Chapter 9:
Taylor lay on the bed in his new room, staring up at the ceiling. Ever since his encounter with Mason that morning, he'd felt more or less confined to his bedroom. The atmosphere in the apartment was noticeably tense and awkward, and he knew that was mostly his doing. Part of him was still angry at Mason for not being upfront about her relationship with Alexa, and the other part of him was ashamed by how he'd reacted.
He truly couldn't believe that this was what his life had become. Moving from one hiding place to another, seized by fear and obstacles at every turn. The old Taylor lived life to its fullest and had endless amounts of positive energy and passion. He used to be so proud of who he was and really believed he had it all: a successful career, a close-knit family, and a beautiful wife who loved him. But lately, so many pieces of him seemed to be slipping away, and he wondered if that person even existed anymore.
A soft knock at the door startled him and he quickly sat up and grabbed a book off the nightstand, pretending to be lost inside of a story instead of his confusing sea of thoughts.
A few moments passed and the door opened slowly, revealing Alexa in the doorway in a red CBGB tank top and a pair of low-rise jeans that hung from her small hips. Her hair was pulled into a loose ponytail, several strands falling into her eyes, having escaped from beneath the rubber band.
"I'm thinking about ordering dinner soon," she said as she lingered by the entrance as if afraid to fully enter the room. "Are you hungry?"
"I could eat," he said, setting the book down at the edge of the bed.
"You like Ayn Rand?" Alexa asked, sounding surprised. She stepped into the room and picked up the thick paperback he was pretending to read.
He nodded. Even though he hadn't actually been reading when she entered the room, Atlas Shrugged was one of his favorite books. It was one of the only novels he could read multiple times over the years and not get tired of.
"Wow, I wouldn't have guessed that about you," she said. "So do I."
"Just because I didn't go to college doesn't mean I don't know literature. Or philosophy," he said, his voice low and defensive.
"Whoa there." Alexa let the book drop from her hands and stared at him, wary curiosity flickering through her hazel eyes. "I never said that, did I? All I meant was I've never met a guy who has the same taste in books as I do."
"Sorry," Taylor said, once again feeling foolish for letting his hot-headed nature get the best of him. He ran his fingers through his hair and returned her gaze, trying to calm his nerves. "There's a lot on my mind, and I seem to be taking it out on everyone around me."
"I'll try not to hold it against you," Alexa said with a small smile, sitting down on the bed beside him.
Taylor found himself smiling in return. He was lucky to have found such understanding people who put up with him during such a crazy time in his life.
"So, what were you saying about dinner?" he asked.
"Well, since Mason is working tonight and cooking isn't exactly my strong suit, I was thinking about ordering a pizza," she said.
"I could definitely go for some pineapple and onion pizza right about now," Taylor said, his mouth watering at the thought. He hadn't realized how hungry he was.
"Okay, that's just freaky," she said.
"I know it sounds weird, but it's so good," he said. "Although my brothers think I'm crazy for liking it."
"No, I meant it's freaky because that's the exact type of pizza I always used to order," she said, laughing. "I haven't had it in forever, though. Mason can't stand pineapples or onions, and the idea of both of them together grosses her out."
"Is there a grocery store nearby?" he asked, a plan hatching in his mind.
"Yeah. Why?"
"Let's make a pizza instead of ordering take-out," he said.
Alexa's eyes widened as if he'd just casually suggested that they take a trip to outer space.
"I don't know about that, Taylor," she said slowly. "I'll probably poison both of us if I try to make dinner. I'm an awful cook."
"Well, I'm a decent one, so I'll show you how it's done," he said. "Pizza is so easy to make, and it tastes a hundred times better when it's homemade."
Alexa continued eyeing him skeptically.
"C'mon, it'll be fun," Taylor insisted. "Consider this our first real roommate bonding experience."
"Okay, fine," Alexa relented, the smile on her face letting him know that he'd won. "But if we burn the place down while we're making dinner tonight, I'm telling Mason that it was all your fault."
"Deal," he said, laughing.
* * * * * * * * *
Cooking with Alexa went much more smoothly than Taylor thought it would. She was a fast learner and was more capable in the kitchen than she believed herself to be. Feeling ambitious, they even decided to make the pizza sauce from scratch, adding a splash of wine and some crushed red pepper to the sauce to give it an extra kick.
While the pizza baked in the oven, Taylor and Alexa moved to the living room, each with a glass of wine in hand. Taylor couldn't remember the last time he'd cooked with someone else, but he knew it was with Melanie. Yet strangely enough, making dinner with Alexa didn't cause any unwanted memories to resurface. Sharing the domestic task with Mason's girlfriend felt oddly natural and liberating. Maybe, just maybe, he was finally on the road to a fresh start.
"Penny for your thoughts," Alexa said, placing her wine glass on the coffee table.
"I was just wondering how you and Mason...got together," Taylor said. That wasn't really what he'd been thinking, but he was curious about their history and saw no harm in asking.
"I saw her walk into the bar one night and thought, damn, I'm taking that fine piece of ass home with me tonight," she said, a playful glimmer in her eyes.
Taylor swallowed his wine in a loud, hurried gulp and raised his eyebrows at her.
"I'm kidding," she said. "We met through mutual friends. We were just friends at first, but one thing led to another and soon we became...whatever we are."
"And what is that, exactly?" he asked.
Alexa shifted her eyes away from his and took a sip of wine to fill the silence. She seemed slightly uncomfortable talking about her relationship with Mason. Taylor had to admit that he liked making her squirm, to a certain degree.
"Well, she's my girlfriend, and my best friend," she said. "And obviously, we live together so things are pretty serious now."
"I have to say, I feel like an idiot for not realizing that you two are dating," Taylor said. "I guess I've been so obsessed with my own problems lately that I haven't been paying much attention to anything else."
"Well, you do have a lot going on right now. I don't think anyone can blame you for being a little distracted," she said. "I really thought Mason told you about us, though. I'm sorry you had to find out the way you did. It must be weird to discover that your ex-girlfriend has a new girlfriend."
"It was definitely surprising," Taylor said. "But I want you and Mason to know that I don't think it's weird for two women to like each other. I mean, I'm not a homophobe, you know?"
"That's good to know. Although I don't consider myself to be homosexual," she said. "I've dated plenty of guys in the past, but I was never opposed to the idea of dating a girl. For me, it's all about the chemistry and connection, which is what I have with Mason."
Taylor stared down into his half-empty wine glass, suddenly feeling very sad. Alexa had just described what he used to have with Melanie. He missed feeling so closely attached to another person; he'd shared so many intimate, unforgettable experiences with Melanie over the years, and they knew each other completely. Or at least, he thought they did.
In an attempt to rid his mind of those heavy thoughts, Taylor shook his head and drank the rest of his wine in silence. When he looked up, he caught Alexa's gaze and thought he saw something, a glimmer of recognition and understanding - or was it just pure sympathy? - swimming in her eyes. But before she could speak, the kitchen timer rang loudly through the apartment, bringing her to her feet.
"Pizza's ready," she announced, before turning on her heel and walking away.