by Kat T. Masen
I scan the room, hoping to find her alone. Amongst the other dancers, she’s there with him. My blood begins to boil watching his hands all over her. With a slight growl, my teeth begin to clench as I take long steps toward her, zigzagging through the crowd, excusing myself as I bump into couples holding each other tightly while they dance to Frank Sinatra.
“Mind if I cut in?” I interrupt, flashing a friendly smile. “For old time’s sake?”
Charlotte’s tanned skin turns almost pale. Julian, on the other hand, is annoyed. He whispers something in her ear making her smile, then he walks away like a good little boy should. I place a hand over hers, and the other on her waist. I ache to hold her closer, the familiarity is just too much. I have to get through this.
She questions what I want. Accusing me of calling us friends, and I’m quick to tell her that, according to her, our relationship meant nothing. Just a high school fling.
And there, I pointed out the one thing she said to me which hurt me more than anything.
That we were nothing.
That everything I said meant nothing to her.
She’s quick to change the subject, avoiding the topic completely. Then comes the thousand questions. Her curiosity is piquing as to why I changed careers. There’s so much she doesn’t know about me, but I don’t want to have this conversation on the dance floor. I ask her to meet me afterward for a drink, and knowing she heard me but chose to ignore me, I decide to do what I do best—I rile a reaction from her.
“How long have you and Julian been together?”
“Why, Lex? Does it matter? What about you? I’m guessing you’re no longer with Samantha since you hooked up with another blonde,” she snaps.
I calmly explain the scenario, a small part of me hoping it makes her jealous which can only mean she still cares. Her face scrunches up when she gets angry, and I smirk, hoping she will lighten up, but boy, am I wrong.
The crowd stops dancing to applaud the band, and she takes the opportunity to end the dance, thanking me before walking away.
Defeated, and unsure of my next move, I walk back toward my table, forgetting about my date, Brooke. She glances at me with a blank expression on her face.
“Who is she, Lex?” Her tone is flat, she’s not at all jealous.
This is strange. I’m not used to calm women around me.
“Who? The brunette?” I look over and see Julian with his arms around her. Fuck! One minute away from me, and she’s running into his arms.
Exerting my anger, I crack my knuckles, penetrating Charlotte with a cold stare. Each time his lips touch her, my pulse quickens, causing my body to tense followed by an outbreak of sweat.
“Just someone from high school. No one special.”
The words hurt even to say them.
“Listen, Lex, there’s something you should know.” Brooke twists her napkin, nervously looking around. “I only agreed to this date to please my parents.”
I laugh at the irony of it all, welcoming the distraction. “Your parents? Brooke, I don’t think your dad likes me one bit.”
“See, the thing is that, um…” she downs the rest of her champagne, placing the empty glass on the table, “… I’m not interested in you. Sorry, I mean, not just you… in men.”
Rubbing my chin, I watch her with confusion, trying to understand before it clicks. “You prefer your own kind?”
She laughs, immediately relaxing her shoulders and letting out a sigh. “Yes, I do, Lex. I’m sorry, I haven’t gone public, and my father’s in the middle of an important campaign.”
“Secret’s safe with me.” I grin. “But only if you do one thing… pretend you’re at least interested in me for the night. It might come in handy later.”
Yes, I have a plan. It just needs to be executed.
Charlotte can control herself as much as she wants, but little does she know that I know of her weakness. Jealousy runs deep within her veins, and somehow, I need to ignite the flame beneath that jealousy and make it burn wild.
“Deal. I’m sure I can play a straight lady for one night.”
We both laugh this time, knowing how fucked-up this all is. I’m glad there’s no longer this awkward tension between us.
“I’ll be back,” I tell her. “I need to use the restroom.”
Inside the restroom, I shut the door behind me, unzipping my pants to pull my cock out. It’s throbbing. With every stroke comes pleasure. I close my eyes, remembering her standing in front of me, her chest exposed slightly in her dress, her tanned skin itching to be kissed, the trail leading to her full breasts. I try to remember what her nipples look like, how they felt in my mouth. The squeal she’d make when I tugged on them with my teeth.
Instantly, I blow all over my hand.
It isn’t taking me long these days.
Grabbing a wad of paper, I wipe my hand, then throw it down the toilet and flush. I give myself a moment to calm down before I zip my pants and head out of the stall to wash my hands. Just as I stand there at the basin, Julian walks in.
“So, did you enjoy your dance with Charlie? Just like old times, hey?”
His tone wreaks of jealousy but I fucking thrive on it.
“Just like old times. But, hey, you heard her, we were just high school kids back then,” I answer, playing dumb.
“But you weren’t in high school. If I remember correctly from my research, you graduated seven years before her. So, when you and Charlie dated, you were like, what, twenty-five? And she was eighteen?”
“What’s your point?”
“And you were married at the time. See, Lex, this is the thing… we always want what we can’t have.”
“I had her. What the fuck are you trying to say?”
He wants to play dirty, but he’s messing with the wrong guy.
“Exactly. You had her, but you couldn’t keep her.” He checks his face in the mirror, adjusting his bow tie at the same time. “Just remember who she’s with now and whose bed she’ll be in tonight.” With a cocky grin, he pushes the door open and leaves the restroom.
Leaning on the countertop for support, my knuckles turn white from the pressure. Gritting my teeth, I silence the profanities begging to be shouted inside the confinement of this room. The animosity toward him is like acid burning every single inch of me.
I stare into the mirror, nostrils flaring with a tight expression. If Charlotte is anything like she was back in high school, jealousy is the curse she was never able to break, and my desperation is willing to prey on her weakness.
Back inside the ballroom, I make my way to our table and lean into Brooke’s ear. “Time to call in a favor?”
She nods with a devilish smile, following me to the dance floor where I find us a spot in Charlotte’s view.
Charlotte is staring at me with a ray of mixed emotions. I lean in to kiss Brooke on the neck, closing my eyes, pretending to inhale her scent. My eyes slowly move up searching for Charlotte’s reaction.
Tormented, Charlotte lets go of Julian, walking swiftly toward the exit. I quickly excuse myself, assuming she’s running out of the ballroom. I spot her walking down the hall, flustered. Moving in at a faster pace, my grip tightens on her arm while I drag her into a small conference room.
Unable to control my emotions around her, I pace the floor between us, and we both yell at each other in frustration. Words carelessly leave our mouths, hurting each other to erase the guilt of the past. In the heat of the moment, her expression turns pained, and defensively she brings up Samantha again.
Watching her, my mind is out of control. I’m unable to fight the urge anymore, crushing my lips against hers.
The taste of her soft lips melts onto mine. Our tongues feverishly battle each other as I press her body into mine, keeping my tight grip, never wanting to let her go. She doesn’t push me away, so I take advantage by cupping her face, desperately releasing the built-up tension which has grown over our years apart.
Suddenly, she begins to resist. Refus
ing to allow her to give up on us, I trap her arms forcefully, willing we continue. Pressing my cock against her thigh, I ache to be inside her. I groan into her mouth, wanting her to know how much I need her.
My hand trails her cheekbone and slides down her neck, finding itself flat against the middle of her exposed chest. Just one move to the left or right, and I’ll have her in my hands. Her perfect tits are calling out to me, but it’s almost like she can read my mind. Finding her strength, she moans, then pushes me away.
As we struggle to catch our breath, she pleads with her eyes, shaking her head on the verge of tears.
“Lex, we can’t. Please, you don’t understand… I can’t go down this path again.”
No matter how many times I say it, it can never erase what happened. I apologize, telling her how much I regret my actions. She has to see that none of it was supposed to happen.
Charlotte Mason was meant to be my girl, my wife, all along.
“Lex, I’ve moved on. It took me a long time to finally accept what happened between us. If you care for me at all, even as a friend, please just leave me alone.”
Her eyes never leave mine as she says those words. Turning around, she places her hand on the door, stopping to touch her lips before leaving me alone in the room.
I run my fingers through my hair, reeling from what just happened, unable to calm my racing heart. What the fuck is happening? Maybe I just need to get her out of my system. Just one last time, one fuck. Maybe it isn’t about love anymore, maybe it’s primal curiosity.
But her last words hang around me, a dire warning to leave her alone.
I walk out of the ballroom, running into my sister. “Lex, there you are. We need to talk.”
“Not now, Adriana.” I continue to walk away, unable to think clearly.
“It’s about Charlie.”
Stopping mid-step, Adriana catches my attention.
“What’s wrong?”
“All that stuff Charlie’s mom said was a lie. There was nobody else. Maria just said that so you wouldn’t look for her,” Adriana rushes, her expression full of regret.
She accompanied me on that fateful trip to Cuba and knew what I had gone through and the reason behind my decision at the time. All of this, the whole mess of what we once were, is becoming this tangled web of lies.
“I thought I was doing the right thing. I thought she deserved to be happy, even if it was with someone else.”
Staring down at my feet, my emotions are exposed as the regret begins to seep in. In just one night, Charlotte has brought out everything I’ve been burying since the moment I left her on that cliff. I promised her things, things I knew I shouldn’t, all because I was terrified of losing her.
And in the end, I lost her completely with my careless actions.
“I know, Lex. But it’s done, and now she’s here. What are you going to do about it?”
“I don’t know. She asked me to leave her alone…” I scrub a hand over my hair, “… said she’s finally happy.”
“You did that last time and look where it got you.”
I don’t answer her, walking back to the ballroom in a dull state. The fight within me is compromised, not knowing which way to turn.
The night starts to wind down, and I watch as the crowd slowly disperses. Charlotte is with Eric and Emma, grabbing their things. She glances at me before quickly turning away.
So what? I don’t even get a goodbye? This isn’t like Charlotte at all. The old Charlotte wouldn’t ignore me. She’d be in my face cursing until the sun set if she had a problem.
If you care for me at all, even as a friend, please just leave me alone. Her words replay in my mind over and over again like a broken record.
I don’t want to make more mistakes.
The past is the past, and to move forward, I have to forgive myself for all the wrong decisions I made. But it isn’t just about me forgiving myself, it’s about her forgiving me too. And more than anything, I need it like the air I breathe.
Outside, the concierge opens the door to the car. “Mr. Edwards, your driver is here.”
“Thank you.”
I tip the young guy, then press the security screen down to speak to Kyle.
“Where to, sir?”
I have to make this right. I owe it to us—no more indecisiveness. You need to follow your gut and act accordingly.
“After Dark, please.”
CHARLIE
The ten-minute cab ride to After Dark drags on for what feels like a lifetime.
The guilt, betrayal, and the momentary indiscretion all weigh heavily on my shoulders like a lead weight. It was just a kiss. It means nothing, and he initiated it. I pulled away. Therefore, I shouldn’t feel guilty. Really, Charlie?
I studied law at Yale. How stupid can I be? The problem isn’t my brain. The problem is my heart pulling it along, guiding it in the wrong direction. I can practically hear the GPS in my head telling me to make a U-turn as soon as possible.
It doesn’t take Eric long to break the uncomfortable silence. He keeps his voice low while Emma sits in the front speaking loudly on her phone.
“Okay, Charlie, are you going to tell me about Lex? The suspense is killing me.”
I can hear the anticipation in his voice, but I just want to forget tonight ever happened. This emotional rollercoaster is becoming tiresome, and I’m drained from the twists and turns, wanting desperately to get off the ride.
Every time I see Alex, the surge of anger consumes me whole. Anger for leaving me behind, for choosing her, but mostly because my heart craves him, forgetting about the giant scar it left in the middle.
The kiss replays in my mind, his desperation through his forceful nature. Then the guilt washes over me, and now I’m back to square one, again.
“There’s nothing to tell. We dated in high school.”
“So, when you say ‘dated,’ were you in love with him? Why did you break up?”
This is the type of conversation that needs to take place over a bottle of tequila, never-ending packets of Hershey’s, and a box of tissues and not in the back of a cab. Eric won’t give up, always stubborn and impatient, so I give him the best answer I can, but knowing Eric, he’ll keep pursuing his line of questioning.
Facing the window, I swallow the hard lump inside my throat, my shoulders drooping as I fumble with my clutch.
“I thought I was in love with him, but I was just a kid. I didn’t know what love was. We parted ways, and I went to college.”
“Okay, but, honey cakes, he’s drop-dead gorgeous. Don’t you want to tap that ass again?”
Here we go. Eric tends to get all Queen Latifah when he’s had too much champagne. This is just the beginning.
“E, he might be gorgeous, but look, he’s just another big-shot CEO. His ego is so big it has its own air supply and should come with a government warning, and quite frankly, any woman is just a notch on his belt, anyway. These types of guys don’t stick around. Oh, and aren’t you forgetting a very important factor… hello!” I remind him, flashing my ring in front of his face.
“Oh yeah… but are you sure about it?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“All I’m saying is that every time you are near him, your tatas jump for joy, and your beaver is singing ‘Celebration,’ and I swear I can almost hear a gospel choir singing ‘Hallelujah.’”
“Honestly, Eric, how on earth do you come up with these things?” I laugh, trying to lighten the mood.
Eric distracts himself by taking selfies with his phone. Thankfully, the subject is officially dropped.
After Dark is a new club to hit the nightlife scene in the Meat Packing District. Several people are waiting in line, and according to Eric, it’s the new ‘It’ place. High-profile celebrities are dubbing it their new place to unwind, something Eric’s all over.
Worried we won’t get in, I suggest we find another place to have a drink.
“Eric Kennedy, party of three.”
>
The large security guard opens the rope, letting us in. How did Eric pull that off? I know people have been trying to get in for weeks as the list is long and distinguished.
We walk past the rope and into the club.
Eric is on a power trip as he raises his chin, walking into the club with a strut.
The club is huge compared to others I’ve been to. The bottom level is the dance floor, lit up in an aqua color. The mezzanine level where we’re standing, circles the dance floor. There are black leather booths that follow the flow of the circle, each one occupied with patrons. Facing directly opposite from the entrance is a long and crowded bar, but nevertheless, we need drinks to help me forget about my tangled love life.
We follow Eric to the bar. I motion for the bartender, which isn’t hard as he’s already eyeing me up, or should I say he’s eyeing my chest. This dress is seriously the biggest man-magnet, making me slightly self-conscious amongst these younger guys.
The image of Lex’s hand resting on my chest, inches away from the curve of my breast, flashes before me. Argh, I need to get drunk. The tequila can’t come fast enough, the bartender lining up shot glasses and pouring the liquor into them accordingly.
After we knock back our first round, I order a second, ignoring the burn lingering inside my throat. They need to keep coming if I want to erase this entire night and every image of Lex touching my body.
By the third round, Eric abandons us. As predicted, some hot guy steals him away, and for all I know, he’s probably tied up in the back room. Not complaining, of course, Eric is kinky when he’s drunk, and he is never afraid to share the details the morning after.
“Look, Charlie, I don’t want to upset you, but if you ever need to talk you know I’m here, right?”
Emma’s offer is genuine. I know I can confide in her without the biased judgment. Plus, she’s a great listener.
“Thanks, Emma, but all I want to do is forget tonight ever happened. How did I go from no men in my life to a fiancé and ex-boyfriend?”
“Maybe it’s fate. Have you thought about that?”
Emma is a believer in fate, love, and destiny. It wouldn’t surprise me if she attends those finding-love seminars and writes affirmations on her bathroom mirror. Great for some, definitely not for me. Love has always screwed me sideways, and we didn’t have a great relationship until Julian came along.