by Sky Corgan
“There's nothing to talk about,” I grumbled as I led him to the door, slamming it behind him.
I never wanted to see him again. Not ever.
Chapter 10
I canceled all my appointments the next day and stayed home. My eyes wouldn't stop leaking enough for me to step out in public. Besides, I looked like a raccoon from lack of sleep. The rest of the night had been spent crying against Alice's chest. She did her best to help sooth my broken heart, but this was something that could only be fixed by time.
I sat on the sofa for most of the day watching movies to take my mind away from reality. The hours ticked down until I was supposed to meet Darren for dinner, but I didn't care. After the breakup, I had already planned not to show. Men were horrible creatures, and Darren was no better than Lawrence, fucking every piece of ass that came his way. I hated men. Why couldn't Alice and I just be lesbians? She was pretty. I was decent looking, I thought. In my delusional state, I seriously considered it for half a heartbeat, but then I remembered that I don't particularly like vaginas. Fuck it, I'll just be a nun.
I was at the tail end of Titanic, rooting for the death of Jack, when the doorbell rang. Keep him around long enough, he'll fuck you over too, I silently thought as I went to answer it, half-expecting it to be Lawrence. My mind wasn't where it needed to be. If he wanted to talk, I'd damn sure give him an earful, tell him what a fucked up piece of shit I thought he was.
Darren was on the other side, not that it really mattered. Anything with a penis would not be getting the best of me right now.
“Go away,” I growled.
He put his hands up in surrender, and it was all the opportunity that I needed to slam the door in his face. I twisted the deadbolt closed roughly, hoping he could hear it as it snapped into place.
“Are you alright?” he called to me from the other side of the door, but I wasn't listening.
I walked back to the sofa to the sound of him persistently knocking. On the television, Rose was going over her sentiments, talking about all the things she had done since she'd lost Jack. You only did that stuff because he wasn't around anymore, because you were free.
The knocking didn't stop. I could hear Darren saying stuff on the other side of the door, but I wasn't listening. I just wanted him to go away. Frustrated, I fell over on the couch and covered my ears. Surely, he'd leave after a while.
Five minutes passed, then ten. Finally, the knocking stopped, only to return thirty minutes later. The son of a bitch was persistent, but I wasn't giving in. I had nothing to say to him. He was worthless, like the rest of the male population.
At around eleven o'clock, the bolt turned and the door opened. Alice stepped inside with Darren on her heels. I groaned as they entered together, feeling somewhat betrayed by her for letting him in.
“You can have him,” I called to her, loud enough for both of them to hear, as I retreated to my room.
They paused and gave me a quizzical look before I disappeared, closing the door and throwing myself on my bed to cover my head with my pillow, so I wouldn't have to listen to them talking. That's the shitty thing about apartments; the walls are paper thin. Even with the pillow over my head, I knew they were talking about me. Darren was charming, and Alice was an open book. He would have the whole story out of her before the night was through.
I was half asleep when I heard a gentle knocking on my door, followed by the door opening. Damn apartment. There were no locks on any of the doors besides the bathroom and the front door. I made a mental note that we needed to move to somewhere with locks on all the doors.
“Tara,” came Darren's voice, incredibly gentle.
I didn't respond. Maybe if he thought that I was asleep, he'd go away. No such luck.
I felt the bed dip beside me, and then my body tensed as he curled up next to me, wrapping his arms around me.
“Don't fucking touch me,” I growled, tossing his hand off my shoulder.
“I'm not the one who wounded you,” he said softly, and it instantly filled me with guilt, remembering all the times I had hurt him.
“I know.”
“Let me help you, then.”
“Why would you want to help me?” I turned to him, looking up into his gorgeous blue eyes, which were filled with nothing but concern. Though I had decided I hated men, it felt like his handsome face was already breaking through the protective barrier I had put up. All I could do to stifle my desire was to look away, because leaning over me like that, gazing down at me with this Caribbean blue eyes that felt like they knew me so well, he was very desirable. “I hurt you badly. A lot. You should be pleased to see me like this.”
“Nonsense. I have never wished ill for you.”
“You told me the other day you had hoped we broke up. Well, you got your wish.”
“I said that because I was trying to get under your skin. I never meant it.”
“And I never meant to hurt you. So, we're even.”
“Far from it. I doubt you could ever repay the pain you've caused me.”
“Well, I'm in pain right now, and I'd like for you to go away.”
“I'm not going anywhere.”
“Is this part of making me repay what I've done to you, to torture me with your presence when I just want to be left alone.” I glared at him, my attraction quickly fading.
“I told you I'm here to help you, not torture you.”
“If you want to help me, then you'll go away.”
“Nope. Not leaving,” he insisted.
“Well, I'm not interested in socializing, so what are you going to do that's supposed to help?”
“I'm just going to be here to take care of you. It's as simple as that.”
“Take care of me from a distance then. I want you out of my bed.”
“Nope. Not leaving.”
“What if I kick you in the nuts?”
“You wouldn't do that.”
“Don't test me right now.”
He wrapped his arm around me, and I quickly tried to detach him to no avail.
“Stop struggling,” he said casually.
“What part of get out of my bed don't you understand?” I grumbled, considering kicking him.
“Just calm down. Lay still. Let me hold you. I remember you always enjoyed it when I held you after a breakup before.”
“That was then. This is now. Stop living in the past.”
“I'm not. If I was living in the past, I wouldn't be here.”
“You're not going to let me go, are you?” I sighed.
“No, so you might as well give up.”
“Fine,” I huffed, trying my best to relax in his tight grip. The more I relaxed, the less tightly he held me. Eventually, I was just laying there, and his arm was loosely draped over me. We laid there in silence, listening to each other breathing. For as much as I didn't want to admit it, there was something soothing about it, just being held . . . by someone who actually cared for me. Did Darren actually care for me? Or was this just a set up to hurt me? If anyone deserved to hurt me, it was him. I decided to go with it. Surely, he would leave soon.
***
I woke up the next morning with his arm still on me. At first, I thought he was Lawrence and that everything I had gone through these past days had just been a horrible nightmare. Then I turned around, my green eyes meeting his blue ones, and my heart broke all over again. My relationship was over. Life as I knew it was over. How would I move on from this?
“Good morning,” he whispered to me.
“Good morning,” I grumbled.
“Pancakes?”
“What?”
“You owe me pancakes, but considering the situation, I thought it might be better if we just went out to eat.”
“I have to work this afternoon,” I said absently.
“Well, I guess it's a good thing it's not the afternoon then. My cooking isn't the greatest, but if you really don't want to leave, I think I could whip us up some pancakes.”
“Why
are you doing this?” I looked at him oddly.
“Because I love you. Why else would I act this irrational.” He rolled off the bed, not giving me a chance to respond.
I watched as he left the room, presumably to make me pancakes. He had become so strange over the years. The boy I had once known to be a complete pushover was now demanding and . . . I don't know. I liked this Darren better though.
I laid in bed, not wanting to move. About fifteen minutes later, Darren returned to me with two plates of food, one for each of us. His pancakes were less than impressive, but it was the thought that counted.
“I told you I'm not the best cook.” He smirked at me as he watched me poke at my misshapen pancakes.
“It's fine.”
We ate on my bed. Then I took a shower and changed. Darren hung out on the couch in the living room, talking to Alice, who was more than happy to entertain him. When I saw the way that she looked at him, it made jealousy burn through me. But then it also made me think that she deserved him more than I did. Perhaps they would end up together, considering his new promiscuous nature. That would probably be for the best.
We watched television until it was time for me to go to work. Alice told him he could stay, which caused a deep stabbing in my heart. I was honestly elated when he refused her, leaving with me. We walked down to our cars together.
“No avoiding me anymore. Do you understand?” he said to me as we stood at our vehicles.
“I don't think you'll let me avoid you.” I rolled my eyes at him.
“I won't. So stop trying.”
“Fine,” I huffed.
Though my heart was still broken from what had happened with Lawrence, I found that it didn't hurt so badly when I thought of Darren. They were both slutty, no doubt, but at least Darren had never hurt me. Why did I ever cast him out of my life? He was such a good friend. He hadn't hit on me at all last night. All he wanted was to hold me, to brace me against the storm raging inside my heart. I hated myself for being so mean to him.
***
Somehow, Darren had managed to weasel himself back into my life. He integrated himself perfectly, coming over when I got off work, helping with the cooking, watching movies with Alice and I. Not once did he hit on me, and for a while, I started to think that maybe he did only want friendship. It was a strange thing to imagine after all we'd gone through, and to be honest, I wasn't sure if that was all I wanted from him.
“What are we?” I asked while we were out to dinner one afternoon.
“What do you mean?” He didn't seem affected by the question at all.
“I don't know. The relationship we have, it just seems weird. We're together almost all the time now.”
“I thought we were best friends. That's what we were before.”
“Alice is my best friend now.”
“Then what does that make me?” there was a sense of amusement in his voice.
“I don't know.” I looked at him curiously.
“I'm whatever you want me to be, Tara. I always have been.”
I traced the rim of my wine glass with my fingertip, worrying that I might turn as pink as the rosé inside. “What if I want more?”
“Then you would be a very greedy girl.” He drained his glass, eying me like a predator.
We could barely keep our hands off each other when he dropped me off at my apartment. All it took was my initiation, standing on tip toe to give him a kiss on the cheek, which I misdirected towards his lips at the last moment. It had been such a shy awkward thing. I kissed the corner of his mouth, and then I went back for seconds. By that time, his arms were wrapping around my waist. Our lips met, and then it was all fumbling desperation from that point on.
We undressed each other on the way to the bedroom, kissing and groping and caressing in between clothing articles. I smirked at the thought of the trail of clothes that Alice would find when she got home. It didn't matter though. All that mattered was taking things to the next step.
It had been nearly a month since Lawrence and I had broken up. Darren had been by my side the entire time, being completely perfect, as he always had been. He hadn't been lying. He was the man I needed him to be whenever I needed him to be it. Right now, I needed him to be my lover.
I groaned when he pressed inside of me, pulling my leg up over his hip. His naked body was to die for, muscular and hairless and gorgeous. My mouth and throat were all moans as he claimed me with a wicked ferocity, pumping into me until I was deliciously sore from our eager lovemaking. He was amazing in bed, full of so much passion.
When we were both spent, I laid in his arms, playing with his fingers. The last time I could remember feeling this satisfied was the night in my parents' house. How could I have not realized then that this was right? I never felt better than when I was in Darren's arms.
We woke up with smiles on our faces, giggling at each other like children before snuggling some more and then going for round two. When I finally emerged from the bedroom, Alice had an ear-to-ear grin on her face. I knew she was jealous, but she was also happy for me. Alice was never one to be petty or nasty. I loved her for it.
“So, I guess the two of you sealed the deal,” she teased me.
“Mhm,” I purred. I would have added that it was amazing, but right when I was about to say it, Darren came out of the bedroom, and I didn't want to inflate his ego anymore.
“Well, hot damn. Look at you, stud,” she told him, eying his naked torso. All he was wearing was boxers.
He ignored her, wrapping his arms around me and giving me a kiss on the neck. “Breakfast. Hungry.”
“Pancakes?” I hugged his arms to me.
“Pancakes.”
I cooked breakfast and we ate, and then Darren left so that I could get ready for work. Alice made me give her all the details, though she confessed she had heard a lot of them throughout the night. God must have been very pleased with me, she said, because I called out his name at least a dozen times. The way she talked about it made me blush. Darren was good at making me vocal though.
I was on cloud nine at work all day. There was a bit of extra pep in my step. Until Lawrence walked through the door of the salon and took the wind out of my sails.
“What are you doing here?” I hissed at him when I had finished with my latest client.
“You never called and I want to talk,” he told me.
“There's nothing to talk about.”
“Can you just give me a chance?” he begged.
“No,” I insisted stubbornly. “Now leave.”
“I'm not leaving until you agree to go out to dinner with me tonight.”
“I'm busy tonight,” I lied. Well, it wasn't exactly a lie. I was sure Darren would want to hang out whenever I got off work.
“Then tomorrow night.”
“Busy.”
“Then this weekend.”
“Busy.”
“You can't be busy every night, Tara.”
“Says who?”
“It's just not logical.” He frowned.
“Then let me put it to you this way; I'm too busy for you.”
“You leaving me absolutely killed me. I need to talk to you.”
“Would you leave already?” I lowered my voice, noticing that the clients and other stylists were staring.
“Not until you agree to go to dinner with me.”
“Fine. I'll go. Now leave.”
“What time do you get off work?”
“Seven.”
“I'll pick you up at seven then.”
With a sigh, I watched him walk out the door. He seemed so determined. Whatever he wanted to talk about though, I wasn't interested in listening. I had already decided that I wasn't going to set myself up to be hurt again.
During one of my breaks, I called Darren to let him know I wouldn't be home until late. When he asked why, I told him that I was going to pick up a few extra clients for the evening. It felt wrong lying to him, but I knew he would be pissed or hurt if he found ou
t I was going to dinner with Lawrence.
A little before seven, Lawrence pulled up in his BMW. I approached it with a growing knot in my stomach. This was not going to be fun.
“How was work?” he asked when I stepped inside, being as casual as if we had never broken up at all.
“It was fine until you showed up,” I replied coldly.
“Don't be like that,” he said as he pulled out of the parking lot and onto the road.
“How else should I be?”
“Friendly. I just want to talk to you.”
“Then talk. We can do that without wasting time on dinner, you know.”
“I'd like to take my time.”
I opted for remaining silent for the remainder of the drive to the restaurant. We pulled up in front of my favorite Brazilian steakhouse. It was expensive, so I knew the whole evening would be about kissing my ass. This would be his please-take-me-back spiel. I wasn't going to fall for it.
We grabbed our plates and went to the salad bar, then we settled in at our table to eat and talk. My interest was entirely devoted to eating. If he had anything to say, I would listen, but it wouldn't matter. There would be no taking him back.
“How have you been lately?” he asked.
“Good. You?”
“Not so good,” he admitted, frowning a bit.
“That's too bad,” I lied. I wanted him to hurt—to hurt as much as he had hurt me.
“I honestly thought you were going to call me.”
“There was no reason for me to call you. We're over, remember.”
“I don't want us to be over.”
“Well, we don't always get what we want in this life.”
“Listen, Tara, I know what I did was horrible. I feel bad about it, I really do. I think we can work through this though. We're both so alike. There's no reason why we can't work through this.”
“There are thirty reasons why we can't work through this.”
“Twenty-nine, if you subtract what you did with Darren,” he said coldly.
