Connected
Page 26
Walking down the hallway that leads to the living room, I think about how we spent the remainder of yesterday’s daylight hours in his room getting to know each other in a more intimate manner. I’m surprised by how comfortable I feel with him; the ease and playfulness we experience together is simply intoxicating. It keeps me wanting more, and I’m pretty sure it keeps River wanting more as well.
When the darkness fell upon us last night, the Hollywood sign glowed in the distance. After stepping outside to take it all in, we made our way back inside to the living room where we ordered pizza and bottles of water. We ate and talked, then we laughed outrageously watching Letterman discuss his version of Fifty Shades of Grey while we lie together on his new couch. Finally, we made our way back to his bedroom and continued our most intimate discovery of each other.
Entering the kitchen, I don’t see a coffee pot anywhere, so whether or not he has coffee is irrelevant. He actually has nothing in his kitchen. No food, no small appliances, not even silverware.
I stand in the doorway to the bedroom and look around at the blank canvas. It gives away nothing about the person River is. But I am not looking for it to do so; I already feel like I know him so well. Yesterday, I may have been a little taken aback by my surroundings and the whole LA feel, however, as I think about it now, I know that where River lives is not an indication of who he is. And besides, I actually love this house, especially the incredible view. In fact, I’m pretty sure that I actually . . . I dare not think it, not yet anyway.
As I watch him sleep so soundly, I can’t help but think about how the sound of River’s voice melts my insides, how his gaze makes me quiver, and how his touch drives me wild. Everything about him, about us, feels so right. These feelings I have are unknown to me. I’ve never felt them before, not even with Ben. Suddenly, guilt washes over me with the reality of this situation. The culpability is beaming through my mind like the bright sunlight streaming through the windows. What is the difference? Why are my feelings for River so much more explosive than they were for Ben?
Squinting my eyes while looking out the sheer covered glass doors, I try to squash the remorse I am feeling. I stare at the scenic view and try to think about River, the man I am enamored with now and not Ben, the man I loved for so long. But the guilt won’t stay at bay, and I’m racking my brain trying to remember if Ben ever made me feel the way River makes me feel. I can’t recall having the same feelings for Ben.
Breaking me free of those stray, unwanted thoughts and questions is the voice that liquefies my insides. “Good morning sexy girl,” he says, and I glance his way. Stretching and yawning, he looks ever so sexy himself. “Whatcha doing way over there?” he asks, holding his arms out for me to join him.
“Good morning yourself,” I respond, smiling while I walk toward him and almost jump into his arms. “I was looking for coffee.”
“Sorry, a pot is the first thing on my list.”
Grinning at me, he lightly kisses my nose, almost as if he’s kissing each freckle. He raises himself on one elbow. “Do you wake up early every morning?”
Laughing a little, I speak the honest truth, “I can’t sleep when the light shines in from outside.” I shift to face him. “My parents installed blackout blinds in my room when I was younger so I would stop waking them up at the crack of dawn.”
“Hmmm . . .” he sounds before adding, “So you’re saying if I want to wake up before you and watch you sleep we’ll have to get some heavy duty blinds?”
Chuckling at him and pointing out the window I abash, “River, no, that would ruin waking up to that stunning view.”
“Wouldn't ruin the stunning view I see when I wake up," he says while looking right at me and tucking a loose piece of hair behind my ear.
God that’s what I’m talking about. Everything about him drives me wild. So grabbing him from behind the neck, I pull him toward me, kissing him hard. I rub my thumbs over his cheeks, continuing to clutch him to me. When I release him, he scans my body, now right next to his. A devilish grin appears on his face and I ask, “What’s that face?”
He runs his fingers down the buttons of the white shirt I am wearing, then follows with his mouth, tugging on the first button with his teeth. “Do you mean the ‘you’re wearing my underwear’ face?” he asks, moving to the second button and swishing his head back and forth as he does.
Laughing as his hair tickles my chest, I say, “Oh, I didn’t know people had a face for that.”
He lifts his head and narrows is glare at me. “People? Do people have faces for when their girl is wearing their underwear?”
“Well I love Pac-Man,” I say before realizing what he just said.
He winks at me adorably and says, “Really? You know how to play?”
“Of course I know how to play!”
“I think I’ll need to check that out,” he says as he checks me out, then says, “You look really hot in Pac-Man.”
Our laughter quiets down as his hand starts to trace the outline of the little yellow men located on my hip. He moves his head back up on the pillow next to mine. I immediately attach my mouth to his and suck on his top lip before slowly trailing kisses down his neck. “By the way . . . did you just call me your girl?”
“Yeah, I did.”
He’s staring at me with only truth in his eyes as he laughs again, tugging on the elastic band of his Pac-Man boxer shorts that I am wearing.
Kissing him again, all jesting is pushed aside. My kiss is full of want and need, and I make that quite apparent. He instantly groans, then rolls us so he’s now hovering over me.
Grinning mischievously at me, he says, “Dahlia, I don’t know what you’re doing to me, but if we don’t get off this thing very soon, we may be here all day.” He pushes his hand down on the air mattress. “And I’m not sure it will hold up.”
Swallowing, I laugh a little. “The air mattress or you, River?”
“Watch yourself girlie, you don’t want to mess with me.”
“Well actually, I do, but first I need coffee so you’re in luck, we can’t stay in this room all day.”
Raising an eyebrow, he jokes, “That’s not the kind of luck I want.” He presses his warm body against mine and continues, “First, I’ll get you coffee, then we need to hit the stores, and then I’ll let you mess with me.”
“You want to go shopping?” I ask, surprised at his plan for the day.
He laughs softly and twists to sit on the side of the mattress. “No . . . not shopping, nothing even remotely like shopping, I promise,” he says, crossing his finger over his heart.
Leaning back toward me, he chuckles against my mouth and pinches my ass. “Just quickly stopping in a few retail establishments to pick up some necessities.”
“Yeah,” I respond, gently slapping his twisted arm before grabbing it.
Sitting up, I lean against his back, keeping his body close to mine a little longer. “I’m pretty sure that is the definition of shopping.”
As I lean over his shoulder, his head turns toward me and I kiss him. I caress his tongue with mine and taste him thoroughly before pulling away. Sliding over to the other side of the mattress, I stand up and stretch.
Still sitting, twisted with his feet on the floor, his eyes roam my body and my skin begins to tingle. I bite down on my lip at the sight of him and try to focus on what has always been my morning priority, coffee. But even the thought of my beloved morning coffee can’t suppress my insatiable desire for him.
He stands up and lets his unyielding gaze weigh on me for a moment longer. “We should probably take a shower.” He has a look on his face like he’s trying to convince himself that he should leave the room.
As he stands there, grinning at me, he’s completely na**d and absolutely sexy as hell. Without saying another word, I grab my bag and saunter off to the bathroom, pushing my shirt off my shoulders and letting it fall off my body, knowing he’s watching me. Shortly after I reach the bathroom, I hear his feet padding across the wooden floor, and I know he’s headed in my direction. Game on, I win.
Having opted to wear the jeans and t-shirt I bought yesterday since they were my only clean clothes, I pull the jeans over River’s Pac-Man boxers and slip the t-shirt over my white bra with the black bow. Sliding my arms into my black leather jacket and tying my Converse sneakers, the ones I luckily threw in my overnight bag before I left home, I’m ready to visit a few retail establishments.
I haven’t been shopping in so long that I am actually a little excited. My excitement only grows as I walk out of the bathroom and see River texting on his phone. He’s wearing worn jeans, a black Ramones t-shirt, a black leather jacket, and black work boots. When he smiles at me while slipping on his black beanie, I am transported into the past, to the first time I laid eyes on him, and he’s just as sexy now as he was then.
While we’re driving, I check my many emails and listen to my voicemails. Both Grace and Aerie have left messages. I send Aerie a quick text and call Grace. I hang up just as my phone battery dies and I mention to River that I should be getting back to Laguna Beach by Wednesday. His eyes flicker to mine, and he very quietly says, “How about we take it day by day?”
I want to argue that I really need to get home, but don’t because I couldn’t care less about getting home. I just really like being with him. So instead, I smile over at him and respond, “I can’t stay with you forever, you know.” Poking him in the ribs underneath his jacket, I add, “You’ll get sick of me and all my games soon enough anyway.”
We walk into what appears to be almost a town unto itself. I have been to The Grove a handful of times. It really does have the best shopping. It hosts all of my most favorite stores including Nike Goddess, Pottery Barn, J. Crew, and H&M.
Coincidentally, the first place we hit is Pottery Barn. I’m quickly learning that shopping with River is rather comical. As we enter the store, he approaches the more-than-willing-to-help young brunette, who instantly bats her eyelashes at him. She blinks at first, as if trying to place him, but blows it off as soon he mentions the wares he’s looking for. I laugh as he jumps on one of the mattresses and tries to take me with him. In a matter of no more than thirty minutes, we have selected neutral bedding, soft towels, and fluffy pillows. We also select a mattress, box spring, and a black leather tufted headboard. The flirty salesgirl didn’t have to bat her eyelashes to convince him to add the coordinating nightstands; he would have done it anyway. He quickly pays and arranges delivery for later today.
As we walk among the stores, his arm slung over my shoulder and my hand in his back pocket, he tells me that he wants to take me to a place called Smitten’s tonight. It’s a local neighborhood bar that The Wilde Ones have been practicing at every Tuesday night for over five years. He informs me I’ll get to meet his brother, sister, and bandmates. That makes me a little nervous, but I’m more excited to finally see him perform with his band.
Our next stop is Williams Sonoma where we select the newest Starbucks coffee pot and purchase coffee pods, cookware, modern white plates, and silverware. Once again, as he pays, he arranges for it all to be delivered later today.
As we walk through the very festive outdoor mall, we pass by an H&M. “Mind if I duck in and grab a few things?”
Nodding, he motions with his head to the side and says, “I’ll be over there. I have a few calls to return,” then he kisses me, slides his nose to my ear and whispers, “So take your time.” He knows what that does to me. I smile at him and run my fingers up his stomach. “It won’t take that long.”
I quickly select a few things to hold me over until I figure out if River has a washer and dryer or until I go home. Approaching the cash register, I hear the urgent pulsing, almost soaring track of an unmistakable musical opus. The distorted vocals, heavy electronic chords, and pounding bass beat all mixed together are undeniably the masterpiece of Justin Timberlake’s Sexy Back.
Looking around to figure out where the music is coming from, I finally determine it is my purse singing. As the word sexy blares out and the lyrics of the first verse come to an end, I can’t help but smile and step out of line. Reaching into my bag, I grab my phone. The name River Wilde is flashing across my screen.
“Heeelllooo,” I beam, glancing toward the front of the store. There he is, leaning against the wall between two glass window cases. His foot is propped against the pink flowery wallpaper of the store’s decor. He has one of his hands in his pocket and the other is holding his phone to his ear. He smiles his full dimple smile and I smile back. Holding his phone out for me to see, he then puts it back to his ear. “Do you like the ringtone I picked?”
I watch as he pushes the phone to his shoulder as a couple of fan girls approach him, pens in their hands. He gives them an obligatory grin and signs the back of one’s shirt and the shoulder of the other’s. Shaking my head and rolling my eyes that he claimed no one really notices him; I bring myself back to the ringtone issue. I guess he must have assigned himself that ringtone when he added us to each other’s contacts. “Yeah, I do actually, Mr. I’m Not Really That Famous,” I answer while giving him a thumbs up and raising my shoulder indicating that I want an autograph too while miming a pen in my hand. Then I add while giggling, “But I didn’t know sexy ever left.”
Shaking his own head, he hangs up the phone. I almost stop breathing from his perfection as he charmingly waves goodbye to his two groupies and starts walking toward me. I step out of line to greet him. “Hey sexy didn’t you . . .” I start to ask when he’s close enough, but he ducks his head and kisses me, quickly preventing me from finishing my question.
When the darkness fell upon us last night, the Hollywood sign glowed in the distance. After stepping outside to take it all in, we made our way back inside to the living room where we ordered pizza and bottles of water. We ate and talked, then we laughed outrageously watching Letterman discuss his version of Fifty Shades of Grey while we lie together on his new couch. Finally, we made our way back to his bedroom and continued our most intimate discovery of each other.
Entering the kitchen, I don’t see a coffee pot anywhere, so whether or not he has coffee is irrelevant. He actually has nothing in his kitchen. No food, no small appliances, not even silverware.
I stand in the doorway to the bedroom and look around at the blank canvas. It gives away nothing about the person River is. But I am not looking for it to do so; I already feel like I know him so well. Yesterday, I may have been a little taken aback by my surroundings and the whole LA feel, however, as I think about it now, I know that where River lives is not an indication of who he is. And besides, I actually love this house, especially the incredible view. In fact, I’m pretty sure that I actually . . . I dare not think it, not yet anyway.
As I watch him sleep so soundly, I can’t help but think about how the sound of River’s voice melts my insides, how his gaze makes me quiver, and how his touch drives me wild. Everything about him, about us, feels so right. These feelings I have are unknown to me. I’ve never felt them before, not even with Ben. Suddenly, guilt washes over me with the reality of this situation. The culpability is beaming through my mind like the bright sunlight streaming through the windows. What is the difference? Why are my feelings for River so much more explosive than they were for Ben?
Squinting my eyes while looking out the sheer covered glass doors, I try to squash the remorse I am feeling. I stare at the scenic view and try to think about River, the man I am enamored with now and not Ben, the man I loved for so long. But the guilt won’t stay at bay, and I’m racking my brain trying to remember if Ben ever made me feel the way River makes me feel. I can’t recall having the same feelings for Ben.
Breaking me free of those stray, unwanted thoughts and questions is the voice that liquefies my insides. “Good morning sexy girl,” he says, and I glance his way. Stretching and yawning, he looks ever so sexy himself. “Whatcha doing way over there?” he asks, holding his arms out for me to join him.
“Good morning yourself,” I respond, smiling while I walk toward him and almost jump into his arms. “I was looking for coffee.”
“Sorry, a pot is the first thing on my list.”
Grinning at me, he lightly kisses my nose, almost as if he’s kissing each freckle. He raises himself on one elbow. “Do you wake up early every morning?”
Laughing a little, I speak the honest truth, “I can’t sleep when the light shines in from outside.” I shift to face him. “My parents installed blackout blinds in my room when I was younger so I would stop waking them up at the crack of dawn.”
“Hmmm . . .” he sounds before adding, “So you’re saying if I want to wake up before you and watch you sleep we’ll have to get some heavy duty blinds?”
Chuckling at him and pointing out the window I abash, “River, no, that would ruin waking up to that stunning view.”
“Wouldn't ruin the stunning view I see when I wake up," he says while looking right at me and tucking a loose piece of hair behind my ear.
God that’s what I’m talking about. Everything about him drives me wild. So grabbing him from behind the neck, I pull him toward me, kissing him hard. I rub my thumbs over his cheeks, continuing to clutch him to me. When I release him, he scans my body, now right next to his. A devilish grin appears on his face and I ask, “What’s that face?”
He runs his fingers down the buttons of the white shirt I am wearing, then follows with his mouth, tugging on the first button with his teeth. “Do you mean the ‘you’re wearing my underwear’ face?” he asks, moving to the second button and swishing his head back and forth as he does.
Laughing as his hair tickles my chest, I say, “Oh, I didn’t know people had a face for that.”
He lifts his head and narrows is glare at me. “People? Do people have faces for when their girl is wearing their underwear?”
“Well I love Pac-Man,” I say before realizing what he just said.
He winks at me adorably and says, “Really? You know how to play?”
“Of course I know how to play!”
“I think I’ll need to check that out,” he says as he checks me out, then says, “You look really hot in Pac-Man.”
Our laughter quiets down as his hand starts to trace the outline of the little yellow men located on my hip. He moves his head back up on the pillow next to mine. I immediately attach my mouth to his and suck on his top lip before slowly trailing kisses down his neck. “By the way . . . did you just call me your girl?”
“Yeah, I did.”
He’s staring at me with only truth in his eyes as he laughs again, tugging on the elastic band of his Pac-Man boxer shorts that I am wearing.
Kissing him again, all jesting is pushed aside. My kiss is full of want and need, and I make that quite apparent. He instantly groans, then rolls us so he’s now hovering over me.
Grinning mischievously at me, he says, “Dahlia, I don’t know what you’re doing to me, but if we don’t get off this thing very soon, we may be here all day.” He pushes his hand down on the air mattress. “And I’m not sure it will hold up.”
Swallowing, I laugh a little. “The air mattress or you, River?”
“Watch yourself girlie, you don’t want to mess with me.”
“Well actually, I do, but first I need coffee so you’re in luck, we can’t stay in this room all day.”
Raising an eyebrow, he jokes, “That’s not the kind of luck I want.” He presses his warm body against mine and continues, “First, I’ll get you coffee, then we need to hit the stores, and then I’ll let you mess with me.”
“You want to go shopping?” I ask, surprised at his plan for the day.
He laughs softly and twists to sit on the side of the mattress. “No . . . not shopping, nothing even remotely like shopping, I promise,” he says, crossing his finger over his heart.
Leaning back toward me, he chuckles against my mouth and pinches my ass. “Just quickly stopping in a few retail establishments to pick up some necessities.”
“Yeah,” I respond, gently slapping his twisted arm before grabbing it.
Sitting up, I lean against his back, keeping his body close to mine a little longer. “I’m pretty sure that is the definition of shopping.”
As I lean over his shoulder, his head turns toward me and I kiss him. I caress his tongue with mine and taste him thoroughly before pulling away. Sliding over to the other side of the mattress, I stand up and stretch.
Still sitting, twisted with his feet on the floor, his eyes roam my body and my skin begins to tingle. I bite down on my lip at the sight of him and try to focus on what has always been my morning priority, coffee. But even the thought of my beloved morning coffee can’t suppress my insatiable desire for him.
He stands up and lets his unyielding gaze weigh on me for a moment longer. “We should probably take a shower.” He has a look on his face like he’s trying to convince himself that he should leave the room.
As he stands there, grinning at me, he’s completely na**d and absolutely sexy as hell. Without saying another word, I grab my bag and saunter off to the bathroom, pushing my shirt off my shoulders and letting it fall off my body, knowing he’s watching me. Shortly after I reach the bathroom, I hear his feet padding across the wooden floor, and I know he’s headed in my direction. Game on, I win.
Having opted to wear the jeans and t-shirt I bought yesterday since they were my only clean clothes, I pull the jeans over River’s Pac-Man boxers and slip the t-shirt over my white bra with the black bow. Sliding my arms into my black leather jacket and tying my Converse sneakers, the ones I luckily threw in my overnight bag before I left home, I’m ready to visit a few retail establishments.
I haven’t been shopping in so long that I am actually a little excited. My excitement only grows as I walk out of the bathroom and see River texting on his phone. He’s wearing worn jeans, a black Ramones t-shirt, a black leather jacket, and black work boots. When he smiles at me while slipping on his black beanie, I am transported into the past, to the first time I laid eyes on him, and he’s just as sexy now as he was then.
While we’re driving, I check my many emails and listen to my voicemails. Both Grace and Aerie have left messages. I send Aerie a quick text and call Grace. I hang up just as my phone battery dies and I mention to River that I should be getting back to Laguna Beach by Wednesday. His eyes flicker to mine, and he very quietly says, “How about we take it day by day?”
I want to argue that I really need to get home, but don’t because I couldn’t care less about getting home. I just really like being with him. So instead, I smile over at him and respond, “I can’t stay with you forever, you know.” Poking him in the ribs underneath his jacket, I add, “You’ll get sick of me and all my games soon enough anyway.”
We walk into what appears to be almost a town unto itself. I have been to The Grove a handful of times. It really does have the best shopping. It hosts all of my most favorite stores including Nike Goddess, Pottery Barn, J. Crew, and H&M.
Coincidentally, the first place we hit is Pottery Barn. I’m quickly learning that shopping with River is rather comical. As we enter the store, he approaches the more-than-willing-to-help young brunette, who instantly bats her eyelashes at him. She blinks at first, as if trying to place him, but blows it off as soon he mentions the wares he’s looking for. I laugh as he jumps on one of the mattresses and tries to take me with him. In a matter of no more than thirty minutes, we have selected neutral bedding, soft towels, and fluffy pillows. We also select a mattress, box spring, and a black leather tufted headboard. The flirty salesgirl didn’t have to bat her eyelashes to convince him to add the coordinating nightstands; he would have done it anyway. He quickly pays and arranges delivery for later today.
As we walk among the stores, his arm slung over my shoulder and my hand in his back pocket, he tells me that he wants to take me to a place called Smitten’s tonight. It’s a local neighborhood bar that The Wilde Ones have been practicing at every Tuesday night for over five years. He informs me I’ll get to meet his brother, sister, and bandmates. That makes me a little nervous, but I’m more excited to finally see him perform with his band.
Our next stop is Williams Sonoma where we select the newest Starbucks coffee pot and purchase coffee pods, cookware, modern white plates, and silverware. Once again, as he pays, he arranges for it all to be delivered later today.
As we walk through the very festive outdoor mall, we pass by an H&M. “Mind if I duck in and grab a few things?”
Nodding, he motions with his head to the side and says, “I’ll be over there. I have a few calls to return,” then he kisses me, slides his nose to my ear and whispers, “So take your time.” He knows what that does to me. I smile at him and run my fingers up his stomach. “It won’t take that long.”
I quickly select a few things to hold me over until I figure out if River has a washer and dryer or until I go home. Approaching the cash register, I hear the urgent pulsing, almost soaring track of an unmistakable musical opus. The distorted vocals, heavy electronic chords, and pounding bass beat all mixed together are undeniably the masterpiece of Justin Timberlake’s Sexy Back.
Looking around to figure out where the music is coming from, I finally determine it is my purse singing. As the word sexy blares out and the lyrics of the first verse come to an end, I can’t help but smile and step out of line. Reaching into my bag, I grab my phone. The name River Wilde is flashing across my screen.
“Heeelllooo,” I beam, glancing toward the front of the store. There he is, leaning against the wall between two glass window cases. His foot is propped against the pink flowery wallpaper of the store’s decor. He has one of his hands in his pocket and the other is holding his phone to his ear. He smiles his full dimple smile and I smile back. Holding his phone out for me to see, he then puts it back to his ear. “Do you like the ringtone I picked?”
I watch as he pushes the phone to his shoulder as a couple of fan girls approach him, pens in their hands. He gives them an obligatory grin and signs the back of one’s shirt and the shoulder of the other’s. Shaking my head and rolling my eyes that he claimed no one really notices him; I bring myself back to the ringtone issue. I guess he must have assigned himself that ringtone when he added us to each other’s contacts. “Yeah, I do actually, Mr. I’m Not Really That Famous,” I answer while giving him a thumbs up and raising my shoulder indicating that I want an autograph too while miming a pen in my hand. Then I add while giggling, “But I didn’t know sexy ever left.”
Shaking his own head, he hangs up the phone. I almost stop breathing from his perfection as he charmingly waves goodbye to his two groupies and starts walking toward me. I step out of line to greet him. “Hey sexy didn’t you . . .” I start to ask when he’s close enough, but he ducks his head and kisses me, quickly preventing me from finishing my question.
