No answer. I put my ear to the door and listen but can’t hear anything inside except the faint hum of his fridge.
It’s completely silly to take that as a sign of rejection but somehow I do. I plod back to my apartment and decide to busy myself to take my mind off of things. Because Ava is bored and a light rain has started outside, which is something of a relief in a city that always seems to hold it in, I try and make assembling an IKEA couch sound like an exciting adventure.
She falls for it. She always does. We open the boxes and then get to work. It’s only when I see the two drawn figures in the instructions saying this is a two-person job that I wish again that Bram was home. But still, I do what I can, even the instructions have me completely confused and things would be so much easier with an electric drill.
Eventually I tire out and give up. So does Ava. We retire to my room and the both of us pass out on my bed. She always loves it when I have naptime with her and I can’t remember the last time I treated myself to such a luxury. Sometimes it’s the easiest, most simple things in life that bring you the most joy. The good, pure kind of joy that just makes you feel human and proud of it.
I must have only been asleep for about fifteen minutes when I hear a knock on the door break through the fog. I get up without waking Ava and close the door behind me as I go across the apartment.
Even though I’m tired, my heart is lodged at the top of my chest, ready to pop like champagne. Am I actually giddy from just opening a damn door?
But yes. I am. Bram is in the hallway, his lips pursed in concern.
“How are you doing?” he asks, looking me over. “You look like shit.”
“Always the charmer,” I say dryly, even though my heart is beating fast and I can’t help the smile on my lips.
He shrugs casually. “You told me you liked it when I’m a jerk.”
“I say a lot of things,” I tell him. “That’s the first thing you should know about me.”
“Oh, I already know a lot of things,” he says. “After all, I was here last night going through your photo albums, just like I said I would. Is it strange that I think we would have been boyfriend and girlfriend in high school? I saw you with your hair short and purple, with a Lovage t-shirt. Girl after my own heart.” He looks over my shoulder at the apartment. “So, are you going to let me in or what?”
I step aside and gesture for him. “Come on in. You can see over there the attempt at putting together one of the couches. I’m pretty much an epic fail today. A hangover and no cordless drill make Nicola a dull girl.”
He raises a finger in the air. “Just one moment.” And then he’s turning around and heading out the door into his apartment. I watch his high, firm ass as he goes. He’s dressed in a suit again, which makes me think he’s been doing important things all day.
When he comes back in he’s holding a toolkit.
“Well, aren’t you a handyman,” I tell him, as he opens it and starts taking out tools and placing them on the ground.
“I’m more than just a pretty face, I can tell you that much,” he says with a wink and soon he produces a cordless drill. He revs it a few times and I’m glad I closed the door to the bedroom so Ava can keep on sleeping. Even so, it’s not that loud.
But it’s definitely hot. Bram takes off his grey suit jacket and throws it on the couch, then rolls up the sleeves of his black dress shirt, showing off those gorgeous forearms again and gets to work. If watching Bram jerk off was the hottest thing I’d ever witnessed, then watching him be all take charge and manly man with the tools is the second hottest thing. I guess it says I’m a pretty basic bitch to find that attractive but hell I’ll own up to it.
“So,” Bram says while I try and hold together one part of the frame while he connects another. “What do you remember about last night?”
I groan, not wanting to relive this. “Everything. At least the last half of the night.”
“You said you made out with some Giants fan. Almost had sex with him.”
I swallow uneasily and glance at him. His face is almost as neutral as his tone, though I can see this dark intensity in his eyes that betrays him.
“Almost,” I remind him.
“Are you sure you didn’t earlier and you just don’t remember?”
“Oh, come on,” I hiss and then lower my voice. “No, I didn’t. I didn’t blackout, blackout. Things just got fuzzy.” I inhale deeply. “Hey, look, I’m sorry I came home such a wreck and I’m sorry you had to take care of me.”
“I wanted to,” he says simply and puts the drill on pause and stares right at me, his arms resting on the frame. “I wanted to make sure you were okay.”
“Well.” I look away, embarrassed. “Thank you for that. But I’m sorry you had to see me in such a state. I went looking for you today and when you weren’t home, I figured maybe you were keeping your distance because you thought I was such a wreck.”
He slowly shakes his head, an awed smile spreading across his face. “Are you kidding? That’s what you thought. Sweetheart, first of all, I have some stories to share with you. Only I won’t, because then you’ll probably want to keep your distance from me. And I can’t have any more of that, you already hold me at arm’s length. Second of all, Nicola…as much as you hate how you were last night, as much as you’re paying for it now, you were real. You were wild. Maybe you got a little carried away and in the wrong direction, I mean that could have been my tongue wrapped around yours. But you were true and honest and I’m glad you told me everything you did. Now I know why you have such a giant stick shoved up your arse. Babe, there are better things to stick up there.”
So many things to ponder, I don’t even know where to begin. I guess the main thing is he doesn’t think any less of me, even if I do. The other things are the mention of his tongue wrapped around mine and the idea of him sticking anything up my ass. Both of those flood my head and body with a crazy kind of yearning.
I push it aside.
“Then we’re cool?” I say slowly.
“We’re cool,” he says and he stares down at his hands for a moment. “And for future reference, you don’t need to pound back the shots or whatever you gals drank, in order to feel wild and free. Believe me, I know this. I lost many years of my life never remembering the nights, all in an attempt to escape, to forget, to be something else. It never amounted to anything except guilt and regret, the very things I was trying to escape. It just doesn’t work that way. Whatever you hope to drown, the booze only feeds it, makes it stronger. It has gills you see. Not to say I don’t have my fun, but there’s a line and I left it in New York City. I hope you learn to leave your line at last night.”
I nod, impressed by this wise version of Bram. I never thought he’d regretted his party life on the east coast, I thought he had to give all of that up on account of his parents or something like that. I didn’t think it was a conscious choice, nor one that he was glad to make.
“Is that why you moved out here?” I ask him. “To put it all behind you.”
“One of the reasons. I just wanted to start over, really. And when Linden was hurt, I thought I might as well be close to the only person on earth I’m actually close to.” He laughs to himself. “The funny thing is, Linden and I aren’t even that close. But compared to my parents, he’s the one who has been there through it all.”
“I thought you were close with your parents and Linden was the one who wasn’t?”
“Nah,” he says with a shake of his head. “As you know, my father was a diplomat and my mother was all high society. What they really wanted was for me to follow in his footsteps. Not even make a name for myself in something else, but follow in his footsteps exactly. Any other achievement was ignored, maybe even looked down upon. At least, that’s the impression he gave off…actually, still gives off. You’d think that maybe owning this building and investing my money would have brought him some kind of pride for his son, but no.”