Jewel Ann - Idle Bloom

I hate that he’s right, but I’d rather gnaw off my own arm than admit it out loud.

“Sorry, Chance, I’m just … shit, I’m just not ready. I’m not saying never, just not now.”

He pats me on the shoulder. “Don’t sweat it, Bro.”

With a deep sigh, I close my eyes and try to shake the image of the one person who does make my dick twitch. And when that fails, I decide to call it a day. It doesn’t appear that my hand will be getting a rest anytime soon.

* * *

I’ve been back for two months settling into my new life. I feel like a zombie most of the time. Food lacks taste, I see the sun but I can’t feel it touch my skin, comedy is void of humor, and the monotonous play of life in all its muted colors doesn’t catch my eye. At least that was the case until last week when I started working with my brother.

Living in Cambridge, I take the Red Line to South Station. Every morning for the past week, I’ve sat across from this long-legged woman with raven hair falling in unruly waves around her slender shoulders and down her back. Soft green eyes peek through sexy long lashes, casting a spell on me, and I’ve found myself locked in a trance watching her eat her cream filled doughnut with chocolate frosting. She makes a complete mess of it, and by the time she’s done every guy in the subway car is sporting a boner from watching her lick her full lips and suck the sticky sweetness off her long fingers one at a time like a fucking Dunkin’ Donuts porn movie.

So now the only thing I smell is a mixture of coffee and doughnuts. I can taste sweet cherry red lips that I will never kiss. It’s absurd I’m so fucking enthralled with her just the thought of the subway elicits a pathetic schmuck grin, and the vision of her lingers like a drunken haze even when I close my eyes. But most disturbing is the part of my body she awakens that I swore I’d never use again.

I’m so screwed.

Vivian

“Hey, bitches, it’s about time you showed up.” I give both Kai and Alex a big hug.

“Sorry, Flower. Sean and Kai were late.” Alex pins Kai with a gimlet-eyed stare before hugging me.

“I hate when you call her that,” Kai clenches his jaw.

“She calls us her bitches, yet you think calling her flower, like we both don’t know what’s tattooed on her back, is somehow what? Disrespectful?”

I link my pinkie to Kai’s then playfully nudge him in the shoulder. “I can think of worse things to be called.”

The scowl on Kai’s face refuses to fade. Alex thinks she knows everything about the events that led to my inked backside, but she doesn’t. Kai was there and as much as he would like to forget how that night forever changed my life, he can’t. I hope someday we can remember what we were and not what we’ve become.

“I hate that fucking tattoo,” he says.

“Well good thing it’s mine and not yours. Besides, Kate has an infinity symbol tattooed on her ankle.”

“Ah, Kai and Kate. It’s bad enough that you two look like Ken and Barbie, but seriously, hearing your names together is just too much.” Alex mock gags with her finger in her mouth.

“I don’t look like Ken.”

“Maybe not blond Ken, but you could pass for the pretty boy dark-haired doll, and Kate is definitely Barbie. I’ve never seen her in anything but heels. Are her feet permanently molded to that shape? Does she walk on her toes even when she’s barefoot?” Alex laughs.

“Suck me, Alex.”

“Afraid not, babe. Sean’s idea of a threesome is with me and Flower.”

“Timeout, you two!” I make a T with my hands. “I’m going home while you two help Maggie close up. Try to play nice.”

“I won’t be home tonight,” Alex says as I sling my bag over my shoulder.

“You never are. Tell Barbie … I mean Kate, I said hi.” I giggle, giving Kai a wink.

He scans the crowd for onlookers, then waves goodbye with his lone middle finger.

* * *

I stick in my earbuds and float away with Ed Sheeran as I take the Red Line back to Harvard Square. At South Station an all too familiar face steps through the doors. We make eye contact, sharing mirrored grins.

“You’re haunting me today,” I tug my earbuds out.

Oliver takes the seat next to me. “I could say the same about you.”

“Your obnoxious brother let you off early?”

Oliver laughs. “I didn’t ask. I pretty much decide when I’m done. What’s he going to do? Fire me?” His gaze dips, heating my skin. “So why are you going home so early?”

“Wasn’t really my day to work so I left my friends to clean up the mess and close up shop. Besides, I skipped lunch and I’m starving.”

“You think it’s because you skipped lunch? Or maybe it’s because you left half of your breakfast with me.” Oliver pulls at his chocolate-stained shirt.

“Funny guy, huh? I’m starting to feel less and less badly about this morning’s little incident.”

We both stand as the train stops at Harvard Station. “Come on.” He signals with his head as we step off. “I owe you a doughnut.”

I hesitate as commuters shuffle past us. “That’s a ridiculous comment, but I’m starving so yeah, I’ll let you buy me a doughnut.”

We navigate up the stairs and make our way out to Harvard Square. I hold up a finger and duck into the corner shop returning just a few minutes later. “Here, we’re even.” I toss him a Harvard T-shirt. “Now you can pretend you went to an Ivy League school.”

He shrugs off his shirt leaving me with a gaped-mouth stare as I look around to see if anyone else is watching. Drool-worthy, carved muscles hug his lean frame, and I can’t hide the blush that creeps up my neck as he slips on the new shirt before tossing the old one in the trash.

“What makes you think I didn’t go to Harvard?”

I shrug. “Well, probably the leather work boots. Why? Did you go to Harvard?”

Oliver cruises ahead toward Dunkin’ Donuts. “It’s possible.”

I can feel his smirk as I roll my eyes and jog to catch up.

“After you.” Smirking, Oliver holds open the door.

“Why thank you, Mr. Konrad.”

We order doughnuts and iced coffee then take a seat by the window.

“So, are you?”

“Am I what?” He arches a sly brow.

“A Harvard graduate.”

“Ah, piqued your curiosity, have I?”

“A little.” I remove the lid from my coffee.

He stares into his drink as if he’s waiting for his next words to float to the top. “Yes, I went to Harvard.”

“Cool,” I reply, sticking my finger into the cream-filled hole then licking it off.

With cow eyes, Oliver watches me suck the filling off my finger. He clears his throat. “Yes, I guess it is cool.”

Sticking my finger back in the hole to scoop out more filling, I laugh. “I don’t mean it dismissively, I’m just trying to not make a big deal of it. You’re obviously not using your degree, that is if you received one, so I don’t want to make you feel bad for doing something else in life.”

Sliding my tongue along my cream-covered finger, I wait for his response. He’s staring at my mouth again with his lips parted and he takes an exaggerated swallow when his eyes meet mine.

“Uh, that’s um, an interesting way to eat a doughnut.”

I lick my lips and grin. “I like to savor it. You know, the way some people lick the frosting from the center of an Oreo before eating the cookie part?”

He nods and clears his throat. “I graduated with a degree in Law.”

“Really? Did you ever practice?”

His forehead tenses into valleys of lines, almost looking pained. “For a short while, but … life became too demanding so I had to give it up.” He says each word with slow calculated precision.

“Do you think you’ll ever start practicing again?”

He keeps eye contact, but his gaze becomes glazed. “A few years ago I would have said no, but now I hope I find my way back.”

“Sounds like you’re lost.”

Oliver leans back and laces his fingers behind his head. “I think I am.”

I pull the straw from my cup and chew on the end giving thought to his comment. “Lost is a state of mind. You’ll find yourself when you acknowledge you’re exactly where you need to be in this moment.”

He laughs. “At Dunkin’ Donuts?”

“Nope, just alive.” I smile but it falters as I watch the color drain from Oliver’s face. “Did I say something wrong?”

The legs of his chair screech along the floor as he stands. “No, I just should get going.”

I grab my drink, shoving the straw back into it, and stand. “Okay, well, thanks for the late afternoon treat.”

“Yeah, sure. So I’ll see you around.” He doesn’t wait for me and before I can say anymore he’s out the door.

* * *

Now who’s scampering away with their tail between their legs? What the hell just happened? How can Chance be so transparent, as in, “I’d do you in the back of my pickup,” but Oliver such an enigma? I climb the front stairs to my building while fetching my keys.

“Hey, Oliver, how’s it going?”

I whip around and see Oliver waving toward an open window of a condo across the street, then he digs his keys out of one pocket while holding a paper grocery sack with the other. He unlocks the door next to the one with the open window, enters, and closes it without a single glance in my direction.

No way! Oliver is my neighbor?

I have nothing to offer this tall sexy man, yet I feel compelled to march across the street like the welcome wagon with a chip on her shoulder.