by Jessica Roe
“My bad. Guys' night it is.”
I snort, because he's a fucking dumb ass but he makes me laugh.
“Nash!”
Our heads swivel in surprise at the feminine voice, because Corbin's Bar is the last place in the world anyone would ever expect for Bambi to appear. She's just too classy for a place like this; a place where your shoes stick to the ground and no one ever gets carded and half the clientele are high.
She heads our way, darting through tables and adjusting her tiny black dress before helping herself to a seat between me and Nathan. Sitting with her back to him, she acts like he's not even there. My stomach clenches just like it does every time I see her out of the blue. It's like my body needs to prepare itself for her presence or something.
Nathan grunts and heaves a sigh, so I glare at him over her shoulder before turning back to her. “Hey, Bambi. What're you doing here?”
“One of my girlfriends has a crush on the bartender,” she replies, rolling her eyes. She mentioned to me once about how much she dislikes bartenders – something about them pushing alcohol on vulnerable people too idiotic to know when to stop drinking. I remember thinking at the time that it was kind of hypocritical, since she had no problem buying drinks from bartenders, but I'd pushed that thought aside. Bambi had opinions, that was all. It was why I liked her so much. “So we're stopping here for a drink before we head on to the new place. It's cocktail night.” She giggles lightly, placing a flirty hand over my wrist and leaning in so close that I catch the faint trace of her perfume. It's a move I remember well – she used to use it on me all the time when we were dating and she wanted me to kiss her.
I swallow hard, because this isn't the same Bambi who broke up with me a few months ago. It isn't even the one from before, the one I dated. This Bambi is flirtier and gigglier and girlish in a way she'd always mocked other women for being.
“Well have fun,” Nathan hints dismissively. She shoots him a disgusted look over her shoulder, like his very presence upsets her, but otherwise ignores him.
“Don't listen to him,” I say to her. “He's just being an ass.”
He glares at me in disbelief but I concentrate only on Bambi. “As always,” she chirps. Her face smooths out, and that pretty smile appears firmly back in place so quickly I'm almost skeptical of it. But her hand is still on my skin, her fingers trailing patterns over the hair on my forearm, and it's hard to concentrate on anything but that. Is she flirting with me? My muscles lock, because Bambi sitting here in front of me, smiling at me like that again. . .it's all I've wanted ever since we broke up. “Anyway, I've been thinking about you.”
My heart leaps, but I do well not to show it. In fact I'm smooth as fucking shit as I smirk at her and lean back in my seat. “That so?”
“Yuh huh. I wanted to call you, but I wasn't sure I should. Not after I saw you with Ivy.”
Do not mention Ivy. Do not mention fucking Ivy. I can't think about her right now.
“We're just friends, you know that. What about that douche you were with last time I saw you?”
Her forehead creases a little as she thinks. “Oh, you mean Anthony?” She waves a hand in the air nonchalantly. “We went out on a few dates, but it didn't work out. He's just so uninformed. That man couldn't even tell the difference between the work of Pablo Picasso and Leonardo da Vinci.”
I laugh along with her, even though I don't think it's all that funny. A part of me wonders whether she talked shit like this about me after she left me. But mostly I'm just happy she's laughing with me again, just like old times.
“Well you should've called, Bambi.”
She shrugs shyly, but I can tell her bashfulness is just an act. She's never had a bashful moment in her life. “I wasn't sure you'd take my call, not after I broke up with you like a complete and utter idiot.”
I freeze. Is she saying that she regrets our break up? I am the fucking man. “You can always call me,” I tell her softly. “Anytime.”
Smiling prettily, her hand tightens around my wrist. “Hey, maybe we could go for coffee soon! Talk some?”
“Sure.” I nod, trying not to seem too eager. “I'd like that.”
One of her friends calls her over then, so she leans forward and kisses my cheek before skipping away, satisfaction practically oozing out of her. I watch her go the entire time, all the way out of the bar until she and her friends have disappeared. When I finally turn back to Nathan, remembering he's even there, he's looking at me in a way he never has before. He's disgusted. And the guy is kind of a shit head, so it takes a lot to disgust him.
“Don't start,” I say with a weary sigh. “Bambi isn't as bad as you make her out to be.”
“You think I give a flying fuck about her?” he demands, and the venom in his voice takes me by surprise. “I can't believe you're still under that bitch's spell.”
“It's not a spell-”
“Like hell it isn't!”
Rolling my head back, I crack my neck. “Look, there are some people you just don't get over. Like you and Phee-”
“Don't fucking compare you and Bambi to me and Phee. There's nothing-” He shakes his head, unwilling to talk about her even now. Phee is an old wound he's not about to uncover. Rubbing his hands over his face in frustration, he says, “I thought you were over her skinny ass. What in the hell do you think you're playing at?”
I pause, my beer frozen half way up to my lips as I stare at him in disbelief. “This is none of your business, Nathan. What's your problem?”
His face grows steadily redder with anger. “My problem is that I'm trying my hardest not to kick your ass right now!” His voice is loud enough that a couple of people from nearby tables are eyeing us curiously.
Obviously I've missed something, so I put my beer back down on the sticky table and give him my full attention. “Nathan, seriously. What's the deal?”
“You making dates with your ex-girlfriend is the deal. You forgetting about someone? Blonde, beautiful? Someone I would happily break your face for?”
“Wait, you talking about Ivy?”
“Of course I'm talking about Ivy! Last I knew the two of you were tangling up in the sheets together like a couple porn stars taking part in a sex marathon. I've let it go up until now, even though the girl is like a sister to me, because I thought you actually gave a shit about her. Hell, out of all of us you always seemed to care about her the most. But if you're gonna disrespect her like this then then you and I have a problem, buddy.”
There aren't many people in this world that Nathan really cares about. Certainly not anyone in his family. He's got his friends: me and Ivy, Silver and Blair, maybe our families too, and that's it. But when it comes to those of us he does care about, he'd defend us 'till the end of the world, even against each other.
But no matter his good intentions, he has no idea what he's talking about right now. I tell myself that's the reason I'm getting pissed off, and not because of the sliver of guilt creeping up my spine. “You need to back off. It's not like that between me and Ivy. It's just sex, and we're both cool with that arrangement. We even set rules about this shit – if one of wants to hook up with someone else we just end it. No drama.”
He folds his arms and shakes his head. “I don't give a damn what rules you two idiots came up with. If you and Ivy are in a relationship, you treat her right and you don't agree to go on a fucking coffee date with some other girl. Especially not that girl. I mean what the hell, man? What do you want Bambi for when you got Ivy? Ivy's easily worth a million of her.”
“Me and Ivy, we're not in a relationship, Nate. That's the whole point.”
Scoffing, he throws back his beer and runs a hand through his messy hair. “Sure you're not.”
“It's just sex,” I repeat frustratedly. He's messing with my head, making me doubt myself. Making me doubt Ivy. What the two of us have is easy, simple. It's nothing more, right?
So why do I suddenly feel guilty over what just happened with Bambi?
“Yeah. Just sex. Because there's no emotional stuff going on. Except that's never been the case with the two of you has it, dickhead? The emotional stuff already existed. Did either of you ever bother to think about that before you started screwing each others brains out?”
My mouth opens then closes, because no, we didn't. We were both so consumed with lust for one another that we didn't really think about anything. And when Nathan is the one making sense, things are definitely going to shit. “So we have friendly feelings too,” I say weakly. “Friendship doesn't make a relationship.”
He shakes his head at me like I'm an idiot. “You care about her, man. More than you even realize. And the worst thing is that you let Bambi screw with your head so you don't even see it, but I do. I see the way Ivy looks at you when she thinks no one else is watching. You're gonna break her heart, and I'm going to have to break you. I love you both, but she just isn't as tough as she thinks she is. She needs someone to watch out for her.”
That sliver of guilt, it's growing into something else. Morphing, spreading out across my chest and taking over my whole body. Uneasiness swamps me. He can't be right, can he? Ivy doesn't have feelings for me. She can't. She was even more against this than I was in the beginning. Sure we love each other, but it's not a romantic kind of love. “You've got it all wrong. There's no relationship. There's friendship and there's sex. That's it.”
“You're having sex with someone you care about, who cares about you. You do things to make each other happy. You miss her when she's not around – you think I don't see you texting her all the time? I'm not blind, dude.”
“Nathan-”
“I bet you even sleep in the same room. When was the last time you slept apart?”
“You're getting too fucking personal,” I reply angrily, but it's only because I don't remember. I don't think we've slept apart since we first started hooking up.
Clearly the smug bastard already knows my answer without me even having to say it. “Do you even screw every time you sleep together?”
My mind automatically goes to those few times over this past week that I've had to work late and Ivy's already been sleeping when I've finally gotten home. Instead of sleeping in my own bed, I'd crawled under her covers and wrapped my arms around her because my room had seemed too big and empty without her in it. “Fuck you.”
I expect him to look triumphant, but to his credit he doesn't. He just watches me knowingly, losing some of his steam. There's an almost pitiful expression on his face, like he knows more about our situation than I do. “If you think you're not in a relationship then you're kidding yourself.”
“Don't know what to tell you, dude. We're not. That's all there is to it.”
“Does Ivy know that?”
He gets me with that one, and the uneasy feeling spreads, creating a dark pit of fear in my stomach. Of course she does. She was the one who was so adamant about there being no strings attached in the first place. So why does everything suddenly feel so wrong? “This thing with Ivy,” I say. “We can end it anytime. I can stop whenever I want.”
“Says every addict ever,” Nathan replies dryly. He stands then and goes to the bar to order more drinks, and I know our fight is over for now. He's made his point, he's had his say, and now he'll sit back and watch to see what we do next before he reacts again. That's the way he's always been, whereas I've always been the kind of guy who rushes head first into everything without thinking things through. Clearly.
But the effects of our disagreement, the thoughts he's rammed mercilessly into my head, they're stuck there. Every moment Ivy and I have shared over the past month replays over and over in my head and I have to admit that they're not as clear cut as I'd been pretending they were.
Things don't seem as simple as they once did, and that dark pit grows.
+++
I'm cold with Ivy over the next few days. I'm a complete dick with her, to be honest. I ignore her calls, don't respond to her texts, delete her video messages before I can even watch them and I spend hardly any time at home. I'm not being fair to her, I know that, but I haven't been able to shake this uneasy feeling inside ever since Nathan and I had words at the bar. It's a constricting feeling, like the fear has clamped down on my chest and is making it difficult to breathe. It only gets worse whenever I'm near her.
It was my birthday yesterday and I know she'd planned something for me. Probably something awesome, most definitely something sexy. So like a giant ass bag I didn't even bother to go home. I shot her a quick apology text and then went out drinking with a few of the guys from the office, ending the night crashed out on one of their sofas. It was a seriously dick move and I fucking hate myself for it, hate myself for the way I'm treating her. If another guy acted this way with her I'd be first in line to break his legs, which just makes this whole thing worse.
But I can't avoid her forever. The day after my birthday my mom hosts one of her old get togethers with Ivy's family and my attendance is mandatory. When it comes to Mom, you just don't say no.
Avoiding Ivy is no longer possible. I don't even think I want to keep avoiding her, not really. Despite everything getting all screwed up in my head, I miss her, which is just fucked up since it's my damned fault. All of this is my damned fault, right down to that very first moment we shared in the rain.
One thing I do know for sure – I'm really confused about a lot of shit right now.
I don't meet her gaze throughout dinner, disgustingly grateful that most of our families have no idea what the two of us have been up to. Thankfully Jemma and Blair are still in the city, but Zac eyes the pair of us every now and then with a barely concealed confusion.
After dinner I watch her disappear outside and I realize that I can't keep doing this, to her or myself. I slip out behind her, unsurprised to find her on the old weathered bench on the porch. After we'd finally become friends when we were kids, this was where the two of us spent of our family dinners. Plotting mostly.
It's raining heavily again, the drops battering on the porch roof so loudly Ivy doesn't hear me approach. I watch her for a minute, taking in her half shadowed profile. She's beautiful. I've always known that, would've had to have been dumb to miss it, but her beauty has never made my stomach tighten the way it does now. Because when it comes to her, it's not just all the outside stuff – though the outside stuff is so unbelievably hot – but she's breathtaking all the way through. It's why I. . . It's probably why I never should have started this with her in the first place. She's too good for anything I have to give her.
Finally sensing my presence, she tilts her head up to smile at me. It's weak, questioning, but still it does weird shit to my insides. I sit down silently next to her, my fingers aching with the need to touch her. It's hard not to notice all the ways my body reacts to her now. I hate Nathan and his big mouth.
The air is fresh, but thick with that musty, rainy smell. We're covered under the porch roof, but even so my skin is soon damp from the moisture clinging to the air.
“I was just thinking about the last time it rained this heavily,” she says, giving me a teasing grin. Most girls would be on my back about the way I've ignored her and she just. . .lets it go.
“Yeah,” I drawl. “But last time I couldn't do this.” Unable to help myself, I grab her around her waist and hoist her onto my lap. Even though I know I shouldn't, I bend my head down to kiss her. I need to kiss her. It's been too long.
She puts a hand in front of my mouth, so I bite down on her finger. “Someone might see, dummy.”
“They're all watching TV, we'll be fine.” I don't give her another opportunity to argue as I steal her hand away and press my lips to hers. It was supposed to be a quick kiss, something to tease her with, but I lose myself in the softness of her lips and the sweet taste of her tongue. I lose myself in the feel of her hand on my cheek and the silkiness of her hair between my fingers and her smell. Strawberries. Always strawberries. It drives me so damned wild.
She lets out a
little moan as our kiss deepens. I slide my hand down to her waist to pull her closer, because she never feels close enough. I always want her closer. Her tongue is cold at first and tastes like ice cream from dessert, but it soon warms up as I brush it with mine.
The kiss ends gently, much softer than usual, and I move my head back a couple of inches to gaze down at her. Her eyes are shining and her lips swollen from the pressure of mine – it's my favorite look on her. It makes me feel possessive, kind of nuts. I want to make her look this way all the time. There's nothing wrong with that. Nathan's head is up his ass, he has no idea what he's talking about.
Ivy smiles up at me, her thumb stroking my cheek. There's something hidden in her eyes that makes me breathe harder. Something deep, powerful, consuming. Something that never used to be there.
Like a sledgehammer to the chest, it hits me all at once. Nathan was fucking right, the bastard. Things between Ivy and I, they're not so black and white anymore. They're not simple and easy like I'd thought they were – they probably never were to begin with. I've been so blinded by my lust for her that I couldn't see it, and now that I have, I can't let it go.
I've ruined us for good. Me and my uncontrollable fucking dick. This is my fault. If I'd left her alone the first time she said no to me, if I hadn't insisted on teasing her and seducing her and ripping down her walls and defenses, then none of this would ever have happened. Not the sex, and sure as hell not the emotions.
Because it isn't just about sex anymore. Despite all those rules we created for ourselves, we've somehow crossed the line and things are complicated now.
I can't deal with that, not with Ivy. Especially not now Bambi has just come back into my life.
Shifting her back onto the bench, I stand swiftly, needing to get away before she sees the overwhelming confusion on my face. “I gotta go.”
“But what-”
“I have things to do,” I reply, my voice coming out unnecessarily curt.
“What things?”
