Decker's Wood (5 page)

“I’ll give you a hand after dinner, if you feel up to it that is. Don’t feel that you’re being rude if you want me to go; you might have plans or something.” Andi watched me curiously as I put the groceries on the counter in the kitchen.

“No plans. Don’t really know anyone to make plans with. You went shopping?” she asked, not even attempting to hide the surprise in her voice. Hell, I was surprised.

“Yep, I needed a few things so I grabbed you some stuff. You’ve probably already done a grocery run, but I figured since I was at the store I might as well grab a few things.”

“I haven’t really done the grocery thing, I’ve been living off pizza, hotdogs, and cereal.” She was quiet as I began putting things away. “I don’t get it,” she said.

“Get what?” I asked as I put the cold stuff in the fridge. I was fascinated with this fridge. It looked so old on the outside, I half expected mold and fungus when I opened it, but it had a pleasantly modern interior.

“Bradley told me you didn’t have female friends. Well, ones you didn’t sleep with anyway. But you seem to be doing okay with me. Mind you, it’s only been a couple of weeks and I’ve barely seen you, so it’s probably a bit premature to go making assumptions about you.” I turned with a frown set in place and Andi’s expression suddenly morphed to one of shock. “That’s not why you’re here now is it? Is this a booty call? Because I’m flattered and all, but you’re not really my type. I mean, you’re hot, but you’re Bradley’s best friend for goodness sake. And I’ve known you forever, not that I really know know you anymore. I mean, people change, right? And it’s been like thirteen, fourteen years? But even if I got to know know you, I think having sex would be weird. Shit, that’s not going to make things awkward is it? Me rejecting you?”

I laughed at her rambling. “Cool it, Country. I’m not doing this in some attempt to get into your cotton-tail panties and I’ve got plenty of female friends, most of whom I’ve slept with, but we still maintain friendships. I’m not a total ass. And there is nothing to reject because I’m not interested either.” I wasn’t interested. My dick seemed to be, but I wasn’t. It was a physical response, nothing more—just wanted to get that straight. Andi
relaxed, leaning back against the kitchen counter, chewing on her bottom lip in thought.

“What makes you think my panties are cotton?” she said with a smirk.

I laughed. “You’ve got that look, you know, immensely comfortable not only in your own skin but also in your underwear.”

Andi grinned as she grabbed another slice of pizza. “So, friends…without benefits, you’re cool with that?” she asked with her mouth full of food again. It was kinda disgusting, but I liked her unladylike manners.

“I’ve got a feeling it will be no hardship being your friend, Andi. Just keep your clothes on and we’ll be fine.” I joked, sort of…not really. I was pretty sure if I saw her naked, I would either unman myself by coming in my pants or jump her bones like a mindless animal.

“Cool. Well, since you think you got me and my cotton-tails all figured out, how about you tell me a little more about yourself.”

I leaned against the counter opposite her. “It seems like Bradley filled you in on quite a bit.” She passed me the pizza box, and I grabbed a slice. Damn, the little beast had eaten half the pizza already.

“He obviously didn’t get your profession right. What do you do?”

I shook my head. No way was I telling her that now. I was fairly sure she would no more want to be friends than shovel shit. Why it felt imperative to be her friend, I had no idea. Maybe it was because I had known her for so long that I felt a sense of protectiveness towards her. Maybe it was because she was my best friend’s family. Or it was quite possible my dick was in charge right now and I wasn’t thinking straight.

“Nu
huh, that’s one you’re going to have to figure out on your own. Ask me something else.”

“Fine. Do you wear cotton underwear?”

I laughed easily. I was actually enjoying a girl’s company, and I wasn’t trying to get in her panties. My body was enjoying her company on a whole other level, and I was pretty sure I was going to have to have words with my protesting cock, but I actually liked being here, just hanging out. Andi was easy-going and genuine; she lacked the tiring intensity and predatory sexual nature of most of my female friends, and in turn, I found myself comfortable around her.

“I don’t wear underwear,” I confessed, and she blushed.

“Did you have a dog when you were a kid?” she asked quickly, changing the subject.

“Ummm, no. Why?” She shrugged, grabbing for another piece of pizza. The girl was a machine.

“I just wanted to know if you were one of those cute little boys who had a dog named Buddy that went everywhere with you and you loved with your whole heart and soul, or if you were one of those disturbing little kids who plucked the wings off flies and got off on torturing kittens.” I didn’t answer, I just stared at her, trying to figure out this random thought process. “Men who have pets and treat them well tend to do the same with people. It’s a sign of character.”

I shook my head at her logic, but answered her anyway, “I had a cat named Axel Rose. He was sixteen-years-old when he died of old age. He slept at the bottom of my bed every night, and I never once forgot to feed him.” I liked cats. Bradley was most likely the only other person to know that fact.

“Really? Axel Rose?” she asked with a wistful smile. I nodded and Andi got a dreamy look on her face.

“The only man who could wear
lycra bike pants and look sexy. I would have married him, but he didn’t do country. That was a deal breaker right there.” I wasn’t sure any man looked good in bike pants. “Tea or coffee?” she burst out suddenly.

“Tea, chamomile.”

She screwed up her nose at that. “Book, TV, or music?”

“All three at once, TV muted of course.”

“Romance, action, or horror?”

I chuckled at the inquiry taking place. “Action.” She was quiet for a moment. “Do I pass?” I wondered out loud. “Am I a good guy or not?”

“You pass. At this stage you are ticking the good guy boxes, but I reserve final judgment until we’ve hung out for longer than a day. I really didn’t take you for a cat kinda guy though,” she mused. “Or tea. I think you’ve been influenced too heavily by Bradley and his English addiction.”

I shrugged. “What can I say, tea calms me, and I love pussy.”

Andi rolled her eyes and groaned loudly. “Well, I walked myself right into that one, didn’t I?” I agreed and passed the pizza box back her way. There was only one slice left. “I don’t think I can. I mean, I’m seconds away from popping the button on my jeans and letting my pudge hang out.” I automatically looked down at her tummy which looked as flat as it had twenty minutes ago. Where the hell did she tuck all that food away?

“Oh screw it, I’ll manage,” she said, grabbing the pizza. MACH-INE!

ANDI

The next morning, I pulled on my oldest, most unfashionable and embarrassing sweats and began cleaning. It was a Big and Rich kind of day, and the music blared through the speakers my iPhone was docked to, “Save a Horse Ride a Cowboy” spilling off my lips, completely off key. Sorry, boys. My hips were swinging and I was busting out into the occasional line dance move as I continued to unpack the never ending supply of boxes and scrub down everything in sight. By lunch time, I had worked myself into a hot mess. My hair had begun to pull free of its ponytail, sweat dripped down my cheeks and back, and my clothes were covered in dust and grime. I was starving like a ravenous animal and found myself wondering if I could bring myself to eat the disgusting can of spaghetti Decker had generously brought me. The man was truly a paradox of confusing memories and Bradley’s hearsay. I had been prepared for arrogant, smug Decker who couldn’t do ‘serious’ for longer than a minute. I hadn’t been prepared for kind, sweet, thoughtful Decker though, the man who brought me pizza, helped me assemble my bookshelf, and took out the trash. I found myself curiously intrigued by the complexity of this man, and unfortunately, very much attracted to his pure, masculine beauty. I had lost count of how many times I had replayed the scene in the back room of my book store the day I arrived here. In my own dirty girl mind, I had climbed his body and wrapped my legs around his waist. Eventually we worked our way free of clothing and I found my back pressed against the wall while Decker kissed and licked at my mouth, his hard length pressing against me, creating the sweetest friction, bringing my body to life. My hot Decker moment was interrupted by the front door opening.

“Knock knock,”
sang a male voice with a feminine lilt to it.

I forced away the unfamiliar tightness in my body, that throbbing need that had been absent for longer than I cared to remember. I drew out a long breath, finding my calm place before facing the voice that I was sure belonged to my new neighbor. I had met Casey my first day here. He was fascinating, flighty and lovable, and I had immediately found a kinship with him.
His partner, Lionel, had been away for the last two weeks though, and I had yet to meet him. Casey had been swamped with the grooming salon on his own, so I had barely seen him for more than a distant friendly wave.

“Nobody walks into a room saying knock, knock anymore, you cock queen. It’s like I’m trapped in a never ending kiddy joke,” came an unfamiliar voice.

I jumped to my feet and peered curiously over the bookshelf. I smiled at the sight before me. Casey wore a pair of tight leather pants with an equally tight spandex shirt. His hair was a little longer on top, shaved at the sides and back in some Miley Cyrus knock off. The second man, who I assumed was Lionel, was dressed completely in white; casual cotton white pants with a silk button up white shirt and leather sandals. It seemed a little too bohemian and earthly for New York . Lionel was scowling at Casey who was ignoring him. Their eyes met mine at the same time. “There she is,” crooned Casey.

“Hi,” I whispered, a little surprised.

“Andi, I’d like you to meet the man in my life. He lacks a sense of humor, he’s far too responsible, his taste in clothing leaves a lot to be desired, and he has a fetish for collecting doilies. And for some reason, I still love him. This is Lionel,” said Casey, tilting his head Lionel’s way. “We came by to officially welcome you to the neighborhood. We brought cake.”

Casey flipped open the lid on the box, and my eyes must have grown to the size of saucers. The multilayered, chocolate heart-attack waiting to happen looked wicked enough to wipe Decker clean from my mind. I wiped my chin to make sure I wasn’t drooling.

“Hi, Lionel, it’s nice to meet you,” I said, stepping around the bookshelf, my eyes fixed on the cake.

“It’s nice to meet you too, Andi. And there is nothing wrong with the way I dress,” Lionel added, casting Casey a small frown.

As I stepped forward, the two men looked me up and down with equally impressive frowns.

“She’s got that whole Cinderella thing going on, doesn’t she?” murmured Casey.

I ignored his jab at my attire; I had a date with a cake. “Ya’ll want to come up to the studio and split that?” I nodded to the cake. Both men nodded and smiled as they followed me to the stairs that led to my apartment.

“You really shouldn’t just invite strangers into your home,” Lionel said with a shaking of his finger.

“Well, I’ve already met Casey, so he’s not a stranger, and I’m assuming my virtue is safe as you’re both gay, right?” I asked matter-of-factly.

“Whatever gave it away?” Casey gasped with sarcasm.

I glanced over my shoulder as they followed me up the stairs. “Well, if the cock queen comment on your entry didn’t give it away, the spandex would have.”

As we stepped into my apartment, the men began inspecting everything like a scientist might a new species of bug.

“I’ve been begging Casey to give up the spandex for years. He’s like a dog with a bone though; once he grabs hold of something, he just refuses to put it down.”

“Spandex is a privilege, not a right. So while I’m privileged enough to pull it off, I might as well. And, as I recall, you don’t mind when I play with your bone,” purred Casey.

I coughed, trying to disguise my bark of laughter as I found some plates in one of the many unpacked boxes. I also managed to find a knife and quickly dissected the chocolate heaven into three slices and plated it up. As I handed Lionel his he looked aghast.

“You’re going to eat all of that?” he asked, surprised.

I shoved a spoonful of cake in my mouth and groaned loudly. “Uh huh,” was all I could manage.

“Where on earth do you put it?” Casey asked seriously as he looked me over. I was small, and I had a fast metabolism. As a teenager, I had bordered on ridiculously skinny and had been the butt of many toothpick jokes. I secretly hoped those perfectly rounded teenage bodies were now huge and unhappy.

“Leave the girl alone, you shrew,” chastised Lionel as he sat at my small kitchen table. “I love this setting, shabby chic, very fashionable.”

“Ohhh, you’ve got one of those vintage refrigerators. It’s adorable!” squealed Casey, opening the fridge to show Lionel how modern it was inside.

“If you need any help with this,” Lionel glanced around at my boxes, “just say the word.”

“What Lionel means is, as well as his doily fetish, he harbors a small obsession for organization and systematic structure and arrangement.”

The spoon froze on its way to my mouth.

“I like to organize things. There is nothing wrong with an orderly and functional home,” Lionel explained, giving Casey a hard look.

“He’s a neat freak,” Casey murmured out the corner of his mouth as he continued to flutter about the apartment, glancing in boxes. “I love this bed.” He grinned. “You sleep there all alone?”

I raised a brow at his too forward line of questioning.

“Ever the subtle one,” sighed Lionel.

“What I meant to say is will that fine piece of man-candy who’s popped by a couple of times be staying over often?”

I almost choked on my cake. After I finished coughing, I shook my head. “No, that’s Decker. He’s just a friend.”

“A friend who you might have over to play poker?” Casey waggled his eyebrows. “Get it, poke-her?” he persisted, making a circle with his thumb and pointer finger, sticking his other pointer finger through it. It was so crude and adolescent, I couldn’t help but laugh.

“No, not that kind of poker, Decker is a friend without benefits.”

Lionel and Casey both grinned wickedly.

“Is he gay?” they both asked in unison then immediately scowled at each other.

“You guys are together, right?” I asked, wondering about their interest in Decker.

“We are, seven years this Christmas.” Casey gave Lionel a wicked smile, and Lionel blushed. The genuine look of love and friendship was clearly evident in their adoring gazes. There was a connection there, a bond. I sighed out loud.

“Damn, don’t look at each other like that. It just makes me feel pathetic and miserable.”

Casey snorted. “So, you’re single?” I nodded. “Then why is Decker a friend without benefits then? Is he married?” I shook my head. “Is he a drug dealer? Murderer? Pimp? Does he have erectile dysfunction?” I shook my head again and no doubt blushed at the recollection of Decker’s highly functioning member against my body. “Then why on earth does that slice of heaven not come with benefits?”

“We’ve known each other a really long time, even though we haven’t seen each other in a really long time. So we’re old friends, but pretty much strangers.” Wow, that sounded really confusing in my head. “And I just moved here and left behind a triage of failed relationships, I think I’m going to try abstinence.”

Lionel and Casey sucked back a startled gasp.

“Don’t speak blasphemy,” scoffed Casey. “An adorable little stunner like you shouldn’t have any trouble having the vayjay tuned regularly. Lionel and I will help you find a technician.” Lionel nodded in agreement.

“Oh no you don’t, I’m not a charity case that needs to be fixed up. As for my vayjay, well, it will do just fine without male intervention. I have a technician and he runs on batteries.”

It was Lionel’s turn to choke on the cake.

“While I have nothing against battery operated loving, I also know for a fact that nothing compares to the real thing. I should know, I have the real thing and so does my boyfriend,” said Casey with a serious expression. Oh god, I shook my head and laughed. “You know, we are going to be great friends,” he said with a genuine smile.

I had no doubt that we would be great friends. He was forward, brash
, and excitable, everything I looked for in friend.

“Stop it. You’re scaring the girl, you fralker,” snapped Lionel
.

“Fralker?” I dared ask.

“Someone who is constantly stalking for friends,” Lionel explained.

“Ooookayyyy.” I drew out. “So, I’m like your fralkee or something?” Both Lionel and Casey stared at me like I had grown a second head. “It’s like a word mash up. Employee, stalkee, friend…ee…”

Casey shook his head and tsked me. “A lot to learn, yes you do, my Padawan. So, explain to me in simple terms why Mr. Tall, Strong, and Fuckable is unattainable.”

I groaned and banged my head on the table in front of me. “We are friends,” I growled out. They both stared at me.

“Every girl needs a friend who will laugh at her and with her, the fact he could also give her orgasms is a bonus,” Casey said so matter-of-factly.

“His best friend is practically my brother!” I shouted.

Lionel leaned towards Casey and whispered, “I’m not seeing the problem here.”

“He’s got some sketchy job that requires nudity and he won’t tell me about it.”

The men’s eyes seemed to grow with excitement.

“He’s a stripper?” Casey burst out.

“He says no, but I’m thinking maybe.” I was chewing on my nails now, a sure sign of anxiety.

“Ohhhhh,” groaned Casey in an almost orgasmic way. “She’s got her very own Magic Mike. Do you have any idea how sexy it will be when he dances just for you?” It was my turn to flat out stare. “Okay, okay, so he’s got some secrets, that’s mysterious and sexy, not a problem.”

“We should have a party,” Lionel exclaimed, and Casey literally jumped from his chair and began dancing around the room.

“O…M…G
.!”
OMG? Who talks like that?
“I knew I loved you for a reason. Come on, we need to start planning.” Casey dragged Lionel from his chair. I was assaulted with air kisses and the men disappeared out of my apartment on a breeze of mind boggling, gay enthusiasm. I had no idea what had just happened or what they were planning, but I just knew it would end up being awkward for me.

*

It was three days before I saw Decker again. I had been tempted more than once to call him, especially when I decided to sort through the boxes in the back storeroom that were littered with rat poop. Instead, I made Lionel come over and rat-check everything for me. I had pushed the three large boxes of my dad’s paperbacks to one corner; I wasn’t ready to deal with them just yet. The one year anniversary of his death was only two short weeks away. I just needed to get through that and then I would think about putting memories of him on display.

The day Decker decided to drop by unannounced, I, of course, had to be standing on the top of a ladder in a tiny pair of denim cut offs that sat precariously below my ass. I was sweating like a whore in church as my air conditioner was out, so the front of my shirt ended up tied in a knot right under my breasts in an effort to get some cool air on my skin. With a wet paintbrush
in hand, I was reaching for a high spot, the paint balanced on the top rung of the ladder. Stretched on tippy-toes and singing loudly to Carrie Underwood’s “All-American Girl”, I didn’t notice the front door open.

“Sweet mother of…” came a voice from behind me.

I pulled my arm down too fast and knocked the can of paint down. In my attempt to rescue the entire can and making one hell of a mess, I lost my balance. Just when I thought I was about to fall out of my New York dream, two very big hands grabbed my thighs, steadying me.