Instead, my eyes take a peek down at her chest because she’s only in a white tank top and, well, the tops of her breasts are visible and even her nipples pebble against the fabric. Fuck me standing, no guy can stop himself from that view.
“Do you know anything about brides before their weddings?”
I cock my head, my eyebrows lifted together trying to piece together where this is heading.
“What? You mean like they turn into bridezilla’s?”
“Yes, exactly,” she muses, the words dropping out of her mouth like heavy boulders. “And I do not want April to go postal on us. She doesn’t deserve it.”
I scoot closer, not wanting to alarm her, but only wanting to be next to her.
“Joey, I think I’m a little lost here. Who is April and why is she going to go bridezilla?”
My arm goes around her shoulders, my hand brushing her bare skin. The contact is exquisite and my thoughts inappropriate, so I focus on the tightness in her neck versus my tightening balls.
“She called me today and asked that I help her get her order for dresses resolved. They messed up the color of the dresses and she’s so upset by it. So she asked for my help.”
My hand involuntarily clenches on the top of her arm.
“Okay. That sounds…”
“She asked me to resolve it. So I did. I called the company and demanded that they exchange her fucked up colored-dresses or I was going to the Better Business Bureau and filing a complaint. But before I do that, I’d add the worst review they’ve ever seen on Yelp and all over social media. And then I said I’d ram the ugly-ass purple dresses up their tight, hairy buttholes. But not before I doused them with gasoline and lit them on fire.”
There’s a bit of maniacal in her tone and I gulp in fear. God, I hope she never gets that pissed at me.
“Uh, that doesn’t sound like something you’d say.”
She pulls her head back and gives me this look that says, “boy are you an idiot.” At least, that’s what it seems to say.
“Exactly. I didn’t think I had it in me, either,” she flaps her hands in the air and her eyes blaze with annoyance. “But I’ve come to the realization that it’s because I’m wound up tighter than a rubber band on a ticking time bomb. I’ve hit my tipping point, you know? And I’ve figured out that it’s because I hate teaching. It’s making me into a horrible, angry, stressed-out woman. I don’t think I can do it anymore.”
She bends at the waist and drops her head to her hands. My hand is displaced and falls to her lower back, which I rub in reassuring circles.
“Oh babe, you have no idea the impact you’ve made with your students. But you’ve got to do what you feel is right for you. And if it’s not teaching anymore, that’s okay. Then you go find something else you’re passionate about that won’t break you or make you feel like this.”
She nods as if I’ve said something that makes sense. Something positive and worthwhile. I watch with fascination as she leans into me and places a soft kiss on my cheek before she stands.
“You’re right. Absolutely right. I need to find something else,” she declares with hands on her hips, determination in her eyes. “I just don’t know what.”
It dawns on me then. What makes me happy when I’m down and frustrated? What helps me get out of my own head, for even a little while, and puts me in someone else’s shoes?
“Join my play group this summer.”
Joey laughs for the first time since I entered her apartment.
“Play group? You want me to have a playdate with you? What are we, like four?”
I chuckle at her reference and then my thoughts turn dirty. Nope, stay away from that idea.
I wave my hand. “No, not like that. My theater group. I just heard that my play was chosen as the summer project at Acting OUT. It’s a beginners group – no experience necessary. It’s all about fun and learning the craft.”
Joey adamantly shakes her head. “Dude, I’m not an actress. No way. I couldn’t.”
Jumping to my feet, I reach for her hands and place them in mine, see-sawing them up and down.
“Yes, this is perfect. It’s exactly what you need this summer. It will be a great way to step out of your comfort zone and will possibly open up a whole new world for you. At the very least, you’ll have some fun with me.”
She tries to pull her hands away but I hold on tight, refusing to let go.
