Chapter Four
Wren
I t had been almost a week since the golf outing, and I hadn’t heard from Daniel since he texted the day after. He’d sent a short message, saying Fun meeting you with a yellow birdie and clover emoji. That was all he wrote. Granted, I only replied with Ditto and a golf tee or mound or whatever that thing was…and left it be.
I was considering deleting his contact when I walked out of my Latin class. It was an elective, but I was told it looked good on a medical school application, so here I was, leaving the small seminar on a dead language, making mental promises not to google Daniel, when a huge dog leaped on me.
Somehow my quick reflexes helped my hands push up and grab his or her paws, and then I was staring a familiar yellow dog in the eyes.
“Brutus,” an also familiar Scottish accent called out.
I looked up, my eyes meeting his.
“Hey there, Birdie,” he said as if he’d expected to meet up.
“Hi.” It was all I could get out. I shoved my bag farther up my shoulder while petting the dog.
“I just got back from a golf tournament, and was wondering if you knew what day of the week it was…”
“Ha! Very funny, you decided to make fun of me after not seeing me for a week. It’s Friday. Tomorrow is Saturday.” Like I said, my sarcasm always shined through.
“Sorry about that… My dad came to see me play. He’s intense and doesn’t leave much time for me to do anything other than work on my game.”
My hand loosened my hair out of my messy bun, allowing it to fall around my face. The sun was burning brightly, despite it being fall—it was the desert—but without humidity a chill slinked up my spine. “Sorry for the attitude,” I admitted.
“It’s cool. Anyway, I thought I might find you here…”
“Thought?”
“I may have DM’d your friend.”
“So you’re sliding into my friends’ DMs now?”
“It was all very G-rated.” He winked, looking confident in his endeavor to win me over.
“Nothing with Sella is G-rated.”
We walked along the quad, aiming for nowhere, Brutus moseying next to us.
“She may have urged me to go and grab her girl with a tiger emoji.”
Stopping, I looked at Daniel. His hair was messy, and he was wearing a polo shirt with a small whale on the chest, khaki shorts, and running shoes. He looked like a normal college guy, except he wasn’t. “Here you are, grabbing Sella’s girl,” I commented.
“Noted. Now that I’ve grabbed you, how about dinner later?”
“I don’t know. I have a ton to do. Applications…” My excuses trailed off.
“It’s Friday, like you mentioned.”
“Is it? My panties say it’s Monday.” Slamming my eyes shut, I was embarrassed by my own brashness.
“Monday is the new Friday. At least that’s what I heard. Come on, a quick dinner,” he said, taking my hand in his and bringing it to his lips, placing a kiss above my knuckles. “Do me the honor?”
With one brush of his lips over my skin, I was a goner. “Okay,” I said softly. “But I have one more class…”
“That’s cool. I have to go to the range. I can grab you around seven?”
Forcing myself to nod, I couldn’t believe I was agreeing to this.
“Text me the address.”
With a squeeze of my hand, I realized we were still connected there too late. As soon as he let go, I felt naked and exposed.
“Bye, Brutus,” I said, bending over and ruffling the top of his head. He looked up at me, brown discs for eyes, tongue hanging out, and I imagined he mirrored how I looked.
I was about to say goodbye when Daniel leaned in and whispered, “Don’t forget the panties. I don’t care if it’s the wrong day of the week.”
I couldn’t help my left eyebrow lifting up as I eyed him…
“Kidding. Dinner. Just dinner.”
He ran off with Brutus before I could respond, and I was left wondering if I wanted him to be kidding or not.
Staring in the mirror, I half turned and took a look at my butt in the dark jeans I’d stashed in the back of my closet. Skinny dark jeans I’d bought last Christmas and never wore. They accented all my Mediterranean curves, and I wasn’t sure about them.
“Looks great,” Kimberlie ducked into my room and exclaimed like she was my bestie. I hadn’t seen her in a week or longer.
Gotta love how she popped into my room without knocking.
“Thanks. You’re home?”
“For a sec. Had to grab something my parents kept asking me about. A tax form.”
I didn’t respond. Kimberlie was an odd duck but split the rent and didn’t cause problems. Period.
“Anyway, whatever you’re doing, have fun,” was all she said before turning and leaving.
Like I said, she had issues.
Studying myself from the front, I wondered if the white blouse was appropriate for where we were going. Daniel hadn’t said, so I went with the dark jeans, ankle boots, and the blouse tucked in, a Southwest-type belt tying it all together.
Tiny flares of anxiety fluttered in my belly like butterflies in the summer. I was eternally grateful when Sella said she was going to a concert with some friends from her major. I’d mumbled something about having a lot of work, and knowing me, she’d accepted the excuse. Having her here while I got ready would have ratcheted up my nerves even more than they were.
Sneaking one last glance at my rear end, I smiled at no one, knowing I hadn’t worn my day-of-the-week panties. Channeling Sella, I went with a black lace thong I’d also purchased a while back and never worn. It was still unclear whether Daniel would see it or not—I wasn’t certain whether I wanted him to, or he did.
Slicking on red lip gloss, I was ready. I’d told Daniel I’d meet him out front, mostly not wanting him to see the inside of my place and/or run into Sella. Hightailing it out the door, down the stairs, and outside, I blamed my rapid heartbeat on rushing. When I saw Daniel leaning against his car, like Jake Ryan in the famed eighties movie, I knew it had nothing to do with running down the stairs.
It was a clear night and dusk was falling all around us, the sky resembling purple cotton candy. I was in a dream sequence. This wasn’t my life.
“Hey there,” Daniel said, stepping away from the car and coming to greet me. With a kiss to my cheek, he spoke quietly. “Thanks for coming.”
A smile broke free across my face, and I figured there were no words needed.
He opened the car door, and I hopped in while he ran around front.
We sped off and I was wondering where we were going when he said, “Do you eat meat? Wait, that came out wrong… Do you eat steak?”
“I do.” I spoke through a laugh, and silently loved how easy communicating with Daniel was. Chatting had not come easy for me when it came to guys. I was often “too much” for them, and I wasn’t changing for anyone. My mom had sacrificed her feminism and done enough changing for my dad, giving up her Jewish roots, staying in a career she didn’t enjoy, and playing the dutiful wife. It wasn’t for me.
“Good. I made a reservation at Mastro’s.”
“Great,” was my response, like I went there all the time. I’d never been. It was a white-tablecloth, fancy steak joint for adults. And Daniel Campbell, golf player. “Did you win your tournament? I’m not sure what to say—is that what it’s called?”
“Our team, our school, I mean, did win. It’s a complicated setup. We play as a team of five and individually. But we won as a team, and I won too, so yeah…”
“That’s great. Must be so cool.”
“It’s better when my dad isn’t there. I played tense.” He ran a hand through his hair as we drove along, the night sky darkening.
I watched his profile as the lights whizzed by. “I’m sorry to hear that. I get it though. My dad will not settle for anything short of medical school. It’s like his ego is tied to my success.”
“Sure sounds like my dad. Maybe that’s why this feels so amazing. We get one another on a cerebral level.”
“Maybe?”
“Doesn’t it feel right? Good, meant to be?”
Daniel rattled on, and while I agreed, it was scary to think it felt this perfect with someone.
Luck was on my side because we turned into the restaurant and we could dodge any more intimate kind of talk. Daniel parked next to the valet stand and jumped out, grabbing my door before the ogling attendant could.
“Come on,” he said, hand lightly on my elbow, guiding me inside, making sure the other guy knew I was with him. If I wasn’t so inexperienced, I would think he was pissing on his territory.
“Campbell, table for two,” Daniel told the host, and we were whisked off to a semicircle-shaped booth in the bar.
I slid in and he slid in next to me as a server appeared to pour sparkling water.
“Good to see you, Danny-boy,” the server said.
“Hey, Jon. This is Wren.”
“Nice to meet you, Wren.” Jon winked and was off.
Of course I couldn’t help myself. “Come here with all the ladies?” I’d used the quip before when Daniel told me about Brutus; I couldn’t seem to avoid my jealous side showing itself when it came to the golfer.
“Never. Usually with my teammates or my parents when they visit.”
I admitted my earlier thoughts. “I’ve never been.”
“Glad to be your first.”
He winked, making sure I noted the double entendre. Although he wouldn’t be my first, but that wasn’t a discussion for now.
He changed gears. “Wine? Cocktail? I know you have a lot to do, so no pressure.”
As seniors, we were both twenty-one, and the gimmick of drinking had worn off, at least for me. “A glass of red. Cabernet. You know it’s good for the heart. At least, someone said it once,” I said.
“I hear you, Doc.” He motioned for Jon. “We’ll have a bottle of Cabernet, whatever you recommend.”
I smiled to no one, hearing a tiny wisp of Daniel’s Scottish accent coming out.
Jon was gone in a hot second, and we were left alone again.
“What was the biggest difference when you moved here?” I figured I’d head into first-date territory even though the electric fuse between us was way past that zip code.
“Ha! The driving. Wrong side of the car and the road. Almost wrecked for a whole year. Now I can’t drive when I go home.”
Sitting next to one another, I felt the heat crackle inside the sliver of space between our outer thighs. “I bet you did. I don’t think I could do it.”
“Also, the heat. Especially here.”
“I had a hard time too. I’m from Michigan, so the blue skies and unlimited sunshine of the desert were a draw, but my skin said otherwise. Took a while to get used to the lack of humidity and constant sun.”
“Do your parents visit?”
I started to open my mouth but was interrupted by Jon appearing with a bottle of red wine. He and Daniel did the whole opening, sniffing, tasting song and dance before he poured us both a glass.
“Have you made your selections?”
“We haven’t even looked,” Daniel admitted. “Give us a second.”
Jon nodded and was off. We had a quick conversation, agreeing on the chopped salad for two and the mashed potatoes to share. Daniel wanted a strip steak, and I wanted a filet.
There was another motioning for Jon, the order placed, and Daniel stated, “To us,” with his glass in the air. We each took a sip of the wine, and he asked again, “Your parents?”
“Not much. Dad’s a doctor, married to his practice. OB/GYN.” I spelled out the letters affirmatively like he would. “My mom is, was, a big-time feminist, but stayed in a low-level journalism job in Detroit because my dad kept her down. She does the newsletter and blog for his website, when she could be writing for the Times . My dad doesn’t like to leave, and my mom is usually too stressed to go anywhere.”
He shook his head. “That’s too bad. I guess her hope is all wrapped up in you doing what she couldn’t?”
“Bingo!”
His hand came to rest on my knee, the heat of his palm sinking through my jeans, warming me in places that had been dormant for a long while.
“And my dad wanted a son. Like Sella’s dad. So, I’m his only hope of another doctor even though he thinks I need a less grueling specialty than his.”
Between the wine and Daniel drawing figure eights on my knee with his thumb, I was feeling dizzy. The physical sensations combined with us discussing feelings were all too much.
“I’m pretty sure you can do whatever specialty you want. Even veterinary medicine. They’re doctors too, you know?”
“It’s a lost cause. Now, tell me more about you.”
Our salad arrived and Jon served each of us a heaping portion. In between bites, Daniel spoke, his accent occasionally ringing through and taking my breath away, especially when he spoke about his mom.
“She’s a good mum. I don’t mean she doesn’t have a career or a life, but being a mum has been her best accomplishment. She loves me. She’s a floral designer, has her own shop. My dad’s in finance.”
“Wow, what a cool combo. And sister? Brother?”
“One sister. She’s married. She and her husband have a wee little guy, August is his name. Doreen’s eight years older than me. I was a happy oops, I guess.”
Wild—we both had pressure, but Daniel’s felt seated in happiness and mine wasn’t.
Luckily, once the server brought out entrées, straight through the peanut butter pie we shared, we stuck to funny and light conversation.
“…Brutus was bullshit. Paced all night, whining for me to keep taking him out…”
Daniel laughed through his story as I took a bite of the pie. He stopped talking, watching me swallow—the tension between the two of us was a living, breathing thing.
“Poor guy,” I said, frowning.
“He’s the one who ate the garbage.”
“He’s a dog.”
“A smart one…he never did it again.”
“I’ll give him that.”
On that note, Daniel winked and reached into his back pocket and brought out his credit card. Sliding it to the end of the table, he asked, “Good time? Easy enough?”
I nodded, again at a loss for words.
The server swooped by, taking the hint and grabbing the card.
“It was delicious,” I finally said.
“It was, and the scenery was perfect.” With his gaze burning into mine, he ran his fingers through my hair, taking a curl and placing it behind my ear.
“This room is really nice.” I went for dull and bland after an endearing moment.
And Daniel took it in stride with, “Not nearly as nice as you. Or as beautiful.”
We stayed like that, eyes locked, until the final bill appeared. Daniel signed, stood up, and offered his hand to me. With my fingers in his, I slid out of the booth and walked out with our hands still entwined.
Settled in the car, Daniel asked, “Want to come over? No pressure. Brutus would like it, and me too.”
“Yes. I’d like it too.”
We were like a pair of parrots, mimicking one another.
He drove toward his place, our windows down, the cool night air filtering through the car doing little to squelch the raging hormones.
I reached for something appropriate or light to say. “Where does Brutus go when you travel home?” In all my short life, I’d never felt so amped up.
“He usually goes to this doggie spa. It’s not too bad. He gets all kinds of specialty treats and they have a pool shaped like a dog bone.”
“Posh.”
“He has to go there when I travel for tournaments too. They’re pretty cool, so I like it.”
“I used to walk all the dogs in my neighborhood. After school. I had a big client list. Started in the eighth grade.”
I studied his profile in the moonlit car as he listened, and noticed a slight five o’clock shadow appearing. Taking it in wasn’t helping my sweltering hormones.
“I bet all the dogs loved you. Like Brutus. Animals can always tell a good person.”
I gave a little “Yeah” as we pulled into his parking space, and swallowed back any reservations I was having. I was a college senior, applying to medical school. I deserved a fun night.
As soon as the car was in park, Daniel was out and rounding the back, before opening my door. My hand in his, my blood sizzled again. I could feel my pulse beating in my neck— ga, goom, ga, goom —and resisted the urge to bring my fingers to the spot and touch the furious pace .
We hit the elevator and Daniel’s lips were on mine. My back pressed to the wall, and his mouth all over my own, he lifted my thigh, grinding into my core with his length.
A loud moan escaped me as soon as the elevator door opened, except there wasn’t time to be ashamed… Daniel had my hand in his and we were power walking to his door. When he swung it open, Brutus came bouncing toward us and nearly toppled me over.
“Hurry up and say your hellos,” he said to me, and I did as I was told.
He made quick work of running Brutus downstairs and outside for a bathroom break. The moment he was back in the condo, I was up against the wall, where we resumed the same position as the elevator. Kissing, grinding, our bodies demanding friction.
It was consuming and powerful in a way I’d never known. Not only because of how Daniel looked and felt physically, but the way he heard me, ingested what I said, and laughed at my sarcastic wit.
“Wren,” Daniel breathed, barely losing contact with my lips. “Feels so good.”
I leaned my forehead into his and took in large gulps of air.
“This is unexpected,” he murmured into my ear, his teeth grazing the lobe. “We have some kind of connection.”
I was nodding this whole time, trying to come up with something magnificent to say. Nothing came to mind, so I went along with Daniel.
Then he was back to kissing me until he wasn’t. He started to trace over my skin with his lips. First my neck, then my clavicle, his tongue fluttering lower… He worked his way down to my cleavage, moving my shirt at his convenience before reaching under and pulling it over my head.
He checked in. “Okay?”
And I forced out “Yes” through uneven breaths.
He began to slink down my body, his palms grazing my sides until they hit the waistband of my jeans. With his knees on the entryway carpet, his dexterous hands met by my zipper and made quick work of slipping my jeans over my butt, his mouth quickly back to my skin, tracing my navel. Chills ran the length of my spine as he followed the light trail of hair down my abdomen, making his way to the top of my panties.
“I see you’ve downgraded,” he whispered against my pelvic bone, his eyes focused on my lacy thong.
“I thought you’d consider it an upgrade.”
Looking up at me he spoke, his voice gravelly. “I don’t know, I kind of got off on those days-of-the-week undies.” With a wink he was back to exploring my current underwear selection with his teeth, dragging them lower, revealing my landing strip—it was a beacon he followed willingly.
A small growl came from the Scotsman’s chest, and as soon as his tongue touched down above my hairline, my head fell back. He traced along my curls, finding my most sensitive spot, and went to work.
Yeah, I’d been gone down on before. But if I was honest, not like this. Daniel was hungry, voracious in his efforts. He seemed to have an endless appetite for me. I succumbed to the feelings until a wave took over my body, pulling every bit of pleasure from my nerves. When I felt like I was going to go limp, Daniel was there, shimmying my pants back up so I could stand. He took my hand and squeezed, smiled, and looked into my eyes, checking if I was still okay. I wanted to say more than okay, but I couldn’t get my vocal cords to work.
“Mmmm,” he moaned. “That was decadent. Better than peanut butter pie.”
“That could be up for debate.”
With his free hand, he play-pinched my side. “There’s the sarcastic girl we all know.”
Then he kissed me, tasting like my climax and promises of more to come. With our fingers still combined, he led me to his bedroom, Brutus’s gaze on us.
He set me on the bed and yanked his shirt off. “Still okay? Feel good?”
“I’m pretty sure I melted out there. Am I still whole?” It was so cheesy, but he seemed to like it because he was kicking off his jeans and shoes and crawling up the bed toward me.
We began to kiss again, our tongues dueling, our bodies seeking friction.
“Too many clothes,” I found the nerve to mutter.
Daniel responded, snapping off my bra, and pulling my pants and thong off for good. I thought my shirt and shoes were still in the hallway. “I want you. Maybe more than I’ve ever wanted anyone.”
I responded with, “Have me.” I could’ve told him the feeling was mutual, but I was in a hurry to feel him inside me, not share my feelings.
He reached for the nightstand and grabbed a condom. We didn’t discuss if we’d ever done this before. It was clear we both had. I was sure Daniel way more than me, but it wasn’t important in this moment.
With one hand braced on the bed, I took in his six-pack abs and hardened chest, the scruff on his jaw, before watching him slide the condom on with the other hand. The nightstand light had been on when we entered the room, and for a moment I wondered if I was that sure of a thing—if he’d set up this whole situation—but then didn’t care.
Hovering over me, he whispered, “We good?”
“We’re good.”
With that answer, he sank slowly into me.
It was the most decadent sensation I’d ever felt. It was ice cream on a hot day, and cocoa on a cold one. He moved without urgency, our bodies in unison, until I said, “More.”
He picked up the pace, his hand on my shoulder, holding me in place with the tiniest bit of pressure.
I’d never orgasmed during sex, but the feeling crept up my spine sooner than I thought it would and I was coming apart.
Daniel watched every moment of my ecstasy. I could sense his gaze burning into me, making the climax headier. He dragged out every sensation, knowing how to make the moment feel more glorious…until he went off too. I felt him quivering, his bicep shaking as my palm came up to trace it.
He was a million contradictions—strong and gentle, proper yet brazen, Scottish and formal but hip…if that made sense.
He collapsed on me, careful to hold the condom when sliding out.
“I didn’t mean to go so quick. You had me revved up.”
“Maybe I don’t have as much work later as I thought.” I was a different person with this guy. My wants felt like they mattered.
“I like that idea,” he was saying while standing. “Let me get you a cloth,” he added while tying the condom.
It wasn’t until he walked away that the knock on his door came.
I pulled the blanket around me as a steady banging continued, Brutus meeting it with deep barks.
Daniel came out from the en suite bathroom, slipped on a pair of sweats, and held a finger in the air. “Don’t move. Probably a needy neighbor. I’ll be right back.” He padded across the bedroom, partially closing the door behind him, and told Brutus, “Shhhh,” before I heard him unlatch the door.
I imagined him standing there without a shirt, a female neighbor ogling him.
That was until he said, “Dad? What are you doing here?”
Another set of feet stomped through the apartment, and I heard a deep voice tell Brutus, “Down.” His tone wasn’t kind, and I already didn’t like this man.
“Dad, what are you doing here?” I heard Daniel ask again.
“I didn’t care for your lack of concentration last week. Your eye is not on the prize, Daniel.”
“Seriously? I won.”
“Are you out your face? Have you been drinking?”
“Dad, I’m legal. I don’t even know why I’m explaining myself to you.”
I felt like a voyeur despite not seeing a thing. Here I was, naked, listening to a conversation I had no business listening to. Deciding I had to go, I slid out from the bed and tiptoed around, snatching my clothes off the floor, realizing my blouse was in the hallway. Shit. I went into the bathroom just as the two men were getting heated, luckily spying an Arizona golf shirt. I shrugged it on and decided Daniel wouldn’t miss it.
There was a lot of this is my life , no it’s not being thrown around. Daniel’s dad was louder, his tone getting edgier. He hadn’t made sacrifices, he droned on as I peed. Hurriedly I skipped flushing and yanked on my jeans, deciding to wash my hands later.
Daniel was not a person to get involved with—the way his dad spoke made mine seem easygoing.
Grabbing my belt and my purse, I squeezed through the crack in the door and wanted to sneak out without anyone noticing, but I had to snatch my shoes. And of course, that was close to impossible with Brutus jumping all over me and two sets of eyes staring at me. Well, one was glaring.
“Now I see why you’re not focusing.” That was the dad.
“She has nothing to do with this.” That came from Daniel.
“I’m just gonna go call an Uber,” was the last thing I spoke before heading out the door.