After Rachel catches a couple breaths, she says “You had no reason to be nervous.”
I smile, a brand new sense of confidence in my eyes. I lean down and envelop her lips once again. She pulls me down deeper as we remain in a passionate embrace. I never wanted to leave this position. I wished time would freeze and Rachel would never have to leave town. That we’d never have to put clothes back on. That we could just lay here forever. Granted, it was a sticky, hot mess, but it was our mess. Our strange, yet beautiful mess. And I didn’t want it to end.
At the end of the night, we eventually had made our way over the bed. We just laid there for hours, enjoying each other’s company. Each other’s touch.
“When do you have to go back home?” I say, bringing up the inevitable.
“Way to kill the mood.” Rachel jokes.
“I’m serious.”
"Probably two weeks," Rachel says discouragingly.
“So we only have two more weeks together?”
“I just want to focus on right now. We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.” Rachel kisses my forehead.
She was right. This was perfection. I couldn’t imagine being anywhere else in the world. I felt safe in Rachel’s embrace.
At that moment I came to the realization that I did not want to marry Tom. I never felt fully safe in his arms. It always felt kind of fake or forced. And what would a life of security be without love? Without passion?
This felt so natural. So simple and easy.
CHAPTER 5
The best part about all of this was that when I woke up the next morning, she was still there. Making breakfast, in fact, wearing nothing but an oversized t-shirt she must’ve found in my dresser.
“Good morning, beautiful,” Rachel gives me a warm smile from across the room.
Throughout the day I notice that Rachel has turned into a completely different person. She didn’t talk about work once and wanted to just spend a day out on the town. I invited Carl, and we spent the entire day walking around New York City, clothes shopping, trying new foods, and not having a care in the world.
Rachel looked happier than I’d ever seen her. And I felt happier and more energized than I had been since I was a kid. But when evening time rolled around, I started wearing down, but Rachel was raring to keep going. She wanted to go out to a club and dance the night away.
Rachel's job was high-stress. She was used to having an endless supply of energy and being active for hours upon hours. Yet at my job I sat at a desk for most of the day, and did very little physical activity outside of work.
After dinner, I tell her I was gonna head home and that she could go out and have fun. But she guilts me, “Oh come on, Kelly. Please come out with me. It won’t be any fun unless you’re there!”
My body was so exhausted and all I wanted to do was put on sweatpants and curl up in bed. But I couldn't say no to her beautiful, begging eyes. So we went out to one of the top-rated nightclubs in the area. I tried to make the excuse that I couldn't afford it but she insisted she'd pay my way.
It was a Saturday night and the club is packed to the hilt. The atmosphere is thick and foggy. LED lights flash from all around, making me dizzy. You can practically feel the sweat and raging hormones crawling across your skin. The grinding that was happening all over the dance floor could’ve basically been deemed as dry humping. Both girls and guys everywhere wore next to nothing, and the sweat glimmered on their skin under the hot lights.
All the waiters and waitresses are dressed in some sort of silver, and I was surprised they never ran into anyone. The whole place was actually quite intimidating. Rachel noticed my entire demeanor closing up.
“What’s the problem?” She whines.
“I think I’m just gonna go home… This isn’t really my scene.”
“No! Just have some fun!” Rachel tries to loosen me up. She flags down a waiter and orders a couple of drinks.
I spot an empty table in the corner. “I’m too tired to dance. You go ahead. I’ll just sit.”
Rachel frowns, defeated. “Ugh, fine.” She starts walking towards the dance floor. “Party pooper!” She calls back.
I sit down at the corner table before anyone else could claim it. It was where I felt safest. I didn’t have to have random guys and girls grinding their sex-crazed, sweaty bodies against me.
Rachel stayed towards the side of the dance floor, purposely so I could still see her. She let the heavy beat take her away and she let go of all inhibitions. She was free. She made eye contact with me and slowed down her movements. She sensually slides her hands down her sides. She swivels her hips in a big, slow circle and looks back towards me, a sexy smile on her face. My body ached to be right up there with her, but I just didn’t have the energy.
Instead, I bundled up my jacket, set it on the table, laid my head down on it and only several moments later, I was dead asleep.
The next thing I know Rachel is tapping my shoulder. “Hey. We have to go.”
I groggily pick my head up and look around. Most of the place has cleared out and the waiters are cleaning up massive messes.
“What time is it?” I utter.
“3am. The place is closing.”
I push myself up and feel a little woozy but eventually catch my balance. My eyes are still half asleep and walking faster than a turtle feels like a full-throttle workout.
Rachel waits until we’re in the cab to start ripping into me. “What the hell was that? I came to the club to have a good time with you, and what do you do? Sit in the corner and fucking sleep!”
She keeps on hurling drunk insults at me but honestly I was too tired to process anything she said.
And it went on like this for the next week. We would spend the day at work and text each other all day long. She would come back to my apartment and we’d eat dinner and talk about our days and usually fool around a little in bed. But then she would want to go out and party. Every. Single. Night. And I would go out with her because she begged me to and waved those hypnotic eyelashes at me, but I would normally just end up sitting at a table by myself by the end of the night. And then her drunk ass would say that I was a boring person and could never break loose and have fun.
She said she liked the constant partying because it made her forgot about work. She could just get a buzz from drinking and then dance her worries away. She would still be hungover the next day, which allowed her to get through work with minimal stress. I loved the more positive and fun side of her, but not like this.
I felt like her chaperone, not her girlfriend. Or whatever this thing between us was.
I could easily just tell her to go get herself a hotel room and then say that it was over. She would go back to where she was from the next week anyway. It would save a lot of heartbreak. But that’d mean I would never be able to touch her again. My heart and mind told me to let her go but my body wanted her to stay. The way she made me feel was enough to convince me to let her stay.
So I was going to just suck it up and go watch her party every night. And maybe if I kept the image of her taking off her clothes in front of me when we went home in my head, it would keep me from walking out.
And it worked. I was able to fake my way through. Until one night, when she requested we go to a strip club. She also requested we go to a men’s strip club, because although she was attracted to girls, having guys shake their junk in her face got her horny, and it would heighten the pleasure of our sex that night.
Being the pushover that I am, I agreed. Fiery sex sparked my interest and I went along with her plan, no matter how much I didn’t want to.
The closest male strip club we could find was a sketchy little go-go bar, and the moment we arrived, she went into her own little world. It was like her entire personality changed within the blink of an eye. She immediately ordered drinks and we took our seats around a table where a guy in an American Flag thong was bumping and grinding his body against and around a pole. We watched him for a while, giggling l
ike little girls whenever he made eye contact with us.
I had to admit I was slightly enjoying this. Rachel actually seemed a little less crazy and more like herself. I watched her drink in the view of the man’s perfect body, and felt a little something like jealousy.
“You attracted to him?” I finally ask.
"I mean, he's very attractive," Rachel admits.
“But are you attracted to him?” I was getting antsy.
“What are you trying to say?” Rachel gets defensive.
“I mean, if he asked you, would you go screw him in the bathroom?” I blurt out, sounding a lot bitchier than intended.
Shit, she was super offended. “Excuse me? You think I’m a slut or something?”
“Whoa, ladies…” The man up on the table interrupts the argument. “No fighting needed…” He kneels down on the table and starts driving his crotch into the table’s surface.
Rachel looks at me with a fire in her eyes. “I told you. It turns me on.”
I take another look at the man and he winks at me. Spontaneously I take Rachel’s head in my hands and kiss her. She kisses back, and we melt into each other. The go-go dancer leans down even further and runs his hands through our hair, thrusting his hips basically into our faces. Rachel and I grab each other even harder, the heat rising.
The man moans and groans as an erection grows under his thong. I was slightly disgusted but it was kind of hot. Rachel and I’s lips finally separate and we fall back onto our seats, both hot and bothered. The man had a satisfied smile on his face and stood back up, not even ashamed of his obvious boner.
“Good job, ladies,” He winks at us before he continued dancing.
The next hour or so was decently fun. We changed tables every once and a while and made out in front of the strippers a few more times.
But at about midnight, Rachel kept ordering shots for our entire table, and began morphing into the avid partier that I hated. She drank an unbelievable amount of alcohol in the next hour and when I said I wanted to leave, she wouldn’t. If I was a heartless asshole I would’ve just left and let her take care of herself. But she was sloshed and I felt responsible for keeping her safe.
Around 2am, Rachel had officially become the complete opposite of herself. She was unhealthily drunk and kept on climbing up on the tables and thrusting against the dancers. I was thoroughly embarrassed, and as always, found a spot at a corner booth where I would spend the rest of the night.
Eventually, around 3:30am, Rachel woke me up and we got into a cab. She starts yelling at me but then I break out in a rage, “I can’t keep doing this! You want to go out and party every single fucking night and I am tired! I feel like your mom, with you getting so drunk everywhere we go. I love the person you truly are. And I know this party girl is not it. Now can we have a night out every once and a while? Of course. But I can’t keep doing this. I don’t want what we do in bed to be the only reason that I deal with you anymore. I want us to be more than just friends with benefits. But I can’t keep dealing with your drunk insults every night. And I wasn’t built for this kind of crazy lifestyle. So if you really think that this is the real you… I guess you should find someone else.” I act confident but really I’m breaking inside. I look away, careful to not let her see any tears.
She was completely silent for several long moments. She was probably too drunk to process any of that anyway.
“I’m… sorry…” She says under her breath. My face is still turned away. I won’t break that easy.
“I don’t know who this person is either… I guess I just… liked forgetting about everything.”
“I know,” I say, turning around, “But you don’t need to party and get drunk every night to do that.”
“What can I do to fix this?” She asks desperately.
I thought about it for a moment. “Let’s go out for dinner. Somewhere nice. Gotta make your last few nights in New York count.”
Rachel half-smiled. “Okay,” She goes in for a hug. “I’m sorry.”
I wrap my arms around her as she just kind of falls against me. She reeks of sweat and alcohol but I let her lay on me.
Back at my apartment, I make Rachel drink a tall glass of water and then lay her down in the bed. She immediately falls asleep and starts snoring. I sit next to her and push the strands of hair off of her gorgeous, sweaty face.
I couldn’t believe I had broken through with her. I never thought I would be strong enough to do something like that. And she actually listened. And wanted to fix what was wrong. What if this could actually work?
I laid down and stared at the ceiling, thinking about her and I, until my eyes couldn’t resist sleep any longer.
***
Boulevard Bistro was the perfect date spot. Mood lighting, romantic decor, jazz music, and delicious Italian food for a reasonable price. I decided it was a must-have for Rachel before she left the city.
“I really am sorry, Kelly. I guess I just got wrapped up in all the excitement. The city is literally hypnotizing, and once you get pulled in to the inner scene, it’s hard to escape the trance. And you made me feel… adventurous again. And I just took it a step too far.”
“And I’m sorry I can’t be that type of person for you. I just… my life is pretty boring but I think I’m okay with that. What I did with you was like enough excitement to last me years.” We both chuckle.
We both take a sip of our drinks and nibble on the breadsticks while making small-talk.
Eventually, Rachel takes my hands and looks me in the eye like she’s about to propose or something.
“I have something to tell you.”
“Oh?” My heart was racing.
“Yeah. I…”
“Kelly?” I hear someone calling my name from behind. I turn around and see a man walking towards me.
It’s Tom.
CHAPTER 6
Shit, shit, shit.
With everything that’s been going on over the last few weeks, I forgot to ever get back to him. My stomach sunk and I knew this wouldn’t end well.
Tom walks up to our table, looking quite dapper in a suit. He must’ve been at a business dinner of some sort.
“What are you doing here?” Tom asks.
“Just out with a friend,” I gesture to Rachel.
Rachel raises her eyebrows, “Just a friend?”
“I mean…” I suddenly run out of words.
“What’s going on here?” Tom asks suspiciously. “Also, why have you not answered me yet? Why have you been avoiding me?”
“Excuse me, who is this?” Rachel butts in.
“I’m her boyfriend, who just proposed.” Tom shoves in Rachel’s face.
Rachel looks at me, disgusted. “You have a fiancé?”
“Wait, who are you?” Tom asks Rachel like she’s being an inconvenience.
“I’m her girlfriend…”
“What the hell, Kelly?!” Tom yells.
“Yeah what is this shit?” Rachel also yells.
Several people around us give us a cautious glance before turning back to their own business.
“I was gonna say no, Tom.” Definitely wasn’t the best time for that to come out, but it did anyway.
Tom takes a step back, obviously hurt. He said nothing else except, “Oh.”
“I’m so sorry, Tom. You’re a good guy, just not the guy for me.” I admit. I grab the ring out of my back pocket, which is where I’ve kept it ever since he proposed, and hand it to him. “The right girl is out there for you.”
“Yeah… okay…” Tom turns around and slowly walks away, his head hung low.
“So I was practically the other woman?” Rachel speaks up.
“No… I never really wanted to marry him,” I twiddled my thumbs nervously.
“But you were still technically with him when we hooked up?”
I took a moment to think about a good answer, but couldn’t come up with anything that would made me look like a better person than I am.
�
��Technically, yes.” Rachel starts to get up but I stop her, “But we were already practically done. I didn’t love him.”
“Kelly, you still cheated on him. I may be a partier and somewhat of a whore, but sleeping with committed people is where I draw the line.” Rachel stands up and gets ready to leave.
“Rachel please…” I stand up, begging her not to go.
"And you know what the worst part is? I was about to tell you that I requested that my boss transfered me so I could stay in New York permanently. But I guess I'll just tell him never mind now." Rachel begins to walk away but stops and turns around once more. "But thank you for helping me find myself again. I won't forget that. Bye, Kelly."
I watch as Rachel walks away and exits the restaurant. I slump back into my seat, put my head in my hands, and cry. Never had my life went from so fabulous to so sucky in such a short period of time.
Even though I hadn’t even gotten dinner, I asked for the bill and then went home, curled up in a ball, and sobbed.
I felt like I was officially the world’s biggest asshole. My life was actually looking up, and I royally fucked it up. I spent the entire weekend in pajamas, eating ice cream, watching sappy romance movies, and balling my eyes out. Rachel was probably already back home at her snazzy job and Tom was most likely on a date with one of the many women who pined over him at work.
Tom could've had any of those girls. And he chose me. During the entire time we were dating, he never cheated. He stayed faithful even though other women were throwing themselves at him.
And Rachel. She was ready to uproot her entire life and move here to be with me. If that’s not an act of love, I don’t know what is. Our entire relationship was less than a month, but in that month I learned more about myself than I ever had.
Carl spent most of the weekend with me, just being there to listen to my pity rants and give his pieces of advice here and there.
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