by LK Collins
“Seriously, that’s how you’re going to play this? You told me a little while ago that you would transfer.”
“No, you heard what you wanted to. My exact words were, ‘I’ll talk to Mack.’”
“Why are you doing this?”
“I’m not doing anything. You’re the one who’s got the issues with me because I did you a favor.”
***
The table keeps getting blurrier as I hold the tiny white ping pong ball in my hand. I’m not sure if I’ll be able to make it into one of the cups or not, but as I bounce it on the wood and it goes in again, I find satisfaction knowing that Nixon is going to have to drink another cup of beer because of me. The final round is down to the two of us. He now has three cups left in front of him and I have six. Macey is sleeping on Guy’s chest on my couch, and Luke is reheating himself something to eat in the kitchen. It’s amazing what the power of alcohol does to make you be able to tolerate time with someone you loathe.
“You know you can give up now,” I tease him.
“No, fuck that. You give up.”
“No way!”
We continue to shoot back and forth, both of us relentless, neither of us backing down, and he hits a few of my cups, while I only make it in one more of his. Luke comes over to me with a plate of food that I eyeball, and he sticks something from it in my mouth. Looking over at Nixon as I take it from his fingers, I can tell he tenses.
Oh my God, he’s fucking jealous.
I smile, chewing, and he shoots his ball, missing my cups. “Give me another bite?” I ask Luke and he sticks a chip covered in dip into my mouth, and as I chew it, I look Nixon in the eye, surprised to see him tense the way he does each time Luke feeds me. I shoot my ball, landing it right in his cup.
“You fucker,” he sneers at me and I wink at him as Luke continues to share his food.
“Let me try some of that,” I tell him, not even sure why I’m trying to make Nixon jealous—maybe so I can hurt him, like he’s done to me. He shoves more food in my direction. Clearly we are all drunk, and I hear the ball hit the table then bounce and hit the floor. I look at it roll away and ask him, “You sure you don’t want to quit?”
He shakes his head, keeping his eyes locked on mine, and I aim for his last cup focusing hard on it, but I miss.
“Hey, Luke, could you grab me another beer, bro?” Nixon asks him, and he nods, walking off. I glance back as he tosses his plate in the trash, then realize Nixon only wanted Luke away from me. He’s got beer right in front of him to drink; he doesn’t need more.
“You wanna forfeit before I shoot this?” I ask again, giving him one last chance.
“What’s in it for me?”
“Nothing!”
“Then I don’t wanna forfeit shit.” He leans over, bracing his weight on the table, his forearms flexing as his body hovers over the cups. He has such an amazing body, and my mind flashes back to him naked and his cock. Luke walks up to him, handing him a beer as I struggle to get my head straight. He takes the beer right as I throw the ball, unfortunately missing.
With a grin from ear to ear, Nixon unleashes a bunch of lucky shots on my remaining cups. My throat burns from all the beer, and I look over at him speechless. Luke gives him a high five, like he’s on his side, and I flip them off. When did these two become all buddy-buddy? Macey wakes from the sound of the two guys’ hands slapping together and asks, “What time is it?”
I look at the clock, squinting my eyes, but it doesn’t help. I can’t read it. “It’s one thirty,” Nixon tells her and Macey asks Luke, “Are you ready to get going, birthday boy?”
“Sure,” he says, looking at me. I can see he doesn’t want to go; he wants to stay. But I’m in no shape for entertaining—I’m too drunk—and with Nixon being back, the feelings I was having for Luke…are fading away. This is all so confusing. I should ask Luke to stay, it’s his birthday after all. My mind is telling me to go with Luke, to give him a chance and see where things would go. He wouldn’t hurt me, that much I know. He is the right choice, the safe choice. But my heart is pulling me in the other direction. Even if I get dragged through the depths of hell, it’s telling me it’ll all be worth it in the end. That’s how strong the bond that Nixon and I shared was.
Luke hugs me for far too long, and as I hold him back, waiting for the spark, that attraction, it doesn’t come and I can see the disappointment in his eye. The three of them leave and I figure Nixon will do the same, but he doesn’t. He’s staring at me as he shuts my door then asks me, “So what, you like him?”
“Who?” I question him, stalling knowing he means Luke, but not sure if I should tell him or not.
“Luke. You like him, or what? He’s clearly into you. I can see he wants to fuck your tight pussy.”
“Oh my God!” I yell at him, my words slurred from so much alcohol. But his words have me clenching my thighs. As much as I don’t want to admit it…they do. I should totally tell him that Luke and I fucked…it would hurt him. But, it won’t help anything, and that’s not the kind of person I am. No matter how bad Nixon hurt me, I won’t stoop to his level. “No way, he’s my friend, end of story.”
“Then, what am I?” he asks, stepping a little too close for my comfort. My face flushes, the control he used to have over me is trying to scratch its way to the surface.
“You’re the asshole who broke my heart.”
“That’s it? That’s all I am?”
“Nixon, I can think of a lot of other words to call you, but I’m exhausted.”
All of a sudden he swoops me off my feet and I gawk at him, wanting to fight him to put me down, but his hands on me feel so good, just the way they used to and I fuckin’ miss it. My body is cradled against his hard chest. Jesus, he got big. “What the fuck are you doing?” I ask while he carries me into my bedroom.
“I’m taking you to bed.”
“No! Let me down.”
“Would you shut the fuck up and stop being such a nag for once? I’m not going to do shit to you.”
I didn’t expect him to respond like that. What am I supposed to say back to him? As my body sways from the motions, he tenderly lays me on top of my bed.
Taking a seat on the edge next to me, he looks down at me. His blue eyes glimmering in the low light of my room. My eyes are heavy as deep blinks take over and I quickly lose focus on him. But I can still feel his hand as he runs his fingers through my hair, the same way he used to. It was my favorite. I hold on to the feeling and cognizance for as long as I can, relishing in his touch again. But my body drifts off to sleep, and as I slip from the awareness of reality he says something…
Chapter 8
Nixon
“Oh fuck!” someone mumbles next to me and I wrack my brain to recall what happened last night. What’s her name, what’s her name? Fuck, I really need to get better with names. Maybe I should write them on my arm or something.
Then out of nowhere, I’m being pushed out of the bed and open my eyes to see a very angry Cameron looking at me. “Get out!” she yells and I grab both of her wrists stopping her crazy outburst. She’s strong as hell as she fights against me, but I’m stronger. “What’s your problem, girl?” I question her, holding her in my grip.
“You! You are! Why are you here, in my bed?”
Her chest is moving up and down, her large tits lively as she’s fighting me to let her go and I find myself staring at them. “You sure you didn’t get a boob job?”
My comment pisses her off even more, and she starts to buck and fight wildly for me to release her. “Let me go!” she screams.
“No! Answer the question.”
“I hate you, Nixon!”
“Oh, hate’s a strong word, baby.”
We wrestle back and forth, all while I have a constant grin on my face. Jesus, I love getting a rise out of her and playing with her like this. Then before I know it, she’s on her back and I’m straddling her body. Both of us are still
clothed from the day before, but being this close to her again, like this, has my dick throbbing. Then she starts to buck underneath me and I ask her, “If I let your hands go, will you stop?”
“If you get out of my bed.”
“Why? We already fucked last night!” I tell her, messing with her, and she freezes, her face turning white like she’s seen a ghost.
“What are you talking about?”
“You don’t remember?”
“Nixon, why would you take advantage of me like that?” She’s mortified and I tell her, “You took advantage of me. I was asleep and you fucked me so good with that sweet pussy of yours. God, I missed it.”
She looks like she’s about to cry and I stop messing around. “Would you lighten up? Nothing happened last night. We both passed out. That’s it.”
Letting go of her, she pushes me aside, then scrambles off the bed. “I’m going to shower. By the time I get out, I want you gone.”
Still sitting on her bed, I watch her walk off, her round ass jiggling with each step.
She doesn’t look at me as she slams the door, and I lie back on her bed, not wanting to leave. The truth is, I don’t like doing anything she tells me to.
My phone vibrates in my pocket, and I look to see my mom calling.
“Hey, Ma.”
“I hope you didn’t forget about your grandma’s birthday.”
“Of course I didn’t. I’m going to get her a gift today.”
“Good, and you’re still coming to the party?”
“Yeah, I’ll be there.”
“Okay, baby, it’s so good to have you back home. I love you, Nixon.”
“Love you too, Ma.”
We hang up and I get off Cameron’s bed to leave, but as I walk towards the bedroom door, I see another picture of her, Conner, and I. It was taken the summer before we left. She’s got the biggest smile on her face as my arms are wrapped tightly around her body and my chin is resting on the top of her head.
Lifting it up, so I can get a better look, that day comes flooding back into my mind, like it was yesterday. We didn’t have a fucking stress in the world. It was always the three of us having fun. We were at my aunt’s house when this was taken, reminding me how much my family loved both Cameron and Conner.
Getting a wild idea, I follow my gut knowing I’ve got nothing to lose and walk into her bathroom.
She peers out from behind the shower curtain, and I wink as I pull my dick out and lift her toilet seat draining the rest of last night’s beer. Her eyes stay on my dick for a few seconds before she tosses the curtain closed. I tease her, “You like what you see?” Then I grab her toothbrush and toothpaste. She peeks out again; I catch her in the reflection of the mirror. “Oh my God, you’ve got to be kidding me.”
“What?” I ask as I begin to brush my teeth.
“You just make yourself at home, don’t you?”
“Is that a problem?” I respond through a mouthful of suds.
“Why are you still here?”
I shrug my shoulders, wanting to invite her to come with me to get my grandma a gift today, but the sudden fear of rejection stops me from asking her. Which isn’t like me.
Leaning back against the sink, I look in her direction, wondering what things would be like had I not left years ago. Would we still be together or would we have gone our separate ways? Would I be the same as I was back then, or still ended up fucked up, like I am now?
The shower turns off and she asks, “Would you hand me a towel?” Still brushing my teeth, I grab her a towel and place it in her outstretched hand that is sticking out from behind the curtain.
Not able to help myself, I peer in at her. She’s so gorgeous, fucking beautiful as ever. I finish brushing my teeth right as she gets out. She leaves the bathroom as if I have the plague and heads straight into her closet. I go into the kitchen and start a pot of coffee, knowing she can’t hide in there forever.
As I wait for her to come out, I spot her phone and can’t help myself from looking at it. There are a few missed text message from Luke, Guy, Macey, and Seth. I’m tempted to go into them, but know I have no right to. So I instead program my number in case she ever needs me…or gets lonely. The coffee finishes and I pour us each a cup. When she finally appears, I tell her, “I made coffee.”
“Jesus, why are you still here?”
“I have a question for you.”
She rolls her eyes, taking a sip of the coffee and then begins to clean up from the night before.
“I’d really rather you leave.”
“Would you?” I ask her.
“Yes.”
“Come on, Cam, we’re going to be working together every day. You’ve gotta forgive me.”
She whips around, her wet hair flying. “No, we are not going to be working together. You said you’d put in for a transfer.”
“I’m not gonna do that.”
“Why the fuck not?” she scoffs at me.
“Why should I? Because we used to fuck and you can’t get over the fact that I broke up with you?”
“Is that really all you thought of us, that we fucked? Do you not remember what we were?”
I’ve done my best to bury all my memories of Cameron and what we were, to move on in life, to ease my own pain and regret, so everything that we were is really a blur. Every now and then when I dig deep or see a picture like I have being at her house, I get bits and pieces back. “Cam—”
“Don’t! Would you stop fucking calling me that?”
“Why? These guys you work with can do whatever they want. They can flirt with you and feed you and call you ‘Cam,’ but you can’t even have a conversation with me?”
She stops cleaning and walks up to me, standing only a few inches from my face. Her eyes are glassy…she’s tired. “You wanna fuckin’ talk, then talk,” she yells.
I swallow, her scent invading me, making it hard to focus. It brings back so many memories that I’ve worked so hard to forget. I breathe her in again, getting lost in my own head as I close my eyes, and she says, “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”
Grabbing the back of her head, I pull her lips to mine, molding my mouth over hers, controlling her the way she likes. She stays still for a moment, but then fights back and pushes me away.
Storming past me, she yanks open her door and says, “Leave! Now!” As much as I don’t want to, she’s got the same look in her eye as she did when I left her to join the Navy—hurt, anger, betrayal. Going forward, no matter what I do, that is how she’s going to always look at me.
Chapter 9
Cameron
One of the best things I love about my life is my job. Well…that was before Nixon became my new crewmate. As I finish stocking the inventory of medical supplies for the day, I’m grateful that this is our last shift of the week, especially because all I’ve heard the past four days is Nixon being all friendly with Guy.
“Here,” Luke says walking up and handing me a coffee. “I tried to call you last night.”
“I crashed early. I’ve been exhausted lately.”
“Were you alone?” he asks me.
“Yeah, why?”
“No reason.” Guy and Nixon walk up to us and Nixon asks, “Where’s our coffee?”
“I texted him and asked him to bring it for me.”
“And you didn’t ask us?” Guy states.
“That’s lame. Come on, Guy, I’ll make ya a cup,” Nixon tells him and they walk off laughing. It’s like the two of them have worked together for years.
Luke goes to change and my attention is drawn to Nixon, my mind giving me a flashback to his lips on mine as he grabbed me and kissed me and then how I angrily pushed him away.
God, I wish Seth hadn’t left.
Things would be so much easier if they went back to how they were a few weeks ago. Even if Nixon were working here but was on another crew, it would be better. But I’m not about to go to Mack and complain
‘cause all that will do is get my ass yelled at. He won’t move Nixon; his motto is, you got a problem, work through it as a team.
As Guy and Luke get positioned in the cockpit, Nixon and I take our seats in the back. I really hope today goes by fast ‘cause I need to unwind tonight and to do it away from Nixon. Upon lift off, we get a call over the radio of an injured person on a vessel seven miles out. Luke talks with the dispatcher and confirms that we’ll take the call.
I listen over the radio to the details of what we are about to go into. “Male, age fifty-three, right leg impaled by a swordfish.”
Jesus, this happens all the time.
Guy pushes the chopper to the max and says, “T minus three minutes until arrival.”
“You want me to go down?” Nixon asks me.
“No, why?” I question him back. Does he think I can’t do my job?
“‘Cause you’ll have to saw the bill off the fish before bringing the patient up.”
“I’ve done it before. This will be my—”
“She’s got this shit,” Luke cuts me off and it’s the truth. We get these calls all the time, being as close as we are to the Gulfstream. A lot of amateur fishermen head out and don’t realize the power and danger these fish possess.
“T minus one minute,” Guy responds and I unstrap. Nixon does the same, helping me with my harness, and I look to the side, not paying attention to his hands on my waist, as I try pushing down my heart rate.
Upon arriving on the scene, there is a ton of blood all over the boat. Opening our tool bag, I remove the jigsaw and pop a fresh battery on it. Nixon takes it from me and places it in the basket, and then I begin my descent.
Looking down as Nixon lowers me, there is a crew on deck that greets me. Normally I’d be filled with adrenaline and excitement to save someone’s life. But today…I’m just blah. Once my feet are firmly planted on their boat, I remove the drop line so Nixon can send the basket down to me. I signal to tell him that I am clear and then ask the men on board, “How long ago did this happen?”