by Tia Siren
“Are you sure?” he said.
As disappointment darkened his brown eyes, I kissed him on the cheek.
“Yeah. I had the greatest time, really I did. I always sleep best at my own place and going in to work together doesn’t seem like the best idea right now.”
“You don’t want to upset Mark,” Jake concluded with a frown.
I sighed.
“I don’t want any more drama like there has been, okay? Jake, I had the best time with you—and I really, really like you. Let’s not ruin the night with this.”
Jake paused, then nodded, kissing me on the cheek.
“You’re right, of course. I had a great time too. Sleep well, Brooke.”
“See you tomorrow,” I said with a wave.
Then I turned and set out to my apartment. As I got on the elevator, it struck me how natural things had seemed. Sleeping with one of my bosses. Jake was just so easy to talk to and so earnest. He gave me butterflies all over. I touched my lips, remembering how sensually he’d kissed me.
It was only once I was tucked into bed, seconds away from sleep, that a thought occurred to me. I had no idea who I was excited to see tomorrow.
Chapter 15
Mark
His black Lamborghini pulled into the parking lot at the same time as I did. In the parking spot directly across from mine, no less. Jake practically bounded out of the car with a stupid smile on his face. My stomach dropped as I wondered about the cause.
“You look awfully chipper today,” I said, sarcastically.
He frowned, then gave me his own sarcastic smile.
“Yeah, probably because I had a really great night last night.”
“Oh yeah?” I challenged him, “Found some new Jenna Haze video to jerk off to?”
“Nope,” he said, smiling sanguinely back, “Someone even better—real and way hotter. Someone you know, actually.”
Now, I felt sick.
“No way—you didn’t actually f—”
“I did.”
I stood there for a minute, speechless. An image of Brooke and Jake flashed through my mind. Her shapely legs wrapped around him, her full breasts bouncing as he thrust into her—the pussy I’d been in as well. Rage seethed through me.
“What’s wrong? You’re the one who told me to,” Jake pointed out.
Now there was less of an irritable edge to his voice, more concern.
“Nothing’s wrong,” I answered automatically through grit teeth.
That didn’t sound believable even to myself.
“Oh yeah?” Jake said, “Why don’t you tell that to your face?”
At this, the rage bubbling in my gut burst forth. I shoved Jake.
“You know what, bro? Fuck you. Your whole bit about bros before hos—I see how that turned out, eh?”
Jake gaped at me, shocked, before shoving me back.
“No—fuck you, Mark. You’re the one who told me to fuck Brooke. Now you’re just butt hurt that I got one of the girls that you didn’t even truly like anyway.”
“What the hell, guys?”
At the edge of the parking lot, was Brooke. She was wearing a hot little dress—and a very pissed-off expression.
“Please tell me that you two aren’t doing what it looks like you’re doing.”
“I told him what happened between us,” Jake said, “And I won’t apologize for it. He was the one who told me to.”
Now both eyes went to me.
“And?” Brooke said.
Irritation flashed through me.
“And—I don’t know—it’s a bit weird, okay? Having my best friend sleep with the last girl I did. Frankly, I’m as surprised by my reaction as you guys are, okay? So just lay off.”
I stormed off into the building. As I did, I couldn’t resist a look behind me. Jake and Brooke were still in the parking lot, talking. About me? Were they making plans to meet up tonight already?
I clenched and unclenched my fist. Be cool, Mark. This was just new for me, that’s all. It wasn’t like I actually had feelings for Brooke or anything.
One foot inside the waiting room, and Deidre pounced on me.
“Mark, I’m really sorry.”
Seconds later, I was met with just what she was sorry for. Packed—that’s what the waiting room was. Literally stuffed from one side to the other with patients and patients-to-be.
I opened my mouth, then closed it, remembering how Brooke had begged me to take it easy on Deidre.
“Just send the first one in, I’ll be in Consultation Room A,” I told her.
“Shouldn’t we wait until Jake gets here?” she asked, “You two normally do consultations together.”
“No,” I told her.
And that was how, for the next few hours, I successfully avoided facing Mark or Brooke. One after another of the literal army that Deidre had somehow scheduled, I got through. Botox, breast augmentation, rhinoplasty, lip augmentation, more Botox—I ran through them like the machine I felt like. It was invigorating, and consuming. It felt good. The faster I ran through the patients, easily and effectively answering their questions and concerns, the less headspace I had to think about the whole Brooke situation.
Then noon hit. My stomach roared at me that it was lunchtime—or else. On my way out, I ran into Brooke.
“Hey,” I said, “you got the same bright idea as me? Oysters at Olly’s?”
She grinned. Her lips were a different color today—a deep burgundy. It set off her green eyes beautifully. Had she done that for me—or Jake?
“Kinda,” she was saying, “Jake invited me to Olly’s for some chicken marinara.”
And just like that, the eager smile was wiped right off my face.
“You’ll come, right?” Brooke said, her eyes going wary.
Just then Jake came up, the smile on his face rapidly disappearing at the sight of me.
“Mark’s going to join us,” Brooke told him, happily.
“No, actually I’m not,” I said, “Not really feeling fish. Sorry. See you guys later!”
And just like that, I walked away. Better that I didn’t catch the disappointed look on Brooke’s face. I only stopped hurrying once I was safely in the elevator—and away from them.
As I made my way out of the building, my mind started mulling over all that had happened in the past few hours. What was going on with me? Jake was right—I had told him to go ahead and fuck Brooke. But the Mark then and the Mark now seemed like two different people entirely. Mark then hadn’t figured that Jake would actually do it. More than that, he hadn’t figured he would’ve actually cared. And yet, I did, didn’t I?
I picked up a burger at McDonald’s and kept on walking, letting my legs take me where they would. Only several minutes later, once I’d reached the black stone gate, did I realize where I was. Oh, Grandma. Still, I didn’t stop myself now—I’d come this far, might as well go the rest of the way.
As soon as I was inside, I padded through the grass, threaded through the tombstones, many which were flat and nearly illegible. Maybe it was just me—or the odd time—but the cemetery seemed even calmer than usual.
Odd. How the sun was so bright and cheerful in the baby blue sky, resting amidst huge pillows of clouds. Birds were chirping eagerly. The grass was soft and cushy under my feet. And yet, actually reaching my grandmother’s tombstone was the last thing I wanted to do, for some reason. Hers was right next to the willow tree. I’d requested that—and the small modest size of the tombstone. I’d tried to get grandma to agree to a crypt, but she wouldn’t hear of it.
“I was just a nice hometown lady in my life, why would I pretend to be any different in death?” she’d declared, with a stoic nod of her boney chin.
Now I was stopped in front of her tombstone. And I didn’t have the slightest idea why. True, I did often come here during hard times—for guidance maybe. Like when Jake had been struggling about his ex. Jake. Brooke.
What the hell was going on with me?
The answe
r was somewhere between my grandma, my crack-head mom, and my absent dad. And Brooke, maybe. I scanned my mind for all the women I’d been with: the white ones, black ones, Asian ones; the thin ones and curvier ones, the tall ones and short ones. I tried to remember the kind and bitchy ones, the fun and boring ones, the smart ones, and yet, all these different women were all blurred now into one woman—who was fun but predictable, pretty but forgettable. Sure, before I’d had them I was driven by a single-minded thirst to conquer, but after? They were filed in with the rest—a nice experience, but one that didn’t necessarily have to be repeated. So why hadn’t the same thing happened with Brooke?
My gaze was boring into the grey granite of the tombstone. Marilyn Sawyer.
Then, I turned on my heel and left. This was ridiculous. The only reason I hadn’t gotten over Brooke yet was because my best friend had fucked her—and I hadn’t fucked anyone else. That was the answer. It had to be.
Back at the office, Jake and Brooke were already dealing with an operation. I continued rapidly dealing with the influx of customers here for a preliminary or follow-up consultation. By 3:45 p.m., I’d cleared out the whole group. Brooke and Jake were still dealing with the operation, and probably would be for a few more minutes. So, giving Deidre a casual nod, as if my superhuman consultation skills hadn’t saved the day, I left.
One foot into the Marble Room, and I was reminded of Brooke and Jake. So, the first thing I did when I sat down, was order a pitcher of beer.
I drank only one glass at first, doing a 360 around the room, eyeing the other patrons. No matter what bullshit people spewed about ‘quality me time,’ there was something about sitting in a bar alone that was distinctly depressing. If Jake were here, we probably would have toasted to about five different things already, as well as played eye spy. It was perfect for having fun—and meeting girls, that is.
Speaking of, there was a nice tan brunette further down the bar eyeing me. I smiled at her. She smiled at me. She had big tits and a very white-toothed smile.
I ambled over beside her.
“Please tell me that you like beer,” I said.
She grinned.
“I might.”
“Okay,” I said, “Because the thing is—my normal drinking buddy and I are having a bit of a fight. And finishing this pitcher by myself would be too depressing for words. You wouldn’t condemn me to such a fate, would you?”
She laughed.
“I guess I could help.”
I slung my arm around her and patted her shoulder.
“My hero.”
Once the pitcher was halfway done, and the conversation had started to grow stale, I threw in the bait.
“So, at work the other day, there was this crazy operation. A kid needed stitches in his cheek—a dog bite. Looked like his face might end up being really messed up, but I managed to figure out a way that would work, and in the end managed to sew him up pretty good.”
The girl’s big brown eyes took me in, as she mentally added two and two together.
“You’re a surgeon?” she asked.
I grinned at her.
“Gotcha.”
Five minutes later, I was repeating history. We were giggling and rushing into the same bathroom as last time.
This girl’s lips were bigger but slower. They seemed to react only half-heartedly to my heated kisses. But when I grabbed her ass—I knew I’d hit gold. She let out a low groan, pawing at my chest.
I pressed her to the wall, unzipping her zipper crop-top shirt. Damn, did she have nice tits—big, full and bouncy, almost as nice as… I’m not thinking about that.
Pausing, I glanced in the mirror. I was actually wearing the same shirt as last time—the same blue button-up as my last bathroom-fuck. Really, this wasn’t exciting at all, this wasn’t even new. I was just repeating the past—trying to get there. But this wasn’t like it had been then, and I certainly didn’t feel the way I did then. I didn’t want this hot half-naked tan brunette at all—I wanted Brooke. And I wanted Jake, my drinking buddy, my friend.
This—as exciting as it had been for a moment—didn’t change anything. I drew back and away.
“Sorry, I can’t.”
And then I left, because there was no use pretending anymore.
Chapter 16
Brooke
I woke up with a pounding headache. Rolling to one side of my pillow reminded me of Jake, how he’d stroked me so tenderly. Rolling to the other side of my pillow reminded me of Mark, how he’d fucked me half-senseless. I sat up straight in bed. Clearly, I wasn’t going to be getting any more sleep.
Chowing down a cream-cheese bagel and gulping down tea didn’t help. The bagel just reminded me of a patient from Friday. We’d been working on a little boy, with a navy-blue shirt covered in lime green bagels, for some reason. Despite our easy joking and Jake’s deferential manner, as Jake and I had worked together, there had been something missing. Mark. Afterwards, the little boy had smiled his missing-toothed smile at us, and I’d felt like I was floating for hours afterwards. That was why I’d applied for this position in the first place. To help kids like I’d been.
But now? I glanced at my phone and sighed. Two ‘Hey how’s it going’ texts, from two men I couldn’t respond to. From the two men whose friendship I was ruining.
I started dialing Karly’s number, but then thought better of it. What was I going to report to her? How doing what I’d thought would help things had only made them even worse? Now, we’d gone from an environment that was tense and awkward, to one that was outright hostile.
I could still picture it. Mark shoving Jake, his handsome face contorted in rage. Then, Jake shoving Mark back, his tan hands pressed into the other man’s chest. Things had actually escalated to physical violence yesterday. I needed to make this right.
Before I could think better of it, I sent a, ‘We’re going to dinner… all three of us.’ text to both of them. Then, I walked over to the bathroom and started up the shower. After all, I had to get ready for my date tonight.
Jake was there waiting when I arrived.
“You look absolutely gorgeous,” he said, his eyes shining.
I rose on tiptoe to kiss him on the cheek, my whole body tingling with nervous energy at his touch.
“Thanks.”
A hand slung around my waist and I turned to find Mark behind me.
“Miss me?” he said.
“Of course,” I said.
He kissed my hand and my heart skipped a beat.
“I ordered a banana split,” Jake said, nodding at the counter, “I remember you mentioning that was your favorite.”
I’d chosen the Dairy Queen on the far edge of town for several reasons. First, because it was fairly abandoned. Second, because it was not an upscale eatery, No, here in the DQ there were no nosy patrons to be scandalized overhearing what I’d brought Jake and Mark here to talk about.
After Jake had secured the banana split, all three of us squeezed into one side of the booth and got to eating.
“So,” I said, once I’d had my fill, “We need to talk.”
Jake and Mark stopped eating, although they said nothing.
“I feel really terrible about how things have ended up,” I said, “Now, everything’s tense at work, and I’m not sure what’s best.”
Jake stirred his spoon in the remaining liquid vanilla ice cream in the bottom of the container.
“Well, what do you want, Brooke?” he asked.
“I want us all to work together on good terms. Like how it was before,” I said.
“So, you want us to pretend like it never happened?” Mark broke in, his brow creased with an angry furrow.
“No, not at all,” I said, “I meant what I told both of you. I like you, Mark,” I said, as I took his hand in mine, staring into his blue-green narrowed eyes. “And I like you too, Jake,” taking his hand in mine as well, and staring into his happy big brown eyes.
“That’s great,” Mark snapped, ripping hi
s hand away, “But I don’t think I’m okay with that.”
Jake sadly extricated his hand, too.
“I’m sorry, Brooke.”
I took a breath, trying not to show how shaken I felt.
“Okay. Well, I hope we can at least agree that you two shouldn’t be fighting over me at work. It’s not appropriate and it makes things awkward in the office.”
“Of course, we shouldn’t,” Mark snapped loudly. “It’s not like we planned on it. It’s just when my best friend and the girl I just slept with fuck, things are bound to get messy.”
I shot Mark an angry look, pressing my finger to my lips. The curly-haired girl behind the counter was poised there, her eyes, over-lined already, were wide with everything she’d just heard.
“Sorry,” Mark said, “It was just a surprise, that’s all.”
“And I’m sorry for that,” I said, “But I’m not sure what to do at this point.”
“Neither am I,” he admitted. “All I know is that I actually like you. I’ve kept trying to deny it to myself, but that’s gotten me nowhere.”
He lowered his eyes to his fist which was clenching and opening again. Meanwhile, Jake looked even more upset, like he was torn between apologizing to Mark and yelling at him.
“Are you for real?” he finally said.
“What do you mean?” Mark snapped back.
“I’ve seen you, man,” Jake said, frowning, “I’ve seen the way you are with these women—these two-week ‘girlfriends’ of yours. Are you really attracted to Brooke because she’s something special or because she’s the one girl you may not be able to have?”
Mark banged his fist on the table, sending the little ice cream container jumping.
“I don’t know, okay?” he said, in a low tense voice, “All I know is that when I’m with Brooke, when I think of her, things feel different. I laugh, I have fun. I forget myself. It’s like—I’m not the way I am with other women—just thinking about the next time I’ll get laid.”
He shot Jake a sidelong glare.
“And who’s to say that it’s the real deal with you either, lover boy? I mean, just because she’s the first woman you slept with since your ex—”
