The Good Life

Chapter 12

“Call me when you’re close.” she said through her phone. She hung up and hurried to jump in the shower. She was sweaty and probably not in the best shape to be meeting Bruno on such short notice. But, if she was going to try her hardest to make this work, it was going to have to be this way.

It was four months later and the two had seen each other a handful of times. There was no sex, just lots of talking, laughing and learning. There was no commitment. She made that clear that she knew that there were indeed “beautiful girls all over the world.” She rolled her eyes every time he suggested that she was the only one he really thought of. She never held her breath at the thought of monogamy. However, she never really dated anyone either.

There was a knock on the door. “Damn. He didn’t call me.” Her hair was still in a towel. She was wearing a high school track shirt and shorts. She had moisturizer on, but no make-up. “Oh, thank you Sephora…” a birthday pack of lip glass sat on her side table. She grabbed it and swiped it on before opening the door.

“You said you were going to….” Oh my god…what a babe. Like I want to get into his pants now. Like no joke. Skinny jeans, red v neck shirt, straightened hair, rimmed glasses and no hat. Seriously how can he do that to a girl?

“I like to keep it fresh.” he smirked. Dimples, white teeth, brown eyes. He stepped inside and took her hand.

“You ran today?”

“But heart didn’t start racing until you walked in the door.” she joked.

“Ha! That was funny!” He laughed at her

“I wasn’t kidding…” she felt the butterflies in her stomach the same as she did during their first date. She pulled him in toward her, this time realizing that their eyes were at exactly the same place. They looked at each other, so close that she melted into his brown eyes and he slowly melted into her lips. He wrapped his arms around her waist while she moved her arms to his next to rub her fingers through his hair. It was so straight, so different than the way it was the last time. The last time. No. They weren’t. This can’t happen this way. He has to make her feel special…but he does…in every single way. The way he touches me, the way he talks to me, the way he makes me laugh…and cry…so very special….and the cinnamon.

He ran his fingers through her damp hair and kissed her neck gently before he pulled back.

“Come with me.” he took her hand and led her out the door toward his car.

She stalled not wanting to lose him to anyone or anything, knowing that she was being selfish.

“Not dressed like this…no.” she pleaded.

“Yes, like that…” he drug her out of the house and closed the door. “Wait, you have your keys?”

“In my hand,” she replied.

**

They pulled up to a small building that Marla had never seen before. She was a native Los Angelino, but had no idea where they were. It made her a bit nervous.

“What are we doing?”

“Don’t worry. Just be patient.” he calmed her down.

“How can I be patient if I have no idea what we’re doing or where we are?”

“Trust me.” He took her hand from the other side of the car and squeezed it tightly. It helped a bit.

They got out of the car where he led her into the small Spanish style building. It was a recording studio and amphitheater.