Heartache

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Heartache Page 6

by Danielle Allen


  As soon as I remembered, my house phone rang loudly.

  “Hello?” I croaked into the phone roughly after I managed to pull my body across the bed to answer it. Clearing my throat, I repeated myself, “Hello?”

  “It’s about damn time,” Bianca snapped. “I’ve been calling you all morning. Are you okay?”

  “Yeah. My body feels like I’ve been hit by a train, but I’m okay.”

  She laughed and I smiled despite myself.

  “I’m not surprised,” she responded through her laughter. “After everyone left, you and Easy kept drinking and decided to do one of those insane workouts to sweat out the alcohol. I’m surprised you’re not sick. I’ll be over in less than an hour so we can go get your car, okay?”

  I grumbled and put my forearm over my face. “Oh God… See, this is why I don’t get drunk. Thanks, B. I’ll see you when you get here.”

  Hanging up the phone, I pushed the covers off of me and planted my bare feet on the floor. Sitting up, I could feel the soreness in my abdomen and my legs especially. I couldn’t have gone running if I wanted to.

  Heading to the bathroom for a shower, I stepped over my tuxedo. Opening the bathroom door, I stopped in my tracks as soon as my feet hit the cold tile. My heart drummed in my chest as I made out the scrawled cursive lettering written in red lipstick.

  Roman,

  You have no idea. But you will. Check your email.

  XO

  Me

  “What? Me? Who the hell is that?” I whispered incredulously as I looked around. The hair on the back of my neck stood up as I reread the creepy ass message in the blood red lipstick on my bathroom mirror.

  Immediately abandoning my plan to take a shower, I picked up a pair of basketball shorts from my laundry pile and headed across the hall into my office. Sitting in the leather computer chair, I logged into my email account.

  Out of the thirty-seven unanswered emails, I saw a new message with the words ‘The One’ in the subject line. Nerves gripped me, causing me to clench my already sore muscles. I opened it anyway.

  *****

  To: Roman

  From: xoxoMExoxo

  Subject: The One

  Roman

  I’d suspected, but I didn’t realize until tonight that we belong together. The way you looked in that tux had my body on edge all night. I was wet the moment I laid eyes on you. I watched you move and you were completely in your element. I was captivated by you. I was turned on by you. We brushed against each other once and I could smell your cologne. You may not remember or may not have even noticed the contact. But my body reacted. My panties were soaked and the damp cotton kept stimulating my clit. I watched your square jaw move as you spoke and I imagined you saying dirty things to me. Your tongue moved easily over your sexy, full lips and I imagined your lips and tongue all over my body. I watched your hands as they pointed and signaled and I imagined your hands all over me. But it wasn’t just how sexy you are that did it for me tonight. I’ve never felt closer to anyone than I did when I looked at your paintings. I didn’t think anyone would ever understand the loneliness, the pain, and the hurt like I do. I put on a good front, but no one would ever guess that I have so much inner turmoil. And I didn’t think anyone would ever get that. But one look at your work and I knew you just got it. The knowledge that you, this incredibly sexy man, have some dark, twisty secret that ate at you was overwhelming. Everything about last night was too much and I gave in. I had to go to one of the stalls in the restroom and play with myself, just to take the edge off. Fantasizing about you, I came harder than ever. I wrote that note on your mirror to get your attention. Now that I have it, I’ll be in touch.

  XO

  Me

  *****

  Who could this possibly be from? I wondered as I reread the email several times, trying to make sense of it. I tried to remember who was at the party, but bits and pieces of the night were still a blur.

  “Shit!” I muttered under my breath as the doorbell startled me. I hadn’t realized how much time had passed.

  Jogging down the stairs and to the front door, I opened the door without looking. Expecting Bianca, I did a double take and jolted back, ready to kick the intruder down my front steps when I saw that it wasn’t her.

  “Sir…” the man in the brown delivery uniform said slowly. “I need you to sign for this.”

  Taking a deep breath to shake off the nerves, I signed for my package and thanked him. Closing the door behind me, I took my package to the kitchen and dropped it on the table. Estimating that I had time to take a shower before Bianca arrived, I headed to the steps. I had just put my foot on the bottom step when the doorbell rang again. Having just learned my lesson, I peeked to see who was on the other side.

  With her hair hanging wild and free, framing her face, the sun behind Bianca gave her skin a bronze glow. She rarely wore makeup, but when she did, it meant she was going somewhere special. And it looked like she had on makeup.

  Dark sunglasses covered her eyes, but her full lips were covered in something shiny. I gave her body a quick onceover before opening the door a fraction of an inch.

  “Open the damn door!” She greeted me with a smile.

  Laughing, I opened the door wider so she could enter. As she passed, I looked at the way her hips and ass filled out her jeans. As she turned, I averted my eyes quickly.

  “Let me help you with that,” I said, helping her out of her leather jacket.

  Inexplicably, it felt weird to have my eyes linger on Bianca for as long as they did. I appreciated beautiful things and loved the softness and curves of a woman’s body, but I wasn’t moved on an artistic level when my eyes roamed over her ass. I was moved on a ‘I should’ve put on boxers’ level.

  I think I’m still a little drunk, I reasoned, trying to explain to myself why my dick started to harden at the sight of her ass. And I’m probably still thinking about what we said at the showcase.

  Bianca and I would always flirt and would usually trade a few sexual innuendos, but last night it was different. We’d never crossed a line before, but even in my slightly hungover state, I knew we’d crossed that line last night.

  I firmly tugged the other sleeve off of her arm, trying not to touch her too much.

  I probably just need a cold shower. And honestly, it’s probably just the fact that I haven’t had sex in two months. I’m just horny.

  “Thanks.” She laughed, sliding her sunglasses to the top of her head. “I love this jacket, but it’s a bitch to get off sometimes.” She paused, looking me up and down. “Why are you opening the door naked?”

  Smiling at how long her eyes roamed over my body, I felt a little less guilty about the amount of time my eyes raked hers. “I’m about to get in the shower. Give me a few minutes.”

  “That’s cool. I need to call my bank anyway.” She checked the small watch around her wrist. “But hurry!”

  “Don’t rush me.”

  “Don’t think I won’t leave you.”

  “I would make a smart ass comment, but I need my car.”

  Even as she walked into the living room, her laugh followed me as I took the stairs two at a time and rushed into my bedroom. Stripping quickly, I entered the bathroom and stopped abruptly again.

  This shit is crazy, I thought, eyeing the message on the mirror.

  Taking a paper towel, I managed to make the message even creepier by smearing the left side of it. The glass cleaner was downstairs so I stopped making it worse and got in the shower. I couldn’t stop thinking about who could’ve left that message and sent that email.

  I need to find out who was both at the showcase and at the party. It has to be someone fucking with me. I’ve known Easy and Malik long enough to know their handwriting. And I’ve had B grade enough papers for me that I’d know her handwriting in a lineup. But, that doesn’t mean they didn’t find someone to mess with me, I considered, lathering my body. Even if I could see them pulling off the note on the mirror, that email was
something different. They wouldn’t have and couldn’t have executed that. That email was…

  My thought trailed off as I tried to think of a word to describe that email. Rinsing the soap off of my body, I lathered up again. As soon as the soapy washcloth grazed my dick, it hardened, and specific parts of the email came rushing back to me.

  My panties were soaked.

  Placing the washcloth over the shower rod and with the hot water beating against my back, I wrapped my hand around my dick and it throbbed between my fingers. I took a deep breath and tried to calm myself down.

  The damp cotton kept stimulating my clit.

  As a sigh escaped me, I realized how much I’d been depriving myself. I realized how much I needed a release. I’d been so focused on finishing the series of paintings for the showcase, I hadn’t taken care of my most basic needs. It had been entirely too long since the last time I had sex. Squeezing gently, I ran my hand down the length of my dick. I paused, running my thumb across the sensitive head.

  I gave in.

  I gave in and started slowly stroking myself. Groaning as the water increased the slickness, I closed my eyes. With faster, more determined strokes, I fell into a rhythm that would surely get me off quickly.

  Play with myself.

  The thought of this woman getting herself off in a bathroom stall because of a brief encounter with me was intoxicating. I tried to imagine what the woman looked like before I heard a thud downstairs and my mind immediately flooded with images of Bianca.

  Fantasizing about you.

  Even though I had never thought about her sexually before, thinking about B’s perfectly rounded ass and melon sized breasts made me buck against my hand, sending me over the edge.

  I came harder than ever.

  Letting out a low, guttural grunt, I ejaculated all over the bottom of the shower. I shuddered with the intensity of the orgasm. Telling myself I only came that hard because I hadn’t gotten off in months, I finished washing my body and stepped out of the steamy bathroom.

  Drying off quickly, my mind was racing. I was pissed that my personal space had been violated. I was irritated that I couldn’t remember everyone at the party. I was stressed because I’d accidentally visualized my best friend and her perfect ass as I masturbated. Above all, I was curious about the woman behind the messages.

  Pulling on a pair a jeans and a hunter green shirt, I heard a noise outside my door and I froze. Even though I knew Bianca was in the house, the red lipstick note, the subsequent email, and my performance in the shower had me on edge. Feeling guilty, I shook my head.

  I just got off by thinking about a woman who could be a potential stalker and then my best friend, I thought as I ran my hand down my face. This is why I shouldn’t drink anymore.

  “You even look guilty,” I muttered under my breath as I glanced at myself in the mirror.

  “B,” I called out. My voice was lower than I intended as I eased to the door, opening it carefully. The hallway was empty. Knowing I’d heard a noise, I stepped out and looked around. Wild, curly hair across the hall caught my attention first. My email account with the disturbing, yet erotic email open was the second thing that caught my attention.

  “B,” I repeated loudly, startling her. Her shoulders jumped quickly and her hair bounced as she swung her head around to look at me. Pulling out her earbuds, her face flushed.

  “Ro, you scared the shit out of me!” Turning back toward the computer, she opened another internet browser window and typed in her bank’s web address.

  I stared at the back of her head. I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t know how much she had read. I didn’t know how long she had been upstairs. The silence, thick with tension, stretched between us.

  “I’m sorry,” she started, taking a deep breath before turning the chair around to face me again. “I didn’t mean to read it.”

  I sighed, running my hands down my face and closing my eyes. “Bianca…” I let her name drag out.

  “I know. I’m sorry. You know I would never invade your space or your privacy like that.”

  I opened my eyes and she was looking at me. I’d never seen the contrite look that pulled on her beautiful features. Her almond shaped eyes were downcast. Her full lips were downturned. I immediately felt bad.

  She looked down into her lap before glancing back up at me. “I would be upset if you read an email like that from Levi or something. So I get it.”

  I kept my thoughts to myself, but I felt myself clenching my jaw at the mention of her asshole ex-boyfriend. Even though they weren’t serious, she’d caught him in a series of lies and ended it. I had no doubt that Bianca could handle herself, but I felt oddly protective of her.

  “No, I shouldn’t have left my email up. Don’t worry about it.” I leaned against the wall. “And anyway, Levi’s dumb ass couldn’t figure out how to write an email if he wanted to.”

  Bianca made a noise that was part giggle, part groan. “Oh come on! He wasn’t dumb.”

  “He was dumb enough to let you get away.”

  She smiled and I could tell my words caught her off guard. Pausing momentarily, she asked, “So who’s the girl?”

  I cleared my throat. “I don’t know exactly.”

  Bianca gawked at me, her eyes opened wide. “What?” She spun around in her seat and clicked on my still opened email account. “She said you two belong together. Are you telling me that you don’t know who this is?”

  I shook my head even though she wasn’t looking at me. “Not a clue.”

  “Wow, Roman. I know how women act around you, but seriously…this is freaky. What note on the mirror is she talking about?”

  I walked over to the computer and logged out of my email account. “Follow me.”

  Following behind me, we walked into my bedroom. Once we got to the doorway of the bathroom, I stepped back so she could enter.

  “Holy shit,” Bianca breathed. She started pacing back and forth in the middle of my bedroom.

  “I know.”

  “We have to call the police. This psycho was in your house. In your room!”

  “The thing is, she was invited. It had to be someone who was at the party last night.”

  “Did you talk to Easy or Malik about it?” Bianca said, her face etched in worry.

  “No, not yet. Easy invited everyone so even though he was drunk, he should know everyone at the party,” I reasoned, watching her walk in figure eights.

  “I guess.” She didn’t look convinced, but she stopped in her tracks. Gesturing to the bathroom with her head, she added, “You have to admit, that woman is a little fucked up.”

  After beating off in the shower to ‘that woman,’ I can’t really judge, I thought ruefully as I nodded, but kept quiet.

  “I wonder who she could be. Or how she got in your room.” Looking at her watch, she exclaimed, “Oh! We have to go.”

  Following behind Bianca as we exited my bedroom, I asked, “How did I get to my room last night? I don’t remember any of that.” I grabbed my paperwork from my office on our way downstairs.

  “After the last person left, Malik and I helped you up the stairs and got you into your room. You fell across the bed in your tux. Did you notice that it wasn’t messy downstairs?” She pointed out on our way out of the front door. “Well, it’s because Malik and I cleaned up. Although he was drinking, he wasn’t drunk like you and Easy. So after we put you in your room, we cleaned up, locked everything down then I took Easy home and Coury took Malik home.”

  “Who’s Coury?” I asked as we walked to Bianca’s car. Honing in on the unfamiliar name, I wondered if this Coury could know something about the mysterious ‘me’ that wrote the email.

  “I think she works with Malik. She wasn’t at the party, but she was at the showcase. She came to pick him up.” Bianca stopped before opening the driver’s side door and looked at me, waiting for recognition. “She showed up right before we helped you upstairs. You met her. Really cute. Long braids. Dimples.”


  I had no idea who she was talking about. “Oh, ok,” I mumbled as I opened the passenger side door and climbed into the car. Then all of a sudden it hit me. “Oh! Malik’s girlfriend.”

  “It would seem so. They were all over each other.”

  “Why didn’t you just say Courtney?”

  Bianca made a face. “I met her for the first time last night and she said for me to call her Coury. Coury,” she seemed to taste the name on her tongue. “I think it’s cute.”

  “You would,” I joked. “Anyway, when you brought me upstairs, you didn’t notice anything?”

  “No. I was tired and I didn’t go into your bathroom.” She gave me a look after she started her car. “And no, for the record, it wasn’t me.”

  I looked at her. Her brown eyes dared me to contradict her. “I never thought it was you,” I assured her.

  “Okay, good.” She pulled off and we headed to Art House. “Now let’s seriously try to figure out who this could be. After seeing how that one girl reacted at that sandwich shop, I can’t even imagine what this woman will do.”

  I groaned. “Allie was out of line.”

  “I haven’t been back to eat there since.”

  “She was…” My words trailed off as a memory came flooding back. I turned in my seat and stared at Bianca’s profile. “She was there! Last night. She was at the showcase and at the party.”

  “Oh my God! I didn’t even realize.” She punched me in the shoulder as she slowed to a stop. “You should’ve told me. That bitch is crazy and I should’ve been watching my back!”

  “Ouch!” I laughed, rubbing my shoulder dramatically. “I only saw her for a second and it was as she was leaving. I don’t remember even talking to her. But she was definitely there and I don’t know for how long.” My stomach rumbled furiously. “I’m starving. You want to grab a quick bite to eat?”

  “I can’t. I have plans.” She glanced over at me. “I have a date.”

  “Oh,” I said, my eyebrows shooting up. She’d never hesitated to tell me about a date before now. “That’s cool.”

 

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