Everlasting Bad Boys (28 page)

Beth almost finished her croissant before he swiped the rest, just in case he didn’t have another one. It was really good. “You should have tried a frat house. It’s full of brainless bodies in reasonably good condition.”

“We didn’t think of that.”

“So what happened?” She looked at Justin as the last bite went into her mouth.

“Wind got to know this dancer, a great guy, a real wild man who performed at Birdland sometimes. One night he jumped so high he didn’t come back down, mentally speaking. But his body was there and Wind slipped in.”

Beth nodded. “Wow. How’d that work out?”

Justin put the dishes and cups into the sink. “Eventually the dancer did come back and Wind got evicted. He did a deal with a basketball player from the West Fourth Street team next. Sometimes he has the body, sometimes the basketball player does. I understand that Wind likes being really tall.”

“I bet,” Beth said. “So how’d you find yours?”

“The MIT guy wanted a challenge. He called in a few favors, found someone at Harvard, a young guy who was a professor of Eastern religions. He transcended physical reality on his way to nirvana and he didn’t want to be saddled with this body or reincarnated so I got it.”

“Permanently?”

“Yup. Works really well. Added some custom-built improvements, though.”

“So I noticed,” Beth said wryly.

“It felt good right from the start. I had to figure out how not to burn it up. I scorched a few shirts when I started, burned holes in my boxers, that kind of thing.”

“I’m not sure I want to know how,” Beth said.

“What can I say? I’m a man on fire.”

She shook her head, but she smiled anyway.

“Are we done with the questions? I actually would like to get some work done today.” He slid off the stool.

“Excuse me?” Beth said. “You just announce you’re made of light and you used to not even have a body and I don’t get to ask questions? You plant your butt right back on that stool.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He did as she asked.

“Where does all the money come from? You seem to have an awful lot of it.”

“Energy futures. I played the market. Did really well, got out while I was ahead.”

“That explanation is way too short.”

He smirked. “It happens to be totally true. I paid cash for this place.”

“Wait until you see mine,” she said with a groan.

“I’d love to.”

“It’s just me and Freddy and—”

“Who’s Freddy?”

“My ancient cat. And Miss Boom Bah. She’s my coatrack. I’m not bringing you home.”

“Have it your way,” he said reluctantly. “But it still doesn’t seem fair.”

“You know what, Justin? Life isn’t fair. You being an everlasting being really isn’t fair to me. I can’t get a new body like you can. If you’re mortal, it’s one to a customer.”

He looked at her worriedly. “You sure about that?”

“Yes!’ she said with instant exasperation. “Enjoy me while it lasts.”

“Does that work in reverse? Are you going to enjoy me?”

“Yes,” she said a lot more slowly. “I had a good cry in the shower about it and that—that’s pretty much what I decided. I mean, it’s crazy, but I’ve been crazy before about guys who didn’t hold a candle to—who couldn’t outshine—I give up,” she cried out, “they weren’t you. And I want you. For as long as I can have you. I may wake up in Bellevue with a team of shrinks at my side when it’s all over, but for right now, I want you.”

“That’s a start,” Justin said.

“When I’m with you, my heart feels…light. That’s the only way I can explain it.”

“Works for me.”

Beth patted his cheek. “But please try not to turn colors and glow in public.”

“I never have,” he said. “That happened after you and I had sex. I don’t know why, though. Want me to ask the MIT guy?”

“No way.” She looked at him, aghast. A strange man with a pocket protector finding out all the fascinating details of what she liked to do in bed? Absolutely no freaking way. “This is strictly between you and me. No one else is going to know about this.”

“Okay,” Justin said. “I promise. No one will.”

“L
et’s get going. I want to take you to Times Square. Part of the installation is up.”

He was done explaining, evidently.

Beth looked down at what she was wearing. “I guess I’d better change.”

“Why? You look great.”

“Will there be other SpectraSign people there?”

“Maybe.” He narrowed his eyes at her. “So?”

“I could just embroider
I’m fucking the boss
over the pocket of your shirt in case they can’t figure it out.”

“You worry too much.”

She leaned in close to make sure he understood. “Listen, Mr. Born Yesterday, you have never owned a real live company before. Gossip travels faster than the speed of light.”

“Really?” he said, genuinely curious. “Can I look up the physics on that? I don’t think Einstein covered the subject.”

Beth shook her head dismissively. “What else can I borrow of yours? Got something that doesn’t look so morning-after?”

“Sweats?”

“Okay.” He gestured for her to follow him and they headed back to his bedroom, where he pulled open a dresser drawer filled with neatly folded sweatshirts and pants. “I’ll find something.”

“Have at.” Justin sat on the bed, looking around the room but mostly at her. Suddenly he leaned forward and came up with a scrap of feminine lingerie. Her bra, thong, and stockings fit right into his hand, all crumpled up. “Do I have to give these back?”

Beth held up one of the smaller sweatshirts in a nondescript gray. It would do.

“I need the bra right now. You can wash the rest and then give them back.”

He grinned wolfishly. “I would be honored to see these dripping from my shower rack. Just seeing that thong on you was enough to blow my mind forever.”

“Yeah,” she said, unbuttoning the shirt. “That’s nice.” She put it on the bed and extracted the bra from his unwilling hand.

Justin stared, fascinated, as she clasped it, spun it around her waist, and flipped it up over her boobs. “Mind if I drool?”

“Aren’t you the one who wanted to get going?”

He sighed. “Yeah.”

She slipped on the sweatshirt and looked in the drawer for black pants that wouldn’t look too weird with the dress shoes she’d worn last night. The sweatshirt would fit under her jacket and she could buy a bright scarf from a street vendor on the way. Something in neon green, perhaps. No one would look at anything but a neon green scarf, especially if it had long fringe. And it might be windy up on the roof where the installation was in progress, so she had a reason to be wearing it.

Done rationalizing, nearly dressed, she looked around for her shoes, wiggling her bare feet in his plush bedroom carpet.

He looked at them fondly. “Want your toes sucked?”

“Not right now.” She rumpled his hair and he turned his head to give her a love bite on the meaty part of her thumb. Look at us, she marveled silently. Acting like honeymooners. Even after just one night, it felt like that to be with him.

But there was a part of having sex with Justin that was troublesome. What had he said?
It seems to be catching.

She’d assumed she’d been able to wash off the dash of moving light on her face, but that was a pretty big assumption. True, the dash had seemed more superficial than his full-body light show, but she didn’t know enough about the nature of the phenomenon to be totally sure. Versed in useless comic-book lore, she knew it wouldn’t come in handy now—hey, it never had, except for online arguments with fanboys and other maniacs. And her marketing degree from Hofstra hadn’t required physics.

In a word, she might be fucked if they ever fucked again. So they weren’t going to until she got that aspect of the connection between them figured out.

Justin was still sitting there, giving her adoring looks, her dirty underwear and stockings forgotten in his hand. Why oh why did she have to fall for a cute guy from the wrong side of the asteroid belt? It really, really wasn’t fair.

Beth bent down to plant an absentminded kiss on his forehead. “Let’s get going,” she said when she straightened up. Then she spotted her shoes under the nightstand and slipped them on. “Sweatpants and high heels,” she said. “It’s a look.”

“I love it on you,” Justin said loyally.

It was breezy up on the rooftop. Beth pulled a mouthful of long, neon-green fringe out of her mouth and tucked the ends of the scarf into her jacket. Justin was checking the installation with two guys from the SpectraSign tech department, so she was free to walk around. A New York City roof was an interesting place to be when you had nothing else important to do.

She went near the edge of the rooftop, looking out over a low wall rounded with asphalt tiles and decades’ worth of slapped-on tar. There were pigeons perched on it, cooing and bobbing their heads, stepping to keep their balance in the breeze. One wrinkly, pink bird foot stepped on another and they all flapped in an irritated way. But basically, they were just like most New Yorkers. They got along somehow.

Times Square was teeming with people, tourists, office workers, oddballs. It was like watching a very colorful river that twisted around and doubled back. A river that had yellow taxis bobbing in the middle of the current.

Justin called her name softly as he came up behind her, and she turned around. “Hey. Didn’t want to startle you so near the edge of the roof.”

“Thanks,” she said.

He leaned in a little closer like he was going to give her a kiss, but she glared at him and shook her head.

“Right,” he said, glancing at the tech guys, who hadn’t seen a thing. “Almost forgot. Sorry.” A sign rigger had joined the two men and was helping them set up panels that would eventually become part of the main sign.

He got closer to the roof edge and looked over. “There’s our pedestrian survey person.” He waved and Beth looked into the surging crowds. A young woman in a baseball cap holding a clipboard was waving back, a clicker in her hand.

“What does she do again?”

“She counts people passing by and divides them by gender. That way we have an idea who sees the sign.”

“Eyeballs are everything,” Beth said wryly.

He unrolled the layouts he’d kept under his arm. It flapped wildly in the breeze and he set it down on the curved rooftop wall, pinning it with spread-out fingers. Beth got close enough to help him so he could have a hand free.

She held down a corner and he pointed to the first panel. “The model enters here, in the first video panel, walking from the background. Then,” he pointed to the second panel, “he comes in closer and he gets bigger and bigger and starts to fill all the panels.”

“Oh, boy.”

“Then he towers over Times Square, throbbing with manliness,” Justin said. “You can let go. What do you think?”

“It’s okay.” She raised her hand and the layout rolled itself back up into his hand. “Oughta sell plenty of jeans.”

“That’s the idea.” One of the tech guys called him and he looked over that way. “Gotta go. You good over here?”

“Yeah. I’m having fun. Don’t worry about me.”

Justin winked at her and turned around.

Beth resumed her absentminded viewing of the panorama of Times Square. This would have to be one hell of a sign to compete with what was already up.

Her personal favorite—the giant, steaming Cup O’ Noodles—was gone, replaced by an extravaganza of rippling colors that was eye-popping even in daylight. Half-naked women in high heels seemed to stalk over rooftops, eyed disdainfully or ignored by male underwear models on different billboards.

Giant cell phones revolved like objects of worship; gazed at by the happy customers of online dating sites. Music, candy, Broadway shows, movie posters, an endless digital ribbon of repeating headlines—it all moved, shouted, tickled the eye. If the Blue Blaze sign managed to stand out, it would be a marketing miracle.

Several hours later, they were seated at a table for two at Capsouto Frères. Beth looked around the serene space. Linen tablecloths, pale cream walls that glowed softly, classic menu—this place was posh and nothing like the Cowgirl Hall of Fame on Hudson Street, where she usually ate out if she was going to splurge.

No margaritas in mason jars here. No lethal chili. No vanilla-ice-cream fake potatoes dusted with cocoa for a nice brown skin and topped with whipped cream and peppermint chives.

She slipped a spoon into her onion soup, lifting up the bread and cheese crust to get at the oniony broth underneath, sipping it daintily. Then she looked up at him. “Why are you smiling like that?”

“I didn’t know you could eat with utensils,” he laughed.

“Oh. Well, I can. And a fork makes an excellent catapult for a roll.” She took one out of the breadbasket and positioned it on the curving tines. “Don’t tempt me.”

“Okay, fair enough.”

They polished off their soup and just sat there looking at each other for several awkward moments. Hot soup, good wine, unqualified adoration—a triple threat to her sanity.

“So.” Justin set an elbow on the table and rested his chin in one hand. “What do you want to do tonight?”

“I should go home,” she said primly.

“And where’s that again?”

“Near Hudson Street. Not all that far from here.”

He looked really happy about that. In fact, his eyes started to glow.

“Don’t do that,” she said hastily.

“I’m just sitting here looking at you.”

Beth looked around the restaurant. “No, you’re glowing at me. Any minute now you’re going to look like a sign in Times Square.”

The intensity in his eyes faded. “Do you honestly think anyone in New York would notice if I did?”

“They might.”

He straightened up. “And is that, like, a bad reflection on you?”

“No, Justin.” She fussed with her silverware and took the roll off the fork, tossing it back in the breadbasket. “It’s just that—I don’t know.”

“Beth,” he said. “You’re not exactly making yourself clear.”

She took a nice, deep, calming breath. “The light thing just makes me nervous, that’s all. We have to talk about it.”

Justin grinned and looked very pleased. “Hey, this is my first we-have-to-talk moment. I guess I’m a real guy after all.”

“That’s exactly my point,” she said, a little more crisply than she’d intended. “You’re not.”

Justin blew out his breath. “Last night you seemed happy enough. Maybe I don’t have a whole hell of a lot of experience, but that seemed like great sex to me.”

Another burning question that hadn’t occurred to her until then. How had he learned everything he knew? He hadn’t been in that gorgeous body all that long, even if it was permanently his. Beth surveyed him. He sure did look real. Big chest, broad shoulders, ribbed sweater. Tousled dark hair, crinkly eyes, dimple. All the damn details added up perfectly. She’d seen several women check him out, cast a disapproving eye at the black sweatpants accessorized with the neon-green scarf that she still had on, and go right back to poking at their collapsed soufflés.

There was one at the very next table. Beth smiled thinly at her and the watching woman returned it, giving her a very small smile that was even thinner than hers—a trimmed fingernail of a smile. The woman, who had been eating alone, got up and sauntered to the coat check area while the maitre d’ fussed over her and took care of the bill.

Beth turned her full attention to Justin. “How and where did you learn to make love like that?”

“Um, the look and learn method.”

“You perv.”

He held up his hands in a whaddya-want-from-me gesture. “Hey, I was sunlight. Even moonlight, sometimes. That’s just a reflection, really. I was everywhere, all the time. But invisible. You see a lot, you pick up a few pointers.”

Beth frowned.

“You weren’t objecting to anything I did,” he said slyly.

“Okay, granted.” She had to concede the point. “It was great. And you are who you are. I can’t argue with that.”

“So what’s bothering you?”

Beth leaned back as the waiter silently set down their entrées. She wasn’t hungry at all. Justin picked up his fork and knife and went to work “The light that was on me—or in me—for a little while. You said it seemed to be catching.”

He nodded and chewed.

“Is it?”

She watched him swallow and cut another bite. “Dunno,” he said before his mouth was filled with food again.

“So is it theoretically possible that I could somehow leave my body the way you entered yours, and become pure light?”

He thought that over, then pushed his food away. “Guess we’d better get this wrapped up to go.”

“Fine with me.” She hadn’t even touched hers.

He motioned the waiter over and made some excuse about having to leave. Then he turned his attention back to her. “Anything’s theoretically possible. Whether it would actually happen is hard to say. The sexual connection did seem to trigger it.”

Beth nodded, fixing him with a meaningful look.

Justin reached for his wallet and pulled out a credit card. “I think I know where this is going.”

“Good.”

“You don’t want to have sex again. You’re afraid you’ll dissolve or something. What’s that called, having boundary issues?”

“Something like that. Justin, I’ve never been outside my body and I don’t think I want to be. What if I can’t get back in?”

He folded his arms across his chest. “Out-of-body experiences are great. We can take an extended vacation in the galaxy while you get used to it. You know, fly to the moon, cruise a nebula or two. Just you and me.”

“I don’t want to see a nebula. Not up close, anyway.”

His eyes got dreamy. “You sure? They’re really something. Very female. Pulsing, mysterious, beautiful—”

“No!”

“Okay, okay.”

The waiter came back with two containers in a plastic bag and Justin settled the bill. They got their coats and left.

“Can I walk you home, Beth?”

She still didn’t want him to see where she lived. Sure, he could Mapquest her address from her resume and find out for himself, but inviting him in was something else again. It was too intimate, somehow.

You let him inside your body,
said a little voice in her head.
It doesn’t get any more intimate than that.
She decided to ignore the little voice.