“Maybe you’ll meet a beach boy, and you fall in love and live happily ever after with,”
Maven adds with a smile and now I know she’s teasing me. My eyes still locked on Drag’s I say, “yeah, I hope so.”
The sorrow in Drag’s eyes can’t be missed and fuck, it kills me to have just said that, I want to rewind time and just not have answered her.
“Yeah, sounds good,” he finally answers the chick. “I’ll pick you up at seven.”
Why do I feel like I’ve just been hit in the heart with a sledgehammer? Because you still like him jackass. This is good, this is what I wanted, I want him to move on and act like nothing between us ever happened.
I finish the transaction with Drag’s ‘date,’ and Maven’s retreated back into her office, Drag tells the woman he’ll see her later just as she exits. But he lingers at my desk and then it’s just us. I stand up from my chair as we face one another.
“Have a good trip,” he says through gritted teeth and knocks his knuckles once on the countertop, before turning and heading back into the garage.
I watch his retreating back and know that whatever we had…is over.
6
I’m cooking in the mansion that I share with my fiancé, Tyler. When I went on my trip to Lancaster to visit Amber six years ago, I hadn’t planned on meeting a man, and I didn’t, but I did bump into Tyler, my ex from college. We simply broke up due to separation and time and ended things amicably. After I graduated, he was going on to finish his law degree and was moving to New York, so we decided to part ways, nothing dramatic happened, we’d only dated four months by that time anyway. I was out at the farmer’s market with Amber and my niece Tabby, getting fruit for a salad Amber was making for the birthday party when I heard my name.
“Skye? Skye is that you?” A warm hand touching my elbow.
I turn to see Tyler who hadn’t aged since the last time I’d seen him. When our eyes meet, the question leaves his face and is replaced with his large smile.
“It is you, oh wow, how are you?” he asks.
I smile back and adjust my hobo bag strap across my chest.
“Good, what are you doing here? I thought you moved to New York.”
“Yeah I did, I was there for a year and I’ve been back here for almost six months now.”
“Law school still?”
“Yes, graduating next year,” he smiles and I find myself smiling too.
Tyler’s cute in that all-American kind of way. He’s tall and built, short messy blonde hair, blue eyes. We often got told how perfect we looked together, with our blonde hair, big smiles, and tans. It seemed as if no time had passed between us as we catch up, and he’s surprised when I tell him I’m working in an auto body shop.
“Why aren’t you painting, your stuff was good.”
“Uh yeah, I decided an art major wasn’t going to do much good for me unless I wanted to work in a museum or teach, and neither one of those are what I want right now…I like my job, I have good hours and the pay works for me, it’s uncomplicated and I have free time to paint or hike or whatever I want…I’m just not ready for a nine to five stuffy job.”
He nods but I know internally he’s cringing because he doesn’t understand. Tyler has always been about routine and a work ethic that I just never understood, even if I was in love with what I was doing. When we were in college, he never went out at night if he had class in the morning and I kind of lived by the rule, once in a lifetime. College was fun and meant to be fun, yes you had to work hard, but my major wasn’t anything I really needed to hit the books for. Tyler never understood how I could or why I wanted to live my life like I do, but whatever, to each their own. My sister and Tabby walk up as Tyler begins to ask me another question, but Amber speaks, cutting him off.
“Oh my God, Tyler, what a pleasant surprise,” she gushes.
I swear Amber crushed on him harder than I ever did, she often told me he was the ‘one that got away,’ and I often wondered if she meant for me or for her.
“Amber, looking like you haven’t aged a day.”
I discretely roll my eyes as the two hug. My sister’s aged well and I often wonder if I’ll look like her when I get older, her hair’s blonde like mine and she’s small like me, but her style screams mom and I hope I never adapt that look.
“Wow, of all places to bump into each other,” she adds looking between the two of us.
“I was just grabbing something for dinner tonight,” he says.
“Oh, well, it’s my daughter’s birthday party tonight, my husband Luke is barbequing, you should come,” she asks and I want to slap her.
Yes, I like Tyler, but this is awkward because I know exactly what she’s doing, trying to play matchmaker. But my heart’s tender from Drag and no man to me right now can replace the scruffy face I dream about every night. Tyler looks at me with raised eyebrows and I give him a smile and a lift of my shoulder.
“Sure that would be great.”
I felt a little guilty that night we reunited, but I knew Drag was moving on so, why shouldn’t I? We spent the entire night catching up and talking, it was nice and…comfortable. But he didn’t fire up my panties like a certain someone who wore leather, had shoulder length brown hair and told me I smelled like sunshine. Tyler treated me good and wooed the shit out of me that first weekend and when I went back to Plantain, we corresponded and visited every other weekend over the next few months, which usually was followed up by flowers sent to the shop every Monday.
When Tyler proposed to me a few months ago, it was unexpected and without thinking I accepted. I don’t love Tyler, but I felt like in time that I could. I really don’t know why I said yes, other than the spontaneity of it. When Drag saw me showing Maven my ring that Monday, he was quiet and left work shortly after.
When I came into work Tuesday and he wasn’t there, Maven told me there was a lot of stuff going on in the MC and Dornan had sent him off to do a run on the coast and didn’t know when he’d be back. I told myself it was because of business and not because of me that he was gone. Although, I knew I saw his bike parked at the clubhouse but never saw him.
The next week Maven and Dornan left and no one knew when they’d be back, I didn’t know what was happening or why, but I got the sense some serious shit was going on with the club. I thought I heard Smokey tell a prospect that Drag was going to be gone for a while after that and they needed him to pick up his slack, and I never saw Drag again.
Tyler said now that we were engaged he wanted to move me to Lancaster, so even though I knew the shop was already short with Maven and Drag gone, I had to put in my two-week notice with Sven, who seemed too stressed about the club to care, and told me I was always welcome to come back.
If I knew then when I was leaving my life behind, what I was coming to when I got here, I never would’ve left. I worked while Tyler went to law school, although still getting my certification, I found a yoga studio that would let me teach, along with selling some of my paintings. We were able to live in a small rented room in a house, with seven other people who were also students at the same university as Tyler.
Even before he graduated, he’d landed a huge job at one of the biggest law firms in the country. I was so proud, since we struggled to get him to this point and I felt like I’d helped him through the process. Once he got his first big paycheck, he put a deposit down on this house that was bigger than anyone ever needed. He told me to quit my job because I ‘deserved a break,’ to help get the house moved in and settled.
But as the weeks passed, Tyler became more controlling. He told me not to drive my car because it was an eye sore, he actually went so far as to hide my keys. To this day I had no idea where he kept them. The night before I grocery shop, I have to ask permission for my keys, and they show up along with some cash on the kitchen counter the next morning.
Visiting my sister and grocery shopping are the only things I’m allowed to go out alone for. I
also have an allowance on what I spend there and have to show him my receipts every time. Occasionally, I would call Missy but when Tyler saw our phone records he promptly told me he didn’t like me talking with anyone from Plantain, that he knew the shit they did and through me he could be associated to them and that didn’t look good being a lawyer.
So, I began emailing with Missy instead, which I’m sure Tyler doesn’t know about since he surely would put the kibosh on it. She’s been begging me to visit or let her come visit me, I just keep blowing off or changing the subject. I don’t want her to see me now, see this person I’ve become.
My hair is cut every four weeks, my nails are done weekly and I have a personal trainer, stylist, and makeup artist, who all come to the house. I have to accompany Tyler to work related functions, and since he doesn’t like the way I dress myself or do my own hair or makeup, he pays people to do those things for me. I know I live a blessed life, people would die for this, but none of this is worth dying inside over. I’ve asked him why he is so controlling, he tells me he couldn’t stand seeing the envy in other men’s eyes, wanting me, and I’m so beautiful that he doesn’t want anyone to take me away from him.
At first, I believed him. But now I see it’s bullshit, he barely even pays attention to me when we go to his work dinners or parties. I sit there, smiling when they do, nodding when Tyler says something. I’m a prettied-up doll to be at his side, no opinions, no thoughts, just there for him. But it’s not me, and slowly Tyler has changed me.
At first when he started restricting everything, I kept busy. Painting and decorating the house with online shopping, working out for hours a day, starting online courses at a local college. Gradually, I’ve lost that drive to be independent and go live life, and live a little on the wild side. I’m not Skye anymore, I’m…a ghost.
“Hey baby,”
Tyler calls me every day at three p.m. to ask the same question.
“What are you making for dinner?”
No, ‘how is your day?’ or any of the normal things someone who cares about you would ask. Because he doesn’t care, he knows I’m sitting at home doing nothing and that’s just the way he likes it.
“What do you want?” I ask.
“Hmmm I could really go for chicken cordon bleu, broccoli…oh, and can you make a cherry pie?”
“Ok.”
“I’ll be home by seven.”
“Ok.”
“Love you,” he says.
“You too.”
Which is always what I say because the words ‘I love you,’ just doesn’t come out. Every evening I work hard to make a great dinner, it gives me something to do since I can’t leave the house, and it’s a challenge since I’d never really cooked before moving in with Tyler. The kitchen is a chef’s dream, granite counters, huge double fridge, double sinks.
The first-time Tyler got physical with me was over a cooking debacle. I had burnt the shit out of a casserole, and when he got home I was in hysterical laughter over the disaster. Instead of him laughing along with me or kissing me telling me it was okay, he looked around at the smoke and the mess and grabbed me by the throat, slamming me against the wall where he told me to clean up what I’d done and order him something edible.
Usually he doesn’t hit me much, it’s mainly verbal, but still when I think back to that first time, I knew I should’ve left. And now here I am, acting like it’s normal to be scared when the man who is supposed to love me and I’m supposed to be marrying is anywhere near me.
Its after ten p.m. when I hear the garage finally open, the dinner has been sitting in the oven warming for hours and my stomach is growling as I sit at the dinner table. The table is set the way he likes it and I am wearing a pair of designer jeans and a tight sweater that doesn’t reach the top of my jeans…I hate sweaters, but he likes them.
Tyler enters the dining room with his massive six foot four frame, his high school football body still in shape since he works out every morning before work and it’s obvious by the way he carries himself that he works in a powerful position and doesn’t take shit…he’s also carrying a pizza box.
“Oh baby,” he says, setting the pizza down and coming over to me. “Sorry I’m late, you could’ve eaten,” he says as he leans down to kiss my cheek.
“I was fine waiting,” I say, eyeing the pizza box and I know I couldn’t have eaten before him because I’ve learned that lesson before.
“I’m sorry.” He kneels down beside me and cups my cheeks, turning me to face him. “Can we save it for tomorrow?” he asks as he kisses my lips and I can taste whiskey.
I don’t know where he’s been, but it’s not work and I don’t really fucking care, I nod because saying anything won’t matter. He trails his hands from my cheeks to my shoulder and down to my hips, spreading my legs and totally skipping past my breasts. Tyler doesn’t like them, I know this because he’s told me many times and for my birthday this year, made an appointment for me to meet with a plastic surgeon about getting enhancements.
His lips begin to push hard against mine, forcing his tongue in as he stands us up, turning me around and placing my hands on the table. His hot breath on my neck as he pulls my jeans down, slipping his hand inside my panties and shoving two fingers inside my dry pussy. I close my eyes against the pain as he roughly pushes in and out a few times before I hear his belt come undone and his zipper slide down.
“I’m sorry baby,” he moans in reference to the goddamn dinner as I hear a foil packet being torn open.
We use condoms because of me, I know he fucks other chicks and since he doesn’t think I know that, I convinced him birth control would make me gain weight and being that he’s a total narcissist and I’m only arm candy, he agreed to condoms. Thank God because I don’t want to get a disease from one of the many whores he bangs. He shoves into me and I bite my lip because even with the lube on the condom, it hurts. Usually I try to picture Drag, which seems silly since we never had sex. But I imagine him touching me and loving my little tits, kissing me with a passion that Tyler has never kissed me with.
Everything Drag and I did that night at the party six years ago, was more passionate and memorable than anything Tyler and I have ever done. No matter how much I drift into my imagination, it still doesn’t get me wet and I have to endure the painful fucking. Tyler keeps changing his angle, but I know he won’t come, whether it’s from not being attracted to me or maybe he’s had too much to drink I’m not sure, I just want it to be over. When his fingers find my clit, and rub the spot next to it, since he can’t ever seem to find it. I start to make noises and breathe heavily, increasing my sounds gradually so it’s not as obvious that I’m faking.
“Oh yeah, I know you like that,” he groans and slams into me with short penetrating thrusts.
I hit the top of my ‘orgasm,’ and do my best When Harry Met Sally, before letting out a deep breath like that was the most amazing experience of my life. Tyler pulls out and pulls the condom off, throwing the used rubber onto the plate in front of me, really? Even though he hasn’t come, his dick’s already soft and I know it’s probably from the whiskey. We both move our clothes back into place, no kisses or tender touches, just business as usual.
“We still on for a movie?” he asks.
“Yeah,” I say, picking up the plates from the table.
“Okay, I have to make a few calls in the office and then we can watch it.”
With that he heads towards his office and I head to the kitchen, tossing the condom in the trash as I pass by. After putting the chicken in the fridge and changing into my silk pajamas, which is another preference for Tyler, I sit on the couch and curl up under a blanket, putting the pizza box on the coffee table as I flip on the T.V. to watch a rerun of House Hunters and notice it’s already been an hour since Tyler’s been in his office. I can hear him talking to someone on speaker about work as he types on his keyboard, I turn up the volume not that I care to hear the show but I don’t w
ant to hear him. Another half hour goes by and he’s still talking to someone on the landline, I grab my cell phone and see I have a new email from Missy. Clicking the icon to open and read,
To: Skye Davenport
From: Missy Frederickson
Subject: Exciting news!
Hey Chicka, I have some awesome news, Dornan and Maven are back! I know, can you believe it? Anyway, they are getting married this weekend in Plantain and we all want you to come, please please please say YES! Love you, miss you, and hope you can come, email me back with an answer pronto! Love Missy.
Missy had told me not too long ago what happened with Dornan and Maven, it was one of our last phone calls. I was shocked, since I didn’t know the club was involved with shit like what they got caught up in. But a few months ago, I saw on the news that a president of a motorcycle club was going to trial and I wondered if it had something to do with them. Going back to Plantain would be awesome, I could breathe there and be me…I’d also probably be seeing Drag. What if he had a girlfriend? Shit what if he was married? Could I handle seeing him giving someone the affection that I had daydreamed about for years?
Even worse, what if he didn’t even give a shit about seeing me? I don’t know what would be worse, jealousy or indifference. Either way, I would be gutted. What the fuck am I saying? I have a life here; a life I’m not even married into yet…fuck. My finger hovers over the reply button when I hear Tyler’s cellphone ring which is quickly answered and his voice lowers. I know what this means, one of his fuck buddies has called and he won’t be staying here with me. I close out the email app on my phone and set it on the coffee table, as I pull the blanket up to cover my arms Tyler exits his office and comes to sit by my feet.
“Baby, I gotta go, there’s a problem at work.”
“Okay.” I try to act disappointed.
Come as you Are: Plantain Series Book Two Page 4