by Franca Storm
But I’m not close to being done. I grab her hand, but she rips it from my grasp.
“Look at me,” I command.
She shakes her head as she struggles to pull her dress on.
“How about I fuck you right now on the grass? You want that? I won’t even look at you while I’m pounding you. Pure mindless sex? How would you like that, baby? Is that what you want from me?”
“I want to go home,” she murmurs, fixing her dress and keeping her eyes down.
I blow out a frustrated breath. “Get in the truck. I’ll be there in a minute.” I need to calm down before I can drive. I hear her stomp away.
I can’t even bring myself to look at her as she walks away. She’s never made me this angry before. Hell, it’s not just anger; it’s hurt. A woman actually managed to hurt me. She wants nothing more than a throwaway fuck. She played me, manipulated me into a relationship so I’d fuck her.
And now I can’t stop thinking whether she would’ve given it up to Axel if he hadn’t been so rough with her. The idea of it makes me sick to my stomach. That woman is mine. How dare she consider spreading her legs for another man? Wait…who am I kidding? She’s not mine at all. Her silence just now made that clear.
I really wanna call her a cab instead of driving her home. I don’t even wanna look at her; to be in the same space as her. But hell if I’m gonna come off looking like the asshole here.
I’ll drive her home and then we’re done. Done! No one fucking plays me; not even her.
Chapter 24
~Nicki~
The campus pub is packed. Friday nights always draw a huge crowd, because it’s karaoke night. I take a sip of my beer and my eyes flick around the place. A sea of college students are gathered around the front of the bar, waving their hands, calling out their orders to the bartenders. I feel sorry for them; how do they handle all that crap? I’ve worked service jobs before. Every summer I work as a hostess at restaurant/bar and it gets packed sometimes, but nothing like this. Crazy.
I’m glad that Chloe made us leave early to get here. We just managed to grab the last couple of stools at the far end of the bar. There weren’t even any booths or tables left. This was it. Chloe made it happen. A couple of guys beat us to it by a few seconds, but she did her thing and convinced them to give up their claims on the stools. The girl sure knows how to use her assets to her advantage. She can flirt her way through anything. Guys lose their common-sense around her. A mere flash of her cleavage, a flutter of her eyelashes and she had them in the palm of her hand. Amazing. I wish I was freer like her.
“You gonna sing?” Chloe asks me suddenly.
I laugh at the suggestion. “I don’t think so.”
“Why not, babe? You have a kick-ass voice.”
“I’ll save it for the real thing, thanks.” There’s no way I’m gonna get up there. It’s different when we’re playing a gig. I have backup then. Besides, John is the lead singer, so I’m never really out there on my own and exposed.
“A couple more drinks and I’m gonna have you changing your mind,” Chloe threatens and I see that familiar glint of mischief in her eyes. Uh oh.
Before I can respond, Mitch comes out of nowhere and pushes into Chloe, forcing her to move her stool so he can pull up his own beside her. Where the hell did he get that from? There are spare stools somewhere?
“Hey, you big oaf!” she cries, slapping his arm in protest.
He turns to her with a massive smirk on his face. “Good to see you, too, gorgeous.”
Gorgeous? An odd look passes between them. Mitch leans into her and whispers something. Her eyes widen and she shoves him, leaving him laughing as he almost falls off his stool.
“What’s going on?” I ask, more than a little curious now.
Mitch rolls his eyes. He’s about to answer me when Chloe cuts in: “Nothing. He’s just being an ass as usual.”
Mitch turns to her and she flashes him that don’t-mess-with-me look of hers. He sighs and says, “Yeah, nothing.”
I’m not nearly convinced, but I can see how ill at ease Chloe is right now. It’s completely out of character for her; nothing ever seems to knock her off-kilter. I make a mental note to discuss it with her later when it’s just the two of us.
Mitch eyes the empty pitcher on the bar top between Chloe and I. “I’ll get us some refills,” he says. He pats his stool and tells Chloe, “Hold onto this for me, gorgeous.”
“You might wanna wait a while. It’s packed over there,” I say, gesturing to the front of the bar.
“Nah. I know one of the bartenders. He’ll hook me up before those other assholes.”
“We’re trying to have a girl’s night,” Chloe tells him.
“Too bad. I’m hanging with you guys until my boy gets here,” he says, not the least bit deterred that Chloe’s shooting daggers at him. He winks at her and heads off to get our drinks, pushing his way through the crowds.
I know immediately that his boy is John. Shit, John’s coming here?
The two of us haven’t spoken since that awful blow up at the ravine. Two weeks have gone by since then.
I don’t know how things managed to get so out of hand. One moment we were kissing and the next he started accusing me of using him for sex. He hadn’t given me a chance to catch my breath. He was so harsh, so graphic about everything. I’m barely able to talk about things like that in calmer circumstances, let alone in a fight like that. I didn’t know what the hell to say.
“Nicki? You still with me?” Chloe asks, waving her hand in my face.
I blink hard as I force myself from my thoughts. “Yeah, sorry. What were you saying?”
“Can we switch seats?”
“You want me to be your buffer against Mitch, of all people?”
“Yeah,” she says, waving her hand urgently, gesturing for me to hurry up and switch seats with her. “Come on.”
“Fine. I think you’re being ridiculous, though. It’s only Mitch,” I say, switching seats.
“Do I look too hot right now?” she asks me, pulling up her low-cut white tank in a failed attempt to cover up some of her cleavage. She pulls at the lapels of her cropped denim jacket, trying to pull it closed.
“Do up the buttons if you’re worried,” I tell her, surprised she’s so anxious to cover herself up. Normally, she’s always showing off what she’s got.
“I can’t. It won’t close,” she says, gesturing to her boobs that are almost spilling out of it.
I can’t stop a laugh from escaping.
“It’s not funny!”
“My God. What’s going on with you? Scratch that: what’s going on with the two of you?”
She leans into me, her eyes darting around us cautiously, before she lowers her voice and tells me, “Shit, Nicki. We…it…it was an accident.”
“What was?” I press, curious as hell.
Before she can answer, someone pushes into me.
“Watch it!” Chloe yells at whoever it is.
I turn to my right to see a woman now perching on the stool beside me—the stool we were supposed to be saving for Mitch. Oh shit.
“Excuse me?” I say, as politely as possible.
She turns to me, her huge tits jutting out towards me, barely contained by the hot-pink strapless number she’s wearing. It’s so tight; I’m surprised she can even move at all. Her eyes sweep over me disapprovingly; my silver tank that shields my breasts from view, my leather jacket. She scoffs as her eyes flick past my jeans to my steel-toe military-style ankle boots. Clearly, she doesn’t approve of my outfit. It’s probably not revealing enough for her.
“Yes?” she responds, curtly.
“We’re saving that seat for a friend. He just went to get our drinks.”
“Too bad,” she retorts, flipping her platinum blonde hair back.
Chloe leans over me and barks out, “Hey, Bitch Barbie, take a hike.”
I hear a familiar chuckle behind me. To my astonishment, John slips in between Barbie and me. H
e looks right past me and tells Chloe, “Relax. Just getting a drink.”
“Nicki,” he says, nodding at me without making eye contact.
And then I watch him wrap his arm around Barbie.
What. The. Hell?
I blink and do a couple of double takes. I can’t believe what I’m seeing. He’s standing right by my stool with his arm around another woman. I feel sick. I can’t breathe. What is he doing?
I don’t know what to do. I’m completely frozen. I can’t move. I can’t speak. I can’t believe he would hurt me like this. Shocked as I am, I just keep staring at him…at them.
And then it gets worse. His arm drops to her ass and he squeezes it. She squeals with delight and he laughs with her. The sound grates on my last nerve, snapping me out of my daze and into action.
Chloe taps my arm. I can see by the look in her eyes, that she’s as shocked and appalled as I am. She pushes her beer glass into my hand. It’s still half-full, whilst mine is empty. “Use this.”
I nod and push back my stool with so much force that it smacks into the one next to mine, nudging John. He turns to face me, with Barbie hanging from his arm.
“What’s up?” he asks, casually, as if nothing shitty is happening here.
It’s the final straw and I can’t stop myself. I just react, putting all my hurt and anger into it as I throw Chloe’s beer in his face.
He flinches and stumbles back in surprise. But Barbie reacts first, screaming at me for getting some of it on her trashy dress. She breaks from him and launches herself at me.
Oh this is on, bitch!
I push her back with both hands and she teeters on her ridiculous six-inch heels. She comes at me again, going in for a slap. I’m a trained boxer, bitch! I catch her wrist before she can make contact. My right hand is fisted and ready in a second and I throw a right hook, aiming right for her face. But I never get the chance to hit my mark as John grabs her around the waist and pulls her back, just in time. Him defending her just infuriates me more and I snap, screaming at her, calling them both cheaters and God knows what else.
I can vaguely hear the chants of fight, fight, fight around us and I can feel that we’re being watched now.
And then powerful arms wrap around me, pulling me away.
“Nicki, stop!” I hear Mitch hiss in my ear.
My eyes lock with John’s and he isn’t calm now; not by a long stretch. Good. Barbie’s hands are all over him, trying to get his attention, but he pays her no mind. He just keeps staring at me.
“I hate you!” I scream at him, before Mitch drags me away.
***
I’m leaning against the wall of the ladies room, trying to catch my breath and wrap my head around the mess that is tonight. It feels surreal, like I’m living through someone else’s experience right now. I can’t believe this is happening. John is cheating on me with another woman? And he comes here and basically shoves her in my face? It’s not the John that I’ve known for the last few years. He’s been replaced by something repulsive; something I don’t recognize.
But maybe this is him in a non-platonic capacity.
My hands are shaking with adrenaline from the fight with that bitch. I feel sick and twisted inside, like something has reached in and ripped out a part of me. It burns right down to the bone. My head is spinning, fighting to rationalize this. I’ve never experienced anything like this before; this hurt. It’s crippling; all-consuming. If this is what it’s like dating a guy, I don’t want any part of it. I never want to feel like this again.
“I can’t believe you asked him here knowing he was with that Barbie doll!” Chloe thunders at Mitch who’s standing awkwardly at the door, clearly uncomfortable being in the ladies room.
“I didn’t know,” he snaps back at her.
“Oh really?” she shouts, taking an angry step towards him.
He meets her with his own and glowers down at her. “Yes, really. Now calm the fuck down and, while you’re at it, stop being a complete bitch to me, will you?”
Chloe steps back like he’s just slapped her. “What?”
“You heard me. Ever since we….” he catches himself and glances at me quickly before looking back at Chloe. He tells her in a commanding, uncompromising tone, “Ever since the slip up you’ve been on me. I’ve let it slide for a while, but I’m done. It ends now.”
I watch a power struggle taking place between them as they stare one another down. And then Chloe heaves a heavy breath. “I’m sorry.”
The look on Mitch’s face mirrors what I’m feeling: shock. Chloe never apologizes.
We’re all standing there in silence, each wrestling with our issues—me with the John thing and the two of them with God knows what—when the bathroom door bursts open.
My breath hitches in my throat as I see that it’s John.
“You’ve got some nerve. Get out,” Chloe fumes.
“Mitch, control your woman,” John growls.
His woman? What?
“Excuse me? I’m not a piece of meat, caveman!”
“Thanks a lot,” Mitch complains to John.
“Just take care of it. I’m not in the mood for this shit,” John barks.
Somehow, Mitch manages to coax Chloe into leaving the bathroom. She calls back quickly, “John, you upset her more than you already have and you can find yourself a new drummer.”
John rolls his eyes and takes a breath before fixing me with a hard stare.
Expecting him to have come here to apologize and try to weasel his way out of this, I’m stumped when I see that angry, intolerant expression on his face. What does he have to be angry about?
Before I can get a word out, he stalks towards me, yelling, “What the fuck was that out there?”
“You’re asking me?” I fume. How dare he try to turn this around onto me?
“Yeah, I’m asking you. You threw a fucking drink in my face and started a fight.”
“Me? That Barbie doll of yours made the first move.”
“After you threw that beer all over the two of us!”
I slam my hands into his chest, knocking him back. “How could you do this to me?” I scream, rabidly, completely losing my cool.
“Do what?”
“Her!”
I go to lash out at him again, but he’s ready this time and he grabs both my wrists. Before I know it, he has me pushed up against the wall, pinning me there. “This is what you wanted.”
“What? I wanted you to screw around when we’re supposed to be together?”
“We’re not together!” he grits out, his eyes flashing wildly with barely contained rage.
“We…yes we are,” I struggle to respond. What is he talking about?
He releases my wrists and steps back. He turns away, throwing his hands up in the air as if he’s silently reaching out to some invisible entity for guidance. And then he spins back around, causing me to jump in surprise at the suddenness of it.
“You made it clear at the ravine that you didn’t want to be together. So this…me with other women…is what that looks like, Nicki.”
His condescending tone gets under my skin. “I didn’t say anything like that.”
“I asked you repeatedly and you gave me nothing but silence. I didn’t hear fuck all from you over the last two weeks...didn’t get anything from you to tell me otherwise.”
“John, no, that’s not—”
“I don’t like being manipulated, Nicki! You know that about me and yet that’s exactly what you did. You harangued me into a relationship so I’d fuck you, because you knew I wouldn’t do it as a one-night stand.”
“I do want us to be together.”
He scoffs with derision.
“You don’t believe me?”
He shakes his head. “Look, let’s just leave things as they are.”
“Friends?”
“Yeah.”
“I can’t just do that, John. Not after what’s happened…the things we’ve done together.”
&n
bsp; He crosses to the bathroom door. “I’m done, Nicki.”
I’m floored by this. How can he just turn it off like that? One minute we’re…together and he’s all in. Then, the next, it’s over as if nothing ever happened. The awful feeling in the pit of my stomach is threatening to make its way to the surface. I need to cast it out. And, so, I can’t stop myself from screaming out, “You hurt me!”
He freezes at the sound of my words. Several second pass before he finally responds, “Right back at you.” His voice is so quiet, just above a whisper, that I barely hear it. The raw emotion in his words shocks me.
His hand on the doorknob, he turns his head to look back at me. All the fire in his eyes has dissipated. There’s something else…dejected emptiness. Oh my God. He meant it. I hurt him.
“I don’t date, yet I was willing to give it a go—for you. And you basically spat all over it, Nicki. You played me. My fault. I shouldn’t have let my guard down.”
“John—”
But before I can finish my sentence, he pushes through the door and walks out.
I stare at the door, where he’d been mere seconds ago. It slams shut, reverberating around the empty bathroom. I can’t wrap my head around what just happened here. How the hell did this night go from light and playful to…this…to everything being ripped to shreds?
I slump against the wall, exhaustedly. “Shit.”
Chapter 25
~John~
My eyes snap open and I wake up to darkness. I know something must’ve woken me up. I don’t wake up randomly during the night; I’m a heavy, deep sleeper.
It takes me a moment to get a handle on my surroundings.
“Hey,” a voice murmurs suddenly.
Oh shit. I almost jump out of my skin as I see Nicki sitting there at the foot of my bed.
“What are you doing here? Are you competing for creeper of the year, because you have my vote? Shit.”
“Mitch let me in. I knocked several times, but you didn’t answer.”
Mitch? Great security, buddy. We’re gonna discuss that bullshit. “I’m tired.”
I can tell by the look on her face that she’s here to talk. Screw that. I said my peace earlier. There’s nothing left to say. I was right the first time; keeping it casual is the saner way to live.