Maya by Shayne Ford

4

MAYA

Saturday, Tara’s place

The evening gown is a showstopper.

It’s a strapless red dress with high slits up the legs and a back zipper.

It surpasses my expectations, highlighting everything about me, making it impossible to go unnoticed.

Why do I want to go unnoticed?

My looming divorce seemingly has that effect on me.

It makes me want to fade into the background and never draw the attention of anyone ever again.

It’s survival at its best.

My mother says it’s a temporary glitch in my psyche. It’s convalescing, and my psyche needing bending.

Whatever it is, it makes me resist the idea of being dressed like I’m screaming for attention when I’m not, but Tara doesn’t take no for an answer.

I bitch and moan and comment endlessly, but it’s hard to argue it doesn’t make me look good once I put it on.

The corset-style top sets off my bust, highlighting my shoulders and my arms. I’ve worked out regularly since Matt and I split up, and it shows.

I have definition now under my taut skin.

Sitting in my mother’s backyard every afternoon, I got tanned, and the bronze makes my green eyes and blonde hair pop.

I spin in front of Tara and glance in the mirror, still opposed to the idea of wearing something so flashy.

She thinks I look good.

I think I look good too, but as I said before, garnering attention makes me apprehensive at this point, especially knowing that I’ll meet Shade’s friend today.

Tara doesn’t know much about him other than he is twenty-one like Shade, a student at Cambridge, and he lives overseas.

That works perfectly for me, especially if we don’t like each other. We don’t have to live with the awkwardness stemming from a failed encounter.

She argues he can’t be that bad since he’s Shade’s best friend. Some logic she has.

Anyway, I lose the argument and get stuck with the magnificent gown, red heels, and a beautiful jewelry set she insists I should wear.

No matter how much she commiserates with me, she nudges me along, determined to make me look my best and enjoy the party.

I stare in the mirror, going over the details of my appearance.

Everything is over the top.

My hair falls down my back in big waves, my skin shimmering, my makeup deepening my stare and showcasing my cheekbones.

My mother’s cheekbones.

All and all, everything looks good, but my nervousness doesn’t subside at all. If anything, it only increases the closer we get to the point of leaving Tara’s place.

It may have to do with not going out much, being on my own for the first time in years, or meeting this stranger.

As much as she’s claimed otherwise, Tara is stressed out too.

It makes sense in her case.

She’s so in love with Shade, she can’t even grasp it, but my uneasiness goes beyond what I’d consider normal, and it’s difficult to explain it.

Sighing, I move away from the mirror and wait by the window while Tara takes a shower, my eyes hovering over the street.

The sidewalks are washed with golden light.

It’s Saturday afternoon, the weather is nice, and people spend time outside.

I still grapple with disquietude, but I’m also giddy, as if a new life awaits me around the corner.

It’s still early, my mother said. Early to make mistakes and learn. Early enough to be kind to myself despite my blunders.

But it doesn’t always feel that way.

I swipe the thought to the side when my phone rings. I spin around, my gown swishing as I glance around the room, looking for my cell phone.

The sound is muffled, and for a good reason––I find it buried under a sofa pillow.

Annoyed, I snatch it up, my jaw instantly clenching.

“Yes, Matt,” I say tensely.

My ex calling me on a Saturday afternoon can’t be good, especially since we haven’t talked directly in weeks.

He’s in a bad mood and grates my nerves immediately, venting his frustration with our realtor. He can’t stand how slowly the selling process is.

Quietly, I head into the kitchen, close the door and listen to him, my teeth grinding.

Why is he telling me all this?

He’s obviously had a bad day, and he’s forgotten I’m no longer his wife, despite not having our day in court yet.

His bitching and moaning makes my pulse spike, my stomach tied in knots. I push back and fight back to establish some boundaries, but the damage is done.

If he has planned to ruin my day, he’s undoubtedly accomplished it.

It’s part of the process, my mother also said, and I agreed with her, but his tirade makes me even angrier since I’m now sweating in my brand new dress.

“Fucking jerk,” I murmur, ending the call.

It’s not as if I don’t want to sell the house quickly.

I hate the idea that I have to part with it, but I wouldn’t live in that place ever again.

Pissed, I return to the living room.

Tara shoots me a glance as I walk in.

She’s all dressed up, wearing a black evening gown and strappy heels, and just finishes putting on her makeup.

It takes her a second to figure out what went on in the other room.

Despite her reassurance that everything will be all right, I grapple with a nauseating feeling.

She spends a few more minutes in front of the mirror checking her appearance, styling her hair, coating her lashes, and painting her lips when her phone starts buzzing.

The car is here, she says, and my blood pressure goes up.

Back to what’s going on right now, I need to forget about Matt and face whatever lies ahead.

The divorce can’t come soon enough.

We leave Tara’s place moments later and take the elevator down.

I keep glancing in the mirror, grappling with unusual tension. I blame it on so many things, but doing that doesn’t calm me down a bit.

“I can’t believe we’re doing this,” I say, running my fingers through my hair.

“I can’t believe you’re still talking about it,” she tosses back at me, smiling.

The last time we went out together was before we got married. It was a friend’s birthday party.

I met Matt there.

Ugh.

I push that memory back.

Thank God the elevator doors pull open.

We walk across the lobby, our eyes trained on the glass doors in front of us.

My heart beats even faster when I spot a black limo.

“Where are we meeting them?” I ask, inching closer to the door and glancing at her.

“They’re picking us up,” she says, a secret smile curving her lips.

She turns her eyes to me while I barely breathe.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

I know why. She would’ve never gotten me so far.

I would’ve procrastinated and possibly changed my mind, but now, this is it.

It’s funny how life gives me a different perspective on things.

I didn’t use to be like this.

Between Tara and me, I was the confident and adventurous type, and hopefully, I still am, but I lived as if I was someone else for a while.

There was a lot of slowing down, reimagining things, cutting deals, and compromising in my marriage.

Taming my impulses and cutting back on who I was.

Whatever… I don’t want to think about it.

Regardless, I can’t ignore the weightless feeling in my body as if gravity has left the earth.

Breathing shallowly, I move my eyes to the car waiting for us in front of the building.

“They are here,” she says, more tension swirling around my neck.

I gasp, shifting my eyes to our ride.

The dark tint makes it impossible to see inside.

I know how Shade looks.

Besides describing him in detail, Tara has sent me a few pictures of them from Italy.

If his friend is half as handsome as Shade is, I’m on board.

Tara has had luck with Shade, and not only because his handsomeness and athletic body could stop traffic, but because he is a real man, having that third dimension about himself she and I have always craved in a man.

It’s interesting how my mind works.

A few steps separate us from the exit, and I’m already busy adjusting my expectations.

If he is half as cute as Shade is, I could have a conversation with him and even dance… Maybe.

But then, he’s young.

Younger.

And twenty-one-year-old men are immature and don’t know much about women. Plus, he may look too young, like one of those lithe, boyish guys.

It doesn’t matter, I muse, trying to get a grip.

Skinny or not, I’m not getting married again, and I’m not planning to do anything else either.

So, chill, Maya.

He’s just a guy wearing a tuxedo, trying to have some good time before flying back to Europe.

The warm air rolls over my shoulders, kissing my cheeks.

I squint against the sun as we walk through the double doors and take the steps down to the limo.

For a few short moments, I focus on walking as gingerly as I can and carefully, not stepping on my dress and tripping before the driver climbs out, walks around the car, and stops inches away from the back door.

This is it…

This is the fucking moment. And again, why am I so nervous?

My heart pounds so hard as I watch the scene unfolding in front of me. The back doors slide open, and two men smoothly push out.

The closest one is Shade. Tall, blonde, green-eyed, gorgeous. He’s even more handsome than in the pictures, and that stresses me out even more.

Again, why?

I don’t know.

I can’t spend too much time thinking about him, my eyes moving to the other man.

His tuxedo jacket falls smoothly over his broad shoulders, giving way to a crisp white shirt.

Swiftly, I notice his jet-black hair, and I instantly know what I’m about to see next.

My heart comes to an abrupt stop, my nails sinking into Tara’s arm.

He is not what I expected.

He looks like a full-grown man with his tall stature, muscular neck, athletic shoulders, and tight chest.

The moment he straightens out of his seat and turns to us, the gravity acts on me again, pulling me down this time.

I feel like I’m falling.

I think he looks at me first. I’m positive he does, although Tara hasn’t met him before either, so we are equally unknown to him.

But he must know her from the pictures the same way I know Shade from her photos.

Be that as it may, he looks at me. And I stare at him, not breathing, not moving, turned to stone next to Tara, holding onto her as if I hold onto my dear life.

I don’t know what it’s happening to me.

This feeling is completely unexplainable to me, but I can’t take my eyes away from him, swiftly taking inventory of his chiseled jaw, perfectly arched lips––one corner naturally curved up into a slightly lopsided grin––and those penetrating, dark bedroom eyes that make me feel like a leaf flip-flopping in the breeze.

His face is a mix of raw masculinity and pervasive seduction, naturally inherited, again, a soft light beaming from inside, illuminating his eyes.

When he looks at me, he truly looks at me, his eyes narrowing with a soft smile as if entering my mind.

I can’t tear my gaze away from him when he swaggers my way, and I experience this weird feeling of vulnerability.

I crumble and melt inside at the same time.

The ground feels unsteady under my feet as my heart smashes itself against the boned top of my dress that oddly feels too much right now as the handsome stranger closes the distance between us.

On a scale from one to ten, he breaks the scale.

He can’t be ranked. He is a woman’s wet dream.

His stride is deliberate, his shoulders set, his chin slightly down as he holds my gaze.

A swift once-over gives me a full view of his well-built body filling his tuxedo with enticing precision. Hard chest, flat abs, muscular arms, and legs.

My gaze flicks up in a second before finding his eyes again. Those magnificent eyes, obsidian lustful pleasure glinting between his silky lashes, a clear contrast to his complexion. His eyes express even more satisfaction as he draws to a smooth stop in front of me.

He likes what he sees, although not once has he dragged his gaze down to take inventory of my chest or bare legs.

Shade makes the introductions, and for a second, the man in front of me moves his eyes to Tara, who studies him with undisguised curiosity.

She is as surprised as I am.

She said she didn’t know what he looked like, and I believe her. Like me now, she can hardly breathe.

He takes Tara’s hand, brings it to his lips, and places a soft kiss on her knuckles. Her face turns scarlet like my shoes.

A secret smile dips his lips when he swiftly reads Tara’s eyes. Shade observes them from the side while I notice the nonverbal communication between the two men.

Shade must’ve talked about Tara, a knowing smile arching his best friend’s lips when he finally has a better grasp of who she is.

Anxious to move the spotlight away from herself, she turns to me.

“Chad, this is my friend Maya Torres.”

I’m so happy I kept my maiden name when I got married.

It has a certain zing to it, and it helps me pull myself together now, centering my eyes on Shade’s friend.

Chad McKenna stretches his hand out without stepping closer, prompting me to move forward and close the distance between us.

The moment our hands connect, my heart beats at a different speed, the sounds around me becoming muffled as I get caught into the golden haze of the afternoon, the image of the trees dripping with sunlight, the warm breeze sweeping our faces, and the hot blood pulsing beneath his skin, and mine.

Holding my hand gently, he lifts it to his lips, repeating the gesture, pressing them against the back of my hand while I watch him wide-eyed.

His lips are soft and warm and put more pressure into his kiss than they did in Tara’s case.

I know it because I watched him.

His eyes never leave mine, making it impossible to conceal how mesmerized I am with him.

How breathless I am and how impossible it is to hide.

He learns all that by leaving a spellbinding kiss on the back of my hand.

Blood pools in my face, and my skin catches on fire from his intense gaze and tender touch.

Trembling inside, I break away from him when Tara comes to rescue, introducing her new man to me.

Chad’s eyes stay on me as I shift my focus to Shade, who observes me in silence, a knowing smile glinting in his eyes.

Everybody knows what’s going on. Shade, Tara… Chad.

I manage to pull myself together and exchange a few words with Shade.

One look at him, and I understand what happened to Tara. It’s exactly what’s happening to me right now.

I remember the most popular boys in high school.

They were hot as hell, and Tara and I had always wondered how they’d look when they grew up.

Now I know, although they had nothing on Chad and Shade.

Maybe it is that boarding school––Tara told me––they attended, or perhaps it’s in their genes. I don’t know what it is.

All I know is that I’m shocked. Too shocked to comprehend that these two men are our dates for the evening.

And Shade is much more than a date to Tara.

His green eyes flicker with a smile as he points to the limousine, inviting us in.

Stiff and hot, I shift to Chad and follow him around the back of the car.

He holds the door open for me, a secret smile beaming in his eyes when he takes my hand and helps me get in.

His stance, confidence, and manners make me weak in my knees.

The man is drop-dead gorgeous, displaying that kind of smoothness only older, more seasoned men possess, and he does it without the slightest effort.

It’s puzzling to me.

When he slides next to me, I settle into the back seat, the door closing with a soft thud. Tara and Shade sit across from us.

My eyes hover over them for a second.

Tara looks cheerful and sensual––she’s never looked better––the man at her side smiling contently.

“So, how do you like Seattle?” the man at my side asks in a rich, deep voice.

A hint of tobacco and fruity notes blend in his cologne.

I smile timidly.

“I’m okay with it,” I say.

He breathes out a quiet chuckle, a smile exploding in his eyes, illuminating his face.

My grin brightens as I revel in his handsomeness and cheerfulness.

He cocks an eyebrow at me, slowly rolling his bottom lip under the edge of his teeth.

“Is ‘okay’ good enough for you?” he asks.

His quiet, vibrating voice could give me an orgasm if murmured against my neck or my ear.

The obvious innuendo in his words gets my mind entangled into a mess of sparring thoughts.

Is ‘okay’ good enough for me?

Does he know stuff about me? Is the ‘good enough’ my marriage? Has Tara talked to Shade?

I’m going entirely off a tangent here, so I push that thought from my mind.

Realizing I’m a bit rusty at this back and forth, I try my best.

“Sometimes good enough is enough until the right thing comes along,” I toss at him.

A knowing grin curls his lips, making my nipples hard.

Oh, I’m in for a wild ride.