Burning Desire

Chapter 9

Alex's green shirt was unbuttoned just enough to give a teasing view of his chest. Ten minutes of peripheral staring into our lunch, and he still hadn't noticed I was stealing glances and biting my lip over how nice he looked.

Alex was undeniably gorgeous. The waitress obviously agreed, practically drooling every time she came back to our table. I was having a hard time fighting the urge to tell her not to stare at other women's men. But he wasn't my man. Just like Jesse wasn't.

This was starting to feel more fucked up by the day. I decided I was going to need a girls' night with Selena and Kacey soon to discuss the tornado of boy issues that had recently begun whirling around in my head. On one hand, enjoying two men's company sounded like a phenomenal idea, considering I'd been all kinds of sexually frustrated for the past year, and I was still single, so they couldn't accuse me of cheating on either of them. But on the other hand, realistically speaking, I knew this couldn't go on forever, and someone could potentially get hurt in the end. I'd realized that when Alex had called me while I was with Jesse. How long could I keep hiding them from each other?

I glanced around the table, hoping nobody could tell what I was thinking. Selena knew me too well, though. She gave me a side-eye glance and I knew we'd be having that chat soon. I only hoped she'd be a good best friend and actually help me work through the problem, rather than egging me on to continue down this road. I knew she meant well. She only wanted me to have fun and feel better. But now that I was getting to know Jesse and Alex, I was seriously considering dating both of them, and I knew I couldn't do that at the same time. I would have to choose one or the other and it could get messy, especially since I didn't want anybody to get hurt.

We all looked underdressed, even for lunch at Chardonnay. Almost every other customer in the restaurant was wearing a business suit or dress, and I was wishing my red button-up and jeans would magically morph into something fancy and professional. Alex didn't seem to mind that he was the only person in the entire place wearing a hat, though.

For the majority of our time at the restaurant we'd been discussing my New York Times contest entry, trying to determine which story I should use. I was starting to think I wouldn't be able to decide on anything in time, considering it was Monday, and Tuesday was the deadline to enter.

"You should use the piece you did on ballet," Selena commented, taking a bite of her glazed mushroom chicken which looked so good, she almost didn't want to eat it.

Two years prior, I had written a story on various popular art forms. I'd included ballet as part of the list. I'd gone to local ballet schools and shows, watching for hours over the course of three weeks as the elegant dancers rehearsed and performed. I had never been a fan of ballet, really. It usually made me want to fall asleep. But when actually studying the art of ballet, it was kind of amazing to me to get lost in their world of classical music and graceful gestures. Each ballerina was perfectly poised. Even the beginners made minimal experience appear as though they'd had years of professional practice. It was like witnessing an amateur composer morph into Mozart in a matter of minutes. Almost effortless, yet so carefully conducted.

"I'll go back and read over it," I said, waving my fork as I spoke. "I might have to make a few changes. I don't know how I feel about that one. I want something that's going to really grab their attention, ya know?"

Selena shrugged. "It got my attention. I thought it was really good. I even saw The Nutcracker twice after reading that."

Really good didn't seem good enough, though.

"Maybe I should just write something totally new." I put my head in my hands, groaning.

Alex, who had been fairly quiet so far, spoke up. "I have an idea."