Sex Becomes Her

by Regina Cole

  “Chandler!” Her warning distracted him long enough to let Tyler land a punch in his midsection. Chandler grunted in pain as Eliza winced, and the security guards pulled them apart.

  “Tyler, what the fuck are you thinking?”

  “This asshole just attacked me! It’s that bitch’s fault.” As Tyler’s finger pointing raged on, Eliza hurried to Chandler’s side.

  “Oh God, are you hurt?” Eliza’s own chest was on fire, but she ignored it as she checked Chandler over. His cheek was swollen, and his eye looked suspiciously dark.

  “Ma’am, please step away. The police are on their way.” The security guard edged her away from Chandler as Harold started to stroke out.

  “No! Why the hell would you call the cops?” Harold’s face was purpling with rage. “You idiot, this’ll be all over the papers. It’s going to cost me a fortune to keep this quiet now.”

  Chandler’s gaze was still glued to Tyler, as if none of the others were even there. “I think I’ve made myself clear. Leave Eliza alone. She’s not your girlfriend now, so you’ll keep your damn mouth shut about her, no matter what happened while you were dating.”

  Eliza stepped back. No, it’s not like that. I didn’t really do those things, Tyler’s exaggerating!

  Her mind screamed the words, but her mouth just couldn’t echo them.

  Chandler continued, “Eliza might be adventurous in bed, but she’s not a freak. And you don’t know what you missed out on. She’s incredible, and if she wants to leave me for a woman, well, that’s her problem and mine. So fuck off.”

  No! I’d never leave you for a—That’s not what I’d asked—You don’t understand—

  She was frozen like a statue, one of those angels in the garden with their hands over their faces. She couldn’t move, pinned to the spot like she was frozen there. Frozen. She couldn’t really feel the cold anymore.

  “You’re an idiot.” Tyler spat onto the pavement, barely missing the security guard’s boot. The liquid was pinkish with blood. “You’re a fucking tool, and you deserve whatever she puts you through.”

  “Nice to meet you, too. Now leave her the fuck alone.”

  “Shut up, you two. Good God, what am I going to do now?” Harold put a hand over his forehead as if his thoughts pained him. “Come on, bring them inside. No reason we all should freeze our nuts off while the cops take their time getting here. I don’t suppose there’s any way to tell them not to come now, is there?”

  The security guard holding Tyler responded while Eliza fell into step behind Chandler.

  Her meeting with Harold had gone so well, and now everything was up in the air once more. It was happening all over again. The little slice of happiness she’d scraped up had been burned into an unrecognizable form, and Tyler was holding the blackened match.

  Once they were inside the foyer, and the security guard was satisfied that Chandler wasn’t about to either leap on Tyler again or make a break for it, he stepped back and allowed Eliza to move next to Chandler.

  “Liza,” Chandler said. He reached for her hand, and only then did she realize that she was still gripping the painful spot in the center of her chest. He cradled her hand in his, and she winced at the sight of blood on his knuckles. “Are you okay? You fell pretty hard.”

  Her cheeks were stinging. Why? A trembling finger wiped her face. Oh. Tears. She’d been crying and hadn’t even realized it.

  “Come on. You’re shivering. Lean close to me.”

  His arm went around her shoulder, and her teeth chattered as she snuggled close to him. She’d tried so hard to keep this away from Chandler, to prevent him from knowing the depth and breadth of her problems, but they’d literally punched him right in the face.

  What would she do if Tyler pressed charges? Harold was so concerned about the public face of Quality. He’d made it clear that if she kept things quiet there was every chance she’d be rehired at the first of the year. But now—would that even happen? And Chandler’s business, oh God, what if it got back to his clients that he’d been arrested?

  She’d cost him so much, so very much, and she couldn’t be selfish anymore. She loved him too much.

  That morning, talking and laughing while preparing to pick out a Christmas tree, felt like a lifetime away.

  “I’m sorry,” Chandler broke the silence. “I didn’t leave the car until he came up to me and started talking through the window. I promise I didn’t try to talk to him first.”

  “I know,” she choked out. “I’m so sorry about this. So, so sorry.”

  “It’s not your fault,” Chandler said, but before he could continue, sirens and flashing blue lights moved into Quality’s lot. The cops were there already, and she still didn’t have a clue how to make any of this better.

  “It’s going to be okay,” Chandler said as the security guard motioned Eliza away. “I promise.”

  But he was wrong. Nothing would ever be okay again, because for Chandler’s own good, she’d have to end this. She refused to be responsible for Chandler’s future being ruined the way hers had been.

  The police station at Appledale was nice. Dated, but clean and fairly efficient for such a small town. The questioning process took a little over two hours. Neither of them pressed charges, mostly due to the fact that Harold Hagans looked just this side of a heart attack over the whole thing.

  But even getting processed through Appledale’s correctional system didn’t worry Chandler as much as Eliza herself did. Something wasn’t right. She was taking this much harder than he’d expected. And though she refused to press charges against Tyler, Chandler wished she’d at least agree to go to the hospital and get checked out. She’d fallen pretty hard. But she’d insisted she was fine, then they’d driven back to her house—silently. When they arrived, Chandler watched as Eliza bolted into the house.

  He pulled the keys from the ignition and shut the car door behind him. As he walked toward the door, he looked at the sky. Thick, gray clouds hung low over him, the light dusting of snow already past. Hmm. Figured. He couldn’t even get a white Christmas when he flew north for it.

  As soon as he went into the house, he heard her crying. His ribs felt tight, his emotions snarling and knotting inside him.

  She wants to be alone. Give her a few.

  He stopped in the bathroom and took stock of the damage. Not too bad. He’d skinned his knuckles, had a blackened eye, and his upper lip was nicked and swollen from a lucky shot Tyler had landed, but on the whole he wasn’t bad off. He cleaned the small wounds and raided her medicine cabinet for Neosporin and a Band-Aid for his hand.

  Her cries had gotten quieter, and now as he left the bathroom, they were gone altogether. The house was eerily quiet, only the soft hum of the heating system giving any sound at all.

  He used his left hand to knock on her bedroom door. The right one was bandaged. “Liza?”

  The bedsprings creaked a little, as if she’d shifted. Standing? Coming to the door? He waited, but no other sound came.

  He knocked again. “Liza, please talk to me.”

  Small footsteps then, and finally the click of the bedroom door’s lock. She pulled it open, but only enough to let him see her face.

  “I think you should go.”

  His lungs gave a painful squeeze, and he shook his head to clear it. “What?” No way could he have heard that right.

  “I said, I think you should go. I shouldn’t have said yes in the first place. I’m sorry. I’ll pay for your return flight, or a hotel room for you until your original one. Just let me know how much it is. And I’ll pay your cab fare to the airport.”

  She tried to close the door, but he blocked it with his foot.

  “What the hell are you saying? I don’t understand. Why do you need me to go?”

  She broke then, shattered into a million pieces right before his eyes. “Because I’m fucked up, and I can’t let you be fucked up, too. Didn’t you hear Tyler? I’m dirty, and broken, and useless. I can’t let your life be ruined
by this, can’t you see? This”—she waved between them wildly—“whatever it is, it’s done. I can’t let you, not now, I can’t—”

  “You’re wrong. It’s not over, Eliza. Why the hell would you be worried about me? No matter what you like, it’s—”

  “Don’t you see, that’s the fucking problem!” She dropped the door and it swung a little farther open. He wasn’t surprised to notice that the bed was rumpled. She’d probably been crying there since they’d gotten back.

  “What’s the problem?” He didn’t want to yell, but he found himself matching her impassioned tone. “How can I know what it is if you won’t tell me? How can I promise you that it doesn’t matter if you keep me in the dark about everything?”

  Her hands covered her face, and her reply was muffled. “You can’t be with someone like me. The distance, the problems, they’re too much.”

  “Too much for you, or too much for me?” He stepped backward. His head was pounding, a knife-like pain building in his temples.

  “For me,” she said softly. “I can’t do this anymore.”

  He set his mouth into a grim line. He wanted to fight back, wanted to assure her that they could overcome anything. But she’d just been dragged through the police station because of him. She’d just had her whole world turned upside down over the past week. That could make anyone feel overwhelmed. And if he wasn’t part of the solution, he was part of the problem.

  Only one thing he could do.

  “Okay. Give me half an hour to pack and I’ll be out of your hair in no time.”

  He turned on his heel and stalked toward the living room. Sinking onto the couch, he rested his pounding head in his hands.

  Everything had gone to shit in such a short amount of time. Why hadn’t he seen this coming? Eliza hadn’t ever breathed a word of what her hang-up was, and if she was confused about her sexuality, he could understand that. But why had she chosen to keep everything from him? Hadn’t he shown her that he loved her, that he accepted her, that he was willing to try every kinky little thing she’d suggested?

  Before he realized what he was doing, his smartphone was in his hand and he was calling a cab. He’d already put too much of his heart on the line, and if he was going to be able to salvage any of it, he’d have to move quickly.

  Glancing at the hallway, he frowned. His stuff was in her bedroom. He’d have to go get it.

  The bedroom door’s knob turned easily under his hand this time. She’d left it unlocked.

  “Just need to grab my stuff,” he said gruffly, then turned his back to her and knelt by his suitcase.

  As he folded his clothes and placed them inside the black rolling bag, it was easy to feel her gaze on his back. He moved slowly, deliberately. The tension in the room crackled, and even though all he wanted was to give her the space she needed, if not take her in his arms and kiss this awfulness away, he did not rush his packing.

  “I’m sorry.” Her voice was small, wavering with tears.

  He paused in mid-zip and looked back at her. She was on her knees in the center of the bed. She still hadn’t removed her coat and boots. It was almost funny how overdressed she was.

  “What?”

  “I’m sorry about this. About Tyler. About taking things out on you.” She looked down at the comforter, her beautiful lips downturned. “I feel like I owe you an explanation.”

  He couldn’t pretend he didn’t want to know her side of the story, but he didn’t want to push her. So he stayed quiet, nodding for her to continue.

  She took a deep breath, and then said, “We dated for about a year. Tyler was nice enough, but—and I’m sorry to give you TMI—the sex wasn’t all that great. I started to research things to spice it up. I’d had this fantasy for a really long time, and I finally found someone to help me do it. She was a dominatrix, I guess you’d call her. I hired her because I wanted her to dominate both Tyler and me. Together, though, like spank us both and force him to fuck me, that kind of thing. I never wanted her to have sex with me, or to peg him or anything. But he freaked out, and then broke up with me, and that’s why he says those awful things about me. Half the things he accuses me of aren’t even true, but everyone in town believes him. They treat me like shit. But I don’t know what to do now. I’m all mixed up. I thought maybe—I thought you and I—But then . . .”

  He rose to his feet and lifted the suitcase onto its end. Leaving it standing by the wall, he crossed to the bed and sank down on the edge. With his bandaged hand, he reached for hers, and gave it a gentle squeeze.

  “Thanks for telling me. You need time. We both do, honestly.”

  She nodded, the tears still streaming slowly down her cheeks.

  A horn honked outside then, and she flinched.

  “That’s the cab.”

  Her eyes went wide as she met his gaze. Her lip was trembling, and he wanted so badly to run his finger across it, to press a kiss to her lips. But he couldn’t. Not now.

  “I’ll give you a call, okay?”

  She nodded, her hair falling forward.

  He waited for a second, hoping she’d say something else. Like maybe, Don’t go, I love you, I want you to stay with me, we can work this out. But she didn’t, so he stood and gripped the handle of his suitcase.

  “Talk to you soon.”

  “Okay.”

  Even though she’d agreed, he found himself doubting that it would actually happen. As he exited the little house that had started to feel so familiar over the past couple of days, he began to put his brain to work.

  “Take me to the Holiday Inn on the corner of Oak and Elm, please.”

  “You got it,” the cabbie said with a nod, and the cab pulled away. Chandler watched as the little blue house disappeared behind them.

  Time, he could give her. Space, he could give her. But he wasn’t willing to give up on them.

  He loved her too damn much.

  29

  When Eliza woke the next morning, it was to an empty space in the bed beside her. For just a second before she’d opened her eyes, she’d thought she’d heard Chandler’s soft snore beside her. That made the reality of the lonely bed even tougher to take somehow.

  She shut her emotions down and went through the habit of eating breakfast and dressing as quickly as she could.

  Chandler had shown her, for a couple of days at least, that she could be happier. So she was determined to make that happen. She’d spent a long while last night researching, and today she’d go out and find work. Someone was bound to need an employee of her skills and experience. At least, she hoped so. Her savings would last for a good while, but staying cooped up in her house alone for the next six months seemed like a fate worse than death. Especially because she saw Chandler in every corner of the place now.

  The sky was as overcast and snowy-looking as it had been yesterday. The forecast had warned of an impending snowfall, but it wasn’t supposed to happen until later that evening. Her errands wouldn’t take that long unless things went really, really well, and she wasn’t expecting that.

  The first place she tried, a pharmaceutical manufacturer, didn’t have any openings at the moment. The second place, a sewage-treatment plant, did, but when she’d given her name the supervisor had hiked his eyebrows and smothered a laugh. Then she noted his name tag. Anyone with the last name of Hagans had no business being her boss, ever again. So she declined the interview, thanked him politely, and left.

  Only three hours later, she was back home. Nowhere in her immediate area would work for a new job, unless she decided to switch careers. And frankly, she didn’t want to. Her job was interesting, and fun, and she liked what she did.

  As she drove down the familiar streets of Appledale, she watched the sights go by. She’d ridden her bike down these roads as a kid. Scraped her knee on the basketball court in that park. Fallen off the trampoline behind that house when her friend Melanie lived there.

  Her stomach had been leaden since Chandler had left, and it only felt heavier now
. She frowned tightly as she braked at a stoplight.

  Why did she stay here, other than the obvious? Sure, she’d grown up here, and she had been happy here before, but why couldn’t she just pick up and leave? It would be so much easier. But was that giving up? Was that letting Tyler get the best of her?

  The light turned green and she made her way through the intersection. At this point it didn’t matter who lost or won. Her life was a prison of rumors, lies, and half truths, and it had just cost her the best guy she’d ever known. Enough was enough. She’d sacrifice her childhood home for a chance at a brighter future.

  Her mind made up, she made the turn into her subdivision. There should be a good amount of opportunity for a chemist down in North Carolina, right? Or maybe that was too sudden. She’d hurt him by kicking him out, she knew that. But what harm could checking out the possibilities do?

  She turned into her driveway and frowned. There was an unfamiliar SUV parked by the curb. Shiny black with chrome rims, it was a flashy car for this neighborhood. Oh well, maybe the guys across the street were entertaining. It didn’t have anything to do with her.

  She mounted her front steps just as the first flakes started to fall. She turned and looked out at the fast-flying snow. Chandler had mentioned several times how he’d never had a white Christmas. She’d wanted his first to be here with her. But she’d fucked that up.

  Her shiver had less to do with the cold and more to do with the fear that she’d never be able to fix things between them.

  Come on, Liza. Get yourself together and move forward.

  With her subconscious cheering her on, she unlocked the door. The instant her foot hit the floor of her foyer, a prickle ran up her spine and settled on the back of her neck. Soft voices came from down the hall. Someone was in her house.

  “Hello?” she called out as she pushed the door open. Damn it, her Mace was in the kitchen. She’d taken it off her key chain when she went to Bree’s wedding and had never bothered to put it back on. “Is someone there?”

  “Come in, Eliza. Remove your shoes.”