Текст книги "Chaser"
Автор книги: Staci Hart
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Текущая страница: 3 (всего у книги 19 страниц)
GROWN-ASS WOMAN
Maggie
I STRETCHED AND ROLLED OVER in bed the next morning, sighing at the serenity of the morning. Everything was still and quiet, though I could hear Lily in the kitchen. Our room was bright, the light diffused by the curtains, everything soft pinks, creams, and grays. Lily’s bed was across from mine, her wall graced with a display of ballet shoes from important performances. She’d scribbled the date and show on the toe of each pair and hung them on her wall, the most recent being her Swan Lake debut.
The shoes framed a large painting of a ballerina in the shadows, only parts of her body visible – profile, shoulder, tutu. I admired it often – the darkness and lightness of it, that it felt heavy and feather-light all at once. Patrick had painted it for her years before, after he went to his first ballet. He’d painted something for everyone. In fact, most of the art in our apartment was Patrick’s work.
My mind drifted to the day ahead, wondering what I’d do to occupy my time. I’d be alone again – Lily would be at the theater, West would be at Columbia grading papers as part of his TA duties. Rose would sleep most of the day. So I’d fill out applications and look for something to occupy my time, besides Cooper.
It had started off casually, but in the last week, we’d ramped up to seeing each other every day, without fail. The closer we came to the end, the more … I don’t know, frantic I felt about him. Like the binge brownie session before a diet. I told myself it was just because he did stuff to my vagina that I’d only read about in Cosmo. It was forbidden and exciting – there was something thrilling about being near him with everyone around, knowing they had no clue we were seeing each other in the buff, on the daily.
Plus, Cooper was thrilling on his own. He was a walking dream – tall and dark, rich and charming, cheerful and reckless.
He was dangerous.
That made him infinitely more appealing. All the more reason for the rules.
My phone buzzed on my nightstand, and I picked it up to find a text from Cooper. I smiled thinking about him lying in his gigantic bed, thinking about me.
Sleep well?
I texted him back. Decent. You?
I had this dream about you last night.
I snickered. Oh, yeah? What about?
Come over and I’ll show you.
My cheeks heated up. I’d love to, but I’ve got some stuff to take care of today.
Ah, yes. The job hunt. What’s on deck?
I’ve got a few things working. Gotta fill out some applications and send some emails.
I want to see you.
My heart skipped. He was just so … direct sometimes. I think it affected my pulse rate. You just saw me yesterday.
Well, I want to see you again. Come over tonight.
Maybe. What time?
I’m tied up until 8 or 9. Don’t say maybe. Say yes.
I wanted to go so bad. My brain screamed at me to cut that shit out. I’ll text you later.
So, yes?
Bye, Cooper.
See you tonight, Mags.
I rolled my eyes, betrayed by my smile as I closed the app, only noticing then that I had an alert for another text. From Jimmy.
Seeing my ex-financé’s name alone still threw me into a spin. Never mind when I read the actual message.
Been thinking about you.
My heart pounded so hard it hurt, my breath coming a little too fast. I closed the app. If you’d scrolled back through his texts, you would find a long, one-sided grovel-fest. I hadn’t responded once. I felt like I deserved a medal or something. Ice cream, at the very least.
Jimmy had been thinking about me. I almost laughed at the thought. And then I wished I had the balls to text him back: I won’t be thinking about you at all while I’m banging Cooper Moore tonight.
I flipped off the covers and climbed out of bed, no longer feeling happy and comfortable there, looking for some distance as I made my way through the apartment.
New York apartments were nothing like what I was accustomed to. In Jackson, your apartment would be at most forty years old, built in that 70s or 80s style with the bar behind the sink and mirrored closet doors. In Manhattan? The buildings were much older, mid-century or before. Which meant they were tiny. Our kitchen opened up to the living room, which had just enough room for the essentials – couch, coffee table, TV, and a table and chairs. But Lily and Rose found a way to set it up so it didn’t feel cramped, with a style that was somehow girly while still maintaining an edge.
Must have been a New York thing. I’d never achieve that level of chic on my own.
Lily smiled over her shoulder at me as she stood in front of the stove, pushing eggs around the skillet. She was so pretty, big, wide set blue eyes and long, blond hair hanging against her back in waves.
“Morning,” she said. “Hungry?”
I smiled back. “Sure. Is there coffee?”
“Mmhmm,” she hummed as she looked back at the eggs. “Made a full pot.”
I grabbed a mug and poured the steaming coffee in. “How’d it go last night? Stay at Habits late?”
“Oh, not super late. Astrid and Cooper left just after you did. When West and I left, Tricky was still there making Rose squirmy.”
I pushed away the thought of Astrid leaving with Cooper. And then I pushed away the thought of tackling Astrid and slapping her. “Poor Tricky. I wonder if he tried to talk to her.” I poured a scoop of sugar into my coffee and gave it a stir.
“Doubtful. I wish he would, even though I have no idea how Rose would handle it if he did.”
I took a seat at the table. “Doesn’t she want him? Deep down, at least?”
“I think so. But see, once Rose makes a decision, that’s pretty much it. Especially where her heart’s concerned. He’s got a lot of work to do if he really wants her to hear him, and I don’t think he has any idea where to start. Giving her the smolder face isn’t going to be enough.”
I chuckled. “My God, all those tattoos all over? I’m not usually into that, but damn. Plus, those fuck-me eyes he gives her – I don’t know how she can stand it.”
“Me neither. She’s got ironclad willpower.” She dumped the eggs onto a plate. “Scrambled okay?”
“Perfect.”
She handed me the plate with a napkin and fork. “How are things with Mr. M?”
“Thanks, Lily.” I laid the napkin in my lap and picked up my fork. “Mr. M is as sexy as ever. He wants to see me tonight, so I may not be around.”
She smirked at me as she cracked eggs for another round. “That makes it almost every day for the last week.”
“Not that you’re keeping track or anything.”
“Clearly I’m not at all interested or curious about this guy in any way. And I’m not at all dying to know who he is, or what he looks like, or where you met him, or all of the millions of things you haven’t told me. I’m very indifferent about the whole thing.”
I laughed. “Clearly.”
“So, none of those pesky feelings have developed, have they?”
I took a sip of coffee. “We’re just having fun, that’s all. There’s nothing more to it. He’s a lot like Jimmy, which makes it impossible to take him seriously.”
“But, I mean, how alike are they really?”
I thought about how to phrase it in a way that wouldn’t tip her off, taking a bite of eggs to stall. “Well, they’re both manwhores, even though Mr. M is up front about it. And they’re both charmers. They have a knack for making me feel special and pretty, even though I don’t believe they want anything real from me. Just … magnetic, you know? They have charisma. You just want to believe them so badly. Which is scary, because apparently I’m gullible.”
Lily pushed the sizzling eggs around again. “I dunno. You trusted Jimmy. That doesn’t make you gullible.”
“Says you. Anyway, I see Mr. M coming from a mile away. I won’t be fooled again. I’ve got his number, and I know his game. I’m armed with foresight and a set of surefire rules to keep things casual. As long as I can just enjoy that little sliver of him I know I can handle, everything will be okay.”
“Oh, I’m sure you can handle his sliver just fine.”
“Not half as well as he can handle mine.”
She giggled. “So, how does it work? Like, do you guys talk and hang out, or do you just go cowgirl up and then split when it’s over?”
“We talk, but dates aren’t allowed, per the rules. We hang out at his place sometimes too, but nothing much, really. I just get freaked out if I stay there too long or we talk about serious stuff.”
She plated her eggs and sat next to me, arranging her napkin. “So you really don’t have any feelings for him?”
“I mean, I like him. I enjoy talking to him. And I’ll admit, he is such a good kisser that I sometimes forget all about the rules.”
Her full mouth didn’t stop her from snickering.
I pushed my eggs around my plate before scooping up a bite. “But I’m just another notch on his bedpost. He’s just using me, and I’m using him too. It works.”
“As long as you can keep that mentality, you’ll be just fine.”
“I’m being a modern woman. Like Carrie Bradshaw with a less impressive shoe collection. Using my vagina the way it was intended to be used – by a super hot vagina wizard.”
She broke out laughing just as a knock rapped. The door opened, and West walked in.
My brother was apparently a dreamboat, per every hetero girlfriend I’d ever had. He was well over six feet of long and lean, with blue eyes like mine. We didn’t look all that much alike, weirdly – he had the stature of our dad and the coloring of our mom, while I looked the opposite – just like my mom but blond like my dad. He’d been living in New York for six years, and in that time, he’d grown a beard, a man bun, and an affinity for flannels and oxfords.
“Hey,” West said with a smile. “What are you two giggling about?” He walked across the room and bent to lay a kiss on Lily’s lips.
“You don’t want to know,” she answered and stretched to kiss him once more.
“Hey, Mags.” West took a seat next to me at the table. “I’m glad you’re up. Brought you something.” He pulled what looked like a pink flashlight out of his pocket and handed it to me.
I set my fork down and took it, curious. “Why are you giving me a flashlight?”
He chuckled. “It’s a Taser.”
I huffed. “I have mace. I don’t need a Taser. I’m not together enough to walk around with something this dangerous. With my luck, I’ll accidentally tase an old lady asking for directions or something.”
“You’ve been running around the city without one for long enough. Don’t fight me on it – just put it in your purse and thank me for looking out for you.”
I rolled my eyes.
“Just do it and I’ll shut up.”
I gave him a look. “Thanks, West.”
“You’re welcome.” He smiled, looking smug. “What are you doing today?”
“Hitting the pavement. Or internet, as it were. I figure that should take up a good chunk of the day.”
He sat back in his seat and hung an arm on the back of Lily’s chair. They looked so good together, like they belonged on the cover of a magazine. “Where all are you applying?”
“Some elementary schools and a handful of charity reading outreach programs. There’s one in particular that works with kids who live in homeless shelters. I wouldn’t get paid, but it would be so rewarding. I just can’t imagine the life those kids live, not after growing up with a stable family in the suburbs.”
“God,” Lily said, eyes wide. “You don’t always think about how many homeless kids there must be in the city.”
“I know. I read on one website that there are more than twenty-five thousand homeless kids in the New York Metro area. It’s crazy. A lot of them live in community houses with their families as they try to get back on their feet. I think I’d really enjoy it, bringing books into their lives.” I sighed and scooped a bite of eggs onto my fork. “I can afford to volunteer for the summer, maybe see if there’s something I can do with them on a long-term scale. And in the meantime, I’ll keep looking for a teaching job for next school year.”
“Sounds like a solid plan,” she said.
West eyed me. “Sounds dangerous.”
I rolled my eyes. “God, you’re the worst, Weston. I’m a grown-ass woman armed with pepper spray and a hot pink Taser. I’ll be fine. I’ll be at the shelters during the day with a million other people. Anyway, I don’t even have the job yet, so just leave me be.”
He made a face and folded his arms across his chest. “You don’t even know how to use the Taser yet.”
I picked it up and inspected it. “How hard could it be? Push this zap button.” I pressed it, and it crackled so loud, I jumped. My eyes widened, watching the electricity snap between the prongs. I let the button go. “Yeah, I’m betting that alone will run off the rapists.”
Lily snickered. “He makes me carry one too, you know. He bought it for me years ago.”
I gave my head a shake in commiseration. “He is so overbearing.”
West’s eyes narrowed. “He just doesn’t like to think about his girls walking around New York without him.”
Lily patted his forearm and leaned over to kiss his cheek. “I think it’s sweet.”
“Thank you.”
“And a little pushy—”
He frowned.
“—but sweet.”
He sighed. “Are you about ready to go?”
She shoveled her last bite into her mouth and hopped up. “Sure am. Let me grab my bag.”
West stood and pushed in his chair. “Good luck today, Mags. Let me know how it goes.”
“I will. Cross your fingers for me.”
Lily beamed as she walked back in with her bag, and I watched them clasp hands and look into each other’s eyes, smiling like there was no one else in the world but the two of them. I was somehow elated for them and filled with jealousy all at the same time.
Lily smiled over at me. “Have a great day. I’ll see you tonight, okay?”
I sighed and smiled back, feeling tired out of nowhere. I picked up my coffee. “Sounds good.”
They waved over their shoulders as they left the apartment, which was suddenly very, very quiet. And I was very, very alone.
I pushed back the chair as I pushed down my thoughts, grabbing Rose’s portable speaker to turn on music. And then I put on a smile and cleared off the table, humming as I washed the pans and dishes.
Being alone wasn’t all that bad. There was something nice about solitude, doing something mundane and responsible and grown up. Today I’d start building real roots in New York. Find an undeniable reason to stay forever. Because even though I was here, I still felt like I was in limbo. Finding a job was the first step to digging into my new life.
I dried off my hands and set up my laptop, feeling determined. Opened my email sitting straight as an arrow at the kitchen table. Pulled open my bookmarks feeling like a boss and fired away. Before I knew it, I had applied to three public schools and four charity outreaches, which was the sum of everything on my to-do list for the day. I checked the clock.
It was ten.
I sighed, annoyed that I didn’t have a single productive thing left to do. Eleven hours to kill before I saw Cooper. I chewed on my lip. Maybe I could explore the city some more or go to the library and check out a new book. I could read in the park – it looked like a gorgeous day. Or I could text Cooper.
Why wait all day if he was free now?
I only considered the question for a split second before picking up my phone and firing off a message. Welp, that didn’t take nearly as long as I thought it would. You busy?
My phone dinged within seconds. For you? Never. Want to come over?
I smiled. Be there in thirty-ish.
Let me send Bobby.
I rolled my eyes. You’re just as bad as West. I can find my own way, thanks, boss.
All right, you strong, independent woman. I’ll be waiting.
My heart fluttered again as I hopped up and nearly skipped into my room to get dressed. I pulled open my drawers and dug through them. Had to be casual for sure. Not too fussy. Maybe I’d even still go for a walk and read in the park after seeing Cooper. Naked.
I stripped off my clothes and slipped into my favorite casual-but-still-sexy-because-it’s-see-through black bra and panties, tugged on skinnies and a loose, striped tank. I reached under my bed for my white Converse, past all my gorgeous shoes that I never got to wear, because New York is dirty as hell, and shoved my feet in. And then I blew into the bathroom, stuffing a cardigan and scarf into my bag.
It wasn’t that I was overly eager for no reason, it was just that I was already thinking about his lips. I could see them smiling. I could feel them against mine. I could see them closing over my —
Oh, for God’s sake. Give it a rest.
I made a face at my reflection and picked up my mascara, then brushed on a little blush. My hair was a mess, which was nothing new, but I sprayed it with some expensive stuff my hairdresser sold me and scrunched it up, shaking out my roots. No one would ever accuse me of not having volume, that was for sure.
I headed out of the apartment, pulling on my cardigan and wrapping my scarf around my neck as I headed across the hall to West’s. I knocked and waited. We all had keys to each other’s apartments, though I still felt weird using mine to get into my brother’s place. Patrick would have answered within a second – his hearing was ridiculous – so when he didn’t, I unlocked the door and headed inside.
Their apartment had the comfortable, easy feel of a couple of guys who didn’t give a crap about interior design, but their hobbies lent their own charm to the place. Patrick’s art hung all over the walls, and the shelves were piled with West’s books. He had so many, shelf after shelf, from the classics on up, hardbacks and paperbacks stacked in front of each other, slipped into the free spaces. Shakespeare was his favorite, the topic of his proposal for the doctoral program at Columbia.
I made my way to one and quickly scanned the shelves, settling on Stardust by Neil Gaiman, another one of West’s favorite authors, and then I bounded out of the building.
I popped in my earbuds, smiling in the crisp spring afternoon, feeling like a legit New Yorker as I set out to walk the mile to Cooper’s place by way of Central Park. I knew exactly where I was going without needing to check a map. My MetroCard was in my bag, which somehow felt like an official token of my authenticity, whether I needed it or not.
You know what it was? I felt like I had my shit together. Like this new, improved, cosmopolitan Maggie had shed her old skin and left it in Jackson where it belonged. New Maggie was just that – shiny and new and indifferent to everything that had happened before. I wanted to reinvent myself. No, reinvent was the wrong word. I wanted to redefine myself. And I had.
My whole life, I’d lived in the same town, known the same people. Do you know what it’s like to run into everyone you went to high school with every time you went to the grocery store? Or the post office? Well, it sucks. No one forgot that time in first grade when you sat on a brownie and had chocolate on your butt all day. They don’t forget about the time Shawn Cross spit gum in your hair on the field trip to the zoo and Miss Jaret had to cut it out with a pair of safety scissors. And they definitely don’t forget that one time you caught your fiancé nailing your maid of honor on your wedding day. In a church, no less.
But in New York? No one knew and no one cared. And that was a gloriously freeing thing.
The day was spectacular – that kind of day that you live for all year, where it’s the perfect mix of blue sky and clouds, the air just crisp enough to be comfortable, carrying the promise of change. I made my way across the park with my eyes on the blooming cherry blossom and magnolia trees. I walked the path past the joggers and couples and around the Central Park Lawn, which was blanketed with people reading books, just sitting in the middle of the park, soaking it all in.
Once I hit the Met, I headed down 5th Avenue and to The Compass.
It was beautiful, the old, Deco feel of the 20s in every column, every angle, and I looked up, craning my neck as I tried to guess which windows were his from the outside. I smiled to myself, winding up my earbuds as I approached the awning to his building.
The doorman smiled at me. “Miss Williams?”
I blinked, startled that he knew my name. “Yes?”
“Mr. Moore added you to his permanent guest list. He told me to send you up.”
I blushed. “Thank you so much.”
“It’s my pleasure. Allow me.” He opened the door, and I stepped into the lobby, feeling a little fancy and a lot strange.
I’d been there almost a dozen times, but Cooper was usually with me, and we always came through the back entrance. But as I stepped into the elaborate foyer, I felt like a hayseed in my sneakers and jeans. To fit in there, I would have needed to be a little more Dior and Louboutin and a little less H&M and Converse.
I followed the doorman into the elevator well, admiring the golden compass on the floor between the two elevator doors. It always caught my eye, the elaborate starburst that made the compass rose, colored in alternating matte and shiny gold. It was like the cherry on the design sundae in such a brilliant building.
The elevator door opened, and I stepped inside. The doorman ducked in and waved his key fob over the sensor pad before hitting the P1 button.
He tipped his hat as he backed out. “Have a lovely time, Miss Williams.”
“Thank you again,” I called as the doors closed, and I leaned against the elevator wall, all of a sudden nervous, or intimidated maybe. Like I didn’t belong. When the doors opened a moment later to his black and gold foyer, I felt even less sure of myself. But I walked across the space and knocked on his door anyway. And the second he opened it and I saw his smiling face, it was like nothing before that moment had ever happened.
