Out from Under You

by Sophie Swift

  No. I’m living her life.

  All over again.

  It’s always Alex’s life. It’s never mine. And now I’m in her boyfriend’s apartment, combing my hair with her hairbrush, fucking the man she agreed to marry.

  Why can I never escape her?

  Why can I never climb out of her shadow?

  Even when I try to claim a life for myself, it’s still her life I’m claiming.

  I open the bottom drawer, stuff the hairbrush in, and bang it closed again. I have to get out of this bathroom.

  I turn to open the door and that’s when I hear it.

  Coming from the living room.

  A female voice. Soft, seductive, enchanting.

  “I missed you so much, baby.”

  Holy shitballs motherfucker.

  It’s Alex.

  And she’s inside this apartment.

  Alex’s hands are everywhere. In my hair, groping my ass, fondling my bare chest. I just barely had time to throw on a pair of jeans when I heard the key turn in the lock.

  “I’m glad to see you’re already half-naked,” she croons, seizing my bottom lip with her teeth. “It makes my job so much easier.” Her hands wander down to the button of my pants.

  I duck out of her reach. My heart is pounding like a jackhammer. “Uh, what are you doing home? It’s only been a day.”

  She scowls at my withdrawal but thankfully doesn’t comment on it. “Stupid idiots sent me to Vegas for nothing. I got there, discovered everything with the client was perfectly fine, and pretty much turned right back around.”

  My forehead creases. “I thought you said you went to San Francisco.”

  She shakes her head. “Yeah, I did. I’m so tired I can’t even remember where I am!” She sighs dramatically. “Anyway, I called you to tell you I was on my way home but it went straight to voicemail.”

  Crap. I forgot I turned my phone off this morning. I glance toward the bedroom, where my phone still sits. The door is open and I can just make out the bed…

  Fuck! The bed!

  It’s a disaster. Creased, misshapen pillows. Empty take-out containers strewn to the side. Sheets tangled and damp with sweat (and undoubtedly smelling of sex).

  The whole thing just screams raunchy twenty-four-hour fuck fest.

  I dive for the door and pull it shut.

  Nice, Grayson. Like that doesn’t look suspicious.

  “What’s gotten into you?” Alex asks, giving me a strange look.

  “Uh, nothing.” A fresh layer of sweat is coating my skin. “I…um…” I fumble for an excuse. Something to keep her out of the bedroom—and, more importantly, the bathroom. “…Toilet flooded and the super hasn’t called me back. It’s a mess in there. Trust me, you don’t want to see it.”

  Her scowl immediately morphs into a naughty grin as she swaggers toward me. “That’s okay. We always have the couch.” Her fingertip drags down my chest, swirling a slow circle around my belly button. “Or the chair. Or the dining room table. And let’s not forget about…” she leans in close, whispering hot and throaty in my ear, “…the kitchen floor.”

  I slink away from her again, covering the move with a cough. The walls in this apartment are ridiculously thin. I have no doubt Lia can hear our every word that’s being said from the bathroom.

  I have to get Alex out of here.

  “You know,” I say, trying to sound as casual as possible. “I’m so hungry. Let’s go get something to eat.”

  “After,” Alex decrees, reaching for my fly. “I missed your cock. Now whip it out.”

  Her hand is suddenly inside my jeans, stroking me. The way she knows I like it. I hate myself for getting hard. I hate myself for letting my eyes close, even for an instant.

  I clear my throat and pull her hand back up. “No seriously, babe. If I don’t eat something, I’m going to faint.”

  I watch her shoulders sag as she moves into pout mode. Alex is not used to hearing the word no. And I’m not used to saying it.

  “Fine,” she agrees. “Where do you want to go?”

  “India Palace?” I suggests hopefully. It’s close enough to walk, but far enough away to give Lia time to get the hell out of here.

  Alex makes a repulsed phlegmy sound with her throat. “Ick. Remember what happened last time we ate there?”

  “How about Thai Kitchen?”

  “I don’t feel like Thai. Besides that waiter was rude to me. I swore I wouldn’t go back there.”

  And here we go.

  “Baja Cantina?” I say, the frustration welling up inside me.

  “I just had Mexican last night.”

  I cannot let this turn into a four-hour decision-making process. I need to shut this thing down.

  “How about Pho?” I ask, sounding way more excited than I should about noodle soup. “You always love Pho.”

  Alex considers, her lips pursed to the side. I silently beg for her to agree.

  “Okay,” she replies, “I guess I could eat some Pho.”

  I exhale and wipe my damp forehead. “Okay, let me just put on a shirt and shoes. Wait here.”

  I disappear behind the closed bedroom door and dash into the bathroom. When I open it, Lia is sitting on the toilet, her knees drawn up to her chest, rocking slightly. When she sees me, her face brightens and she jumps up. She opens her mouth to speak but I hold a finger up to my lips.

  “I’m so sorry,” I whisper as quietly as I can. “Look. Maybe you should just go home.”

  I watch the smile vanish from her face. Like someone wiped it away with a chalkboard eraser. “But…”

  I shake my head. “I’m going to end it. But who knows how she’ll react. You know Alex. This could be a very long night. I think you should catch the last train and I’ll call you when it’s over.”

  Lia bites her lip, still looking slightly hurt. But eventually her head falls into a nod. “Okay,” she whispers.

  I lean in and gently press my mouth to hers. She tastes delicious. Like vulnerability and hope. When I pull back, she’s smiling again. “I’ll talk to you soon.”

  She nods again and her sweet, soft lips silently form the word “Bye.”

  Alex loops her arm through mine as we walk to our favorite Vietnamese restaurant. She’s unusually affectionate tonight. Almost as if she knows that I’m about to call off our entire life together.

  “It’s such a beautiful night, isn’t it?” she asks, squeezing herself closer to me. “I love the end of the summer in New York. When it’s not so freaking hot anymore, but not yet cold.”

  “Me, too,” I agree flatly. I stopped being able to feel my legs about three blocks ago. I’m just grateful my knees haven’t given out.

  This is it.

  I’m actually going to break up with Alex Smart.

  “You know where I think we should go for our honeymoon?” she says.

  I can’t bring myself to respond, so I just gurgle out some indecipherable noise.

  “Greece.”

  I look over at her in surprise. “Greece?”

  She smiles. “Yeah, didn’t you always say you wanted to go there?”

  “Yeah, but you said it looked dirty.”

  She shrugs. “I think I could be persuaded.”

  “I thought you’d want to go somewhere trendier. Like Fiji or St. Bart’s.”

  “I just want to be together.” She slips her hand down my arm and interlaces her fingers with mine. “The destination isn’t important.”

  That certainly doesn’t sound like Alex.

  We arrive at the restaurant and find our usual location in the back. Alex slides in next to me in the booth, resting her hand casually on my leg.

  My stomach is stuck on spin cycle. I feel like my veins are itching. I fidget restlessly with my chopsticks while Alex relays our usual order to the waiter.

  Just do it. Do it fast. Like ripping off a bandage.

  One, two…

  I turn to her, offering a diplomatic smile, but she speaks first. “Remember
the first time you took me here?”

  I nod, swallowing. “Of course.”

  She points to a table in the corner. “We sat there. And you pretended you knew how to speak Vietnamese.”

  I can’t help but chuckle at the memory. “I came in earlier that day and asked the staff to teach me a few phrases. I was trying to impress you.”

  She laughs. “It worked. I was like, ‘He learned Vietnamese in four years?’ It made me wonder what else you’d learned in the time we’d been apart.”

  “And?” I prompt, without thinking. “Did I learn anything else?”

  She squeezes my knee. “Did you ever. Gosh, we were so helpless back in high school. All awkward and fumbling.”

  Her eyes twinkle at me and I feel their relentless pull tugging at me. I blink and force myself to look away.

  Just do it and get it over with, I command myself. I take a sip of water, attempting to wet my parched throat.

  “I remember,” Alex is saying with a sweet, infectious laugh, “when we tried doggie-style for the first time.”

  I choke on my water, spitting it all over the table. Alex just giggles as I swipe napkins from the dispenser and mop up the mess. I glance around the semi-full restaurant.

  “Don’t worry,” she assures me, “no one is paying attention to us. Remember the first time we did it without a condom?”

  I feel a shiver run up my legs. “Yes,” I croak.

  She grins. “The look on your face when you slid into me, I swear I thought you were going to explode right then and there.”

  “It was pretty fucking amazing,” I agree.

  Her eyes lock into mine. “Because we were amazing. Together.”

  I want to argue that sex without a condom is pretty fucking amazing with any girl, but I refrain. Not only because I don’t want to upset her the minute before I tell her I don’t want to marry her, but also because there’s something about the way Alex is looking at me right now that is drying up the words in my mouth. Siphoning the breath directly from my lungs.

  “It’s kind of remarkable when you think about it,” she muses, her voice melodic and whimsical.

  I want to turn away. I want to break the connection. But for some reason, I just…can’t. I feel myself getting pulled into her eyes, her mouth, her universe. Just like the first time I saw her. The second time I saw her. And every time after that.

  Her face looks almost angelic in the soft light of the restaurant. I don’t even realize that I’m touching her face until my fingertip is already finished tracing her exquisite cheekbone.

  “What is?” I hear myself ask, as though I’m outside of my body, listening in.

  “The fact that everything we’ve ever done, we’ve done together. Not many couples can say that. When I look back at all the big moments in my life…you were there.” Her smile is radiant. Bewitching.

  And then her lips are on mine. The kiss isn’t ravenous or passionate. It’s gentle and tentative, reminding me that Alex has two sides to her. She always has. One is soft and tender and romantic, while the other is fierce and controlling and manipulative.

  I guess sometimes one side is so loud that it’s easy to forget about the other.

  NO!

  My mind is screaming at me.

  Don’t get sucked back into her!

  Don’t let her duplicitous nature fool you.

  You don’t want to be with her anymore!

  My mind is right. I need to focus. I need to do this. I hold an image of Lia in my mind. Her beautiful smile. Her ink-stained hand. Her head tipped back in ecstasy as she gasps for air.

  The memory emboldens me. Reminds me of what I’m here to do.

  I break free from Alex’s kiss and she rests her head on my shoulder. I glance over at the table in the corner, the one where we sat only a few months ago, when we first got back together. I remember how nervous I was bringing her here. How much I wanted her to like it. How much I wanted to make her happy.

  She’s the kind of girl who makes you want to bend over backward to please her.

  She always has been.

  A wave of emotion crashes down on me, followed by a wave of panic.

  Eight years.

  That’s how long I’ve known Alex Smart.

  And even in the four years we were apart, I never stopped knowing her. She still haunted my thoughts like a ghost. Her body still filled my mind at night when I touched myself. Her laugh still echoed in my ears when I’d recall a private joke we shared.

  Do it! I tell myself, before she sucks you in all over again.

  Do it now!

  I turn and lay a soft kiss on Alex’s head. “Baby,” I say gently, the sound of the endearment feeling hollow and treacherous on my lips.

  She lifts her head and gazes at me again, her eyes idyllic with just a hint of fatigue. “Hmm?”

  I swallow a lump the size of a planet and reach down to the very depths of who I am, who I’ve been for the past eight years, and who I want to become now. “I have something I need to talk to you about.”

  I tap my spoon against my coffee cup three times and place it down on the saucer. This is my third cup and I can’t tell if my hands are shaking due to the caffeine overdose or straight-up, old-fashioned nerves.

  My table in the corner of the restaurant has a clear view of the front door of Grayson’s apartment building through the window. I check the clock on my phone. It’s eight forty-five. They’ve been gone for a little over an hour and a half. Unless they went for a seven-course meal, they should be back any minute now.

  I know Grayson said I should just go home. But I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t leave him alone at a time like this. I know my sister too well. This is not going to be pretty. She’s going to completely lose it. Alex Smart does not take rejection lightly. And when it’s all over, Grayson’s emotions (not to mention possibly a few body parts) are going to be completely bruised and battered. He’s going to need support. He’s going to need a friend. And above all else, if there’s one thing Grayson and I have been for each other over the past eight years, it’s friends.

  So, after cleaning up the apartment, making the bed, opening up all the windows and trying to rid the place of the distinctive sex smell, I grabbed my overnight bag and came to this restaurant. I figured I would just wait here until he came home. Chances are Alex will be with him. A relationship that long and complicated doesn’t get tidily wrapped up and cauterized over a two-hour dinner. But that’s okay. I’m prepared to be patient. And the sign on the door says this place doesn’t close until midnight. Sooner or later, Alex will leave the building, most likely in a tornado-like huff, and then I’ll ring the buzzer and surprise him.

  I won’t expect anything. I won’t ask for anything. I will just be there for him.

  Because that’s what friends do.

  The waiter approaches the table for the fourth time since I sat down. “Are you sure you don’t want to order anything else?” he asks, sounding hopeful.

  I shake my head. “Sorry. No. Just the coffee.”

  He turns and walks away and I just manage to catch the flash of annoyance on his face as he goes. I feel bad taking up such a prime-location table for this long, and not even ordering food. I’ve worked in the restaurant business long enough to know that I am just about the worst customer a waiter can have. But the idea of even smelling food right now—let alone swallowing it—makes me want to hurl. But I plan to give him a really big tip when this is all over, which alleviates my guilt somewhat.

  Besides, these are extenuating circumstances. It’s not every day your lifelong love breaks up with his girlfriend/fiancée/your sister in order to be with you. I mean, come on, these kinds of scenarios don’t come along every day. That’s gotta earn me at least another hour at this table.

  I glance at my phone again. Eight-fifty. And yet another missed call from Danika. That’s the sixth one since yesterday afternoon. No doubt she’s trying to find out how my trip to the city has been going.

  But I h
aven’t called her back. Somewhat because I don’t want to take the chance that I might miss Alex and Grayson returning, but mostly because I don’t yet know how my trip to the city went. And I won’t know for sure until this is all over.

  I swipe the missed call clear from my screen and take another sip of coffee. Just as I’m setting the cup back down on the saucer, I see them.

  Grayson and Alex walking up Madison Avenue.

  My whole body stiffens.

  This is it.

  I sit up straighter, even though I don’t really know why. It’s not like they can actually see me. But my body sags back down when I notice that Grayson’s arm is slung around Alex’s shoulder and her body is huddled against his. Like she’s using him as a shield from non-existent rain.

  Why do they look so…so…

  Cozy?

  It’s fine, I assure myself. He’s probably just consoling her. She’s probably an emotional wreck and he’s being the sweet, kind, loving man that he’s always been.

  But then I watch as Grayson tilts his head back and lets out a loud, good-humored laugh. True, I can’t actually hear the sound coming out of his mouth, but from the look on his face, it’s definitely one of those boisterous “I can’t believe you’re so funny” kind of laughs.

  He squeezes her tighter against him and dips down to gently place his lips on hers.

  And for that moment, the world stops.

  I stop breathing.

  They stop walking.

  And, although it’s probably just my imagination, the cars on the street seem to stop whizzing past.

  It’s as though everything—everyone—has been halted by this romantic, spellbinding, what-the-fuck kiss.

  When I can finally move again, the first thing I do is choke. And I don’t mean like a polite, Victorian-era, handkerchief-to-the-mouth-type cough. I mean like honest-to-goodness, hacking-up-a-lung gagging. It’s so violent and hideous that customers at surrounding tables turn to stare at me.

  I wave to let them know that I’m okay and reach for my cup, swallowing my reaction with another sip of bitter coffee.

  Outside the window, Grayson and Alex have broken from their dreamy, curbside lip lock and are entering Grayson’s building. I lean forward, counting the seconds—fifty-three—until the light in apartment 4D (four floors up and two from the far left) illuminates.