“No, Maya. Enough!” he said, standing up and ignoring my double entendre. “I can’t take any more false hope. No more.”
Sitting up, I realized this was not going to go anyplace good. “What do you mean no more? No more what?”
He avoided looking me in the eye. “I’m not good for you. I don’t know what you ever saw in me. You need someone you can go out with and socialize in public. Someone you can dance with and not have to worry about whether he’s seeing things that torment him. You’re a very outgoing person. Look at me. I hide in a lab all day, staying away from people. You deserve better. You deserve your true match. We shouldn’t be together anymore.”
I opened my mouth and then closed it, reopened it and closed it again. Where was this coming from? Finally, I found some words and they spewed out in a jumble of confused thoughts that I didn’t even have time to censor before they spilled freely from my lips.
“How could you say that? I’m a grown woman who can make an adult decision on who she does or does not want to be with. Who do you think you are, making that decision for me? Don’t try to control me!”
“I’m not trying to control you. I’m trying to protect you.”
“We all have our things, you know. Stop with the ‘poor me’ shit. I’ve had to live with my freakishness my whole life too, and you don’t see me hiding away from reality.”
“Don’tcompare your gift with my curse!”
“Call it whatever the hell you want. It’s just words. If you didn’t want to be with me, you shouldn’t have strung me along all this time!”
“I didn’t string you along. I cared about you. I still do.”
“You cared about using me to fix your problem. Now that you think it can’t be done, you’re casting me aside. Ugh! I believed in you. No, I believed in us. And not just in our stupid cursed abilities. I believed in us.”
“Maya, you’re not listening to me. I’m doing this because I care about you and I want you to be happy. I can’t make you happy. I’m giving you your freedom. Releasing you from any obligation you feel to help me.”
“Piss off, Tristan!”
I grabbed my bag and stormed upstairs, back through the club. Too angry to be around anyone, I planned on getting out of there as quickly as possible.
As I pushed my way through the crowd, my limbs tense and lips quivering from anger, I heard My Time Has Come by the Twilight Singerscome on. I loved this song. The energy from the crowd around me made me rethink my plan to be alone. Maybe I should dance off some steam before I pouted home. What else would I do with all this angry, excess energy anyway?
I threw myself in with the crowd, trying to lose myself among them. Bits of the fight with Tristan replayed over in my mind and I tried to force it away.
One song blended into another one and still I stayed. How dare he? I can’t believe he fucking just broke up with me. How did I not even see that coming? Fuckin’ blindsided!
I took a quick break at the bar to down a couple of shots. Anything to take the edge off the pain right now.
When I went back out on the dance floor, a tall, built, blond guy dressed all in black danced with me. He was exceptionally good-looking—like Eric from True Blood—a Nordic god. He wasn’t exactly my type, but he was easy on the eyes. When I caught his ice-blue eyes, I thought of Tristan’s dark soulful ones.
Nevertheless, I danced with him, trying to forget Tristan. When the Nordic god pulled me close, I didn’t pull away as I normally would have. Strong arms around me without any emotional entanglement were quite welcome at the moment.
Maybe I should sleep with him to help me forget about this whole shitty night? Forget about Tristan? He was hot, after all. It wouldn’t be that much of a sacrifice.
Tristan
That didn’t go as planned. Didn’t Maya realize I did it for her sake, not mine?
I tried to focus on a book of spells, but found it hard to concentrate. Maybe if I put on music it would help. The song I chose made me brood even more. Something I Could Never Have.Someone I can never have.
Why don’t I listen to upbeat pop songs? Instead I find the ones that exacerbate my desolation.
Listening to the song was torture. She made it all go away. The darkness. The shadows.
Without her, all is bleak.
I pushed my chair back so quickly, the chair screeched across the floor.
Time to check on the club. Maybe all the darkness upstairs would distract me from her.
Walking up the stairs, I tried to push away the question that nagged incessantly at the back of my mind:
What have I done?
As I walked around the perimeter, nothing seemed amiss. The usual shadows. And then—the light. Her light.
Dammit—she was here! What was she still doing here? Did she stay here to torment me?
I clenched my hands. Who the hell was she dancing with?
As I watched this man paw Maya, pulling her close, my blood boiled.
How could she do this?
I pushed my way through the crowd to them.
“What the hell are you doing?”
Her mouth dropped halfway before she recovered. “It should be obvious. I’m dancing.”
“Why are you dancing here and now?”
“Because I want to.”
“This is not cool, Maya, and you know it.”
“Excuse me, Mr. Tristan ‘so goddamn superior he knows what’s best for me’ Stone. I came here long before I met you. Vamps was where I came to unwind. Do you have to ruin everything for me?”
“Stop being overdramatic, Maya.”
Her dance partner extricated himself from his I’m so good looking, watch me move dance. “Hey buddy, is there a problem?”
“Stay out of it,” I warned. “It’s not your concern.”
“No, I won’t. We were having a good time until you came along.” He got up into my face. “Who do you think you are anyway?”
“The owner of this club,” I said, glaring at him. “And you are dancing with my girl.”
“Sorry, dude,” he said, backing off and raising his hands in a conciliatory gesture. He nodded at Maya, and then walked toward the bar.
“I’m not your girl, Tristan!” Maya said. “You made that clear tonight when you fuckin’ dumped me!”
“So what are you going to do? Sleep with someone else?”
“Maybe. What do you care what I do? It’s no longer your concern.”
“Of course it is, Maya. Will you grow up and stop making a goddamn scene!”
“What are you going to do?” she said, her voice getting louder so people around us started to look. “Have one of the bouncers throw me out?” She looked around the perimeter of the dance floor.
I leaned in close to her ear and seethed, “I’ll throw you out on your sweet little ass myself if you continue to act like this.” When I pulled back, our faces were inches apart. Her blue eyes burned with an intense fire and her breathing was ragged.
“Like what?”
“Like an immature—brat!”
“Fine. Maybe I am. But at least I’ve been straight with you all along, not playing some game.”
“What game? I’ve always cared for you. Only lately I started to have doubts about us.”I watched her lips quivering as she tried to get hold of her emotions. I could just pull her close now and kiss her. End this madness once and for all. Try to forget this horrid night ever happened.
But she turned on her heel to storm off. I grabbed her hand at the last moment before she slipped away.
“I did it for you, Maya. Maybe one day you’ll see that.”
She squirmed out of my grasp. “Just leave me alone. You’re nothing but a parasite. Just using people and discarding them when you no longer need them.” She blinked away tears as if she was about to crumble and fought to hold a brave front. “Don’t worry, I’ll stay out of your precious club from now on.”
My eyes followed her as she stormed out, until the final glow of her light disap
peared out the main door.
A parasite who uses and discards people? What was she talking about? That wasn’t me at all. Why didn’t she get it?
And did I just make the biggest mistake of my life?
Fuck!
Too late now. What’s done was done.
Maya
I took off my heels and walked home, fuming as the conversations from tonight replayed over and over in my mind.
Doubts? How could he doubt us? I may have doubts about a lot of things, but I believed in us.
A car pulled up beside me.
“Hey, baby, need a lift?”
“No!” I barked, not bothering to look. Of all the times I had to have some jerk accost me, jeez.
“It’s me. From Vamps. We danced earlier tonight.”
I looked up to see the blond guy from earlier.
“Oh, hey.”
“What’s wrong? You and your boyfriend have a fight?”
“Ex-boyfriend,” I clarified. “And yes.”
“Your feet must be killing you. Let me give you a lift. I promise I won’t try anything.”
Normally, I’d tell him thanks but no thanks. But there was nothing normal about tonight. I thought I’d be spending the night doing kinky things wrapped in the arms of my lover, not stumbling home barefoot and brokenhearted after being dumped without warning.
“Yeah, sure.”
I climbed into his car, not knowing or caring what type it was. He pulled off and I gave him directions to my apartment.
“I’m Jed, by the way.”
“Maya.”
“Hey Maya, want to talk about what happened with that guy?”
“I’d rather not.”
“Okay. If you don’t mind me saying, that guy seems like a jerk. You deserve to be treated better.”
Tristan had treated me well. Until tonight.
It was my fault. I should have known it couldn’t last. But I was too caught up in the affair that it was hard to look at it objectively.
Well, I’ll learn from it. I’ll get over it one day and move on.
But why wait?
I didn’t want to be alone tonight. I didn’t want to think about him. The hurt could wait until tomorrow.
When we reached my apartment, I said, “Do you want to come in for a drink?”
After a couple of glasses of wine and even a few laughs, Jed and I went into my bedroom. We fumbled onto my bed, tearing off our clothes.
This is what I needed to forget about Tristan—sex without emotion. Just straight-out, no-nonsense sex with a stranger. I couldn’t even remember the last time that happened.
After very little foreplay that involved groping my breasts, Jed said, “I’m not that hard. Can you give me head?”
Floored by such a flat-out request from a stranger, I said, “Umm—I don’t do that to guys I don’t know.”
“But you’ll have sex with them?”
I smirked. “This is an exception.” I reached for his cock and started stroking it. “How about I do this?”
“Yeah, that’s good,” he said. When he thought he was ready, he put a condom on and tried to enter me.
“Babe, this is kind of tough. You’re not that wet.”
Grrr. I never had this problem with Tristan. Suppressing a comeback about foreplay, I grabbed some lube from my nightstand to help things along.
When he was inside me, he pumped away. The same rhythm, not twists, no turns. I looked up at him. He was good-looking, but that was about it. Just a pretty picture I felt no connection to.
He looks like Eric in True Blood. Think of Eric.
I closed my eyes and tried to conjure a fantasy, but instead, I saw Tristan’s eyes staring back at me. I remembered Tristan’s skillful hands on my cheek, my breasts. The way he lit me on fire just touching them, something I’d never experienced before with another man.
Tristan and his willingness to experiment with different things from different angles. Tristan who looked at me as if I was a goddess when I was on top of him. Tristan who made sure I felt good—no, incredible.
Fuck! This wasn’t working. Bad plan.
I should just get on top and give myself an orgasm to move this thing along. Or maybe just give on him entirely and take care of myself later.
“Oh—oh—oh!” He pumped into me and the decision was made for me. Too late.
Well, that was a waste. And now I was stuck with him here in my apartment. Hope he didn’t want to stay the night.
God no!
Crap, now how do I get him out of here?
“That was great,” I lied. “But I have to work early.”
“No problem, babe.” I didn’t look at him as he got dressed. “Why don’t you give me your number and I’ll call you.”
Yeah, right. As if he would. And as if I wanted him to.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” I said. “Like I said, I just broke up with someone.”
He looked a little confused. But then he said, “Yeah, I get it. Okay. See you around.”
After Jed left, I picked up a discarded shoe and threw it across the living room. It knocked over a cactus I loved and I instantly felt remorse. Seeing the dirt cascade over my rug reminded me when I knocked a plant over the first night I went to Tristan’s. I was a clumsy fool. Clumsy in everything, especially relationships.
I salvaged the cactus, feeling guilty about my outburst. The cactus paid me back by pricking me several times. It was okay, I deserved it.
When Tristan called the next morning, I ignored it, still too angry at him to want to hear his voice—and now feeling guilty about banging some guy the night before. In retrospect, that wasn’t a very good decision.
How do I get out of my own head?
I looked for my Essential Nina Simone record and put it on the record player. My grandmother gave it to me when she went into a nursing home and restoring it to good working condition was what I became fixated on after she died. It helped me stay connected to her. My grandparents always had a record playing and I inherited several albums that had survived over the years—anything from Elvis to classical to old comedy albums.
I pictured them playing records when they were younger, feeling love, happiness, sadness—all sorts of emotions to fit the mood. Maybe listening to comedy albums together. They were married for over fifty-five years. What was wrong with me then? A relationship I thought was the real thing didn’t even last fifty-five days.
I put the record on and settled onto the sofa, staring at the ceiling as she sang about wanting sugar in her bowl. By the time she got to Since I Fell for You,I felt the pull. I wanted to call him back. But no! How could he do that to me?
In the Dark didn’t help matters. I remembered the sexy dances, the hot nights in the lab, the time in the gardens.
Don’t think about him! It’s over.
When the record ended I closed the record player cover and plugged in my iPod. I needed something else. I looked through my music collection and stopped on Hole’s Live Through This album. Perfect. During heavier songs, I flung my body dancing and sing-screaming around my apartment as if trying to rid myself of demons.
He doesn’t care about how I feel. How could he if he broke my heart?
And when Courtney Love sang slower songs, I sang along, lamenting my loss.
How could I numb myself from this pain?
Hey, it was better this way. I didn’t want to be in a relationship anyway, did I? I just thought he was hot. I got what I wanted and could now go on living my life independently.
What do people do to calm themselves in times of distress? Oh yeah, they drank a cup of soothing tea. I could do that. Despite my preference for coffee.
I boiled some water and did exactly what you’re not supposed to do—I watched the kettle, waiting for the sound of a screaming banshee indicating that the water was ready. When the kettle finally screamed several long minutes later, I grabbed a tea bag and threw it into a mug and poured hot water on it. Too bad I didn’t have
those fancy teacups like Tristan’s parents had. A cute china teapot.
Stop! The tea is supposed to help you not think of Tristan. You’re not supposed to be reminded of the time you had tea with his family.
Fuck, fuck, fuck—get out of my head!
I gave up on my tea soon enough. It wouldn’t live up to the Stone family standards, I realized with chagrin.
As the day went on, my anger dissipated. I remembered the times we spent together. Happy times. The words we shared. The way I thought we’d connected.
Why did he have to be such a jerk?
I found my Amy Winehouse playlist and put it on shuffle as I stared at the ceiling. When she sang Back to Black,I let myself wallow in the black despair of a broken heart. When Our Day Will Come came on, I felt the pull. I wanted to call him back. But no! How could he do that to me?
I lit a candle and watched the flame. Fuck, would I ever look at a candle the same way again? Damn you, Tristan Stone! I wish I’d never met you!
I remembered the sexy dances, the hot nights in the lab, the time in the gardens.
Don’t think about him! It’s over.
Then I listed to Love is a Losing Game. And I listened to it twice more.
I let the guilt wash over me as I moved to the couch. You Know I’m No Good, the ultimate confessional of a woman cheating.Yeah, I probably shouldn’t have slept with Jed. What good did it do?
But I didn’t cheat on Tristan. He broke up with me. We were over.
I wished I had someone around to talk to about this. Damn you, Nike. Where the hell are you?
I sat down at my laptop to write her another e-mail she probably wouldn’t read or respond to. But what else could I do with this excess energy and all these emotions that I didn’t know what to do with? I couldn’t just sit around and pine all night listening to music.
The email I wrote to Nike could probably be considered a short story. In it, I told her the whole shebang about how things had developed with Tristan. I even revealed my connection to fire, which I never told her about during the years we worked together at the firehouse. Being able to share with my best friend was something I’d wanted to do for ages. Whenever she called me her lucky charm when we went out on fire calls together, I had wanted to tell her why.
Fiery Nights Page 11
