‘How can you say that?’ I said, shaking my head in disbelief. ‘After everything we went through, the years of silence.’
‘You didn’t make it easy,’ he said. ‘You wouldn’t see me, you didn’t answer my calls.’
‘You were with someone at the wedding too. The brunette who made you laugh during the speeches. The one you smiled at during the meal.’
‘What? Chrissy?’ He sighed, dragging his fingers through his hair. ‘We’d been together a month, Amy. Mum told me you were seeing someone. Your parents said you’d moved on.’
‘That was the script I gave them! The bloody moving on script. You’d moved on so I wanted to show I’d done the same. It’s the oldest trick in the book. Don’t you know anything about working a break-up?’
‘Obviously I did’ he replied, shrugging his shoulders. ‘I did the same. I didn’t want to turn up alone and have to watch you being happy or deeply in love with another man. It would have crushed me. I needed a distraction from that, Amy. Chrissy agreed to come with me. We broke up a week later.’
I laughed nervously, still not fully understanding what this meant. The only words I could hear when I was closed my eyes were, How fucking stubborn.
‘You seemed so happy. I watched you. I studied you.’
‘Christ. I was watching you. I was smiling because I was near you. Finally, I was near you.’ He threw his hands up before leaning his head against the steering wheel. ‘What are we doing? Tell me what we’re doing and why we’ve wasted so much time. I fucking ache, Amy. I ache for you.’
‘If you ache for me, why didn’t you find me? Why didn’t you tell me?’ I asked as his hand reached for my face, his eyes wide and pleading. He got closer, his nose skimming mine, testing, checking, wanting permission, tentative, but still not believing we were in this place of talking about what happened after so much time.
‘You left,’ he said against my ear. ‘I thought you wanted to create as much distance as possible from me. You ignored my calls, my visits. I let you go because I thought that’s what you wanted.’
My hand skimmed his neck, into his hair until clarity trickled through. The wedding had been a turning point for me. Before, I feared forgiving him and creating the distance was necessary, but the fresh heartache of watching Ethan happy with someone else was pure torture. It only highlighted that I was still in love with him. That night, I made the decision that the only way for me to move forward was to ensure I wouldn’t have to face situations where my heart would be torn to pieces. Our families were intertwined. Our friends mutual. Over the years, attending the same weddings was highly likely, christenings the next step in the chain. I had to remove myself. Give myself excuses to not attend – I’m sorry, I can’t make it back that weekend. Work is killing me. I can’t get the day off – end the opportunities to bump into him at the local shops or drink in the same local pub. I needed to find myself. Carve out my identity as Amy. Singular. Person in my own right, not attached to Ethan or part of an aah-inducing childhood sweetheart package.
So, I moved, thinking I would be safe from the trauma of seeing his life flourish with someone who wasn’t me.
‘Talk to me,’ he said, holding my face, stroking his fingers in my hair. ‘Don’t stop talking. That means you’re thinking and I need you to stay with me, not go back to those shitty moments from years ago.’ I wrapped my fingers around his and removed them from touching me. Stopping the contact. Ending the surge of tingles only he could promote. He nodded, closing his eyes like he was finally admitting that the history that broke us couldn’t be wiped away through a few words and a longed-for kiss.
A knock on the window made me jump. Ethan pulled it down and pasted on a false smile. ‘Hi. Can I help you?’
‘Yeah, mate. I can’t believe I’m doing this. My best mates mum turns fifty in a couple of weeks.’ He pointed to a group of guys behind him. ‘He’s made me ask for some details. Prick wouldn’t come himself. Apparently, she’s always wanted a stripper. I think it’s all a bit weird but there you go.’
Ethan leant over, brushing my knee as he opened the glovebox. A rush of sparks collided around my body from such a small contact. A skim. A graze. The slightest touch re-awakening feelings no one else had come close to. He pulled a small card out and handed it to him. ‘Here you go. It’s got all my contact details. Just give the office a call.’
‘Cheers, mate. Listen, do you do all that lap dancey stuff?’
‘If that’s what she wants.’
‘Great. And she’s got a thing for firefighters. You do that? Get out your hose, ignite the fire?’
‘My speciality,’ Ethan replied. The guy nodded and paced a little. He seemed nervous, like he had more to say but didn’t know how to get there. ‘Is that all?’
Whispers and laughs could be heard from the lads behind him. The guy swore under his breath. ‘So…Erm. I’ve got to ask this. Fuck my life. Dan, I’m going to kill you,’ he said before shaking his head. ‘Do you get your cock out? She specifically asked for the cock.’
‘Jesus,’ I said, shielding my face with my hands. I felt Ethan shift in his seat.
‘Yeah…I get my cock out,’ he replied.
‘Nice one, mate. Cock. Firefighter. Lap dancing. Gyrating. Ticking all the boxes. I’ll be in touch.’
Ethan pulled up the window and stared out of the windscreen. He tapped the steering wheel with two heavy taps. He coughed into his hand. Fiddled with the keys. Pressed his foot on the accelerator twice, the sound of the engine cutting the silence. I glanced over and saw a blush creep across his cheeks.
‘Sorry about that. Ruined the moment and highlighted again that I get my cock out for a living.’
‘It’s nothing I don’t already know,’ I smiled but he looked away. Conflicted. Embarrassed? I wasn’t sure.
‘Tell me where you live,’ he said, sighing. ‘I promised to take you home.’
‘I’ll direct you there,’ I replied, turning my head away from the intensity of it all, of him. ‘Turn left at the end of the road.’
He followed my instructions, thankful that I was forced to talk to him and essentially ending the silence for a few short bursts. As we turned the corner we approached the bus stop where Sarah and Gail were waiting for the night bus. The group of women, or more specifically, my colleagues, were left gawping, mouths open as the stripper mobile slowed down.
‘Let’s give them something to talk about,’ he said before beeping the horn three times and giving them a salute, An Officer and a Gentleman style. I waved briefly and bit my lip. Part of me hated drawing attention to myself, but the other part was squashing down some excitement into a more manageable-sized package.
‘This hasn’t happened in a while,’ he said as he pulled away.
‘What’s that?’
‘Me taking you home for the night.’
Chapter 4
It was getting colder now that it was late. Before I had chance to rub my arms with my hands Ethan turned up the heat in the car, doing what he always used to do, knowing immediately what I needed. Caring for me. ‘That better?’ he asked.
‘Yeah, thanks.’ He nodded, pleased that he had looked after me. Like old times.
‘Can you remember our last day of school?’ Ethan asked. Like it was yesterday. It was etched onto my brain as one of the worst days of my life. The end of school meant going our separate ways, finding our own paths and meeting new people. I didn’t want that. I wanted to keep Ethan in my circle for as long as possible. Friends were cheering as we left the school gates for the final time but I was sobbing into my school tie.
‘Erm…bits and pieces,’ I lied.
‘I still have my school shirt. We signed our names on it, drew little pictures.’
‘I still have mine,’ I replied, suddenly finding myself smiling.
‘We were so full of dreams. Daniel Watson drew an amazing outline of Roadrunner on the back of mine. He was convinced he was going to work for Disney and become a famous animator.’
‘Did he?’ I asked.
‘Did he? Heck. He works at laser quest in town. Chief zombie zapper.’
‘What a fall from grace,’ I deadpanned, glancing at his hands on the steering wheel, the white scar on his knuckle propelling me back to the day he landed on a smashed milk bottle at the park. Sitting in the car with him now, it was hard to believe that I had survived the last few years without him being a regular fixture of my life. I had survived, but was I merely existing rather than living a life that I was truly happy with? Stop questioning yourself.
‘Are you still working at that firm? The one where you used to come home smelling of acrylic paint?’ Ethan asked.
‘No, I got made redundant shortly after we split. It added to a great year.’ The factory I worked for when we were together made signs for warehouses. I sorted labels into boxes and very almost died of boredom around 2 pm every weekday afternoon. I lived for Fridays when we finished at lunchtime and I was able to meet Ethan out of work.
‘And now?’
‘I’ve just started a job as a receptionist. The girls from the hen do are my colleagues and now they think I’m shagging a stripper. I’m making a great first impression,’ I replied, giving him a thumbs up. He laughed lightly, stopping abruptly when he saw my raised eyebrow that accompanied it.
‘Ah, office gossip one day, urban myth another,’ he said squeezing my leg with his hand, forgetting himself and removing it quickly when he assessed the move. I couldn’t help but wish he had kept it there. The warm, fuzzy feeling it evoked was unexpected but welcome. What was happening to me? I had accepted a long time ago that we were over, realised that we could never be friends again. Mourned the loss of a lover who matched my needs and desires with every new relationship that never quite measured up. Yet here I was, smiling, laughing, reminiscing and wondering where we would go from here when we finally pulled up at my flat and had to go our separate ways.
‘Take a right and at the roundabout you need to take the first exit,’ I said, pointing to nothing in particular. His hands started tapping the steering wheel, and then moved to his thigh where he would start the anxious tapping process all over again. Sneaky glances were becoming the norm but meeting our eyes appeared to be too difficult for both of us.
I looked across at the driver’s side window, pretending to be interested in the shops and street signs I’d seen a hundred times before when really, I was looking at the outline of the abs of Superman and Batman rolled together in one perfect specimen of human gorgeousness. Ethan had always been beautiful. Handsome just didn’t cover it. He was a rare beauty. He had bright blue eyes and dark hair, deep dimples that appeared with big smiles, immediately putting you at ease. A rugged softness was how my mum described him. He loved sports. Rugby was a favourite, but the hard edges of rugby during the day would be replaced by the nightly softness of reading or his passion for cooking. Almost like an alter ego from stereotypical male pursuits.
I dropped my gaze from the abs of Thor and settled them on the thighs of Flash. The dark denim stretched across the definition that could only be described as sublime. He worked out. And not just an hour’s cardio followed by a Jacuzzi as a treat. This guy worked the weights. I’m talking squats-a-plenty with a kettlebell hanging off each ear. My fingers flexed, wiggling in anticipation of dragging themselves across the tight denim. I pulled them into a fist and held them under my armpits to stop myself.
‘So, you’ve…filled out a bit.’
He smiled, the dimples appearing like a meteorite dropping onto earth. The deep dips were a favourite place of mine. I’d been known to lick them on occasion. ‘I try and look after myself,’ he replied, smiling as I held my lip between my teeth.
‘Who knew that body was fighting to get out. Did you…define this–’ I held my hands out to him, ‘for the “taking all your items of clothing off” aspect of the job?’
‘Actually, I started lifting weights after we split. It was a good way of occupying my mind,’ he replied.
‘You should add an acknowledgment to me in your promo. Ladies and gentlemen, this body has been honed by Amy Chadwick. Enjoy the results.’
‘You’ve got a good point. I’ll suggest it to the boss,’ he replied, the dimples appearing again to knock all sense out of me.
‘You don’t work for yourself?’
‘No, it’s a company. They have five of us on the books. People can choose who they want determined by looks, the act, price point.’
‘That’s awful. They get to choose you like a pair of shoes?’ He pulled his mouth together and nodded. ‘What price point are you?’ I started nibbling my nail, knowing what the answer would be. A glimpse of his cock fifty feet away through binoculars would push him to the highest price point.
‘I’m at the top. I get the most bookings.’
Of course he does.
‘Take a right,’ I replied. ‘How long have you been stripping for? What made you start? Was it something you’ve always wanted to do? It couldn’t be, you would have told me. Or maybe you wouldn’t? I don’t know. I would have been fine with it. I think. Did you not tell me because you didn’t think I’d be fine with it?’
‘Fuck me, any more questions?’ he asked, laughing.
‘Sorry. It’s just…I’m trying to make sense of it.’
‘The guy who runs the company goes to the same gym. He handed me his card in the changing rooms one night and asked if I had ever considered stripping.’
‘Oh my God! What did you say?’ I replied, holding my hand over my mouth.
‘At first, I laughed. Told him I wasn’t interested. But then he started telling me about the benefits of the job. Working hours are generally in the evening so I have all day to do what I want. The money is good. We get looked after. He asked me if I wanted to watch a show to see if I felt it was for me. I went along to a private party and almost choked on my beer when the guy stripped everything off. After, I told him I wasn’t interested but he said that I could do it without getting the equipment out.’ He looked down to his groin and I followed, remembering what it felt like against my skin. His cock had taken me by surprise the first time I saw it. We told each other everything but he’d kept the news that he was packing a monstrous cock to himself.
‘But tonight, you were completely naked. I could make out your appendage from the other side of the room. It almost nudged me in the ribs.’ He laughed before shaking his head. He always did that when I made an awful joke.
‘The other guys started telling me how much they earned for doing the full monty and once I’d done a few shows, got more familiar with what I was doing, I decided to give it a go. I was booked up for the next twelve months,’ he said, smirking.
‘I bet you were, Mr Love Truncheon.’
The laughter settled down, his dimples disappeared and my need to know what he had been doing for the last three years increased. Ethan had been my best friend since we were kids, knowing that I’d missed out on so much time was heart breaking.
‘I bet it was a shock,’ he said, finally breaking the silence.
‘Considering the last time we spoke you were working in a call centre…’
‘I meant about seeing me again. Stripping aside.’
I fiddled with my hair, wrapping it around my finger, trying to give myself time to think of the right answer. Yes, I was shocked, angry even, especially after the hurt resurfaced, but now it was more of a surprise birthday party kind of shock rather than a burglar hiding underneath the bed kind of shock.
‘It brought a lot to the surface. A lot I’ve pushed aside and tried not to think about.’
Now those thoughts were bobbing along the surface like a buoy on the ocean.
‘I fucked us up, didn’t I?’ he said, sighing as his hand starting tapping his thigh again.
‘You hurt me,’ I replied, thankful that I was finally getting the opportunity to say what I wanted to say all those years ago. ‘So much.’
‘I was stupid. It was stupid.’
/>
‘Take the next left and it’s the block of flats just on the right,’ I said as the home I shared with two friends came into view. Nicola and I had met at a spin class. Our mutual state of being bright red, our clothes soaked in sweat and having a huge craving for salt and vinegar crisps after every class sealed our friendship. She was looking for a flatmate and the rest was history. Julia joined us three weeks ago after we cleared out the box room when we realised we could more easily afford our Saturday night ritual of eating out followed by a night clubbing if the rent was shared three ways.
Ethan pulled up and turned off the car engine. The nervous tapping resumed with both hands.
‘Well, tonight was a head fuck. Thanks.’ He laughed, bobbing his head in agreement. ‘I think I’ll turn in,’ I said as I fiddled around in my bag for the keys. I didn’t know what to do with this moment. I had so much I wanted to say, to ask, but I had no idea where to start.
‘Amy, I’d really like to see you again.’
His words tailed off as I continued feeling around in my bag. I tipped it up onto my lap and tapped aside the contents. ‘Oh fuck!’ I said, ignoring him as panic set in. ‘Where are my keys? This is just brilliant. What a fantastic way to end the night. Bloody hell, why do these things always happen to me? I end up at a hen do where I don’t know the bride, fall over, get pelted in the head with a thong…oh, don’t forget smashing my phone and now my keys have gone!’
‘Are you sure you’ve checked your bag properly?’
I held up the tiny sliver of fabric I called a clutch bag. ‘I don’t think they’re hiding behind the zip, do you?’
‘Fair point,’ he replied, smiling.
Dimple city.
‘It’s OK. It’s fine. One of my flatmates should be home.’ I clutched my chest; unsure my heart could take much more stress today. Julia had better be home or she’d be looking for a new box room.
‘I’ll come with you.’
‘Oh, no. Definitely not. I’m not sure what you’re used to with your…stripper groupies but I am not that type of girl.’
Stripped Bare: A Novella Page 3