Wet Part 3

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Wet Part 3 Page 20

by Rivera, S. Jackson


  “Ew! Why would you do that? That doesn’t make any sense at all.”

  “She offered. It sounded like a good idea at the mo-ment, for old time’s sake—cigarettes used to calm me.” He widened his eyes knowingly, letting her know it was her fault. “And I neeeded a little calm.”

  “She? Her?” Rhees pulled away a little farther.

  “Don’t wor-rry. I already told you, I told her I was mar-rried.”

  “You shared a freaking cigarette with the same woman who kissed you on the neck. Are you sure you were still at the bar? Because it’s starting to look like you both lit up after . . . after . . . letting her smear her ugly lipstick all over your neck!” Rhees yelled in gusts, not sure if she was more angry or devastated. “Who wears that hideous shade of pink anyway? A cheap, skanky, tramp, whore—an experienced nymph-ho, that’s who—just your type!” She sniffed back the urge to cry but didn’t quite manage it.

  “You know how much I love your neck.” It came out a sob. She felt so torn about what to do. “We’re married! It’s supposed to be my neck, now, and my neck only.”

  Rhees almost hyperventilated, about to break into a bawling fit at the thought of what he might have done. She stood and snatched her robe off the bed, shoved her arms into the sleeves, and slammed the front panels closed around her.

  “You’re a mar-rried man, Paul.” She imitated the way he slurred the word, mocking him. “You were gone for hours. I’ve been here, waiting for you, worried sick about you, while you were out—” She couldn’t breathe.

  “Aw, for crying out loud,” he protested. “I didn’t. I sat at the bar awll night and drank myself into this glorious, mellow stupor. At least, it was a glorious, mellow stupor until you harshed it.”

  She pulled the duvet off the bed and made a production of making herself a bed on the chaise.

  “What are you doing?” He looked pathetically disappointed, but she was too mad and too hurt to care.

  “I didn’t do anything wrong,” he whined, but then sighed as if remembering something. “Dang it! I did. I shouldn’t have run out on you.”

  “Dang it doesn’t quite cover it right now!” she sobbed. “Go to sleep. I don’t want to talk about this anymore!”

  Chapter 12

  Paul opened one eye, groaned, and closed it again.

  “Need help to the toilet?” Rhees asked softly. “Are you going to throw up?”

  “Shh . . . Please don’t scream.” He pinched the bridge of his nose and groaned again. “I don’t throw up, haven’t for years.”

  His head shot up at the realization of what he did tend to do, and the fact that her voice hadn’t come from her side of the bed, snapped his fuzzy consciousness to full alert. His gaze snapped to the chaise, and then to the duvet, and then to her tear-stained face. She sniffled, and wiped her nose, and then tossed the used tissue into a large pile. His heart gave out.

  “No, no, no.” He threw himself out of bed and stumbled onto the floor. He crawled to her on his hands and knees, cursing over and over. He climbed up onto the chaise and somehow maneuvered himself into the chair with her on his lap. “I’m so, so sorry.”

  He stroked her hair and kissed the top of her head, rubbing his hand up and down her arm.

  “It doesn’t matter,” she said as she sniffed again.

  He cursed some more. “Yes, yes it matters.”

  “No. I couldn’t sleep, so while I sat here, awake all night, I came to a decision. I don’t care—well, I do care. It hurts like hel—really bad, but the fact is, I love you, and I can’t not love you—no matter what you did. So it doesn’t matter.”

  “Did I hurt you?” He let out a sob.

  “Yes. I wanted to die.”

  “Oh God,” he sobbed again and put even more effort into his attempt to soothe her, kissing the top of her head again, her forehead, stroking her hair. “I’m so sorry. It shouldn’t have been like that.”

  “Yeah. Tell me about it,” she said dryly. “Don’t get me wrong. I’m not happy about it, but I have to just let it go, because the alternative is—I’ve always looked down on women who do this, women like me. I thought it was a matter of self-respect, but it’s not. It’s a matter of coming to the understanding, knowing how, even though it hurts—” She twisted to look at him. “It really, really hurts, Paul. My heart is aching.” She turned away and sniffed a few times before wiping her eyes and trying to regain her composure. “We’re both turning into blubbering fools. Aren’t we a pair?”

  He squeezed her to him, tighter.

  “It hurts, but it would hurt far more if I had to live without you, even if you did cheat on me.”

  Paul held perfectly still, processing what she’d just said. It took him a full minute to understand, and then try to remember the night before.

  “Rhees?” He didn’t remember much, at all, and needed to ask. “Did I, or did I not, take your virginity last night?”

  She turned to look at him again, surprised by his question. She’d forgotten to take into account the fact that he was so drunk the night before, he probably didn’t remember anything.

  “Do you really think I’d let you put He in me, right after you’d just finished dipping it in someone else?” She gave him her incredulous look. “No! You’re going to have to shower at least a dozen times before you can get anywhere near me with that thing.”

  Paul ran his hand through his hair, wishing he remembered what happened. He was sure he’d sat at the bar all night. He’d worried about being faithful, in the beginning, but that was a long time ago, and even back then, when they first started their charade, he no longer wanted anyone but Rhees. Everything about her consumed him, in every way.

  Out of nothing but sheer habit, Nicole had been the closest he’d come, but he’d stopped himself—his feelings for Rhees had stopped him. He didn’t believe he could desire for anyone else, ever again. He thought about it a few more seconds and knew he had his answer—the most convincing piece of evidence—he didn’t feel like he’d recently scratched that itch.

  “Did I tell you I slept with someone?” he asked, wondering why he would have. “Did I confess?”

  “You’d been smoking, and you had lipstick on your neck.”

  “But did I say that I did, while I still remembered what happened?”

  She dropped her head, shaking it slowly. He hugged her with a sigh of relief. She didn’t fight him, but she didn’t hug back.

  “I’m sorry about last night. I’m a selfish bum . . . and right after I told Keene off about that. He warned me about how you’d . . .” His voice trailed off. “I shouldn’t have run out. I shouldn’t have gotten drunk, and it is absolutely deplorable that I’d leave you all alone right now, while you’re going through all this. But Baby, I don’t think I slept with another woman.”

  “Prove it.”

  He sighed and rubbed his eyes. “I can’t.”

  “I know.” Her voice was quiet. “And it doesn’t matter.”

  “Shit.” He groaned and dropped his head back while he struggled for air again. “I’ve turned you into my God-damned mother.”

  “Well, I understand her now. She loves your dad the way I love you. I’ll just need a little time, that’s all—and you need a lot of soap and water.”

  He laughed, but he really didn’t think it was funny. He was convinced he hadn’t committed adultery, but he didn’t know how to convince her.

  “Proof,” he whispered to himself. “I’d be more relaxed. It’s been a long time, Rhees. If I’d had that kind of release, just last night, I wouldn’t feel like I’m about to freaking explode right now! Holding you right now, loving you so much.” He shifted his hips and pressed himself into her. “Do you feel that?”

  She nodded, but quickly readjusted herself to get away from it. He dropped his head back a
gain and stared at the ceiling. She readjusted again, sliding off of his lap, but hunkered down into the crook of his arm. She placed her hand over his heart.

  He kissed the top of her head again, willing to take whatever she’d give.

  oOo

  Rhees was the one to break the silence. They still sat as they were.

  “I think we should get out of the room,” she said, but she didn’t sound very convincing.

  “We don’t have to.”

  “I need to. Yesterday, we talked about giving it a try. Let’s do it.”

  “We could venture out of the room for lunch,” he offered. “We’ll have to do the hotel restaurant, but that could be a good thing, in case we need to get back here quickly, if you need to.”

  “Sounds like a plan.” She took a deep breath. “Lunch then. Today. Not room service.” They were quiet again for a few minutes.

  “The security guys who brought you home last night said you were some kind of VIP. They were going to call the police, but when they realized who they were dealing with, they brought you back to the room, even though they could have easily had you hauled off to jail. What is that all about?”

  “Aw, they told you all that?” Paul squirmed, acting embarrassed.

  She nodded. “They went above and beyond the call of duty to make you happy, even though you were a demanding, drunken mess.”

  “Um, supposedly, they call this a suite. They pay a little more attention to their suite guests.”

  She giggled. “After last night, they aren’t going to think you’re so sweet, after all.”

  “Yeah, well they never did.”

  “And why is that?”

  He hemmed and hawed a few times, looking like he didn’t want to explain but had no choice.

  “When I checked in, I downgraded . . . the suite. Remember what room we reserved?” He watched her cautiously, hoping his explanation wouldn’t trigger her bad memories again. “We were only supposed to spend one night here before we headed off to Australia. Well, this room was all they had—I always stay in a suite. They called this a suite, but it’s not. There’s no living room. There’s no couch. It’s pretty much just a basic, one-room, hotel room with a glorified shower.”

  “This is a nice room. It’s very elegant.”

  “It’s not a suite.”

  “So they’re under the impression you’re hard to please.”

  “Let’s just say, they noticed me. Now they get a little nervous when they see me coming.”

  Rhees smiled. She understood. He’d shown them what angry Paul looks like and now they were afraid of him. She snuggled up against him a little closer than before, feeling a little safer than she had in a while.

  oOo

  “You decent?” Paul called out before entering the bathroom. He’d heard the shower turn off, long before.

  She didn’t answer, but she’d been in there a little too long, again. The laundry manager had delivered their clean clothes, so Rhees had a choice of her scrubs and the new dress. She couldn’t be struggling to decide what to wear. Even at home with more options she didn’t take this long to get ready. His concern trumped his desire to be courteous, and he walked in.

  Rhees stood in front of the mirror, fluctuating between looking at her reflection and then down to see herself in person.

  “You look . . .” Paul almost salivated. “Stunning.”

  Rhees wore the new brown dress and his head flooded with sweet memories. He’d practically drooled over her every time she’d worn it. She’d still hated him, but that brown dress always made it impossible to take his eyes off her, like now. He jerked to attention.

  She looked up and caught him staring and he didn’t know what to make of the flicker of fear that floated across her gaze.

  “Baby? What’s wrong?”

  “I can’t wear this.” She looked down at herself again. “I know you went to a lot of trouble to get it for me, but I—I can’t. People will look at me.” Her haunting gaze rose to meet his again. “The way you’re looking at me, now—I can’t—”

  He swore. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking. Take it off. Put on your scrubs. Take it off. Now!” He watched her bottom lip start to tremble and he couldn’t bear it. He rushed to her and grabbed the bottom of the dress, yanking it up and over her head. He turned and headed to the closet where he tossed the dress onto the floor and grabbed for her scrubs. “Here.”

  She took them from his hands, turned her back to him, and threw them on. She took a deep breath, as if she’d just received respite from a round of torture.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

  He cradled her in his arms and rocked back and forth until both their breathing returned to normal.

  “We’ll order room service. We don’t have to go out.”

  “No.” She shook her head, violently. “I need to go out. You need to go out.”

  “Okay.” He did. He’d been feeling like a caged animal. “We’ll do this, nice and slow, but promise me, you’ll say something if it gets to be too much.”

  She nodded, but he couldn’t help but worry.

  “Ready?”

  She nodded again and even made a pitiful attempt to give him a heroic smile. He winked at his brave girl.

  oOo

  They stepped into the small foyer but Paul held the room door open, waiting for a reaction. She didn’t run back in, screaming, so he did the same thing on the outer door. She poked her head over the threshold and glanced both ways down the long hotel corridor and then nodded as if assuring him the coast was clear. They headed toward the elevators.

  “The thought of doing this has been much worse than the doing,” she said. “You can stop being such a mama bear. I’m fine.”

  “You know I can’t help it. I’m genetically compelled to worry about you.”

  “Yes, I know.” She grinned contentedly as they stepped into the elevator. He checked on her one more time before pushing the button to the lobby floor.

  “It’s not fair.” Rhees watched him in the mirrors inside the elevator. “How can you still look so good, hungover, with your eyes all bloodshot? You look different. It gives you a harder edge, but you’re still beautiful.”

  He humphed, suddenly self-conscious. The doors opened on the fourth floor and two men stepped inside. They talked and laughed boisterously and Rhees tensed. Paul stepped between her and the men and put a protective arm around her. She buried her head into his shoulder and tried to pretend the strangers didn’t affect her.

  “You all right?” he asked when they reached the main floor and the men walked out first.

  “Yeah.”

  “Okay. Restaurant’s this way.” He took her hand and led the way, but when they passed by the hotel’s convenience store, he stopped. “Maybe we could slip in here and get some eye drops. You up for that?”

  She nodded.

  They wandered around the little shop until he found the small medical section. Rhees scanned the store while she waited for him to find the eye drops, and then he turned his attention to the pain relievers for his headache. She noticed the condoms on the other side of the aisle, and right next to them, a stack of boxes labeled, personal lubricant.

  “These will do,” he finally said with his choices in hand. He clasped her fingers with his other and led her to the counter where the clerk started ringing him up. He told the girl to charge it to his room and she didn’t bat an eye . . . except to admire Paul.

  “Um, can we look around a little more?” Rhees asked.

  “Sure, do you need something?”

  “Everything was in my bag, on the bus. Yeah, I could use a few things.”

  Paul followed her around like a puppy and her hopes of accomplishing her goal diminished. She wandered over to a
display of purses and hats. She picked up a small silver clutch.

  “Can I get this?” She looked at Paul expectantly.

  “You can buy anything you want. You don’t have to ask me.”

  She wandered aimlessly around again, picking things up here and there, stalling, trying to figure out how to get rid of him. They’d seen everything in the store at least three times before she stopped at a rack of sunglasses and started trying them on, each and every one of them.

  She didn’t ask him for his opinion, purposely avoiding getting him invested in the project. It worked. He started to act bored. His brilliant mind was too active to put up with her determined indecision.

  She found a pair she liked and headed toward a display of stuffed animals. She hated stuffed animals, but she hoped it would do the trick. She noticed him roll his eyes when she started picking up each animal and looking it over as if seriously deliberating which would be the best addition as the newest member of the family.

  “You could wait for me outside if you like.”

  He looked relieved, ready to jump on his chance to get away, but then he slumped. “No, I don’t mind.”

  “Paul, you’re hovering, and it’s making me feel rushed. I can’t shop with you pressuring me to hurry.”

  “Seriously?” He sounded incredulous. “This is you, feeling pressured to hurry?”

  “Yes!” She stretched up on her toes and kissed his cheek. “Please, go. Maybe you can get a drink while I finish up here. You’ll be happier, and I’ll be happier.”

  He groaned at the suggestion of a drink. It was too soon, his headache was a reminder of that. “Okay. I’ll head over to the restaurant and get us a table.”

  He flashed one of his signature smiles, something he hadn’t done since the hijacking, and she knew getting him out of the room had been a good decision. She smiled back and his right eye did its winkie-twitch thing before he leaned down and returned her kiss, but on the lips. Her breath caught and her heart fluttered and for the first time in over two weeks, she felt an inkling of hope.

 

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