by Pamela Ann
Steamed lobsters, pasta with white sauce, garlic bread, and an excellent white wine completed the meal, although the guys opted to have beers instead of the wine.
My brother seated himself at the head of the table while Drew and I chose to sit across from each other. As nervous as I was, I couldn’t help eating not one, not two, but three medium-sized succulent lobster tails. They were to die for when dipped in butter sauce.
I hadn’t realized how starved I was until my brother cheekily pointed out that I still had a hard time resisting some of my favorite foods, even though I had claimed I was hell-bent on practicing portion control. I loved my brother, but at times like these, he should know better than to point out that my soul was still a diehard fat-ass. Nevertheless, men were unperturbed when it came to women’s sensitivity about body image. It was a golden fact as old as time.
“Spencer is insisting that you come along.” Jackson broke the amiable silence while I coolly sipped on my wine.
Before I was given the chance to voice out my reply, however, Drew butted in for me. “Where to?” he grumbled out as he impassively directed his gaze at Jackson.
“Miami.”
When those intense blue eyes landed on me, I felt as though my chest were about to combust from hypertension.
“You’re going?” he casually asked.
As simple as that question sounded, there was an underlying meaning to it. It was uncomfortable to say the least, but I knew I had to mumble a response since Jackson was waiting for one.
“I’m … uh … I’m not sure yet. Can I think on it?” I had never been to Florida, but I didn’t want to join Jacks and his friends if Spencer was tagging along wherever I went, like how he had been at the party, stuck to me like glue.
Jackson frowned as if he were trying to piece something in his mind. “Is there something going on between you and Spencer?”
His question threw me off a little. I wasn’t sure how to proceed with it. In the end, I eventually muttered an honest, “No. I don’t know.”
“You can’t be serious?” Drew piped in his blatant objection before regarding Jackson with unmistaken disgust on his face. “The guy is fucking garbage, and we both know it. If you give your approval for her to date someone, at least do it with a guy who isn’t a halfwit bitch-face wearing some tight jeans suffocating his balls, who splashes his money around because that’s the only currency that could garner him any form of respect since everyone knows he’s a fucking joke.”
“Wow, what the hell did Spencer ever do to you?” My gasp barely showed how perplexed I was over his rant.
Jackson blew out a hot breath before uttering, “He found out Spencer slept with one of his women. Shit went downhill from there.”
Ah. A woman. Of course. What else could it be? Had he been in love with her? Because no man could be this hateful toward another guy unless that woman meant something more than a quick lay in the sack.
“How many women do you have on speed dial?” It was a question in reference to Jackson’s statement of “one of his women.” My curiosity had gotten the best of me.
Drew locked his jaw as he gave me a hard stare while I audaciously raised my brow, goading him a little.
“Too many to count at this point.” Jackson chuckled before he drank his beer.
“You’re one to talk,” Drew chided as he directed him a curt glare before he let out a tired sigh and resumed eating.
Feeling the brunt of his gaze, Jackson held up his hands. “Hey, I’m not judging; just stating facts here, bro.”
There was no denying Drew found this particular subject unappetizing. Regardless, I couldn’t let it go. I had to know more about this woman in question. She must have been quite special.
“If she was, as Jackson put it, one of many, then she shouldn’t incite such a reaction from you, now should she?”
“That’s not the fucking point. I have never appreciated snakes, and I don’t plan to start now,” Drew grated out with alarming ferocity.
It didn’t take a genius to figure out my probing had displeased him. Regardless, the dam had broken, and there was no stopping me from getting answers from him.
“So, I’m guessing that’s why you don’t hang out with them, then.”
Jackson cleared his throat before looking away. “Let’s just say that Drew’s been … on a journey to learn how to dominate the world one day at a time.”
Was that snark I detected from my brother? What was going on between them?
Before I had the chance to grill them more, Drew’s stoic face made me second-guess that notion.
“That’s an extreme take on how you see things. If you’d take a chance to open your mind instead of hanging on to pre-existing beliefs, maybe you’d see a different perspective, Jackson.” There was a silent plea in Drew’s tone, as though they hadn’t agreed on something important; hence, the fractured friendship.
The resonating sound of tense silence filled the air. It was palpable, and I felt caught in the crossfire.
Jackson shook his head before giving a dry laugh, like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “Right. Well, thanks for dinner. I’ll take my narrow-minded self out to party with the same people you deem garbage.”
“Wait! You’re leaving?” I watched in horror as I flickered my eyes to and fro, wondering where their years of tight friendship had gone.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, Chloe. Have a goodnight.” Jackson gave me an unapologetic look before getting up and pushing his chair into the table.
It didn’t take long for the sound of the door being slammed shut echoed around the apartment. Something was very wrong, and I had no idea what that was.
“What is going on between you guys? This doesn’t look like the petty fights you two always had back home.”
“People change … and some don’t.”
What did that mean? How long had they been like this to each other? Not only had they barely hung out since I had arrived, but it seemed as though they couldn’t bear to be in the same room together for long.
“Are you really considering going to Miami?”
I glared at him. It couldn’t be helped. How could he just brush off what had happened and continue discussing Miami?
“I already said I would think on it. Nothing’s been decided yet.”
“Spencer likes challenges. The more he sees that you might play hard to get, the eager he becomes. He lives for the thrill of the chase,” he stated succinctly.
Funny he should say that ’cause … “If I didn’t know any better, you could be describing yourself.”
I was completely unprepared when he reached out to hold my hand, looking at me with pure sincerity. “I only want what’s best for you, Chloe, and that sure as hell isn’t Spencer … Nor is it me.”
The weight of his words knocked the air out of me. How often had he stated such words to me? Of course, it hurt to hear him say it. I hadn’t given up my V-card to some random man. He meant a lot to me.
“Great, I guess I should say thank you and good looking out.” It would have been a good retort had it been a joke, but the sarcasm was too apparent to be ignored.
Silence stretched between us while his hand casually held mine. It felt like forever, waiting for that moment that he would eventually pull away.
Just before I had the strength to look away, he cleared his throat then gazed at my face appreciatively. “I like your hair down like that. It makes you look very exotic.”
With my tan and amber eyes, I supposed I could pass for exotic. Hearing it from him, from his lips, pleased me more than I cared to admit. But as much as I wanted to dwell on my thoughts, I still had a lot of unanswered questions that needed to be addressed.
“Where did you go after you left that night?” I referred to the night he had walked out on me after interrupting that tête-à-tête with Spencer.
He seemed tentative for a few seconds before finally rasping out, “To someone’s place.”
Gauging by his reaction, I didn’t
have to wonder. “It’s a woman, of course.” I snorted, as if mocking him.
Why couldn’t he just hang out with guys like Jackson? He used to do that, too, but it seemed as though, every waking moment he wasn’t in school, he was bed hopping like a fucking gigolo. What the hell had gotten into him?
“Sex isn’t everything, Drew. I know that sounds ridiculous to men like you, but there’s more to life than that.” I was treading on such a dangerous subject, but I had to say it.
He had been off his rocker when his mom had died, followed by his grandmother. He’d had no family left as far as I knew. This wouldn’t do him any good if it were his way of coping with their loss. After all, it had been less than two years since it had happened. For some folks, that was still considered fresh wounds.
Something feral flickered in his magnetic blue depths before they locked onto my amber ones. “I fucked her hard. I fucked her good … so good that she fucking looked shattered. And I didn’t fucking stop until every thought of you with that little skirt on had been wiped out of my mind.”
My mouth hung ajar as hurt bombarded me from all fronts. “You …” I growled as my body shook. I wanted to slap him so hard I could feel my hand tingling. Instead, I opted to abruptly stand up from my chair and leave the table, too blinded by my tremendous pain to see that my foot was about to crash against the settee.
“Fuck! My big toe!” I screeched and sobbed at the same time. It was so painful I was seeing white stars and hadn’t realized Drew was right there with me before he carried me to the sofa.
While seated, my gaze dropped to the swollen toe, wondering how I was going to survive going to school injured.
“Sit still while I get some ice,” Drew tersely commanded. It didn’t take him long to come back with a bag of frozen mangos in his hand. “It’d take longer to put ice in a bag. This is faster and works just as well,” he argued before situating himself by my foot, carefully placing it on his thigh before setting the icepack on it.
It throbbed so badly the immediate impact of cold against my skin made me hiss. “Careful. Be careful. Don’t press too hard please.” Tonight surely wasn’t my night. Whenever Drew was involved, some mishap tended to happen.
I was about to spout out a thank you when I caught him intensely looking at my leg. I was so caught up I hadn’t taken into account that I was wearing a skirt yet again. Although it wasn’t as short as the last one, it was a pink and white plaid that reminded me of the movie Clueless. It was one of the things I had that wasn’t black or white. Clothes shopping should be on top of my list since I needed more variety in my closet.
Pondering my wardrobe came to a screeching halt when I felt him begin to massage my ankle before kneading where the ankle and foot connected, the sensitive part where, if you pinched it a little, you would scream like a little bitch in the manger because it was so excruciating it was foul.
“You look on the verge of tears,” he mused before grinning.
Before I had the chance to argue with him, he easily shut me up by using that blasted hand of his and proceeding to massage my calves in such a slow, unhurried manner that it was borderline sexual.
His ministrations infused my cheeks with pink as he carried on upward in that same hypnotic manner that almost short-circuited my brain. When those damn fingers reached the inside part of my thigh, I had to bite my bottom lip as hard as I could to refrain from moaning his name. Was I overreacting, or was I sexually frustrated? It was getting ridiculous to the point of being overbearing.
“How’s the toe?” he asked, unlatching his fingers from my inner thigh before gradually removing the icepack.
“It’s feeling much—” I was in the middle of my speech when he robbed me of words. I was thunderstruck from witnessing the tip of his tongue emerge from those lips, licking the tip of my toe, and then he began sucking it. “Drew …” I breathlessly moaned his name while I dug my nails into the couch.
“Does it feel better?” He looked up from his bent head while he playfully teased the pad of my toe with his tongue. Never had anything so odd and nasty looked inconceivably sexy in my eyes.
I shifted uncomfortably, aroused beyond comprehension. “Yes …”
Was it so bad that I wanted him to keep going? The very image of him gazing upon me with those lascivious eyes almost undid me. “Please stop.” I begged, though my body thought otherwise.
He paused as those piercing eyes caught me once again. He gently kissed the tip of my toe and sent me a lazy, devil-may-care smile. “I’m sorry. I got caught up. That vision of you aroused … It used to keep me up at night.”
He used to think about me at night? Even if it were sexual, it somehow gave me a glimpse of where his thoughts resided when it came to me.
“You just said you’re not the man for me, yet you pull something like this?”
“Even a strong man can have a few weaknesses. You’re one of them.” He stated it in a way that could only be perceived as though he despised the very idea.
All that high my body had received from his ministrations immediately vanished as I gazed upon his chiseled face. “You don’t like that you want me against your better judgment.”
“How could any man withstand it? Your body is made to stir up a saint.”
“Is that why you took my virginity? I mean, I threw myself at you so many times I lost count, but that night … That night, you gave in.”
“It’s hard to control it when I’m drunk.”
He had been drunk. Great. How convenient an excuse.
“Well, control no more. I’m not that naive virgin anymore, and I can guarantee you that I won’t beg you for anything. Not now, not ever. You’re the last man I’d sleep with, so help me God.”
“Seeing how you let Spencer’s hands all over you, there’s no denying how much you’ve changed when it comes to men.” His snarky retort merely egged me on.
My chest heaved as I carefully stood up.
I’d had enough of these confrontations. The more I had them with him, the more I realized how wretched he was.
“Thank you for clearing up everything, Drew. You can keep your sorry cupcakes along with your sorry dick.”
He instantly stood up, stopping me with his hand. “Chloe—”
My eyes lasered in on his fingers wrapped around my arm. His confessions did nothing but damage my confidence. Clearly, I could do without any of it.
“If you’re not careful, I might think you’re drunk enough to fuck me again, Drew.”
He released me so fast it was laughable. “I’ll be out if you need anything. Are you sure you don’t need me to help you get to your room?”
“I’ll manage fine.” I couldn’t get away from him fast enough, limping my way into my comfort zone.
He was such a confusing puzzle that I wanted to scream at him for royally mind-fucking me so well I wasn’t sure which was which. He was sexually attracted to me, but loathed the very idea of it. So what did that entail? Should I delve deep into his psyche and analyze his polarized mentality? It would be a waste of effort. Maybe it was due to the fact that I wasn’t his type. It was pretty common for people to be sexually attracted to the opposite sex without finding them particularly attractive. Supposedly, that was my case, and if so, then there was nothing I could do about it.
Besides, we were better off not being friends. We were civilized when the situation called for it, but apart from that, it was better this way.
If every night ended like this, I wouldn’t fucking survive. There was no way in hell a person could withstand feeling as though they were getting stomped on by a thousand people on a nightly basis and come out mentally stable.
Truly, I’d had enough of this draining energy.
Chapter Seven
The next morning, I woke up with a mild headache, and my toe didn’t feel any better. The throbbing pulse in my foot made me solely focus on the pain, which irritated me to no end.
Much to my surprise, there was another note on the side ta
ble, situated right next to the untouched cupcakes from the day prior.
Here’s some kinesiology tape. It could help alleviate some of the pain along with some pain reliever. YouTube should provide a tutorial if you need thorough instructions.
Please take care.
There was a roll of black bandage-like tape with a bottle of Aleve next to it. The gesture was beyond thoughtful, but after last night’s humiliating situation, the last thing I felt was warmth. This man went in and out of my bedroom as he pleased, which made me feel self-conscious because he did it while I was asleep. Top that with the thought of me drooling like a dumb idiot, and I couldn’t help feeling genuinely mortified. Oh, the thrills of sharing an apartment with a man you once fantasized about.
With less than an hour until my Economics class, I took a quick shower and brushed my teeth while I scanned YouTube so someone could show me how to use that special tape. I continued watching the tutorials while I got dressed then took some pain reliever before I went to sit on the edge of my bed and get to business.
The kinesiology tape was a longer version of a Band-Aid, but without the middle gauze padding. I admitted the pressure made it manageable to walk without having to limp. I supposed I should thank him for this when I saw him next. Even if he was unbearable sometimes, he was thoughtful when needed most.
But Drew hadn’t been back as far as I could tell. I even went to such a length as to leave my door open just in case I heard him enter. That moment never came. His absence cemented how he was very much avoiding me and sleeping at someone else’s home.
I admitted I was the least bit reasonable as of late, but he was far from being saintly, either. He had been hot and cold just as I had. If he spat fire, I didn’t back down. If he was being kind, I became less tense and guarded toward him. The extremeness of our reactions with each other took a toll on me. It proved how we were at odds, and I hardly believed there was a noncomplex solution for it. Therefore, I supposed his absence should be welcomed as a quiet reprieve from all the madness that ensued with each other.
That first day with my injured tiny limb was bearable as I went from class to class, but as the second day dragged, it was becoming apparent walking aggravated it more, so much so that the excruciating pain from moving alone made me cry out in agony. In between classes, I had to find somewhere to sit, take more pills, and wait for about ten minutes or so until the pain began to temporarily ebb away before I could function again.
