Dirty Talk

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Dirty Talk Page 39

by S. L. Scott


  “No harm in trying.”

  “Nope,” I reply, reassuring her with a smile. “No harm done.” I move off to the side so I’m standing face to face with my pretty green-eyed girl. Her cheating fiancé weighs on my mind though, so I lift the bag of food just a little. “Want to eat dinner together?”

  Her smile lights up her entire face in response. “I’d like that.” And once again I’m so confused to what is going on with this mysterious woman.

  We go to the bar where her food is delivered and settle at a tall table near the window. We unpack our dishes and I notice her order is for one. For one, but she said she was heading home. Hmm? Sipping my beer, I watch her, trying to figure out what the real deal is. Her lashes shadow her pretty greens. There’s a light pink to her cheeks as she looks up at me.

  When I greet her with a grin that I’ve been struggling to control, she looks away, but a smile is followed by a giggle from her.

  “What’s so funny?” I ask.

  “I got lost in the moment.”

  “What moment was that?”

  “The one where I forgot about our breakup and all the water that’s flowed under this bridge.” She sighs, but she’s not entirely sad. “I forgot about that and was simply enjoying the company.”

  “I did that last night.”

  “Me too.” Setting her fork down, she spins the stem of her wine glass around watching the liquid coat the sides and slide back down. When her eyes meet mine, she confesses, “I shouldn’t have left.”

  I set my fork down and lean my elbows on the table. Resting my chin on my knuckles, I ask, “Why did you?”

  “Because I shouldn’t have been there.”

  “There was nothing wrong with you being with me. That’s in your head. Tell me, Jane. What’s in your heart?”

  Her eyes hold mine until the pressure builds and she looks away, adjusting the napkin in her lap. “You know we shouldn’t talk about things like that.”

  “All I know is that I liked last night.”

  “You’re not looking at the big picture. Last night was just another good time to you, so it’s easy for you to see the silver lining whether it’s right or wrong.”

  “I do see the silver lining when it comes to us and I don’t know why you’re so resistant to this, to me, when we feel so right.” I reach over and take her hand from the glass and hold it. “Tell me we’re wrong and I won’t push.”

  “We’re wrong, Luke. We gave it a shot and it was a solid one. Ten years is a long time.”

  I take my hand back, but push even though I promised not to. “But?”

  “But we didn’t work out. That’s the bottom line. We didn’t work.”

  “Bullshit.”

  Her eyes go wide and she laughs. “Always the optimist, even on something as hopeless as we are.”

  “Until you say ‘I do’ to someone else, I’ll hold out that hope.”

  A smile plays at the corners of her lips, but she refuses to give in to her own happiness. “What if it’s not about me, but you?”

  “What does that mean?”

  “You’re forgetting I came back once…” She looks away again, this time uncomfortable. Anger tinges her tone when she says, “Why do we have to do this every time?”

  “We don’t.” She shuts it down anytime we get close to opening the wounds and digging deep to heal us. It’s so damn frustrating. “That’s the problem. It’s always hot and cold with you.” I should tell her what I saw earlier tonight, but how does what she did with me differ? The whole situation is fucked up and I don’t know how to repair it.

  “The problem is you see things your way and I see them mine and they’re just two different ways.” Taking her purse in hand and holding it tightly to her, she says, “I got the email about the production schedule changing. With filming in a month, I have another script I need to finish and stuff to take care of before I leave for Austin. Every time I see you, my mind gets muddled and I can’t afford to lose sight of what’s important to me, so I think it’s best if we don’t see each other before then.”

  “Because I’m so distracting?” I cock a smirk.

  She’s playing hardball and tilts her head not amused by my charms. “Because it’s not good for me to spend time with you.”

  “For your heart or your head?”

  “Both.” She turns and walks out of the restaurant.

  I have sure things giving me their numbers and I’m choosing the only woman who doesn’t want me. She enjoyed last night but apparently spending time with me is a waste. I’m puzzled when it comes to understanding her. This whole mess is so fucking frustrating. I toss some money down to cover the clean up of the table and head out. My appetite diminished the second she left.

  While driving home, I recognize how much she’s changed from the girl I once knew. She used to want to talk about everything the minute she was upset. She wanted to talk it out and resolve it, but she struggled to express her real feelings, hoping to spare mine. Apologies came fast and we never went to bed mad.

  We rarely argued. It makes me wonder if that’s why we fell apart. I wasn’t aware of what was going on in her life while she was keenly aware of what was going on in mine. She tried to save us, to wake me up to the reality of what was happening. I wish I’d seen it, recognized I was losing her. We were growing apart and I let it happen. I was too caught up in stuff that didn’t matter to see I was losing what did. I love my career, but I loved her more. And that hasn’t changed.

  These days, she speaks her mind and even comes around uninvited. That’s not the actions of someone who doesn’t want to see you, to spend time with you. That’s the opposite, in fact.

  I fucked up when I didn’t give her the commitment she wanted, the commitment I had already made in my heart. I fucked up when I didn’t see she was ready to come back to me. I missed the signal, didn’t read between the lines of what she was really saying. Her actions were telling me, even if she wasn’t.

  If only I hadn’t gone out that night last year to forget about the one girl I thought I’d lost forever. I fucked up my future with Jane on a one-night stand with Jeanette. Fuck! Ironically, now she’s telling me everything I want to hear: I’m distracting, I’m affecting her, that it’s about me holding us back now…

  I’m pulling into the garage just as my phone lights up with a text message. I take the phone with me as I get out and look down in the dark of the garage.

  Jane: I’m sorry.

  It’s good to see not everything has changed. I walk inside thinking about how I want to respond. She doesn’t owe me an apology. If anything, I owe her ten. With the lights still off, I lean against the kitchen counter and type.

  Me: For what?

  Jane: For leaving without saying goodbye.

  Me: Would saying goodbye change the outcome?

  Jane: Probably not.

  I didn’t think so. I don’t worry about the lack of goodbye tonight. I worry about a goodbye forever.

  Me: I liked last night.

  What I really want to text is that I loved seeing her body again, touching her body again, loving her body again. But I can’t. Not yet.

  Jane: I liked last night too.

  Me: I hated this morning.

  Jane: I hated leaving that bed.

  Riddles. I want to know she hated leaving me. Not the damn bed. Me: It’s not “that” bed. It’s MY bed.

  Jane: I’m sorry.

  With the spy mission from earlier in the night still weighing on my mind, I debate if this is how I should tell her—through texts. Closing my eyes, I rub my forehead, debating if I should tell her or not. I know the right thing to do, but we’re already so out of sync. Do I want to make it worse?

  Lawrence Reinstardt was supposed to be a rebound. Nothing more. I wasn’t going to hold him against her when we got back together. I was so fucking naïve. Together? I didn’t imagine when she walked out that it was forever. He got to her. He wore her down. She’s not weak, but I know she was broken. It wa
s just like his style to prey on her and take advantage of a bad situation. Fucker. She was mine. She was always meant to be mine. Somehow things just got muddled between us along the way.

  I don’t want to break her heart even if she is breaking mine. This isn’t how I want to win her back. I’m not Lawrence and I won’t put her in a position to choose. That would be setting her up to hurt someone and it might just be me. I need to let her handle her business—personally and professionally—and then in Austin, we’ll talk again.

  Me: I think you’re right.

  Jane: About?

  Me: I think it’s best if we take this time apart to take care of business before filming begins.

  She doesn’t respond right away, but when she does, she sends: I understand. Please know I really am sorry.

  Typing a final message, I pause before I push send: Me too, Jane. Me too.

  She doesn’t respond again. And I understand why. She has to fix this messy life she’s leading. I add to her chaos and don’t want her feeling divided. If we get a second… or third chance, I’m not going to ruin it by delivering bad news to her. We will be because we were meant to all along. I know that now.

  If Jane Lewis just so happens to be single again soon, she won’t be for long. That is a promise.

  CHAPTER 10

  ~Jane~

  TIME DOESN’T HEAL old wounds. It distorts them. Twists your memories so you forget the truth and see the extremes. Love or hate. Those are the only two emotions left to comfort me after all this time.

  One or the other.

  Changing, depending on the day. The hour. The minute.

  Sitting on the floor of my hotel room, I rummage through my jewelry box looking for something very specific. It’s been a week since I last saw Luke and I feel the need for a reminder of the good times. I find what I’m looking for underneath a light blue ribbon. Running the satin ribbon through my fingers, I remember when Luke gave me the corsage it once adorned for junior prom. With a lump in my throat, I set it aside and take the ring out, slipping it on my left hand ring finger.

  I can’t stop the smile that covers my face when I look down at my hand. The sapphire and diamond ring sparkles in the sunlight shining in from the window nearby. This ring comes with a broken promise, but I still love it, treasure it deeper than I should. Even now it’s a symbol of us, of where we are in our relationship—broken cracks where promises slip through and love remains. I treasure him deeper than I should too.

  It was all so simple back then. Our lives and the circumstances were easy with no real life problems or roadblocks, responsibilities, or regrets burdening us. If I were twenty again, I wouldn’t change anything. I would go through the happy, the sad, the love, the fights, the growing up and growing together stages with Luke over again because even though we aren’t together now and he couldn’t give me the happily ever after I needed, loving him each day was worth it.

  * * *

  ANOTHER FEW WEEKS pass and I don’t text Luke, or call. I should since he’s on my mind all the time, like the ring has stayed on my finger. I like seeing it when I type, my heart swooning like the characters from the script. I respect his wishes. We take my suggestion to give it time. I thought it would fix me, allow me to forget the women he’s been with. I should. I don’t even have a right to be mad, but it’s not mad I’m dealing with. It’s hurt and I feel betrayed. I’m not fixed. That much is clear, so I must protect the rest of my heart that remains unclaimed.

  What am I doing? Sighing, I should take the ring off, but I can’t seem to part with it. Wiggling my finger, I hold it up in the air and continue admiring the pretty token of love. I’m tempted to keep wearing it. Just around the hotel room. Just for me.

  So I do.

  I pack my suitcases and close them. Carrying the jewelry box, I set it gently in one of two boxes that contains my whole life. Two suitcases and two boxes. It’s not a lot to show for a life that feels lived in.

  When I walked out on Luke, I left belongings we shared behind just like our lives. I thought I would be back. I couldn’t bear to take our stuff and live with it elsewhere. Could he? Did he?

  The rest was delivered to my mom’s house—two boxes of stuff from photos to stuffed animals to yearbooks all carefully packed away that now lives in her attic.

  I take the suitcases by the handles and load both into my car. When I return for the last box, I stop and look around. This suite, the size of my first apartment I shared with Luke, has been home for too long. It’s time to move on. After one more look around, I leave this refuge, this place that gave me a new start, one last time. I stop by the front desk to say goodbye to the never-too-friendly clerk and set the key on the counter.

  I have nothing holding me back. Only the future awaits. Driving to Texas is a good option for me. I never found an apartment or a house I wanted anyway. So I’m leaving nothing behind but a past it’s time to move on from. As I pull away from the extended-stay hotel, I look in the rearview mirror, and then focus forward.

  New adventures are on the horizon. Texas here I come.

  An hour later, I’m still in LA.

  Annoyed.

  Stupid traffic.

  I turn on the classical music station and try to relax. With a long twenty-four hours of driving ahead of me, I can’t get upset before I’ve even left this smoggy city.

  Three hours later, I dry my hands, leave the barely passable-as-clean bathroom, and go inside the mini-mart for road trip supplies. I walk the aisles twice before grabbing peanut butter M&M’s, a churro from the machine, a bottle of soda, a larger bottle of water, and sour cream and onion chips.

  My passenger seat is littered with craptastic foods and I take off on my journey again.

  Another hour passes and I’ve sung through the latest Keith Urban album including unwelcome squirming in my seat when certain songs played. The memories of the night with Luke affect my body as well as my mind. I think of him too often to be healthy. Even the manuscript I just submitted to my agent has a hero that he might have inspired.

  …embrace your soul, and coax the moon and stars to shine inside.

  My body clenches. Who am I kidding? All my heroes have pieces, lines, and inspirations from him. I grew up with Luke. He was my first kiss. My first date. My first dance with a boy. My first make-out session. The person I lost my virginity to, and coincidentally the last one I was with as well.

  Lawrence was only meant to play a minor character in a subplot to my life’s arc. I see that now. When did I lose the major plot?

  How could I have been so blind to what Luke wanted and didn’t want? I’m guilty of taking our relationship for granted. But it’s not like he didn’t participate in our daydreaming. We had talked about marriage and kids, rescuing a stray from the pound, and the home we’d all live together.

  Time apart. I should have seen that one coming. Sure, I suggested it, but if he really wanted to be with me, he wouldn’t have agreed.

  He’s sly with his smooth-talking and sexy self. He’s well aware of how desirable he is and uses that against females. He’s no more committed to a future with me than he was back then. So we fooled around. So what? He does that all the time, just scratch out my name and fill in the next.

  He let that dream slip away years ago…

  The scenery outside the car looks the same from Arizona into New Mexico. With the sun’s brightness sending a prism of lights reflecting off the ring, the beauty reminds me of when he gave it to me…

  The rain has soaked my clothes, but I still have two blocks to go before I’m home. I usually don’t mind the walk to the stop where I catch the bus that takes me to school. I only have to take it on days Luke has his internship at Warner Brothers Studio. I get the car on other days for my shifts at the coffee shop. We’re too broke for two cars and my mom helps with school as much as she can, but she can’t afford to cover a car and insurance in addition to that. Luke’s parents added me to their policy for his car. I’m part of their family as they are m
ine.

  But the rain… it’s not fun when I’m trying to protect my books in the backpack I’m carrying. My umbrella isn’t big enough to cover both, so I sacrifice my hair and shirt to keep the pack dry.

  I reach the apartment and shake out the umbrella leaving it to dry on the front porch. I slip off my wet lace-up boots and set them neatly in the corner next to the door. I’ll bring them in later when they dry out.

  The apartment is dark. We both left early this morning, making sure to turn out the lights so we don’t waste electricity. I find the kitchen light switch and flick it on while heading to turn on the bathtub water. I’m shivering from the wet clothes and quickly discard them in the washer.

  The bath water is warm and comforting, wiping away the chill from my bones. I sink deeper until my toes bob and my chin is resting on the surface. I dip all the way under, holding my breath. Emerging when I need air, I gasp when I break the surface. My lids open and Luke is leaning against the bathroom door, smiling. “Hey.”

  “Hey.” Grinning, I ask, “How long have you been standing there?”

  “Long enough. I thought I was gonna have to come in there and rescue you.”

  “You still can and then you can give me mouth to mouth.”

  Though we’re flirting, his tone is more serious, his eyes fixed on me. “Would you like that?”

  I nod as he comes closer to the tub. “I would.”

  He wastes no time. Luke steps in—socks and jeans, button-up shirt—right into the bathtub causing the water to slosh over the sides as he kneels down around me. I shout in excitement, “Luke!”

  He laughs and takes my face in his hands, a huge grin on his that matches mine. “Let me love on you, baby.” He kisses me.

  Holding on to the edge of the tub for support, my grip keeps me grounded when he makes me want to soar. When our lips part, he says, “I got you something.”

  “What is it?”

  He reaches into the pocket of his shirt and pulls out a ring. “It’s more than a promise ring, Jane.”

 

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