Better Than Okay

by Jacinta Howard

  “I just need another drink, “she said, answering Raven’s questioning look.

  She motioned for the bartender and ordered four vodkas and cranberries.

  “You gotta get out of your head, Tweety,” Raven said, leaning her elbows on the bar counter as she looked at her.

  “I can’t,” she replied simply. “I think I’m in love with him.”

  She stared blankly at the colorful liquor bottles that were lining the back of the bar area. Saying it aloud made it real and dangerous. Raven squealed, jumping up and down in her stilettos. Until that very moment, Destiny would’ve considered jumping in stilettos to be an impossible feat for anyone not named Beyoncé.

  “It’s not good, Ray,” she snapped. “I can’t be what he needs, not now.”

  “Destiny…”she started.

  “Seriously. I didn’t tell you I like, spazzed out the other night. We were kissing and then I just started having these flashbacks in the middle of it. I couldn’t breathe and I had to go take another shower. You should’ve seen the look on his face. He was freaked out. And he should’ve been.”

  She looked up as the bartender arrived and she thanked him, pulling her card out of her bra.

  “I got it,” Raven shook her head and dug her card out of her purse. “Brian is in love with you, Destiny,” she said after the bartender returned her card. “It’s so obvious to anyone who sees you two together. Hell, it’s been obvious since I’ve known you. He wants to be there for you. Let him.”

  Destiny released a frustrated breath. Raven didn’t get it. It wasn’t that easy. Nothing was that simple anymore. She grabbed two of the drinks, heading back toward their couch. She paused as she approached, causing Raven to nearly spill the drinks she was holding on her when she almost rammed into her back.

  “You’ve got to be freaking kidding me,” Destiny breathed aloud. She glanced back at Raven and nodded toward their couch. “It’s Pink Dress and Loud Girl.”

  Raven gave them the once over, familiar with who they were after one of Destiny’s rants about them, and then shrugged.

  “You know you have nothing to worry about, Tweety.”

  Destiny released a breath and scowled. “I’m just tired of her being everywhere.”

  Raven shook her head. “When we get there, sit on his lap,” she said conspiratorially. “Come on.”

  They made their way back to the couches.

  “Clarence, your libations,” Raven smiled, handing a glass to Dorian with a small curtsy.

  “Thanks, Chipmunk,” he replied easily.

  Destiny gave the extra drink in her hand to Brian. Loud Girl had taken it upon herself to sit next to him, in the seat she had just occupied.

  “Thanks,” he said, meeting her eyes. He started to motion for Loud Girl to get up but Destiny shook her head and perched herself on the armrest, crossing her legs. Loud Girl didn’t bother speaking so she didn’t either. She looked Destiny up and down and shifted herself closer to Brian. Destiny pressed her drink to her lips, downing half of it. Numbness. That was the mission.

  “Chipmunk, this is Amber. Amber, Chipmunk,” Dorian said, waving a hand between them.

  He took a swig of his drink. Raven smiled at Pink Dress, who was actually wearing mint green tonight.

  “Chipmunk?” she asked curiously, studying Raven.

  “It’s Raven,” she replied, casually seating herself on the edge of couch. “So, you guys just happened to be here too?”

  Raven threw a look at Destiny as she said it and she knew it was for her benefit. Pink Dress nodded and Raven smiled brightly.

  “Coolness! Well, it’s so nice to finally meet you. Dorian’s told me so much about you. He’s always going on and on about how much you mean to him!”

  Dorian tossed her a murderous look and Pink Dress beamed. Raven managed to look innocent as she smiled at Dorian. Destiny knew she was trying hard not to laugh. If there was anything Dorian hated, it was girls who had the audacity to catch feelings for him. Keep it casual; keep it moving. That was his motto. He glared at Raven as she chatted it up with Pink Dress, going overboard with the friendly conversation.

  Destiny glanced at Brian who had sat forward in his seat, his elbows on his knees. He was staring a hole through her but she looked away and pretended not to notice. She downed the rest of her drink just as the DJ smoothly mixed out of Michael Jackson and Prince’s “U Got the Look” came on. Loud Girl instantly started gyrating in her seat like a hooker.

  “OMG, I love this song!” she exclaimed, her voice carrying over all of space and time. “Come and dance with me Bri!”

  Bri? Did she seriously just call him Bri? Destiny watched as Loud Girl stood and grabbed Brian’s hand. She felt sick to her stomach. But she didn’t say anything. Loud Girl wasn’t broken. She wouldn’t freak out when he touched her. Brian pulled his hand back, frowning, his eyes on Destiny.

  “You should go dance, Bri,” Destiny pressed him, standing quickly. She nearly toppled over and she steadied herself with a hand on the armrest. “I am.”

  Destiny turned without waiting for anyone’s reaction and maneuvered her way through the swelling crowd toward the dance floor. The drink was strong and since she downed it so quickly she was already feeling fuzzy. And numb. Just like she wanted. She wished vodka could make her disappear completely because that’s what she really wanted, to disappear. She stumbled, bumping into happy, dancing people who barely noticed. Their bodies pressed against hers as she tried to navigate her way toward the back of the dance floor. She could feel herself starting to panic at all of the accidental contact.

  Someone reached out and grabbed her waist and she froze, her heart in her throat. She turned to see some guy pushing up on her. His eyes were brown and glazed. Her breath was coming quicker and she started to move away but he held onto her, pulling her against him as he backed her into the wall. She looked around frantically. Everyone was dancing zombie-like, the neon lights flashing a hundred times a minute on their drunken faces and she felt like she was in the middle of hell.

  She squirmed against him, trying to break free of his grasp but he must’ve thought she was dancing because he wouldn’t let her go, he just kept trying to pull her closer. Once upon a time, a random guy grabbing her to dance in the middle of a crowded club wouldn’t have been a big deal. But that was before.

  Now all she could feel was his hands on her, his weight. All she could see was his eyes. She was hyperventilating. She gulped in air quickly, inhale after inhale, but she couldn’t push the air back out. His hands were on her waist and she couldn’t get away. All of the self-defense moves she’d been learning at the Y escaped her and she couldn’t get away.

  Someone was pulling at her arm. She was shaking her head no, repeating it over and over again as she was pulled against another chest.

  “Destiny!” It was Brian, yelling her name.

  She collapsed into him, grateful, as she sucked in air, trying to calm her breathing. She was sticky and wet with sweat.

  “Just calm down… breathe… just breathe…” he whispered gently in her ear, holding her close.

  “What the fuck, bro?” the guy she’d be been dancing with, if that’s what you could call it, pushed Brian’s shoulder. “I had her first.”

  Before she could even muster up a proper reaction to being insulted, she was being shoved behind Brian’s back. He grabbed the guy and slammed him forcefully into the wall, his movements speedy and precise as he twisted the guy’s arm behind his back.

  “You touch her again, I’ll break your fucking fingers off.”

  His voice was even and controlled and he twisted the guys arm, holding onto his wrist even harder. After a few long seconds he released him.

  “Jesus, relax, bro,” the guy was saying as he shook his arm out. He glared at Brian then looked away quickly, clearly shaken.

  Brian turned and grabbed her by the elbow leading her toward the exit. Her breathing was still choppy and she was having a hard time focusing. She drew i
n a breath once they hit the warm, thick air outside. She was pacing, ignoring the line of people who were still waiting to get inside of the lounge. She felt Brian’s eyes on her as she gathered herself. Her heart rate had started to slow and she finally looked at him, which was a mistake because the fury in his eyes was even scarier than the drunken panic attack she’d just experienced.

  “Come on,” he ordered, grabbing her elbow again, ushering her toward one of the cabs that was waiting at the curb. “Can you walk?”

  She nodded, wondering why he’d even asked her that. He was practically dragging her and obviously could care less about her answer anyway. He opened the door for her and pushed her inside, climbing in behind her.

  “What about Raven?” she asked, managing to speak for the first time.

  He fixed a look on her. “She’s with Dorian. She’s fine.” He leaned forward and gave the driver directions before leaning back against the seat. He looked out of the window then at her, his eyes flashing with anger.

  “What the fuck was that, Destiny?”

  She jerked back, her eyes widening. He’d never cursed at her like that. Ever. Even when she’d accidentally wrecked his car the day after he got it his senior year. Of course, it was just a fender bender, but still. He stared at her for a second then shook his head when she didn’t respond, glaring out of his window again. Neither one of them said anything for the rest of the twenty minute drive to his apartment.

  When they pulled up to his complex he paid the cabby and thanked him, then held the door open for her, pulling her out of the cab. He held onto her as they walked to his door, since at this point, she was stumbling. She’d wanted to be numb. Instead she was drunk. He pushed her inside of the house and locked the door behind him then grabbed her elbow again, pulling her toward the kitchen. He sure was pushy when he was pissed.

  “You sure are pushy when you’re pissed,” she said aloud, giggling.

  He looked at her and she scowled then giggled again. He didn’t respond as he grabbed a bottle of water from the refrigerator. He twisted the cap off and handed it to her.

  “Drink this.”

  She did as she was told, gulping down half of the bottle. She didn’t realize how thirsty she was. She wiped her mouth and looked at him. Damn he was fine.

  “Your eyelashes are so long. You look like a Calvin Klein model,” she told him, nearly falling as she backed herself against the kitchen counter.

  He shook his head, his expression still grim. “Drink more.”

  She pressed the bottle to her lips again, doing as she was told. He seemed satisfied when the bottle was nearly gone and he took it from her and sat it on the counter. He stared at her, his features tight.

  “What?” she exclaimed, trying to sound irritated. She was pretty sure her speech was slurred at this point. He continued to stare at her, then ran a hand over his head.

  “You can sleep in my bed,” he said finally, his voice void of emotion.

  “And where will you sleep?” she asked, tilting her head. Her eyes traveled from his eyelashes—everything started at his eyelashes—down to his sexy lips, to his chest.

  He stared at her, shifting his weight. “On the couch.”

  She shook her head, her hair falling over her shoulders. She ran her fingers through it then steadied herself, bracing her hands on the counter behind her.

  “I don’t want you to,” she said, returning his stare. “Sleep on the couch, I mean. You should sleep in your own bed.”

  He sighed, irritability written all over his face.

  “Am I killing you again?” she teased, grinning.

  “Yes,” he said starkly.

  He pushed himself off of the counter. “Come on.”

  He nodded for her to follow him and once again, she did as she was told. He entered his room and flicked on the light.

  “I guess you need a shirt or something,” he said as she stood in the middle of the room, trying desperately not to tip over.

  She watched him head to his neat dresser and open a drawer. He pulled out a plain white t-shirt then crossed the room and handed it to her. She took it and held it to her face, sniffing it like the dork that she was. It smelled like him. Despite his obvious agitation the corners of his mouth quirked up a little then he shook his head again.

  “Goodnight, Destiny,” he said.

  He headed toward the door without glancing back at her.

  “Wait,” she practically yelled. She kicked off her heels and headed for the door, blocking the entrance.

  “Don’t leave yet,” she said. “Don’t leave at all. Okay?”

  “I need to,” he said, looking down at her. He pushed her gently to the side so that her back was steady against the wall, next to his desk.

  “No,” she said again, moving to stand in front of him.

  She pulled the door shut behind her and leaned her back against it. The room was sort of spinning and she waited until it stopped.

  “Why don’t you want to sleep with me?”

  He sighed, looking down at her. “You’re drunk.”

  “So? That’s not what we’re talking about,” she said. “And I’m not like, drunk, drunk, drunk. You know?” Her tongue felt lazy. She looked up at him. “I repeat… why don’t you want to sleep with me?”

  She dropped the t-shirt in her hands and reached for the bottom of his shirt, tugging him toward her.

  “I want to sleep with you,” she told him, looking into his eyes. “I think about it all of the time. Before and after Connor Dorsey. Which has to mean something, right? That I think about it, before and after?”

  His expression was a mixture of desire, agony, and compassion and her stomach tightened. He was standing so close. And all she wanted to do was kiss him. All she wanted to do was kiss him, and touch him and be with him, without thinking.

  “You know I want you, too, Brian.” she murmured, pressing up on her toes as she tugged the bottom of his shirt again willing him even closer.

  She didn’t know whether it came out as a statement or a question but she didn’t care either way. She pressed her lips against his and electricity immediately shot throughout her body. He kissed her back without hesitation, with an urgency that reflected her own need. Which was good. He was so good. He felt so good. She hooked her fingers through his belt loops, pulling him solidly against her. He pressed into her, kissing her deeply, almost angrily.

  “You’re so good,” she said against his mouth.

  Her thoughts were mushy and that was the only adjective she could think of to describe him. The vodka had her inhibitions lowered and even though she knew she was wrong for wanting it, she suddenly couldn’t bear the thought of losing him, even though she knew she couldn’t give him what he needed.

  “Don’t be mad at me, okay?” she whispered urgently against his mouth. She kissed him again, sucking at his bottom lip. “And thank you.”

  He didn’t respond to her rambling. They banged loudly against the door but she barely heard it, she was so focused on him and his touch. He grabbed her waist, then ran his hand down her hips and around to her butt, pulling her tightly against him. She could feel him hard against her stomach and it turned her on even more.

  He kissed her hungrily, the way she wanted to be kissed by him, his tongue dancing with hers. She opened her mouth for him and wrapped her arms around his neck urging him closer, if it were possible. His kisses were better than air and she moaned against his mouth, unable to suppress the noises that were escaping her.

  “Baby, we… I need to stop,” he suddenly breathed against her mouth, jarring her system.

  He backed up reluctantly, breathing heavily as he gently unwound her arms from his neck.

  “No,” she murmured forcefully, stepping toward him again, finding his mouth.

  She pulled at his belt loops again, willing his body to press against hers. She didn’t want to stop. Not when he was feeling so good.

  “You’re drunk, Destiny,” he breathed, pulling back again to
look at her. “We can’t do this like this. You don’t even know what you want for real. One minute you’re running from me and pushing me away and the next you act like you want me again.”

  “Yes,” she answered immediately, pressing into him and flicking her tongue against his neck because she knew he liked it so much. “I do want you. All of the time.”

  She trailed her tongue up his neck and he inhaled sharply when she nipped his skin.

  “God, what are you doing to me?” he asked aloud, grabbing at her waist again. He said it in a tortured way and she didn’t know if he was asking her or the actual God. She kissed him greedily and pushed him toward the bed. They flopped down onto it clumsily. She immediately straddled him, pressing herself against him, her dress rising up, mildly aware that she wasn’t freaking out this time. She just wanted him. All of him.

  She felt the material of his jeans against her and moaned audibly at the sensation. She was losing all control of whatever conscious thought she had left and she was glad. She moaned again, rubbing herself deliberately against him to create the sweet friction her body was craving.

  She was hovering over him, balancing her weight on her arms and he let his hand roam up her ribcage to her breast, running his thumb over her nipple. She closed her eyes and bit down on her lip at the sensation, moving her body against his again and he moaned, too, pulling her down fully on him. He started to run his hands under her dress, pushing it up over her hips, but just as suddenly he pulled it back down.

  “Shit, Destiny,” he groaned abruptly, rolling her off of him.

  He swung his legs off of the bed, putting his head in his hands. His breathing was choppy and sporadic.

  “Don’t stop, Brian,” she pleaded, pushing herself onto her knees, running her hands along his hunched over back. “Please.”

  “You know I don’t want to,” he said, his voice strained. He looked up at her and she kissed his lips.

  “Then don’t,” she murmured against his mouth.

  He kissed her back as if he had no will of his own, running his fingers through her hair again, pulling her toward him. Then he pulled back again, shaking his head, his chest heaving.