by Mia Kayla
He reached for my hand, but mine stayed in place. It would have been easy to meet him and link our fingers together. During this charade, it had become natural for him to extend his hand and for me to grab his in return, but tonight, I was here with Brian, and I had to remember that.
From my peripheral view, I could see Brian heading toward us, just on cue, and as he approached, the uneasy, nervous feelings I’d felt in the car rushed back.
“Hey, Kent. Thanks for making it, man,” he said, gripping Kent’s hand firmly.
“Any reason to drink. First round is on me for your birthday,” Kent replied, taking a step away from us.
“The line is moving, so we should go.” Brian affectionately kissed me and grabbed my hand to lead me through the crowd.
I glanced behind me. Kent had his hands fisted at his sides while looking at my hand linked with Brian’s. I couldn’t read his face.
Inside, the music roared, and the dimmed lights highlighted our surroundings. The place was packed with people standing shoulder to shoulder. We pushed ourselves to a spot against the bar and made room for all of Brian’s friends.
As promised, Kent took the first round. When he ordered shots of tequila for everyone, I made a face. This was going to be a fast night. I had to pace myself because it was Brian’s birthday, and I would be the designated driver.
I licked the salt off my hand, downed the shot, and sucked on the lime quickly, feeling the liquor go down and burn the back of my throat. “Kent Tequila? Really?” I scrunched my face, feeling the aftertaste.
“Beth, it’s not like you can’t drink,” Kent said above the music.
My thoughts flickered back to the first time we’d gone clubbing together. It felt so very long ago, and I smiled at the memory.
Brian reached for my hand. “Hey, some of my friends just arrived. Let’s go say hi.” He looked to Kent and gave him a nod. “Excuse us.”
I felt Kent’s eyes burning a hole through me as Brian and I drifted through the crowd. After a while, I peered behind me, and two girls were standing by Kent’s side, flirting with him. I cringed inwardly, noticing as each girl tried to top the other while vying for his attention. I watched as Kent laughed at something the shorter one had said, and then the taller one leaned in to whisper something in his ear.
It figured that Kent would pick up two attractive girls within the first fifteen minutes of being in the bar. I glanced to either side of him, and I noticed other girls were also eyeing him. From his clothes, to the way he carried himself, Kent looked like he had money. I couldn’t decipher if women were after him for that or if it was his handsome face and fitted shirt over his toned body.
He bought drinks for the girls still talking to him, and I wondered if he would take one or both of them home tonight. I knew it was his usual routine, but today, it left a bad aftertaste in my mouth.
Today, I didn’t like it.
I wanted to take him by the collar and tell him, You deserve better than those girls. Don’t do it.
But I had no right to. I couldn’t be protective when this was the lifestyle he’d chosen to live. Most importantly, because he wasn’t mine, I had no right to challenge what he decided to do.
When he caught my stare, his smile disappeared. His face turned serious while the barflies continued to laugh around him. As they tried to get a reaction from him, he ignored them completely while he stared at me so intently that his look alone sent shivers down my spine. I felt a gravitational pull toward him, his eyes beckoning me forward, and in that brief second, it was as if we were the only two people in the room.
I finally shook myself out of the trance and broke the awkwardness in my usual Bethany way. I shot him a cheesy smile, pointed to the girls, and gave him two thumbs-up. He didn’t return my smile. Instead, he slowly and painfully tore his eyes from mine, which left me feeling empty.
Standing behind Brian, I placed my arms around his waist. He pivoted around to wrap his arms around me, and he placed a kiss on my lips. I tasted the beer he had just drunk as he tipped me back.
Bringing me forward, he leaned down and nuzzled my ear. “For my birthday, I want to take you home,” Brian said, lightly tracing his fingertips at the small of my back, just under my tank top before the top of my jeans.
Instead of my hormones raging at his words, my first thought was Kent.
Brian pulled me in tighter against him as he kissed me more deeply. I felt his tongue enter me. I knew he was starting to feel the alcohol because this was not typical Brian behavior. He wasn’t normally overly affectionate in front of other people. Part of me thought he was staking a claim on me because Kent was here.
When Brian released me, I wasn’t sure why, but my eyes flipped toward Kent’s direction. His mouth was set in a straight line. The women continued to talk to him, but he was oblivious to their one-sided conversation.
The feeling of butterflies fluttering in the pit of my stomach was back, and I looked away. I was physically by Brian, standing next to him with his arms around me, but my thoughts were at the opposite end of the bar.
Thirty minutes passed, and I noticed that Kent had bought more rounds of drinks. More women were surrounding him. He pounded back shots, and by the speed he was going, I would have to ask Brian or one of his friends to carry Kent out.
“Excuse me, I’ll be back,” I said to Brian. One glance at his glossed over eyes indicated he was equally wasted.
I moved toward the opposite end of the bar to control the train wreck I knew was going to happen.
When Kent glanced up, he smiled slyly. “Beth, let’s have a shot.”
The girl beside him giggled like an idiot, and I moved past her to get into Kent’s face. “I think you’ve had enough. At least pace yourself,” I said, taking the drink out of his hand.
“Don’t ruin my fun. I just started,” he slurred with a drunken smile on his face.
A busty blonde maneuvered in front of me, leaning into him. “Yeah, don’t ruin his fun, honey. The party just started.” She placed her hand on his inner thigh and peered up at him through her fake eyelashes. “Unless you want to take this party to your place,” she said, brushing her chest against him.
Women had no shame. I felt my temperature rise as I glared at the little skank in front of me. I turned to face Kent and shoved the girl off of him. “Just so you know, you’re not driving,” I stated.
“Bitch,” she snapped. Her sweet face turned vicious as she lifted her hand to smack me.
Kent blocked her path and gripped my hand as he pulled me through the crowd. Before I knew it, we were outside the bar. The brisk air hit my arms, causing goose bumps, and I jerked my hand away from his to wrap my arms around myself.
“What are you doing?” he asked, leaning closer to get in my face.
“Nothing. I’m just telling you, if you’re going to take that whore home, you can’t drive,” I snapped, rubbing my shoulders. “Where are your keys?” I placed my hand out and narrowed my eyes at him.
His eyes moved to my lips before slowly dropping down to my low-cut top. Finally meeting my eyes again, he gave me a look that was so intense and so hot that it bore straight into my deepest core, warming me in the cool air.
He shook his head. “I’ll be fine,” he said, turning away from me.
I grabbed his arm and jerked him to face me. “I want your keys, Kent. Give me your keys. Don’t be stupid!” I yelled.
People turned toward my direction and I didn’t care that I was causing a scene.
He took a step forward, grabbed both of my elbows, and pulled me into him until his face was inches from mine. “Why are you doing this to me, Beth?” he yelled.
I could smell the liquor on his breath. He was so close that it was unnerving. He looked to my lips. “What do you want from me?” he whispered.
I felt that electricity, that zing between us again. The hold he had on me, just with his chestnut eyes catching my emerald ones, was intense. I fell silent. I couldn’t form words. I c
ouldn’t move. I couldn’t breathe.
“What do you want?” he whispered again.
One of his hands slipped from my arm to my waist, grazing my flesh between my tank top and jeans. Warmth spread throughout my whole body, initiating from where his hand met my skin. His fingertips dug into my back, my bare skin, pushing me closer to him.
“Your keys,” I said breathlessly, looking into his chestnut eyes.
“Come with me. Drive my car home. Make sure I make it back okay. Leave with me,” he said softly, looking at my lips.
A few more inches, and it would be so easy to feel his lips against mine.
And I wanted to.
I wanted so badly to close the gap between us, to finally allow our lips to meet.
I’d never felt such an attraction, a pull so strong that it took all my willpower to close my eyes to compose myself.
Everything is changing.
I felt it, the charged air around us, his look, his stance, his more than friendly touches.
I had to rein things in—now.
I had to get things back in order. If I wanted to save our friendship, to get any form of normalcy back between us, I had to right things.
Maybe in another lifetime when Kent isn’t with a different woman every night…
When he held some sort of job or showed some sort of responsibility, maybe, just maybe we could be together. But he could never be the man I wanted for myself, the one I pictured for myself because I would never force a man I’d grown to care for to change, not for anyone, particularly not for me.
“I’m here with Brian,” I whispered, speaking mostly to myself. “I’m going home with him.”
Those words broke the connection between us, and as soon as his touch left me, I felt empty.
He staggered, moving back, and his gaze seemed unfocused. I knew those words hurt him, but they needed to be said, not only for him but also for me. I had to remind myself that I’d come with Brian. I was here with him.
“I just want your keys, Kent. I don’t want you driving home drunk.”
My eyes flickered to the bar behind me and back to meet his face. There was a tightness around his eyes that made my heart hurt. I didn’t like his demeanor, and I didn’t want to yell anymore. I wanted to know he was safe, but most of all, I wanted to erase that desolate look on his face.
I reached out for his hand. “Please, can I have your keys?”
I gave his hand a squeeze, and he looked down to where we were joined.
“I don’t want you driving drunk. I don’t want you to get hurt,” I whispered, my heart hurting for a reason I couldn’t place.
He furrowed his eyebrows, still looking to where our hands met.
A moment passed between us, and he pulled out his keys from his pocket, dropped them on the ground, and turned toward the busy street.
“Beth,” he said, still facing the other direction as his shoulders slumped, “you deserve happiness.”
With that, he walked away.
The night went from bad to worse. By the time it was over, Brian was piss-ass drunk. He was a sloppy drunk, so much so that we were kicked out of the bar by two burly bouncers. He had drunk himself into oblivion, and he was throwing up out the window all the way back to Chicago. It took his roommate and me over an hour to get dead-weight Brian out of the car, into his apartment, and undressed. It also didn’t help that Brian’s roommate was nowhere near sober.
I took a cab back to my apartment because my feet ached and my back hurt, and I was unbelievably tired and pissed off. All I wanted was to fall asleep in my own bed and not next to Brian, who had been snoring loudly when I tucked him in.
When my head hit the pillow, I tossed and turned. I wanted to shut off my mind to all that had happened and all the confusion going on in my brain, but sleep wouldn’t come. It wouldn’t come because I was worried about Kent, wondering if he’d made it home safely.
I ended up calling him over and over, but he never answered.
I didn’t know when sleep had finally taken over, but I knew it had because I woke up the next morning with the phone right next to my ear while a woman’s voice said, “If you’d like to make a call, please try again.”
My pounding on the door accelerated louder and louder while the beat of my heart raced in my chest. I’d been calling Kent for two days, and he hadn’t picked up. The last time I’d seen him was when he left the bar drunk.
When he opened the door, I released the breath that I had been holding. His hair was disheveled and he looked like a mess but I didn’t care. I was just so relieved to see him in person, safe in front of me. As I walked in the room, I noticed all the shades were drawn, and his apartment reeked of a foul smell.
“Where have you been? I’ve been worried about you. I was about to call your mom, but I didn’t want to worry her,” I said, pushing past him and barging into the condo.
“Not feeling well.” He slouched and made his way toward the couch.
I followed behind him and surveyed the room. Liquor bottles and beer cans were on the floor, and shot glasses and tumblers spanned every inch of the coffee table.
I dropped my bag on the hardwood floor and started to draw up the shades. I heard Kent huff as I drew up the first set. He pulled a pillow over his head to block the sunlight from hitting his face.
“Did you have a party and not invite me?” My head lifted toward his bedroom, and I was relieved that there wasn’t a woman in his bed.
I walked to his kitchen, got out a garbage bag, and started tossing out the cans and bottles, one by one. With each drop into the bag, I could feel my temperature rising. “Do you want to die from alcohol poisoning or something?” I asked, hearing the bottle drop with a ping as it hit the bottom of the bag touching the floor.
“Seriously, what’s the matter with you? I don’t want to be your mom, but what the hell is this? I mean, you can party, but party responsibly,” I scolded.
I stomped toward him and lifted the pillow from his head. “Are you hearing me right now? What’s the matter with you?”
He lifted his head to look at me. The bags under his eyes were noticeably dark. “What do you care?”
I was taken aback by his tone, but I let it pass. “I care that you don’t die,” I said, glaring at him. “I’ve been calling you. The least you could have done was call me back to tell me you’re alive.”
He sat up so slowly as if every bone in his body ached, and he placed his head in both hands. “How’s Brian?” he asked, his voice sharp.
I reeled back, startled by his question. “Okay,” I replied, unsure where this was headed.
“Did you give him his birthday present?” Kent snapped, lifting his head to meet my eyes, his jaw clenched.
I flinched at his words, the tone of his voice, and the look he was giving me.
I didn’t want to talk about this. I didn’t want to relive the other night or talk about how it had taken me forever and a half to get Brian home in one piece. “I’m not talking about Brian with you,” I said, pulling the garbage bag tighter to my side.
“And why not?” he asked as he stood up. “You tell me everything.” He inched toward me, reeking of alcohol. “Tell me, why doesn’t he know about mommy dearest?” His eyes grew dark.
His proximity quickened my pulse and warmed my insides.
“I just haven’t gotten the chance to tell him everything yet,” I said, moving away, as his look raked me in.
Kent stalked until he was a foot away from me, and I couldn’t breathe.
“Why do you tell me everything?” he asked.
“I don’t know,” I whispered.
When he took a step forward, I took a step back, afraid of what I’d do if he got too close.
“Why do you tell me and not the guy you’re dating?” Kent asked, towering over me.
“I told you, I haven’t gotten around to it,” I said, totally aware of his nearness. My pulse quickened at his proximity and I did all I could to steady my breathing.
“Why not? You’ve been dating long enough. Does he know about Nana?” he said, taking another step in my direction. “Why do you tell me when you’re in a relationship with him? I just want to know why.”
I backed up farther until I felt the coffee table hit the back of my knees. There was nowhere else to go, and my whole being was hyperaware of his body by mine.
“What’s the matter with you? I told you, I don’t know. I haven’t gotten to it yet.”
He aligned himself in front of me, his face inches from mine. He looked briefly to my lips and then back to my eyes. “Why do you confide in me? Why me?” he asked so softly, his warm breath on my face.
My heart stuttered in my chest. He was so close that I could taste him, and every ounce of my body wanted him nearer.
“Why?” he asked.
I closed my eyes. Before I could do something I would regret, I pushed him away from me with both hands, dropping the garbage bag I’d been holding. “Leave me alone. I told you, I don’t know why. I came to drop off your keys. I made Caroline drive me this morning to pick up your car.”
I turned to walk out the door. “I’m glad you’re alive. When you’re normal again, you can call me.” I shut the door behind me while my heart pounded loudly in my ears. I stormed into the elevator, and as soon as the door shut, I used the wall as support while I tried to calm my raging pulse.
What the hell is happening between us?
Twenty-four long-stemmed roses were delivered to my desk the next morning.
Caroline peeked over her cubicle, beaming at me. “Oh, Beth, you live the life,” she said.
Little did she know, the life she thought was so great was becoming really hard to maintain.
I opened the card, knowing it could be from only one person.
I’M SORRY. FORGIVE ME.
BE READY AFTER WORK. WE ARE HAVING DINNER WITH MY PARENTS.
WE’RE GETTING ENGAGED TODAY.
I blinked a couple of times, my eyes zoning in on one word. Engaged.
