A Long Time Coming

: Chapter 8



I’m fucking bored.

Staring at my computer and the Tetris blocks blotting down the screen, I realize that my life is pathetic.

Yup.

This is what I’m doing, playing Tetris on my computer like some seventy-year-old man, all because my best friend is hanging out with her soon-to-be husband, and my brothers are off having copious amounts of sex with their wives. See, this is exactly what I was talking about. I need a life outside of my norm.

I need people to hang out with.

I need activities.

I need something other than sitting at home by myself, wearing a Batman Band-Aid over my nipple because I thought it was funny.

Standing from my desk, I stretch my arms over my head, and I go to text JP to see what he’s doing, then pause. I know what he’s doing, his wife.

Huxley too.

And it’s not even like I can text Banner—our new business partner and friend—because he hooked up with someone at JP and Kelsey’s wedding. Everyone is coupled. EVERYONE!

Stupid, I should be coupled too, not sitting around my house, drinking freaking orange juice and attempting to beat my own personal best on Tetris at seven o’clock at night.

I pick up my phone, click on the thread with Birdy, and shoot her a text.

Breaker: What are you up to? I’m pathetically playing Tetris alone at the moment.

I walk to my bedroom, where I strip out of my shorts and put on a pair of black joggers just as she texts back.

Birdy: I’m watching Sex and the City while feasting on one of our pussy cakes.

Breaker: LOL. Want some company?

Birdy: Always. I’ll ping you my address. By the way, dress comfy. I’m in loungewear.

Breaker: Slipping on a plain T-shirt as we speak.

Birdy: Oh, did I mention no shirt is necessary?

Breaker: I think you skipped that detail. See you soon.

BIRDY LIVES in a really nice apartment.

Gated community, lavish pool, and expertly landscaped. Not sure how much she pays for rent, but it’s probably more than I do, which I find funny given the vast difference in our bank accounts.

I pull into a parking spot outside of her building, grab the box of cupcakes from our class off my seat—never show up empty-handed—and jog up the steps toward apartment 3C.

I knock on the door three times, and I’m tempted to kick the footboard but remind myself that’s something I do with Lia and hold back. The locks are undone, and the door opens for me to find Birdy on the other side wearing a pair of silk shorts and a simple black tank top.

“You brought cupcakes? I thought you wouldn’t have any left after how you took them down in the class.”

“I went on a one-day detox.” I hand them to her just as she steps up to me, places her hand on my chest, and greets me with a kiss on the corner of my mouth. That was unexpected, but I didn’t mind it.

“I’m glad you’re here.” She then takes my hand and pulls me into her apartment.

I slip my shoes off, lock the door behind me, and then follow her into the living room, where she takes a seat on the couch and pulls me down with her.

Her apartment is what I would have expected from her. Pristine white furniture with beige and tan tones spread throughout the space. It’s clean, sharp, modern, and serene. Not one action figure decoration and not one poster. Very grown-up.

A far cry from my place.

And Lia’s for that matter.

Sitting on her knees, she turns toward me and says, “I need to talk to you about something.”

“Uh, okay,” I answer as I turn toward her as well.

“Well, more like apologize.”

“You apologized enough about the baking class,” I say. “And I had fun, oddly.”

“It’s not about the baking class. It’s about . . .” She winces and then adds, “The kiss.”

“Oh, uh, what about the kiss?” I ask her.

“I know it was awkward.”

“What are you talking about?” I ask, knowing damn well it felt a touch awkward.

“I was nervous and clammed up when I kissed you. I’m honestly surprised you’re even here after that kiss. When I got your text, I gasped. I was waiting on a late-night Friday phone call telling me you can’t meet up to hike.”

“Birdy—”

“I’m a better kisser than that,” she says in a panic. “Much better. I’m just, God, I’m so nervous around you.”

“Why?” I ask. “I don’t think I’m very intimidating.”

“You’re not. That’s the problem. If you were some alpha asshole, then yeah, I probably wouldn’t feel so jittery around you, but you’re a nice guy, a sweet one, and you’re the kind of guy who’s hard to find, especially in Los Angeles. I keep telling myself I’m going to blow it, and I truly thought I did with that kiss.”

“You need to stop overthinking things,” I say, even though she’s completely right. I thought the same thing about the kiss. Guess I wasn’t alone on this. That’s comforting. Maybe it was the tight-lipped thing after all.

“I’m sorry. I’m just so caught up in my previous relationship that it’s difficult to shake those thoughts in my head. But I’ll do better.”

“Take your time,” I say as I drape my arm over the back of her couch. “I don’t plan on going anywhere, and as it stands, we’re still going on that hike on Saturday.”

“Good, because I went shopping today and got the perfect outfit for it.”

“Oh yeah?” I ask with a laugh. “Wasn’t sure there was a perfect hike slash birdwatching outfit out there.”

“If you look hard enough. You can find it.”

“Tell me more about this outfit.”

“Oh no, no sneak peeks. It will be a surprise.”

“Well, if it’s not a shirt with a bird on it, I will be incredibly disappointed.”

All she does is smile, and it’s really cute. She’s really cute. And funny. And sweet. Pretty much everything I would probably look for in a match. It’s why I need to try harder to make this work.

“So did you go wedding planning with Lia today?”

“Yup, checked out some flowers.”

She draws closer. I can tell she wants to be more intimate, so I shift my body to face her more, and then I draw a circle with my finger over her bare shoulder. There seems to be relief in her eyes, so I continue.

“What did you end up choosing?”

“Now, Birdy,” I admonish. “What kind of Pickle of Honor would I be if I gave out the secrets of the wedding?”

“Pickle of Honor? This needs some explanation.”

“Lia and I are huge Scrabble nerds. We were in a club together in college, and one night, it was just me and her playing, which is usually how the club gathering ended anyway. I was exhausted but needed to beat her at one more game. I had the workings to spell pickle and accidentally spelled it wrong. And of course, I was a cocky son of a bitch back then, especially when Scrabble was involved, so I called out my points like a master, and she pointed at the board, saying I spelled it wrong. It was humiliating, and the name stuck. I’m her pickle.”

She chuckles. “You know, pickle could be thought of as something else.”

I pause and then shake my head. “Trust me, this pickle has never gone there.”

She laughs some more. “Well, I love your friendship. I think it’s sweet. Do you have a lot of close friends? Or just Lia?”

“Well, I used to hang out with my brothers until they got married. That’s put a real damper on our basketball games. I still see them, but it’s more of a group thing, which grants their wives access to my personal business. They can be very needy when it comes to knowing all about my single life and how they can make me . . . un-single. And then there’s my friend Banner, who just started working with us. He’s pretty cool, but he’s seeing this girl Kenzie, well, sort of seeing her. I don’t know where they stand. So he’s occupied with that.” I nod my head slowly. “Looks like I’m at that time in my life where everyone pairs up.”

“I know what you mean,” Birdy says. “When I was with my ex, it was as if everyone was getting married or having kids. We did couple things together, and when we broke up, it was as if no one had time for me.”

“That’s shitty, but I know the feeling.”

“Can’t blame them, though,” she says. “They’re in love after all.”

“I guess so. I think that’s what has put a fire in me to meet someone. I’m not desperate or anything, but I also don’t want to be lonely.”

“I totally get that. I’m the same way. I don’t need someone to be happy, but it’s fun to do things with someone . . . you know, like hiking.” She reaches out and plays with the fabric of my shirt.

“And icing pussies.”

Her smirk is really sexy when she looks up at me. “Exactly. Like icing pussies.”

Taking a risk, I tug on her hand and say, “Come here.” To my luck, she listens and straddles my lap. I lean against the couch cushion so I’m looking up at her. “How was work today?”

“That’s what you’re going to ask me while I’m sitting on your lap?”

“Yeah,” I answer as my hands fall to her thighs. “I have all of my everyday conversations like this. You should see the fistfights I get into with my brothers over who gets to be the bottom and who gets to be the top.”

She lets out a sultry laugh while she draws circles on my chest this time. “Oh, what an image that has formed in my head.”

“We find if we sit on each other’s laps, we can focus on the conversation and block out distractions. I’ve had hour-long conversations on JP’s lap where we’ve brainstormed over our next business venture. If it wasn’t for the obvious HR violation, we would have everyone sit on each other’s laps.”

“You know, maybe you’re onto something. My marketing brain is thinking that you could form some sort of device that prevents pelvis-to-pelvis contact but allows the same position. Oh, and you can add some horse blinders to really keep out the distraction.”

“Wow, Birdy. Wow. That’s positively genius.”

She brushes off her shoulder. “Thank you, but the idea goes to you. I’m just the dream maker.”

“Is that what you call yourself at work?”

“When I strike it big with a huge idea, of course. I quietly print out a certificate of completion with the name dream maker on it. I have a whole folder of them. In my desk drawer.”

“A whole folder would imply that you’re very good at being a dream maker.”

“I am.”

We spend the next hour or so talking about anything and everything, her sitting on my lap, me holding her thighs and not making a move at all. Not one single move.

She tells me about how she loves to go surfing—something I’ve never done in my life—how she is a huge fan of all types of cereal—the more sugar, the better—and how she once had a dog with three legs and said he was the best dog she ever had.

I shared with her my desire to own every Star Wars bobblehead ever made, how I believe the original bromance of our time is C3PO and R2D2—and she proceeded to tell me she’s only watched the most recent episodes and how she doesn’t get the whole Kylo and Rey fetish. I nearly balked with disappointment.

“Are you thirsty or anything?” Birdy asks.

“Nah, I’m good. I should probably get going, though, because I’m sure you need to wake up early tomorrow.” I rub my hands over her thighs.

“I do happen to have a five thirty wake-up call.”

“Yeah, I have a meeting with Hux tomorrow at his place.”

“Okay, well . . .” Her fingers dance along my shirt. “I guess I should walk you to the door.” She gets off my lap and then holds out her hand. I take it, and we walk over to her front door together. I slip on my shoes, and when I’m done, I stand tall and find her leaning against the wall right next to the door, her hands behind her back. “Thank you for coming over.”

“Yeah, I had a nice time, even though you’re not a fan of the Kylo Ren and Rey love affair.”

“I just can’t get on board,” she says, holding steady. “Sorry. Doesn’t work for me.”

“Such a disappointment,” I teasingly reply and then take a step forward. I hook my finger under her chin, close the space between us one more time, and hover right above her lips, waiting for her.

She closes the rest of the distance between us and smooths her hand up my chest while her mouth opens, encouraging mine as well. I drop my free hand to the wall next to her head, propping myself up, and deepen the kiss, letting my tongue explore now.

Her hands float up to my cheeks, where she cups them. Her tongue matches my strokes, and for the first time in a few months, I make out right there in the entryway of a girl’s apartment.

I revel in the feel of her soft lips.

I sink into the grasp she has on my cheeks.

And when she gasps for a touch of air, I commit it to memory.

I’ve forgotten what it feels like to be intimate with a woman, and this feels good.

When I pull away, her lashes lift as her eyes connect with mine. I smile down at her and say, “Better?”

“Much.” She runs her tongue along her lips. “So much better.”

“Good.” I lean down and press one more kiss to her lips before pulling away. “I’ll see you Saturday for that hike.”

“Yes, Saturday,” she replies as I open the door to her apartment and head out. “Night, Breaker.”

“Night, Birdy,” I say just before I take off down the hall.

“MORNING, BREAKER,” Lottie says as she answers the door to her house. “How are you?”

“Good,” I say. “What about yourself?” She isn’t dressed for the day yet, still in a robe with her hair up in a bun.

“Doing okay.” Huxley appears just then and loops his arm around her waist. He presses a kiss to the side of her head and says, “Can I get you anything?”

She shakes her head and pats his hand. “I’m good.” And then she walks toward the kitchen, Huxley’s eyes watching her every step.

“What does it feel like?” I ask him.

When he turns toward me, he asks, “What does what feel like?”

“To be that in love. You’re so protective, possessive, infatuated. I don’t think I’ve ever been like that with someone.”

“Of course you have,” he says. “You’re that way with Lia.”

“Lia and I aren’t romantically involved.”

“You might not be, but you know how you get when Brian’s mom picks on her, that instinctual feeling like you will do fucking anything to make sure no one hurts your girl? That’s the feeling. That deep-seated feeling that never goes away.”

I slowly nod my head. “I get that feeling with Lia, but not on a romantic level, on a best friend level.”

“Well, when you finally fall in love with someone, that feeling you have with Lia will transfer over. Why do you ask?” He heads toward his office, and I follow him.

“I’ve sort of gone out with this girl the last few days, and she’s pretty awesome. Beautiful and smart. Great sense of humor. We don’t have much in common, but she’s sweet, quick-witted, and interesting. I went to her place last night, and we talked a lot, she even sat on my lap for a while, but I didn’t have this overwhelming need to touch her. I kept my hands on her legs because I felt like that was the right thing to do, and when I kissed her good night, I really fucking liked it, but I don’t know, I don’t think I felt anything with her.”

“Was she a bad kisser?” Huxley asks as he takes a seat at his desk. I take a seat at the one across from him.

“No, a really good kisser actually.” I heave a heavy sigh and lean forward, hands clasped. “I don’t know, man. I think I’m going through some shit, and I don’t know how to process it. I think this lawsuit and the wedding are fucking with my head.”

“Do you want to like this girl?” Huxley asks.

“I don’t want to be left behind. Alone. Everyone I know is either married, getting married, or in a relationship. I’m just over in my lonely apartment playing fucking Tetris on my computer.”

“That never bothered you before. You love Tetris.”

“I still do,” I say softly. “Fucking love it, but I don’t know, it just feels like I’m at a point in my life when maybe I should have a serious girlfriend. I’ve never really had one before, and that’s sort of weird, right?”

“You never needed one before. You’ve leaned on Lia for female companionship, and when you’ve wanted sex, you’ve had your fun. You’ve had the perfect setup for quite some time.”

“Wait, do you really think that’s it? That’s why I haven’t had a true girlfriend? Because I’ve leaned on Lia all these years?”

“Yes,” Huxley says, exhausted. “It’s frightening that you haven’t taken note of that before. It’s so fucking obvious.”

“Not to me,” I say as I lean back on my chair and press my hands into my thighs. “Do you think that’s why I haven’t found someone? Because I’ve been content with Lia?”

Huxley rubs his temple, his short patience showing. “Yes,” he answers. “That’s exactly why, because why do you need a girlfriend when Lia is all you’ve ever needed?”

“Jesus. I never thought of it that way.” If that’s the case, then it conversely means that Lia wasn’t content with just me. I have never been what she needed because she started dating Brian. So even though she’s worried about things changing between us, they already have. She now needs Brian, which means she doesn’t need me as much. Man, have I been blind.

“Glad I can enlighten you. Now, can we get back to why you’re really here?”

“I guess so,” I say as my mind whirls. “But just one second. Do you think I should . . . I don’t know, stop hanging out with Lia so much?”

Huxley pinches his brow now. “Why would you do that? You’re just going to hurt her feelings.”

“Yeah, but she has Brian, so shouldn’t there be like . . . a transition of power?”

“You’re not the goddamn President of the United States.”

“I know that,” I say, exasperated. “But with Brian and Lia getting married soon, shouldn’t I back away a bit? Brian already has issues with how much time Lia and I spend together. Like, I should hand him the torch, right?”

“I don’t know. If you think you should, then go for it. Now can we talk about the lawsuit, please?”

“Sure, sorry,” I say and then pause. “It’s just that I saw Birdy last night and the kiss was good, but I didn’t feel a spark, and I wasn’t sure if I should be feeling a spark or if it’s too soon to feel a spark? I don’t know, did you feel a spark with Lottie?”

Huxley tosses his pen onto the desk and leans back in his chair. “You tell me, do you think I felt a spark with my wife?”

“From what I’ve observed, I would say yes.”

“Immediately,” he says. “I might have thought she was annoying, frustrating, and downright irritating most of the time, but there was no doubt in my mind that she was the prettiest fucking thing I’d ever seen, and I wanted her in my bed.”

“Ah,” I say, nodding. “Same you think with JP?”

“Dude, seriously? Come on, you saw JP when he met Kelsey for the first time. The man had heart eyes coming out of every orifice of his body.”

“Yeah, I know.” I glance to the side. “It’s not like that with Birdy. But I also wonder if I have a mental block now, and I’m not allowing myself to feel for her the way I should because of the leaning on Lia thing. Do you think that could be an issue?”

“I think there’s going to be a huge fucking issue soon if we don’t stop talking about this and get down to business.”

“Yeah, okay . . . sorry.” I chew on my thumbnail. “Real quick though, what are your thoughts on Kylo and Rey? Is it weird I’m considering dating someone who doesn’t believe in the love affair as I do?”

“Jesus fucking Christ.”


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