by RH Tucker
“Damn it,” I grumble and run back to the stove, basting the protein.
“Do you want me to tell him you’re back here?” Rita asks with a laugh.
“What? No! Are you crazy? I’m a sweaty, greasy mess.”
“Aw, you’re no fun.” She laughs again and leaves the kitchen.
“Now you’re dragging your boy toys to work, babe?” Manny snickers.
“Screw you, he doesn’t even know I work here,” I return, but still feel my face heating up, and it’s not because of the grill. “Besides, you’ve had more than your fair share of boy toys waiting out there for you.”
“Girl, my men know their place.”
“Dummy,” I giggle, turning the steak in the pan.
I try not to think about Taylor, but I do. I haven’t seen him in almost a week, and I find myself wondering who he’s out there with. I don’t want to, but I do.
After our first night at the club, I knew what it was. And yeah, Felicia’s right, I don’t do casual hookups, but I knew what that night was. And I wanted it.
After the night at Chevy’s, even though I knew where he stood, there was a small part of me that knew it was probably a bad idea. Another night with him? Once was fine, but the last thing I need is to develop feelings for someone who only likes to hit it and quit it. So as the night goes on, and we start to clean up, I try to scrub not only the pots and pans I’ve cooked with but my mind of Taylor and our two nights together.
Walking out to our cars after we close, I stop dead in my tracks. Taylor is leaning against his motorcycle, which is next to my car. He delivers a wicked smirk to me and my jaw drops.
“What’s wrong? You forget something?” Manny questions, bumping into me.
“Uh … no.”
He turns and follows my line of vision. “Damn, girl,” he whispers to me. “Rita wasn’t lying. That boy is all man. Have fun.”
He chuckles and walks over to his car, leaving us alone in the dimly lit parking lot. “What are you doing here?” I ask, getting my keys out.
“My friend Ethan and I were hanging out doing a Taco Tuesday thing tonight. Your bartender gave me your note.” He lifts up a folded piece of paper.
The dark jeans and leather jacket do nothing to erase from my mind what I know he looks like underneath.
“My note?” I take the paper from him and unfold it, confused. Reading it, it tells him what time I’m off and to wait or come back so we can have another night of fun, with my name signed at the bottom.
“Rita.” I grind my teeth, shaking my head.
His low, rumbling chuckle bubbles forth. “Does this mean you didn’t want to have some more fun?”
I bite my lip, trying to keep myself from smirking. “I smell like fajitas and Pico de Gallo.”
Taking a step closer to me, he slides a hand around my hip, his lips grazing my ear. “Good enough to eat.”
“You and your lines. Do they work on all of the girls?”
“Most of them,” he replies, and I raise an eyebrow at the rashness. “But I can definitely tell you’re not like most girls.”
“Good answer.” Keeping his hand on my hip, he pulls me closer as he leans against his bike. “Seriously, I stink. I need a shower.”
Licking his lips, a mischievous glint hits his eyes. “We’ve got a shower.”
“I don’t have any clothes there.”
“Who said anything about needing clothes?”
Before I have time to second guess if I should take him up on his offer, and even debate whether doing this again with him for the third time is an entirely wrong decision on my part, his lips hit mine, and he wraps his arms around me. By the time I’m able to develop somewhat coherent problem-solving skills, I find myself on the back of his bike, and we’re speeding through the streets, on the way to his apartment.
Said problem-solving skills vanish once again as soon as he parks the bike, his lips seemingly needing to feel mine, and somehow we make it into his apartment. I don’t know if his roommate is home, or anyone for that matter, as I’m ushered into the bathroom. His lips against my skin, me pulling off his jacket and shirt, he fumbles with the shower knob, steaming up the bathroom.
The first time was just a fun night. Nothing more.
The second time wasn’t anything serious, I knew that. But I also knew that while I don’t like random hookups, with Taylor, it felt like more. Not more than a hookup because I knew that’s all it was, but there was something there between us. Like a magnet bringing us together. His hands roaming over my skin, my lips and tongue tasting his. I knew it was a bad idea, but I also knew I wanted it. Him.
Now, waking up a third time with him, I’m torn. I definitely feel something for him, and now that we’ve slept together for the third time, I can’t control the thoughts of the possibility of having something with him. Officially. But other than our incredible time together, he’s never given me any hint that he’d be open to a relationship. That’s when Tara’s idea surfaces.
He stirs next to me in his bed, and I think he’s waking up. His eyelid twitches and he lets out a soft, indiscernible grouse. His head moves and the grumble is faintly louder.
“Taylor?” I whisper to him.
He mumbles something that sounds like no. Another head twitch. He’s dreaming.
“Taylor,” I whisper again, caressing his arm. His shoulder stiffens, this time his grunt is loud, and his eyes clenched tightly. “Tay—”
He jolts up to a sitting position, the sheets bunching around his waist, and his chest heaves. His breathing is heavy, and he looks around his room, wide-eyed, and then at me. Our gaze holds, my eyes never leaving his, as he stares at me with confusion and what looks like shame.
Finally taking a deep breath, he falls back down, throwing an arm over his eyes. “Sorry,” he says quietly.
“Bad dream?”
“Something like that.”
My first thought is to cuddle up to him, even though he says he doesn’t cuddle, hoping to ease whatever tension he’s feeling. His chest still heaves, though it’s simmering down, and I want to offer some kind of comfort. Taking a chance, I slide closer and lay my head on his shoulder. Surprisingly, he lifts his arm and wraps it around me.
But his words are still black and white. “When did you want me to take you back to your car?”
“It’s okay.” I give a knowing nod. “I’ll get a Lyft or something.”
A light chuckle escapes him, and he looks over at me. “Sasha, I’m not gonna be an ass. I don’t mind.”
“Okay, then, um …” Don’t do it, Sasha. But I can’t help it. I’m still thinking about it. “Right now would be good, but before we go …”
The pause is longer than intended as I stare down over his chest, his breathing having steadied. “Yeah?”
“I know what you said that first night, but … we’ve had fun, right?”
That cocky smirk appears, and his hand slides down my arm, over my hip. “We’ve definitely had fun.”
“So, I had an idea.” His eyebrow quirks up. “Look, I’m not going to lie, I don’t really do these casual hookup things.”
“Okay?”
A giggle hits me at his unsure tone. “I’m not asking you to go out, don’t worry.”
“What are you asking me?”
“I don’t know …”
“You don’t know?”
“It’s just … I like this thing we have, and I’d like to, I don’t know … what if we had easier access to one another?” Another eyebrow lift. “I know you like the casual hookups and don’t want to commit to anything. I get that. But, barring these encounters with you, I don’t really do casual. So, what if we had a middle ground?” He stares at me with a confused expression. “What if we were monogamously uncommitted.”
He still seems confused, but he lets out a chuckle. “Monogamously uncommitted?”
“Yeah. As in, we’re not a couple. I know you don’t want that. But,” I climb on top of him, wrapping my arms around
his neck, “whenever you do want what I have, you call me. And only me.”
Smirking up at me, his hands grab my hips. “You mean friends with benefits.”
“I mean I don’t like just being a hookup. But I don’t really want a relationship either. This suits both of our needs and wants.”
“And you’re okay with that? Just being a booty call.”
My face drops, and he stifles a laugh. “First of all, if you ever call me a booty call again the deal is off.”
“But isn’t that what—”
“Secondly,” I press a finger to his lips, “you’re not the only one getting something out of this deal.” I roll my hips into his, eliciting the reaction I want from him, as he grips my hips tighter. “This isn’t just you texting whenever you want some. This is a two-way street. If I text you, you’ll have to be there, too.”
Biting his bottom lip, he stares up at me, his fingers pressing into my skin, as his eyes study mine. “I don’t know. Friends with benefits never ends well.”
“Fair enough,” I say without hesitation and roll off of him, wrapping the sheet around myself as I lean down for my pants.
“Oh, seriously?” He sits up, laughing, and slides closer to me. “You’re just gonna do me like that again?”
“I’m simply giving you an example.”
“Is that right?”
“Yes.” I nod with a smile and then climb back into his lap, wrapping my legs around him. “How much easier would it be for you—for us—to have one another’s number and be readily available instead of going out to Chevy’s?” I lean in closer to him. “Scanning the area for your fun for the night.”
“Is that what you do?” He laughs.
“You and I both know it’s far easier for me than it is for you. I’m actually doing you a favor here.”
Laughing, he turns us around and lays over the top of me. “You do have a point with that one.” His eyes meet mine, and he hovers above me. I can see the debate going on in his mind as he bites the inside of his lip. Finally, he lowers, skimming his lips along my jaw. “Okay, then. Let’s try this little deal out.”
I smile, blocking the doubts that are creeping up in the back of my mind. Pressing my hand to his chest, I ask “Should we shake on it?”
Grabbing my hands, he lifts them over my head, his lips running up to my ear. “Oh, I think we can do a little more than shake on it.”
Chapter 10
Taylor
Shit.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
It’s a bad idea. No matter what way I look at it, it’s a bad idea. And the only reason I said okay, other than her deliberately grinding her hips into me, is because I don’t know the last time I was with a girl that felt as good as it does with her. I’m not just talking about being physical either, though that’s without question, but everything else.
The first night, after the club, I felt it. Look, sex almost always feels great. How’s the saying go? Bad pizza is still pizza. But there’s nothing bad about being with her. Nothing average or even above average. It all feels … amazing. Even so, after that night, I thought it might’ve just been a one-time thing.
When we met up again after Chevy’s, I realized it wasn’t. Every touch of her, even running my fingers along her skin, makes me want more of her. All of her.
And now, after last night, I’m shaking my head as I watch her drive away out of the parking lot, cursing myself. Because this is not what I should be doing. Not even in the slightest, no matter how bad my body pulls toward hers, or how much I love the taste of her. And how do I know that? Because the nightmares came back last night.
There was a time, in the middle of my senior year in high school, things were okay. I’d finally gotten over the hurdle with being with a girl. Getting over that mountain felt like a nightmare in and of itself, but I did it. So, I figured I must’ve been able to date. To not just hook up with some girl, but actually date someone.
I was wrong.
There was a girl that I started dating before I graduated. Things were fine in the beginning, but the more time progressed, the more nightmares I’d have. She’d come to me, Reese, in my sleep. Crying and wondering what she did wrong. Why I didn’t love her anymore and why I left her. And I remember them as clear today as I did the moment I’d wake up from them. I’d reach for her. Plead with her to stay and tell her I’m sorry. For everything. That I still loved … love her. Then her sorrow turned to anger. She’d scream at me, tell me it’s all my fault, which I know it is, and before I could say anything else, I’d wake up in a pool of my own sweat and tears.
It was during that time that the exercising started kicking into high gear before I got injured. Once that happened, my parents wouldn’t let me near a gym for a month, even though the doctor said it was fine as long as I didn’t overexert myself. So, since weights were off the menu, I tried turning to girls again. And wouldn’t you know it, it worked. As long as I didn’t get attached to them. As long I remembered who I really loved and who none of the girls would ever replace. The nightmares stopped.
It almost felt like she was giving me permission, just as long as I didn’t get attached.
Jesus, I sound crazy.
Which is why I can’t believe what I just did. What I just agreed to, even after waking up from that nightmare. It’s also why, instead of going back home, I head to the beach.
Rolling up my pants, I take a seat on a small cliff overlooking the beach. The water heaves to and fro down below. It’s not a significant drop, maybe twenty feet, but this place reminds me of our favorite spot where I used to live. We’d sneak out every once in a while, or visit it on the weekends. We’d hold hands, jump off the cliff, and then swim in the warm ocean water. Stupid kids.
“Hey, Reese,” I whisper, running my fingers through the sand. “I know I haven’t been by in a while, either here or back home. Sorry about that.”
Looking off in the distance, I watch as a jogger strolls along the beach. Behind him, a couple walks hand in hand, and I’m reminded why I’m here.
“You don’t have anything to worry about. With Sasha, I mean.” A forlorn feeling creeps up. “She is nice. Kind of reminds me of you a little.” I wrinkle my nose, shaking my head at myself. “That was stupid, sorry about that. It doesn’t matter. All I’m saying is it’s nothing.” Getting to my feet, I dust my pants off. “AJ is doing good. You’d be proud of him.” I close my eyes, fighting back the tears. I know this isn’t helpful or healthy. I’ve been told as much by my parents and the therapist I used to see. I can’t help it. “I should go.”
After walking back to my bike, I throw my helmet on and slap the visor shut, taking a deep breath. I might’ve really screwed up agreeing to this thing with Sasha. I’ll have to end it. It’ll only end badly for her, and I don’t want to do that.
“Oh, couldn’t stay away, so you had to trail her home,” Veronica teases me as I walk into the apartment.
“Very funny,” I retort. “Do you need a lozenge? Wouldn’t want you to get a sore throat with all that screaming coming out of Micah’s room.”
She laughs, jabbing me in the ribs with an elbow. “Aw, poor Taylor. Couldn’t provide your latest conquest everything she needed? It’s been pretty quiet from your chambers lately.”
“Okay, you two,” Micah intercepts, pulling his shirt over his head, coming out from his room. “I don’t want to have to put either of you in timeout again.”
“She started it.” I point at Veronica.
We’ve developed a very brother and sister relationship since she started dating Micah. I teased her a lot in the beginning, but since then she’s been more than capable of holding her own and throwing out her own barbs. And she does as often as she can.
“I didn’t think I’d ever see you chasing a girl,” she jokes again.
“I’m not chasing. I needed to take her back to her car.”
“Mmm-hmm.” She smiles as she heads toward the door. “I don’t remember you offering Heather— No.”
She taps her mouth. “Hillary?”
“Holly?”
“Who knows,” she laughs again. “All I do know is I don’t remember the last girl you offered a ride back to her car. Isn’t your Uber account, like, platinum level now or something?”
“They don’t do that.” I roll my eyes.
Giving a kiss to Micah, she waves to me before opening the door. “You know I love you, T. See ya guys later.”
I nod, taking a seat on the couch. Micah sits down next to me. “She does have a point.”
“She doesn’t.” He laughs at my response. “I went to see Reese.”
“Really?”
I nod. “I had a nightmare last night. First one in a long time.”
“That sucks. Sorry.”
“Yeah.” I rake my fingers over my face. “Sasha wants to do this friends with benefits thing.” Micah cringes, making me chuckle. “I know. But damn it if I didn’t agree to it. I’m so stupid.”
“You like her.”
“No.” I shake my head, although I’m not sure if I’m trying to convince him or me. “It doesn’t matter anyway, friends with bennies never works. Someone always gets attached or hurt. Or both.”
He’s quiet for a moment, before releasing a light laugh. “You afraid of her getting attached or yourself?”
I finally look over at him, peaking an eyebrow, still unsure what my answer would be.
Chapter 11
Sasha
“Stop checking your phone,” Tara chides me as I hang out in the campus bookstore, waiting for her to get off of work.
“It’s been three days.” I continue to scroll social media, acting as if I’m not waiting for a text or phone call.
Tara’s glossy pink lips make an exaggerated ‘O’. “Wow, are you that hot for him?”
“No.” I don’t sound the least bit convincing. “It’s just that he seemed hesitant about this whole thing. I don’t know why I listened to you guys.”
“Why don’t you just text him? You told him it goes both ways.”
