Page 44 of Watching Ames

“My first meeting ended early, and my second had to reschedule, so I’m free the rest of the day,” answering the question reflected in my eyes as he walked toward me. He stopped inches from me, dropping a kiss on the top of my head as he set an iced coffee on my desk, the familiar cinnamon scent of our usual order mixing with the woody scent of his aftershave lotion. I had watched him apply it this morning, smoothing it onto his skin as he emerged from the bathroom while I braided my hair in the mirror I bought for the bedroom.

While I sipped my coffee, Alex stepped right back into the routine of setting up my stations, as if it hadn’t been weeks since he took my class. The week felt like a distant memory now, back when I knew so little about Alex and his world. So when the class finally started and I caught Alex settling into an extra station he’d sneakily set up while I wasn’t looking, I couldn’t help the smile that spread across my face.

It was a throwback to our early days, Alex rolling up the sleeves of his dress shirt, suit jacket and tie thrown over the back of an extra chair. June was even more delighted at the sight when she walked in just before class started, catching Alex taking advantage of her open-access pass. I looked over my work schedule for the next week while the two of them chatted in quiet whispers, June’s jewelry clinking as she gestured excitedly at whatever they were discussing.

Alex caught my eye as they spoke, my eyes narrowing in suspicion at how easily they spoke to one another. As far as I knew, they hadn’t exchanged more than passing greetings since Alex’s week-long intensive class. But the way they interacted now hinted at more familiarity than I expected, and I wouldn’t put it past Alex to have befriended June as part of a scheme. He had only recently confessed to having a running tab atIronwoodthe other day, shamelessly admitting that he bribed Adam and Delon into refusing any payment I offered with a security upgrade. Though, based on the looks the two gave Alex and me when we were together, they likely would’ve done it for free.

Alex simply winked at my suspicious look, turning back to June as the first few students entered the classroom, drawing my attention away from the two of them. By the time I turned back around, Alex was alone, lounging on his stool with my apron wrapped around his torso.

The material ended at the tops of his thighs, leaving the majority of his clothes exposed to the clay I knew would cover his hands in a few short minutes. A few of my students - who had been coming to the weekly class for a handful of weeks now and didn’t recognize the newcomer - flicked their eyes between Alex’s suit-covered form and my face, waiting for some kind of admonishment or warning from me.

I thought back to weeks ago, when the idea of ruining Alex’s suit sent me spiraling into a panic attack. Not even an ounce of me was concerned about that now, and Alex read the intention in my eyes as I picked up a wet ball of clay to set at my station. Glancing down at my dirtied palm, I made my way toward the back of the classroom, Alex’s eyes daring me. So I stepped up next to him, spinning to face the class and waiting until their eyes turned in my direction.

“Hello, class.” I waited for the murmured greetings before continuing, “I know you all know each other by now, and surely have recognized a new face in class today. I wanted to introduce my friend, Alex.” With his introduction, I inched closer to Alex, resting my wet palm on his upper thigh. The muscle tensed under my grip, and I ignored the shocked whispers of my students as they realized what I just did to Alex’s pants.

“He took our week-long intensive earlier this summer and wanted to sit in today to get a feel for what our weekly classes are like. I hope you’ll all make him feel included during our class today.”

At the end of my speech, I gestured for my students to return to their clay. After their eyes were back on their own projects, I lifted my hand to reveal the perfect clay imprint of my handprint on Alex’s slacks. Alex let out a quiet growl at my marking of him, the sound making me squeeze my thighs together, but I refused to make eye contact until I was back at the front of the room. And when I did, Alex was grinning, the sight so perfect I couldn’t imagine not spending the rest of my life earning those rare smiles from him.

The rest of the class went by without fanfare, the remaining students realizing that Alex and I truly were friends messing around with the clay handprint incident. We cleaned up after class ended, then picked up lunch next door, where the late-night construction had finally finished. After lunch, Alex drove us back to his house, fidgeting in his seat for the first half of the drive, until he finally pulled my hand across the console to rest on his thigh. The contact stilled his movements, and he pulled at each of my fingers until they matched the dried handprint on his thigh, grunting when the splay of my fingers was to his satisfaction.

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re kind of possessive?” I joked, thinking back to the look in his eyes when I marked him earlier and now, with my palm resting in a loose grip on his thigh.

“I’ve never been possessive of anyone or anything until you.”

His words caught me off guard, no hesitation in his voice as he spoke them, just plain truth. It was strange, imagining being special enough to change someone’s instincts. To make them so gone for you that they stalked you, bought you houses and cars, got turned on by the simple act of your handprint marking their body. It sent unbridled pleasure throughout me, the idea of making Alex crazy for me, in a way that he’d never been before. And I wasn’t sure what that said about me, liking that I made him this way, but I didn’t care.

The rest of the day passed by slowly, one of those lazy summer days that seemed to drag on forever in the best of ways. The garden had already made gains in the days since it’d been planted, the tomatoes and peppers benefitting from the hot temperatures. I spent an hour or so pulling weeds and watering the burgeoning seedlings while Alex worked in the off-limits shed. After he came out, he obliged my proud tour of all the plants, taking stock of the new leaves on each plant and the small buds, pursing his lips to hide his laughter at my excitement.

We spent the rest of the afternoon on the patio, me sprawled out on a lounger reading a book while Alex worked on his laptop, fingers tapping away at the keyboard while I turned page after page. The time passed by quickly, my stomach rumbling as I reached the halfway mark in my book, and Alex shut his computer in response, urging me inside.

“Let’s get you fed.”

It was one of the few nights without any visitors, so we settled on salads to avoid having to turn on the stove, Alex pulling out some leftover vegetables and meat from the other night to bulk up the greens. We prepped dinner side by side, then sat at the counter to eat, the meal punctuated by comfortable silence as the sun set outside.

Alex wiped the countertops while I washed dishes, dancing along with the music playing over the speakers. My phone rang as I rinsed the bowls from the set I made, setting them down on the drying rack as I answered the phone.

“Hello?”

“Hello, is this Ames?”

“Yes, it is.”

I met Alex’s eyes, smiling as I waited for a response on the other end of the line. He gave me a half smile back, and I only spread my lips wider, trying to prompt him to do the same without success. I was getting too greedy with his smiles, but the memory of his grin at the studio made me hold mine a little longer, just in case. I threw a piece of lettuce in his direction in protest against his stingy smiles, and he let out a laugh as he caught it in his mouth.

“Hey, this is Chris, the landlord. Just wanted to let you know I got to the apartment and the locks are officially changed. You can stop by the front office whenever you get the chance and pick up the new keys.”

His words froze me in place, the subconscious swaying of my hips to the music stuttering to a stop when I realized my vacation here had come to an end. The smile faded from my lips, and before I broke eye contact I watched Alex mirror my frown. The landlord was saying a few more things, reminding me of my move-out date as well as the fee that would come with replacing the locks.

I walked away from the kitchen, feet carrying me up the stairs so I could get a moment to breathe, suddenly feeling like I was suffocating. In the back of my subconscious, I heard Alex’s footfalls falling behind mine, but I was busy trying to take in the words my landlord was still throwing at me through the phone.

But it was too late. My mind was already somewhere else, the stress I’d been able to successfully put off for a week rushing back to the forefront of my mind. I was no closer to finding a place to live, and only had a couple more weeks before I would be living on the streets. I was fairly certain Bex was living in a motel, so I couldn’t move in with her, and I refused to be any more of a burden on June, who already gave me a job.

Most of all, my mind didn’t want to accept that I wouldn't be living here anymore. In this house that had so quickly begun to feel like a home. The only truehomeI’d lived in as an adult, where everyone I’d come to care for so fiercely gathered. Where I shared a bed every night with the only man who had made me feel safe since my parents died.

My eyes ran over the familiar space, trying to commit it all to memory before I left. While I knew I could come back and visit, like Dev and Wren always did, it somehow didn’t feel the same. It wouldn’t be my house anymore, not when I was living and sleeping somewhere else, and I felt the same sense of loss that I did when we sold our childhood home, knowing that I’d never again sleep in a place that had given me such comfort.

So instead of focusing on that, I brought up the anger and betrayal that had protected my heart from Alex for so long. I remembered how Alex had lied to me, stalked me, and sent me gifts while acting like a stranger. How he had been hired by my ex and his dad to make sure I wasn’t some gold-digger. That the house I was so in love with had been bought as a courting present, sprung on me in an attempt to win me away from my boyfriend.

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