No More Heartache: The MORE Duet

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No More Heartache: The MORE Duet Page 8

by Anders, Tarrah


  “Max,” she says as she passes me.

  So she either knows me or she knows of me.

  “Okay, so, what do you think?” Davis says as he walks out of my bedroom in the paisley shirt.

  “It’s definitely a shirt.” The redhead replies.

  “A shirt that looks good, or do I look like a freaking idiot? Be honest.” Davis asks her.

  “Well, it’s a conversation starter for sure.” She laughs.

  I’ve moved from the doorway entrance to the kitchen area, with a straight view of the redhead so I can further try to figure out just where I know her from. There were many evenings that are a blur to me, sometimes I was with more than one female an evening. It’s then that I realize I’m a slut.

  I knew from this morning that the names that Davis mentioned were familiar, but of course I didn’t put the two together.

  “So, you work with Davis?” I ask leaning against the counter.

  The redhead startles as she looks at me and then smiles a little too big as if she knows a secret that I don’t. She must have not known Davis had a brother, or that I lived here.

  “Yeah, we’re all teachers. I’m 2nd and Tate is Kindergarten.” She says walking over to the counter to close the distance.

  “I see.” I don’t see the other person that she is talking about, and I can’t think of anything else to say, however this is some serious déjà-vu that I’m having right now. I’m still racking my brain on details, she just mentioned someone else, why would she mention someone else and why is she looking at me like she knows something that I don’t?

  “Where’s Tatum?” Davis asks walking back into the room and rolling up the sleeves on the shirt.

  “She’s in the car. She, um didn’t want to come in.” The redhead says looking at me quickly then back to Davis.

  Tatum.

  That was one of the names that Davis said this morning. Sammie and Tatum. Tatum and Sammie. This whole being sober thing and remembering things when you were drunk is annoying. I ran my hand through my hair, frustrated with the struggle of trying to grasp my thoughts.

  “Holy Shit.” I exhale. I look at Sammie, my mouth a gape. Davis is looking at me puzzled and then he gets a knowing look in his eyes.

  “The hotel. Sisters birthday. Tatum. Letter. What the …” I can’t complete a coherent thought let alone say it out loud.

  “Nice to see you again Maxy boy.” Sammie smiles.

  “So uh, yeah….” Davis looks nervous. “You met my friends during your… um vacation.” Davis steps beside Sammie.

  “And you knew this the whole time?” I ask Davis, my voice getting louder than usual. “Tatum, she’s in the car? Why didn’t she want to come inside?” I ask turning to Sammie.

  “She didn’t want to run into you, in case you were home. And you are,” Sammie says spreading her arms out in a grand gesture.

  “I wasn’t a dick to her, quite the opposite.” I try to smile, but I’m trying to also get a grip on my frustration.

  “There’s my asshole brother. Leave Tatum alone, Max, she didn’t wanna come inside, plain and simple. You may have just been a one night stand to her.” Davis said defending the girl who sat outside. He gestures to the front door and Sammie follows.

  “It was good to see you again Max. Have a good night.” Sammie fakes a smile as she reaches to open the front door.

  I follow behind them, Sammie is out of the house and walking down the walk-way towards a car parked at the curb. Davis stops just short of the front door and turns to me and places his hand against my chest as I attempt to walk down the pathway.

  “Just chill. A chick you were most likely going to blow off anyways blew you off first. Please don’t make it weird, these are my work colleagues and my friends.” He looks me in the eye and I back off. He turns his heel and walks to the car at the curb.

  In the passenger seat is a beautiful brunette, I see the back of her head as she’s turned towards Sammie, she then slowly turns to look back at the house and I’m standing in the doorway. My breath hitches, likely at the same time I can tell hers does and she quickly looks away. The car starts and speeds off.

  I shut the door and go to the living room and sit on the couch. I’m facing the television but I haven’t turned it on yet. The week I stayed in the Bayfront hotel, I was extremely drunk and I didn’t leave the premises. I would meet a chick in the bar or pool and she would be coming up to my room by the end of the night. And while the details are fuzzy, I am remembering the onslaught of the first images that came to my mind as Sammie entered my house.

  I invited myself to their table, I purposely showed interest in the birthday girl to make a better impression on the leggy brunette with the almost black hair. I bought rounds upon rounds of shots for the girls and eventually made my way back to my room with the leggy brunette. Then in the morning, I didn’t need to make up some lame excuse to get rid of her, because while I took a shower, she left me. Which was disappointing since I wanted another go, but she had made up my mind for me.

  So why am I sitting here analyzing what I can remember of my entire evening with her and why am I so bent out of shape about this? Maybe my brother is right.

  I pulled out my phone and my finger hovered over the Call button with Nikki’s contact information. I eventually hit the button and within 30 minutes, she was knocking on my door.

  I answer the door and put a smile to my face for her. This would be the first time that I’m actually seeing her when I don’t have a drink in my system. She’s a pretty girl, definitely not my type, but she’s a hellcat in bed. Her don’t give a fuck attitude and straight honesty drew me to her along with her edgy sweetness. I’m attracted to her, as evident from the stretching happening in my pants, but as harsh as it sounds, she just isn’t my type in the longevity of things.

  “Hey stranger. I haven’t see you in a while.” She purrs as she enters the house and leans up on her tippy-toes to kiss me.

  Our lips mesh together and I kiss her back, our lips fused together but not opening.

  “I’ve been, busy.” I say as I release her.

  “Mmmm. Figured you got yourself a girlfriend.” She smiles as she sits herself down on the couch. “Your brother out?”

  “Yeah, he’s got a work thing.” I sit next to her. I’m unsure how all this starts, do I make the move? Why am I acting like a pussy? This is different sober.

  “Are you okay? You don’t seem like yourself.” She’s looking at me concerned.

  “No, I’m fine. It’s just been a while, and I haven’t seen ya.” I say awkwardly getting up and moving to the kitchen. “Do you want something to drink? Unfortunately, I only have milk, juice, soda and water. Oh and I can make strawberry milkshakes.”

  She gets up and stands across the counter. “I’ll take a milkshake, I haven’t had one in years.” She smiles.

  I eagerly get out all the ingredients, which I’ve made a point to constantly keep in the house. I avoid eye contact and any conversation. I’m not needing a drink, but I can feel something tugging at me.

  “So Maximus, what have you been doing for the past few months? Your friend, the sexy married one came into the bar one night and asked if I had seen you. You go MIA or something?”

  “Or something. I had a stay-cation, they found me…. Holy shit, that’s how they found me!” I had meant that last part as an internal thought over saying it out loud but I couldn’t stop myself. Davis and Dane found out where I was from Davis’s colleagues, they must have been discussing me meeting them.

  Nikki looked confused, but knew not to ask any questions, so I continued after taking a deep breath.

  “My brother and Dane came to my hotel and then I went… I went into rehab.” I say putting the lid on the blender and turning it on. I refrained from looking at Nikki until I turned off the blender. She had a smile, but she didn’t say anything further at that moment.

  I placed a shake in front of her and started to drink mine.

  “So the reason y
ou don’t have anything other than non-alcoholic beverages, is because you are sober?” It would seem like she’s being cautious over how she chooses her words.

  I nod and I take another sip of my drink.

  “So you calling me tonight, was because you simply enjoy my company and not because you’re fucked up?” She asks.

  “Well, I’m fucked up, but yes I do enjoy your company as well.” I smile.

  * * *

  It’s several hours later and I am dick deep into Nikki for the 3rd time tonight. She’s pulling at me and gasping for air as my hips pump into her over and over again. I’m trying hard to get to the point where I can come, but sober sex seems harder. This is hilarious because it should be the other way around. I pull out, grab her hips and turn her around. My hand aligns my dick up with her entrance and I push in, she gasps and after three pumps I can feel the tingling sensation at the base of my spine. I start to pump faster as I reach around to rub at her clit, but her hand is already there.

  She’s moaning louder as I thrust faster and harder into her, two more thrusts and I am straining as I release into the condom inside her.

  “Fuck,” I groan as I lean my head down on her back. She’s braced on my bed and is still catching her breath.

  “I thought you weren’t going to be able to. Holy crap, I feel faint.” She breaths out as I remove myself carefully from her. She turns around and sits on the edge of the bed.

  I hand her a damp washcloth to clean up and sit next to her.

  “I haven’t had sober sex in over a year.” I admit.

  She doesn’t have to say anything, I know she knows what I’m talking about. Nikki is the only one of any of the girls that I’ve messed with that does, that’s why I called her. I didn’t have to hide any random thoughts and she wasn’t one to ask questions.

  “You staying over?” I ask.

  “Nah, I should get home. I have a day date tomorrow, I would rather not be doing the walk of shame in the morning with a date a few hours later, what kind of lady would I be?” She mocks.

  “Only the classiest of ladies.” I smile. I like the banter that we have, it’s too bad she isn’t my type of girl.

  14

  Davis

  I avoided my brother for the majority of the weekend by staying at Katrina’s house. Lately, we’ve been having discussions of moving in together. I’ve put off the decision and further discussion until Sunday afternoon when Katrina’s parents and my parents made lunch plans with us.

  “Davis dear, you lovebirds have been together for several years now, is that so?” Katrina’s mom started. I felt Katrina’s hand go frigid against my knee where it’s placed. I lower my hand and squeeze it.

  “Yes ma’am. It’s nearly four and a half years.” I smile as I fork some salad into my mouth.

  “You two living together yet?” Her dad asks.

  “We’re talking about it, actually recently we’ve been discussing it more.” I state.

  My mother smiles as does Katrina’s mother.

  “Why the sudden interest on whether Davis and I are cohabiting?” Katrina asks.

  “I want to make sure that you’re protected, a young, beautiful woman living alone can be quite daunting.” Katrina’s mom explains.

  “Plus, we like Davis.” Her father chimes in.

  “It’s something that we’re considering strongly sir. Although, I have some responsibilities to my brother, whom I currently live with, I will say it’s a strong possibility soon.” I say, trying to make it sound good and to not provide too much personal information about Max.

  “How is he doing? He won’t return our calls.” My mom asks.

  “He’s good. He throws himself into work now, kinda like how he did after the accident. But when he gets home early – he seems bored. Sometimes, I don’t see him, which worried me at first, but since he got back, he’s strictly in a work and home pattern.” I explain to my mom who has a worried look on her face.

  “Please have him call us.”

  “Davis is avoiding Max right now.” Katrina laughs.

  “Why on earth would you be doing that?” My mom asks. I shoot Katrina a quick glare.

  “He… um, dated a co-worker of mine. He didn’t know we worked together. But he found out before the weekend, so I just don’t want to answer any stupid questions that I would feel uncomfortable with answering yet.” I shrug seeming unaffected.

  “Davis was a chaperone at his schools 5th grade dance. His co-workers picked him up, it was like a date.” Katrina is loving this.

  “And you were okay with Davis going to a dance with this co-worker?” Katrina’s father narrowed in on her.

  “Daddy, he was working. And plus, I’ve met them. They’re really nice.” She smiles rubbing my thigh.

  Her father then narrowed his gaze on me. “Face your demons boy. Don’t avoid the inevitable.”

  I nodded and again glared at Katrina as she smiled brightly at me.

  The remainder of our lunch conversation reverted to our parents, our input was requested very little after that.

  I may need to speak with my brother, but I wanted to talk to Sammie and Tatum first.

  * * *

  School starts in a week or so and all the teachers are back to work for meetings and beginning of the year planning. I got to the lunch table first on Monday. Tatum was sitting in her usual spot with what looked like a lunch for a sumo wrestler. I took a seat across from her as she forked bits of a pineapple into her mouth and hummed.

  “I’m avoiding my brother because of you.” I state taking a bite out of my apple.

  “Why?” She asks innocently after finishing her bite.

  “He figured out who you and Sammie were. He wants information, and I honestly don’t know what to tell him. You present as an anomaly to him; you ditched him, creating a chase, whereas he had no opportunity to kick you to the curb the next morning.” I was blunt, but I didn’t know how else to put it.

  “That’s what I was trying to avoid. Look, just say I haven’t told you anything, and I’m not willing to. I’m a private person.” She offers.

  I think about it for a moment that could work. He would buy it, but his annoying texts about wanting to talk to me over the weekend proved otherwise.

  “We’ll see what happens. Look, I don’t mean to be a jerk, but he’s my brother and you’re my friend. I’m in a tough spot.”

  “I understand. If I knew he was your brother when we first met him, I doubt things would have played out the way they did.”

  “He can be charming. And he has my natural good looks, so I don’t blame you.” I smile.

  15

  Tatum

  I feel like complete and utter crap.

  This week has been torture. I’ve wanted to call in sick, but I can’t afford to do so.

  To add onto feeling like shit, I am feeling guilty for putting Davis and his extremely hot brother in an awkward position. I know it’s not actually my fault, but I’m the common factor in this.

  It’s Friday night and I’m standing in my kitchen picking at the upside down pineapple cake I made. I’ve been craving pineapples lately. I’ve order pizza and made sure my 2nd topping was pineapple, I went to the grocery store and bought at least 10 cans of pineapple. I’m living off the juice. It tastes so delicious, and it immediately makes me feel warm inside.

  My dinky apartment is just that, dinky. I live in a 700 Square foot, 1 bedroom palace of the college area. Sometimes my neighbors throw crazy parties that keep me up all night, sometimes I hear the ghetto birds flying overhead with their loudspeaker on providing descriptions of someone to be cautious of, but you can’t understand what they are saying. My apartment complex is gated and it’s off of one of the main streets. It’s not entirely in the worst part of town, but it’s not in the best part of town. This is my apartment, and it’s my home. For 1 person, it’s got enough space and I like it.

  The buzzer from outside the gate buzzes into my space. Sammie must be here. I buzz her
through and moments later she’s walking in through my door.

  “Hooker. What on earth are you doing?” She asks placing her reusable bag on the counter in front of me.

  “Having my cake.” I smile with a mouthful.

  “Did you eat all of that by yourself?” she asks pointing.

  I look down and over 75% of the cake is gone. Holy crap.

  “Um. I might have. It is just too good to put down. I’ve been all about pineapples lately,” I practically moan.

  She fingers a piece and mimics me in my moan.

  “That is good. But probably not something that will help you feel better if you’re sick. You should be eating soup and stuff like that.” She smiles as she removes a can of chunky chicken noodle soup from her bag.

  I have a can of chopped pineapples sitting next to me on the counter, and I spoon a few over the piece of cake that I’m about to fork. Sammie is staring at me like I sprouted a third eye.

  “Are you for real?” She asks staring at me as I put the piece in my mouth and nod with each chew.

  “Are you pregnant?” She asks.

  I stop nodding.

  “Of course not, to be pregnant would imply that I’ve had sex. I haven’t had sex in a month and a half.” I say.

  “When was your last period?” She asks getting motherly.

  “What are you my doctor? I don’t remember, I’m not pregnant Sam, I’m fine. I just really like pineapples right now. Don’t you get random cravings from time to time?”

  “No. But pregnant ladies do.” She smirks.

  “Shut up you hag. I’m fine.” I smile and pull out a pot for my soup and open the can with my can opener. I put the pot on the stovetop and wait patiently with Sammie watching my every move.

  “Okay, fine. What’s on the DVR?” She asks changing the subject quickly as if it never occurred.

  “You choose, I’m cooking a master piece over here.” I smile.

  I finished warming up the soup and as I’m walking over to the couch, Sammie is going through the DVR for something to watch.

 

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