by Pamela Ann
“What did you just say?” Drew’s nonchalant demeanor cracked as he eyed me like I had completely lost my mind.
“Yeah, what am I going to do with your sexy, hunky, cheating ass?”
His brows shot up quickly before his face broke into a massive grin. “Oh, I’m cheating on you, now am I?” He laughed so hard you would wonder if it were the first time he had heard a joke before.
Unexpectedly, he reached out to cup my face with both his hands, squishing it almost. “Ah, Chlo, what am I going to do with you? You’re crazier when drunk.”
Smiling with my eyes halfway shut, I let out a small, breathy statement. “And horny, too.” I just had to add that enlightening tidbit. “Very, very much.”
“Then it’s a good thing those Latino men brought you home safely. ’Cause if they didn’t, you’d probably jump on the first straight man you saw.”
“Crazy, yeah, but I’m not a loose hoochie-coochie. Only slept with one guy, not planning to add another dickhead just yet.” After the words rushed out of my lips, I realized what I had uttered a moment too late.
Awkward and consciously aware of my huge blunder, I tried to play it off, but the strained expression on my face gave away how truly embarrassed I was.
“I’ll pretend you didn’t just insult me,” he stated before those mesmerizing blue eyes probed further into me. “Are you serious about the last part? There’s just been me and no one else?”
“Oh, yeah … just that little fucker.” I pointed my finger toward his penis. “Right there.” I snickered, wanting this situation to be less serious than he was making it out to be. Besides, he might come up with some whacked up theory, thinking God knew what.
“Why haven’t you …? I mean …” His intense eyes flickered back and forth. “Did I put you off sex or something? I wasn’t too rough, was I? I don’t recall it being bad.”
In what world did he imagine he had put me off sex? As far as I was concerned, my begging for another round should satisfy that question. If anything, I would say he had made me into a sexually aware woman. Since Drew seemed too keen on the subject, though, I thought I might as well tease him a little. The guy could do with being pulled down from his godly status a peg or two.
“It was fucking awful. It gave me nightmares. Terrifying shit, I tell ya.”
His face grew more serious before he realized what the massive, shit-eating grin was for. “You’re just messing with my head now.” He blew a breath of relief. “For a moment, I really thought I hurt you or something much more serious …”
You left me with serious heartbreak and a huge dent of my self-worth and confidence. Did those count? Somehow, I doubted it. Men saw it as sex, plain and simple. Women, on the other hand, deemed it far more precious, most especially their first.
The tone became subdued between us. He offered to help me to my room then onto the bathroom to wash up and get ready for bed. He promised to wait out in the bedroom while I did my womanly business. Needless to say, it was quite an experience to be drunk and hopping around while naked.
I had kept a few of his shirts and made them into my sleep shirts. Not only were they comfortable, but the very thought of having something of his while I slept made me feel safe and connected to him.
Makeup off and all washed up, I opened the door, only donning one of his black crew neck shirts that stopped a few inches below my cheeks.
The sight of him leaning against the wall, frowning at his phone as if something bothered him, made me wonder whom it was he was going to see tonight. It had to be the woman who had left her lipstick on his neck so they could finish where they’d left off. She was probably waiting for him. Would he make a joke out of it as an explanation for why he had run later than planned? It was a sad thought.
“Going somewhere?” My voice broke him out his intense scrutiny, and he finally looked up to see me standing against the doorframe.
“Yeah, I came home to pick up something really quick …”
What? Like condoms? I almost asked, but I preferred to be oblivious.
“Put me to sleep before you go?” My request surprised me more than it did him. With the alcohol running amuck in my veins, my emotions had been triggered, amplified to the maximum.
His eyes heatedly took in my bare legs, brushing up my thighs then the plunging neckline that didn’t do much to hide my cleavage. “I’m already running late …” he meekly argued.
“Please?”
Conflicted, he closed his eyes before blowing out a breath while he seemed as though he were contemplating his chances. It took him a good thirty seconds before he finally opened those marvelous depths of his. “Five minutes, and then I’ve gotta go.”
Five minutes was perfect.
“Whatever floats your boat, mister.”
A nervous laugh came from him as he approached and gave me little notice before he scooped me up and carried me to the bed. He was getting the hang of lifting me up.
Once he switched the lamp light off, he then slid on the other side of the bed before I felt his shoulder touch mine.
“Drew?”
“Hmm?”
“I love you.” It wasn’t news. I had told him this time and time again while growing up, but tonight, my heart ached to tell him for some reason.
“Good night, cupcake.”
“Good night.”
★
It was Friday night, and after reading messages from Manolo and Chuey, inviting me to come see them again tonight, I decided that would be pushing it. Not only was I suffering from the worst migraine of the century, but I was also dehydrated. Nothing I drank could quench my thirst, nor was there anything that could make this dry patch behind my throat retain moisture. Maybe it was all the strain I had put my body through for the past few weeks. Those painkillers were strong, and they might be wreaking havoc on my system. Or maybe I simply needed some downtime and extra sleep.
Even though I had fallen asleep almost the moment my head touched the pillow, my dreams had been riddled with the past. It kept haunting me, provoking me to take some measure, some risks. It was no wonder I was in a jumbled state. A chaotic mind meant body unrest.
I was in the midst of making grilled cheese when my phone rang with Spencer’s name flashing on the screen.
“Hello, hello.” A soft smile crossed my face as I licked the butter off my fingers, placing the call on speaker so it would be easier for me to maneuver.
“What are you up to these days? It’s been ages since I’ve heard from you.” His typical jovial, flirty tone drifted from the speaker, making me pause before flipping the sandwich to the other side.
“Pft, you know me; I’m quite the busy bee. What’s up, Spence?” Everyone here knew I had nothing else going on but school, so it was becoming a joke when I pretended.
“Just thought you might like some company. We can order in some pizza and have some champagne while watching a movie. Heck, throw in some chick flicks if you like; I don’t mind really. Whatever your preference is, it’s also mine.”
Pizza and champagne? How unlike me, but I was all for new experiences. Besides, I had been preaching to myself about how I needed to get a move on in my life. This was a good time to practice it, to try to really move on.
“Pizza and champagne sounds like a blast. How does eight sound?”
“It sounds perfect. See you at eight.”
“See ya,” I happily responded before cutting the call.
Tonight ought to be interesting. Aside from Drew’s profound protestation, I kind of liked him. He wasn’t bad-looking, far from it. He had that affluent punk, rock star, chic-like style, which was part of his charm.
Spencer was the total opposite of Drew. Whereas Drew was ripped and honed, Spencer was lean and couldn’t care less about working out. And since I had declared there must be change, I had yet to figure out what type of men would interest me.
I still had three hours until Spencer was due, so I decided to take my time while getting ready. I woul
d have preferred to be in leggings or something much more comfortable than a dress, but it was the easiest option for me. Bohemian chic was the look I aimed for tonight with an off the shoulder, white lace dress topped with a gold chain headpiece embellished with tiny rice pearls and crystals. The headpiece might be overdoing it, though. Then, skipping the sandals, I simply walked around barefoot, showcasing my yellow painted toes.
Jackson and Drew had gone to a pre-season Knicks game, so it would seem like I had this place all to myself. I was surprised they had taken the time to hangout. Jacks had been so preoccupied with this chick Yvonne, whom I had yet to meet. And as for Drew, I wasn’t sure where he went off to. Nevertheless, he was seldom home.
There were a lot of holes, and piecing the story together hadn’t gotten me anywhere. Neither of them were talking, which led me to believe that maybe they’d just had a falling out. Jacks had admitted he’d had a hard time finding his way, while Drew had his future mapped out. Could it be jealousy? I wouldn’t have considered it before since those two had shared every toy, every sport, every game—anything I could think of. Then again, with Drew paving his way toward his goals and Jacks lagging behind, that could put a huge strain upon a friendship. No matter how strong the bond, it only took one thing to break it.
Something told me that, before I had come to live here, they’d had a lot of parties in the apartment. However, since I was a girl, Jacks and Drew, who were protective of me to a fault, didn’t want to surround me with drunken people at all hours of the night,. Courtney, my best friend, used to call them fuckboy pansies. Both were “fuckboys” but were “pansies” where I was concerned.
Drew had always been worse than Jackson ever was. If Jacks had tried to warn some boy back in high school about going out with me, Drew would take it to another level. He was the type ready to battle it out just to make a point.
Courtney had a way with words. Bright, quick wit, beach blonde with a tongue sharper than a knife. She was always at war with Jackson. My poor brother got whiplash each time he tried to win an argument with her. She was the epitome of Queen Bee. If she weren’t my friend, it would be wise of me to stay the fuck away from her. It was a good thing she had met someone; it had mellowed her out somehow. Not a whole lot, just enough that someone could mistake her as friendly.
She was quite a character, one I secretly admired because she went after what she wanted. She was fearless like that. That was why it had sort of saddened me when she’d settled in San Diego just to be close to her boyfriend. It was very unlike her. Then again, she had changed since things had gotten serious with him.
I hoped to God I wouldn’t get so caught up in another person if I ever got involved with anyone. I wouldn’t know what to do with myself. With how I already was with Drew, I had to wonder how I would be once I started dating someone. It could get terrifying if I gave it my all and then got my heart broken for the second time.
The doorbell chimed loudly, ending the miserable thoughts that had plagued my mind for the past hour. Spencer was dressed like the men from a Ralph Lauren catalogue, emitting old money, which wasn’t surprising when he had told me his parents lived in the Hamptons.
Cali rich folks compared to New Yorkers were a whole different playing field. Here, it meant global economy, while the former were geared toward local and national economy. The stark difference was alarming.
As I put those contrasting thoughts aside, Spencer came in with two bottles of Cristal and an extra-large pepperoni and cheese pizza.
“You brought not one but two? I hope you don’t have any designs to get me drunk, because I’m on some strong meds. Mix that in with alcohol, and you might not like the result. My mouth tends to run until your ears bleed.”
“I’ll consider myself forewarned.”
Spencer was kind when it came to making sure that my injured foot was always on a cushion. It was an unexpected surprise, and I began to like him more as the man himself and not the person who had been painted for me by other people’s opinions.
Drew had cautioned me about Spencer’s only interest being the thrill of the chase, but I was on the fence on that one, not knowing him well enough to form my own belief yet. For now, I had concluded that Drew’s advice should be taken with a grain of salt.
As chick flicks went, I chose something that leaned toward drama with a side of temptation, regret, and cheating. The movie Last Night starring Kiera Knightly and Sam Worthington got me in all sorts of twisted emotions. My tears were unstoppable as I watched Joanna and Alex, the boy she fell in love with while studying abroad in Paris. It was one of those rare moments when you were so invested in the story, in the characters, that you experienced what they went through, gripping you. It evoked such powerful emotions that I bawled until I could no longer tolerate Spencer’s teasing.
“There’s still half a box of tissues left. What’s next?” Spencer grinned before popping another champagne bottle. We had gone through the first one while eating the pizza.
Scrolling through the movie list, I was wiping the moisture off the side of my eyes when Drew entered the living room, shocking Spencer and me into an awkward silence. I could feel the tension radiate off him in powerful waves.
“I didn’t hear you come in,” I said, glancing at him, hoping he wouldn’t cause a scene. Spencer’s name alone never failed to bring out the Neanderthal in him.
Drew’s face was a dark mask. With one look at him, you would know he was a ticking bomb, waiting for the right time to explode.
Before Drew had the chance to speak, Spencer cleared his throat. “You’re more than welcome to join us on our date night, but I’m sure you have better things to do than be a third wheel.” Spencer’s remark could easily be portrayed as showing off wanting to drill it into Drew’s head.
“Date night? Since when the fuck did you begin dating this shithead, Chloe?” he roared so loudly my ears literally rang.
My holy hell. He had just gone straight in there, guns blazing, ready for a showdown.
“Drew—”
“Shithead? Who the fuck do you think you are, calling me names? You better fucking recognize, or I’ll make you regret it!” Spencer chided, turning red from anger.
I saw Drew take a few steps toward me. I flashed my eyes at him in warning him, wanting him to stay away. He looked like he was ready to pummel Spencer to the ground.
“Stop it! You guys need to fucking stop!”
The warning barely made a dent. Drew’s attention was honed in behind me, straight on Spencer.
“Your words don’t hold any weight,” he spat out. “Why don’t you come here and threaten it to my face instead of yelling across the room like the skinny, little bitch you are!”
“The only little bitch here is you, crying foul that I fucked one of your chicks and she loved it so much she asked for it twice. She practically seduced me to fuck her. I only took what she freely offered. It’s no one’s fault but yours if you can’t satisfy your women. If you don’t like being dropped, that’s your issue. Don’t take it out on me,” Spencer sneered, egging him on further.
“If getting a woman drunk so you can get her to fuck you is seducing to you, then you’re more of a sick fuck than I imagined!” The veins on the side of Drew’s neck became apparent, a surefire sign he was about to blow a gasket.
“You think you’re all that because of who you are now.” Spencer cruelly laughed at him. “Fucking watch out, Cavendish; you’re stepping in the wrong fucking territory!”
Drew scoffed, “Save the speech when you have the balls to back it up.”
“I’m here with Chloe, and trust me, she and I aren’t done yet. We barely just began,” Spencer stated, goading Drew to react by staking his claim.
Not only were Drew’s neck muscles tightened now, but he was also flexing his hands, readying for a massive impact to someone’s face. “You better leave, or I won’t be able to stop myself from beating your ass to the floor. And stay the fuck away from Chloe, or so help me God, I’m
coming after you with everything I’ve got.”
“Fuck you!” Spencer growled before he took hold of my arm, getting my attention. “You don’t have to fucking listen to this lowlife! He’s just jealous. Don’t let him bully you into kicking me out of here. Fuck, we can go to my place if you like. That’ll solve everything. Come on, let’s get the fuck out of here, Chloe.” He was lightly tugging me toward him, almost making me lose my balance.
“I can make up my own mind, so stop telling me what to do!” I yelled at the both of them. “You better leave, Spencer. I think I’m done for tonight. This stupid competition between who’s better at this or whatever … You guys need to shut the fuck up. I know gay men who have more guts than the both of you combined! So please, get over it because I sure as hell am.”
Spencer blew out a breath before muttering an apology and a promise to text me when things died down before taking his leave.
It had been frustrating to watch them exchange spiteful words as if I hadn’t been there, right between them. Had my foot been fine, I wouldn’t have stopped myself from slapping them silly. They had deserved it. Not only was it disrespectful, but they needed to understand that women weren’t possessions.
It was absurd to witness Drew a beat away from losing it. I had seen it before when he and Jackson had gotten into brawls. Drew won most of the time; that was why no one had liked to mess with him back in our high school. When he fought, he fought with everything.
Now my eyes lingered on him while he avoided my gaze. I wasn’t sure why, but I hoped it was due to embarrassment more than anything else.
“What did he mean by ‘because of who you are now’?” That line had stayed with me. The way Spencer had stated it, as though Drew thought he was better than anyone, as if it were all a farce. It was confusing to be stuck in the middle while being kept in the dark.
