Tied Together

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Tied Together Page 7

by Z. B Heller


  Nicole was waiting for me at the entrance to her high rise. She lived in an area called the Gold Coast, which was a wealthy part of Chicago. The Gold Coast had tall skyscraper condos, elite stores, and it was walking distance from Chicago’s iconic Michigan Avenue. If my nerves weren’t on fire before, they blazed an inferno now. Nicole was a girl who expected a certain level of extravagance. I was a premed student with an empty wallet and a small credit line. I wasn’t quite sure how I would ever live up to her lifestyle.

  Ryan never makes me feel unworthy, I thought absently as Nicole strode over to my car.

  She wore a gold shimmery dress that covered one shoulder, but left the other one bare. It was also short—very short. I was worried that as soon as she crossed her legs, everyone would get a show of what was underneath there. I didn’t want to know.

  Fuck, I should want to know.

  She opened the passenger door and slipped into my car; her large earrings tinkled like bells on each ear as her head moved. Her hair was done up, and I wanted to cough from the overbearing mixture of her hairspray and perfume.

  “Hi, handsome.” She flashed a smile through her flaming red lipstick. “You look smoking hot.” She gave me a hungry once-over. I guessed she approved the outfit, but she would have approved more if I were naked.

  “You look very nice,” I said, returning the compliment.

  “Oh, well, I wanted to look good for you, but I hope you don’t mind that I’m not wearing a bra with this dress.” She winked.

  Oh, fucking shit balls. I noticed her eyes dart toward my groin, assuming her remark would have a certain affect. I, too, hoped to get a hard-on, but nothing moved below the belt. I needed to change the subject fast.

  “Do you like Italian?”

  Her face fell. “Umm, sure I do.”

  “I thought we’d have some dinner, and then we can see where the night takes us.” I hoped the night would take me straight back home after dinner was over.

  She seemed to brighten up again and gave me a devilish smirk. “I like that idea. Maybe we can come back here for after-dinner drinks.”

  I may have been a little naïve, but even I knew what that translated to: sex.

  Instead of responding, I put the car in drive and headed to the restaurant, which was in Little Italy. The drive was short, and we pulled up to the valet in no time. I hated using the valet because it was about twice the amount to park. It also reminded me how pissed I was at myself for letting Ryan talk me into getting a car, considering I always meant to use public transportation.

  “Such a gentleman,” she said when I opened the door to the restaurant. She dragged her nails across my chest as she walked past me. Still, there was no reaction from down below.

  The restaurant was small and crowded because it was Saturday night. A very nice-looking, tall man with dark hair and dark eyes greeted us. “Welcome to Antonio’s. Do you have a reservation?”

  Would Ryan think this guy was hot?

  Uninvited jealousy rushed through my veins. Images of Ryan flirting with this man, kissing him, wrapping himself around him to drive into him blanketed my thoughts.

  “Brandon?” Nicole bumped my shoulder, and I blinked away the fog I’d gotten lost in.

  “Oh, sorry. The reservation is under Ford.”

  The man looked in his reservation book for confirmation. “Ah yes, Mr. Ford.” He took two menus from the stand. “Please, follow me.”

  Nicole and I walked past the other patrons until we got to our seats. The tables looked elegant draped in white cloth with fine silverware and wine glasses. The host pulled out Nicole’s chair for her. She smiled the same smile she had given me when I picked her up. I couldn’t help but sneer at him when he handed me my menu.

  “This looks wonderful, Brandon,” Nicole cooed as she glanced at the menu.

  “I heard it was good; a friend told me about it.”

  Ryan had told me about it.

  “I’m looking at all the food on other people’s tables; it all looks good enough to eat. Kind of like you.”

  She looked at me and licked her lips as if I was the main course of this meal. I swallowed hard and shifted in my seat. I looked away from her and around the restaurant when something caught my eye. Two men sat in the back of the dining room, one with his back to us, but from what I could tell, he had a head of familiar brown messy hair. My pulse picked, and my hands began to shake. When he turned, my stomach dropped. It wasn’t Ryan.

  “Brandon!” Nicole startled me out of my thoughts.

  “Sorry,” I said, adjusting my glasses. “I thought I saw someone I knew.”

  “Well, if he’s as good-looking as you, maybe we can invite him for after-dinner drinks.” She stuck her tongue out to swipe her bottom lip. My jaw dropped a few inches.

  “I’m pretty sure I’m not into that kind of thing,” I said as I wiped the sweat forming on my neck. Before this date, I thought I might be over my head. Now, I knew for sure I was. I reached for my goblet of water to take a drink when the waiter came to our table.

  “Hello.” He nodded at us. “My name is Ryan, and I’ll be your server this evening.”

  Water dribbled out of my mouth, and I choked.

  “Sir! Are you all right?” The waiter rushed over to me and patted my back. I took my napkin from my lap and wiped at the mess that trickled down my shirt.

  “I’m fine. Thank you.” I waved my hand and then looked at Nicole. She had one eyebrow raised and the corner of her mouth was tugged up. I couldn’t imagine her thoughts were good.

  The waiter took our order, and I tried to make small talk with Nicole. She was a trust fund baby and was in between jobs. According to her, she was biding her time until she found Mr. Right and wouldn’t have to worry about working. It made more sense why she desperately wanted to go out with me. During our conversation at the bar, I’d told her I was in school for premed. In some eyes, being a doctor equaled money. What a life it would be to be a doctor’s wife.

  Ryan wouldn’t mooch off me when I become a doctor.

  Whoa! Wrong thinking.

  We finished dinner, and I paid the check. I knew if I did continue dating Nicole, my wallet wouldn’t be large enough. As we left the restaurant, she walked close to me and took my hand in hers. It was an odd feeling. Her skin was silky and smooth, no callouses, and those damn fingernails dug into my skin. Ouch. I handed my ticket to the valet, and before I could blink, Nicole wrapped herself around me, bringing our bodies closer together. She wrapped her arms around my neck, and the bracelets she wore jingled in my ear.

  “So,” she purred. “Are you coming back to my place?”

  I had to make a decision. My mind raced when I thought of all the possible outcomes spending the night with Nicole would have. What would Ryan think? Would he give me the brotherly pat on the back? What would I think about myself afterward? Would the answers regarding my sexuality be resolved? I needed to sleep with her in order to find out what I wanted—to find out what it would be like to be with a woman. Nicole was willing, that part was blatantly obvious. This was my opportunity to prove to myself my feelings for Ryan were all in my head.

  “Sure,” was the only answer I could manage. Nicole beamed and let go of me when the car pulled up. The valet exited the driver’s side, holding the car door open for me. Then he crossed in front of the car to open Nicole’s door for her.

  The ride back to Nicole’s apartment was silent. I was afraid I would back out if I said a word. We were almost back when we got caught by a red light. I had my eyes trained on the light above when Nicole placed her hand on my thigh. I looked at her, but she was looking straight onto the street, a little grin on her lips. The light turned green, and I drove on with her hand on my thigh. As we drove, her hand climbed my thigh ever so slowly. Sweat bloomed at my hairline, and I tried hard to not bat her hand away even though I wanted to. Her building came into sight, and I blew a sigh of relief.

  We got out of the car and entered the building. She waved to
the doorman, and he returned a wave with a smirk that said, “Way to go! Catching another one.” Nicole pressed the elevator button and took my hand again. I bit my nails on my free hand and started to bounce on my heels. My feet wanted to turn and run the other way. I kept telling myself I wanted this, I needed this—I needed her. Right?

  The elevator opened, and I wasn’t surprised Nicole pressed the number for the top floor.

  “I have an amazing view of the city. Especially in the bedroom.”

  My mouth turned dry and my hands began to tremble. She noticed and took my hand and placed it right on her breast.

  “You’re so quiet. Perhaps you’re the type of man that likes a woman to take control.”

  I sucked in a breath, but out of surprise not lust. Nicole must have read it as the latter and stood on her toes to place a kiss on my lips. I took inventory of the kiss. Her lips were small, thin, and tasted manufactured, perhaps due to her lipstick. This kiss was so different than kissing Ryan. His lips were rough, strong, and confident. Her lips were too soft and all wrong. She backed away and looked at me, my hand still resting on her breast.

  “Aren’t you the shy one,” she said—but not as a question. “That’s okay, I like shy men. Easier to show them what feels good. Men who are set in their ways are like old dogs you can’t show new tricks.”

  “It’s just been a little while. With all the work I’ve had to do at school, I haven’t been able to date a lot,” I said, hoping the lie sounded convincing.

  Before I could think of what tricks she was referring to, the elevator stopped at her floor. Nicole led us to the apartment while she rummaged in her purse for keys. She opened the door, pulled me in, and before I could even look at her apartment, she pushed me against the wall. She was everywhere: kissing, licking, and caressing me while I stood frozen in fear. She went for my belt buckle and had my pants unzipped in a matter of seconds. She dug into my boxer briefs and then paused. I looked down at my flaccid dick.

  Christ.

  “Is something wrong?” Nicole looked up at me like a puppy being left behind at the pound.

  “Uh, no. I just…”

  Say it. Say you don’t want her. You don’t want to be here.

  The words weren’t out of my mouth before she was down on her knees with my dick in her mouth. She sucked with zeal, moaning like a seasoned porn star.

  She popped me out of her mouth, still stroking me with her hand, and looked up at me with doe eyes.

  “Mmm, baby, you taste so good.” Words I’m sure she’d said to many men before me.

  I closed my eyes and silently prayed for something to happen.

  I want this. I want this.

  Only one image appeared in my head. Ryan: Ryan kissing me, holding me, and stroking me until I broke free. Ryan never judged me or lied to me. He never pretended to be anything he wasn’t and told the world to fuck off if they didn’t like it. He would help me and guide me to be the person who hid so deep inside me. I loved him, and I needed to be with him.

  Tears ran down my face. My heart wanted to burst into a thousand different pieces, but there was only one person able to piece them back together. And it wasn’t the person down on her knees in front of me.

  “Brandon, what’s wrong?” Nicole frowned at me in confusion.

  “Nicole, I can’t do this. I’m sorry.” She looked at my limp dick in her hand. I felt like such an asshole as I removed her hand and put myself back together in my pants.

  “Is it something I said? I mean, we can watch some porn or something to get you going?”

  I had to hand it to her for not relenting. “No, it’s not that.” I took a deep breath, knowing the next words were going to hurt. “I’m in love with someone else.”

  She dropped back on her knees. “Oh, I see.” I offered my hand to help her off the floor. She took it and stood. She smoothed out her dress. “Well, she’s one very lucky girl.”

  “Man,” I said. “He’s a very lucky man. And I hope you’re right and I can live up to the man he deserves me to be.”

  That left her speechless. But instead of taking the time to explain myself further, I opened the door and walked out. As the saying goes, when one door closes, another one opens. I hoped that the other door opening was a life with Ryan.

  I paced around the apartment like a lion in heat looking for another manly lion to fuck senseless. I clutched my phone in my hand so hard I thought the phone might break open. I sent Brandon a text this morning asking how his date went last night. I had several thoughts on what he would say.

  “She was so hot. I got her in the car, and we didn’t make it to the restaurant before I fucked her in the parking lot.” Or “Did you see the size of her titties?” And “We totally need to go back to the bar so I can pick up more chicks. Maybe we’ll make that a nightly thing.”

  Then I thought he’d say that the date went great, and he planned on asking her out again. “We made out for a while and I hit third base. She’s totally shaved down there and I can’t wait to taste her essence. I plan on taking her to the Italian restaurant you and I really like and then maybe walk about Millennium Park. Hey, wasn’t that something you and I were supposed to do? Hope you don’t mind, but I’d rather do it with Nicole“.

  My final thoughts were: “It was amazing. Nicole is the girl of my dreams. We’re going to Vegas to elope and then I’m going to fuck her until she can no longer walk. But that’s okay because I will glide her around in a wheelchair for eternity because she is my heart and soul. Oh, and then we are going to have ten kids and call them all Ryan to honor you.”

  Bile rose in my throat when I thought about Brandon with Nicole. I didn’t have the right to have any of those feelings. He didn’t belong to me, so why did I have to hold on to that one memory from my high school graduation and then the gym? Maybe because it was a spark of hope that the person I cared the most about felt the same thing I did. He said that he was just curious, and a lot of people are curious about their sexuality. I could have sworn there was something more there. The connection was so real, so alive. Or maybe it was just wishful thinking on my part.

  My phone buzzed in my hand, and I almost let it slip because my hands were trembling from nerves. I looked at the screen and read the message.

  Date didn’t work out. Nice girl, but not the right fit.

  I let out a yelp and did a fist pump in the air. Sam came out of his room looking sleepy and disheveled. His hot pink silk pajamas were wrinkled, and his hair stuck up in every direction.

  “What on earth are you causing such a stir about out here? Did Ricky Martin finally realize that his life is worth nothing without me?”

  I lifted my eyebrow and shook my head. “Still expecting him to show up, I see. You know he has kids, right? Twins.”

  “Sugar, I can play stepdaddy. We’d just send those kids off to boarding school so my man and I can bask in the Miami sun and have monkey butt sex all day long,” he said before blowing on his perfectly manicured nails.

  I rolled my eyes. “So glad you’re keeping that dream alive.”

  “Pfft. So says the man who’s pining over his straight best friend.” Sam looked down at my phone clutched in my hand.

  “I am not pining after my best friend. I’m just hoping the date didn’t go well because I didn’t think that girl was right for him.”

  “Mmm-hmm. And she wasn’t right because she didn’t have a penis and her name didn’t start with an R?”

  I fused my lips together and crossed my arms over my chest. There was no point in arguing with Sam. He was able to read me from forty miles away. He said it was a special gift. I personally thought it was his way lure men in. With that line and Sam dressed in drag, he could pull men in even if their dicks were as limp as a ten-day-old banana. Gross.

  “Since I’m assuming your lover boy is free tonight, why don’t you both come down to the club and watch me perform. I’ve got a whole new Madonna act that I came up with.”

  “Now there’s an o
riginal idea—drag and Madonna,” I said, knowing that would raise Sam’s hackles. Sam lived and breathed all things Madonna. According to him, Madonna was really Jesus Christ in female form. He was convinced of this because he said who else would strap themselves to a cross and sounded like angels weeping with joy when they sang. The answer was easy; she wanted to make millions of dollars off dumbasses like him.

  Sam sidled up to me until we were nose to nose. He spoke softly, but sternly. “Do not say such horrendous things about the living Lord. One day she will destroy all the things you hold dear.” He slowly backed away and turned around with dramatic flair, stalking back to his bedroom and slamming the door.”

  I let out a small snort. Sam would stay upset for all of three seconds.

  Looking back down at my phone, I thought about how to respond to Brandon’s text. I didn’t want to sound overly enthusiastic, so I went for simple.

  She wasn’t right for you. Glad it didn’t pan out.

  Perhaps I needed to work on my tact. However, I followed up with an opportunity for some bro time. Bros before hos and all that crap. Shit, gotta remember tact.

  Sam invited us to go to Pearl tonight to catch his show. It will be good for you to get out. It’s a huge club with a dance floor and bar. We can get loaded, dance, and you can forget being with girls.

  I was starting to think that someone needed to check my texts before I sent them. I started to bite my nails as I waited for Brandon to text back. My phone buzzed.

  Sounds fun. What time? You’re going to be designated driver tonight. I’m going to drink myself numb.

  Shit. I thought about a drunk, dancing Brandon, and felt myself harden. What am I getting myself into?

 

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