Love Love by Beth Michele Page B

ears,
until finally it’s my turn. “Hey, Brad.”
    “ Hey, Gabby,” he says with
glassy eyes and downturned lips.
    “ Are you okay?”
    He looks over at Erica, his right-hand
in the shop. “Can you take over the register for a bit?”
    I steer him to a nearby table. His
eyes glaze over and all I see is sadness. “What is it, Brad? What’s
going on?”
    He pauses, unsure whether he wants to
continue. “It’s just that…today is the anniversary of my sister’s
death. She passed away five years ago, from breast
cancer.”
    “ God, Brad, I’m so sorry. I
had no idea.”
    “ It’s okay. I don’t like to
talk about it that much.”
    A lone tear rolls down his cheek, and
I have a strong desire to lift my finger and wipe it away, but I
don’t. Instead, I place my hand over his, ever so briefly. I need
him to know that I understand. And I do. I really do.
    He looks down at our hands, and I feel
the need to say something. “I’d love to hear about her sometime, if
you’d like. When you’re ready, that is…I’m a really great
listener.”
    We sit quietly for a few minutes,
before the shop starts to get more crazy and they need him behind
the counter. Brad pats my hand and half-smiles, then goes back to
work.
    When I get back to our apartment, Fran
is awake and watching re-runs of I Love Lucy. As soon as I walk in,
she turns the TV off.
    I mill around our tiny kitchen, pull a
tray and some napkins from a cupboard under the microwave, arrange
our breakfast on it, and then go sit next to Fran on the sofa. “Two
special chocolate sprinkle donuts, and one caramel
latte.”
    “ Thanks, hon. I appreciate
it.”
    “ Anything for you. So, how
do you feel this morning?”
    “ Drained. All that therapy
I went through so I could heal from that nightmare. My mother
dragged me every week for four freaking years. There’s no way I can
let him back in my life again. I don’t know what I’m going to do,
but I know that I don’t ever want to see that dirtbag again. I
don’t care how much he told my mom he’s changed. He doesn’t exist
in my life.”
    “ I know, Fran. It’s going
to be okay. I promise you.” I hesitate for a second. “Have you told
Kyle about all this?”
    She exhales a large breath. “No, not
yet.”
    I cover her hand with mine. “I really
think you should, Fran. If your dad is serious, you’re going to
need all the support you can get.”
    ***

 
     
    Sex on
a Sunday. That’s what I wake up thinking…There’s nothing like the
tantalizing thought of emerald eyes and wandering hands. Dane
continues to blow my mind in the sexual arena and I’m looking
forward to another round tonight. He definitely has a gift, that’s
for sure. If you can consider excelling at giving pleasure a gift.
I’ll gladly accept it anytime, no twisting of the arm
necessary.
    I’ve had sex before, but he’s
certainly raised the bar. His prowess in this particular area is
not unexpected, given that he’s an Adonis. Sex appeal drips from
every sinew of his sensuous, chiseled body, like warm chocolate
pouring seductively from a fountain. Thick, hot, rich.
    I need a cold shower.
     

     
    My fashion stylist has chosen my dress
for the evening, and apparently it needs to be sexy with a burst of
color, like the mint green stretch satin dress with the spaghetti
straps that’s cut far above the knee. According to Fran, it shows
just the right amount of cleavage, while still leaving something to
the imagination.
    I’m sitting on a chair in our
makeshift beauty salon in the bathroom, getting ready for Fran to
do my hair. I peek up at her. “So, do you think he’ll be turned on
by my day of the week undies?”
    Fran’s mouth hangs open and she nearly
drops the hairbrush. “You did not!” she screams out. She’s so fun
to tease and I can’t resist.
    I giggle. “Of course not! But don’t
act so offended, you used to wear them in elementary and middle
school, remember?”
    A happy noise escapes her throat.
“Yeah, I