Just Like Heaven

  She's Exactly What She Needs

  Aila Glass

  Copyright © 2023 by Aila Glass

  All rights reserved.

  Editor: Heather E. Andrews

  Proofreader: Heather E. Andrews

  Cover Designer: Bookin' It Designs

  Copyright Notice: All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying and recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual person, living or dead, events or locals, are entirely coincidental.

  No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form without written permission from the publisher or author, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law.

  Contents

  1. Just Like Heaven

  Chapter 1: Keiko

  Chapter 2: Erin

  Chapter 3: Keiko

  Chapter 4: Keiko

  Chapter 5: Erin

  Chapter 6: Keiko

  Chapter 7: Keiko

  Chapter 8: Keiko

  Epilogue: Keiko

  2. Also By Aila Glass

  About Aila Glass

  Just Like Heaven

  Meet Keiko Pelletier — punk ho, loyal, introvert, sarcastic, and the tattoo artist of Just Like Heaven

  I’ve never been into dating that much. I liked men and women theoretically but not literally.

  Until her.

  Erin is sweet, a free spirit and my new neighbour. She is everything that I’m not and makes me want thing I never thought I wanted.

  I may have found the one. But the question is… does she feel the same?

  Just Like Heaven is a short opposites attract insta-love sapphic romance between a punk ho introvert and the bright eyed PhD student who takes her by surprise.

  Chapter 1: Keiko

  I take one last look around the tattoo parlour before locking it up. The warm evening air whips through my hair. I pull a hair tie off my wrist and pull my hair back into a messy ponytail before starting to walk home. The summer sun touches the horizon and lights the sky on fire. Orange clouds scatter the sky like cotton candy. It’s a perfect evening.

  I’ve been working at Atomic Tattoo Parlour for about five years. After college, I became an apprentice and got hired after a few years. Becoming a tattoo artist was my dream job. I love art and drawing and tattoos in particular. Something about permanently putting a piece of art on the body is ballsy and beautiful. I have a bunch of tattoos myself. Some I did myself, and some I got from co-workers.

  Each of us at the parlour has a different kind of aesthetic. Mika mostly does anime kind of tattoos. Axle does tattoos so realistic they almost look like a photograph instead of hand-inked art.

  My thing is more like Axle with realism, but I don’t do as much colour compared to him. I like black and dark tattoos. Dark purples, reds, and blues but primarily black. The tattoos I do match my personal look. Dark clothes, fishnet stockings, and combat boots. A regular punk ho but with fewer piercings.

  Another gust of wind hits me, and my Sex Pistols T-shirt shakes. Nothing like a burst of air up the shirt to make you wish you put on a bra. With peaked nipples, I walk the remaining ten blocks to my apartment and head inside.

  Taking two steps at a time, I charge up the stairs until I get to my floor. I notice a woman in the corner of my eye but pay no mind until I hear her curse and drop her keys.

  “Fuck,” she mutters to herself.

  I put my key in the lock, intending to leave her alone, but something compels me to ask. Probably because she looks new. No one’s been in that apartment for a year and a half.

  “Hey, are you okay?” I ask.

  As soon as she turns around, I gasp softly. My breath is taken away by the gorgeous blonde with a smile on her face.

  Fuck me.

  She’s tall, with long blonde hair and pouty lips I’d love to kiss with the bluest eyes I’ve ever seen. She’s objectively hot as fuck, wearing a white dress that goes to her knees and cinches at the waist, showing off her incredible figure.

  She smiles at me, a big smile full of light and joy. She waves her hand.

  “Hey. Yeah, I’m fine. My key isn’t working, though. And to top it off, my phone is out of battery. I was hoping to call the landlord. I tried to find his apartment, but I was so worried about bothering anyone if I got the wrong door I chickened out.” She sounds like a Southern angel. Her voice has a gentle twang in the way she speaks.

  “Oh, um, I’ll call him for you.” I turn the lock and let myself into my place.

  “Oh, my God. That would be amazing! Thank you,” she says, adjusting her bag slung over her shoulder.

  The mystery woman follows me in and shuts the door behind her. I pick up the phone and look at her as she stands there.

  She really is gorgeous. Having her in my apartment is making me feel some sort of way. Something I had never felt before.

  I dial Danny’s number, and he picks up on the fourth ring.

  “Hey Danny,” I say, and he grumbles a hello. “I’m calling because there’s a woman who can’t get into her apartment. She’s new.” I hold my hand over the speaker and mouth out, “What’s your name?”

  “Erin,” she whispers, “Erin Johansson.”

  I nod and tell Danny her name.

  “What number is she?” he asks, and I hear rustling on the other end.

  “She’s in 803,” I reply.

  She smiles. I badly want to drop this phone and pull her in so I can kiss those luscious lips. But I hold myself back and get back to the matter at hand.

  “Fine. I’ll be there to check it out. Give me a minute.” he says and hangs up. I put the phone down and smile at Erin.

  “He’ll be at your place in a few minutes.”

  “That’s awesome,” she says, and I love how she says awesome. She must be from the south somewhere, or maybe Alberta.

  She continues to smile at me, and I start wondering if I should say something else.

  “So… you’re new here?”

  “Yeah, I just moved here from Texas. I’m a PhD student. Environmental Science. I’m going to UBC now.” She taps her forehead and scoffs. “I totally meant to get everything moved during the day, but we got lost on the drive here, and then we caught the rush hour on the highway.” She licks her lips, and my hands grip my phone to keep them off her.

  “Well, I’m glad you found your way here,” I said.

  I open my mouth to ask her another question when I hear a crash behind me. Daisy looks up from behind a small table with a picture frame in her hand that she must’ve knocked over.

  “Oh, hello,” she says in her usual cheery way.

  She puts the frame back on the table and comes over to us. Erin smiles at her and reaches out to shake her hand. “Hi, I’m Erin. I just moved in.”

  “Hello, ‘Erin who just moved in.’ I’m Daisy. And you’ve met my roommate, Keiko.”

  Erin grinned at Daisy’s gag.

  “I didn’t get a name, but yes, we’ve met.” She giggles and sticks her hand out for a formal greeting.

  When her hand touches mine, I swear my knees almost buckle. Buckle! Her hand is soft and delicate. The kind of hands I’d love to feel against my cheek.

  My eyes travel from her hand up her long arms to her collarbone, where my eyes slide down to her chest. I watch it gently rise and fall. Her dress cups her breasts perfectly, two round globes, surely super soft. My hand twitches, and when I pull back, I feel the tingle of her touch still radiating off my hand.

  Oh, fuck. What’s happening to me? I’m not this kind of woman. I don’t fawn over people. I have occasional one-night stands for my health. I don’t think about delicate things like her soft hand against my cheek. If I meet a person at a bar and everything feels good, we have some rough sex, and that’s it. And usually, I keep the sex at the bar where we meet. It’s the “lock the bathroom door” type of sex. Now I’m thinking about what she’d look like tangled in my sheets as I bring her breakfast in bed.

  I feel a little nudge on my side from Daisy. Her face is contorted in confusion, and I realize Daisy must’ve asked me a question while I was thinking of Erin’s legs.

  “Sorry, what?” I don’t even try to hide it. I’m not a very good liar.

  “I was just saying,” Daisy says. “That if Erin needs help with her stuff, like boxes and furniture and whatever, she can come and ask you, right?”

  “Oh, yeah. Totally.” I’ll take any excuse to see this woman again.

  “That’s fantastic!” She claps her hands together. “Well, I’ll go wait for the landlord by my door for my key, and maybe if I need some help, I’ll call ya.” With a wave, she goes off, and I shut the door behind her.

  “Sounds like a nice girl,” Daisy says beside me.

  “Yeah,” I close the door and rub my face.

  I swear I can still smell her as I sit on the couch and turn on the TV.

  “She’s cute,” Daisy says. She looks at me with her arms crossed, waiting for me to respond.

  “Yeah. Sure.”

  “Oh, come on. You like her,” she teases.

  I roll my eyes. “Yeah? And your proof is what exactly?”

  She chuckles. “Well, you were staring at her tits. Longingly with a little bit of drool.”

  My hand instantly goes to my mouth. I’m not drooling, but just the thought that I might have sent butterflies in my stomach.

  But I’m a loner. A lone wolf. I‘ve never thought about dating. I barely do one-night stands, and Erin gives off relationship-girl vibes. Daisy keeps looking at me with that puppy dog look in her eyes.

  “Do you think they’re bigger than yours?” Daisy asks out of nowhere.

  “What?”

  “Her boobs. I think they may be bigger than yours,” Daisy says as casually as if she were talking about their eye colour.

  I stutter, wondering why the hell she’s bringing this up.

  “Oh, come on. Like… yours are like oranges, and hers are like… melons,” she says, demonstrating the size with her hands.

  “Oh, yeah? What are yours?” I say, getting up.

  She looks down at her chest and pokes at her tits.

  “Well, mine are clementines, but I’m knocked up, which means soon they’ll be those plastic bags of milk we get at the convenience store.”

  We laugh at the comparison, and then I head to my room.

  I sit at my desk and pull out my notebook and pencils. Even though I’ve been drawing all day, I like to come home and unwind by drawing with my pencils in my notebook. Simple things that I think of on my own only for me.

  My parents were archaeologists. They were always jetting from one country to the other, leaving me with my uncle, who I’m pretty sure didn’t know I was there half the time. I got used to being alone. And being left alone.

  I did visit my grandfather a lot. He introduced me to art. We used to go to art museums in Toronto. It was fun. One day we were walking down the street, and I saw a tattoo shop. Some tattoos they’d done were hanging on the window, mesmerizing me. It was the first time I realized what I wanted to do with my life.

  When I graduated high school, I went to art school in Vancouver and never left. I had a fantastic time meeting like-minded people who loved art as much as I did. That’s where I met Sarah, my other neighbour, who introduced me to Daisy. Well, technically, Daisy and I knew each other in Toronto. She’d been my friend since elementary school. We lost touch after high school because my parents finally took me on one of their trips. When I got back, she was going to another school, and now, after her divorce, she is my roommate.

  Recently the conversation of what to do when Daisy has the baby was brought up. It’s a pretty big apartment, so we can have her. It’d just be about convincing Daisy that she still needs us. She doesn’t have anyone to do this with but has difficulty asking for help.

  We have time, though, to figure this out.

  I look out the window of my room to the street below. Erin’s talking to the U-Haul guys while other guys bring in her stuff. It’s mostly cardboard boxes, then a lamp and a mattress. It’s dark now, and the street lamps illuminate her like a halo.

  My heart beats faster when she looks up at me from the street and waves. I wave back and sigh. I want to see her again and smell whatever that scent is. Vanilla, maybe? Whatever it is, it’s intoxicating. My fascination with this woman is beyond anything I’ve felt for anyone. I’ve never felt anything like this before.

  I look back down at the street, but she isn’t there. She’s probably carrying another box up to her new apartment.

  I wonder for a moment if I could gather up the guts to ask Erin out. Insecurity gnaws at me as I think of her rejecting me. She just moved countries and jobs, so she may not be in the mood. And I’m not sure I can have a one-night stand with her. Something tells me that I’m done for the second I touch her.

  I don’t know. Maybe I can try. What’s the worst that can happen?

  Oh, god. Don’t say that.

  Chapter 2: Erin

  I’m leaning against the door frame when Danny comes down the hall towards me. He’s grumpy and seems in a foul mood, so I give him my best smile to try and cheer him up.

  It doesn’t work, but I still smile to be polite.

  I explain to the landlord that I tried my key, but it wouldn’t go in. Turns out he didn’t give me the right key. So he gives me my key, and I start furnishing my apartment.

  My life has taken quite a turn in the last few months. I went from being in a relationship, my parents were in the country, work was going well, and my research on environmental and natural resources was going well.

  Then out of nowhere, my girlfriend of five months breaks up with me, my parents leave on some cruise, and I get fired from my part-time job. At least I still had my research.

  One day I was browsing the internet, and an opportunity in Vancouver presented itself, and I took it. I needed a fresh start anyway, and now instead of getting a part-time job, I can work for the university.

  I put my bag on the floor and look at the empty apartment before me.

  Fresh start. Yeah, this is going to be good.

  The movers start putting my stuff from the U-Haul into my apartment. They lugged my bed frame in pieces, the mattress, tables and drawers, as well as a bunch of boxes of clothes and books. It’s sad as I sit in the middle of ten boxes that my entire life can fit into a small truck.

  It makes sense, though. I’ve spent most of my life in school, researching and reading. I’m not a knick-knack person, but I’m 32. I should’ve more stuff than this.

  I take a deep breath, stop moping around, turn on some music, and start unpacking my life. I first tackle the hundreds of books I have. I don’t have shelves yet, so I stack the books in towers on the floor under some large windows. After I’ve emptied out those boxes, I clean the drawers and put my clothes inside.

  I’m going to have to buy some new ones, though. I’m used to sunny Texas, where it doesn’t get cold. Now I’m in Canada, where it can get to zero degrees. I’ve been told Vancouver is warmer compared to the rest of Canada, but I’ll still need some winter coats.

  The sun is just setting outside, and I still have to put my bed frame together.

  Keiko.

  She offered to help me. Or at least her roommate said she’d help me.

  Maybe I’ll go up to see if she’d like to help me. I’ve done everything else.

  Yeah, I’m totally going up there just for help.

  I don’t know what it is about her, but my heart flutters when I see her. She’s unlike any girl I’ve ever met. Most of the women I’ve dated have been high-energy-happy hippy people wearing bright clothes they either got from a local store or made themselves. Women like me.

  Keiko is the opposite. Her energy was lower, more casual. She was wearing a band T-shirt. Not sure who the band is, but I make a mental note to check them out. Maybe I’ll find my new favourite band. She also wore fishnet stockings, a leather mini-skirt, black combat boots and black eyeliner. Very goth, but the way she smiled was light and made my toes curl. I find myself getting tingly all over thinking about her.

  I promised myself that I wouldn’t date for a while. After all, I just broke up with someone. But Keiko has me reconsidering.

  I check myself in the mirror before I go. My hair is a mess from the craziness of today, so I take out the tie and put my hair in a bun. I splash water on my face, take my key, and step outside. As I close my door, I notice two men standing and talking at Keiko’s door.

  One of the guys bangs against the door. They’re both handsome, fit men. Something akin to jealousy knocks at me. One of these has to be the boyfriend, right?

  “Hey,” I wave, and they both give me a nod.

  One of them is taller than the other by a couple inches. The taller man has dark hair and a beard and is dressed in dark jeans, a T-shirt, and a leather jacket. The other is clean-shaven with slicked-back hair, wearing a suit and glasses.

  Based on their looks, I assume that the leather jacket man is her boyfriend. People who wear leather like other people who wear leather, right?

  They keep staring at me, and I realize they have no idea why I’m here.

  “I was just seeing if Keiko was home. She offered to help me unpack. I’m new here.” I shuffle on my feet, and then Keiko’s door opens.

 

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