me. “Did you give them details about the easy girl you spent the night with? Did you tell them how I begged for more, how I couldn’t get enough?”
“I didn’t tell them anything.” I was a bit thrown off by the direction this conversation had taken.
“It was one night, a night that was completely out of character for me. But I did it and that moment has passed.” Morgan stood tall once more. “I gave you stories to share when you all sit around and talk about the easy girls you hooked up with at parties. I told you that next morning that it wouldn't happen again and I meant it.”
She started to turn away and I reached out instinctively to grab her forearm. Her eyes settled on the place my hand was and her nostrils flared. Standing from the booth, I stepped in closer and released her arm. “I don’t know why you seem so angry, but I can assure you that I haven’t shared any details about our night with the guys. The only reason they knew I left with anyone is because they saw us walk out together. The claw marks on my back and the hickeys on my neck were the only proof they had the next day.”
She looked up at me, still looking as if she didn’t quite believe me.
“I didn’t share anything with anyone. That night is ours,” I stated. “I came here today looking for you because since that night I can’t think of much else. I know you said you didn’t have time for dating, but I just wanted you to know that I’d be willing to take whatever I could get.”
I leaned back toward the table and grabbed my book and notebook, leaving the sandwich behind. As I turned back to face her, she still watched me close.
I wasn’t sure if it was the right move, but I didn’t let my racing heart stop me. I leaned in and pressed a kiss to her cheek. “I’m not that guy, Morgan,” I whispered. “I’m not an asshole.”
I didn’t wait for her response before slipping past her and walking out the door.
Stepping out onto the sidewalk, I finally took in a deep breath. My head was spinning and my heart still felt like it was going to beat right out of my chest.
Things were always easy with Britney, even when we first started dating. I asked after she threw out all the signals. She was interested, it was obvious. After that things went smooth for us, for the most part anyway. Now looking back, I’ve realized she was clingy and jealous, controlling and possessive. But I’d never had to work for much.
Morgan was a mystery, a challenge.
My father always told me that the biggest things in life never come easy, you have to work for them. I was willing to work for Morgan and willing to prove that I wasn’t the jerk she thought I was.
I may have only had one night with her, but her smile was etched in my mind. Most of it was still a little sketchy, but her gorgeous green eyes with small flecks of gold and that laugh was something I knew without a doubt I could never wipe clean from my memories. Our night together was nothing short of amazing. One imperfect, unforgettable night that I couldn’t walk away from. All I needed was just one chance to show Morgan that we could be more than a one night stand.
***
“What the fuck, man,” I grumbled as I stepped out of my bedroom and tripped over something just outside. It was still dark outside, which made it hard to see. What I do know is whatever, or whoever it was, it still remained in the doorway of my room.
Nudging the figure once again, a little harder this time, caused a deep, displeased growl.
I had given up being shocked or surprised about the events that took place in this house. Nothing was unexpected.
I didn’t push too hard to figure out why someone chose to sleep in the center of the hallway instead of their bed. I figured they had a reason. Instead, I moved past them toward the bathroom.
Just as I was about to exit, I heard a loud shriek. It sounded more like a girl, which set off alarms in my mind. I hurried from the bathroom and rounded the corner toward the scream, only to come to a screeching halt. There on the floor just outside my room was not only the figure I had stepped over, but also Red. The hallway light had been turned on, which confirmed the figure was actually Clayton wrapped tight in his sleeping bag, only his head poking out of the top.
“What the hell is going on with you guys?” I asked, still completely confused about this entire ordeal. “Why are you sleeping in the hall?” I asked Clayton before turning my curious stare back to Red. “And why are you standing over him with a pitcher of…” I paused, looking at the jug he held in his hand. “Is that Kool-Aid?”
“Yes,” Red said, shrugging. “It’s all I could find to dump on this asshole.”
I lifted my hand up and ran it over my face in an exasperated manner. It was the fucking twilight zone; I could swear it. It was too damn early for that shit.
“He put cooking oil all over my floor and I got up to take a piss, and about broke my neck.” Red added as I lowered my hand. “I slid and fumbled, fuck, I almost went right through my damn door. A man of my size should never attempt the fucking splits, man.” A look of horror took over his face.
I tried not to laugh, but imagining what he described made it hard to keep a straight face. Red was a big guy.
“Well, you put puddin’ in my fucking bed,” Clayton interrupted, his deep southern twang echoing throughout the hall. He was still wrapped up in his sleeping bag, attempting to hide from Red and his pitcher of red Kool-Aid.
I looked up at Red and arched an eyebrow. “Pudding?”
He only nodded his head as if that was the most normal thing in the world.
“So I oiled up his floor as payback,” Clayton’s mumbled words filled the silence.
“Yeah, and now I’m gonna drench his ass.” Red announced as he held the pitcher high.
“Can the two of you just move this to another area? It’s too early, and if you both want to continue on with this bullshit, don’t do it right outside my room.” I stepped over Clayton and shook my head at Red as I stepped inside my room and closed my door behind me.
I heard a few muffled words, followed by Clayton’s screeching just before Red broke out in deep guttural laughter.
Asshole dumped that shit right outside my room.
I loved the guys, I really did, but I was beginning to think I needed a place more peaceful and civilized. I lived with a bunch of damn animals.