Jewel Ann - Idle Bloom

I’m not naive enough to think that he has been waiting in patient celibacy for me to succumb to his advances. In fact, I can’t imagine him going a single night without some gullible girl’s naked body wrapped around his. Not that I too don’t find him physically appealing, but I’ve resigned myself to believe that all my orgasms will be self-induced. Chance is eye candy, another visual for my private moments. Click. Click. Click.

“Hate to disappoint you, I know how much you look forward to our sexy banter, but my brother is working with me now so you’ll need to use a little more discretion with your advances,” Chance says as he leans against the back of his truck with his arms folded over his chest.

Uncontrolled laughter erupts from my chest but halts in my throat, nearly choking me, as the other door to the truck opens and a very tall guy steps out with a chocolate stain stamped in the middle of his gray T-shirt.

Kill. Me. Now!

“Viv, this is my brother Oliver. Don’t mind his shirt. Some chick on the subway rammed into him with her doughnut.”

My eyes are so wide I think they’re locked in this position. “That uh, really sucks. She must have felt awful.”

“Yeah, what did you say?” Chance looks at Oliver. “That she scurried off at the next stop with her tail between her legs?” Chance laughs.

Oliver grimaces, glancing at me. “I don’t think that’s exactly what I said.”

“Yeah, bro, it was. You also said––”

“I’m sure she gets the point!”

I nod and cross my arms over my chest. “Oliver’s right. I get it. I can totally imagine it. But I’m sure she didn’t run off with her tail between her legs. It was probably just her stop.” I give Oliver a tightlipped grin and offer my hand. “Anyway, Vivian Graham, nice to meet you.”

Oliver stares at my hand for a few moments then meets my eyes. “Nice to meet you, Vivian.” We shake hands and my grip cinches to convey my unspoken displeasure with his interpretation of what happened this morning.

“Mind if I use the restroom before we load up and head out?” Chance asks, not waiting for my response before he heads into the building.

Oliver and I divert our gazes away from each other as an awkward silence closes in on us. I glance at his shirt and an uncontrollable giggle bubbles up and out.

“What are the chances?” I laugh, shaking my head and meeting his gaze.

He grins and chuckles.

“I really am sorry. I’ll get you a new shirt.”

Wiping his hand over the dried chocolate stain, he licks his lips and smiles so big his dimples steal my attention. “Not necessary. It will probably come out and if not, I’m quite certain I have at least twenty other old T-shirts just like it.”

“Load ’em up!” Chance emerges from the building as we slip on our work gloves and start arranging the plants into the back of the truck.

When everything is loaded and secured, Chance hops in the truck, starts the engine, and rolls down the window. “Let’s go, Oliver, no need to flirt with my girl. After two years of rejecting yours truly, I’m pretty sure she’s a lesbian. And for some reason that makes my dick even harder.”

Oliver closes his eyes and shakes his head as I laugh. “Please excuse my vulgar brother. He doesn’t have a delay button between his brain and mouth.”

I wave a dismissive hand. “I’ve been putting up with him for two years. His potty mouth is the highlight of my lesbian day.”

Oliver furrows his brow with a slow nod. “All right then, I guess I’ll see you around.”

“Later, guys.” I hand the order receipt to Oliver with a wink and walk away to check on Maggie.

* * *

Oliver

“Now I know why you’re taking on so many landscaping jobs instead of sticking to mowing and home repair.” I flash Chance a knowing glance.

“She’s hot as hell, isn’t she?” He grins, pulling out of the back parking lot.

I shake my head. “It’s been two years. I think it’s safe to say she’s not interested.”

He lifts his shoulders. “She’s baiting me, slowly reeling me in.”

“She’s stamped rejection on your head so many times you have brain damage and can no longer see you make her skin crawl with your dick talking out of your mouth.”

“She’s a nice girl. We have a good thing going. Didn’t you notice how she defended the doughnut chick from this morning?”

“Shit.” I laugh and run my hands though my hair. “She is the doughnut chick from this morning, dickhead.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

I roll down my window and pull my Red Sox baseball cap on. “Vivian was the one on the subway who fell into me with her doughnut. Thanks to you, now I look like a real asshole because you had to run your mouth about the whole tail between the legs comment.”

Chance laughs. “Damn, you lucky son of a bitch! I should start taking the T. I’m probably missing out on a huge untapped population of hot women. They’re wasting their time bumping into you, the one guy who won’t ever give them the time of day.”

I sigh. “You’re right. I couldn’t care less.”

* * *

At the chance of risking what’s left of my manhood to some philosophical bullshit, I have to admit that digging in the dirt and being in the sun all day is somewhat therapeutic. I can’t help but mentally pat myself on the back for coming to that conclusion without the help of a psychiatrist. Lord knows in an effort to save one hundred and forty dollars an hour, I can ask myself how I’m feeling and why I think I’m feeling it with less resentment than I felt from those damn therapists in Portland.

We’re adding raised-bed gardens to a hotel in the Seaport district so they can use the fresh vegetables and herbs in their restaurant. Just one of a million reasons I love this town.

“Wanna go out tonight?” Chance asks while mixing the compost into the soil.

“Nope.”

“Tara is going to bring her sister. We’re going to some new Italian place by the wharf then to Mike’s for Cannoli.”

“Who’s Tara?” I sit back on my heels and wipe the sweat from my brow with the bottom of my chocolate-stained shirt.

“The girl I took to Mom’s birthday dinner.”

“Not interested.”

“Oliver, you need to get out.”

“You don’t know what I need and I told you never to mention a fucking second of my past!”

“Jeez, dude! I’m not talking about your past. I’m talking about now! Nothing more than dinner with a pretty woman. She just graduated from MIT and she’s brilliant. A nerdy scholar like yourself. It’s okay to let a nice piece of ass make your dick twitch every once in awhile. Gives your hand a break.”

“Bite me!”

“Nobody says that anymore, but whatever, your loss.”

I hate that he’s right, but I’d rather gnaw off my own arm than admit it out loud.

“Sorry, Chance, I’m just … shit, I’m just not ready. I’m not saying never, just not now.”

He pats me on the shoulder. “Don’t sweat it, Bro.”

With a deep sigh, I close my eyes and try to shake the image of the one person who does make my dick twitch. And when that fails, I decide to call it a day. It doesn’t appear that my hand will be getting a rest anytime soon.

* * *

I’ve been back for two months settling into my new life. I feel like a zombie most of the time. Food lacks taste, I see the sun but I can’t feel it touch my skin, comedy is void of humor, and the monotonous play of life in all its muted colors doesn’t catch my eye. At least that was the case until last week when I started working with my brother.

Living in Cambridge, I take the Red Line to South Station. Every morning for the past week, I’ve sat across from this long-legged woman with raven hair falling in unruly waves around her slender shoulders and down her back. Soft green eyes peek through sexy long lashes, casting a spell on me, and I’ve found myself locked in a trance watching her eat her cream filled doughnut with chocolate frosting. She makes a complete mess of it, and by the time she’s done every guy in the subway car is sporting a boner from watching her lick her full lips and suck the sticky sweetness off her long fingers one at a time like a fucking Dunkin’ Donuts porn movie.

So now the only thing I smell is a mixture of coffee and doughnuts. I can taste sweet cherry red lips that I will never kiss. It’s absurd I’m so fucking enthralled with her just the thought of the subway elicits a pathetic schmuck grin, and the vision of her lingers like a drunken haze even when I close my eyes. But most disturbing is the part of my body she awakens that I swore I’d never use again.

I’m so screwed.

Vivian

“Hey, bitches, it’s about time you showed up.” I give both Kai and Alex a big hug.

“Sorry, Flower. Sean and Kai were late.” Alex pins Kai with a gimlet-eyed stare before hugging me.

“I hate when you call her that,” Kai clenches his jaw.

“She calls us her bitches, yet you think calling her flower, like we both don’t know what’s tattooed on her back, is somehow what? Disrespectful?”

I link my pinkie to Kai’s then playfully nudge him in the shoulder. “I can think of worse things to be called.”

The scowl on Kai’s face refuses to fade. Alex thinks she knows everything about the events that led to my inked backside, but she doesn’t. Kai was there and as much as he would like to forget how that night forever changed my life, he can’t. I hope someday we can remember what we were and not what we’ve become.

“I hate that fucking tattoo,” he says.

“Well good thing it’s mine and not yours. Besides, Kate has an infinity symbol tattooed on her ankle.”

“Ah, Kai and Kate. It’s bad enough that you two look like Ken and Barbie, but seriously, hearing your names together is just too much.” Alex mock gags with her finger in her mouth.

“I don’t look like Ken.”

“Maybe not blond Ken, but you could pass for the pretty boy dark-haired doll, and Kate is definitely Barbie. I’ve never seen her in anything but heels. Are her feet permanently molded to that shape? Does she walk on her toes even when she’s barefoot?” Alex laughs.

“Suck me, Alex.”

“Afraid not, babe. Sean’s idea of a threesome is with me and Flower.”

“Timeout, you two!” I make a T with my hands. “I’m going home while you two help Maggie close up. Try to play nice.”

“I won’t be home tonight,” Alex says as I sling my bag over my shoulder.

“You never are. Tell Barbie … I mean Kate, I said hi.” I giggle, giving Kai a wink.

He scans the crowd for onlookers, then waves goodbye with his lone middle finger.

* * *

I stick in my earbuds and float away with Ed Sheeran as I take the Red Line back to Harvard Square. At South Station an all too familiar face steps through the doors. We make eye contact, sharing mirrored grins.

“You’re haunting me today,” I tug my earbuds out.

Oliver takes the seat next to me. “I could say the same about you.”

“Your obnoxious brother let you off early?”

Oliver laughs. “I didn’t ask. I pretty much decide when I’m done. What’s he going to do? Fire me?” His gaze dips, heating my skin. “So why are you going home so early?”

“Wasn’t really my day to work so I left my friends to clean up the mess and close up shop. Besides, I skipped lunch and I’m starving.”

“You think it’s because you skipped lunch? Or maybe it’s because you left half of your breakfast with me.” Oliver pulls at his chocolate-stained shirt.

“Funny guy, huh? I’m starting to feel less and less badly about this morning’s little incident.”

We both stand as the train stops at Harvard Station. “Come on.” He signals with his head as we step off. “I owe you a doughnut.”

I hesitate as commuters shuffle past us. “That’s a ridiculous comment, but I’m starving so yeah, I’ll let you buy me a doughnut.”

We navigate up the stairs and make our way out to Harvard Square. I hold up a finger and duck into the corner shop returning just a few minutes later. “Here, we’re even.” I toss him a Harvard T-shirt. “Now you can pretend you went to an Ivy League school.”

He shrugs off his shirt leaving me with a gaped-mouth stare as I look around to see if anyone else is watching. Drool-worthy, carved muscles hug his lean frame, and I can’t hide the blush that creeps up my neck as he slips on the new shirt before tossing the old one in the trash.