Release Read online

  Kayla and Leona sit silently surprised, though I don’t know why. Leona and Xavier spent most of their first date kissing each other to death in a bar.

  I’ve spoken for so long my coffee’s cold. I take my mug and put it in the microwave and reheat my beverage for thirty seconds. Sitting back at the table, I take an experimental sip. “Mmm, perfect,” I mumble to myself after the heated fluid slides down my throat.

  “Perfect coffee or perfect date?” Leona asks.

  “Well both, but I was referring to my drink.” I take another swallow.

  She folds her arms across her tummy. “What a night?”

  “I know.” It was wonderful.

  “And he didn’t even try to get you to go home with him?”

  “Nope, not even a hint.”

  “So what next?” Kayla asks, surprisingly enthusiastic. “When are you seeing him again?”

  I slowly raise a shoulder. “Not sure. He said he’ll call me later.”

  “Watch this space, hey?” Leona says.

  “That’s enough about me. Since you’ve arrived home in yesterday’s knickers, do we have progress on the Xavier front?” She and Xavier have been on a few dates now.

  “First off,” she raises her forefinger, “you know I don’t do dirty knickers. Secondly,” her smile literally takes over her entire face, “this bird’s bagged herself an American boy.”

  Sixteen: Dane

  The ring of my cell phone wakes me. I grab it from the nightstand and answer, without opening my eyes to look at the Caller ID.

  “Hey, big brother,” Saffron says slowly, in her excited, curious tone. “How’d last night go?” This is eager. Too eager.

  “If I was awake I’d tell you.”

  “Give it up, what happened?”

  “We had a great night. What more do ya wanna know?”

  “She’s not with you now, is she?”

  “No. I took her home in a cab and then I came back here. Alone.” I crack an eye open for a second, my blinds are keeping me nicely in shade.

  “Good. This is good, Dane. How do you feel about her?”

  “I told you already.”

  “That was before last night. Are you sure about this?”

  “I’m sleeping, Saff?”

  “No you’re not. If we’re talking, you’re awake. Also, it’s almost two in the afternoon, why are you still in bed?”

  “I was up for a couple hours and then I got tired.”

  “I’m sorry if I’m being pushy. There’s potential here, Dane, I want this to work out for you. I want to see you happy and settled.”

  “Let’s not push so hard, Saff.”

  “Yeah.”

  Now I feel like an asshole, because she’s less enthusiastic. “Please, don’t worry. It’s all good, I promise.”

  “Okay, I won’t pressure you. I love you, Dane.”

  “I love you too.”

  Thirty minutes later, I’m still laying here, my mind caught up in thoughts I don’t want to be having. I’ve got to get out of this apartment. A workout might provide the interruption I need.

  At the gym, I run hard and wreck my muscles with weights. It worked as a good distraction, but as always, distractions are only temporary. You can never really escape your own head.

  I leave the gym, jump on my motorcycle and head in the direction of my apartment. As I turn off of Van Ness Ave and on to Sutter, I spot Brooklyn coming out of the dance studio. Pulling over by the curb, I remove my helmet and call out to her. She turns in my direction, smiling. As she walks to me, I dismount my bike.

  “Hello,” she says, stopping in front of me. “What are you up to?”

  “Just coming back from the gym. I thought it was your day off?”

  “It is, but I needed to stretch. I thought you didn’t go to the gym on weekends?”

  “I don’t. Excess energy, so I went today instead of tomorrow. What you doing now?”

  “Nothing,” she says, shaking her head, “Just going home.”

  “Wanna come with me?” Shit, maybe not the best choice of words. “You know I didn’t mean that how it sounded?” Not yet, anyway. I’m just taking the opening that’s presented itself.

  Her gaze briefly breaks away from mine. “I know. Don’t see why not. I’m not getting on that, though,” she says, pointing at my motorcycle.

  “Are you scared?”

  “No. Maybe. I’m not getting on it. I’ll drop my stuff off quickly and drive over to you. Text me your address.”

  We go our separate ways, and when I get home I take the opportunity to make Saffron feel better after our call earlier.

  “Hey, what’s up?” she answers.

  “I’m just reporting in. Brooklyn’s coming over.” Reporting in? This shit is fucking weird.

  “No way!” she screeches down the line, almost deafening me.

  “Damn, girl, calm down. We’re just hangin’ out.”

  “She’s coming to your apartment. This is freaking awesome. Oh, I didn’t get to ask you earlier. Did you make out last night?” Now I wish I hadn’t called.

  “I’m a grown man and I’m older than you. You don’t get to ask me that. I’m just keeping you informed, as I said I would.”

  “I was just playing, but you totally did. Omigosh, she’s like gonna be your girlfriend,” she says in a silly girly voice, teasing.

  “Okay, I’m going now.” I’d laugh at her if she wasn’t talking about me.

  “Fine, go, you’ve given me all the details I need. Have fun, big bro.” The smartass hangs up before I get the chance to respond.

  Seventeen: Brooklyn

  Just before I leave for Dane’s, I make a call. It’s late in the UK, but if the person concerned is a night owl, it’s not a problem.

  When she answers the phone, “Hello, darling,” the soft, loving texture of her tone makes my lips curve wide.

  “Hi, Mum, how are you?”

  “I’m great, love. How’s everything going?” I can hear the smile in her voice.

  “This week was brilliant as well, it’s been amazing. We’re over the moon with everything so far. I can’t wait for you to get here – less than two weeks to go.”

  “I can’t wait, either. Tommy, your dad and me miss you loads.”

  “I take it they’re all asleep by now?”

  “They are, but everyone’s well. Going by the time, it wasn’t them you wanted to speak to anyway. So tell me, what else have you been up to? Surely not all work and no play.”

  “Mainly work, but a little bit of play. I had a date last night,” I beam, “he’s the brother of Ella’s friend. I’ve been taking it easy, though, which is why I haven’t mentioned him to you yet. He’s quite popular with the ladies, so I’ve been careful. That aside, he’s really, really nice and stupidly good looking.”

  “Aww, it’s good for you to spend time with someone. You can’t avoid boyfriends forever – there are good men out there. Perhaps he’s a good’un. I hope this works out. Might be difficult if he’s American, though.”

  “I’m not thinking that deeply into things at the moment. I’m not thinking too far ahead full stop. It’s just nice getting to know him and last night was great.”

  It’s impossible to explain the situation with Dane. We both want different things in our love lives, yet I can’t help going with the draw I feel towards him. If I’m reading him correctly, Dane’s doing the same.

  Unless I’m simply too hopeful, and I’m the only one being drawn – drawn into something that could potentially shatter a girl who’s barely put herself back together.

  “He’s invited me to his apartment tonight.”

  “Are you asking your mother’s permission to go to a boy’s house?” she jokes, and it’s the lighthearted response that I need to something quite serious.

  “Yes, I am.”

  “If you like this – what’s his name?”

  “Dane.”

  “That’s a nice name, isn’t it?”

  “Yeah, it is
. His sister’s name is Saffron.”

  “Oh, I like that. There’s a spice called Saffron. What a lovely name for a girl.”

  “I think so, too.” I fill Mum in on details about the siblings, their jobs, ages and things like that.

  “My darling, if you feel comfortable with Dane and you’re ready for something to happen between the two of you, then you have my permission to go. If there’s even the slightest doubt in your mind then we can stay on the phone all night and you can tell him when you next see him that your mummy wouldn’t let you out to play.”

  I guffaw to the point of bringing tears to my eyes, happy tears. “Mum, you always say the right thing when I need you to. I miss you even more now.”

  “Oh, bless you, love. I’m here whenever you need me, morning, noon or night. So what do you want to do? What feels most right?”

  “I feel comfortable going. I feel comfortable with him. I suppose I just want confirmation that this is all okay.”

  “You’re a smart girl and your instincts are good. You’ve always been good at picking men, you’ve had lovely boyfriends.”

  All except one seems to hang in the air, unsaid. But I agree. I have been fortunate enough to have great boyfriends. And even though Dane had a moment of being a prick, I think he’s genuinely a nice guy as well.

  “Thank you, Mum.”

  “No problem. Let’s speak again tomorrow.”

  “Okay. Love you loads.”

  I finish my call and stand indecisively for a moment. I’d like to change my clothes, maybe make more of an effort, but I don’t want to seem like I’m trying too hard. I showered for a second time after my long stretch session and changed into black cropped leggings and a black training top, so I’m fresh and my outfit isn’t exactly the worst choice in the world. It’s ideal for hanging out, really.

  I spray on some deodorant, even though I don’t need it, and put on a small amount of black mascara and clear lip gloss, so it’s effective without being obvious. Lastly, I throw on my pink jumper and fix it to hang off one shoulder.

  After a quick chat with Leona, so she knows where I’ll be, I drive to the address Dane text me, which is less than ten minutes from my place. It wouldn’t have taken long to walk it. I can’t believe how near he lives. Between his apartment and the shop, I think it’s inevitable that I’d have seen him at some point. Even the gym he uses isn’t far from the studio.

  Standing in the lift, I press the button to take me up to the fourth floor. Okay, slightly nervous now. Something as simple as this should not have me nervous. It’s not like I haven’t visited a man’s home before.

  But they weren’t Dane.

  Unexpectedly, a smile forms. I’ll actually get to see his place. I was so distracted by the idea of being completely alone with him, and the extremes of temptation, I didn’t think about this journey deeper into his life and the person he is. Okay, slightly excited now. More than slightly.

  The doors slide open, and I step out. At the same time, a front door across the hall, a little to the right, opens and Dane appears. I’m nervous all over again. There’s no turning back now. Any chance of that was gone once he answered the intercom, unless I wanted to look like an immature idiot.

  “Quite a fancy, hi-tech lift– sorry, elevator you’ve got here,” I say, like a twat. I was just grasping for something to say to ease my anxiety.

  “Thanks. I think.”

  Gorgeous, gorgeous, gorgeous Dane, oh my word. How can he look so good in gray tracksuit bottoms and a white T-shirt? I didn’t get to appreciate the black ink covering his muscular arms when he came to the studio, but I’ll definitely be taking a discrete but thorough look throughout the evening.

  He hugs me in welcome. This is progression – it’s the first time we’ve greeted each other this way. It’s a short embrace and he squeezes me nicely just before letting go. Now excitement beats nerves down, big time!

  Though I step across the threshold in a played down ladylike manner, in my mind I cartwheel over the thing. The thick, light beige carpet has me removing my footwear without even being invited to.

  “Usually I have to ask people to do that,” he says with the lips I got to kiss last night expressing his humor.

  “I just couldn’t cheekily walk on something so well kept with my trainers – sorry, tennis shoes on.” I can’t resist pulling off my socks, too. Yep, as I expected, it feels so soft and luxurious under my bare feet. Shall I tell him my thoughts on this? “At the risk of sounding like a twat, I love your carpet.”

  He laughs, but I don’t feel stupid. Not with the sweet affection in his eyes. “So my elevator and carpet get your approval. It’s a good start.”

  Dane guides me to the living area of his open apartment. His whole manner towards me has changed. As we go through, he walks behind me with his hands on my waist. It feels nice to have his touch, even with this simple gesture.

  I manage to stop myself gasping at the no expense spared place. A huge black, leather L-shape sofa takes up the center of the room. Unsurprisingly, his TV is a large, wall mounted flat screen and it’s turned on with the volume on mute. He has the biggest DVD, Blu-ray and CD collections I’ve ever seen, and they’re all displayed on dark wooden shelves that fit the entire length of the walls either side of his plasma.

  What really surprises me is the large bookcase at the back of his living room, every shelf full. I knew he was a keen reader, particularly of sci-fi, horror, conspiracy theories and – non-celebrity – autobiographies, but this far surpasses my expectations.

  I didn’t expect a single guy to have a dining table that seats six, though the stylishness of it is in keeping with the rest of the apartment and it’s a match for the large, chunky coffee table that fits nicely into the space created by the L-shape of the sofa. I’m massively impressed with his home.

  I sit at the breakfast bar whilst Dane fixes us drinks and rather than being hungry, we’re peckish so we snack on nuts and crisps as we talk.

  I check out his music and movie tastes. His music interests include Soul and Rhythm and Blues from the fifties, Motown, old-school hip hop, post-fifties R & B, Jazz, reggae, current bands I know and like myself, and many bands and solo artists I’ve never heard of from various genres, old and new. Eclectic is the word that springs to mind. When Dane expressed his love of music during one of our calls, I never dreamt it was to this degree. Seeing such a diverse collection almost explains the saxophone tattoo on the inside of his right forearm.

  When we sit on the sofa, side-by-side, Dane angled slightly towards me, he hands me the remote control so I can search the TV channels. His apartment is warm, so I pull off my jumper.

  “Why are you scared of motorcycles?” he asks as I check out the movie stations.

  Given the circumstances with his parents, I’m not sure if I should say. I hesitate, thinking.

  “What?” he asks with interest.

  Simple and to the point, I think. “I saw an accident once.”

  He nods like he instantly knows what I mean. It was a bad one and fatal for the rider. It scared the living daylights out of me. I know there are no guarantees – I know that especially sitting here with Dane – but I feel much safer enclosed in a car, not so exposed.

  “I don’t want you to feel like you have to watch what you say to me. I can take it.”

  I look at him, almost in a daze. He’s got the best face on the planet. “Okay.”

  “Is there anything else you’re afraid of?”

  You a bit. “I’m not a complete scaredy-cat. I love roller coasters – though ‘Final Destination 3’ put me off for a while – and I’ve skydived and bungee jumped.”

  “You have?” Both his brows perk up in surprise. “Are you an adrenalin junkie?”

  “I wouldn’t say that, exactly. The skydive was on my twenty-first birthday and the bungee jump on my twenty-fifth. I’ll have to top those on my thirtieth, somehow.”

  He laughs in disbelief. “Shit. But you won’t get on a motorcycl
e. Maybe that’s something you could try on your thirtieth.”

  He holds a deeply focused eye contact with me for a moment. Something about it hits me right between the legs and I feel myself throb. I want to jump on him, straddle him, and ride his cock. Quite hard.

  Distracting myself, I turn my attention to the TV. “The saxophone tattoo on your arm. What’s the relevance? Do you play?”

  “No, my dad did. He was in a funk band.”

  “Really?” My gaze darts back to him.

  He nods. “My mom was one of the backup singers, and she and my dad wrote a bunch of their songs. That’s how they met.”

  “That’s amazing.” I smile in absolute awe. “Would I have heard any of their stuff?”

  “Unlikely. They spent a lot of time touring from state to state. A little like what you’ll be doing with Release. My parents sold the rights to most of their songs, and my dad did some ghost writing for a couple artists.”

  “There are actually ghost writers for songs?”

  “Yup.”

  Now I understand why he and Saffron were home schooled before they moved to Hillsborough, and why they sometimes stayed with Elizabeth and Ray when they were really young. It never occurred to me to ask why when the subject came up during our first phone call. I also understand Dane’s appreciation for music. I bet his parents were good dancers as well.

  My interest is overwhelmed and I have more questions, but I’ll pace them.

  Eighteen: Dane

  Sitting close to each other on the sofa, I split my attention between the comedy that came on TV and observing Brooklyn watching it. She’s interactive; switching from laughing to verbal disapproval of the rising tension between the characters. I’m crazy about the way she laughs. Sometimes it’s a soft feminine snicker, other times it’s uninhibited, full-blown, loud and hard.

  “That was so funny. I love Owen Wilson,” she says, as the movie credits roll. Relaxed, she’s molding into the sofa.

  It’s been a while since I just hung out with a lady like this. It has been done, quite a few times some may be surprised to know, but I don’t recall it being so damn satisfying.