by Claire Adams
I tried to avoid making eye contact with him, but ignoring him seemed to be the honey that drew in the insect. He approached the front of the line of vehicles where I was. He was waving his flowers around, making indistinct chatter about how we should ‘do something nice for her’ and to ‘surprise her in the best way.’ I should have known that he was merely exercising sales tactics, but instead, I looked at it as taunting.
“How much for the assortment?” I called out to the flower man. I eyed a particular bouquet that had a variety of flowers. Since I wasn’t sure what her favorite flower was, I thought the best move was to try a little of everything.
“Ten dollars!” he replied.
“Fuck it, give them to me,” I said as I reached for my wallet. I gave the man my ten dollars, took my flowers, and drove off once the light turned green.
I barely drove half a mile before I slowed to a stop. I stared at the flowers.
“What the fuck are you doing?” I thought.
I revved my engine and sped back up. I discarded the flowers, tossing them away before I completed my journey back to the apartment.
Chapter Seventeen
Hannah
“No fucking way!” exclaimed Lisa.
“Yeah, I’m not kidding,” I replied.
I was sitting with Lisa and Amy after a long day at work, enjoying food from our favorite Italian place in downtown Madison. We hadn’t all gone out to eat together in a while, and we didn’t normally do so on a Monday, but I wanted to fill them in on my night with Sawyer, and I was only able to drop subtle hints and clues during the workday. We ensured that our table would be hidden away from the vast majority of the restaurant so that my story could be told unedited and unfiltered.
I just finished telling them about the make-out session Sawyer and I had on the couch and how it had ended with me giving him a hand job. Amy was mostly silent, but amused, while Lisa was excited enough for all of us at the table.
“So, why didn’t you go farther?” Lisa asked me. “Could he not get it back up?”
“No, in fact, he looked like he was already reloading and readying himself for another round,” I remarked. “I told you, I’m not going to have sex with him—”
“Why not?” Lisa whined. “I’m sexually frustrated for you!”
“You shouldn’t be,” I said. “Besides, I can take care of myself.”
“This thing with you two is so weird,” said Lisa.
“Yeah, I think I have to go with her,” chimed Amy. “That doesn’t make sense. And with you two living under the same roof? Wow.”
“I thought you wanted me to keep it in my pants,” I quipped to Amy.
“I want you to be careful,” she clarified. “That doesn’t mean you shouldn’t sleep with him after the night you two had together! Looking at the stars after dinner?”
“After our waitress was done trying to mark her territory,” I said with an unintentional hint of bitterness.
“You don’t think he chose Josef’s because he knew that girl would be working then, do you?” Amy asked.
“I don’t think so, but I’m coming to accept that I may never fully understand the inner workings of a man,” I said. “But the outer workings? Part of me is glad we didn’t have sex on Friday. He would have finished so fast.”
“He has had weeks’ worth of blue balls, Han,” commented Lisa.
“I don’t think it’s the worst thing in the world to bring Sawyer down to earth a bit,” I said. “If I just give it away now, he really will think that the world is here to serve him women whenever he pleases. I’m not going to enable that.”
“How big is his dick?” Lisa asked inquisitively.
“Lisa!” I gasped. I looked over at Amy, who in turn looked to Lisa.
“Well… how big is it?” Amy prodded.
“I didn’t exactly have a ruler out to measure,” I said. My cheeks flushed redder than Lisa’s hair. “He’s… good.”
“Just good?” Lisa asked, digging.
I thought back to Friday and how big he had grown for me. I remembered thinking about how I could have stroked his shaft with both of my hands and still had room to spare…
“Yes, he was big, and yes, I am afraid of it hurting me.”
Amy burst out laughing; she, too, turned red in the face. Lisa looked delighted.
“I’m not going to sleep with him unless I know it’s right,” I said. “I’ve got the situation under control. Believe me.”
“Right, he wants to fuck you, you want to fuck him,” said Lisa. “What to do… what to do…”
“Hey, if he’s allowed to bring over girl after girl to his place, toy with them, and then never speak to them again, I’m allowed to toy with him,” I said. “And it’s not like I’m hurting him. He’s made it perfectly clear that all he wants is sex, and I… gave him a teaser. We both had fun.”
I took a sip of the beer I had ordered, looking at my friends, weary of whatever was on their minds, specifically Lisa.
“What?” I asked them.
“Are you sure this has nothing to do with Jared?” Amy asked.
“What do you mean?” I asked, legitimately surprised by her question.
“Hannah, Sawyer isn’t the one who broke your heart,” Lisa added. “Jared toyed with you, not him. You shouldn’t take out your anger on Sawyer.”
“I’m not angry at Jared, and I’m not taking anything out on Sawyer,” I said firmly. “I want Jared to move on and be happy, and I want Sawyer to be patient.”
“From what you’ve said, he has been patient,” said Amy.
“I mean, he has, comparatively speaking,” I said. “He’s been patient lately. Friday was the first time I saw him make a real effort.”
“Do you want to win the bet?” Amy asked.
“Honestly, I don’t care that much about the bet,” I said. And I meant it. “If I give myself to him now… he’s not going to put in effort like that ever again.”
Lisa scoffed. “So? You’re just going for a fling with him anyway, right?”
“Yeah, yeah, but still, you know…” I trailed off, thoughts unformed and unfinished. Amy gave me an inquisitive look. I wasn’t telepathic, but I knew what she was thinking.
“You like him,” said Amy’s facial expression.
“So, what’s your next move?” Lisa asked me.
“I’m not sure,” I answered honestly. “I’m kind of just… going with the flow.”
While it is true that I had thought about giving Sawyer a hand job before that last Friday, and I had certainly imagined scenarios where we were kissing and touching, I hadn’t set out that night with any intention or expectation. I listened to my gut, as Sawyer had suggested.
I arrived home after dinner to find Sawyer in the living room, practicing kickboxing moves without his shirt on. A part of me was slightly trepidatious because, in that instant, I worried that we were indeed reverting back to how things were before. However, another part of me realized that with his access to the fitness center at our complex now restricted, and with little time to make it to the gym, it made sense that he would work out at home, and his home was my home.
Another part of me that existed outside of those trains of thought was also responding to his body. With how his shirt had remained on after our date and with the days in between then and now when I had been avoiding him, I had forgotten just how impressive he was. There was sweat dripping down his hair and body, coating his tan skin with multiple glistening streams of perspiration.
Despite closing the front door and me standing only a few feet away from him, he didn’t stop performing his moves until I made a point to stand directly in front of his line of sight.
“Hey!” he said.
“Hi,” I said. “You working out?”
“Yeah, haven’t gotten over to the gym in days… Sorry, hold on.”
He pranced over to the couch, where a clean towel was waiting for him. He began wiping the sweat from his body. I watched him intently for a few
moments. I hurried back to my room upon realizing that I was watching him intently. I put down my purse and checked my reflection in the mirror, trying to make myself presentable as well. I didn’t like how I looked, but I didn’t have the time or inclination to even consider what I would have done differently to change my appearance.
I went back into the living room. Sawyer was on the floor, sitting on his towel, stretching. I went to the kitchen and filled two glasses with water.
As I left the kitchen, I took note of his brown leather jacket hanging on one of the kitchen chairs. On the back of his jacket was what appeared to be a single rose petal; I wasn’t sure of what to make of it, and for some reason, I was hesitant to ask him about it.
“Did you have a good day at work?” I asked him, holding out one of the glasses.
“Yeah, it was okay,” he replied, taking the glass and drinking most of the water in one swig. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.” I sat on the couch, tapping and rubbing my glass rather than drinking from it.
“So…” he said. “Friday…”
“Yeah… Friday.”
“We still haven’t really talked about it,” he said, looking back at me with his deep brown eyes. “I wanted to talk with you over the weekend, but you weren’t exactly here.”
“Yeah… yeah, you’re right.”
“So… do you want to talk about it?” he asked.
My heart and my mind were yelling at me in various volumes about various decisions. I didn’t know what the right move was. Instead, I once again listened to my gut, even though my gut was steering me down an unpredictable road.
“We could talk about it later if you want,” I suggested.
“We can talk whenever you want,” he said.
“You know you don’t have to sit on the floor. Just put your towel on the couch next to me. Come sit.”
He quickly took my invitation. Within seconds, he was on the couch, grin forming and body excited. I took a sip from my drink and put my glass down.
“Is it okay that I just want to make out with you some more?” I asked him.
“More than okay, little lady.”
And so, we had finally returned to kissing. His lips tasted salty, and his skin felt smooth in my hands. It felt better whenever I found a particularly well-exercised muscle on his body. My hands traveled across his back and chest, while his hands explored around my legs and breasts. He was less aggressive with my breasts, which was nice. He managed to discover where my nipples were through my shirt and began to lightly pinch and tug on them. Even though my shirt made his mission difficult, he was not deterred, and I was very horny for him.
I wasn’t sure whether it was courage or cocky ambition that drove him, but he wasted no time. He unbuttoned my pants. It startled me, but to my own surprise, I didn’t stop him. He unzipped them slowly
I put my hand over his hand. I wanted him to finish taking off my pants, but I couldn’t bring myself to let him do it.
He amended his plan. Using the minuscule entryway that he had given himself, he gradually slid his practiced hand down my pants. I didn’t stop him. At that moment, I knew of no way to stop him.
Avoiding my panties altogether, he found my vagina. In seemingly no time, he slid one finger gently inside of me while his thumb was pressed delicately against my clit, and I moaned loudly. I was wet for him, and he officially knew it then.
He snickered, enjoying himself immensely.
“I told you they all come to me eventually…” he muttered.
I was taken aback. Rapidly, I was snapping out of it.
“What?” I said.
“I knew you wanted me, baby. Everyone caves eventually.”
I was astonished, appalled, and wanted to break each finger that he had in my pants. He knew that he made a mistake, and fortunately, I didn’t need to dictate it. Deducing from my mannerisms, he gradually moved his hand out of my pants.
Rather than ranting at him or asking for elaboration, I stood up, zipped my pants back up, and stomped off to my room, slamming the door behind me and locking it.
I plopped onto my bed. I punched my pillow and did something that I saw in a lot of movies and TV shows: I screamed into my pillow. In a minute’s time, I went from having Sawyer’s hand caressing my clit and loving it… to wanting absolutely nothing to do with him.
I regretted thinking he was any different than Jared. I decided that I was going to take some paid leave from work and go see my mom in Evansville. I didn’t have the energy or the conviction to stay locked up in my room, nor to tell Sawyer to leave. I needed time away.
Chapter Eighteen
Sawyer
I was used to Hannah reacting and overreacting to my advances, but I wasn’t sure what to make of things after the bizarre turn of events on that Monday night.
She left me a note on the kitchen counter; along with her cell number, which I had yet to obtain, she included.
“I’ll be gone for a few days. Call if there’s an emergency – Hannah”
There wasn’t an emergency for the entire time that she was gone, but there were times when I contemplated texting or calling her, in spite of her uncharacteristically immature behavior.
I did feel that I had chosen my words poorly, especially considering the circumstances and manner in which I used them, but I felt no urge or responsibility to issue an apology. I had never known a girl to avoid me, reality, or the truth more severely or as insistently as she did.
I used the time that would have otherwise been spent on Hannah on more productive tasks. I was more focused at Lightning Fast than I had been in weeks. I was returning to my usual routine of going to the gym, and it helped that I was angry, confused, and horny because that gave me an unharnessed energy that I was able to use to help maintain the physique that I’d worked on for years.
I was no longer afraid that she didn’t appreciate my body. Her behavior and actions definitely helped soothe that beast in my brain.
I wouldn’t consider myself a ‘meathead,’ but I had to admit it: I had no fucking clue what was going on.
I really did want to talk to her. Not just to talk to her and be around her, but so I could try and figure out my own mysteries. I wasn’t even sure of what to think.
I thought about what Dave had suggested about Hannah and how her sexual advance may have been an effect from what happened between Jared and me. If that theory was true, then I realized what my way of seducing Hannah would be: sex through petty rivalry. Me versus Jared; the new guy versus the ex.
I took pride in that idea, yet it didn’t carry the usual satisfaction I was used to. For reasons I didn’t understand, I couldn’t help thinking about how I didn’t want to win the bet that way. I did want to beat the piss out of Jared, whether Hannah saw it or not, but I didn’t want her to have sex with me under those conditions. I wanted her to want me because she wanted to want me.
After I had that thought, I began to suspect that I really was stupid.
I didn’t care what the other girls before Hannah thought about me; I only wanted them for sex. I didn’t care how any of the other girls before Hannah felt about me because I felt nothing. Ordinarily, I thought of a girl up to the point when I got her, and once I’d gotten her, the thoughts were gone.
I thought about the bet and our terms and conditions. I thought of how quick I was to ask to be her roommate and how quickly I stopped looking for other apartments after. I knew myself well enough to know that if I didn’t want to live with Hannah, I would have left days ago.
I had convinced myself the reason that I was going to live with Hannah was because she was incredibly hot and lived right across from me in the building.
Though I knew that was only a part of it. That’s all my gut had to say. My heart and my mind were doing a lot of talking, and it terrified me because I was actively trying to listen to them.
Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday passed with no sight of Hannah. I had considered texting her throughout the workd
ays, but I wasn’t sure of what to say or how to say it. I cleaned the apartment and fixed an issue that I spotted with the bathroom sink.
Friday came. As I labored tirelessly at work that day, I came to the conclusion that if Hannah wasn’t back by Sunday, I would surrender the freeze-out and call her.
Luckily for me, it wasn’t necessary because she returned that Friday afternoon. I knew this because I walked into the apartment to the sound of her laptop playing a romantic-comedy in her bedroom. The door was closed, and I assumed it was locked. I made noise in the living room and lingered in the kitchen for a good while wondering if she was going to come out.
You’ve got your moves; she’s got hers. Why do hers feel brutal and unfair?
I stomped back to my room, closing the door loudly behind me. I fell onto my bed, groaning. I looked at my phone, knowing that in seconds and with ease, I could text her and try to get something going. I knew she probably wouldn’t text back, but I didn’t know what to think then, so I thought anything might be possible.
I recalled my earlier thoughts about Jared and how my actions may have helped trigger a sexual response from Hannah. Asserting dominance was definitely something she responded to, and it helped that in this case, it involved an ex who had clearly done a painful number on her.
Being ‘alpha’ was never something I exactly strived for, but I did fit a lot of the criteria, and I didn’t exactly fight anyone when they labeled me as such. A lot of women responded to it, and that was precisely why I behaved the way that I would. Yet, I didn’t want one of those women who could so easily be manipulated by easy, transparent ploys to be Hannah. I was actually beginning to think maybe she was different than all the other girls, and I was despondent at the thought that maybe she was just decent at pretending.
My gut told me she wasn’t pretending and that she was different. Unique.
So, I waited. I woke up on Saturday morning, and she was gone. I went to the gym, hung out with a buddy of mine at a sports bar, came home… and she was in her bedroom. She stayed in her bedroom and didn’t come out. While I lay in bed that night, I looked online at different apartments. Once I saw that the situation on that front had yet to change, I dropped my phone and went to sleep.
