Present Perfect(54)


“What?”

“I gotta girl in my room.” I felt his smile against my cheek.

“Somehow I don’t think that’s a rare occurrence.”

“I’ve never had a girl in my room, unless you count my mom and Miss Sally, and trust me, neither one of them have seen girl-dom in a long, long time.”

Turning round in his arms to face him, I asked, “Who’s Miss Sally?”

“The maid, she comes a few times a week. But today is her day off,” he said winking at me.

Narrowing my eyes, I asked suspiciously, “So, I’m really the first girl you’ve ever had in your room?”

“The one and only.”

“Why have I been granted this honor?”

“Because, you’re special to me,” he said as he gave me a sweet smile.

There was sincerity and warmth in his eyes. I could tell he meant what he said. In that moment, he wasn’t the smooth talking high school Casanova. He wasn’t the spoiled brat everyone at school thought he was. He was a sweet boy who made me happy and thought I was special.

“Make yourself comfortable. I’m going to check my email real quick.”

Kicking off my flats, I scooted up the bed and leaned against the headboard. My gaze roamed around the room taking everything in before it landed on Brad sitting at his desk. He was even hot checking email. When he finished, he turned his chair around to face me.

“So, what do you want to do now?” I asked.

He slid off the chair on to his knees, crawling on all fours across the floor and up the bed to me. “Oh, there are several things I want to do now.” He waggled his eyebrows. And just like that, the Casanova was back.

I started laughing. “I left myself wide open for that one.”

“Oh Beautiful, I have about ten responses to that running through my head. All dirty. You’re killing me.” I slapped his arm and laughed. “Let’s listen to some music,” he said, kissing the tip of my nose before jumping off the bed and walking over to his impressive sound system. To my surprise, the awesome voice of Tracy Chapman filled the air. I always pegged Brad as a pop music kind of guy. That’s usually what was playing in his car. I was impressed with his choice today.

“I love this CD,” I said.

“Yeah, she’s awesome.”

Shaking my head, I looked up at him. “You surprise me.”

He smirked as he walked back to his desk and sat. He playfully said, “Why, because I like music with soul and meaning? I’m not just a pretty face with an amazing body, Beautiful.”

“I know that,” I said, smiling slightly.

We listened to the music in silence for a while. I had decided to try and talk to Brad about something important. I didn’t know if it was because I wanted to finally get to know another side of him or because I wanted to keep us busy talking, so things wouldn’t get as hot and heavy as they were getting downstairs.

“What are you going to be when you grow up?”

Brad tilted the chair back, looking up like he was contemplating this question with great thought. “A fireman and a clown. No, wait a minute. I don’t want to be a clown. They’re scary as hell. Maybe a…”

“I’m serious. Why do you always do that?”

“Do what?” he asked while twisting his chair from side to side.

“Whenever I’ve tried to talk to you about anything serious, you always make a joke, and we drop it.”

“I have my entire adult life to be serious. Why start now?”

We stared at each other. I couldn’t pinpoint what was different about today, but when I looked at Brad I wanted more than a physical connection with him. Maybe this is what ‘moving on’ felt like.

The air changed in the room, just like it had before while we were downstairs. I was extremely aware of the increasing pace of my heartbeat as I saw Brad’s eyes run up and down my body. Just his look made the butterflies in my stomach wake up. I took in a big gulp of air when the tip of his tongue slid across his bottom lip. Clearing my throat, I broke the silence, and returned to my questioning.

“Answer the question.”

“I guess a lawyer.” He sounded very dispassionate.

“You don’t sound very happy about it.”

“Both my parents are lawyers. My granddad on my father’s side was a lawyer. My brother will be a lawyer. I’ve always been told I was going to be a lawyer too.” A sense of hopelessness clouded his words and tone of his voice. It was as if he had no say-so in his future, whatsoever. He turned his attention back to his laptop, ending our conversation.

I closed my eyes and laid my head against the headboard, concentrating on the music. I could feel his gaze on me. My eyes shot open when I heard the creek of the chair as Brad got up. He walked over to the dresser and began to empty his pockets, placing the items on top.

I felt bad about the questions I asked earlier. When I saw the sadness in Brad’s eyes I should have been a friend and asked him if he wanted to talk about it. Instead, I just let it go. I looked up at him still standing at the dresser, his back was to me.

“So you don’t sound like you really want to be a lawyer. What do you want to be?” There was some trepidation in my voice.

Spinning around, he held his hands up, palms facing out, and said, “A dancer!” In the blink of an eye fun Brad was back.

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