by Amy Brent
I knew what I had to do: tell her I was sorry. I had to beg for forgiveness. Putting the car in drive, I raced to her house, hoping I would catch her as she got home from work.
When I pulled up in front of her place, I noticed immediately that her car wasn’t there. I still parked and rushed up the steps to buzz her apartment. There was no answer. I slapped the brick wall and let out a frustrated shout.
Then, feeling like the weight of the world was on my shoulders, I went back to my car. Pulling away, I sped to the only place I could drown my sorrows.
Dante’s.
I spotted Chance’s car in the parking lot behind the bar. Good. I needed the company tonight. Making my way inside, I ignored the flirty smiles from the coat check girl and a couple of the waitresses. I headed straight to the bar where I knew I would find my friend.
When I saw Chance, I noted that he was talking to a girl. I didn’t want to ruin his chances with her, so I hung back for a minute. The bartender saw me and recognized me, then mouthed the word “beer.” I nodded and watched as he poured me what was on tap. He passed me the iced glass, and I sipped the foam from the top, waiting for something to happen with Chance and this new stranger.
As I watched, I realized she looked familiar. Her hair was long and dark and pulled back in a voluminous curly ponytail. She had a narrow waist and curvy hips that looked even curvier as she sat perched on the bar stool.
Then I recognized the boots she was wearing and the hoop earrings that were dangling from her ears.
I slammed my beer on the bar and marched over.
Chance spotted me coming. His face lit up in a smile. “Hey buddy,” he called. “Fancy seeing you here!”
I ignored him and planted myself beside Allie. She had been sipping on a drink of some sort; it was pink and filled with berries and bubbles. She looked up at me with her lips still sealed over the straw. Her eyes widened.
“So you’re fucking Chance now, too?” I growled.
“Whoa, dude,” Chance said, getting to his feet and holding his hands up. “This is Allie and me you’re talking about. We were just catching up—”
“I wasn’t talking to you,” I snapped, not looking at him.
I kept my gaze on Allie. I watched the way she registered what I was saying. Her wide eyes narrowed. She swallowed the mouthful of her drink. Then she slid off her stool, took a step toward me, and surprised me by jabbing her finger into my chest.
“How dare you,” she spat. “I haven’t done anything wrong. Chance is your best friend. Do you really think he would do something like that to you? And you believe that I would? That’s fucked up, Steven. That’s really fucked up. No, correction, you’re really fucked up.”
“You know what’s fucked up, Allie? You hiding such a big secret from me for ten God damn years. Ten years! All through high school, and college, and starting our careers. We went through everything together. And the whole time you were keeping it under wraps that you fucked my brother. That’s what’s fucked up.”
Suddenly, another girl arrived. She slid in between Allie and me and took Allie’s arm. It took me a moment to recognize Melissa. It had been a while since I had seen her, and her hair was shorter now. She looked back and forth between her sister and me. “What’s going on, you guys?” Melissa asked, her eyebrows drawn together with concern.
“Oh, big sister Melissa here to save the day,” I said under my breath.
“Shut up, Steven,” Allie said before turning to her sister. “I’m sorry, we need to leave.”
“What? We just got here. This is my one night of freedom,” Melissa complained.
“I know. I’m sorry. I didn’t know Steven was going to be here and be so angry,” she said as if I wasn’t standing right in front of them.
“I’m right here,” I said, crossing my arms.
“I don’t care,” Allie said, grabbing her sister by the wrist. “Have a nice night Chance. Sorry about whatever the hell this was.” She gestured at me.
“Oh, please,” I said as the two girls turned and left. They didn’t look back, but I stared after them as they went. Then I sank onto the barstool Allie had just vacated. The bartender passed me the beer that I had left at the other end of the bar. I raised it in the air in a toast as a way of thanking him, then pressed the glass to my lips and finished it in four gulps.
“What the hell, Steven?” Chance asked.
I rolled my shoulders and ordered another beer. “What?”
“You really think I would do that to you? You think I would hit on Allie?”
“I don’t know what I think anymore,” I said.
“Well, you’d better figure it out. How you treated Allie and her sister—that was fucked up. That was really fucked up.” Chance tossed a twenty-dollar bill down on the bar then looked me over. “Don’t stay here too long. You should go home.”
“Yeah, whatever,” I said, waving him away.
Chance shook his head and left.
I was alone at the bar. The bartender was shitty company and was too busy to keep me distracted from my wandering thoughts of Allie. I couldn’t stop thinking of the way she had looked at me when I accused her of fucking Chance. That wasn’t the look someone gave you when you found them out. That was how someone looked at you when you hurt them.
I pinched the bridge of my nose and squeezed my eyes closed. I couldn’t get a handle on all this pent-up anger. I had nowhere to put it. Everything made me angry. Every time I saw Allie, I thought of her and Andrew. Then I couldn’t stop thinking about her with other guys. Guys like Chance.
I was a fool.
Chance would never do anything like that to me. He was a stand-up guy. Not to mention, he and Allie had been friends for a long time. If anything were going to happen between them, it would have happened a long time ago.
I ordered another beer and two shots of tequila.
Chapter 28
Allie
I stood from my chair and straightened my skirt. It was the end of the workday, and I was exhausted. I hadn’t slept at all the previous night. The whole evening I’d been crying onto Melissa’s shoulder. I felt bad for keeping her up all night, but she had insisted on staying with me. I was a mess. I hadn’t eaten anything since lunch the previous day. Before leaving for work, I barely managed to shower and hadn’t bothered putting on any makeup. My hair went up in a bun when it was still wet. Minimum effort.
I made my way outside and fished around in the bottom of my purse for my car keys. I somehow managed to lose them in the dark abyss of my bag on a near-daily basis. My fingers fumbled over lip gloss, perfume, tissues, tampons, and a compact mirror before they finally grabbed hold of the lanyard attached to my keys. I pulled them out when I reached my car, but they got tangled around something.
I let out a frustrated groan and dropped my purse to the ground. I bent over and started trying to untangle the mess of junk. When I straightened, someone was standing beside me.
I jumped back with a yelp, my hand over my chest.
“Steven?” I hissed when I met his eyes. My heart was racing a mile a minute. “You scared me to death. What are you doing here?”
Steven looked at his feet. “I, uh.”
“Come to accuse me of having sex with more people? My boss, maybe? You know how much I like him.”
“No,” Steven said, shaking his head and looking everywhere but at me. “I came to apologize for how I acted last night. I was wrong. I’m sorry.”
I stared up at him. Was he serious? “You are?” I asked.
“Yes. And I’d like to take you to dinner tonight—if you’re willing to sit down with me, of course. I understand if you aren’t. We need to talk.”
“Talk?” I asked. “You’re sure you don’t want another chance to yell at me? Steven, I want to fix this, but at a certain point, I can’t keep forcing something that isn’t going to happen.”
“I know,” Steven said. “Trust me. I get it. I only want to talk tonight. We both need to. Come on, what d
o you say?”
I searched his eyes. He seemed sincere enough. All that anger I had seen in him at Dante’s was gone. Now, standing in front of me, he was more like the Steven I knew and loved. A little bit more somber than usual. Probably because he felt guilty for the temper tantrum he had thrown the other night.
I sighed. “Okay. I’d like to talk, too. But I need to run my car home first.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Steven said, extending his hand to take my bag. I let him, and he gave me a small gracious smile. “I made reservations, and I don’t want to miss them. I’ll drive you to work on Monday if we haven’t come back to get it by then.”
“Okay,” I said, feeling a little sliver of hope building inside me.
Steven took us to a restaurant neither of us had ever been to before. It was a small place that appeared to be run by a family with an obscene number of children. The staff of twelve was comprised of a mother and father, a grandmother who specialized in the desserts on the menu, and then the nine children who all worked as servers and hosts.
It was dimly lit with candles floating at the top of mason jars filled with water, cranberries, orange slices, and greenery. Everything was rustic and homey, and the whole place smelled like cinnamon and mulled spices.
Steven led me to the back of the restaurant. It was sectioned off into small cubicles. Each little space hosted an intimate private dining area. Steven closed the curtain behind us, took my jacket, and pulled out my chair for me. I sat down, and he tucked me in. I watched him walk around the table and settle into the seat across from me. He scanned the private booth, taking note of the beautiful watercolor painting on the wall and the unique blue and white tiles in the ceiling.
“This place is pretty cool,” Steven said. “It used to be an Italian bakery. That’s where all the tiles and what-not came from.”
“It is different, that’s for sure. I’ve never seen private booths like this except for in some sushi places. Did you do a quick Google search before you picked it?” I asked, smiling involuntarily.
“Perhaps,” Steven said mischievously as he swiped his napkin from the table and draped it across his knee. I did the same.
The server arrived to fill our glasses with ice water and offer some wine options. The wine was served with a small platter of cheeses and a variety of bread, which we nibbled on while looking over the rest of the menu to pick our meals.
Once we had ordered, Steven leaned forward with his elbows on the edge of the table. He regarded me with a calm expression and then began speaking. It was apparent to me that he had rehearsed what he wanted to say long before arriving at my work to ask me to dinner.
“Allie,” he started. “I behaved like a fool the other night and all the other times before that. First off, I never should have taken your diary. I crossed a line. Just because we’re friends doesn’t mean I have the right to know all the personal details about your life. Basically, I’m trying to tell you how sorry I am. Sorry, but still concerned.”
“Concerned about what, exactly?” I asked. I wanted to make sure I had all the details this time. I didn’t want to miss anything. Steven was giving us both a chance to really lay it all out there. I was going to take advantage of it.
“Concerned about you and Andrew. Concerned that if I let myself care now, I’m only going to get hurt later.”
“Okay,” I said slowly, considering my answer. “I don’t have feelings for Andrew. I never did. That night back in high school happened because I was drunk and lonely, and searching for something no one else could give me. It was a stupid mistake. It didn’t bring Andrew and me closer together or push us farther apart. We have been the same ever since. I don’t care for him. Steven, I care for you. I love you.”
Trying to make sense of Steven’s passive expression was like trying to read a foreign language. I had no clue what thoughts were racing through that handsome head of his. Finally, he spoke. “Alright. Still, I’m nervous that you are hiding other secrets from me. I can’t bear to learn that there is more you have been keeping from me. Not something as big as you and Andrew.”
“I promise, Steven, I’m not. I’ve already told you this. Believe it or not, I want you to know everything about me. I’ve shared everything with you. Except for that. Because it was my biggest mistake, and nothing I could do could ever change that. I wanted to leave it in the past. I am not keeping anything else from you.”
I watched as Steven deflated like a balloon in front of me. It was as if my words had taken the weight of the world off his shoulders. “You’re going to be the death of me, Allie Wright.”
I grinned. “That sounds to me like maybe you’re putting all this behind you? Am I being too optimistic?”
“Quite realistic, actually,” Steven said.
I arched an eyebrow. Steven chuckled.
“You’re sure?” I asked. “I don’t want to do this all over again. I can’t fight with you. It’s too hard. It nearly kills me every time. Not to mention, Melissa will hunt you down if you change your mind.”
“Well, I definitely don’t want that to happen. And I’m sure this time.”
I stood from my chair and let the napkin draped across my thigh fall to the ground. Steven stayed where he was, looking up at me with a slightly bewildered expression as I stepped around the table to stand beside him. He shifted in his chair so that he was facing me.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
“Taking what I want,” I replied, reaching out and undoing the button of his jeans.
He looked from me to his fly with wide eyes as I undid the zipper. “Here?” he asked.
“Here.”
I pulled the waistband of his boxers away from his stomach and pulled him free. I went to my knees before him and rested my hands on his thighs. I pushed his legs apart so I could shimmy between them. Then I took him in my mouth.
He jerked with surprise when I rolled my tongue over the sensitive part below the head of his cock. I teased him, entirely at ease even though I was sucking him off in the middle of a restaurant. Our server could come in at any time with our meals. The thrill of breaking the rules and taking risks was turning me on. I could feel a heat building between my legs. I wanted to ride him right then and there.
And that’s what I was going to do.
I stood. Steven watched as I lifted up the hem of my business skirt. I straddled him, inching closer so that I was hovering above his cock, which was pointing up at my pussy like an arrow. I wrapped my arms around his neck to balance myself and bent my knees, bringing myself down on his lap.
His cock slid into me. Both of us let out whispering sighs of pleasure.
Something felt different this time. There wasn’t that little voice in the back of my head reminding me that he might leave me again. I didn’t have that nervous feeling in my gut that I usually had when I was around him. For the first time in a long time I felt relaxed, and I wanted to show him just how much I appreciated that.
I rotated my hips gently above him. He grabbed my waist. I leaned in and kissed him, and we stayed like that, our lips locked together while I began bouncing above him.
I could hear the other customers in the restaurant chatting among themselves. Every now and then came the clatter of a knife hitting a plate. I heard a server take an order. An espresso machine was grinding coffee beans.
Steven pulled me down hard on his cock, burying himself deep inside me. I stifled my moan as my body shook with pleasure. My body buzzed with electricity as all my muscles tensed in preparation for an orgasm. Steven sensed it. He held me against him, his lips still pressed to mine, and lifted his hips up. His hands squeezed my ass. He moaned into my mouth.
I came. His lips on mine kept me from crying out. He continued fucking me and used his hands to rotate my hips in a circle. The rhythm was exquisite. His cock felt suddenly bigger inside me, and I knew he was close to coming undone.
Someone dropped a glass somewhere in the restaurant. A woman’s voice repeatedly a
pologized as a server tried to reassure her that it was just a glass. General sounds of chairs moving out of the way reached our ears.
The risk of being caught was so high right now. Every sound in the restaurant felt amplified; as did all the smells. Curry, spaghetti, fried onions and mushrooms, something sugary and sweet. The thrill of riding Steven in the middle of a busy restaurant made me feel like I was someone else entirely; someone who didn’t care about what other people thought and was doing what she wanted when she wanted.
Steven’s hands pressed into my lower back, and he gripped me tight. He drew me up to him, and I rocked back and forth. His eyes were closed, and all of his muscles were tight.
“I know you want to,” I whispered in his ear, nibbling his lobe.
He shuddered beneath me and let out a soft groan. The deep sound in the back of his throat made my skin feel hot. I was going to burst.
We came together, seconds later, both of us clutching at each other like someone was trying to tear us apart. When we had ridden out our orgasms I stayed atop him, his cock still inside me, our chests rising and falling in unison with our labored breaths.
“That was fun,” Steven breathed, still looking somewhat astounded that we had fucked in the middle of a restaurant.
I giggled at his expression and got off of him. I pulled my skirt down and tried to fan my face to chase away the redness I knew my cheeks would have. Steven zipped up his fly while watching me across the table. I put my napkin back on my lap and tried to look as innocent as possible.
