Imperfections

by Shaniel Watson

  "Because Thelma here might decide to drive my car off a cliff."

  Cat sticks her head out the window resting her chin on her arm. "Ooh I love that movie, what does that make you? Brad Pitt? I love Brad Pitt, he is sexy, he never ages; he's like a bottle of fine wine, only gets better with age."

  "I'm sure he does," I say dryly. "Sit back and try not to throw up in my car if a sudden wave of nausea hits you." I watch Ava go in and wait for her to call me. After ten long minutes I call her. She picks up and says her bad, she forgot. Ah Ava.

  I take Cat back to my place and put her down on my bed. I try to help her take off her coat but she swats my hand away. I stand back and watch her do it herself. After the third try she throws it to the floor in triumph with a smile plastered on her face.

  "See, I did it."

  "I see, it took you three tries but you did it."

  She sits up and looks at my phone next to her when the light alerting me to a call flashes. "Who's Donna?" The light stops flashing and she looks my way, the smile on her face gone. It flashes again and she picks it up holding up the screen for me to see. "She must want to talk to you real badly. I wonder what she could possibly want at this time."

  "She's a friend."

  "What kind of friend calls at three in the morning, Nick?"

  "An old friend." The phone flashes again and I wish Donna would give it up and stop calling.

  "Donna sure is persistent. You want me to answer it for you? I can do that." She holds her finger over the screen.

  "No." I snatch the phone out of her hands and put it in my pocket out of her reach, stepping back a good distance away from her.

  "I don't have old friends that call me in the middle of the night. Maybe I should get some friends like that."

  "No, you shouldn't."

  "Why not?"

  "I'm going to call Donna first thing tomorrow and let her know I won't be accepting any more late night calls. I won't have friends like that anymore."

  "Why's that?" she asks with the edge of my mattress curled tight in her hands.

  "Because I don't need them and I don't want them."

  "Since when?"

  "Since the night the most beautiful girl with sensually full pouty lips, warm almond-shaped brown eyes, with a body to be worshiped and adored with my lips and eyes opened the door and walked back into my life. She should be dripping with priceless diamonds, rubies, and jewels of every kind but the most priceless of them all would be my love wrapped around her like fine china, handled with infinite care."

  The grip she has on my mattress loosens, she blinks, opening her mouth then closing it back again. "She is so rare and special she deserves nothing less."

  We're silent. I take in every line, curve, and angle of her face. I want to pull her up against my chest and kiss her but I'm afraid she'll push me away. She's staring back at me, studying my face the same as I'm studying her. Closing her eyes she balls her hands into fists at the edge of my bed. I can see the steady rise and fall of her chest with each breath she takes. She speaks to me without opening her eyes, like there's something she doesn't want me to see. As if she's reading my mind, she says the two words I want to hear.

  "Kiss me."

  Without thought or question my feet move across the room to close the distance between us. My hand reaches for her and gently lifts her up pressing her soft full breasts against my chest.

  Pulling her bottom lip into my mouth, I gently suck until a moan escapes her mouth. She parts her lips, I suck on the center swirling my tongue around that one soft supple spot, before her tongue snakes out to circle mine and they slide against each other back and forth with our mouths open, crushed together in a hot haze of heat, breathing hard and fast.

  We both can't get enough as I suck the sweetness from her mouth. Needing to touch more of her my hands go under her skirt cupping her ass and lifting her up against me, her legs parted. She follows me, frantically grabbing a fistful of my shirt in her hands. She suddenly breaks the kiss covering her mouth and I try to catch my breath. Seeing her face I pause. I know what's coming next and it's not going to be good for her.

  Cat

  I suddenly feel sick. A wave of nausea comes over me, pulling away, I slap my hand over my mouth. I don't even have to ask. He already knows.

  "Straight down to your right."

  I make it just in time, and it's awful. I feel like my stomach is being yanked out of my body.

  I pull my head out of the toilet to see Nick sitting beside me on the floor. I didn't even see him come in. He looks at me, giving me a small smile, and brushes my hair back from my face.

  "I know what you're thinking, but don't worry, you're going to survive."

  "God, I hope you're right because it doesn't feel that way." Soon as the words leave my mouth, a cold sweat breaks out across my forehead, and I wretch up whatever else is left in my stomach. How embarrassing! My head stuck in a toilet bowl, vomiting all over his immaculately clean bathroom. How embarrassing is this moment in my life? And he's holding my hair back without making a face as if he's not totally grossed out. I pull my head out of the toilet, fold my hands on top of it, and rest my forehead against them, taking shallow breaths.

  "You don't have to sit here, I'm a mess, a hot mess."

  "Yes, I do, and you're not a hot mess."

  "Yes, I am."

  "Yes, you are. I was trying to make you feel better."

  I laugh and turn to face him. I'm met by those darn eyes of his. He looks even better now than he did ten minutes ago. He's like every girl's fantasy and he says he wants me. Why?

  "Why are you sitting here holding my hair?"

  "Who else is going to take care of you?"

  "You could be with any number of women, like Donna, instead of sitting here, babysitting me on the floor, watching me barf."

  "There is no one else I want to be with, no place else I'd rather be than here with you."

  "This is every guy's dream, to be sitting on the bathroom floor, holding back a girl's hair while her head is in his toilet bowl. You'll never look at this toilet the same again."

  "I'm sure I won't. It was christened by a beautiful girl who most guys would kill to have throw up on them."

  I roll my eyes at him. I shouldn't have done that, my eyes are throbbing in my head. I moan, and he places his hand on my back and gently rubs. I swallow and try my best not to throw up again.

  "You feeling a little better?"

  "No, but I don't think I'm going to throw up again."

  "Come on, let's clean you up."

  "No, just leave me here on the cold, hard floor. I deserve this; this is what I get for being a total slut!" He runs his hand up the back of my neck to get my attention.

  "Look at me. I don't want you talking shit about my girl, especially when it's not true. I'm against violence of any kind against women. Unless it's done to give them pleasure but if you keep talking like this, I might have to rethink that." He ends his last sentence with a smile.

  "I'm not your girl, you have another girl. I'm fucking things up for you and everyone else."

  "Trust me when I say you're not fucking anything up. It was already fucked-up. I'm the one to blame for that, not you."

  He takes my hands and slowly helps me up. A wave of nausea hits me, and I lean against him. I feel awful, but I'm still aware of his body and the heat. He feels warm and solid. God, I need that.

  Holding me steady after I rinse my mouth out he says, "Let me help you; you need to take these off."

  He reaches for the hem of my shirt. When my stomach is exposed, I instantly freeze and push his hands away.

  "You need to take a bath, but I'll leave, if you want me to."

  He puts his hand down, I sway a little and he holds me steady again. I have to make a decision, stay in my filth or let him help me. I know I can't do it by myself standing up. My head feels like it's about to explode. "Help me, please, but don't look."

  "How am I going to do that?"

&n
bsp; "Close your eyes, and feel your way through it."

  He smirks, looking down at me, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "It would be my pleasure to feel you up."

  I look up into his beautiful smug eyes and narrow my eyes at him. "If I had the strength, I would slap you." I close my eyes when another wave of nausea hits me. He takes my hands and places them on his shoulders.

  He's so close, he whispers in my ear, "Hold on tight, Cat."

  It's not a choice, if I don't, I'm going to fall flat on my face.

  Feeling his hand on my thighs, I breathe in and lean my head against his rock-hard chest. He runs his hands up the sides of my thighs to my waist. His fingertips graze my sensitive skin as he fists the hem of my shirt in his hands. His skin doesn't leave mine for a second when he opens his hands and presses his palms flat against my skin. He slides them up the middle of my back, carrying my shirt up, while his fingertips make swirling motions against my skin.

  He whispers in my ear, "Raise your arms for me."

  I do as he asks. I feel his hands slide up the back of my neck as he pulls my shirt up over my head, over my arms, and drops it to the floor. His hands feel good on me, warm and soothing against my skin. I don't want his hands to leave me, and they never do. He trails them back down the same path until he reaches the small of my back, I sigh with my eyes shut. He stops and pulls me in so close that I'm pressed fully against him. I wrap my arms around his neck and lean my head against his chest, listening to the strong steady beat of his heart.

  When he slides the tips of his fingers between my skin and my underwear I catch my breath and hold on tight. The palms of his hands glide over my ass, in one smooth motion, my panties and my skirt slide down my legs and drop to the floor. His hands are on the back of my thighs, I feel the heat of my wetness against my inner thigh. His hands move back up my ass to the small of my back and spans my waist. He holds me close for a minute and then effortlessly picks me up.

  He sits on the side of the tub with me on his lap, I never open my eyes…I trust him. This is the Nick who has looked out for me since I was a little girl, who took me to the movies, who teased me when I had my first date, and who threatened to kick the guy's ass if he laid one finger on me. This is the Nick I dream about, the one who would always take care of me, the way he's taking care of me now. It feels good to imagine I could have this all the time, and he could be mine always.

  I hear the water running, and it's like raindrops on my windowsill lulling me to sleep. My eyes are so heavy that I can barely keep them open.

  The only thing I hear is the sound of the water, and the only thing I feel is the rise and fall of Nick's chest against me while his powerful arms are wrapped around me. I'm safe. I feel the warmth of the water against my skin as I slide into the wetness, and the darkness of the night washes over me.

  Chapter Eleven

  Cat

  Mmm…I try to open my eyes but they feel heavy. It's a major effort trying to open both at the same time. I'll try opening one first and see how far I can get. I slowly pry one eyelid open. The sliver of light that peaks through has me slamming my eye shut, at the same time, a sharp pain slices through my eyeball up to the front of my head. I think it'll be safer to keep my eyes shut permanently.

  What the hell happened to me? Think…think…think. My brain feels sluggish, so does my body. Like being in a steam room wrapped in cellophane for hours. Let me see, I was with Ava. Yes, I must be at Ava's. We were drinking, yes, drinking, drinking a lot. My head. I can't even shout in my own head without it feeling like the inside of a bell someone is taking a hammer to. I'm going to lie still and take deep breaths.

  I think I have a hangover. If this is what it's like to have one, I don't know why anyone would want to do this to themselves. Next time I'm going to leave all the drinking to Ava and Matt, she's an expert at it.

  Matt, he was with us! We were all drinking and doing tequila shots. Never again! Ava's ass is on her own with that shit. Let me see, we were dancing and…before that Matt and I were talking—what were we talking about? Oh shit! Oh shit! Oh shit! I didn't. Did I? Flashes of last night are coming back to me. Pieces of the conversation with Matt before the drinking. Dancing and drinking in the club, which was more like dry humping.

  Then what? Holy fuck! My eyes fly open and a flood of light crashes into them, I think I'm blind.

  "Oh my God, my head is killing me." My hand comes up to my face to protect my eyes from the blinding sunlight as I groan into my hand. I don't know if the pain in my eyes or my head is worse. It's like they're merging into one, coming together to make me nauseous.

  "Hey, sunshine. Good, you finally woke up."

  I slowly pry my fingers and my hand away from my face to see Nick walking over to me. What is he doing here? "Why is it so bright in here, are you trying to kill me?" I feel like a vampire burned by the sunlight.

  "No, I'm not, but I hope you've learned a valuable lesson. You should remember this feeling the next time you go out with Ava and you start doing shots of tequila."

  "Believe me I will. What do you mean I finally woke up, and why are you here?"

  "To answer your first question it's now twelve thirty in the afternoon. And in answer to your second, where else am I supposed to be? This is my apartment."

  "Your apartment?" I crunch up my face letting my eyes adjust to the light in the room. I look around and realize this is not Ava's apartment or her bed. I notice something else that's not mine when I look down at the bed I'm in. "Nick." I swallow and bite my bottom lip nervously keeping my eyes down. I don't want to look in his eyes when I ask him this question. "Where are my clothes?"

  "I don't know; this is what you were wearing when you came here. The guy that dropped you off said you two had a hell of a good time."

  "What!" My eyes and my head immediately snap up to see him grinning at me. At the pain that shoots through my head I press my lips together grimacing and a little moan escapes from me. "Mmm...I hate you."

  "No, you don't. Sorry, I couldn't help myself."

  He hands me two white pills when he sits beside me on the edge of the bed. I lean back against the headboard looking at them. "What's this?"

  Nick stares at me for a second, studying my face as I look in my hand at the pills. I don't feel uncomfortable, I think it's because my head is throbbing from the effect of way too much alcohol.

  "Something to make your head feel better."

  I look at him skeptically, not because I don't trust him but because I don't think two little pills are going to make me feel better.

  "It's Tylenol."

  "Did you forget the rest of them? I don't think this is going to work for me."

  "You're not getting any more. It won't get rid of your hangover but it will ease up some of the pain. Only time will help you feel better."

  "I have a massive headache and my mouth is as dry as the desert in the middle of the day. I'm surprised I can't make sand roll out of my mouth." He smiles at me, leans over and brushes a lock of my hair out of my face with his fingers. He hands me a glass of water off the table next to the bed. I pop the pills into my mouth, drink half the glass and put it back down. Nick picks it up and hands it back to me.

  "Drink all of it. If you want to feel better, you have to drink a lot of water."

  I take the glass and finish it. I want to feel better as soon as possible. "Thank you."

  "No thanks needed."

  "How did I get to your house?"

  "You called me. Don't you remember anything from last night?"

  "Not much, it's all a little fuzzy."

  "You called me from the club. After hearing you talk about orgasmic peeing I decided it would be in your best interest if I came to get you."

  "Oh my God, did I say orgasmic peeing?"

  He's shaking his head up and down. "And something else about being from the 'BK BITCH!'"

  He's laughing at me and I close my eyes, press my head back into the headboard and cover my face from the embarrass
ment of it all. I'm never getting drunk again. I don't know how some people do it. They must really hate themselves to go through this torture.

  "Does that help bring back anything that happened last night?"

  I take my hands away from my face and look into his smiling eyes. Flashbacks of me throwing up in his bathroom and us kissing come back to me. I swallow and bite the corner of my bottom lip. I'm not sure what to say, feeling a little uneasy and my cheeks feel warm. I remember what happened. Every single touch. Every single kiss. From him and Matt. I need to get out of here, now. I can't believe this is happening, I have to talk to Ava. The freaking out I'm doing inside my head must show on my face. Nick's eyebrows pull together and he's staring at me with concern.

  "Are you okay? You don't look so good. Are you going to throw up again?"

  I look at him and throw the sheets off me. I do it so fast the blanket flies up in the air barely missing his face when I jump out of his bed. His bed. The throbbing in my head's almost forgotten for the moment. I'm more overcome with a severe case of embarrassment and guilt for what I did last night. More so for what I did with Matt. I can't believe I did that. On a desk with my legs wide up in the air; my mother would be so proud. Not. Oh my God, I have to get out of here. If I don't, I'll probably end up confessing to something I shouldn't even feel guilty about. He stands up and grabs me by the wrist before I can move past him.

  "What's wrong?"

  "Nothing."

  "If nothing's wrong, then why did you jump out of the bed like you were on fire?"

  Nice, Cat, couldn't you play it cool? Now he thinks something is wrong.

  "I remembered I didn't let anyone know I wasn't coming home last night, my parents are going to be worried. I need to get home. Where are my clothes?"

  "After I took them off in the bathroom I brought them in here, there in the chair."

  Letting go of my wrist he doesn't take his eyes off me. I don't take my eyes off him either. He knows I remember what happened between us last night. I put my hands on the front of my thighs, and I try to look away but he puts his hand on the side of my face, my eyes go to his lips when he speaks.