Playing It Safe

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

The next week is kind of surreal for me. I can’t tell you how many times within the first week of dating someone they had me running for the hills. But with Alex, it’s been nothing but smooth sailing. I’m sure most people will say that it’s only been a week and every relationship in the beginning is like that. My ass every relationship is like that in the beginning. That’s the biggest crock of shit. Pure propaganda bullshit spouted out by, yet again, books and movies.

Does any of this sound familiar? There is a fair young maiden—a virgin, of course, because she’s never had sex in all her twenty-one years of living. And before you go off the deep end and start hollering about how there’s nothing wrong with being a virgin, I agree there is absolutely nothing wrong with it. But in these stories the chick is always a virgin with a magic vagina who apparently has a beacon in said vagina that only attracts tattooed bad boys or roguish millionaires who are without one flaw and sweep her off her feet so they can live happily ever after.

Not one f*cking flaw.

Like I said, propaganda bullshit.

You know why?

Because no one is perfect. Not even the virgin with the magic vagina. Everyone has skeletons in their closet. Actually, some people have a whole goddamn graveyard in there. So the sooner you get all that shit out in the open, the better.

Unfortunately for me, I’ve usually had the pleasure of finding out about those skeletons within days of dating someone. Don’t get me wrong, there are some who have slipped through the cracks, and I’ve let down my guard long enough to get zapped in the ass. And I mean that literally. Ladies and gentleman of the jury, I present to you exhibit A: Jake Ryan.

No, not the Jake Ryan from Sixteen Candles. That was just a coincidence, but that was his real name. We met, of all places, in the checkout lane of a grocery store. I’m rolling my eyes just thinking about it. Anyway, we dated for a few weeks, and everything was going great. Really great. He seemed perfect.

One night post-coital, I dozed off. Next thing I knew, a pair of teeth bit down really hard on my ass, which made me shoot straight up in bed and yell so loud that the paint may have chipped from the walls. In total shock, I rubbed the spot and asked him what possessed him to chew on my ass like he was Hannibal Lecter. He said he was trying to get me back into the mood and thought I’d enjoy it. I don’t know when I gave off the vibe that I’d be into having my ass chomped like it was a cheeseburger. I spent the rest of the night with one eye open until I could make a clean getaway in the morning, and Jake was never to be heard from again. I had teeth marks and a welt on my ass for a good week afterward, making sitting down a chore because I could only sit on one ass cheek comfortably.


I have plenty of stories like this one. Too many. So when I say that so far this week has been surreal, I mean it.

Alex and I have spent the last week together in a blissful bubble of happiness. With every layer that is peeled back and revealed to me about him, I find myself wanting more, needing more from him. And that is saying a lot because I may be a lot of things, but needy is not one of them. So for me to admit that to myself is pretty huge. No, I’m not in love with him, but I’m definitely more in like with him than before.

And what’s not to like?

He’s attentive, thoughtful, caring, affectionate, sexy, gorgeous, suave, insatiable, interesting, funny … I could probably go on.

Every night has been spent either sleeping at his house or at my house. He’s even come to my office a couple of times this week and brought me lunch because he thought I was working too hard. Add sweet to the list. So can you blame me for thinking somewhere in the back of my mind that there has got to be something wrong with him? Like maybe he saves his toenail clippings in a ziplock bag. Or maybe he has to repeatedly wax his back because if not he’d look like Sasquatch. I’m actually right in the middle of trying to block out a few of these crazy theories while sitting in my office—one of which involves Alex potentially being the Zodiac Killer—when my office phone rings.

“Julia,” the receptionist says cheerily. “Your one o’clock appointment is here.”

I swipe my mouse and open my desktop to see that I do in fact have an appointment at one o’clock that I had completely forgotten about. Probably because I’ve been spending the better part of my morning trying to find out if Alex’s personality fits with a serial killer’s profile.

“Thank you,” I tell her. “You can send them in.”

As I hang up, I take another look at the calendar on the computer and note the name of the appointment: A. Locke.

It can’t be him. He wouldn’t come here to see me in the guise of an appointment after I told him not to ever contact me again. He couldn’t possibly be that dense. My head pops up at the sound of the door to my office opening to find Aiden walking in. Yes, apparently he can be that dense.

“Are you serious?” I ask. “You made an appointment to see me?”

He confidently strides to the chair in front of my desk and then unbuttons his suit jacket before sitting down. “Completely serious,” he says, grinning from ear to ear.

“Aiden, you have two seconds to get up and get out.”

He leans forward and rests his elbows on his knees. “All I’m asking for is a few minutes of your time, Julia. You owe me that much.”

I give him an incredulous look because he must be insane for even saying that. “I owe you that much,” I repeat and then point to myself. “You’re saying I, as in me, the person who got screwed royally by you, owe you? Did I get that right?”

“Okay, okay,” he says. “You don’t owe me, but ever since I saw you at the engagement party—”

“Your engagement party.”

“Yes, my engagement party,” he concedes with a chuckle. “It made me really stop and think about you, about what happened, and how I should have made things right between us a long time ago.”

Gone is the air of confidence that had accompanied him when he walked in my office. In its place is a sincere and soft expression that helps to placate some of the tension between us. Not completely. I’m still wary of him, but I’d be a liar if I say that there isn’t a small part of me that isn’t curious to hear what he has to say.

“Fine,” I say after a long pause. “You’ve got five minutes.”

He flashes a crooked smile before running a hand through his hair in relief. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet.” I glance at my watch. “And you’re down to four minutes and thirty seconds.”

“I don’t even know where to start. I didn’t think you’d ever let me explain. I thought I’d have to keep annoying you like a bad cold or—”

“Genital warts,” I finish for him, and after a long sigh, I go on. “Why don’t you start by explaining why you left?”

“It’s not that easy. There were so many things going through my mind back then.”

“Like what?” I ask.

“For one thing, I kept worrying that I wasn’t successful enough for you,” he says. “You had your career all mapped out, and you hit the ground running right after college, while I was stuck trying to figure out what the hell to even do with my degree.”

“So you’re saying that because I had a career, that’s how your dick ended up in another woman’s vagina?” I ask. “Aiden, if that’s your excuse, I don’t want to hear any more.”

“No, there’s more to it than that.” He takes a moment to collect his thoughts and steeples his fingers together underneath his chin. “I couldn’t wrap my head around the fact that you were more successful than me. I couldn’t stand knowing that there was no way in hell that I could provide for you, even on my best day. Every day I was digging myself deeper and deeper into a trench that I had no idea how to get out of.

“Julia, I was stupid. So f*cking stupid. In my stupidity, I started chatting online in a group for people who felt the same way about their lives. And in yet more of my stupidity, I started chatting privately with a woman from that group. I had never met her in person, but somehow I could relate to her on so many levels because she was going through the same thing as me.”

He smiles sadly as if he’s remembering something and then continues. “The great thing about the Internet is that you can let your guard down and be yourself. I’m not going to lie and tell you that I didn’t have a connection with her. I did. Obviously, since I went all the way to California to be with her. But I also can’t lie and tell you that I didn’t know it was a mistake the moment I did it, and I’ve regretted it every day since.”

I don’t know what I expected to hear. If it would come close to providing me with some sort of closure that I never thought I would have. Maybe I was hoping that he would say something that would validate all my years of hatred toward him. But his words don’t do that at all. He’s just made me more confused and hurt. Because all he’s really saying is that he was weak. There was no big bad reason or clandestine planning that was done behind my back. He knew what he was doing as he was doing it. So should I forgive him? Is that what his repeated attempts to contact me come down to? His absolution? Because I have to be honest, I’m not very good at forgiving. If that makes me a bitch, so be it. It’s the truth. After somebody does me wrong, I tend to write them right out of my life for good. The way I see it, that’s one less Christmas card I have to send out.

As if he were reading my mind, Aiden says, “I’m not looking for your forgiveness, Julia. I know that I don’t deserve it after what I did to you.”

“Then what do you want? Why bother coming to see me after all this time?”

He smiles again and sits back in the chair. “When I came back home to Miami, I wanted to seek you out. I really did. But every time I thought I had worked up the courage, I would find an excuse not to come see you. Before I knew it, too much time had gone by, and I tried to move on with my life. And then I met Sophia. I knew she had hired you to plan the engagement party. That’s why I never came to one meeting with her since it would have been awkward, to say the least. I couldn’t very well tell her how I knew you either. But I knew that I would have to see you eventually.”


“You think?” I ask sarcastically.

A small chuckle escapes him before he says, “After seeing you at the engagement party, it brought up all those old feelings again.”

“Feelings?”

“Not like that,” he says. “I mean the feelings of guilt over what I did to you.”

“Oh,” I say in a small voice.

“I don’t expect you to accept my apology, but I need to say it.” Aiden takes a quick breath and then finally says those magic words. “I’m sorry.”

It’s so quiet you can hear a pin drop. I take the opportunity of silence to gather my thoughts on those two little words. Everything hinges on them. At least for me they do. Do I believe him? Or is it that I am all of a sudden so desperate to want to believe him that I’m willing to accept his apology and finally let it all go? Dammit. The scorned bitch in me doesn’t want to so fast. It’s like she’s hanging on for dear life. But there is another part of me that rarely shows itself to the outside world, that needs to let it all go. That logical and very sensible part of me knows that I need to accept his apology and move the hell on with my life once and for all. That part of me knows that there is a certain amount of freedom in forgiveness and is ultimately why I choose to tolerate his words.

“I accept your apology, Aiden. Even though it’s five years late, I’ll take it,” I say with a hint of hesitation that makes him chuckle again.

“I know it’s not easy for you, Julia, but thank you. I needed to say it, whether you believed me or not.”

“Don’t get too excited. I still don’t like you very much.”

“I wouldn’t expect anything less from you,” he says with a wide grin.

In spite of myself, a matching grin fights its way onto my face.

“Who knows, maybe we can be actual friends one day,” he says.

“Slow your roll there, big guy,” I reply with a laugh. “How about I agree not to spit in your general direction the next time we see each other and work ourselves up from there.”

“Fair enough.” He nods and then tilts his head to the side while looking me over thoughtfully. “So how are things going with Alex? You know, the guy I saw you with the other night. His name is Alex, right?”

“It is, and I don’t see how that’s any of your business.”

An awkward silence ensues, and I take a moment to glance at my watch. “Listen, Aiden, I think it’s best if we just end this conversation right here and call it a day.”

“You’re right, it’s none of my business. I’m sorry, it’s just that … never mind.” He seems indecisive for a second and then stands up. “It was great to finally get a chance to talk to you, Julia. Thank you again.”

Aiden turns and starts walking toward my door, but dammit all to hell if that little bit of “never mind” doesn’t already start chewing away at my curiosity.

“Aiden, wait,” I say and stand up.

He stops at the door and turns around to face me.

I reach him in a few short strides and ask, “What were you going to say about Alex?”

“Julia, I’m sure it’s nothing, and you’re right, it’s really none of my business.”

I roll my eyes because when someone says something like that to you, they have to be crazy to think that you wouldn’t want to hear whatever it is they know.

“Fine,” he says in a sigh. “It’s just that Sophia seemed to think they’re quite serious. She’s friends with her, I’m sorry I don’t remember her name but—”

“It’s Marisa.”

His lips turn up in a half smile. “Yes, that’s the one. I guess Sophia knows her pretty well, and Marisa told her that they are very happy together.”

“Well that was before we started dating,” I say a tad too defensively.

Aiden leans forward and puts his hand lightly on my arm. “Julia, she also told Sophia that they’ve started talking about marriage.”

Have you ever had the wind knocked out of you? Well that’s exactly what it feels like when Aiden drops this little nugget of information on my lap. Actually, it feels worse. More like someone punched me in the gut and then kicked me in the heart for good measure.

“Look,” he says in a soft voice, “I just thought you should know. I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

“Again,” I say through clenched teeth.

He lets go of my arm and nods his head in silent agreement.

“I’m sorry, Julia,” he says quietly and opens the door to my office, leaving me standing at the threshold in absolute shock.

I walk back to my desk and plop my ass down in the chair in a daze. Think, Julia, think. Shit, I can’t think, at least not clearly after what I just found out. There is a part of me that doesn’t want to believe Aiden. When I replay his visit in my mind, it’s almost a bit too contrite. Like he was really playing up the apology angle and I just fell for it hook, line, and sinker. But … what does he have to gain from telling me any of it, apology included? Nothing.

On the other side of the fence is Alex, who has told me very little about Marisa but enough that I was convinced there was nothing going on there. Am I simply blind to what has been right in front of me all along? Or is he really telling me all there is to know about his relationship with her?

Okay, I need to get a grip and figure this all out later. I take a few calming breaths before I lose my mind and start throwing shit from my desk. Next, I pick up the stress ball and start going to town on it, hoping that it does exactly what it’s supposed to do. A short while later, I’m still massaging it while I’m reviewing the guest list for Josie’s party that Alex e-mailed me this morning when what do my wandering eyes stumble upon?

Marisa’s name, clear as day on the guest list.

What the hell?

Okay, I’m not going to panic. At least that’s what I try and tell myself while I’m having a full-on freak-out. The massage ball bursts in my hands, and the granulated sand within it goes flying everywhere. I mean everywhere. Down my blouse and in my bra, in my hair, and worst of all, in my eyes.

“Shit!” I yell because of the burning sensation in my eyes. “I’m blind!”

I hear my office door swing open, and Lisette’s familiar voice shouts in alarm, “What happened?”

“I can’t see anything because this thing just exploded in my face!” I shout back at her.

The sound of her footsteps rushing over to the right side of my desk makes me turn my head in that direction and try to open my eyes again.

“Lisette, can you help me walk to the bathroom so I can wash my eyes out?”

“Of course. Come on.”

She grabs hold of my wrist and takes the destroyed stress reliever ball out of my hand before helping me stand up. While my eyes feel like they are being stabbed by a million tiny razor blades and I’m cursing up a storm, I let Lisette lead me to the ladies’ restroom.

Once inside, she turns on the faucet and helps me duck my head underneath the running cool water so I can rinse out each eye thoroughly. It takes a while, but finally I’m able to open my eyes and see again, albeit with some discomfort.

I pick my head up and look at myself in the mirror to find a rabid raccoon with red, half-closed eyes and mascara running down its cheeks staring back at me. My eyes are still sore when Lisette hands me a few damp hand towels and instructs me to keep them on my eyes to relieve the puffiness.


“Do you mind telling me what happened?” she asks soothingly.

“I told you, that stupid stress ball thing busted open and exploded everywhere.”

“Obviously,” Lisette says, “but that’s not what I’m asking you.”

“I just got upset at something and didn’t realize I was squeezing it as hard as I was,” I answer quickly. Too quickly because it’s apparent to me that I sound like I’m trying not to be affected by everything I’ve found out today.

“And what got you so upset?”

“It’s not important.”

“Julia, I’ve known you for a long time. You can’t pull the wool over my eyes, so you better start talking,” she warns in a light tone.

“Fine,” I say, my voice low and uneasy. “Do you remember that Marisa chick?” She nods. “Well, her name is on the guest list for Josie’s party, and I kind of freaked because I didn’t expect to see her name. Like at all.”

“Why don’t you just ask Alex about it?”

I bring down the damp hand towels from my eyes and sigh out loud. “I don’t know about that.”

“Do you think he’s seeing her on the side or something?” she says curiously.

Thinking back to what intel I’ve found out about Marisa from Josie, Alex, and now Aiden, I have to assume that there is definitely something rotten in Denmark, but I’m not going to go into too much detail with Lisette about it. Especially the Aiden part because if she finds out he has a part to play in this, I’ll never hear the end of it.

“I can’t say for sure,” I say, my eyes still stinging. “It’s only been a week that we’ve been together, so I really shouldn’t assume anything, and at the same time I don’t want to come across as a jealous bitch, you know?”

Her ruby-red lips, which I can make out semi-clearly through my pain-filled eyes, quirk upward as if she’s trying not to laugh. Then her shoulders start to shake. Then she’s full-on laughing as if this is all funny.

“Do you mind telling me what’s so goddamn funny?” I ask her impatiently.

“Julia, it’s too late. You’re already a jealous bitch,” she says through her laughter.

Um, she might be right that I’m a tad jealous of Marisa. It’s a knee-jerk, territorial reaction kind of thing. But that doesn’t mean I want Alex to see this side of me.

“Shut it, Lisette,” I say under my breath. “You’re not helping.”

She clears her throat and puts both her hands on her hips in a defiant stance. “Julia, I’ve known you for a very long time, and I can honestly say that in all that time, I have never, ever, seen you all worked up over a guy.”

“And what’s your point?”

“?Dios mío, Julia! Seriously?” she says, throwing her hands up in the air. “You are so into him that it scares the living crap out of you. And I get it, I really do, but you need to let that go, live for today and stop being so afraid. From everything I’ve seen, Alex feels the same way, so cut the bitch act and talk to him about it. There’s probably a damn good reason for Marisa to be invited, but you’ll never know what that reason is unless you ask him.”

I start to dab my eyes again in an effort to absorb what Lisette said in all its glory. God, I hate it when she’s right. Actually, I hate being wrong period, but admitting it out loud is even more painful. Worse than that is that I don’t know if I can take one more crushing disappointment at this point in my life. And I know it will crush me, so that’s why I’m being extra cautious.

“Say something,” Lisette says in a rush. “Tell me to go to hell or to mind my own business, but at least say something, because you’re kind of freaking me out now.”

“You’re right.”

She tilts her head, and then her eyebrows knit together in confusion. “What did you just say?”

I clear my throat and mumble under my breath, “I said, you’re right.”

“Is it the apocalypse?” Lisette asks and then crosses herself before plucking the cross charm attached to her necklace out of her cleavage and giving it a kiss. “Did you actually agree with me on this?”

“Yup.”

I drop the damp towels from my eyes again and peer at her as she quietly looks on with a beaming smile on her face. “Don’t gloat, it’s not attractive.”

“Oh, I’m going to gloat, so get over yourself.” She clasps her hands behind her back while staring at me with a pleased look on her face for a few seconds and then exhales loudly and says, “Okay, I’m done gloating. Go ahead, start talking.”

“It’s only been a week, Lisette. A week full of a lot of hot and crazy sex and pillow talk. And I’m not complaining because, well, you know.” She winks in understanding. “Anyway, we’re in this nice and cozy little bubble that I don’t want to burst yet.”

“Burst how?”

“I mean everything is perfect right now as is. I don’t want to rock the boat and start digging up shit that could potentially ruin everything.” As an afterthought I add, “Plus, who’s to say there isn’t anything more to us than sex?”

I know Alex has told me we are more than f*ck buddies, but still … there’s a possibility that that’s all there is. One that I’ve had in the back of my mind regardless of his repeated attempts to pacify my concerns.

See what years of craptastic dating can do to your psyche?

“It’s definitely more than sex, Julia,” Lisette calmly says. “The way that man looks at you … trust me, it’s more than that, so you need to get that thought right out of your head.”

“That’s easier said than done.”

“Stop doing that,” she says, her voice going flat.

“What?”

“That. Where you compare every guy to Aiden. It’s not fair to Alex. You need to give him a chance to explain this and give him a chance period.”

“I hate it when you’re right, you know that?”

Her mouth curls into a delighted grin. “I know you do. But don’t worry, your secret is safe with me.”

She gives me her elbow so I can loop my arm through, and she guides me back to my office, where she helps me clean up the mess left from the stress ball explosion. After she leaves me alone, and after another reminder that I need to give Alex a chance to explain, I shoot off a quick text to him.

Dinner at my place tonight?

He answers back right away.

Absolutely. What time?

7:00 p.m.

He agrees with a return text, and it literally takes all of me from responding with a litany of questions, the first of which would be something like: “What the f*ck is going on with you and Marisa?” But cooler heads prevail, and I decide to wait until later tonight to dig into Alex’s past so I can decide what the truth really is.