A Heart Not Easily Broken (The Butterfly Memoirs) (7 page)

“U.C.L.A. They are a good school, plus they’re near one of the best schools for veterinary medicine.” I sampled my rice.

“What did you take?”

“Biology.” Pride filled me as I watched his eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “I graduated with a bachelor’s degree and am working on my veterinary degree. This fall will be my final year.”

“I’m impressed. How long have you been in school?”

“Seven years. I start my final classes this fall.”

“Damn.” He laughed. “I did my four years and got out. Enough was enough.” He reached for his water, sipped. “That’s when the band formed. We were all music majors and started playing our freshmen year. We’ve been together ever since.”

“When did you graduate?”

“Five years ago.”

I did a quick calculation. “We were there at the same time. You graduated a year ahead of me.”

Brian looked up from his plate. “Small world, huh?”

“It seems like it.”

“I admire your dedication. It takes discipline to stay in school that long.”

His statement made me look at him differently. Most guys thought my work was a waste of time.

“What made you decide to become a vet?” He grabbed his fork and dove into his baked potato with gusto. The man was serious about his food.

“My father manages an animal rescue and adoption center. I spent my weekends and summers helping him. My first paying job was working at the local animal hospital cleaning cages and walking dogs.” I shrugged. “That’s when I decided what to do with the rest of my life.”

“What are your plans after graduation?” He listened in rapt attention.

“What I really want is to work full-time at the Los Angeles Zoo. I intern there now, so my foot is in the door. They’re going to have a few permanent spots to fill next year. I want one of them to be mine.” Hiding the determination in my voice was impossible.

“Hmm, passionate about what you want out of life. What are you doing to make it happen?”

I picked up my knife and sliced through my steak like butter. “I worked my butt off for the internship. I also work part-time as a veterinary assistant in an exotic animal hospital. Anything I could do to build my résumé, believe me, I’ve done it.”

“What about grades?”

 My attention diverted from my food. Most guys would have begun talking about themselves by now.

“I maintained a three-point-nine GPA for the last five years.”

“Now I’m really impressed.” He smiled his approval.

Hearing Brian’s praise was refreshing and unnerving. No one besides my family and friends ever took my passion for my profession seriously. He knew nothing about me, yet seemed genuinely pleased.

I cut another piece of my steak; it was the best I’d ever eaten. Then again, maybe it was the company that made it better. “My turn.”

“Ask away.”

“What type of women have you dated? What’s different about me? And you have to be honest.”

Brian wiped his mouth with his napkin and sat back in the booth, a look of satisfaction on his face. His plate was empty.

“I have no problem with honesty.” He paused. “I haven’t dated in a year.”

I eyed him suspiciously. “Women at the club practically threw themselves at you.”

He smiled. “If you mean dated as in having a steady relationship, then it’s been a year. If you mean when I last had sex, then two weeks would be right.”

Hearing him say the word again made me warm in all the right places.

“Ah, you’re one of those types.” I nodded in understanding while trying not to imagine him naked.

“What type?”

“A guy with a phone full of numbers for girls to hook up with.”

Brian shrugged. “I used to, but right now I’ve got other things taking up my time.”

“You mean you don’t have anyone you spend time with? No friends-with-benefits? I don’t believe you.”

Oh crap, the words just flew out of my mouth. What was I thinking? Who he did in his spare time was none of my business.

“No, the position is empty. Are you interested?” A sly grin appeared on his face.

I laughed. “I’ve never understood how people can have sex with someone and not be in a relationship of any kind. Yasmine does it all the time. Why is everything about sex? What about friendship or love? You have to relate to a person in order to truly enjoy sex.”

Ok, I was being the greatest hypocrite. I was guilty of having a friends-with-benefits relationship with Patrick. The rules we’d established hadn’t changed the relationship status.

Brian laughed. “Ebony, when you break it down, everything is about sex. It’s human nature.”

“No, it isn’t,” I protested. “Not for me.”

“So what you’re saying is you would be interested in a permanent relationship.”

Uh-oh, this conversation strayed way off track. My efforts to dig out of it only made it worse.

“Well, no. I’m not looking for anything. What I mean is…”

He smirked. “Then answer this. Why am I not your type?”

How in the hell did I answer without sounding like an idiot? I glanced up and saw Brian patiently waiting for a reply.

“I have a certain physical preference, that’s all.”

“Uh huh. Is it racial or physical?” Before I could answer, he said, “I saw you checking Derrick out, he’s engaged by the way.”

“Who’s Derrick?”

“He’s the drummer. So it’s safe to assume since he’s built like a linebacker, that’s what you want.”

I wanted to open my mouth, but couldn’t.

Brian cocked his head to the side. “Hmm, no response. I must be right. Unless,” he held up a finger, “it’s about me being white. What’s the matter, you don’t think I could please you in bed?”

I could not answer any of his questions. Any reply would leave me sounding like a jackass or racist; I was neither. The only thing I was certain of was being uncomfortable with seeing Brian after tonight. He was smart, witty, and knew how to challenge my mind. I liked him.

“Brian, I’m not like that. If I went to bed with you, it would be because I like you. I’m not basing anything on stereotypes or ignorant thinking. When I sleep with a man, I have certain requirements.”

One of his eyebrows lifted. “What requirements?”

“Monogamy. No long-term commitment required, just…I don’t want to wonder if you were with someone else when not with me.”

“I can handle that.” Brian’s expression had gone serious.

Oh man. I felt my eyes widen and skin flush.

“But since you’ve made it obvious sex is not an option, I’m willing to settle on being friends,” he added.

Our server walked by and placed the check on the table. I reached for my purse just as Brian dug into his wallet.

“You don’t have to”

“I’ve got this. You can pay for dinner the next time we go out if it makes you happy.”

I scoffed. “Who said there would be a next time?”

Brian placed his credit card on the tray with the bill and handed it to our server. He waited until he walked away to reply.  “Because, Ebony, you like me. We can be friends and still go out. We’ll just leave out sex.”

We stared at each other. His smile was halfcocked, eyes intent on mine. Even though he didn’t speak, the unspoken words,
for now
, echoed in my head. 

Chapter 7

Beep…beep…beep…

I growled and slapped off the alarm clock. The image of naked Ebony dissipated. So much for my fantasy.

I rolled out of bed, grabbed the remote, and turned on the morning news. Damn, another forest fire. The smoke mixed with smog would wreak havoc on my bronchitis, which in turn hurt my wallet. At least there was an alternate stream of revenue.

Taking the day off was not in my vocabulary. I had too much stored up energy. Since there was no woman in my bed, it was time to get moving.

I showered, and then grabbed my day planner and rescheduled my customers. Two hundred dollars was now out of reach. I spied the huge red circle on my calendar. Rent was due this week. At least I had earned my part.

Times like this made me wish my father was like Javan’s. Doctor Simmons was a psychiatrist who sent money anytime his son asked for it. He’d been doing it since we were in college. It had been cool when Javan helped me out when my funds ran low. It was one reason why I rented a house with him. His father would always have his back. We were adults now, careers established, and Javan made good money. It was way past time for him to quit relying on his father. My attention went to the next red circle; the deadline for purchasing my guitar neared. The money I spent on the date with Ebony set me back, but it was well worth it. Just thinking of her made me smile. Yeah, I’d definitely do it again.

In the meantime, I needed to make money. Several people asked for private guitar lessons, but my busy schedule didn’t allow time for teaching. The smog alert for the next few days gave me time to spare.

After scheduling two students for lessons in the evening, I grabbed my guitar and sheet music to work on the song I composed for the band.

An hour later my roommate knocked on my door. I put the guitar pick in between my teeth and made a notation on my sheet music. “What’s up?”

Javan leaned against the doorjamb. “You got a minute?”

“Sure.” I set the guitar in its stand and reached for my bottle of water.

“Did Yasmine Phillips call you about her yard?”

“Yeah, on Monday. She wasn’t there, but her roommate was.”

“Oh, yeah? Which one?”

“Ebony.”

Javan whistled. “Man, did you check her out? She is fine. I mean, with her body… I’d love to hit that. Yasmine’s my girl, but we’re not exclusive,” he smirked. “She isn’t looking for commitment, just a good time, you know what I mean?” He paused, eyebrows furrowed in thought. “Hmm…if Ebony is like that…” His eyes lit up. “Damn, that would be one helluva threesome.”

It took everything to control my mouth. I could understand why Ebony felt uncomfortable around him. He wouldn’t care that she’s an intelligent woman, because he’d be unable to see past her shapely behind.

“She’s not a ‘ho, J.” I twisted the cap back on the empty bottle with a vengeance and pitched it into the garbage.

We had occasional testosterone-based disagreements, but we always worked through them. But when it came to the treatment of women, we’d long since agreed to disagree.

Javan believed women were good for three things: satisfying his sexual needs, cooking, and bearing his children. Nothing more, nothing less.

The only thing we had in common was our height. We’re both six-two, though he had a good twenty pounds of muscle on me. Women loved his dark brown skin, hazel eyes, and shoulder-length dreads. He visited the barbershop weekly to keep his goatee trimmed and kept a Jamaican beautician on call to keep his hair done just right. Of course, she was also one of his hook-ups.

When it came to clothes, Javan was strictly GQ, everything top of the line. He was so stuck on himself it still surprised me we got along.

If Ebony’s roommate liked casual sex, she and Javan were a perfect match.

The pretty boy façade was not me. I worked outside, not in an air-conditioned office. I sweated and got dirty, but still took pride in my appearance. My style of dress was casual, laid back. My closet housed jeans, shorts, pullovers, and polo-styled shirts. I kept my face clean-shaven, most of the time, no beard or goatee. Sometimes I let my hair grow until it curled at the nape of my neck. Ladies loved running their fingers through it.

Javan looked at me with raised eyebrows. “And you know this how?”

“I took her out Tuesday. She’s nothing like one of your girls, J. Don’t even think about it.” He stared at me silently, meeting my hard gaze with one of his own. “She’s off limits.”

“You’ve got a thing for her. So it’s like that?”

“With her, it’s definitely like that.”

He inclined his head. “Didn’t you get over dating black women after what happened with, what’s her name?” He snapped his fingers.

“Trina,” I said sourly.

“Trina, yeah.” He shook his head. “So you’re ready to try again. You’ve got balls, man.” He held out a knuckled hand to bump fists. “Just watch your back this time.”

“Believe me, I will. There’s something about her. I can’t put my finger on it, but it’ll be different with her. I can feel it.”

“Good luck. So, do you have your half of the rent?”

I reached into my nightstand and pulled out a wad of twenties bound together in a rubber band. “Here, count it.”

“I trust you.” He stuffed the roll into his sports jacket pocket. “What do you have planned this evening?”

I glanced at the clock beside my bed. “I have an hour left of practice before heading out for a private lesson. Tonight’s band practice. How about you?”

“Damn, you always have that guitar in your hand. Is it in bed when you…” He made an obscene gesture with his hand.

I chuckled. “You’re an idiot.”

      He put his hands up. “Hey, I wonder sometimes.”

“It takes work to make the big bucks.” I reached for the guitar.

He shook his head. “To each his own. Tonight I’ll be in bed with Yasmine, an insatiable woman while you…” Javan pointed at my guitar and laughed before disappearing down the hallway.

“Whatever, man.” I grinned and got back to work.

Chapter 8

The forest fire subsided, leaving the air breathable enough for families to spend Saturday outdoors.

I loved days like this. My usual work assignment kept me behind the scenes cleaning cages or assisting the veterinarians with routine checkups. Today, I worked in the children’s petting zoo. Watching children run along the gated area, their faces lit up with excitement, reminded me of my love for animals when I was younger.

The petting zoo held tame animals that were free to roam during the day and housed in stalls at night. My responsibilities included keeping the troughs full of food and water, and making sure the walking areas were free of waste. The job wasn’t glamorous, but I wouldn’t trade it for a thing.

I held my breath, scooped up a large pile of dung, and walked it across the yard to the compost pile.

“I don’t wanna touch it!”