Object Me: A Bad Boy Lawyer Romance

by Roxy Sinclaire

She fumbled with the button on my pants. I stopped her, but I doubted that she had the dexterity at this point to get them open. Having her on top of me was unbearably arousing.

  I tried to slow things down by laying her on the bed, but that only prompted her to pull her top off. She struggled with her jeans for a while before kicking them off onto the floor. She was down to just her underwear and bra and I wanted to take in the magnificent sight. I laid on my side and pulled her close to me, wanting to touch as much of her as I could.

  “You’re so incredibly beautiful. Do you know that?” I said. Of course, she knew, but I couldn’t stop telling her that.

  She smiled at me with closed eyes.

  “Are you falling asleep?” I asked.

  “No, I’m awake,” she responded, eyes still closed.

  “Do you like me?” I asked. It seemed like such a childish question, but I wanted to know.

  “Yes,” she mumbled. “Do you like me?”

  “More than you can imagine.”

  I held her in my arms and listened to our front door open and shut. The party was over, and I had Alexa all to myself. I figured if everyone was gone, I’d run out to the kitchen and get some water and snacks to help sober her up.

  I peeled her hands off of me, threw on a shirt, and grabbed two bottles of water and a box of crackers from the empty kitchen.

  I asked her if she wanted a snack, but she didn’t respond. I gently shook her and she let out a snore. I couldn’t help but let out a groan.

  “Oh, Alexa,” I whispered. “We have the worst timing.”

  Since I had snacks and the movie was still on, there was no point in bothering her. I’d let her sleep it off and make her breakfast in the morning to ease her inevitable hangover. When I couldn’t keep my eyes open anymore, I stripped off my shirt and pants. I often sleep in the nude, so I was providing her a courtesy by leaving my underwear on.

  I figured she would be fine with me sleeping next to her. After all, she was trying to get me naked before she fell asleep. I kissed her on the head and rolled her onto her side in case she got sick during the night.

  I rolled the other way, hoping that just once, everything in the universe would align so we could have one perfect night together.

  Maybe our relationship wasn’t meant to be perfect. Maybe she would always keep me guessing. Maybe this would all implode, and I would be turned into dust, her shining bright as ever.

  I didn’t care. Against my better judgment, I would do whatever it took to be with her.

  Alexa

  When I woke up, I couldn’t even open my eyes. My head pounded so hard that it hurt just to raise my eyelids. Also, I hadn’t washed off my makeup, and a combination of mascara and false eyelash glue made things more difficult. I didn’t need to open my eyes right now anyway.

  I drifted back to sleep for a minute. I dreamt that I was on the sideline cheering for Martin. There were more people in the stadium than I had ever seen in my four years on the team. My parents and Sebastian were sitting in the front row. I looked down and realized that I was wearing nothing but my bra and underwear. I tried to keep cheering like nothing was wrong, but thousands of people were pointing at me.

  I woke with a start. I felt terrible. It took me a few seconds to realize that I had no idea where I was. It looked like my room, but none of these belongings were mine. I looked at the bed and saw Martin there, with a bare arm and leg hanging off the side of the bed. Why was he naked? Why was I in bed with him? Suddenly, I was very aware of my own nakedness. I quickly pulled my clothes on, waking him in the process.

  “Good morning,” he said sleepily. “How are you feeling?”

  “What is going on?”

  “Please tell me you didn’t black out again,” his smile turning into a frown.

  “I must have, because I have no idea why I’m here,” I said, frustrated.

  “Don’t get upset, you’re the one who got in my bed first.”

  “Who let me have all of that alcohol?” I asked.

  “You did,” he responded. “We tried to convince you it wasn’t a good idea, but you kept pouring yourself drinks.”

  “This is a nightmare,” I said, holding my pounding head in my hands.

  “I’m sorry you feel that way. Last night was one of the best nights of my life. I wish you could remember it.”

  “Are you kidding me?” I shouted at him.

  I felt violated. We were in bed together, naked, and I didn’t remember a thing. If I was so drunk that I blacked out for several hours of my life, then how could I even be conscious enough to have sex?

  I ran into his bathroom and locked the door. I steadied myself on the edge of the sink and cried. I really liked him. How could he have sex with me when I wasn’t even sober enough to be into it?

  I looked in the mirror. I looked horrendous. Makeup was smeared all over my face and my hair was a tangled mess. I couldn’t walk back to my dorm like this, people would see. I took off my clothes and stepped into his shower.

  I heard a knock on the door.

  “Alexa, open the door. I don’t think you understand.”

  I understood, all right. These guys were all the same. They act all sweet and kind, but they only want one thing. I felt stupid. I’d been in similar situations before, but with guys who meant nothing to me. I was starting to think I could really trust him.

  I squeezed a small dollop of his body wash in my hand and rubbed on the sticky spots on my body. Someone must have spilled a sugary drink on me. The smell gave me instant flashbacks to resting my head on his chest.

  I rinsed it off, but the smell stuck in my brain. I stuck my face under the running water for a few minutes, hoping the steam would help the alcohol seep out of my body.

  When I got out of the shower and looked in the mirror, I looked just as bad as when I got in.

  My makeup had melted in the shower and my hair was more matted. I found a single clean washcloth and scrubbed at my face until I looked more human and less raccoon-like.

  After some searching, I found a cheap plastic comb and began working on my hair. Once it was smooth down to the nape of my neck, I gathered the rest of the poofy mess up, and tied it back with the hair tie I kept on my wrist. I still looked rough, but good enough for walking home without creating a scene.

  I felt lightheaded and sat down on the edge of the tub. I cupped a few handfuls of cool water from the sink and sipped. I didn’t want to go back out into the bedroom. I couldn’t face him after what he did to me. Once again, I was embarrassed. Not for drinking too much, but for being vulnerable. I hated not being in control. I steadied myself, took a deep breath, and opened the door.

  To my surprise, the room was empty. In the spot where I had slept was a plate of toast and bacon. There was a sports drink on the bedside table. The thought of eating anything repulsed me, but I knew it was the best way to get over a hangover.

  Maybe it would give me the energy to walk back to my dorm. I nibbled at the toast, drying my mouth to the point where I could hardly swallow. I cracked open the drink and took a few small sips. I paused, waiting to make sure it would stay down. When it did, it took a few more slow, small bites.

  I was about halfway done with my plate when Martin entered the room. So much for a stealthy exit.

  “Do you want to tell me what’s wrong?” he asked, frowning.

  “I don’t know what your confusion is. You aren’t the one who doesn’t remember anything,” I fired back.

  “I can tell you everything about last night, if you’ll just listen to me.”

  “Sure, I bet you’ll twist facts so you come off as the hero again.”

  “What do you think happened?” he asked, looking hurt.

  “I woke up in your bed, and both of us were practically naked. I don’t remember anything, so that means I was extremely drunk. I think I can put two and two together.”

  “Never go into detective work,” he scowled. “Would you like me to tell you what really happened?”


  I was silent. I didn’t really want to hear it. I grabbed my shoes and purse and tried the door handle. It was locked.

  “This is sick,” I yelled. “Locking me in here, for what?”

  “I didn’t lock it,” he said, genuinely confused.

  He tried opening the door, but there was something in the way. He called Reg on his cell and ask him to help us.

  “There’s something wrong with my door, Reg. Can you try to open it from the outside?” he asked.

  “Well, um,” Reg stuttered. “We kinda barricaded the door.”

  “You what?”

  Reg hung up and I heard Sasha’s voice booming from the other side of the door.

  “We’ve all had enough of your bickering. It’s time you work things out. When everything is fixed, we’ll let you out.”

  I was furious. I just wanted to go home and nurse this hangover in peace and quiet.

  “Now that we’re stuck here,” he said a little softer. “I’m going to tell you the facts. You got really drunk and came onto me. Don’t get me wrong; I was thrilled when you motioned me into my room.

  We kissed, but I could tell that you were too drunk to do anything else. You took off my shirt and then you took off your own clothes. I was going to try to sober you up, but you passed out. That’s it.”

  “If that’s everything that happened,” I started. “Then how can you call it ‘one of the best nights of your life’?”

  He blushed.

  “It’s not often that you get to share your bed with the captain of the cheerleading team.”

  I scoffed and pounded on the door. “We figured things out,” I yelled to the door. “I figured out that Martin is an ass. You can let me out now.”

  “Nice try,” Sasha answered. “The fact that we can still hear shouting isn’t a good sign.”

  I stomped back over to the bed and finished my cold breakfast. I was starting to feel a little better physically, but I was still in a horrendous mood.

  “I can’t talk to you when you’re like this,” he said to me.

  “Like what?”

  “You’re so incredibly stubborn. Why can’t we discuss this like rational human beings?”

  “Because nothing I say ever matters,” I retorted.

  “I’m going to take a shower,” he said. “Maybe when I get out, you’ll be ready to talk about this.”

  “We’ll see,” I mumbled under my breath. There was nothing more to talk about. I tried to be friends with him, and this is what I got. I was locked in a room with a guy that continued to cause problems for me. I wanted out, out of this room, out of this “friendship”, out from under my parent’s control.

  Since there was nothing else for me to do with Martin in the bathroom, I slid under the covers to rest my eyes. I just wanted a few minutes of darkness and silence so I could think.

  Martin

  When I got into the bathroom, I sat on the edge of the tub and pulled out my phone. I needed to talk to someone with experience in girl problems, but I didn’t want Alexa to hear me. I sent a text to Sam:

  Things are really weird with Alexa. She’s mad at me for no reason. What should I do?

  I could see him typing almost immediately.

  I heard all about it. You have to work things out. All couples fight every now and again. It’s normal.

  Word spreads quickly.

  We’re not a couple. She hates me and there’s nothing I can say to make it better.

  Do you like her? he asked.

  Of course I do.

  Make sure she knows it. Keep me updated.

  I set my phone down on the counter next to a wadded up washcloth covered in pink, black, and tan stains. It was rare to see a cheerleader without makeup. Her eyes looked so soft and tired, and light freckles that I didn’t even know were there dotted her nose and cheeks.

  I turned on the shower and got in, standing motionless as I let the cool water wash over my body. Think, I urged myself. What should I say to convince her to trust me?

  I thought about a job interview that I had years ago. The interviewer asked me how I convince people that I’m trustworthy. I had never thought about it before. I told her that I don’t have to use my words, because people could look at my past actions and just know that I was trustworthy.

  I then thought about my past with Alexa. For years, I had teased her and pulled stupid pranks. I didn’t do it out of malice; I guess I wanted to have a reason to interact with her. It made sense why she didn’t trust me.

  I never gave her a good reason to. If I couldn’t show her that she could trust me, I would have to convince her with my words.

  I toweled off and chose a fresh t-shirt and pair of jeans from the closet. I had forgotten the way a hot shower and a clean change of clothes could give me a fresh outlook on life. I was ready to talk. I hoped she would be, too.

  I opened the bathroom door, ready to start my speech, just to find her curled up in bed, asleep.

  I chuckled. Typical Alexa. If she couldn’t win an argument, then she’d just sleep through it. I would have joined her, but I slept great and didn’t want her to panic if she woke up next to me again. I tried the door again, but it was still locked.

  I sat down at my desk and did a little studying. I had a test the next day, but I already accepted the fact that I wouldn’t do very well. I had been too distracted lately to pay attention in class. I was reading about different survey research techniques when my phone buzzed.

  I don’t hear any talking, Sasha’s text read.

  She fell asleep while I took a shower, so I’m enjoying the quiet, I responded.

  I hope you like being locked in your room, because you’re not leaving.

  That’s fine. I am getting hungry, though. Send some food when you can, I responded sarcastically.

  A few minutes later, I heard the door rattle. I got up, thinking I could wedge my way out, but before I got halfway across the room, a plate slid in and the door slammed shut.

  “Nice try,” a muffled voice said from the other side.

  There were two sandwiches and a bunch of chips on the plate. They tossed in two cans of soda, too. It was a nice gesture, or would have been if they hadn’t locked us in here against our will.

  I checked to see if all of the commotion woke Alexa up. It didn’t. I held my hand in front of her face, just to make sure she was still breathing. Her breath was hot and moist on the back of my hand.

  I resumed my studies, quietly snacking on the chips. If she didn’t wake up soon, there would be nothing left for her to eat. After a while, I was starting to get bored. Shaking her awake seemed like a bad idea. After all, I was hoping the nap would calm her down. I tried to make some light noise, hoping that would prompt her to wake up “on her own”.

  Slamming my book shut, rustling papers, and opening my pop can didn’t work. I sighed dramatically, rolled my desk chair across the floor, and crunched on potato chips. Nothing. Finally, I coughed loudly, and she stirred.

  “How long have I been asleep?” she asked.

  I checked my phone. “About five hours,” I joked.

  “Five hours?” she shouted. “Why didn’t you wake me?”

  “I’m kidding. It’s only been about an hour. It’s eleven o’clock.” I should know better to joke around at a time like this, but I couldn’t help myself.

  She frowned. “Is the door still locked?”

  “Yep, but Sasha was so kind as to make us sandwiches.” I handed the plate over to her. I wasn’t about to tell her there were once chips for her too.

  “Are you feeling better?” I asked.

  “Yeah,” she said. “I’m just not pleased that we’re still in this room.”

  “Me neither. I think Sasha’s been listening from the other side of the door. She knows you were sleeping.”

  “I’m not surprised. She can be so nosy sometimes,” she said loud enough that Sasha could hear.

  “So,” I said. “Should we talk this out so we can get out of here?�
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  “Go ahead,” she replied. “This is all your fault, so you can do your best to patch it all up.”

  “My fault?” I asked. “How do you figure?”

  “We already made the decision that we would be friends. Last time I checked, friends don’t sleep naked in the same bed.”

  “If that’s the case, that ruins a lot of the football players’ fantasies about you and your friends,” I said under my breath.

  “I’m being serious,” she said.

  “You put the moves on me, though,” I added. “Let’s not forget that detail.”

  “I was drunk. You said I was so drunk that you wouldn’t have sex with me. Why didn’t you just kick me out or send me home?”

  “I wanted to have sex with you. I thought you would sober up and still want to be with me.”

  “Obviously not,” she said, coolly.

  “It was your choice to take off our clothes.”

  “I was wasted. You can’t hold me accountable for my actions.”

  “Why not?” I questioned. “I don’t believe that alcohol turns you into someone you’re not. It lowers your inhibitions, yes. But I don’t think it can suddenly make you do something you don’t have any interest in doing.”

  “So I shouldn’t blame you for this predicament we’re in?” she asked.

  “No, and in fact, I blame you,” I said. “I didn’t make you do anything, Alexa. You’re mad at me for not knowing exactly what you want. One day you say you want to be friends, and the next, you’re flirting with me and taking my clothes off. It’s confusing, and I don’t think it’s fair to me.”

  She looked at the floor, silent.

  “I’m starting to feel like this is some big prank,” I continued. “I feel like you’re trying to make me fall in love with you, just to yank it all away at the last second.”

  The more I thought about it, the more it seemed true. Maybe she was just using me. She kept leading me on, just to get upset with me when I wanted her. She could get blackout drunk and act however she wanted, only if I was there to blame for her bad decisions in the morning. I texted Reg:

  This isn’t funny anymore. I want out.