by Amy Faye
"What's that?"
"Flowers for me, I guess," I said. Then I shrugged.
"They're very pretty."
"You want them?"
Nick raised his eyebrows and shrugged. "Just a smell, I guess." He leaned in and smelled them. There was the bareliest hint of a smile on his face, and then it was gone again. He wasn't pissed at me any more, anyways. More like he'd decided that he could cope with me for the time being. Which was an improvement.
"Do you guys have a vase or something, or no?"
"Yeah," he said. He ran a hand through his hair, which wasn't long, but wasn't kept trimmed, either. "Right here."
He reached up over the fridge and pulled his hand back with a tall glass vase, with a rounded coke-bottle shape. I handed Nick the flowers and he took them, filled the vase with water and then filled the water with flowers.
I turned the card open. One side had writing on it, so I checked the other side. The outside. Just my name.
"What's that?"
"Card, came with the flowers."
"Oh yeah?" He left out the part where he asked what the card said, because I think he felt like it was implied. I understood the implication without needing to be told.
"Uh…" My eyes scanned over it once, before I read it aloud. "'Reservation for two, Mario's Fine Italian Dining. 8:00.'"
"Late supper tonight, huh?"
"I guess," I agreed. I let out a long breath.
"Well, let me know how it goes," he said. Nick never liked me, not even before I started staying here. But he liked one thing more than he disliked me: gossip. If there was going to be gossip, then he was more than happy to be nice to me. So I didn't doubt that he was genuinely interested.
"Yeah," I agreed again. "You got it."
He would have liked to know more, I was sure. And I could have told him a little bit more. What I couldn't tell him was who it was from. He probably thought I knew, or suspected. I had two names in mind, and I wasn't sure if I was happy to be hearing from either.
The thought that it was Seth was intriguing, in a 'bad medicine' sort of way. But then again, there was another possibility, and it chilled me to the bone.
There had been two men in my life, before this. Well, two different men.
And while I wasn't sure about Seth, I knew I didn't want to hear from Kyle.
10
I'd never been to Mario's before. I've driven past it a thousand times, but I've never been inside. I feel under-dressed before I even manage to finish parking. All the cars in the lot are bright, shiny, and new. All of them except for mine, of course.
My car looked like crap. It's always looked like crap, and she's a tough little gal, but that doesn't mean that she's going to be competing for looks with a brand new shiny BMW, either.
So I was on edge parking, I was on edge walking up because the place looked nice, and I didn't. I didn't have any other clothing, though. So I still didn't know, not for sure, who was waiting for me, but I knew that I wasn't dressed for it.
For a moment I thought about leaving right then and there. I could do it, too. I could just walk away, and I could pretend that I never got the message, or that I didn't care.
But I did care. I couldn't lie about that, not to whoever it was, and not to myself. I had been trying to lie to myself for two weeks now, and it hadn't worked yet.
The only way to put this whole thing to bed, I knew, was to go in and talk to them. Talk to him, I knew. Then I could try to sort through what I felt, and in the end I'd be able to make a decision. But it would be on my terms, not his. And I still had a place to stay, even if Nick couldn't stand me being around, so I could walk away if that was what was called for.
I walked up to the host, tucked away off to the left, and I suddenly realized that I had no idea what I was supposed to tell him.
"Can I help you?"
"Uh, I don't know. I'm supposed to be meeting someone here? He told me that there was a reservation for eight?"
"Oh, okay. Yeah. Right this way."
The guy made a mark on a piece of paper and started walking me back, a pair of menus in his hands. He looked back with a reassuring smile, and for a moment I almost didn't feel like every eye on the place was on the under-dressed punk slut.
"First time here?"
"Is it that obvious?"
His smile widened a little bit. "Not at all. We ask everyone, unless we know them. So this is your first time?"
"Yes."
"Well, we're still waiting for your other party member, but here's your seat, bread sticks are complimentary, and a waiter will be with you in just a minute to take a drink order."
I took a seat where I could watch the door. Depending on who walked in, I would feel better or worse, and I wanted to know as soon as she could.
Then I waited. Waited and watched. And watched, and waited. I checked my watch. Five past. Then eight past. I started to wonder if maybe I wasn't being stood up. After a dozen red roses and a written invitation, being stood up would be a real treat.
Then there was a voice behind me.
"Waiting for someone?"
I turned, my heart thumping at a million miles a minute.
"Kyle?"
"It's good to see you," he says. He takes the seat opposite me and smiles. He's very handsome when he wants to be, and tonight he evidently wanted to be especially handsome indeed. The swelling in his nose was almost completely gone, but it was still a little bit crooked even after the doctors had taken a look at it.
"How have you been?"
I waited for him to respond. He made a sad face. "I missed you," he says. "Did you like my note? I had the woman at the flower shop do it. She's got nicer handwriting than I do."
It wasn't much of a note, but I liked the gesture, anyways. "It was sweet," I grant. "What are you doing here? I'm not going back."
"Babe, I'm clean. I haven't had a drink since you left, I've got a new job. I'm not slinging any more, okay? That stuff's behind me."
"And all the other girls?"
"What other girls? You're the only girl that matters in my life, baby, you know that."
I didn't know that. In fact, I specifically knew the opposite. But for better or worse, the truth was that I wanted to believe him, and I was ready to.
Another voice, though, caught my attention. Caught Kyle's attention, too. Well, it was less one voice, and more a whole herd of voices.
The loudest was "Sir, you can't go through there." The host sounded like he wanted nothing more than to not be there at that moment. Like, if he'd taken a pee break only ten seconds earlier, he'd have been much happier.
But the one that drew her attention, the one that drew Kyle's attention, was another. "I thought I told you," he said. He said it like he was talking directly at their table. His eyes were right on hers. Seth looked furious.
Kyle whirled and stood, and I could see the tension in his shoulders. He was thinking about going for a weapon, or something, and coiled up like a wild animal. Seth, on the other hand, was relaxed. His whole body was relaxed, in stark contrast to the fury that made itself plain on his face.
"You think you're such a big man," Kyle growled. "You think you're so important."
"Ten grand, I paid you," Seth said. He didn't bother to keep his voice low. The host was trying to get between them. Trying, I noticed, and failing. "Ten grand to walk away and stay away. You should have gotten the message."
"What's he talking about, Kyle?"
Kyle didn't answer her. He didn't even turn, like he hadn't heard. Then he reached behind him, his thumb slipping into his back pocket and starting to pull out a blade that flicked straight as he pulled.
He never got the opportunity to use it. Seth's hand wrapped around the back of his head and yanked it to one side, pulling Kyle off balance with one pull, and then pulled the opposite direction and down. In the same motion he twisted at the hip and brought his knee up, hard. Hard enough that I didn't know how anyone could get up from getting hit like that.
>
This time, Kyle didn't surprise me.
11
I stormed out. At that point, there wasn't much more option. We hadn't gotten any food, nor drinks, nor had we ordered any. So there was no monetary concern. And I wasn't going to stand there in the middle of a room while everyone actually did stare this time.
Maybe they were judging me. Maybe they weren't. But they were definitely thinking about it. Well, I don't want their pity, and I don't want their judgment. I want to get the hell out of here, and that's all I want. and I can arrange, at least, for that.
I take long steps, and I'm out the door before anyone could have stopped me if they wanted to try. But they didn't try. They were too busy looking down at Kyle, who was trying to push himself up at this point, but failing. His hands kept slipping out from under him, his elbows buckling, and his shoulders sagging, and I walked right past him.
This whole thing had been a mistake, and I should have known better. I did know better. I have learned, over and over again, that there are times when there's nothing to be done but to accept that things are just going to be hard for you for a while. I knew that, and yet I pretended that I couldn't move on until I reconciled everything.
A voice calls out behind me. "Meg!"
I ignore the voice. Seth can go to hell. Kyle can go to hell. I'm going to learn my lessons this time.
Seth appears at my side. He looks angry, but he at least tries to keep that anger away from me.
"Have you been okay?"
No, I haven't been okay, I think. But I keep my thoughts to myself.
"He didn't do anything to you, did he?"
"No," I answer. I open the car door and start to slip inside. He lets me. Then I try to close it and he fits his hip in, blocking the path of the door from closing.
"Talk to me, God damn it."
I look up at him, furious. "What's there to talk about?"
"Look, you wanted your space, and I gave it to you."
"Good for you. You want a gold star?"
"But then he comes along, and you just go right back to him, huh? That's how it works now?"
I thought about telling him that I hadn't gone back to Kyle. He'd invited me to a meal, and I'd given this mystery-person the time of day. When it turned out to be Kyle, I didn't storm off in disgust, but I wasn't going to take him back.
I bit that response back, though. "What's the problem? You think you get to tell me what I can and can't do? Is that how this relationship is going to work now? I don't even know you."
"Fine. But why him? If not me, then why him?"
The truth is that she'd have accepted either. But she's not going to tell him that, because he's apparently gotten this martyr complex into his head, and she's not about to argue with him about it.
"Leave me alone, Seth," I say. My teeth press together. "You wanted me to walk away from him? Fine. I'm walking away. Leave me be."
He leaned down. There's hot anger in his eyes, anger that isn't just for Kyle any more.
"I don't see why you're acting…"
I cut his words off with my fist. It hit him square in the nose and very possibly hurt me more than it hurt him. He stumbled back, more startled than hurt, and looked at me.
Then he looked confused. Like he didn't understand what just happened, or why, or how. I didn't bother to explain it to him. I just closed my door and drove away. For a moment I thought I was going to make it out of there without responding to him. He made no effort to stop me.
The guilt, though, hit me all at once. Like a ton of bricks that fell right down on my head. I sprawled the car across three empty parking spots, closed my eyes, and tried to take deep breaths. Calming breaths. Breaths that would make me think rationally about all of this. Because I could feel where this was going, and it wasn't going to any place rational and reasonable and smart.
The truth was that I had been taking the risk that Kyle would show up, in the hopes that it would be Seth. That he would know that I wanted him around. I knew better. I know that people don't change, and if they do change, then it's not to be better for me. It's only ever for the worse.
But Seth made me want to believe him, in a way that Kyle never had. He made me think that maybe I'd gotten a bad impression, and that I'd made a hasty decision in telling him to fuck off.
I wanted all that to be true, and I wanted him to come along and just tell me those magic words. That he cared about me, and he wanted to make sure that I didn't get the wrong impression, and to give me the right impression.
What I wanted from him was to chase me. He didn't. He hadn't even tried, as far as I could tell. So I went because I hoped, against all hope, that he had surprised me. That he'd given me a positive surprise, unlike almost every other man in my life.
But he hadn't. In fact, he'd done his best to make absolutely certain that nobody ran after me. I don't know how I'm supposed to feel about that, or about the fact that he knew within moments that Kyle was in that restaurant.
There aren't many ways he could have known. But he knew, and that meant that he was trying to keep us apart. I'd told him that was what he wanted, and he worked to give it to me.
I put the car into reverse and start backing up to where Seth is slowly wandering down the row of cars. If only he'd had the sense in his head to know what I actually wanted, rather than what I'd asked for.
12
I found myself back in Seth's room before I knew what I was doing, and I ought to have regretted it. I knew that it was stupid, wrong, and that I shouldn't have given him that much. Not so soon after giving him an ounce of forgiveness. He's bound to get the wrong idea. Hell, I'm bound to get the wrong idea.
But he is so damned convincing, and I wanted to let myself be convinced, even if I should have known better. And I should have. But oh, God, did I want to make the mistake, and here I am, his strong arms wrapped around me, my legs wrapped around his waist before we've even gotten around to taking our clothes off.
I want to feel his skin against mine, to feel him moving inside me, to be his again. To be taken by him. Seth knows all this. He knows without me telling him, and that's part of what draws me to him.
But I tell him anyways. "Oh God, I needed this."
He responds by taking my throat in his mouth and kissing roughly. Then he bites down hard, and I let out a moan in surprise. A pleasant surprise.
His hips rock forward, and something very hard and very big presses against my mound. Teasing me. Tantalizing me. He does it again and I can feel my breath quickening.
"You like that?"
"Fuck," I answer. I don't know what to say. It's not enough, but it's a step in the right direction. "Yes."
His body felt unspeakably good against mine. His arms dropped lower, cupping my ass and squeezing. Like I was just some kind of whore that he could take as he pleased. And I shivered because I knew, deep down, that maybe I was. And maybe I liked it.
When his hand comes back up, his fingers find the hem of my shirt and take it with them, up and over my head. It's lost an instant later in a heap on the floor. His shirt joined it a moment later, and then a moment after that, my bra made the top of the pile.
His head dipped even as his hips moved up again and rocked pleasantly against my groin again, and took one hardening nipple between his lips. Then between his teeth. He squeezed and pulled, and my breath caught in my throat. I squeezed my eyes together and let out a long, low, throaty moan.
"That's it. Like that."
My fingers dug into his hair. He was more than satisfied, though, with my breasts. He stood up underneath me, his hands cupping under my ass and holding me up, and then turned and dropped my weight hard onto the couch. I bounced a little bit off the cushion and in that instant of uncertainty he was grabbing me again.
This time he didn't waste his time with kisses or caresses. He found the button on my jeans and pulled it open roughly and then put a hand down on my belly to stop any resistance. The other hand found my zipper, pulled down, and then he
caught a fold of my jeans, around my knees, and pulled down. The jeans protested for a moment before going where he pulled them.
Then he dipped down and started to use his mouth on me. The movements weren't intended for my pleasure. He moved his tongue quickly and sharply, and like trying to paint a wall in a hurry. Every little movement sent an electric pleasure down my spine, though, and before I could stop him I was already starting to tense up from pleasure.
He didn't waste time taking his own pants off. He undid the button of his trousers and worked the zipper quickly. He was inside me in a single rough thrust. I could feel a little orgasm start to blossom in me with just that one; the tension in my gut continued to build, though, as he moved more.
I needed this. I'd missed it every night. Every night that I could hear my boss trying to be quiet about his 'private time' with his pocket twink. I wasn't being quiet, though.
"God, fuck me," I called out. Almost shouted. He did exactly that, moving his hips harder, harder.
"You're so fucking tight," he managed through gritted teeth. He took a grip on one of my arms and used it like a leash, pulling me onto him to match his thrusts.
"Hit me," I said. "Slap me. Hurt me. Fuck. I'm so fucking close."
There was a loud pop, and my head rocked to one side. I didn't feel the pain until a second later, blossoming out until it melded with the feeling of his cock ramming into me. Exactly the stimulation I needed. I let out a moan and then he moved harder still, fucking me deeper. Fucking me into oblivion, it felt like.
I don't remember closing my eyes, but I remember my vision being completely blank. Sightless. I could hear my own voice, timed to the slap of flesh on flesh. I could hear his voice, too. "You like that, don't you?"
I tried to tell him that I did, but it came out as a long, wordless, throaty moan. Then he gave me exactly what I wanted. Exactly what I needed. I felt him twitch inside me and then I felt the warmth of his seed spreading through my stomach.
He pulled out of me as the world started to come back into focus around me. My breaths came hard and fast, sweat matting my hair to my head. I tried to focus on anything in particular, but my eyes felt like they'd been knocked loose and now were rolling around the room.
