by Ann Stewart
I want to take my time with her, I want to make her mine again, and the look on her face makes my dick so hard it hurts. I brush her hair behind her ear and continue to graze my fingers down her jaw. “You’re so beautiful.”
She clutches my hand and turns it to place a kiss on my palm. “I’m sorry, Alex…for the other day…for everything.” Releasing my hand, she reaches up, and brushes her fingers against my cheek. I lean into her touch, closing my eyes before breathing her in.
“I can feel how much you want me, Hart. Why are you fighting this?” I plead.
“Before you left I asked you to give me time, right?” I nod, keeping my eyes closed, foreheads attached, in fear this is, yet again, coming to an end. “I still need that time, Alex. It was wrong of me to completely ignore you and it was even worse coming to New York and giving into you. It’s no secret I want you. I think my body pretty much gives it away, but that doesn’t change the fact that I need time to figure out what to do with everything that I’ve been handed.”
I can’t look at her. If I look at her, I’ll want to break something. Everything she’s been handed? What the fuck does that mean? I’ve been handed much worse and you don’t find me cowering away. Instead of giving into the anger, I tilt my head back and look to the ceiling. “I don’t get it, Elyssa. I really don’t. You said you still love me.”
“It has nothing to do with love, Alex.” The hell it doesn’t!
“Ughhh…you can’t say it, can you?” Frustration laced with annoyance and sadness is not a good look on me, but this is what it boils down to. “Are you confused about your feelings for Oliver?” Fuck me if she says yes. Time, I can deal with. Her being scared, I can also deal with. But her exploring her feelings for another guy…over my dead fucking body I’ll let another man touch her.
“When you accused me of having something with Oliver, I was so angry with you. But not for reasons you think. I slapped you because you thought I could replace you that quick. That what we had didn’t mean anything to me.”
“I see the way he looks at you.” It frustrates the hell out of me the way he eye fucks her every time he sees her. It makes me want to kiss every inch of her, rub myself against her, bury myself so deep inside her so that any man, including Oliver, no, especially Oliver, will know that she’s mine. “For now, I don’t see you looking at him that way, but I’m telling you right now, Elyssa, I refuse to let that change. I’m not giving up on us. You may be confused or scared or whatever it is that you feel right now, but I’m not. I’m certain. I knew the minute I saw you that I wanted you. I knew the moment I kissed you that I had to have you and I knew the second we were first together that I wanted forever. So, listen to me when I say this. I’m not giving up.”
She bites her lower lip before leaning in, placing one final kiss against my lips. “I’m not asking you to give up. I’m just asking for time.”
Remember what I said about time. Well, time can go fuck itself.
CHAPTER 5
Face flushed and stumbling, I hurry out of the men’s restroom. I must have the worst of luck because just two steps out, I see Oliver walking towards me. I panic. Even though his face is an unreadable mask, I don’t take a chance and rush to meet him. I hope to God he didn’t see me leaving the bathroom, better yet, let’s hope Alex required a few minutes before walking out. The last thing I need is another Alex versus Oliver confrontation.
“Ely, what’s going on?” he questions, with an odd expression. I have to give it to him. I’d ask me the same question if I was yanked in the opposite direction, locked arms with a crazy person. I don’t give up anything until we’re in the privacy of the small copy room. Alone.
“What’s up?” I cross my arms over my chest protectively as Oliver tilts his head, looking at me with confusion.
“Nothing. What’s up with you?”
“What did you need?” I purposely chose the copy room because it’s at the opposite end of Alex’s office and because I’m a nervous ball of confusion. I keep peeking over Oliver’s shoulder hoping that Alex doesn’t stride by. I can’t help my foot from tapping against the tile beneath me. Oliver continues to look at me in speculation.
He grins as he rests his side against the copier machine. “What makes you think I need something?”
“Well, you were coming to see me, right?” Silence. “Were you not?”
“Not unless you’re located inside my pants.” I give him a lopsided look as he bursts out in laughter. He tries to hold the serious look on his face, but loses control almost instantly. “I was headed to the bathroom, but you dragged my ass in here.” He slaps his hands against his thighs, leaning over breathless.
“Misunderstanding, never mind.” I can’t keep the blush from my face, and because I’m me, I try to escape. But trying to blow off Oliver has always been a little more difficult than it should be. Determined little fucker. Right when I step towards the door, he stops me with his body and his loud mouth.
“Wait!” Oliver barks while he grabs my elbow. His eyes search my face for a hint of what has me all riled up. We’ve gotten closer over the past few weeks and he’s freakishly intuitive. So before he can accuse me of anything, I eye his hand wrapped around my arm anxiously.
“Yah?” I turn to him, trying to curve my nervousness. He has to sense it, my unease and skittish behavior. He knows, he must smell Alex all over me.
“What are you doing to celebrate Thanksgiving?” Okay…definitely not what I expected him to say.
“Do people really celebrate Thanksgiving? Isn’t it just another reason to stuff our faces and gain ten pounds during the holidays?”
“What are you? A Thanksgiving scrooge?”
“And what are you? A damn pilgrim who saved Thanksgiving?”
“No, I’m the guy whose car is in the shop and is stuck in Vegas when all he really wants is to head back home to his family.”
Dang. Now I feel somewhat guilty for my smart comment. It’s not that I don’t like holidays, in fact I used to love every single one of them when my parents were still alive. And although I love that Rachel tries to replicate the holidays from our childhood, it’s just not the same. Something always seems to be missing.
“Okay, so if you can’t go home, what are you doing for Thanksgiving?” I never considered while he uprooted himself, for me no less, that he would essentially be on his own.
“I don’t know that’s why I was asking you. I figured I’d grab some food from one of the restaurants and didn’t know if you had plans or not.”
“Seriously, Oliver? Why didn’t you tell me? You can’t spend Thanksgiving alone.” The holidays may not be my favorite anymore, but I’d beat myself up if I found out one of my friends was alone.
“Well, since you aren’t into being festive, how about we skip the entire thing together. You can slave over a dinner for us and we can hole ourselves up in my apartment for the day and watch movies and stuff our faces. What do ya say?” You can see his eyes bursting with excitement as he pushes away from the copier machine, bouncing from one foot to another, anxious for my answer.
I smirk at his offer. Although tempting, Rachel would have my ass if I even considered it. “Nice try. But, what about you come with me to my sister’s house? She always makes too much of everything. I know she won’t mind.”
“Taking me home to meet the family, huh?” Oliver wags his eyebrows teasingly.
Leave it to Oliver to change a friendly gesture into something more profound. I roll my eyes and cross my arms over my chest. “Don’t push your luck, buddy.”
“Alright, alright. You gonna pick me up?”
I nod before turning and glancing at him over my shoulder. “I’ll pick you up tomorrow at three.”
Thursday, November 22, 2012
Knock! Knock! Knock!
With a bouquet of autumn flowers in one hand and a green bean casserole in the other, I sneak a glance to my right. Oliver stares at the door with a bottle of red wine clutched tightly with a large ne
rvous grin on his face. I think it’s pretty endearing that he’s actually anxious. Right now I wish I was Inspector Gadget and had Go-Go-Gadget arms so I could have an available limb to take a picture of this moment. I don’t know if I’ve ever seen him like this.
And it wouldn’t be our relationship if I passed up the chance to take a dig at him. Bumping into his arm, I whisper, “Are you okay? You look a little pale.”
“I’m not nervous,” he scoffs. He adjusts the collar of his shirt as if there’s an imaginary button constricting the air to his lungs. He scrunches his face and takes a large breath of air as he dismisses the notion.
I chuckle at the exact moment Bryan opens the door with his plastered smile. Except that when his eyes move from me to my dinner companion, his large smile fades into a glare. No greetings or salutations, nothing. No, instead Bryan folds his arms and straightens his spine, planting a grimace on his face.
Oliver doesn’t seem fazed as he reaches out his hand to greet him. “Hey, you must be Rachel’s boyfriend. It’s nice to meet you.”
Again, completely out of character Bryan goes from glaring at Oliver’s face to glaring at his extended hand. What is with him? He’s treating Oliver as if he has a communicable disease. I shove the casserole into Bryan’s stiff chest and lean in for a partial hug, hoping to break the awkward introduction. “Oliver, Bryan. Buttface, Oliver.”
“Buttface?” Oliver questions.
“She thinks she’s funny.” Bryan points to his dimpled chin.
I shove past him and into the house. I leave Oliver to awkwardly slide past the large scowling man, who I apparently don’t know anymore. Men.
Ah Fuck. My heart stops when I realize why Bryan has his panties in such a bunch. The downstairs guest bathroom opens, revealing a sexy as sin Alex standing in the doorway. Somewhat casual, Alex has dark blue jeans and a simple white button up shirt. His sleeves are rolled up to his elbows. His expression is playful and soft up until the moment he sees Oliver walking in. Then a murderous glare along with a look of disbelief is teeter tottered between the two of us. The tension in his forearms reveals the control he’s trying to exude as he stands staring in shock.
Awkwardly, all four of us remain in silence for what feels like eternity. My eyes move from Oliver, standing with a large taunting grin, to Alex who isn’t hiding an ounce of ill will toward Oliver, to Bryan who’s now holding back a laugh as he looks between the three of us holding my casserole. I hold back the temptation to punch him in the arm to wipe that smirk off his face. And just when I thought things couldn’t get any worse, Rachel comes skipping along from the kitchen squealing with delight.
“El…we have a surprise for yo-…” Her face drops as she joins the party happening in the front entry of her house. Yah su-fucking-prise Rachel! Coming closer to take the flowers from my hands, Rachel brings me in for a hug and whispers in my ear, “Uhhhh El, you didn’t tell me you were bringing someone with you.”
I whisper back through clenched teeth, “You didn’t tell me you were inviting anyone.” We both plaster fake smiles when we turn to the three men staring at us.
“Well,” Rachel yells, “The more the merrier.” She grabs Bryan by the elbow and hauls him to the kitchen. “Green beans…yummm….my favorite,” she again yells over her shoulder in an all too high pitched sarcastic tone. Rachel hates green beans and that is precisely why I bring them. “Be right back.” I can hear her whispering to Bryan as they both flee the room. I’m sure they’re tweaking their scheming ways. Yippee.
And then there were three. Fuck. My. Life.
I stand, once again in between Alex and Oliver, feeling more and more like that damn rope between the both of them. The tension is causing a burning sensation all over my skin. Oliver’s hands are tucked behind his back, smug grin on his face, while Alex’s hands fist at his side, his stone cold glare hitting the room like an ice brick. I almost feel like a third wheel and wonder if they even realize I’m still standing here.
“What is he doing here?” Alex breaks the silence, tilting his chin in Oliver’s direction. His jaw tenses as he waits for an answer. I know he’s asking me, but nothing comes out. My mouth continues to open and shut, but no words escape my lips. Again, trying for an answer I open my mouth, but Oliver decides to answer for me.
“Ely Bean here invited me.” Oliver glances in my direction glowing at me. I don’t know how he does it, but with the death stare Alex is giving him, Oliver seems cool as a cucumber. “Question is what are you doing here?”
Alex seems slightly bothered by the question as his eyes meet mine. I flash him an apologetic look hoping he realizes that I didn’t bring Oliver to intentionally hurt him. Damn, I didn’t even know he would be coming. If I had, I certainly would not have extended an invitation. He knows that right? Shit. How would he know? That’s all I’ve done in the past few weeks is hurt him. This is not good.
Bryan comes back just in the nick of time. Alex was just about to open his mouth and I can only imagine what was about to come out of it. Instead, Bryan returns chuckling, holding a glass of wine. “Anyone need a drink?”
I raise my hand and head to the kitchen leaving the three men alone. I’m sure Bryan can handle the two of them. Then again, Bryan being team Alex may decide to help him beat the crap out of Oliver. No, it’s Thanksgiving…they wouldn’t. At least, I hope not.
“What the hell, Rach?” I kick her lightly in the butt causing her to jump in surprise.
With wide angelic eyes, my sister looks at me as if I’m the pot calling the kettle black. “I should be asking you the same thing. I thought you were in love with Alex; and miserable. El, who is that?” She points towards the door with a large foolish grin on her face.
“That is Oliver. He’s a friend, who didn’t have a place to go for the holidays.”
“Then there’s no problem.”
“Ugh, there is a huge problem.” I grab a flute from the cabinet and pour myself some cabernet. I decide to keep the bottle close. Even though I rarely drink, this is gearing towards being a whole bottle kind of night. “Oliver and Alex aren’t exactly friends.” Rachel furrows her brows and breaks out in a sly grin, with her a-ha moment.
“I get it…Oliver’s trying to get a piece of the Ely pie.” I roll my eyes. “Does he realize that you’re in L.O.V.E. with Alex?”
“No, and I’d like to keep it that way. I’d like it if Alex didn’t realize I was in L.O.V.E. with him as well. I need some D.I.S.T.A.N.C.E. from him, Rach.”
“Wait,” she turns her attention to me and away from the pot of mashed potatoes she was stirring, “Why?”
I shake my head and make my way to the living room leaving my dear sister with more unanswered questions. It’s not like I want to keep anything from her, but now I’m more than a little terrified of what I would say if she asked the wrong question.
Just as I’m about to walk into the living room, I’m stopped in my tracks as I hear the deep stifled laughter coming from around the corner. I walk towards the noise to find Travis and Trevor sitting on the couch with a beer in hand. The dynamic duo has been sitting there the entire time getting their kicks off my emotional turmoil. Oh, they think this is funny, huh. Let me show them funny.
I place my hand on my hip as I twist my lips to the side, giving them my angry face. “What the hell are you two doing?”
“Happy Gobble-Gobble Day to you too, Ely!” Trevor rises and pulls me into a giant hug, squeezing the air out of my body as he twirls me around like a rag doll. His arms tighten around me as he dips his face to the crook of my neck and inhales. “Damn you smell good.”
“Alright, that’s enough.” Alex’s voice stops Trevor enough to lower me to the ground, but keeps his arms wrapped around me.
“Hey, I thought we were all sharing in some Ely love today.” Trevor takes a low blow at Alex right when Bryan and Oliver walk in behind him.
Releasing me, Trevor approaches Oliver and extends his hand. “Trevor…you must be the guy with a death wish.�
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Travis bellows behind him. “Stop being a douche and sit your ass down. Don’t mind him…he’s had a few too many.”
Oliver stands awkwardly off to the side, but holds his ground. “Well, if I’m about to meet my demise I guess I better wash my hands before that happens.”
Bryan points him to the same bathroom Alex exited moments ago. And as if on cue, I’m being pulled by my elbow toward the back guest bedroom, spilling some of my wine in the process.
“Alex, what the fuck?” I cringe away from him when I hear Trevor making kissing noises in the background before he closes and locks the door.
“You’re killing me, Elyssa.” Gripping my shoulders, he moves me to the far wall. With my back pressed against it, he encapsulates me with both of his hands. Leaning closer, Alex rests his forehead against mine as he attempts to reign in his anger. “You are literally ripping me open. Slowly. So, please,” he starts to raise his voice and then thinks better of it, “Please enlighten me as to what I did to deserve any of this shit?” The ache in his voice threatens to derail both of us, and with a last ditch effort to control his temper, his eyes close.
I set my glass of wine on the windowsill before reaching up to brush my fingers down his chiseled jaw line. My hands pause on the back of his neck as I enjoy this brief moment. I want nothing more than to bring his lips down to mine, but we’ve already complicated our situation more than we should have. “Alex, I’m not doing anything to you. I’m trying to get through this mess, just like you, and you’re making it nearly impossible.”
“I thought you needed space…time…whatever to figure your shit out, but then you bring that asshole to Thanksgiving dinner. Do you know how much strength it’s taking to keep my cool?” he shakes his head, clutching his eyes tightly together.
