I stretched out on my bed, working out the kinks that had accumulated from the night. Just before I’d gone to bed, Liam had texted me that Webb was coming in late – later than what he’d planned.
As I stood up, I scanned my room, Webb’s guest room. It wasn’t an easy feat, convincing him that I could stay in my dorm room at least twice a week. He had relented because my father finally intervened and I thought that the arrangement was working out pretty well.
I stepped into the bathroom that now held my personal toiletries. It was now filled with light green rugs and small peach-colored accents, things that weren’t there before. One day I came back with Webb to his house and voila, the previous empty bathroom now had girly paraphernalia.
As I entered the dining area, I paused at the marble counter, my eyes flying to the yellow roses that weren’t there the last time I was here.
“They’re beautiful…” I exclaimed, touching one with my fingers. The thorns had been dulled so I wouldn’t prick my fingers on them.
“They’re fresh from the garden…” the voice of a woman trailed from behind me.
I quickly turned around. Webb never had anyone over. While it was evident that the house was well-maintained I never saw anyone come to clean or cook or do any gardening in the short period that I’d been here.
“Vero.” The small tanned lady extended her hand.
I encased her hand in both of mine, “Athena. It’s so nice to meet you.”
Her teeth showed when she gave me a big smile. “It’s been so long since Webb brought a woman here. I didn’t even know you were here until today. I’ve been on vacation and now…” Her hands exploded in the air, she looked genuinely happy. “Señorita, sorry I’m talking so much – what would you like for breakfast?”
“Oh no, I’m good but thank you. I usually just have cereal and milk.”
“Would you like omelet with salsa?” A warm smile was pasted on her kind face.
“I don’t want to bother…”
“Mija, omelet then. Onions, patatas, seta, queso, bell peppers or would you like anything else added to it?” She broke no dissention so all I could do was nod and, say “Lots of queso, please.”
Her smile grew bigger as she moved around the kitchen and I could only watch in amazement when she started chopping the ingredients better than any Iron Chef I’d seen on Food Network.
“Wow, you’re really good. Who taught you how to chop like that?”
She laughed and her black eyes turned to me, her black hair wrapped up in a yellow hair bun reminiscent of an era that had gone by. “I went to cooking school.”
“Le Cordon Bleu?” I hinted, the woman could have been a top instructor on how to chop without crying over an onion and without looking at what she was chopping.
“I don’t know what that is. My father taught me how to cook. He was my cooking school. He was the best salsa maker in town. His pozole united people – people from other towns came by to buy it.”
“Sounds like a great cook and a great father,” I said, filling my nose with the delicious scent of everything that this friendly woman was cooking on the electric stove.
“He was, he passed away in 2015.” A forlorn look passed through her gentle features. “I went to visit him in his final days. Mr. Worthington was very understanding. He said I could stay there for a month after he passed away.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.” I took a sip of the apple juice that she had set for me on the counter. I wasn’t sure what her relationship was with Webb, but she sounded like a maternal figure to him.
“He lived the best life.” She was now mixing tomatoes in a small bowl and from time to time added seasonings without using a measuring spoon. “Would you like some toast?”
I nodded because I had a feeling she’d be offended if I stopped helping her prepare breakfast for me. “Thank you.”
“De nada.” Mario often said that so I knew she meant welcome.
“Does Webb come here often?” I questioned, “When he was still in the military, did he stay here a lot?”
She made a low wavy motion with her hand. “Not a lot. His mom would come here, but not him. He was always busy, going around the world. He’s always been that way, ever since he was a child. He doesn’t like to stay put.”
Oh my. “How long have you known him?”
“His mother hired me when he was ten years old, so I’ve been with his family almost half of my life.”
My wonderment raised a pitch. “You don’t look that old.”
“Ah, age is just a number, mija. It’s how you live that makes you young or old.” She paused and her eyes moved to the window. “That boy, he’s lived a hundred lives. He’s gone through a lot. More than twice the suffering any man could possibly live through.”
I was about to ask her about what she meant by that –
“Here…let me know if you want more salsa. I tried to make it milder for you. My husband says I put too much pimienta.”
My quizzical look alerted her so she explained, “Pimienta – pepper.”
I took a bite and my mouth melted from the softest, slightly creamy even though I didn’t see her putting any cream or butter, and just a delicious merging of flavors in my omelet.
“Vero…this is…wow.” I wanted to eat everything that was on my plate at once, but at the same time I also wanted to savor it.
Her face lit up, “Gracias.”
I kept eating because my mouth wouldn’t allow me to stop. Whatever she made, however she made it was perfection.
Even the toast was done perfectly.
Vero kept busy putting back the spices she’d used in the spice rack by the pantry and when I’d asked her if she wanted to share my breakfast, she’d steadfastly said, “No,” because she always ate before the sun went up. Which meant really, really early.
I stood up to wash the dishes and she waved at me, “No,” and I could tell she wasn’t a woman who I’d like to cross.
I hugged her to thank her for what she made me and she gave me a tight hug back.
Eating breakfast and meeting Vero had distracted me from looking for Webb, but now that both were done, I felt the excitement build in me. “Have you seen Webb?”
“Or Liam?” The second question was to diffuse the excitement that bubbled up to the surface.
“They went for a walk. Webb said they’ll be back at nine forty-five.”
My eyes fastened on the wall clock that was centered on the wall of the dining room. 9:25. They’ll be back in twenty minutes and if there was one thing I learned about Webb, it was that he valued time. By the second. So if he said he’d be back by nine forty-five, he’d be here a minute before but not a minute after.
“Thank you so much for making me breakfast, Vero,” I said, before slowly walking towards the main door.
She merely smiled and with soap in her hands, she gestured, “He’ll be back soon.”
I nodded, my nerves firing shots within my body, knowing that he was back now.
“Athena…” I almost missed her calling me because she’d spoken in a very low voice.
I looked back at her and with a pensive look in her dark eyes, she said, “He’ll make mistakes…but please be kind to him. He’s not a happy man. He hasn’t been for so long.”
I was a hundred percent sure that she was talking about Webb, but I wasn’t quite so certain about what she meant. “My dad’s his client, Vero. I’m sure I’m just an assignment to him.”
Her face beamed when she replied, “I saw him this morning – he let me know that the roses were ready for picking.”
I stayed rooted on the spot, waiting for her to tell me something, just a little nugget of wisdom that maybe, just maybe Webb saw me as something more than his assignment. I’d worry about the why later.
“I’ve known him his entire life, mija. He’s never cared about the flowers. Unless it’s for his mom… He always brought her flowers because she loves them.”
“Okay,” eked out of me. That didn’t mean anything. Maybe Webb just didn’t want the roses to go to waste.
“He also asked me if I could I strip them of their thorns or maybe dull them a little because he didn’t want you to get hurt when you touched them.”
Breath whooshed out of my lungs and my heart tried to make its way to its regular rhythm.
“Tell me, mija. Are you just an assignment to him?”
There wasn’t much to do except wait.
They were stealthy so I plopped myself on the small wooden chair by the porch. This way I could see them when they entered the house.
With my cellphone on hand, I started checking my e-mails.
My Lit professor had just sent us the study guide for the final. I’d have to print it out later.
I kept scrolling.
Group work meeting with my Journalism classmates.
Schedule for one-on-one meeting with my advisor.
Registrar’s email on enrollment for next sem.
Ads for Target.
Scroll down.
Sale at the Gap Store.
Definitely clicking on that one.
I was getting lost in the forty percent off sale items when I heard Liam’s voice. I couldn’t decipher what he was saying clearly, but I knew they were just around the bend.
I looked at the walkway leading to the house, waiting for them, him to appear.
We’d been texting back and forth, mostly one-sided and that side was mine, since even in text he was conservative with words.
Liam was the shirtless one, but Webb was definitely the hotter one.
He was wearing a casual black tee shirt with gray running pants, and held his phone in one hand. He was walking…and now, when I was catching him unaware, I noticed that he was leaning more on his right leg, a slight limp added to his gait. Was it there before? Why was I just noticing now?
Maybe it was because you were always too busy ogling him, Athena.
Or maybe it was because he always seemed larger than life. Superhuman. Indestructible.
He hadn’t seen me yet because he was looking at Liam who was most likely giving him a ribbing because from where I stood, I could see a small smile forming on his face.
I couldn’t bottle up my excitement so I started to run to them.
Webb’s head immediately tilted in my direction, and just before he could say anything, I jumped into his arms.
He had no choice but to catch me.
A few seconds later, my arms were around his neck and my legs were wrapped around his waist.
I wished I could say it wasn’t awkward but holy crap, what do I do now?
I just mauled the man and…
“Hi.” I heard Webb speak in my right ear.
Liam’s loud chuckles echoed in my other ear.
I smelled his unique scent and I burrowed my head even deeper into his chest. Musky, woodsy, male. Just Webb.
“Someone missed someone.” Liam was speaking, but all I could feel was the strength in Webb’s arms and the steady steps he took as he climbed up the small set of stairs leading to the main door.
Could I just die now?
How could I show my face to Webb now?
I just up and ran and jumped into his arms.
I didn’t exactly have a Plan B.
Plan A wasn’t even that well thought out.
Now…
What do I do?
“You okay?” Webb’s voice was low. Raspier yet smoother than the usual rough edge that it held.
I nodded to his chest.
“Iwannadie,” I said with my voice muffled by his shirt that barely had any sweat on it.
“It’s alright,” he said, and I felt a hand stroke my head. “Liam’s not here. Anymore.”
Slowly…
Oh so slowly…
I lifted my head.
The strong jaw, full lips, broad and slightly broken nose.
I touched all of it…with the tip of my fingers.
And when I reached his eyes, eyes that held the bluest smolder I’d ever seen, any ounce of restraint, any sense of decency I possessed spilled over and I could still hear the shattering of common sense reverberate in my ears as my lips dipped into his.
He was hesitant, but I was determined.
I kissed him with what seemed like a decade’s worth of missing him. Of not having him near me. Of not seeing him before and after my classes.
My tongue invited his to join and achingly he did.
I felt his arms slowly move from my back towards my butt, his hand gently kneading, moving, guiding my lower body to feel him.
Feel how hard he was for me.
My hips had a life of their own as they slowly rotated to feel more, just more of his hardness.
We hadn’t come up for air, our mouths were fused with so much heat that couldn’t be stoked. I poured everything that I had into his mouth and he was giving it back, returning my passion with his dominance, and just like that, I knew that there was no way I was just an assignment to him.
A loud cough cut into our heavy breathing and Webb muttered, “Fuck off.”
“I’d love to, brother, but you have a phone call.”
Oh God, Liam.
Webb slowly detached his mouth from mine and stroked my lips with his fingers.
My lips felt raw and thoroughly kissed.
His blue eyes softened as he asked Liam, “Who’s calling? I didn’t feel my phone vibrate.”
My back was towards Liam and I was still wrapped in Webb’s arms so I couldn’t see his expression.
“That’s because your phone is on the floor.”
Webb looked down at the same time I did, our heads almost bumping into each other, and we both saw his phone face down on the floor.
“Who’s calling?” he repeated to Liam, his hands slowly disengaging from around my butt and helping my legs find footing on the ground.
“Joseph Bridges.”
I turned around towards Liam, completely forgetting about the compromising situation that I’d put Webb. “Dad?”
Liam was still shirtless, a sheen of sweat evident on his muscled chest. He was an attractive, built guy, but I didn’t feel any zip-zap-zingers with him, a complete opposite for what I felt for Webb every time he was near me. “Yup, daddy’s been trying to call you, girly. He couldn’t reach you or Webb, so he called me.”
I felt Webb moving behind me, and heard him speak in a cold, detached tone, “I’ll call him.”
My head spun around, puzzlement mirrored on my face. How could he go from soft and gentle to brusque and business-like this fast? It had been less than five minutes since my mouth was on his face and my butt was in his hands and now he’s talking as if nothing had happened.
He met my eyes briefly, his face stone-cold, his overall demeanor hardly reminiscent of the warmth that had engulfed me a few minutes earlier.
He walked to the side and said, “I’ll catch up with you later.” To Liam, he said, “Watch Athena. I’ll be right back.”
I didn’t dare look in Liam’s eyes.
Because I already knew what would be mirrored in them.
Empathy.
Sadness.
Worst of all, pity.