7. How Does This Work?
Islide my headphones to my neck, breathing out a heavy sigh now that the final voiceover edit is done. Carla, a Base member who’s starting her own engineering firm, needed my help with a video for her website. People look at me and think I want to work in a music studio and engineer albums for big stars, and I used to want that. But in school, I discovered that I liked working with non-famous people. People who had goals and dreams, and just needed a little help getting them off the ground. It’s easy to joke that everybody and their aunt has a podcast, but the democratization of media means anybody can broadcast themselves. For better or worse.
When Stuart first mentioned he wanted to do a podcast, I almost laughed. Of course he did, he always has something to say, and he has the voice for radio. A shiver runs through me at the thought of his voice pumping through my headphones. He’s not the biggest guy around but he has a deep, resonating timber that hits me right in the throat and chest. It’s like he was touched by the divine finger of Rick Astley.
I want to rub my eyes because of the long day, then I remember I refreshed my eyeliner and mascara a few minutes ago. For no particular reason, of course. I get up to grab some more water from the kitchen downstairs. I open the door to my control room and gasp. Stuart stands there with his fist raised to knock. My hand flies to my chest to try to calm my suddenly racing heart. His eyes track the movement, and his smile tips wider. Always with the smiling. I know what would wipe that off his face. Stop it, Meredith. It’s not New Year’s.
“You heading downstairs?” Stuart nods at my water tumbler that’s covered in band stickers. I nod and try to slip past him. “Cool, I’ll come with you.” I don’t have a reason to say no, so I give him a shrug. I’ve felt weird and jumpy around him ever since he intervened at the diner a few days ago.
Stuart’s yammering used to annoy me, but when he starts telling me how excited he is to start recording this evening, I melt a little. “I polished this script to within an inch of its life. But you’ll have to tell me what you think.”
“I’m sure it’ll be great. You have the perfect voice for this, and it’s interesting subject matter,” I say absently, thinking about getting the recording session set up. I take a few more steps towards the stairs and realize Stuart’s no longer next to me. “What?”
“Did you just give me a compliment?” He rocks back on his heels and hooks his thumbs in his suspenders. I school my face, trying not to encourage him with the smile that wants to break free.
“It’s not a compliment when all I’m doing is stating fact.” I continue to the kitchen, too aware of him next to me. His usual clean smell is layered under something else, something a little spicier. In front of the water dispenser, I try to puzzle out what I’m smelling. “Did you put on cologne to record this episode? You know the listeners can’t smell you, right?”
Stuart’s face takes on a blush, and he looks down at his shoes. He mumbles something I can’t catch. “What?” I step closer to him. Big mistake. Huge. Because now I’m up close and personal with his fathomless brown eyes and the little crinkly lines around them. He’s young, but he smiles so much that he already has laugh lines.
He runs a thumb over his dark auburn eyebrow. “Nothing, just...nothing.” I tilt my head and narrow my eyes, hoping it breaks him. “Okay, fine,” he huffs out. The small hairs near my ear flutter. “I reapplied deodorant. No big deal. It’s been a long day, and I didn’t want to stink up the booth.”
“But it’s not your usual smell,” I say before I can stop myself.
My eyes go wide.
His eyes go wider.
Fuck.
I wonder if snapping his suspenders will be like one of those Men In Black memory erasers. I almost reach out to try it.
He takes a small step closer. “You notice what I smell like?” His smile is this side of smarmy, and I want to wipe it off his face. Preferably with my lips. Instead, I take a sip of water and skirt around him to head back upstairs.
“The store didn’t have my usual stuff, so I picked a back-up scent. I’m glad you approve.”
“Who said I approve?”
He slaps his hand over his chest like I’ve wounded him, but the smile never leaves his face.
I’m annoyed at how Stuart doesn’t annoy me anymore.
“Let’s get started on the episode. I don’t want to be here all night.” The Base closes in an hour, but the lights on the main floor have already been dimmed because the only other person here, Tien, likes to keep the lights low when he works.
In the control room, I open the door to the small sound booth motioning for Stuart to go in. He picked up his iPad from his desk that I assume has the script on it. Grabbing the headphones that hang on a hook by the booth’s window, he places them around his neck after setting the iPad on the stand. “You can choose to stand, but most people use the stool.” I motion to the seat and wonder why I sound so robotic. “This switch adjusts the lights, and you can put your water here.” Beep boop.
Stuart nods with every instruction, paying attention like it’s the first day of a new job. His hair flops forward with every nod, and it drives me up the wall. But as soon as he puts the headphones on, no more flop, and I miss it a little.
I step out of the booth, closing the door behind me. Heading to the mini sound board I have set up, I catch movement out of the corner of my eye. Stuart waves energetically, with his whole body, like if he had a tail he’d be wagging it. “Dork.” I shake my head at him, fighting yet another smile. He turns sideways and acts like he’s walking downstairs so he disappears below the bottom of the window, then pops back up.
I throw my head back and let out the laugh I’d been fighting. His eyes go wide, and he throws his arms up in the air like he just hit a home run, and then dances around in a circle getting himself tangled in the headphone cord.
I turn away, trying to put my super serious sound engineer face back on, but if Stuart and I are going to work together, I might have to get used to all this smiling.
My heart thrashes around in my chest, and the only reason is because I made Meredith laugh. Me. Made the empress of all things audio laugh. Not just crack a little smile or smirk. Her head tipped back, and she laughed. Fuck, I wish I heard it, but I had the pleasure of seeing the blunt edges of her black bob sweep across her jaw, and some of my favorite parts of her jiggle. Worth it.
I realize I can say anything in this tiny sound booth, and she can’t hear me until she puts her own headphones on. “I think you’re beautiful,” I shout at full volume. “Your hard outer shell is not as thick as you think it is.” She sits down at her desk and does something on her laptop. She has a goose-necked lamp that bounces light off the subtle curve of her cheekbones, and I can’t look away. Just as she reaches for her headphones, I say, “I want another kiss. I want more.”
The headphones slide onto her head, and she taps something on her laptop. I jump a little when her voice comes through. “Okay, we’re going to do some sound checks and then we can get right into it. What are we recording today?”
“An introduction, mostly. My sister Greta will be my first guest, but she can’t come in until next week. I have some filler content, like stats on families and a couple of anecdotes from friends.” I tilt my head at her, not liking the window that separates us. “Do you have any siblings?”
A soft smile I’ve never seen crosses her plum lips. “Yeah, a sister who lives in San Francisco. She’s got two daughters, and I can’t wait to see what their relationship will be like.”
“You two get along?”
Meredith fiddles with the sleeve of her sweater and nods. “She’s my best friend even though she’s five years older.” My eyes go wide. “What? What’d I say?”
“I didn’t even think about the age difference between siblings. Just birth order and how it affects how siblings interact with each other.” Meredith nods at my observation. “I smell a second season.”
She laughs and the sound travels straight from my ears to my cock, and I’m grateful that my lower half is hidden from view. Everything about her is raspy and textured. Her voice, her laughs, her personality. The only soft thing about her is her body, and I ache to get lost in it. In her. But her hard edges...they spike my heart rate. I think about that sandpaper personality rubbing up against my uncomplicated self. The marks and scuffs she would leave on me.
I’d welcome every one.
We get through the first recording session with me only ruining one pair of panties. I can’t stop my thighs from clenching as Stuart’s deep as a crater voice flows through my headphones. It feels like being filled up with hot honey. It only takes a few tries to make it through the podcast’s intro. As soon as he said the words “I’m Stuart Smyth, and I’m the runt of the litter,” the warm honey feeling took over and it never left me. I did manage to keep the smile off my face though, because golden boy doesn’t need that kind of ego boost.
I laugh quietly when he describes his relationship to his five siblings, how he was picked on at home, but defended at school by his older brothers. How sometimes it felt like he had seven parents instead of two.
It’s eleven at night when we finally finish, and I’m practically shaking with a strange combination of exhaustion and exhilaration. Working with a voice like Stuart’s has my sound engineer’s brain cranking with all sorts of ideas.
The door to the booth flies open, and I almost jump out of my chair. Stuart breaks into a frenetic dance that looks like a combo of the running man and the cabbage patch. “That was so good. Holy shit, Meredith, that felt amazing.” His voice is loud, even with my headphones still on. His glasses are askew on this face, and there’s an indent in his hair from the headphones. This level of enthusiasm, coupled with my growing attraction to him, forces an awkward smile out of me.
“You did a great job. I’m looking forward to the next session.” There...not too excited, but he deserves some praise.
His dancing pauses for a second, his arms drop to his side as he stares at me. Then he breaks into another dance, and I’m afraid he’s going to throw out a hip. I can’t stop the laugh that explodes out of my chest. Stuart keeps swinging his hips, and he needs to stop. He’s too silly, too over the top, too full of...whatever he’s full of. I hop out of my chair and lay a hand on his arm, struck silent by the energy thrumming just under his sleeve when he immediately stops moving.
He looks down at my hand on his arm and goes still, his eyes widening like he feels it too. I try to snatch my hand back, but he’s faster and grabs it. Sweat breaks out in the crook of my elbows as I watch him watch me. With a thick swallow he says, “Thanks for your help, Meredith. You’re the best part of this whole thing.” Then he squeezes my hand and is out the door before I can respond.
Something’s wrong with my breathing. I can’t get my lungs to fully inflate and sweat has now spread to the backs of my knees. I flex my hand trying to keep the feeling of his skin on mine. What the fuck is wrong with me?
Outside, I can’t bring myself to get in my car just yet. I jump in place a few times trying to work the adrenaline out of my system. Every time I’m within a few feet of Meredith it’s like a shot of caffeine straight to the heart. My body buzzes with the need to touch her, like she’s a strong magnet and I’m a simple little paperclip that can’t help itself.
I do a couple of jumping jacks before I get in my car, wait for Meredith to get in hers and pull out, and head to my tiny studio apartment. As soon as I get inside, I drop my work bag by the door and head for the shower. I’m starving, but I need release more than I need food. I strip quickly, tossing my clothes in the hamper, and climb in the shower before the water’s even warmed up. The soap and my fist are a sad substitute for Meredith’s soft places, but my imagination is vivid.
The gentle slope of her pale neck. The line of earrings in her left ear. That fucking sweater she wore today. My hand moves faster, tightening when it reaches the head. When her sweater slipped off one shoulder, I almost lost my mind. In the shower, under the now-warm water, I picture myself nipping at the exposed skin of her collarbone. Tonguing the dip at the base of her throat. Sliding my hands under that sweater to get a handful of her warm, soft skin. In my vision, she moans my name as I unbutton her jeans and slide them down her curvy legs. My cock jerks in my hand, and my ragged breathing saws out of me.
Meredith telling me to get on my knees. Meredith slinging a leg over my shoulder. Meredith dripping wet for me as I tease her clit with my tongue and fingers. I come on a torn yell, painting the tile with my release.
One fucking kiss that happened weeks ago, and I’m still so tied up in knots that I can’t go one day without stroking myself to the thought of her. I crank the water back to cold for a minute in a futile attempt to calm myself down.
After toweling off and a dinner of leftover Thai food, I collapse on the couch, wincing when my tailbone hits the wood frame underneath the thin cushion. I inherited the couch from my brother Clay, who inherited it from Wesley, who I think got it from a roommate who left it behind when they moved out.
As much as I want this podcast to be a success and put a dent in my debt, I can’t help but get stuck on the process of making it. I close my eyes and let my mind drift to that small, dim studio and Meredith’s hard-earned smiles.
I might need another shower.