Good Sensations (3 page)

“If cost wasn’t an issue, is that where you’d want to eat?” I watch her reaction carefully. She may say no to spare her parents shelling out that kind of money, but I can never say no to her.

“Yes.”

“That’s where we’re going then. I’ll buy dinner.”

“No, Evan. It’s really expensive, like $30 an entrée or maybe more.” Her tone gets all hushed like she’s telling me a secret. “I don’t even think that includes a side.”

I chuckle because she’s cute, but also because she really seems to be clueless to how much money my family has even though she’s been to my parent’s house and seen my car in Hawaii. Actually, I don’t even know how much money my family has, but I know I don’t ever have to worry about it either. “I think I can manage. If that’s where you want to celebrate your birthday, that’s where we’ll go.”

“
Really?”

“If you want to eat at the Palace Arms then we’ll eat at the Palace Arms. I’ll do anything to make you happy.”

“I know you will and I will for you. I just wish I knew how I could do that.” I love the way she speaks from the heart.

After we finish our dinner, I go to the fridge where Sarah hid a cake I ordered from a local bakery. I set the box on the counter and open the lid. The candle they packed is there and I stick it in the top. I take the cake from the box and with my lighter, light the candle. “Turn out the light and close your eyes,” I call to her in the living room.

“What are you up to?” I can hear the happiness through her words.

I sing her Happy Birthday as I walk in and crouch in front of her. Her eyelids pop open and she gasps, covering her mouth. After setting the cake on the table in front of her, I say, “And I hope you have many more. Make a wish, baby.”

“It already came true.”

“I think you stole that line.”

She smirks. “A
Sixteen Candles
fan? Ya learn something new every day.”

“Eh, I know the girls get all mushy over that movie. Figured I should investigate.”

“Investigate, huh? Kind of like how you and Zach watched
Titanic
together?” She levels her eyes on me. “Don’t even try to lie. Kate told me all about it.”

I sit down next to her. “Fine. I watched
Titanic
. So has most of the world. As for
Sixteen Candles
, it was on TV one time when I was sick. I blame the fever for making me watch it.”

“The real question is,” she says with her hand on my knee, “did you like it?”

“I’ll never confess.”

She laughs then leans forward and blows out the candle. Falling back on the couch, she says, “You didn’t have to do that, you know?”

“A cake? Pfft. Of course, I did. What’s a birthday without cake?”

“Good point.” She swipes her finger through the frosting and brings it to her mouth, savoring the chocolate.

Irresistible. She’s completely irresistible.

Just as my tongue tastes the frosting on her lips, there’s a knock at the door. I get more comfortable on the couch, irritated by the interruption, knowing that one taste was going to lead to so much more before that knock . “You expecting company?”

“No.” She stands and walks to the door.

“Mallory? You in there?” some guy shouts from outside the door. “Sarah said you stayed home.”

“Let me guess…
ummmm
Ryan?” My sarcasm is not lost on her. Smart girl.

“He’s just a friend,” she whispers, grabbing her robe and tightening the belt. “I promise.” Before she opens the door, she looks back at me and I can see her nerves developing in her expression. “I’m sure he just wants to talk about our project or something. I’ll get rid of him and we can pick up from where we left off.”

As much as I’d love to open that door and come face-to-face with this guy, I remain on the couch, sitting in only my black boxer briefs, the ones I know she likes on me. I’m not worried about this creep seeing me. It’ll be good for him to see me like this in Mallory’s apartment. I gulp down the jealousy I have toward this guy who is spending more time with my girlfriend than I am these days, and try to play it cool.

As soon as Mallory opens the door, this Ryan guy presents her with a cupcake and a candle sticking out the top. “Like I said on campus today, everyone should have cake on their—” he says, Mr. Smiling Smooth until he sees me staring back at him. He shakes his head, putting two and two together as he looks between us. I think the lack of attire clued him in. I inwardly laugh as he scrambles to play off that he showed up at his current obsession’s place to find that she’s just had sex with her boyfriend. “Hey man,” he says, “you must be Evan?”

My chest heats inside, feeling a lot like heartburn, but I know the difference these days. This jerk-off actually believes I’m not onto him. What is he expecting? Are we supposed to be besties because we both surprised
my
girlfriend with cake? Yeah, right, fucker. I stand up when Ryan strides across the living room with an outstretched arm, offering a handshake.

“Yeah, and you are?” I play dumb.

“I’m Ryan. I brought Mallory a cupcake. I thought she might be down since she didn’t come to the party. You know how that is,” he says as if that justifies his presence in my girlfriends’ apartment.

I take his hand because it’s the right thing to do, but I’m not happy about it. “How do you know Mallory?” It’s best for him to think she’s never mentioned him before, ultimately showing his unimportance in her life. But then another thought occurs and I get pissed wondering if this guy
is
important to her.

“I’m one of Mallory’s friends from school,” he explains, a little too flagrantly for my liking.

“We’re assigned to the same group in English class. Yeah…” he says not finishing whatever he was going to say and shoves his hands into his pant pockets. I think I make him nervous, which is good. He should be nervous.

“We’re working on a project together,” Mallory says, interrupting, obviously hoping to water down their relationship and the situation.

It’s not working because I saw the disappointment in his eyes as soon as he saw me sitting here. We stand in silence, an uncomfortable tension filling in the room and I begin to gloat because I’m back. The boyfriend is back in the picture and he’ll have to try to fuck someone else’s girlfriend. But something he said stands out and I call him on it. “You said, ‘You know how that is.’ How
what
is?”

“You know. No one should be alone on their birthday. I thought maybe she was sad or something and I wanted to cheer her up.” He shrugs as if this conversation is mere chitchat.

“Why would you assume she’s sad?” I ask, tilting my head and crossing my arms over my chest, so I don’t punch him right the fuck out for acting like he knows my Mallory on such an intimate level.

“I guess I’ve interrupted,” he says with his hands momentarily in surrender before he drops them and faces Mallory, fishing for an invitation out of this situation. Yeah, you scurry along and fuck off now.

He turns back to me and I say, not mincing words, “Yes, I have lots of big plans for my girlfriend tonight and they really don’t include anyone else…
You know how that is.
” I throw his words back at him. He gets the message loud and clear and walks back to the door that was never closed—another good hint for him to take-off. “Good meeting you, Ryan,” I add just to mess with him a little more because I’m immature like that.

I sit down while Mallory walks him to the doorway, thanking him for stopping by and for the cupcake. I don’t hear it all because I’m too caught in my own swirling emotions regarding his presence in my girlfriend’s life. But then I swear I hear a whispered apology though I don’t know what she would be apologizing for.

As soon as she closes the door, I can tell she’s pissed.
Majorly pissed.
She turns to face me, hands on hips, looking incredibly sexy, and demands, “What was that all about?”

And she says I’m the one who gets all protective and shit. “Need I remind you of your own jealous nature,
Mrs. Ashford
?” Yeah, it’s a low blow, reminding her of her jealous antics in Kauai, but she’s cute as hell when she’s like this and I just like calling her that.

She huffs. “Fine! I get it.”

“I thought you’d see it my way, baby. Now, come over here.”

Two deadbolts are locked and then she turns, narrowing her eyes at me. She may be pissed at my behavior, but I know she’ll forgive me or I have other ways of distracting her and making her forget. Which reminds me of what I tucked into the cushion earlier… “You want your birthday present?”

She straddles my lap, with her arms around my neck and a big smile on her face. “You already bought me the laptop and then flew out here. There’s nothing more I want.”

Slipping my arms around her waist, I say, “I wanted to buy it for you.”

“Was it expensive?”

I know what she’s doing. She going to justify not accepting it based on money like she always does. A gold-digger—she is not. “It doesn’t matter if it was expensive or not, I bought you what I wanted to give you. Everything else is irrelevant.”

“Because you’re being evasive about it, I can tell you spent too much. You don’t have to do that.”

“I know I don’t, but I like to. And if you’re so against pricey presents, I’ll just add it to
my
collection instead.”

“Wait!
Collection?”
she asks as if it all dawns on her all at once. “Is this a book, Evan?”

“Yes,” I say, nodding.

She takes the present and carefully opens the wrapping. While she stares at the spine, stunned, I clarify, “It’s only a 3rd edition. I couldn’t find a first or second edition in my price range.”

“Your price range? A third edition shouldn’t be in your price range either, babe. You spent too much,” she says, handing the book back to me.

“You love ‘Great Expectations’ and I wanted to give you something you love,” I state, pushing the book toward her.

She runs her fingertips over the leather embossed cover and spine, appreciating the artistry in the detail. “How’d you know I love this book so much?”

“Sunny.”

“Mmmm.” She’s shaking her head and then looks at me. “I can’t…” she starts with tears in her eyes.

“Yes, you can. It’s done. Please accept it.”

She sets it on the couch beside us and leans down to kiss me, her lips lingering a moment against mine. “Thank you for the book. It was very thoughtful of you, Evan.” She sighs and leans her forehead against mine. “You’ve given me the best birthday ever. Not because of the amazing gift but because you’re here when I needed you most.”

“Stop worrying about it. They’re very normal,” Mallory says, looking at me over her shoulder from the closet.

I watch as she sets her dress on the bed, and I say, “Your dad works for the government. If you didn’t realize it in Hawaii, I don’t usually get along well with authority figures.”

“He doesn’t work for the CIA,” she replies, rolling her eyes. Picking the dress up she slips it on.

“But Mallory, I break a lot of laws—”

“You drive a Maserati. Breaking a speed limit every now and again is kind of expected, but you’re not exactly on the FBI’s Most Wanted list, Evan, so don’t worry.” She puts her hands on my chest and rubs gently. “They’re going to love you, I promise. You know I’ve already told my mom about you, and as for my dad, he’s more a meet and judge for himself kind of guy. He trusts his first impressions, so with him, that’s your key to success.”

She turns away to spray perfume on her neck and watching her tilt her head back like that does things to me, serious things down in my pants.

She claps her hands and says, “Okay, I’m ready.”

“I’m not.”

“I’ve never seen you like this. It will be fine. I won’t let my big bad parents hurt wittle Evan.”

“Okay,
really
,” I say, shaking my head. “And no baby talk.”

She hits me on the back and says, “Then buck up and let’s go.”

We take a cab to the restaurant because I plan on having a drink or five to get me through this dinner. When we arrive, I begin sweating as I pay the driver. The taxi leaves and I stand there, gathering my nerve and try to relax. I tug at the tie I bought today when Mallory was in class, and sheepishly ask, “What’s his Achilles heel?”

She looks at me with a raised eyebrow. “I’m not giving you ammo against my dad. This will be just like meeting any other girls’ parents. I’m sure you’ve done this a million times, Romeo.”

“No, I haven’t.”

“Okay, so I exaggerated. But I’m sure it went smoother than you expected when you did meet them.”

“I’ve never met a girl’s parents before.”

She turns abruptly, staring at me. “Never?”

“No, never. My family was usually already friends with their families or they were just… a thing… you know, not important enough for that.”

A devious grin slides across her mouth, and she says, “In that case…he loves bird-watching and a good lager.”

Okay, this I can work with. “I knew I loved you.”

Too perky and snarky for her own good, she says, “Because I give you inside information to win my dad over? Not because I’m smart, beautiful, and tenacious?”