Rock'n Tapestries (9 page)

Tanya
Simons, a new hire at Tapestries, walked by me just then. “Lucky girl! Asher’s
a hottie!”

“It’s
not like that, Tanya.  Not anymore,” I told her.  Marybeth just smiled her
”wise witch” smile and continued to clean up.

Soon
enough it was noon. We locked the door and had a small employee Christmas party
then headed out about 2:00 p.m., each of us to celebrate in our own way.

My
mom was already home from her job at State Farm Insurance when we got to the
house.  Dad called to say he was just closing up the small machine shop we
owned and would be home soon.

Asher
and I grabbed some tape, scissors, and gift wrap and stole away up to my room,
giggling like children. I was glad to have him there.   The Whitaker family
Christmas Eve always involved take-out pizza and the opening of gifts, after
which Mom usually stuck her nose in a book and Dad fell asleep on the couch. 
Tonight I would have someone to talk to, perhaps watch a movie with.  

Asher
looked rather befuddled when I retrieved the gifts that he’d purchased from my
closet and laid them on the floor in front of him.  “I’m afraid I don’t know
the first thing about wrapping gifts.”

“Didn’t
I hear you say you wrapped your guitar last year?”

“Yes,
but no one saw it.  I did a terrible job. I don’t want your mom and dad to
think I’m an idiot.”

“They
won’t think you’re an idiot just because you can’t wrap a gift. My dad sucks at
it too, so he always hands it off to my mom.  I’ll show you how.”  I picked up
the foot massager, which was in a fairly large box.  “We’ll start with this
one.  It’ll be easy.”

We
cut, taped, laughed, and wrapped, then laughed some more.  Being his friend was
turning out to be so much easier than being his lover.  I was glad I had taken
Marybeth’s advice. In fact, everything was going better than I had dared to
hope for.  At least until I reached across to get the tape he’d dropped beside
him.

I
swear I didn’t intend for it to happen.  I was just trying to get the tape.  I
leaned across and got a whiff of him—not Paco Rabanne this time, but something
equally as heady. I turned my head just a little and caught his gaze. His lips
were a scant millimeter from mine.  We both blew out a frustrated breath at the
same time and then...

In
one smooth Asher-movement—I still don’t know how he did it—he swept across my
waist with one arm and before I knew it, I was lying flat on my back beneath
him, the full length of that long body pressing me into the carpet.

I
stared up at him for a nanosecond, not breathing, and then he dropped his mouth
over mine with a patently sexual groan.  He slanted those full lips across my
own as though he were starving, grinding hard, pushing me to answer him.  And
to my horror, I did.  Big time.

It
was the freaking Fourth of July under my skin. Every nerve ending I possessed
was singing the
Hallelujah Chorus
.  He expertly plundered my mouth with
his tongue, and all I could think was that he still tasted the same. Warm hands
slipped under my shirt, pushing my bra up and over my breasts. Somewhere I
heard a warning that I should stop him, but I went limp instead. His hands completed
a primal electric circuit within me as they brushed over nipples so eager to be
touched they practically leapt into his palms.

Godgodgod.
  How often had I thought of this? 
He still did something to me that I was sure no other man would ever be able to
do.  My arms went around his back, and I pulled him against me.  His cock was
cradled in the junction of my thighs, large and hard even through two layers of
jean material.

He
pulled his mouth from mine, breaking the kiss with a slight
pop
.  We
were both panting. I was soaking wet, ready to let him do whatever he wanted to
me.  So much for the resolve to be just friends.

“I
want you so bad,” he whispered against my mouth, those caramel eyes begging me
for more.

Reality
hit me like a ton of bricks
. Jesus Christ, Chelsea, he’s got you pinned down
on the floor of your bedroom, and your mother is just downstairs!

“We
can’t. My parents...”

“Later,
when they’re sleeping. Please.  I have a condom in my wallet...”

It
felt like someone had knocked the wind out of me with a baseball bat. 
Always
ready at the drop of a hat, aren’t you?
 I glared up at him.

“Oh,
let me put on my
surprised
face,”  I hissed as I bared my teeth at him.
“Get off of me! I’m not going to be just a fuck buddy for you!”

His
nostrils flared, making him look like a wild animal. I nearly caved.  God, he
was so
gorgeous
.

That
look was quickly replaced by one of regret. He sighed and rolled away, running
a hand through his hair as he leaned against my bed.  “I’m sorry.  I promised
myself I would respect the boundaries you gave me.  I really don’t want to ruin
what we have. I’ve enjoyed being around you, and I appreciate being able to
spend the holidays here.  Forgive me?”

I
rolled over and scrambled back as if I faced a rattlesnake in my bedroom. 
Maybe I did.

I
know it doesn’t sound like much, but apologies from Asher Pratt were as rare as
diamonds. I, too, enjoyed being around him and didn’t want to lose his
friendship simply because we’d slipped. This was my fault too. I hadn’t been in
all that big of a rush to stop him. In fact, if my mother hadn’t been
downstairs...

I
blew out a breath.  “I’m sorry too. We can’t...we shouldn’t....Asher, you can’t
touch me anymore.  It’s still too raw...too soon...”

He
gulped and nodded.  He knew it too.  We were like gasoline on an open flame. 
Maybe we were just fooling ourselves with thinking we could even be friends.

The
silence was awkward.  Then he apologized again and made me laugh, and the
moment passed.

I
rose and started to clean up the gift-wrapping mess, but he stopped me.  “Can
you leave me alone with this for about fifteen minutes?” He had mischief all
over his face.

“What
are you doing?” I crossed my arms in front of me and gave him a look.

“You’ll
find out later. Please?”

“Okay.
Just come downstairs when you’re done.  Dad should be home any time now with
the pizza.”

It
was one of the nicest Christmas Eves I’ve ever had.  We ate pizza until we
nearly burst, opened presents, and then, as predicted, my mother started to read
a book and my father fell asleep on the sofa as
A Christmas Story
blared
away on the TV.

Asher
helped me clean up the wrapping paper and ribbon that was strewn all over the
family room.  He’d been smiling and lively in the presence of my parents.  Now
he looked thoughtful and…well, sort of bummed out.

“Are
you all right?” I asked.

He
sighed and gave me a wistful smile before he threw a wad of ribbon at me.  “I’m
fine.  I just didn’t realize how much I missed all this.”

My
heart squeezed a little, but I had few words of comfort for him. He was missing
his mother, and I couldn’t do a thing about it. “I’m sorry. I wanted you to
have fun tonight.”

“Oh,
I did,” he assured me as he sat down in front of the tree.  “It’s just that my
mother always made Christmas so special for us—just the two of us. Food and
presents, and we stayed up all night watching those stupid Christmas movies.
The same feelings came to me when we were laughing and opening gifts tonight,
and it was odd to feel that way again.  They were good feelings—God, they were
so good—but painful, you know?” He swallowed and intertwined his fingers in his
lap.  “Thanks for inviting me over, Chels. It means a lot to me.”

I
plopped down in front of him and took his hand—I don’t know why—and he squeezed
it gently.  He was a lonely human being, and no matter how I felt about him or
what he’d done to me, I knew I’d made the right decision to invite him to share
in my family’s celebration.  What is it the Grinch said?  That his heart grew
three sizes that day?  That was exactly the way I felt, sitting on the floor in
front of Asher Pratt that Christmas Eve.

“Hey,
I almost forgot.” He slid his hand under the tree skirt and withdrew a small
package that looked as though a Sasquatch had wrapped it. He extended it out to
me with a small grin. “I got this for you. Merry Christmas.”

I
smiled as I took it.  The box was small, clearly some type of jewelry.  “Is
this why you needed fifteen minutes alone in my room with the wrapping paper?”

“Yep. 
It was too damned small to wrap, so I just crumbled a piece of paper around it
and wrapped it with tape.  Sorry.”

I
glanced up at him, wanting to keep this memory forever.  Asher had actually
gone shopping for me. It was a first.

“Well,
open it!”

I
suddenly felt shy and self-conscious, but I did as he asked.  Under the
crumpled paper was a gray velvet box.  I smiled up at him as I prepared to open
it.  “You shouldn’t have done this.”

He
leaned forward and bit his lip in anticipation.

My
hands shook as I lifted the lid. Inside was a beautiful heart-shaped gold
locket with the initial C engraved in fancy script of the front.  I could tell
it had come from a jewelry store.

“Oh,
Asher, it’s beautiful.  Thank you!”  I ran my fingers over it.

“Open
it. Open the locket.”

I
held the golden heart between my fingers and gently pried it open with my
fingernails.  Asher had inserted a picture of himself inside. 

The
grin was lopsided. His hair had been brushed to the side as he stared straight
into the camera. The picture was small, but I could tell it was taken at
Tapestries.  The white ties of his apron were visible around his neck.

He
spoke as though he could hear my thoughts.  “I didn’t have anyone else to do
it, so I had Marybeth take my picture in front of the bar at Tapestries. “

  “Why
didn’t you take your apron off?”

“I
didn’t want to.  I’ve had the best four months of my life working with you at
Tapestries.  It seemed like a good idea to leave it on.”

That
did it. I was fucked.  I dropped my face into one hand, held the locket with
the other, and sobbed like a baby.  He pulled me into his arms and just held
me.

I
started thinking dangerous, rebellious things.  And what was even more
dangerous was that I knew I was going to give voice to at least some of them.

“God,
why can’t we….why can’t we just
be
?  Why can’t you just
love
me?”

His
voice had a catch in it.  “I do love you, Chelsea.  So much more than I ever
thought possible.”

I
sat up and glared at him, my eyes wet with tears.  I’m sure my nose was bright
red as well, but I didn’t care.  “Then what the fuck is wrong with you?”

He
gulped. “I… I only know when I start to feel like I might have…I dunno…a future
or something with you, I panic.  It crushes me.   I feel like I have to run as
far away from everything as I can possibly get. Does that make any sense?”