The next words that registered in my overstimulated mind came from the fancy man behind the desk. “We have both of your suites ready for you Mr. Anderson.” Then Luke handed over his black AmEx, and after that it was all, “Is there anything else we can do for you Mr. Anderson?” “If you need anything at all, Mr. Anderson, just call down to the front desk.” “We hope you enjoy your stay, Mr. Anderson.” I was certain that Luke could have asked for blow and hookers and this guy would have been like, “Right away, Mr. Anderson.”
I watched as he handed Luke two sets of key cards, and then a hostess with a big smile took his place. “Have you stayed with us before, Mr. Anderson?” When he confirmed he had, her smile, if possible, grew wider. “We’re so happy to have you back,” and then she gave a quick reminder of the amenities we’d have access to, and then she provided Luke with her personal work line, with the offer that she could get us into any club or show we wanted to see, and set him up with a line of credit if we felt like gambling. “If you need anything else, don’t hesitate to ask. Manny here, will show you to your rooms.” Another hotel employee was there with our bags on a cart.
All the sudden I was flashing back to another time and another life, where this kind of luxury and preferential treatment were commonplace. Where a snap of the fingers, or even just a look, could get you whatever you wanted. I’d forgotten what that was like, but Luke smiled and nodded and fell into the role of Mr. Anderson like it was second nature.
It was a trip. How easy it was to forget that Luke was who he was, when most of the time he dressed like a surf bum and behaved like one too. Had things been normal between us, I might have cracked a Matrix joke at all the Mr. Anderson business. Would we even be able to find our way back to normal? Or were the stinted silence, awkward looks, and hidden longing our new normal? I hoped not, but I’d had a lot of time to think over the last few days and I wasn’t sure we could go back.
I couldn’t unfeel what I felt, or unsay the things I said, or go back to two nights ago and stay instead of walking away from him. Neither could he undo his words and actions, and so all we were left with was this big pile of hurt.
It only reaffirmed my conviction that we both would have been better off had my feelings stayed buried. Now all my attempts to rectify the situation by heaping logic and reason and practicality on them did little good. Each time I looked at him, they rose up again, damning all sensibility to hell.
That left me with two choices. Confess and damn us both and whatever shreds of friendship remained to more of this hellish torture for the sake of something I still couldn’t bring myself to put any faith or stock in, despite the physical evidence, i.e. sweaty palms, accelerated heart rate, stomach butterflies that couldn’t be passed off as indigestion, sleepless nights, hours lost to fantasizing, eyes that sprang tears without warning like a leaky faucet, chest pains that were a result of emotional distress rather than anything actually going on in my chest cavity, trouble breathing when it was all happening at once. They were all symptoms of a very specific problem. A four-letter word I’d heard twisted, used, abused, and disparaged enough times to know better. The only place love, in its pure form, existed anymore was in outdated fairy tales that had no bearing on the reality of the world at present. Those stories were born of minds that ached and longed for something more than what the world could offer. Taylor Swift for instance. When would she ever learn?
The truth was, once the pretty trappings of love were stifled and stripped away by age and years filled with disagreements and arguments and struggle and seeing the worst sides of the other person, the most one could hope to be left with was complacency and a roommate who had become more friend than lover. And friendship was better than most were left with.
Bitterness. Resentment. Betrayal. Regret. Those were more commonplace when couples reached the end, whether it was after a mere five years, or fifty, because people were fickle and feelings were fleeting and beauty never lasted once the lie was exposed.
I wouldn’t lie to myself and I wouldn’t lie to Luke like that. If I didn’t believe that love could last, I couldn’t very well convince Luke, let alone myself that I could make him happy. It had been foolish of me to think we could beat the odds, and selfish of me to think, even for five minutes, that I should just reach out and take temporary gratification from him anyway, when the lasting impact would be devastating to our relationship.
Friendship was the only real solace in this life, the only form of love that could withstand. And when you found someone who so completely got your idiosyncrasies, and knew your mind to the point that you could have entire conversations with a look, and had your back no matter what, and who readily offered forgiveness for all the times you made an ass of yourself, and valued your opinion, and would call you out when you acted like a dumbass or were just plain wrong, but would never turn their back on you, and would always reach out a hand to pick you up when you were down … when you found that person, it was better than all the romantic ideologies and notions out there for naïve and impressionable hearts and minds to latch onto.
In other words, when you had that person, you didn’t fuck it up, which is why not fixing this was not an option.
The rolling cart of luggage came to a stop between two rooms. “Which bags to which room?” Manny asked politely. “This here is our Bella Suite, which features two queen beds, and the other is our Luxury suite with a king.” The four of us hesitated a moment, no one speaking up. The silence, I’m sure, was on my behalf, but it wasn’t necessary.
“Those ones in the one with the king, and those two in here, please,” I said and Manny was happy to assist with depositing the bags in their respective rooms before he disappeared.
When I stepped inside the room I’d be sharing with Luke, it felt like I was stepping inside a posh little apartment. Elegant and sleek, but very cozy. The sleeping area was separated from the sunken living room. Plush arm chairs, a comfy couch, and a little round breakfast table filled the space. Of course, mounted on the wall was a second giant flat screen; there was also one in the sleeping area. I couldn’t wait to get a look at the bathroom. I squealed internally when I saw the Roman tub.
I cringed at the thought of what Luke must be paying for this. Money wasn’t a concern for me, but that wasn’t the same as being able to drop the exorbitant amount he no doubt had on our two nights here. When I reemerged from the oversized bathroom, Luke was sitting on the edge of one of the queen beds, watching me.
“You sure you’re okay with this?”
“Why wouldn’t I be? It’s you Luke,” I said, hoping he would understand that no matter what had come up these past few days, no matter the distance we’d created, he was still Luke and I was still Ci, and at the end of the day, that meant something. Even if I didn’t know exactly what that was anymore.
“That’s good,” he breathed out. “Because we need to talk.”
“I know. Let’s get through dinner, then we can let Kellen and Shae go out; you and I will come back here. And talk.”
He was agreeable, and so when Kellen and Shae knocked a few minutes later, our group ventured out of the resort. There were so many restaurant options along The Strip. Shae pulled out her phone and we picked the first one that appealed to all of us that wasn’t on the opposite end from where we were. After we ate, Luke and I left the other two to wander and sightsee while we trekked back to the hotel.
Things had been lighter and easier between us at dinner, but now, as we rode the elevator up, the familiar tension from the past few days sprang back up and it was a quiet ride.
In my head, I was already forming the words I would say, and it seemed he was doing the same. The moment the door closed behind us, shutting us in the privacy of our suite, we both started in, and we both started with the same thing.
“I’m sorry.”
“I’m sorry.”
With matching grins, the tension broke. I set my purse down and dropped onto the edge of my bed. Luke lowered himself beside me.<
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“We made a mess of things didn’t we,” he said solemnly.
I nodded. “But I think it was mostly my fault.”
He twisted his head to look at me. “I don’t think it was anyone’s fault. We just let our emotions get the best of us.”
“Exactly.” It was relief knowing that he understood. Maybe I’d wasted the last three days being worried for nothing. “This trip has pushed us together and stirred things up, and I’m sorry for how I acted. Like you owed me anything, or like we were more than we are. I was feeling a lot and reacted badly, but you’re my best friend and I don’t want anything to change that.”
He dropped his eyes, bending over to rest his elbows on his knees. “That’s the problem. I do,” he uttered to the floor. He did what? Wanted it to change?
When I didn’t respond, he looked over at me again. “I want things to change between us, Ci. And the other night I know you wanted that too. Don’t tell me you still don’t.”
“I don’t,” I insisted hoarsely.
“Don’t lie to me Ci,” he said, anger slipping through his voice. “Do anything but that.”
“I’m not lying. I don’t want our friendship to change. It means too much to me.”
“And you mean more than that to me,” he said with an air of desperation that had me feeling likewise panicky. He wasn’t supposed to do this. I thought we were on the same page.
“Like you said, we just let our emotions get the best of us,” I said shakily.
“I was talking about our tempers. We were both mad and hurt that night; we said and did things we didn’t mean. At least I did. But it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t change the way I feel. No matter what happened that night.” I knew this was his way of telling me I was forgiven for leaving with Tyson and not coming back until almost two in the morning.
What he must think of me, especially after I’d told him I was turning over a new leaf. Yet, here he was telling me it didn’t matter. It didn’t change how he felt.
I looked him in the eye. “Nothing happened with Tyson.” That was the truth. “Whatever you think of me, I didn’t hook up with him. I meant it when I said I didn’t want to be that girl anymore.”
“While I’m glad to hear that, I meant it when I said it wouldn’t have changed anything.”
“Luke, this isn’t the talk we were supposed to have,” I was practically pleading with him.
“Then tell me what talk we were supposed to have,” he said, rising from the bed and turning on me. “Tell me how this was supposed to go in that head of yours.”
I looked up at him. “I was supposed to apologize, and air out my feelings, and you would understand and then we would agree that it was best to go back to being friends, because that’s the only thing that works between us. That’s the only way we don’t hurt each other.”
He scoffed, “Well I’m sorry, I can’t give you that. Because it doesn’t work for me anymore. If I’m being honest, it hasn’t worked for me for a long time. I resigned myself to it anyway, because I thought it was all you’d ever give me, but then that night, I finally saw in your eyes that our friendship had changed for you too. If we had finished that conversation that night, we wouldn’t be having this one right now. We’d be in the room with the king bed.”
I shook my head miserably. “Luke, that can’t really be what you want. I’m not really what you want.”
“Like hell. Don’t tell me what I can and can’t want.”
“But you know it’s true, otherwise you wouldn’t have kissed Meg when you did. If you really thought things were about to change between us, and it was what you wanted, you wouldn’t have done that. But subconsciously, or on some level, I think you knew you and me was a bad idea. You doubted I could be what you wanted.”
“Bullshit,” he growled. “My kissing her wasn’t about not wanting you, dammit. I’ve never doubted that. This isn’t some new feeling for me, but for years you’ve kept me at arm’s length and you run anytime I threaten that. I thought that’s what you were doing again. Running from the truth. Again. So yeah, I kissed her back out of weakness, because once again I was convinced it would never be you who was there, letting me kiss you. That’s all it was. Don’t think for one second that I didn’t want it to be you.”
“Why do you keep saying I always run?”
“Come on, Ci. You know damned well what I mean.”
I stood. “No, I damned well don’t!”
“This isn’t the first time things have started to happen between us, or that I’ve tried to show you how I feel, but you shut it, and me, down every single time.”
“When? When have I ever? You’ve never shown even the slightest inkling that you wanted anything but friendship from me.” I was starting to get pissed now. If anything, he was the one who had always made sure the boundaries stayed clear.
“When? I’ll tell you when. How about the night before my birthday four years ago, at the club? Or, what about on my birthday the next year when I took you to my parents’? Or what about when the pipes busted in your apartment and you had to move out and you stayed with me for three weeks?”
My mouth parted but no sound came out.
“All of those times, I tried to make you see, but you bolted at the first sign of real fucking feelings.”
“I– I,” I stammered. “I didn’t. You never– We …” Dammit, I couldn’t put my words together with this swirling anger and confusion clouding my brain.
“You did. And you know you did,” he said accusingly.
Something snapped in me.
“If I ever fucking ran, it’s your fault. I thought all you ever wanted was friendship. You made it clear that night four years ago that you’re so quick to bring up!”
“Did I?” he said scornfully. “Did I really? Because I seem to remember a different version of events.”
“Fuck you, then. You know what happened that night.”
“Then tell me what happened that night? What did I do?”
“You know!” I cried in frustration. How could he act like that night meant something more to him, when he was the one who made it clear it didn’t?
“Fine, let’s talk about that night. The one where you walked away from what was happening, not me.”
“Because it was better than facing the humiliation of your rejection, having you remind me of what I was, what I am.”
“And what’s that? How the hell did I humiliate you? I remember it the other way around.” He narrowed his eyes in accusation, but I’d be damned if I let him flip this around on me.
“Then your memory is a little foggy, because you were the one who wanted to make sure I knew it was only one night. How stupid I’d been to think otherwise. How stupid I was to forget that you would never have anything to do with a stripper. That I wasn’t good enough for you.”
“When the hell did I ever say you weren’t good enough?”
“You told me from day one that it was you or the job, but that if I picked the job, there would never be anything else between us. That you would never date a stripper.”
“For fuck’s sake,” he groaned. “You’re holding something I said the first night we met against me? And not only that, but you’re putting other words in my mouth that I sure as hell didn’t say. Like that you being a stripper meant you weren’t good enough.”
“You didn’t have to say it in those words. It was obvious what you meant when you said you wouldn’t date me if I took the job. You wanted me to be the good girl you thought I was. And I’ve seen the girls you’ve taken on dates. Why do you think it wasn’t a shocker for me to see you kissing Meg?” I threw that in his face again.
“And yet none of them are here, are they? But because I’m not an asshole that would take advantage of my position of power over an employee, instead I’m an asshole who thinks strippers are beneath me.”
“I–” I didn’t know what to say to that.
“Was pushing your insecurities and self-image issues onto me? I know.”
>
I glared. “I was not.”
“Yes, you were, because I never once did or said anything that should have made you feel like being a stripper somehow made you unworthy. All that bullshit came from your own head.” He wasn’t the only one to point that out. I remembered similar words coming from Shae.
“Look Ci, in the beginning, yeah, it never would have worked. You were just another one of the girls who worked for me. I didn’t know you. I only knew it was my responsibility to take care of my girls, and make sure that no one disrespected you or took advantage of you, or felt entitled to things from you just because of your profession, and that included me. So, any personal relationship was off the table, but you had to have seen when things changed, because you were not like all the other girls.”
“How was I supposed to know that?” I croaked.
“Did you see any of them at poker night? Do any of them have a key to my house? Do they even know where I live? When Bre broke up with her boyfriend and needed a place to stay, did you see me offering my guest room to her?”
“No, but … we’re friends.”
He squeezed his eyes shut and raked a hand through his hair, dropping down on the edge of his bed. “If you still can’t see that it was always more than that, then I don’t know how to make you.”
Almost mechanically I lowered myself onto my bed across from him. “Then why did you stop us that night? The one before your birthday? Why did you say you wanted to make sure I understood what it was between us? It was obvious to me, especially after you’d told me that your birthday was the night you were going to let yourself be selfish with me, that it was only a one night stand to you.”
He shook his head sadly. “That’s not why I stopped us. You misunderstood me and then you were the one who was quick to throw in my face that it was just a hook-up, a chance to get each other out of our systems.”
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