Lost Love Read online

  “No,” I replied. “I need to work.”

  “You sure?” she said.

  “I’m sure.”

  With that said, Ariana opened the door, stepped out, then closed and locked it behind her. A short moment later, the rev of her car starting up, followed by it peeling out of the driveway, entered my ears, causing Scottie to bob his head enthusiastically and knock his beak along the exterior of the cage.

  “Auntie Ariana is being super nice to you,” I offered as I came forward and crouched down beside the bird’s cage. “You gonna say thank you when she comes back with the pizza?”

  “Yeah,” the bird said, though I’d believe it when I see it.

  A chime sounded from my computer, announcing the arrival of yet another email.

  Who could it be this time? I’d already responded to my agent, who was eager to see the next installment in my Blood Magic series, and I’d already made sure to converse with my apartment manager about the state of my home—which, undoubtedly, was a burned crisp. That could only mean—

  It was Dylan.

  The thought struck me without any rhyme or reason, causing a smile that was wider than Antarctica to spread across my face. Though I had no way to determine whether or not it was him, something—deep down, in the center of my being—told me that it was.

  With that in mind, I made my way over to the laptop, seated myself before it, and pulled up my email.

  It was from none other than the firefighter himself.

  Chase, it began. Hope you’re doing well today. Sorry I haven’t been in touch. Been working a lot and sleeping when I’m not on the job. Just wanted to say that I’ve been thinking of you and that I hope you’re doing well. I’ll keep in touch and let you know when I’m free again.

  - D.

  I smiled, glad that he was at least remaining in contact with me regardless of his hectic business schedule, and penned a quick reply.

  Dylan,

  No worries. I understand. Not much is happening on my end. I’m probably going to go apartment hunting tomorrow anyway, so I’ll be busy. Will keep you updated on the status of my findings.

  Thanks,

  - Chase

  I had no sooner finished penning the reply when Ariana returned with the pizza, causing Scottie to screech in joy and bob his head faster than I could even keep track of it.

  “Pizza’s here!” my friend said.

  “I can see that,” I replied with a smile, standing to accept the pizzas as she came forward with them. “Guess what? I heard from Dylan.”

  “Oh? What’d he have to say?”

  “He’s been working a lot and that’s why I haven’t heard from or met up with him. I told him you were probably going to take me apartment hunting tomorrow after I’d called around and seen what was available.”

  “I see,” the woman replied, opening one of the pizzas and then withdrawing from their depths one of the cheesy, steaming pieces.

  “I want!” Scottie said.

  “I know,” I replied. “Give me a second.”

  “You’re sure it’s all right to give him pizza?” Ariana asked as I prepared myself a serving and one for the bird.

  “He’s been eating it since he was a baby and it hasn’t killed him yet.”

  “That doesn’t mean it’s good for him.”

  “Doesn’t mean it’s good for us either,” I replied, “but that doesn’t stop us from eating it.”

  Ariana considered the slice in her hand, shrugged, and continued to eat. Scottie snatched his piece between his beak in but an instant and then reached up with one of his feet to hold it in place as he munched feverishly, his attention set on the cartoon streaming before him.

  As I returned to the table, and as I seated myself before my laptop computer, I stared at the email from Dylan and tried to keep from looking like a fool.

  Though I was loathe to admit it, especially after only knowing him a little less than ten days, I was really starting to like this guy.

  Go slow, my consciousness was quick to remind me. You don’t need a repeat of what happened with Brad.

  I sighed, stunned into submission.

  “Something wrong?” Ariana asked.

  “No,” I lied. “Everything’s fine.”

  The truth of the matter was: I worried about my future, my aspirations, my life within the live musical capitol of the world.

  Rather than dwell on it, however, I continued to eat—knowing that someday soon, I would be nestled within my own apartment and eating, living, breathing, and sleeping in relative comfort.

  And, maybe someday, Dylan would be right there with me.

  ***

  We drove through the east Austin area and beyond looking for apartment buildings within my price range. Having garnered an excellent advance for the first five Blood Magic books from one of the biggest publishing houses in the Untied States, I could afford to live in relative comfort without fear of going homeless anytime soon, though wasn’t able to exactly splurge on a huge apartment. I wanted at least two bedrooms—one for me and one for my office—and a spacious living room in which I could host friends and place the bird. What I wasn’t exactly sure of were the price ranges we encountered while making our way throughout the city.

  “Austin’s getting spendy,” I said after a moment’s consideration.

  “Yeah,” Ariana sighed. “It is.”

  “I’m not sure what I’ll do if I can’t find a place here.”

  “You could always take the insurance money and move somewhere else,” Ariana replied. “San Marcos might have better prices. Georgetown too.”

  “But I like Austin,” I admitted.

  “You’d still be in Austin. Just a little further away from the main city.”

  “I know, but still. The bus system here is at least decent, and it’s fairly easy to get around.”

  “Not wanting to sacrifice your life of parties and debauchery?”

  “It’s not that,” I replied. “It’s just—”

  “Oh!” Ariana cried, slapping the steering wheel hard enough to cause the horn to honk. “Oh! Dylan!”

  “Duh,” I replied.

  “You should’ve said something, dumbass. I would’ve totally been all for you staying in town then.”

  I narrowed my eyes at her as we pulled up to the front office of yet another apartment complex and climbed out before she could fully stop the vehicle. Ariana, in response, laughed and chased after me the moment she parked the car.

  “Hello,” a receptionist said as I walked into the office. “Can I help you with something?”

  “I’m here about the two-bedroom apartment,” I replied.

  “Oh. Mr. Bennet. You’re just in time! I was just getting ready to call and ask when you’d like to come in for a tour.” The woman stood and considered a set of keys upon a simple ring. “If you’d follow me, I’ll escort you to the apartment in question.”

  I waited for Ariana to join us before I followed the receptionist out of the office and into the humid Austin air, around a corner and up a long pathway that was blanketed by freshly-planted waist-high trees and other brightly-colored flora. As we walked, I considered the neighborhood for what it truly was—and realized, after a few short moments, that a place like this would be perfect for me to live in.

  Children played. Residents cooked in open barbecues. Dogs dragged their owners across wide, open lawns. Squirrels cavorted in the trees and grackles laughed as we passed beneath their nests, causing me to lift my eyes to view the surroundings above me. The place was so green—so wonderfully, wonderfully green—and was a perfect contrast to the red-and-white brickwork buildings around it.

  “This place is beautiful,” I said, turning my head as a frisbee zoomed past and a teenager went chasing after it.

  “Thank you,” the receptionist replied with a grin. “We just recently had a landscaper come in and redo a lot of the floral arrangements around the properties. Sunny Oaks has never looked better.”

  “It sure
hasn’t,” Ariana said from behind us. “I had a friend who lived here a few years back. It looks nothing like it used to.”

  “It sure doesn’t,” the receptionist said, stepping up to a nearby doorway and inserting a key into a lock. “Come on in.”

  I entered the simple two-bedroom apartment expecting little. With beige carpeting underfoot and white walls surrounding us, the place appeared wide and open: fit for a single person whose personal taste could be allowed to flourish in a small space. I immediately began to picture where I could place furniture as we walked—as we were led first through one bedroom, then another. I took note that the room I felt would make an excellent office looked out at a wide open field beyond which was a river and instantly thought of the joys I could potentially have while working here, then followed her into a small white bathroom whose floors were tiled and whose walls were painted a fair cream.

  When finally we came to stand in the kitchen—wherein there stood a multitude of stainless steel appliances that complimented the white cabinets—the receptionist turned to face me and said, “So? What do you think?”

  “What’s the price range for a place like this?” I asked, running my hand along the granite counter top.

  “A two bedroom like this would run about one-thousand a month, eleven-hundred after utilities were factored in.”

  “What do you think?” I asked, turning to face Ariana.

  “Me?” Ariana asked. “Why are you asking me? You’re the one going to be living here.”

  “I was just wondering what you thought of it,” I said, spinning to view the space, which was naturally well-lit by the wide windows about the apartment.

  I waited a moment to process my thoughts—to imagine the life that could be lived here, the work that could be done, the future that could be had—and realized that unless I wanted to downsize or move further outside the city, this was likely the best deal I was going to get for a place in a town like Austin.

  Besides, my consciousness was quick to add. If you choose to live here, you’ll be within walking distance of Dylan’s place.

  Though that wasn’t necessarily a deal-maker, it did ensure that I would be able to visit whenever I wanted without having to depend on him for rides. I could make dinner, walk over, surprise him after he’d gotten off work with my famous macaroni and cheese. It’d be perfect, especially since he wouldn’t have to lift a finger to come get me.

  I couldn’t help but smile as I thought of this and turned to face the receptionist once more. “When could I move in?” I asked.

  “Today,” the receptionist replied. “That is, if you’re willing.”

  “Oh, I’m more than willing.”

  Chapter Five

  Scottie was sad that we were going to be leaving Ariana’s house, but excited that we were embarking on yet another adventure. Dancing, happily, in his travel carrier throughout the entire trip, he watched the traffic as it passed by outside and yelled at birds who refused to talk back to him.

  “Scottie,” I said as Ariana turned into the apartment complex’s parking lot. “They can’t understand you. They’re dumb birds.”

  “Assholes,” the bird mumbled.

  “Scottie!” I cried.

  “Did that bird just call the grackles assholes?” Ariana asked, then began to howl with laughter.

  I could only shake my head in mock disappointment while trying not to laugh as well. “Yup,” I said. “That’s my Scottie.”

  The bird began to bob his head up and down as we pulled into our designated parking spot.

  “Well, Scottie,” I said. “This is it. The new place we’re going to live.”

  “Caca,” the bird said.

  “No caca,” I replied. “We can’t go back to the old apartment, remember? It burned down in the fire.”

  “Scottieeee!” the bird said, then began to whine.

  “Come, Scottie,” Ariana said. “It’ll be an adventure. And you like adventures, right? They have them on your toons enough.”

  The bird sighed, but bobbed his head slightly in agreement as I unbuckled my seatbelt and reached into the back seat to free his travel cage from the seatbelts I’d strung throughout it. I then withdrew him from the vehicle and into the humid Austin air only to receive a, “It’s hot” in response.

  “I know it’s hot, Scottie, but we’re going to be inside the apartment soon. Don’t worry.”

  “You have a parrot?” an unfamiliar voice asked.

  I turned.

  A very attractive black man wearing nothing but a pair of jogging shorts and running shoes had come to a stop and was watching Scottie and I while Ariana crawled out of the driver’s seat.

  “Yup,” I said. “I sure do.”

  “You must be my new neighbor,” the man replied, then extended a sweaty hand. “I’m Dion.”

  “Nice to meet you,” I replied, trying not to stare at his glistening torso and his six-pack abs, which rested beneath a firmly-muscled pair of pectoral muscles. I swallowed a lump in my throat and forced a smile in the slighter taller man’s direction. “And yes, I’m the new neighbor.”

  “If you need any help moving anything in, I’d be more than happy to assist you.”

  “I don’t have a lot to move in,” I replied. “Just the bird’s cage.”

  “No furniture?” Dion frowned.

  I shook my head. “You know that fire over on the east side? The one that took out four different floors of that apartment building? I lived there. Lost pretty much everything.”

  “Jesus, man. Sorry to hear that.”

  “It’s all right,” I said. “I made it out with my bird and laptop, so everything wasn’t a loss.”

  “Scottie!” the bird said.

  “Ok, ok,” I replied. “I know you’re used to air conditioning, your highness.”

  “Your bird’s a character,” Dion replied as he began to follow me up the walkway.

  Ariana—who’d chosen to walk a slight distance behind us—raised one of her finely-waxed brows at me as I turned my head to ensure that she was still following me. I, in response, merely shook my head and forced a smile, mouthing, Chill before turning and inserting the key into the lock.

  “If you want to help me,” I said as I turned to face Dion, “I could use some help getting the bird’s bigger cage in. It’s kind of heavy.”

  “I’d be happy to help,” Dion replied as he turned and made his way toward the apartment door opposite my own. “Just let me get a shirt on and I’ll be right back out.”

  With a nod, I waited until Dion disappeared into his apartment before turning to face Ariana, who continued to look at me with one brow raised. “What?” I asked.

  “You’re flirting with another guy?” she asked, her voice filled with only the slightest hint of sarcasm.

  “I wasn’t flirting with him,” I replied. “I just need a little help carrying the cage in. That’s all.”

  “I thought you were interested in Dylan?”

  “I am, but he’s not here right now, so I need someone to—”

  The door to Dion’s apartment opened, cutting me off before I could finish.

  The handsome black man—dressed in a tight-fitting white tank top that stretched over the wide expanse of his chest—smiled as he looked at me. “Ready?” he asked.

  “Here,” I said, shoving both the apartment key and Scottie into her hands. “Let me get this settled and then I’ll be right back.”

  “All right,” Ariana sighed. “See you in a minute.”

  “All right then,” I said, turning to face Dion. “Shall we go?”

  He nodded and began to follow me back down the sidewalk, toward where Ariana had parked her car.

  The cage—visible even from this distance—was disassembled in the back seat, and would prove to be a chore to remove even with two people.

  “So,” Dion said as we approached and then opened the car’s rear back doors. “This is it then, I take it?”

  “This is it,” I said as I took
note of the cage. “My life’s belongings.”

  “At least you got out with your bird,” Dion said. “I mean, it could’ve been worse, right? You could’ve, well…”

  “Yeah,” I said, interrupting him in the silence that followed. “I hear ya.”

  We stared at each other for several long moments, during which time I struggled to comprehend just what I was feeling in the presence of this strange and charismatic man. There was definitely an attraction there—that much was already for certain—but was it his kindness that drew me to him, or something else?

  It couldn’t be his abs, I thought with a slight smile. Or his smile, gleaming white like the moon at night.

  “Something wrong?” Dion asked in the short moments thereafter.

  “No,” I replied. “Nothing’s wrong. Why?”

  “You just… paused.”

  “Yeah. Sorry. Was just thinking.”

  “Well, let’s get this inside and put together. Then I can get out of your hair.”

  “You’re not in my hair,” I replied, taking a section of the cage and hauling it under my arm. “I appreciate the help.”

  “I know,” Dion smiled.

  I smiled back.

  Shortly thereafter, we began to haul the cage back to the apartment, wherein Ariana—seated beside Scottie on the floor—was seated entertaining herself with a social media application on her phone.

  “Woah woah!” Scottie cried.

  “Woah woah is right,” I said as he began to whine. “Don’t worry, baby. Me and this nice man are going to put your cage back together.”

  He began to bob his head enthusiastically in the moments that followed.

  “Come on,” Dion said. “Let’s get the rest in here before he starts to throw a fit.”

  We’d no sooner left the apartment when Scottie started screaming.

  “That’s my boy,” I chuckled.

  Dion only grinned before following me back to the car.

  After we’d assembled the cage, Dion offered to take me to the store to pick up groceries and other essentials. Ariana, on the other hand, was quick to rebuff the man by saying that she’d planned on doing it.