The Truths about Dating and Mating

by Jaycee DeLorenzo

  I cocked a brow. “When have you ever had rip-your-clothes-off sex?”

  She shrugged. “A girl can dream.”

  The longing in her eyes took me back, and for the first time, I wondered if there was another side to Chelsea, just dying to get out. Shaking it off, I returned to my point. “All I’m saying is that there’s more to a relationship than heat. Think about it. You have two relationship options. The first one is hot and passionate, and the feelings are really intense, but you’re never truly sure where you stand with that person. There’s no open communication, so there’s no grounds for trust. The second relationship option lacks those intense feelings, but there’s a fair balance of what you need for the long term: comfort, trust, and communication. Wouldn’t you choose the second?”

  Amery made a sound of disgust. “Since when are those two options mutually exclusive? It is possible to have both.”

  Not in my world.

  “If you’re lucky, yes,” Chelsea said. I looked down to find her watching me with understanding clear in her eyes.

  “But if you don’t have those things in the first place, what are you left with when the passion dies?” I asked.

  Chelsea sat up. “Ivy, you had a lot more in the first place.”

  I fidgeted in my seat and glanced over to see Amery watching me closely, a hint of a sneer on her face. My eyes darted away and landed on the near-empty popcorn bowl. Wanting to escape, I went into the kitchen to heat up another bag in the microwave.

  When the first kernels in the bag began to pop, the air in the room changed, telling me I wasn’t alone. Turning, I found Amery holding the bowl.

  I gave her a faint smile. “Hey.”

  She put the popcorn bowl down on the counter and leaned forward. “Do you really think it’s some big secret that you and Ian had sex?”

  Yeah, I kind of had. I gave her a weak shrug.

  “It was pretty obvious after last Tuesday’s show,” she said. “I’ve been just waiting for you to tell me. So, why haven’t you?”

  “I haven’t told anyone.” It wasn’t a lie.

  “You’ve talked to Chelsea about it. You’ve talked to Casey about it. So why not me? Didn’t you think that maybe I could have offered some advice?”

  “I wasn’t looking for advice.”

  She knocked her hand on the counter. “Well, maybe you should have been, because you’ve done a real bang up job of handling things on your own.”

  My temper sparked at the bitchiness in her tone. “Pick a reason why I didn’t come to you, Amery. Maybe I didn’t tell you because you like to gossip. Maybe I didn’t tell you because you told me you fantasize about him when you’re getting yourself off.” Amery pushed up into a standing position, her eyes bulging. “And maybe, just maybe, I didn’t tell you because it’s none of your goddamn business!”

  She stared at me for a long moment, an ugly scowl on her face. “You know what? None of that hurts, because it’s true. And I’m a big fan of telling the truth.”

  “Are you saying I’m not?” I asked, wondering what she was getting at.

  “How truthful are you being with Jayden? That’s what you were talking about in there, right?” She jabbed her finger in the direction of the living room. “You lack deep feelings for him, but you like him because he’s easy. Don’t you realize how selfish that is? You’re standing in his way of finding someone who could feel intensely for him, so you don’t have to deal with your feelings for Ian. Don’t you think you owe him the chance to find someone who’s interested in him, instead of letting him be the person someone’s just settled for?”

  “Oh, and let me guess, you think you’re the right person for the job?”

  Amery didn’t even flinch. “More so than you. I’d never use him. You, on the other hand, are using this guy to do what? Make Ian jealous?”

  That was so not true. Until the night before, I didn’t even know Ian knew about Jayden. I sure wasn’t flaunting him in Ian’s face. I smirked at her. “Jealous, huh? I bet you know just how that feels.”

  Amery slammed the bowl down. The metal clanged against the ceramic counter and echoed in the room, drawing both of Chelsea’s and Carrie’s attention. Neither of us acknowledged them, although I was acutely aware of their scrutiny.

  “You self-righteous bitch,” Amery bit out, her eyes spitting sparks.

  I lifted my chin.

  Amery opened her mouth, preparing to say something else, but she changed her mind and shook her head. She spun on her toe and walked around the couch. “I’m leaving,” she said to Carrie. “If you still want a ride, you better come now.”

  Carrie jumped to her feet. I saw her exchange a look of confusion with Chelsea, then slide her flip-flops on and thank us for having her over.

  The slam of the door moments later made me jump.

  “Shit,” I muttered, dropping my head down on the counter and running a shaky hand through my hair. My eyes closed with a sigh. That was not the way I wanted things to go. But Amery had been out of line. To accuse me of using Jayden just because she was interested in him herself was just low and pathetic.

  I heard the TV go off in the living room, followed by the soft shuffle of Chelsea’s feet against the carpet as she joined me in the kitchen. Though she didn’t push – unlike me, it wasn’t her style to force someone to talk – I could feel Chelsea’s questioning gaze on me.

  My eyes opened as the acrid scent of burning popcorn filled the room.

  “Son of a bitch!” I shrieked with more emotion than the event warranted. My hand jabbed at the door on the microwave. I pulled the bag out and threw it into the empty bowl. My nostrils flared as the smell intensified. “Great, now the whole apartment smells like ass.” I kicked the cupboard, then lifted the bowl to take it outside.

  “I’ll open the windows,” Chelsea said.

  I dropped the bowl outside the door. I’d take it to the dumpster after I was sure Amery was completely gone. I opened the door wide and went into the kitchen to get a towel.

  “She accused me of using Jayden,” I said as I fanned the foul air towards the door.

  “I heard her,” Chelsea said. She pushed on the lower pane of our up-slide window. “Are you?”

  Did no one have faith in me? “Of course not. I like him. And she only said that because she wants him for herself. You saw her last night.”

  “Yeah, I saw her. I also saw you.”

  This time I did look over, wanting to see what she was getting at. “And?”

  “He may as well have not even been there. You spent most of your time watching Ian.”

  She had been paying attention, and I wasn’t too happy to hear it. I didn’t want my friends watching my every move.

  “Can I ask something without you getting upset?” Chelsea asked without looking at me.

  All that translated to was that it was guaranteed to upset me. “I make no promises, but go ahead.”

  “Do you like Jayden or do you want to like Jayden?”

  I got upset, anyway. She sounded just like Amery. “I like him,” I said, my voice rising. “He’s a good guy!”

  “That’s all well and good, but if you don’t feel it with him, you don’t feel it. You shouldn’t have to force yourself to like someone, and Amery’s right. It’s really not fair to him. Either way,” Chelsea bent over the counter and clasped her hands together, “I don’t really think that fight was about Jayden. She’s more hurt that you’re keeping things from her than anything else, that you felt like you couldn’t trust her.” She made a face. “You were pretty harsh.”

  I scowled. “I was truthful, which is what she wanted. She does like to gossip and she told me she fantasizes about Ian the night of the party at the old firehouse.”

  “When she was drunk? So, she deserves having something she said when she was intoxicated thrown in her face and used as an excuse for keeping secrets from her? You’ve never said or done anything stupid when you were drunk?”

  Graydon’s blue eyes floated befo
re my eyes.

  “I bet you’d think it was really unfair if someone held it against you, too.” Chelsea’s expression turned tentative. “Look, I’m not trying to upset you, but, lately, you have this really bad habit of going for the jugular the micro-second someone says anything you don’t like. You’re so focused on winning every battle that you don’t even realize you’re losing the war. I’m sure it feels good in the short-term but, Ivy, it’s childish. You’ve got to start considering the consequences of your actions before going off half-cocked all the time. Otherwise, one day you’re gonna look around and realize you’ve run everyone off who cares about you.”

  My eyes slid away. Yeah, it did feel good to come out on top of an argument, but then what? It never made me happy for long. And I was losing people I cared about here. Ian, Amery, hell, I’d even told Casey to back off. If I kept it up, I was going to drive everyone away.

  “You’re right,” I said miserably. “I’m screwing everything up. Ian tried to tell me he loved me last night.”

  Chelsea nodded slowly. “What did you do?”

  “What do you think? I was being… me. I was already pissed off before he showed up, and then he ambushed me as I was getting ready to go out with Jayden. I lashed out, which started a huge fight, and things just got so messed up.”

  “What did you do?” she asked again.

  I looked away, not wanting to see her disappointment. “I blew up and told him we shouldn’t be friends anymore.”

  “Ivy.” Chelsea didn’t yell, which made the guilt worse.

  “I didn’t mean it,” I whined. “I mean, when he showed up like that, I figured he only was saying those things because I was going out with someone else.”

  “And now that you’ve had time to think about it?”

  “I realize that those aren’t the kind of words Ian would toss around lightly.”

  “See, that’s what I’m talking about,” Chelsea said. “You react before thinking. It’s the whole short-sighted thing.” She came around the counter and nudged my side. “So, here’s a novel idea: go tell Ian this.”

  I bit my lip. “I tried. He told that he doesn’t want me in his life.”

  “You must have hurt him greatly.”

  “Thanks for the newsflash.”

  She ignored my sarcasm. “But it’s Ian. He gets worked up and very passionate about things – see, there’s that word. He’s very passionate about you. He always has been, in one way or another. I’m sure he’ll forgive you.”

  I wasn’t so optimistic. “You really don’t know Ian, do you?”

  “No, you’re the only one who has ever truly known him. But, seeing as how I’m not blinded by feelings for him, I’d say I have a much clearer perspective of the situation.”

  I hoped she was right. “God, when did you become so insightful?”

  She shrugged. “About the same time you became so thickheaded.”

  I stuck out my tongue, which caused her to laugh and roll her eyes. “Ah, Ivy, always the mature one.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  I was pushing my fork around my plate of mushy, tasteless microwave pasta when Pandora hopped onto the kitchen table and began meowing loudly and pathetically. I ignored her for a minute, but when she thrust her head under my hand, I was forced to drop my fork and take her into my arms.

  Instead of purring, like I was used to, Pandora’s pitiful meowing continued. She sounded so sad, so inconsolable.

  I could relate.

  “What’s wrong, honey?” I asked, scratching her behind the ears. She had food, water, and fresh litter, so it could be none of those things. “You miss him?” I slid my nails under Pandora’s chin. “Yeah, me too.”

  Truer words had never been spoken. I missed Ian terribly, to the point where I felt like I had an Ian-shaped hole in my chest. I’d seen him the Tuesday night at the station, but he’d completely shut me out. The one time I’d tried to talk to him on a personal level, during one of our breaks, he’d gotten up and walked out of the room.

  It had been too much to hope that he’d miraculously have changed his mind over the weekend. Things didn’t work like that in the real world. One of us was going to have to take the first step to repair the breach between us, and since he hadn’t defrosted one bit since Saturday night, it was left up to me.

  It only seemed right, since I’d been the one in the wrong.

  Sliding my arm under Pandora’s belly, I lifted her and my plate, dropping the latter in the sink. The former, I put down on my bed before digging in my closet for something comfortable to put on. I settled on a worn hoodie-sweatshirt, and then stopped in front of the mirror to tie my hair up in a messy pony-tail.

  It was time to go talk to Ian. I could only pray he’d be willing to listen.

  ***

  I felt only a small amount of anxiousness as I knocked on the door to Ian’s bedroom. While I knew I should probably feel more, considering what a life-changing moment this had the potential to be, I was just so tired of the strain between us. I wanted it over, one way or the other.

  The metal music blaring behind the door was silenced, and the door opened. Ian stood there in a pair of jeans and nothing else. His hair was flat, like he hadn’t bothered to style it, and the flesh around his eye had turned a yellowish color. He still looked great. His gaze flattened the moment he saw me, then focused on a point above my head. “What are you doing here?”

  I hugged myself. “Can we talk?”

  “I made my feelings clear.”

  “You did, but… Come on, Ian. Please.”

  He closed his eyes and shook his head. “I don’t want to fight anymore,” he said in a weary voice.

  “I’m not here to fight. I just want to talk.”

  He opened his eyes and stared at me for a long moment. With a resigned sigh, he pushed the door open.

  I ducked my head as I passed under his arm and entered his room. I looked around, noting that it was even cleaner than usual. He’d always been relatively neat, but now you could eat off the floor. Had he too found himself cleaning like a freak to fill the hours?

  The question faded as I turned around. Ian closed the door and crossed the room to his bed. The mattress springs creaked as he lowered himself on its surface. He rested his elbows on his knees and clasped his hands together. Then, he simply watched me. Waited.

  I wasn’t entirely sure where to start, and the pressure of Ian’s expectant gaze on me wasn’t offering any hints. Turning away in the hopes of gaining some mental clarity, I walked to the window and looked down. It afforded a view of the front courtyard. I saw a couple of guys playing Frisbee in the grassy area below. A girl in a handmade sheath with dirty-blonde dreadlocks walked a black Labrador puppy down the sidewalk. A man and woman sat on the wall by the front entrance, eating their lunches and laughing about something. Two weeks ago, one would have seen Ian and me doing something very similar on a beautiful, sunny day like this.

  Bracing my hands on the window sill, I peered back over my shoulder. “How have things been?” I asked, going for an icebreaker.

  The stony look on Ian’s face told me that it sounded as lame to him as it had to me. There was no breaking the ice in a situation like this. I breathed deeply and changed tactics. “I miss you,” I told him, knowing honesty – for once – was the only way to go. It’s what we’d been missing for far too long.

  I waited, hoping he would say he missed me, too, but he just watched me.

  Swallowing the hot lump in my throat, I returned my gaze to the window. “I hate what’s happened to us. And I know I have no one to blame but myself.” I turned. “Last week, when you told me you…how you felt, I reacted badly. It was stubborn and heartless and…” I swallowed again, feeling stupid and inadequate for being unable to come up with the right words. “I was so blinded by my own frustration and anger that I didn’t want to hear it. I refused to believe it, because, if it was true, it meant I was in the wrong, and I felt like I’d experienced too much hurt to be in the wro
ng. But I’m admitting it now. I’m sorry.”

  Ian dropped my gaze and looked down to frown at his hands. “Yeah. So?”

  I hadn’t expected him to make this easy on me.

  “I get it. You’re angry at me, and I deserve it. I’ve been so self-involved that I never stopped to consider how difficult it would be for you to say what you were feeling. I should have. If knowing you for as long as I have has taught me anything, it’s that you don’t do anything unless you mean it. Not when it comes to me. I just... when you wouldn’t talk to me about it, I jumped to the wrong conclusions. But you have to know, Ian, that I didn’t really mean it when I said we shouldn’t be friends anymore.” I rushed over and knelt before him, taking his hands in mine and imploring him with my eyes. “You have to know that, Ian,” I pleaded. My voice broke on his name.

  His frown deepened, but I saw a spark of emotion in his eyes. It wasn’t much, but enough to encourage me to go on.

  “There has to be some way to fix this,” I said in desperation. “Can’t we just…I don’t know, can’t we just go back to the way--?”

  “No,” he said firmly, cutting me off. He jerked his hands out of mine, his expression growing hard and stubborn. “There is no going back.”

  I stilled. Then, as the outright refusal of his words fully penetrated my brain, I dropped his hands and wilted. I couldn’t suppress the tears this time. I sniffed and wiped at my nose.

  "Well, that’s that, I guess.” I pushed myself to my feet, and mechanically walked to the door. I wanted to get out of there before I had a total emotional meltdown. My hand froze on the doorknob when he spoke.

  “The night I saw you with Jayden,” Ian said, his voice carefully colored in neutral shades, “I thought I could be the better man. I told myself I’d bow out gracefully and go back to being your friend – no harm, no foul. But I can’t just turn it off. I tried. Things have changed and they can’t change back.” He looked me directly in the eye, and although his expression was closed, I could sense his vulnerability. “I wouldn’t know how to go back, even if I wanted to.”