Chapter Thirteen
Chelsea
Challenge: Pick berries apples at a local farm
I woke in the night, disoriented. I pulled the cover over me tighter and breathed in the scent of Bas. I lay on my side, my back pressed into his chest, his hand flat to my stomach, and his breathing so quiet, so gentle, I didn’t want to move.
Gently, I prodded at the edges of my fears, testing that the doors were locked tight. What had Dr. Rubin said about replacing one identity with another? Was I? Or had I cracked the code? Was I finally ready for this? Was Bas the lucky recipient of all the hard work I’d done up until now? Or had he fixed me with his magic penis?
Was I New Chelsea now? Could I drop the new ? Or had I just bubble-wrapped the old me so I could live an assumed life?
I had to admit, he was becoming much more than a simple distraction. I just liked him.
He brought me food and made corny jokes. He asked questions and listened to what I had to say. Yeah, he sometimes lost his temper and argued with me, but even his anger felt safe somehow. I loved how he fought within the rules of engagement, sticking to the merits of the question, even changing his mind at times or simmering down, never trying to win at all costs.
I’d become addicted to the care he showed me, the way he made me want to trust in him.
Side benefit: he was helping me work through the list. Hell, he’d practically become the list, pushing challenges beyond my limited imagination, somehow warping my need for new-and-exciting around his constant-and-safe presence. Was I using him to check things off, like Evan had accused Elizabeth? The opposite. The list gave me plausible deniability, an excuse to keep seeing Bas when I knew this was all just a practice. If I was using him for anything, it was for the way he made me feel. I couldn’t seem to get enough, and it should have scared the hell out of me.
I rolled over to face him. He’d fallen asleep on top of the covers as if to protect my virginity. I laughed softly at the ludicrous situation I found myself in, lying in this bed with a man I hadn’t even banged the night before who was treating me like some kind of treasure. I swallowed down a flurry of emotion I couldn’t process and considered how to rectify my first mistake. He slept in a white T-shirt and boxers, and he sported morning wood. I nudged the opening to his boxers, but he didn’t protest as I drew out his cock. I stroked him until he was completely hard, and he stirred with a sigh. I slipped out from the covers and crawled between his knees, hoping he’d let me give him this.
“Chelsea,” he whispered.
“Shh.” I bent forward and ran my tongue up the shaft, loving the low moan that elicited. I loved the way his cock felt, silky-soft skin over the rock-hard erection. His mouth fell slack as I dragged my thumb over the precum and under the head. I wanted to taste him.
He croaked my name once more, but I said, “I want this,” and he watched me as I wrapped my lips around him. I used my tongue to drive him insane, and his fingers clenched the sheets. He said my name again, but this time it sounded like begging.
He touched the top of my head and rasped, “Come here.”
“Condom.”
He fumbled in the side drawer and handed one to me. Thank God. I rolled it on, then climbed up him. I was still dressed in the same clothes from yesterday, but I’d worn a skirt, so I slid my panties to the side, lowered myself onto him, and rode him, my hands clutching his T-shirt, his under my skirt, palming my ass. We’d never fucked fully dressed like this, with the sex completely out of view. I had nowhere to look but at his face, and it tripped something in me, like a chemical reaction. I could see it in his eyes, the way he looked at me.
It was too much, so I bent forward and caught his mouth with mine, and he kissed me like that first night, so desperate, so messy. He said words in Greek I didn’t understand, different than before, and I wondered dimly why he’d switched languages. What did he need to say he didn’t want me to hear?
My whole body shook as the orgasm built and crested, but I kept rocking, kept letting him thrust in me because I didn’t think I could bear to lose the connection.
It wasn’t long, though, until his breath sped up and froze for a heartbeat, like he did at the moment of his climax. I’d never known another person’s body like I knew his, but it was just sex. Really good sex.
I laid my head on his chest and fell back asleep like this. He must have gotten up to take care of the aftermath, but I didn’t know anything until morning, when I smelled coffee. As soon as I sat up, Bas settled a mug into my hands like magic.
“Did you sleep well?”
He treated me like a princess.
I twisted my head around to find him in the same white T-shirt and boxers. I took a sip of the coffee and sank into the pillow to appreciate the perfection of the brew. How did he do it? I made coffee for a partial living, but that all seemed like a rough, burned approximation of coffee. Bas had unlocked the secret of how to make it taste as good as it smelled. I moaned, and Bas shot me a glance.
My stomach growled, so I got up and followed Bas to the kitchen, rubbing the sleep out of my eyes with my knuckle. “What’s the deal with breakfast?”
He nodded at Evan, poised on a stool, forehead resting against an open palm, and said pointedly, “Houston, we have a problem.”
I nudged Evan. “Hey, Romeo. What do you have planned today?”
Evan lifted his head enough to glare at me. “This was your fault.”
Oh, no, he was not going to blame me for his problems. “Excuse me if I managed to help you meet a girl you are clearly wild about. If you want to blow that, I won’t sit here and let you keep me from breakfast.”
Bas leaned against the counter behind him, arms crossed, looking amused. Amused and hot.
Instead of berating Evan, I had another idea. It wasn’t nice, but it would be effective. I grabbed my cell phone and called Elizabeth. “You’ve got to work things out with Evan.”
“Good morning, Chelsea.”
I eyed Evan, but he only shook his head at me, as if I was going to hand him the phone.
I cringed a little at myself as I continued, but I was really hungry. “He’s sitting in Basil’s kitchen. He mentioned you wanted to go hiking.” Now Evan straightened, clearly interested despite himself.
Elizabeth’s voice jumped an octave. “I want to do what?”
“Go hiking. Today. Will you talk to him?” Evan jumped off his stool and retreated to the den, eyes glued to my phone the entire way, like it might bite.
Elizabeth asked, “Uh. Does he want to talk to me?” at the same time Evan yelled, “I don’t want to talk to her!” from the next room.
Elizabeth’s volume had returned to a normal calm. “Doesn’t sound like he wants to talk to me.”
“Well, you say something, and I’ll repeat it.”
“What?” She wouldn’t play.
I said, “She says she wants to talk to you.”
Elizabeth shouted, “No, I did not!” She paused. “What’s he saying?”
“He’s thinking it over.”
Bas laughed behind his fist. Evan stormed into the kitchen, jacket in hand. “I’m not going anywhere with her.”
I shrugged. “How about Crabtree Falls?”
“Chelsea!” Poor Elizabeth was at my mercy, but a second after her angry outburst, she asked, “What’s he doing now?” with the breathless anticipation of a third-party gossip.
Evan stopped dead. “She hates hiking.”
“He says you hate hiking.”
“I heard him. And I do. What are you doing?”
“Trust me,” I told her, and faced Evan. “Clock’s ticking.”
Bas chuckled. “Better get a move on. It’s an hour away.”
“What makes you think I’m going?” he huffed.
“Meet me at my place.” I disconnected the call, then spun on Evan. “Are you stupid?”
“What the hell?” He squared his shoulders and raised his chin, nostrils flaring. Please. Like he could intimidate me with his spiky hair and unnaturally white teeth.
“Don’t you get it? That list isn’t about you. It’s about me and my fucked-up stunted emotions. My therapist suggested it.” I risked a glance at Bas, wishing he wasn’t hearing this, but fuck Evan. “Everything on our list was intended to challenge us to be our true selves and find adventure here and now. She never would have spoken to you if I hadn’t dared her.”
He pointed a finger at me. “See? It was all about meeting guys.”
I counted to five, but it didn’t help. “No, you ding-dong. It’s about personal growth. You might have noticed that Elizabeth is a smart, confident, beautiful woman, but she’s more at home three stories belowground with stacks of books that smell like the dead men who wrote them than she is at a wine tasting. She hates meeting guys at bars, and when I make her come out, the only reason she doesn’t go home with a different guy every night is because she’s heard every pickup line ever invented from the inebriated leches who come on to her. For some reason, she’s looking for something more long-lasting than a casual hookup. Before you, the closest thing she’d had to a date in months was with the retired eighty-year-old professor she has a standing lunch with. So yeah, I push her to break the ice because if it were left to her, I’d be her only friend. You should thank your lucky stars she deigned to choose you to approach that night.”
Evan’s jaw hung slack, but he shook himself and said, “I’ll take a shower.”
Bas laughed, thank God. “Are you sure you’re not Greek?”
Relieved he hadn’t zeroed in on my soul-baring TMI, I tossed my hair saucily. “You never know.”
“You sounded exactly like my sisters when their husbands do something boneheaded.”
That made me smile. He must have been rubbing off on me. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”
While I gathered my things, Bas rooted through the cupboards, and I stopped to watch him, so sexy in his underwear. Damn , he was fun to look at . Fun to watch cooking, fun to watch doing anything . I ran my eyes down his crisp T-shirt and boxer shorts, down his dark, lean legs. My imagination led me to decadent places. Those boxers at his knees. Me on mine. I pictured myself dragging a tongue up his calf, drinking him in until he met my gaze. His head tilted, and one eyebrow rose.
Busted.
He licked his lower lip, and an all-out fantasy hijacked my brain. I shook away a memory of him banging me on that counter while I sucked on those lips. Before I started drooling, I fished my keys out of my purse and said, “I’m gonna run home and get a shower, too. I’ll bring Elizabeth back. Don’t let that knucklehead leave.”
He handed me something wrapped in wax paper and said, “To tide you over.”
I peeled back the wrapper to find a gooey little oat bar of some kind. “Is this a granola bar?”
“Unlike Elizabeth, I hike a lot.”
“You made this?” Sometimes I thought Bas was too good to be real. It was like he was tailor-made in a lab.
“It’s not that hard.”
If Elizabeth had been there, she wouldn’t have been able to resist an inappropriate that’s what she said.
I nibbled the corner, trying to identify everything in it. I got as far as almonds, chocolate, and… “Are these cherries?”
“Yeah.”
“What did you sweeten it with?”
He shrugged. “Just some condensed milk.”
I popped in the last bite. “It’s fucking delicious. Do you have another?”
He reached below the cabinet and produced a plastic container with rectangles lined up as neat as a row of dominoes. “These have coconut.”
“Holy fuck, Bas. I’m going to have to go hiking with you one day.”
A blush crept up the side of his cheek, and I wasn’t sure if he was soaking in the praise or just plotting another way to spend time with me, but it made my heart cramp. I snagged two of the bars and headed for the door before the flush blooming across my own face gave me away.
After inhaling the two amazing candy bars Bas pretended were healthy, I rushed home to get a shower and fetch Elizabeth. My hunger subsided along with the immediate need to get Evan to run off with my best friend so I could get a more substantial breakfast. I kicked myself for how I’d selfishly manipulated the situation for my own benefit without taking Elizabeth’s welfare into account. Evan didn’t really deserve the rescue mission I was performing on his behalf. I had half a mind to grab Elizabeth and take her to the movies. Let Evan experience consequences.
As I was toweling off, my front door rattled, and I hurried to let Elizabeth in. She barreled past me, talking before I’d even said hello. “I don’t think this is a good idea.”
Oh, thank God. “You’re exactly right. You can do so much better.”
She made a face like she’d smelled spoiled milk. “What are you talking about?”
“Evan.” I balanced on one foot while putting the other through a pair of yoga pants.
“I was talking about hiking. Wait.” She stepped back. “What’s your problem with Evan?”
“The fact he’s acting like you’re some kind of psycho whore.”
“And that’s exactly why I don’t think hiking is a good idea.”
“I’m agreeing with you. I’ve had qualms about him since he ghosted you.”
She stopped dead. “You what?”
“It was a dick move.”
She shook her head. “He explained why he didn’t call. And besides, we’d only known each other for one night. It wasn’t like I was his girlfriend. He didn’t owe me anything.”
“I can’t believe you’re making excuses for him. He’s sitting over at Basil’s playing the victim.” I rummaged in my drawer for a sweatshirt.
“Once again, that’s why I don’t think you should force him into a car with me for an hour as if nothing’s wrong. He needs time to process his emotions. I think I should give him some space.”
“Right. Give him so much space he floats away. You deserve more than a guy who treats you like that.”
“Oh, Chelsea. Seriously?” She sat on the edge of my bed. “Surely, you and Bas have had some disagreements?”
We hadn’t. “Not really. I’ve nagged at him, but he’s never kicked a coffee table out of anger.”
If he had, we wouldn’t be talking about him anymore.
She flicked her eyes to the ceiling. “I’m not going to dump him the first time he overreacts.”
I hated that it was her life, and I couldn’t tell her what to do. It reminded me too much of my mom putting up with some guy’s bullshit for too long. “You’re not going to just give him a pass, I hope.”
“There is such a thing as a middle ground. I’m not a doormat, Chelsea. I’ll kick him to the curb before I let him walk all over me.”
I heaved in a deep breath. To me, he’d already proved himself unworthy, but that was probably why I never had a boyfriend.
We left my house together, and as we pulled into the driveway, Bas and Evan came out to meet us, complete with a backpack presumably loaded with weird and interesting hiking snacks, Elizabeth emerged from the car and did in fact announce, “Crabtree Falls is too far away.”
Evan’s dour expression almost made my entire day. I nearly pointed at him and shouted, “ In your face, Spurlock. ”
But Elizabeth added, “Carter Mountain is much closer. Let’s go get some apple cider doughnuts, then take a leisurely hike up to Monticello. Evan, have you been there since they installed the wooden paths? It’s lovely.”
Fuck, that was well-played. She’d give Evan the hike, but it wouldn’t cost her much. That hike was a cake walk. Or a doughnut walk, in this case. We turned toward Evan to see if he’d bite.
He sucked on his teeth, slouched against the brick wall like he was just loitering and not the central player in this drama.
I leaned against Basil’s car and heckled him. “You weren’t kidding about that cold front, weatherman.”
Evan scanned the sky for a second before he caught the double meaning and rolled his eyes.
Bas took up a position next to Evan and winked at me. “You sure about that? I’m detecting a lot of hot air.”
He’d changed into a navy commando sweater, the kind with shoulder patches, and it should have made him look like a British naval officer, but somehow Bas in a sweater conjured visions of hot cocoa and roaring fires, our feet peeking out the edge of a throw blanket.
I shook my head to chase away the image and volleyed back to Bas. “So much atmospheric tension.”
Evan peeled himself from the wall and approached Elizabeth. Bas teased, “Oh, look, the barometric pressure is dropping.”
“Stop,” Evan said, laughing despite himself.
“Oh, he speaks,” I said.
Elizabeth stepped closer to him, not laughing. “Is everything okay?”
He sighed and took her hand. “Yeah. I’m embarrassed by my reaction. And sorry.”
I stood there gobsmacked by his reversal. I’d never had Evan calming the fuck down on my Bingo card. Maybe Elizabeth’s forbearance wasn’t as naive as I’d presumed. Was her faith in him the result of growing up with loving parents who modeled nonviolent communication? It was certainly relationship goals, if I ever had the folly to plunge into a real one.
Elizabeth smiled with a short nod. “Come on. We can talk while we hike. Bas and Chelsea will come, too.” She glanced at me. “Right?”
“Nooo.” My role here was done. I’d stick around long enough for Bas to feed me waffles or beignets or eggs Benedict or whatever he had in mind, but then I needed to spend my day alone. Away from his lopsided smiles and gravity-defying hair. For both our sakes.
Or we could stay here in his bed all day.
But Elizabeth roped me in with a lasso. “Picking fruit is on the list.”
Dammit. That wasn’t fair.
It wasn’t worth having my poison pen missive mailed to my dad. Maybe one day I’d want to send that letter, make my dad deal with some consequences, but right now, I wanted him to forget I existed.
“My breakfast. My delicious breakfast,” I whined. I could feel it blipping out of my grasp.
Bas laid a hand on my forearm and whispered, “Hot apple cider doughnuts.”
His voice was so incredibly sexy. I pretended the moan escaping my throat was over the thought of cinnamon-dusted dough melting in my mouth. Okay, the second groan was over the thought of the food.
“Fine.” I shot him a challenging look. “But we are not actually picking apples. I draw the line.”
He pursed his lips. “You don’t want to try my apple pie?”
Shit. “I do. I very much do.”
Evan and Elizabeth climbed into the backseat of Basil’s car, both looking significantly less glum than before. I followed suit, claiming the passenger seat and the role of secondary character in my friend’s romantic adventure.
When we arrived in the parking lot of the apple orchard, a breeze threw my hair across my face and raised goose bumps. It felt great to stretch my legs and forget about all the crap I normally dealt with at my two jobs: steaming milk, taking orders, negotiating with my graphic design clients, scratching to stay afloat.
Bas and I gave Evan and Elizabeth some space to talk and approached the overlook, Charlottesville spread out below, the Blue Ridge Mountains beyond. Home. The trees had recently lost their color, and leaves fell like rain all over the already blanketed ground.
“Stunning,” I said.
“Yes,” Bas said into my ear, and a shiver wound its way to the base of my spine.
We headed up to the market. Evan and Bas stood in line for the doughnuts and coffee while Elizabeth stared at a pumpkin display.
She smiled up at the sky, closing her eyes as the sun bathed her face. “My dad would’ve called this a quintessential fall football Saturday .”
I could almost hear his baritone voice as she imitated him.
“My dad would’ve called this a good excuse to get drunk.”
Elizabeth shoved my shoulder with hers. She knew it was gallows humor. “Thanks for coming up here. It puts way less pressure on us.”
I elbowed her. “So you’re going to fix him?”
“He has a therapist for that. I’m gonna stick around and see where this goes.”
“Did he at least grovel?”
“It wasn’t really that he’d been jealous of any guys I might have dated. Turns out he was jealous of you. Of the experiences we have, the fun we have. I promised him we’d make our own list if he wanted.”
My own ugly jealousy ticked my lips into a frown. Was I losing my best friend to a guy?
“That’s kind of sweet, actually.”
“I thought you’d like that.” She leaned in to me. “You know what he added to our list?”
“Murder Chelsea?”
She laughed. “No. He doesn’t want to murder you. That’s the kind of thing you put.”
“Does he want to quietly get me out of the way? Have me disappeared?”
“No. He put Go on a hayride. ”
I rolled my eyes. “At an apple orchard where you can do that very thing? He’s not above cheating, huh?”
The guys arrived bearing food and drink, and we gorged ourselves on sugar and caffeine in relative silence at a picnic table, taking in the incredible view.
Bas said, apropos of nothing, “My uncle lives in a place named Panorama in Greece. Not the Panorama. It’s a suburb of Voula.”
I shot him a quizzical look, trying to parse a pun out of that. “Huh?”
He stretched out his hand at the distant mountain range, at the city below, and his meaning clicked. “Panorama. It’s a Greek word.”
Elizabeth screwed up her mouth. “I wonder which came first: the town or the word. Does it have views like this?”
“I wouldn’t know. I’ve never been.” Bas seemed to be lost in thought.
I poked him. “You ought to have your own list. You could put Go to Greece at the top. Make your parents happy.”
His eyes refocused on me, still troubled. “I probably will. Sooner or later.”
“You know what we should add to our list?” Evan asked.
“You can’t put apple cider doughnuts.” I was willing to be civil with Evan for Elizabeth, but I was still salty after last night and wasn’t above giving him a little hell.
He didn’t take the bait. “What about sailing?”
“Sailing?” Elizabeth’s eyes lit up. She loved the water, which was why she’d managed to get me to spend so many vacations on beaches. “That would be fun.”
“My parents own a boat, over near Annapolis. We could go out some weekend when it’s warmer.”
Elizabeth physically melted. He was talking about the future. Only as far out as spring, but that meant he was thinking seriously about her for the time being. “Yeah. I’d love that.”
“What would you add if we had a list together?” Bas asked me.
“Cook me an entire Thanksgiving dinner?”
He laughed. “I’d love to cook you Thanksgiving dinner. This Thursday?” His eyes shone way too brightly over a chore I was more than willing to cede. “Oh, but you’re probably going home to be with your mom.”
“No. Not this year.”
“You could come home with me.” His eyebrows rose, and I felt the lock break on the door I’d been keeping my fears behind. My face must have shown my shock. He laughed. “Or maybe not yet. I do have some ideas I’d love to try, and my mom would never let me near the stove.”
I couldn’t ask Bas to give up his holiday, but the idea of spending the day alone depressed me. “Won’t your parents send the police to find you?”
“Nope.” His pinched expression didn’t make him sound convincing, but he pressed on. “I have an idea for smoked squab.”
I salivated like Pavlov’s dog. “What about you guys? Could you both make it?”
Evan said, “I’d love to. I have to work Friday, so I’m stuck in town anyway.”
“It sounds fun. I’m in.” Elizabeth’s expression turned thoughtful. “But why aren’t you going home, Chelsea? You usually do.”
“I think my mom has a new boyfriend. She canceled on me.” I hadn’t spoken to my mom in a week, but she hadn’t changed her mind about wanting me there.
Elizabeth grimaced. She wasn’t the biggest fan of my mother. “Jesus. I’m sorry.”
Evan stood and gathered his trash. “Come on. We’ve got a hayride to cross off our list.”
“Your list of two items?” I joked.
Elizabeth shot me a warning glance. “We’re working on it.”
While they walked off hand in hand, Bas used his promise of hot apple turnovers to lure me toward the orchard where we procured a couple of baskets. Apples hung low enough that a child could pick them, which was why so many families were out on this chilly day.
Bas dropped a couple of apples in his basket while I admired how his sweater clung to his back, revealing his strong neck and shoulders, the way the fabric over his ass alternated between snug and loose whenever he reached toward a higher bough.
I stared into the trees, pretending to give a shit about the quality of the fruit. He stalked closer, snagging a red apple from a bough just over my shoulder, sliding behind me, taking for granted that I wouldn’t mind it when his arms caged me, when his lips brushed the nape of my neck. Public displays of affection were another first for me, and this was a custom-made setting for romantic gestures.
Here I was, being romantic.
I almost understood all the hype: the love songs, the Valentine’s Day hearts, the moon and the stars. It just felt good to let myself like someone. To have someone care about me. I could forget about my worries and lean back into the cocoon of his arms, warm, safe. When had he become so comfortable? Was I being brave or setting myself up for a fall?
“Look at us,” he said against my ear. “Who would have bet money you and I would still be seeing each other after all these many weeks?”
I knew it for a joke, but he was right. I’d never found myself in a situation where I’d rely on a guy to keep me company all the time, even if it hadn’t been very long. I turned in his arms to face him. “What is this? The apple anniversary?”
“What do you call two apples next to each other?” he asked.
“A peeling?” I guessed.
He grinned. “Nope. A pear.”
My eyes shuttered, but then he kissed me, and I said, “What am I going to do with you?”