The room was mostly dark, what light there was came from two candles flickering on the night stand next to the bed. There was music playing in the background, The Best of Sublime. The room smelled strongly of marijuana, brownies and sex.
The sound of the toilet flushed, and a man entered the room. He was naked, and although the light was dim, you could clearly make out every muscle on his chest and thighs. He was covered in a light film of sweat, and moved around the room with the confidence of a victorious gladiator or someone who had just defeated a foe in Greco-Roman wrestling.
I was sitting on the bed, legs crossed, admiring the elegance of his physique, when he came to stand in front of me. On closer inspection, his body was dripping with sweat, and I could still smell the tangy ripeness of my sex on his cock, which was at half-mast and right at my eye level.
I leaned back on the bed, opening my arms and my legs and looked down at my own body. My breasts were large, full and round, and my nipples, almost as pink as Maraschino cherries, were as hard and smooth as pebbles. My stomach was flat, and I could see the mound were my pubic bone rose, lightly dusted in soft, brown curls.
He bent down, between my legs, and started kissing the inside of my thigh, first the right, then the left, slowly inching his way closer to my wet slit in the middle. He reached up and grabbed one breast with each hand, massaging them slowly, deeply, pinching the nipples until I moaned softly.
He then brought one hand down between my legs and bent over to kiss my clit. My whole body tensed in anticipation of feeling his warm mouth alternately blowing and sucking on my wet pussy. I looked down again, and caught his gaze, but instead of attaching his mouth to my clit like a barnacle to a cruise ship, he opened his mouth and started mimicking the sound of my Miremba ring tone, repeatedly...
"MOTHER FUCKER!" I awoke suddenly, covered in sweat, with an ache in my cunt that felt like I'd been hit in the uterus with a soccer ball. My phone was ringing. It was Sarah.
"You had better have a good fucking excuse for calling me this early in the morning," I muttered, half under my breath.
"Look who woke up on the wrong side of the fucking bed? What's gotten in to you, for fuck's sake?" She was clearly driving in her car, as she sounded far away, and I could hear traffic in the background.
"Nothing, forget it. What's up?" I tried to sound nonplussed, I didn't want Sarah to know I was still dreaming every single night about Hotty McScotty (having never divulged Andy's real name, this was how he was known in our little circle).
"You were dreaming about him again weren't you? You were, I can tell by your dissatisfied voice. What was it this time? Doggy style on Machu Picchu? Doing a sixty-nine on the International Space Station?"
"For your information he was about to go down on me in a candle lit room," I said, as demurely as possible.
"You are so fucked up, you know that right?" she snorted.
"What do you want Sarah?"
"Dave and I have to cancel our hike with you today, turns out he's giving Grand Rounds conference on Monday and he's on phone call today, and he's being a douche."
"Do you wanna come by yourself?" I asked as I rolled off the bed, stepping over Max, walking towards the bathroom.
"No, turns out I'm being a douche too, I think I just want to stay in today and be a good girlfriend. You know, do the dishes, cook some dinner, suck his cock."
"Ew. Sarah, gross, TMI."
"No its not, you dirty, little minx; you tell me all about your crazy sex dreams with Hotty McScotty. I can tell you about one little BJ with my boyfriend."
"First of all, my dreams aren't real, they're dreams. Second of all, I know Dave, I don't want to imagine you sucking his cock."
"You would if you knew what was good for you. Ha! But look, I gotta run, headed to the grocery store. Are you still going to head up to Millcreek later today?"
"Yes, I promised Max and he's been so good the last few days not waking me up in the morning, I feel like I owe it to him."
"OK, well, have fun. Be safe."
"Thanks, Sarah, you too."
"And we're still on for Tuesday night, right? Drinks with Dave and his buddy Sean?"
"Yes, Sarah, we're still on for Tuesday. I'll be there with bells on," I said, somewhat sarcastically.
"You had better be there or I will totally fuck your shit up."
"Goodbye Sarah."
"Bye Jen."
I looked down at Max, who looked up at me with the sweetest puppy dog eyes in the world. "You still wanna go for a walk sweet boy?" At the mention of a walk, Max jumped on the bed and started licking my face. "I thought so. Mama's gotta pee and then we can go."
Since Sarah and Dave were no longer going with me, I did not feel any need to shower or get cleaned up. I had come home from the gym late last night and slept in my sweaty work-out clothes. I failed to see the point of showering now, just so that I could accompany my dog on a hike in the mountains when I was only going to get even sweatier. I peed, brushed my teeth and grabbed a protein bar from the cupboard, and filled up my large Nalgene with cold water from the fridge. I grabbed Max's harness, and we were out the door in under ten minutes flat, heading up toward Millcreek canyon.
∞∞∞
The geography of Salt Lake is pretty incredible. It sits in a valley created by the Wasatch mountains on the East side of the city, and the Oquirrh mountains on the far West side. The Wasatch front, as it is known, were carved out by glaciers, and so their peaks and valleys have an almost "stuck-on" appearance to the horizon. The proximity of the mountains, and all of the outdoor recreation that implies, to Salt Lake City, a metropolitan area of about 1.1 million people, is virtually unparalleled in the United States.
There were a lot of things that made Salt Lake a nice place to live, but these mountains made it the type of place that I could never leave. If for no other reason, because Max would positively disown me.
Max and I had really bonded on our first hike together up Millcreek canyon. He had been a rescue dog, and we had gone on long walks around my neighborhood after I'd first got him, but I wasn't sure how well he would do in the wilderness of the canyon, so I was cautious about letting him off leash. After we'd been together for a few months though, I decided it was time to see if he could handle it, and I was glad I did. He really loved it.
He would run up the trail ahead of me, then run back down toward me, zoom behind my legs, and run up the trail again. If I walked three miles, then he probably ran five, going back and forth as much as he did. At the end of the hike, he would even sit patiently and wait for me to put his harness back on. He was such a good dog, the best really, and I really owed him this hike.
We parked the Subi in our usual spot on the side of the road, west of the Desolation Trail trailhead, and I got out of the car. There were only a few cars up in the canyon this early in the morning, so we crossed the road quickly, and I tucked his harness into the little backpack I was wearing, which had sunscreen, my hat, some water and a collapsible bowl for Max.
He started up on the trail ahead of me investigating some interesting smells. I called out for him to wait up, and he sauntered back down to me.
The air was crisp, clean and fresh, and smelled like rain, and the trail was only slightly muddy. It had rained the night before last, a bit unusual for August, but it helped with the heat which could be oppressive this time of year in Salt Lake City. We stopped every now and then for a few hikers to pass us coming down the mountain, and once or twice for some fast hikers going up. Max mostly jogged ahead but would come running back to me.
When we arrived at our standard turn-around point, I stopped again to drink some water, and to pour some into his bowl. When I called out his name he barked, but did not coming running back to me. I called his name again, and again he barked, twice this time, but did not return. I dumped the water out of his bowl, and walked up ahead on the trail which curved sharply, calling out his name as I walked.
When I turned the corner, I saw Max running and jumping between two tall hikers coming down the mountain. I moved closer to the group to pull Max out of the way, and nearly fell off the side of the trail and down the face of the mountain when I saw who it was.
Andrew Fucking Robertson.
Hotty McScotty in the flesh. And boy was he ever. He wore his hair pulled back, under a cap, and had on a sleeveless tank top and tan colored hiking shorts. He had a Camelbak on his back and was wearing well worn-in hiking boots on his feet. Our eyes met, and at that moment my shoe slipped on a rock, and I stumbled forward into him, my face landing almost directly into his crotch. If I had been a sharp shooter I could not have hit a bulls eye with greater accuracy.
He stumbled back and pulled me to my feet, Max jumping up and down between us, barking like mad.
"Max, shut it. Get over here. I am so sorry, I didn't mean to fall on you like that."
"That's quite alright Dr. Parks, I didn't think that you placed that rock directly in your path for that purpose," he said softly, still holding on to my arms as I righted myself.
"You remembered my name?" I asked incredulously.
"I make a point of remembering the names of doctors who have stitched my genitals. Especially the pretty ones." He smiled widely, looking down at me with those grey-blue eyes with ferocious intensity.
I bit my bottom lip, smiled, blushed and looked away simultaneously upon hearing this. "So, what are you doing here?" I asked, looking at the ground at his feet. He had let go of me at this point and we were standing about a foot from each other, blocking the trail in either direction.
"You'll never believe it, but we're out on a hike. We had wanted to go yesterday but didn't because of the rain." As he said this, his companion came over to join us and smiled at me. It was Wilson Little, hand kissing Scotsman extraordinaire.
"Well if it isn't the fair and lovely Dr. Parks," Wilson said, reaching out to grab my hand and kiss it once more.
"Nice to see you again, Wilson, was it? Please call me Jen." I smiled as I pulled my hand from his grasp. "You guys must be headed down, I don't think you passed us on the way up." I looked down the trail to confirm that they had not been behind me the whole time.
"Indeed, we're headed back down now, we've got a flight to catch in a few hours." Wilson said with his thick, lovely accent.
"A flight? Didn't you just arrive Andy, I mean Mr. Robertson."
"Andy, please. And yes, Wilson here is going back home to Edinburgh and I've got business out of town for the next few weeks. Just so happens that we're both leaving in a few hours," Andy said, looking down into my eyes, giving me his best, most penetrating gaze. He was casually licking his bottom lip and it drew my attention, so much so that I almost did not hear when Wilson started talking.
"And what about you Jen, are you headed up or down?" Wilson smiled at me, nodding his head down the trail.
"Actually, we're heading down, hit our half way point already. Mind if we join you?" I said, trying desperately to sound as casual as possible.
"Not at all, you can tell us all about the great trails that we've been missing." Wilson said enthusiastically.
I looked up at Andy to see if it bothered him that I was joining them, but he just kept staring at me. Finally, he said with a smile and a little wave of his hand, "after you Jennifer." His voice was low, almost throaty, and he leaned in slightly as he said it, and my entire skin broke out in goosebumps. I think I might have squeaked faintly as he ushered me forward because when I turned around, he was smirking, and I thought I could hear a low laugh in his chest.
Wilson took my arm, threaded it through his, and started asking me questions about my job, about Salt Lake, about Max. I looked back over my left shoulder, Andy was close behind with Max at his left heel, and he was still staring at me like I was a large, medium rare steak. I turned back to Wilson in time to hear him ask a question, but in my haze, I had not understood him at all.
"What was that? Sorry Wilson, I must've zoned out there for a minute. What did you say?"
"Only wondering how long you've been here in beautiful Salt Lake City," he asked again.
"Going on two years, but I visited a lot when I was a kid because my grandmother still lives here."
Andy spoke up at this, "you have family here then?"
"Yes, my Mom's mom. She is 91 years old, but I swear she could run laps around me. I don't see her as much as I should, but we're very close."
Andy said nothing, nodding slightly.
"And you are still in training, no? How much longer do you have?" Wilson's questions, although somewhat personal, were clearly well intentioned, and did not feel at all intrusive. His demeanor was so casually friendly that I had no qualms in answering him truthfully.
"Yes, I am a 3rd year family medicine resident, and I will graduate next year in June. I don't know what I'm going to do next year. I can't really see beyond this month, actually. I've started looking for jobs here, and in Portland and Seattle, nothing serious, mind, just casual internet searches. It's kind of overwhelming though; feels like I'm making a serious decision that will affect me for the rest of my life and I don't have much criteria to base it on."
"What makes you want to leave Salt Lake? Or to stay, rather?" The tone of Wilson's question was so honest and without guile, I felt compelled to answer honestly.
"Well, I guess I'd thought about leaving because it can be difficult to meet people in Salt Lake. I'm not religious, and as I'm sure you know, there are a lot of Mormons here, which kind of thins the herd a bit. I guess I figured if I moved to Portland or Seattle it would be easier to meet someone who was more my type." I blushed slightly at this admission, but what I said was true, at least I thought it was.
"As to why I would stay, well, you're sort of looking at it. This, these mountains, easy access to hiking and the outdoors," I said, lifting my hands up and pointing at our beautiful surroundings. "This sort of access, so close to town is sort of unparalleled here in the States. Being outside is important to me, important to Max. I would be reticent to give this up, even if it does mean dying alone."
Wilson smiled, "Oh I doubt very much that you shall die alone Jen. In fact, I am astonished that you don't have blokes kicking down your door. Wouldn't you agree, Andy?"
"Most definitely. However, you forget Wilson that not all men are attracted to intelligent and beautiful women."
I turned back to Andy as he said this, and our eyes locked on each other. He smiled and I bit my bottom lip, which made me smile too.
"Well, thank you for the compliment, gentlemen. And you're right, so far, I've been quite unlucky in love. Except, of course, for Max here." I looked behind me to see Max, who was still walking at Andy's heels. "Evidently, his allegiance is easily shifted; I've never seen him do that before," I said, somewhat amazed. "Did you say something to Max to make him heel like that?"
"No, but I grew up with three big dogs at home, so I guess I'm just used to it," Andy said, patting Max gently behind his ears. Max looked at Andy with such profound admiration, it bordered on the obscene.
"Are you sure you're not keeping sausage in your pocket or something?" Without realizing it, I noticed that I was staring at Andy's crotch again, and he followed my gaze to his groin and shifted uncomfortably, putting his hand in his front, left pocket.
"Uh, no, no sausage, just a phone." Andy pulled out the phone to prove it to me, but as I moved my head forward, I could see that he was making an adjustment at the front of his pants without trying to be obvious about it.
My perusal of the area in question, granted brief as it was, suggested the contrary: there was definitely a sausage in there, or at least a summer zucchini...
Soon after, the sounds of cars on the road became audible. We were already nearing the trail head. Panic started to grip me as I realized that our walk would soon come to an end, and I would likely never see Andrew Hotty McScotty Robertson again.
"So Andy, where are you going on your trip?" I asked, trying to remain casual, but also to keep the conversation going.
"Several places actually. San Francisco, Portland, Seattle and Vancouver. Should be gone for about three weeks."
"That sounds pretty awesome. Are you traveling for business or pleasure?" I had meant this as a serious question, but my tone of voice had a very 1-900-SEX MEUP ring to it, which was unintended.
"Business, unfortunately. But I'll visit my older sister in San Francisco for a few days, which will be nice." His voice was low and laced with honey.
"Do you mind if I ask what you do for a living? I imagine that if I were a more thorough physician I would know by now. But on second thought, maybe not, I can't imagine there would be many jobs in which injury to the genitalia is an occupational hazard. Unless you're a porn star." I chuckled at my own joke and then immediately stopped laughing. Fuck, what if he WAS a porn star?
"As it happens, I am not a porn star. Considered it at one point mind, but never liked the idea of strangers fondling my privates."
"Your recent, uh, ailments, must have been quite upsetting then, for I'm a stranger and I've already seen and fondled them twice." I paused, stopped walking and he nearly ran into me. I clapped my hand to my mouth. "I'm so sorry, I can't believe I just said that. That was unforgivably crass. Please ignore me completely, I am evidently having verbal diarrhea. No doubt brought on by lack of oxygen due to the altitude."
"No worries. But you're quite right, I was very nervous the first time. The second time wasn't so bad, but you weren't a stranger then, were you?" He smiled generously, showing his teeth and winked at me. This made me smile too, but I hadn't started walking again yet. He put his hand at the small of my back, and I jumped forward, like a jolt of electricity had shot down my spinal column.
"To answer your earlier question though, I am an architect specializing in environmentally friendly remodels and new construction. I have several projects along the West Coast, so I'm flying out to tie up loose ends before starting a new project here in Salt Lake."
"That sounds fascinating. And these projects you're visiting, did you actually design them yourself?"
"Parts of them."
"That must be so amazing, to watch something that you've only seen in your mind's eye take shape with concrete, glass and steel before your very eyes."
"Not unlike seeing an ailing patient become well again."
"Ah, you see, but that's where you're wrong. The more doctoring I do, the more I realize that patients do all of the hard work, I just steer them in the right direction, and dispense heartburn medication from time to time."
"I think you underestimate your talents entirely. Take that little girl who was in the room next to me, you calmed her down by singing to her. Not all doctors would do that."
"Oh God, I had forgotten that you heard that."
"I was also very grateful when you sang for me, I didn't have the balls to ask you."
Wilson guffawed loudly at his pun, and both Andy and I chuckled a bit.
"I do think it was my first time singing to a man's genitals."
"Well, both me and my balls appreciated it. Was it that obvious how scared I was?"
"No more than I would have anticipated. Even the toughest guys turn into crybabies when their balls are injured."
"Truer words were never spoken," said Wilson at my side.
"Well, you were very gentle with my pride, and with my balls, and I'm not sure I thanked you for either."
I looked back at Andy and he had a very sincere expression on his face. "It would be wrong to say that it was my pleasure, so I'll just say you're welcome."
A few minutes later we arrived at the trail head. Max looked up at Andy and I looked down at Max. I pulled the backpack off my chest, and saw that both Andy and Wilson's eyes were popping out of their heads, belatedly realizing that my tank top had become dislodged and my mesh sports bra was visible. I pulled my tank back in place, blushed awkwardly, and grabbed Max's harness from the backpack, bending over to slip it onto him. When I looked up, Andy had a small smile on his face.
"Well Andy, Wilson, it was a pleasure running into you like this. I hope you both have a pleasant journey and come back safely." I leaned forward to shake Wilson's hand, who smiled graciously and shook my hand warmly.
When I turned towards Andy, he was staring at me again, his eyes were warm but his gaze, still so penetrating, made me shiver. He was slowly licking his bottom lip again, giving me the distinct impression that my body was covered in bacon or something. My knees practically went weak when I placed my hand in his.
"Goodbye Andy Robertson. I am so glad you appeared to have recovered," I said honestly.
"Goodbye Jennifer Parks. And I am glad to have seen you again," he said, piercing me with his gray-blue eyes.
As I walked away, I realized that I had not taken Zack's advice: I was clinging to the edge of the bridge, not daring to jump, not daring to cross, not daring to do anything at all.
I crossed the street, pulled my car keys out of my bag, and opened the back hatchback to let Max into the trunk. I came around to the front of the car, and banged my head against the window of the driver's seat twice before I realized that someone had crossed the street with me. I watched the reflection in the window and even though I could see him approaching, I still flinched when Andy walked up behind me and touched my left shoulder. I turned around with a start.
"You don't happen to have any jumper cables, do you?" His gaze had softened but was still directed at me fully, which I was beginning to find a little unnerving.
"You won't believe this, but they are sitting in my garage next to my grocery bags. Why? What's up?" I looked past Andy, across the street and could see Wilson waving at me. "Is your battery dead?"
"Appears to be. And I'm afraid we're in a bit of a hurry to get down the mountain to catch our planes. My cell phone isn't working, I was wondering if I might borrow yours to call a tow truck?" His voice was low and he looked slightly distracted. Just then, a car drove down the mountain, passing very close to where we were standing on the side of the road. Without warning, he put his hands on my hips and pushed me into my car door, protecting my body with his own. He was impossibly close, and his aroma was an intoxicating mixture of deodorant, new sweat and pine trees. I couldn't help myself, I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply. When I opened them again he was looking down at me, still with one hand on my waist, the other up against the car.
"Sure you can borrow my phone, but it won't do you any good, you won't get any reception up here." I motioned to my bag, and Andy took his hand off my hip and moved away slightly. As I pulled the phone from my backpack, I looked up to see Wilson crossing the street. "I heard your truck won't start. Can I give you a lift somewhere?"
"Are you certain it wouldn't be too much of an imposition?" Andy had kept his arm on my car but had opened his frame to let Wilson join in our little tête-a-tête.
"As handsome as you both are, no car is likely to stop for you, and you'll never make it to the bottom of the canyon on foot in time to call a cab to catch your plane. It would truly be my pleasure, I promise you, Max and I have no other plans today."
"It is settled then. Jen, you are a doll." Wilson practically skipped back across the road to go pick up his backpack, which he had left near the bed of the truck.
"Jen, are you sure you don't mind? You don't have to do this." Andy turned towards me and was unnecessarily close.
I thought I would pee my pants if he moved any closer. "Yes, Andy, I do. Besides, this way you'll owe me, and it's always good to be owed favors, is it not?"
"Most certainly. But you have to promise to let me pay you back somehow. I don't like to have debts hanging over me." He grinned mischievously as he said this.
It was my turn to lick my lips, "I'm sure I can think of something that you have that I want." It was his turn to blush this time. "Do you need anything from your truck?"
"I have what I need right here, thank you." He tapped his hand on his phone/sausage/zucchini in his front left pocket.
"Well then, shall we? Your chariot awaits gentlemen."
Andy reached forward to open the door for me, while Wilson opened the rear driver-side door and crawled into the back, and was immediately attacked with kisses from Max. Andy waited until I was seated before shutting my door, and walked around to the other side of the car. It looked like he took a deep breath before opening his door, and then quickly climbed in, shut his door and put on his seat belt.
"I assume we need to stop someplace and pick up your luggage?" I asked as I started the car.
"Would you mind taking us to my apartment?"
"Lead the way."
And with that, we headed down the mountain towards Andy's place.
The day was suddenly, inexplicably looking up.
∞∞∞
I turned on my car stereo to keep any awkward silence from deafening all of us. Davina Porter's sultry voice came on and I realized that my iPod shuffle was still set to Book Eight of the Outlander series. I grabbed the shuffle, pulled out the cord and tossed it to Andy.
"Here, pick something."
Andy picked up the shuffle that I'd tossed in his lap and laughed when he saw the title of what had recently been playing.
"Wilson," Andy said wryly, "You'll never guess what our fair Dr. Parks is listening to?"
"Hmm. Would that be Outlander then?" Wilson nodded appreciatively and they both laughed.
"What's so funny? You guys don't like Outlander?" I asked, looking at Wilson in the rearview mirror and at Andy beside me.
"It's not that we don't like it, it's just, shall we say, amusing how many American women ask us to say Sassenach when they find out we're from Scotland," Wilson said playfully. He had said "Sassenach" in a way that made my vagina clamp up like a nut cracker. I swallowed hard.
"R..really? I stammered. They... I mean we... I mean, women, that is, want you to say that word in particular?" I looked over at Andy and the eye missiles were back and were headed straight for me.
"Och aye, they do, the lassies love it when I say 'Sassenach,'" Andy said, deepening his voice into an irresistible Scottish burr. I almost fainted when he spoke, and the car listed violently to the right. Andy smiled, looked at me, and looked at the road again.
I looked at Wilson in the rearview, he seemed not to be paying much attention any more.
With the iPod unplugged, I switched on the radio, skipped around to find a station which was not currently running an ad or news. It took me a minute to recognize the song, it was Kiss by Prince, I looked over at Andy, "Is this OK? You can change it if you like."
"Wouldn't dream of it. I love Prince." Eye missiles had reengaged and were targeting me like a cold-war era submarine.
"You love Prince? Why do I find that hard to believe?" I was incredulous. No man, particularly one as beautiful as he was, liked dogs and hiking and PRINCE!
"Parade is not his best album, of course, I prefer his earlier works. 1999 is probably my favorite."
"What else do you like? Music-wise, I mean." If he said that he listened to hip hop I was going to take my panties off and straddle him in the middle of the road.
"I listen to a little bit of everything, really. Classic rock, gospel, drum n'base, pop, folk, hip hop, jazz. I'd like to think of my tastes as being quite eclectic. What about you, what do you like?
"I'm an equal opportunity employer as well. I dance mostly to salsa, pop and hip hop though," I added thoughtfully.
"I thought you might be a dancer." He smiled wryly.
"Why would you have thought that?" I was genuinely curious. I had taken care of dancers before and I knew for a fact that I was much meatier than they were.
"I dated a dancer once, and you've got a similar grace to your movements."
"I think that is the nicest thing anyone has ever said about me. You know, I wanted to be a ballerina when I was young, but I, uh... sprouted early and quickly, and my dancing days were numbered. I only started doing it again a few years ago."
"Do you like to go out dancing?" he asked, rubbing his hand along his chin and scratching at his stubble.
"You know, it's funny, but no, not really. When I go to clubs it attracts the kind of attention that I'm not interested in. When I dance, I want to totally let loose and be freaky, and most guys interpret that to mean that I want to have sex or something, and I don't. Dancing for me is about expression and movement and release and besides, most guys can't dance, they just grind, which I find completely unappealing. I can't believe I'm telling you this. But the truth is, when I dance, men only notice my breasts, my body, my hips, and they often make comments and catcalls that I find really offensive because they're completely missing out on who I am as a person. So now I just go to gay clubs with my friend Zack. He's my dance instructor and it's amazing because I am surrounded by gorgeous guys, many of whom totally know how to move, and none of them are interested in me sexually. It is absolutely liberating." I looked over at him and he appeared contemplative, as if he were actually thinking about what I said. "Sorry, that shit was like, really, real. I don't know where that come from."
At this point, we had approached the bottom of the canyon and were coming up on the toll booth; I waved at the attendant and showed him my annual Millcreek pass. He waved me through.
"You come here often," Andy said this as a statement, not a question.
"Try to. Probably don't come as often as we should, huh, Max?" I looked at the rearview and, as if on cue, Max barked in the back and wagged his tail.
"So where's your apartment, Andy?" I said, without looking at him.
"Citycreek apartments," he said, "Do you know where that is?"
"Downtown, right?" he nodded. I turned right and then left to get on the 215 belt route.
"I feel like I'm doing all the talking, tell me something about yourself." I looked over at Andy to see that he was still staring at me.
"What do you want to know?" he asked with a smile
"What's your favorite book?" I inquired.
"Well now that's a tough one. On paper, I would say my favorite book is Of mice and men but really it's probably At Home by Bill Bryson."
"You're fucking kidding me? I LOVE Bill Bryson. Have you read any of his other stuff?" I was amazed, how was it possible that we liked the same type of books too?
"All of it. I also love In a sunburned country, about his travels in Australia."
"Me too. His travel books are great but A short history of nearly everything totally changed my life. I haven't read At Home yet though, is it good?" I said, enthusiastically.
"I think it's incredible. It's all about houses and the rooms in houses and how they got to be that way. As an architect I found it enthralling. What about you, what's your favorite book?"
"Well, like you, on paper I would say it's Animal Dreams by Barbara Kingsolver, but in reality it's probably The Princess Bride."
He laughed out loud at this. "The Princess Bride, really?"
"Absolutely. It has everything a book should have, adventure, romance, humor and lessons about life." I said seriously.
"Lessons about life, you mean like 'true love?'" He was laughing when he said this, but at one look at my expression, he stopped.
"I take it you've only ever seen the movie and not read the book?" I asked knowingly.
"You've got me there."
"Well, there's this part in the book, that isn't in the movies, and it's completely brilliant. You know how in the beginning the grandfather is reading to his grandson?"
He nodded.
"Well, that's a bit of a misrepresentation. The author, William Goldman, sort of created a story within a story. He writes as though The Princess Bride was actually written by someone else named F. Morgenstern and that he is just abridging it to make it more palatable to a wider audience. He keeps interjecting throughout the book with narratives about his own life, which are also completely made up, apparently, but one of the anecdotes that he tells is just so perfect, so true, it has always stuck with me."
"What was it?" He was still staring at me, but this time with keen interest.
"I'm paraphrasing here, but basically he writes that one day as a kid, he, William Goldman that is, was playing badminton or tennis or something with a friend, and his friend totally beat him, it was a gutting, a shut out, and the friend says to him, 'don't worry about it, you'll beat me next time.' And his friend's mom, who was, like, a psychologist or something, overhears them talking and she says to William, 'you know that's not necessarily true. You might not beat him. Life isn't fair and every time someone tells you that they're lying.' And William, the author, goes on about this epiphany that he had when she told him that, like suddenly he realized the wool had been pulled over his eyes, and he was now seeing the world for what it really was. I guess that has really stuck with me, because as a doctor, I see that all the time, you know? I have proof every single day that life isn't fair. Bad things happen to good people, with no rhyme or reason, and I guess it always reminds me of the first time someone told me that, which was in The Princess Bride."
"That is incredibly deep, I had no idea," he said, his gaze now staring out the front windshield.
"Thanks. Don't worry, I'm not always this profound. I read a lot of erotica too." Wilson coughed in the back, and nearly choked on the water he was drinking. "I can't believe I just said that out loud, verbal diarrhea again, please ignore me."
"It seems you are more than just one thing, Jennifer Parks. Many layers, like an onion." Andy's gaze had returned to me with renewed intensity.
"More like an artichoke, I think. Prickly exterior but, at heart I'm a total softy. And delicious when buttered." I wiggled my eyebrows provocatively and we both laughed.
"Is this your place here?"
"Yup, just up here on the right."
As we pulled up to his apartment, I looked down at my watch: 11:30. "So what time do your flights leave?"
"Wilson's isn't until three, but I'm leaving at 1:30."
"That doesn't leave much time. I assume you had not intended on traveling as you are, were you planning on showering?"
"Would you mind terribly if we both just took a quick shower? I'd hate to subject the other passengers to my stench."
"I'm not sure that they would mind, at least not the ladies. But I take your meaning. Do you want me to wait down here?" I gripped the steering wheel tightly, not wanting him to see how badly I wanted to come up.
"It might be more than just a minute, why don't you come up?" He was already getting out of the car.
I hopped out and grabbed Max from the back, and we all went upstairs. Andy's apartment was on the top floor, the 4th, on the corner facing the street. He put the key in the lock, opened the door, and then gestured for me to walk through. It was sparsely furnished and had little ornamentation on the walls.
I walked down a small hallway, with a small mirror on one side, and a mountain bike on the other. I passed the bathroom, and the small kitchen on the right, and was standing in the living room. There was a small two-seater couch, one bedside table and a television. Two book cases were positioned on either side of a small patio. Where the rest of the apartment looked bland and hardly lived in, the two bookcases overflowed with books and photographs of Andy and various people, mostly women, some men, from all over the world.
As we stepped fully into the unit, Andy stood behind me, touching me at the small of my back, sending electricity down my spinal column for a second time.
"Can I offer you anything to drink," he said quietly from behind my right ear. I turned, and our bodies were impossibly close. As before, I could smell the sweat on him from his earlier exertions in the day, it was intoxicating. Speech was not possible, so I only shook my head. He moved past me, and into the bedroom. Wilson had already moved into the bathroom, and I could hear the water running.
"Do you mind if I let Max walk around, he's house broken," I called out to Andy.
"Be my guest," Andy called back.
I kept the harness and the leash in place, but tucked the leash under his harness so it wouldn't catch on anything, and let Max roam as he wanted. He went straight into Andy's bedroom.
"Sorry," I yelled out, "Max is seeking you out."
Andy didn't reply to me, but upon seeing Max, I could tell that he greeted him warmly with some pats.
I walked over to the bookcase to examine the impressive collection of books and photographs. All of the books were read, some clearly had been read repeatedly, their edges worn and curled. The book shelf on the left had titles that ranged from Keats and Longfellow to The Iliad. There was an occasional John Le Carré novel and the entire collection of Sherlock Holmes, a smattering of poetry, some philosophy and some non-fiction. The bookshelf on the right was essentially nothing but books on architecture and design.
The photographs, which included selfies of Andy alone or with another person, showed that he had traveled widely. There was Andy and a pretty blonde at the Great Wall, Andy and a petite red head in Rome at the Trevi fountain. Andy and a bunch of guys on a mountain somewhere. Andy on a longboard in Hawaii looking statuesquely God-like. There were several with a younger man, clearly a relation of his, most likely his brother, and they were embracing warmly with beers in their hands.
Although women featured in many of his photographs, no woman appeared in the same photograph twice except for two: one was quite a bit older than Andy, but still youthful and exuberant looking and the other was only slightly older and had his coloring and his eyes. The younger woman, presumably his sister, featured in two photographs of them in the States: the first was taken selfie-style on a boat in front of the Statue of Liberty and the other, taken by a third party, in San Francisco with the Golden Gate Bridge in the back ground. In both pictures, he had his arm around her and the two were beaming at the camera.
The photos of the other woman were older, Andy appeared much younger, and seemed to be family photos taken on a camping trip with the two of them seated on chairs in front of a small fire with the last bit of daylight shining on them. The woman was laughing hard, staring at Andy with such love in her eyes.
The second photo was of Andy in a high school graduation cap and gown, the woman was a head shorter than Andy, but she looked up at him with a fierce gaze, similar to the one that Andy had been directing at me all afternoon. On her, however, the gaze was clearly full of love; the resemblance was unmistakable, this was Andy's mother.
I heard a noise behind me and saw the two men, Wilson in a bath towel wrapped around his waist and Andy in his hiking clothes. They were conversing quietly just in front of the kitchen, I tried not to listen and instead sat quietly on the couch.
"I'll just take a quick shower and we can head out, if that's alright with you." Andy had moved into the living room and was staring down at me.
"Yeah, sure, whatever." I said, throwing up my hands to indicate that anything he wanted to do with, or to, me was fine by me. He walked off toward the shower and Wilson disappeared into the bedroom. Max trotted out then and came to sit by me on the couch. I looked at my watch, it was already 11:50, we were going to be cutting it close. With Wilson in the bedroom changing and Andy in the shower, I walked into the kitchen to pour myself a glass of water. I opened his fridge and smiled. It was almost as barren as mine. Two bottles of EPIC beer, a Styrofoam container presumably holding leftovers, a carton of eggs, some milk and a few apples in the crisper drawer. I shut the fridge and opened cupboards until I found the one with glasses, picked up a small tumbler and poured myself some cold water from the tap.
I hadn't realized how dehydrated I was, the water tasted divine. I rinsed the glass carefully in the sink and looked around for a hand towel to dry it off. Seeing none, I laid the glass by the side of the sink upside down to let the water drain out. As I did so, the water in the bathroom turned off. I looked up, willing myself to have x-ray vision through the wall between the bathroom and the shower.
On the other side of that wall Andy was naked and alone. And naked. I took several deep breaths in front of the sink and leaned forward to stretch out my back which had become somewhat stiff after the hiking and the driving.
I was just coming up from my cat-like stretch when Andy materialized quietly at my right. He was dripping wet, wearing a small towel around his waist. His perfect body was dusted with the occasional freckle. His pecs, almost a b cup, were chiseled and his tiny nipples were as hard as diamonds. It was so strange to see him this way, covering up his groin, the one part of his body that I knew well.
We stood facing each other without speaking for what seemed like a full minute. His eyes boring holes into me, I felt certain that if I did not move away from him I would do something rash like grab the towel out of his hands and throw myself on him. He walked past me quietly, without saying a word, and went into his bedroom. Wilson emerged from the bedroom and came into the kitchen, carrying a small carry-on suitcase behind him.
Shortly thereafter, Andy emerged from the bedroom wearing black slacks, a soft camel colored t-shirt and a matching black suit jacket. He was stunning. He looked like an advertisement for Banana Republic. His hair was combed back and on his right shoulder he carried a small duffel with a thick garment bag in his left hand.
"Shall we?" his voice was rich and deep and full of honey, and if I had not known any better I would have thought that he was inviting me to dance. I looked up into his face and saw that the penetrating gaze was gone, in its place was a neutral expression of indescribable beauty. Had not the kitchen counter been at my back, I likely would have collapsed due to weakness in the knees.
"Right. Sure. Uh, Max, come on boy."
Max came running out of the bedroom and sat directly in front of Andy who reached out and patted Max on the head. "Good dog" he said kindly.
With all of their luggage in tow we headed down to the car. I unlocked the trunk and the men placed their luggage to one side, allowing Max to hop in on the other side. Once again, Andy walked forward pushing me toward the driver's side with his hand at the small of my back. He then opened the door for me, waiting until I was completely situated before shutting it and coming around the side to join me in the front passenger seat.
I started the car, pulled it into drive and made my way to the freeway. We were at the airport departure's terminal within 15 minutes. Andy had said on the drive over that they were both taking Delta, so I pulled into terminal 2 without further questions. As I stopped the car, switching it into park, Andy said, "Jennifer, I cannot thank you again for your help today in getting us off the mountain and to the airport. I am truly in your debt." His words were gently spoken and kindly meant, and I smiled at him.
"It was nothing. I'm sure you would have done the same. Here, let me help you with your bags." I hopped out of my seat and made my way to the trunk. Andy had beaten me to it and our hands touched the latch at the same time. Neither of us moved. Eventually, he pushed the button, opening the back, and I reached instinctively for Max's leash, but with one look from Andy, Max sat in the back and made no movement to jump out of the car.
"How do you do that? He never does that." I inquired, astounded at my dog's perfect obedience
"Must be my animal magnetism" he replied, smiling.
"Well Andy, you've got that in spades. I imagine there isn't an animal on earth who wouldn't do your bidding." I bit my bottom lip and flushed slightly, embarrassed at my admission.
A sudden thought struck me and I looked up into his beautiful face, his expression amused but soft, "what are you going to do about your truck up in the canyon?"
"I thought about that as we were driving down. Nothing I suppose. I clearly don't have the time to do anything about it now." He sighed, pulling the duffel bag onto his shoulder.
"I could take care of it for you. If you wanted?" I bit the inside of my lip, wondering if he would think this too forward of me.
"I couldn't possibly ask that of you, it is such an inconvenience." His tone was warm, but also devious somehow.
"It's no trouble. My friend Zack and I could go get it later today, and park it here on the street for you."
"Really, you wouldn't mind? It's not too much trouble?" His tone was getting warmer and warmer the closer we were to saying our goodbyes.
"Really, I'd be happy to help. In fact, given what I put you through at our first two encounters, I probably owe you." We both smiled slightly at that.
"It would be I who owe you." He looked up at me again, grey-blue eyes sparkling.
"But you don't like owing people." I said quickly, remembering what he had said earlier about obligations.
"Some debts are more onerous than others. I don't think I will mind this one too much." His eyes flashed intense once more at me, as if he were absorbing some mana glow emanating from within me.
"Then I shall collect on it once you return." I met his eyes, and tried to gaze upon him as fiercely as he did upon me. "I'll need the keys."
He fished into his pocket and pulled out his keychain. It had a small plastic cat woman on one end and a car key and a house key on the other. He separated the house key from the other two and handed me the cat woman key chain with the truck key still attached.
"What should I do with the key after I drop it off?" I asked
"There's a lock box in the cab, just drop it in there. I've got the spare upstairs in my apartment. Would you mind texting me after you've dropped it off?" He pulled out his phone and made ready to dial.
I gave him my number and a thrill passed through my body that a small, albeit numeric, part of me was somehow now a part of him.
"I'll text you when it's done, or I'll call if there is trouble." I said
"I really appreciate this Jen. Truly."
"You are most welcome Andy."
I turned to Wilson, who had been standing a few feet off on the curb. "Goodbye Wilson, goodbye Andy, safe travels."
"Goodbye Jen." They said simultaneously. "Thanks for the lift" Wilson shouted over his shoulder.
We did not touch or hug, but it felt like our eyes were lingering on each other for a moment. He adjusted the bags he carried, turned and crossed the street and entered the terminal.
And just like that, he was gone.
∞∞∞
Zack had agreed to accompany me back up the mountain to retrieve Andy's truck only after I promised to let him come back to my place to watch some TV. He had a small television in his apartment, but no cable, so he usually came over once a week to catch up on his favorite shows.
He suffered through Outlander, which was now in its third season (my favorite) on Starz but enjoyed Black Sails, Game of Thrones and Empire. We both loved So you think you can dance and would occasionally watch Dancing with the Stars, both of which were out of season at the moment.
Upon arriving at Andy's truck, we had successfully jumped it using my travel battery, and let it idle for a minute before Zack got in and drove it down to Andy's apartment, with me following behind. He parked it out in front, depositing the key in the locked glove box as Andy had instructed and walked back over to where I had been waiting.
"He is going to owe you so big for this."
"Hardly, Zack. Although I will say that he seemed, I don't know, flirty and engaging when I saw him up the canyon. I think he was quieter last time I saw him in the hospital" I said.
"You're surprised that he wasn't more talkative while you were stitching his nut sack?" Zack guffawed.
"No, you're right, I mean, that totally makes sense that he was, well, preoccupied when we met at the hospital. Today I felt like he just kept staring at me. Don't get me wrong, it was totally hot, but in a weird way kind of unnerving, like I was the last Popsicle in a desert."
"Were you wearing this hot little number?" He said, pointing at my outfit. I had gone on the hike wearing gym clothes from the day previous and had not thought about what I must've looked like - or smelled like - until this moment.
"Holy fuck shit. I look like a hot fucking mess! He must think I am a total degenerate." I could not believe it had not dawned on me until now that I must've looked ridiculous.
"Kitten, have you looked in the mirror today? You look fucking hot, with those enormous tatas and your cute little booty pants. I'm sure he was staring alright, I'll bet he looked uncomfortable because he was trying to hide his giant erection."
"I don't think he had an erection, although I did make a joke about him keeping a sausage in his pocket and he kind of made a little 'frontal adjustment.' When he had one the first time at the hospital it was visible from a low earth orbit." We both laughed.
"Should I text him to let him know the truck is taken care of? He's probably still in the air, but he'll get the message when he lands."
"Sure. Do you want to send him a picture of your cleavage too? That will at least get his attention."
"Zack! Don't be ridiculous, I can't do that. I'll send him a picture of Max, they bonded today. In fact, it was super weird, it was like Max had finally found his alpha male. I've never seen Max behave that way." I turned around in my seat and took a photo of Max smiling and wagging his tale. I hit reply to Andy's text with his contact info and typed:
Truck jumped and returned to your place. Everyone is happy.
I then attached the photo of Max and hit send before I thought about it too much and second guessed myself.
I put my phone in my purse and turned on the car, putting it into drive and started back towards my place.
Later that night while watching Empire reruns I heard my phone buzz. I had kept it next to me on the couch and had been checking it obsessively ever since we got home. It was a text from Andy, with a picture attached.
Thanks, Jen. Cheers to you.
The picture showed his long, lean legs stretched out before him, crossed on an outdoor ottoman of some kind with the skyline of San Francisco in the background. In the foreground there was a tumbler with a single ice cube and some amber colored liquid.
I sighed heavily, showed it to Zack who seemed nonplussed by the whole affair and immediately went back to watching television. I looked at the image again and decided not to respond. What would I say? 'No worries. Just fuck me silly when you get back?' I turned my phone off and tried to go back to television, but my mind was drifting and I had a sudden yearning for a sea breeze and a dram of whiskey.