by CJ Martín
“You bet.”
Her casual dismissal of what happened leaves me confused. I don’t know what the hell she’s thinking. All I know is that I’m most definitely fucked.
The next afternoon I receive text from Gigs telling me not to expect her home for dinner because she’s going out with Erika. Those two have been spending a lot of time together lately and I have to wonder if Erika is a good influence. She’s a nice girl but she can be a little wild. And I might be a bit biased since I learned that Erika is the one who arranged the date with Tom.
I spend the rest of the day completing my runs. Coach wanted an update and is very pleased with my time on Diamondback; I shaved four seconds off my completion time. And I stomped the landing on the Wildcat. I wish I’d caught it on my GoPro. It was fucking flawless. Coach thinks I’ll be back in Boulder within the next two weeks if all goes well.
Because things have been awkward between Gigs and me ever since the pool party, part of me thinks that time away is exactly what I need to clear my head. The other part of me, the larger part of me, doesn’t want to leave her.
I finish eating my bowl of cereal—I’m lazy and it works—when my phone lights up with a message. I quickly snatch it up, hoping it’s Gigs, but it’s only JJ.
JJ: What u doing tonight?
Vik: Nothing.
JJ: Wanna go out?
Vik: Nah, tired.
JJ: Don’t be a douchenozzle.
Vik: Fuck you. Aren’t u supposed to be back in Boulder?
JJ: Yeah, long story.
Vik: Hit me up tomorrow. Back country?
JJ: Sounds good. B at Erika’s if u change ur mind.
As I read JJ’s last message my mind goes from uninterested to acutely aware. Gigs is hanging out with Erika tonight. Is she having a party? And if so, why didn’t Gigs tell me about it? I reply instantly.
Vik: What’s going on at Erika’s?
JJ: Don’t know. Party or some shit. Got a text about an hour ago.
I re-check my messages. Nope. Definitely didn’t get an invite. What is Gigs doing that she doesn’t want me to know about? And more importantly, do I want to find out? I type back my reply.
Vik: Be at your house in ten.
What I thought was going to be a quiet dinner between two friends turned in to a full-blown house party. Erika clearly misinterpreted my text earlier today. When she asked me what I felt like doing tonight I texted back, “Pizza and reality TV?” I was proud that I didn’t type back, “Anders.”
This was her plan all along. She said she wanted to have a small get together and purposefully snub Anders, saying he would find out about it ‘through the grapevine.’ (Side note—what person under fifty uses that expression?)
Personally, I think she has an ulterior motive. Although she’d never admit it, Erika has a thing for JJ. This party, and her so-called desire to help me ‘get’ Anders, is the perfect excuse to see JJ. Not that I’m complaining. Much.
We’re at her apartment with pizza and alcohol. Plenty of alcohol. At least she got the pizza right, though to be honest, I haven’t eaten one bite. My mind is consumed with thoughts of Anders. Will he show up? I’m embarrassed by how much I care.
“He’s coming,” Erika says, as I hand my beer back to her.
My heart kicks into high gear. “Who?” I play dumb even though I know she’s talking about Anders.
“You know who.” She takes a swig of the beer. “Not drinking?”
“Not tonight.”
“Come on. Live a little.”
“I’m living just fine.” My eyes sweep the room in search of Anders even though there’s no possible way he could be here yet.
“One drink. Just one drink.” She insists.
I’m not opposed to drinking. I’ve done my fair share of it over the past three years. I don’t know why I’m being so uptight. I should loosen up. Anders has fun. So should I.
“All right, fine. One drink, but I don’t want that shit.” I point at her beer.
“Picky, picky. Tom!” she calls across the living room. “Play bartender and make Elena a drink.”
“No problem.” He walks to the kitchen and I follow behind him.
After the pool party debacle I talked to Tom and told him that we were better off as friends. My emotions are so tied up in Anders, and our living arrangement is unique to say the least, so it’d be unfair to lead him on. His sad eyes told me that he was disappointed, but he’s way too much of a gentleman to pursue me against my wishes. After our talk I felt as though a huge weight had been lifted, and I find myself enjoying his company much more.
“So what’re you drinking?” He gestures to a host of bottles on the counter.
“Surprise me.”
He smiles and begins pulling a few bottles from the pile. In the end he hands me a vodka and cranberry. Not too fancy, but exactly what I wanted.
“Thanks.” I take the glass from him.
“Any time. Now, let’s dance.”
I drank a lot. I may be a little drunk. I lost count of how many drinks I consumed, but I know it was more than four. That’s the thing about drinking. One moment you’re buzzed and the next you’re drunk and the world seems a little fuzzy.
I couldn’t stop myself. When Anders walked in earlier, in his dark blue jeans and grey Henley, with his messy hair like someone had been running her fingers through it, like he’d just been fucked, I needed another drink. And then another.
I say my goodbyes to Erika and her group of friends that formed our dance circle and push through the crowd. My eyes find Anders standing in the kitchen talking with JJ. He looks so delicious that it’s all I can do not to jump him. He turns his beer bottle idly in his hand as he laughs with JJ. I watch for a moment, mesmerized as his hands move around the bottle. His hands are so big and strong and my lust is only amplified when I imagine his hands all over me.
The alcohol is making me very brave and I decide that I’m going to make a move. I want him. Regardless of commitment. Regardless of right and wrong. Time to find out if he wants me.
His back is angled away from me so he doesn’t see my approach. I sidle up behind him.
“Hey baby,” I whisper in Anders’s ear, in what I hope is a sexy voice.
“Gigs.” He smiles at me at first, but when I stumble into him he has to wrap his arm around me to steady me. “You’re drunk?” He says it simply, but the way his voice rises at the end makes it seem more like a question.
I don’t say anything, but begin trailing my hands over his torso. God, do I want him. Right now.
“How much have you had?” He places his hands on either of my shoulders, bending his knees to bring his eyes to my height. He frowns, but I don’t know why. I’m having a good time. And it’s about to get better.
“Anders.” I look at him. “You’re so sexy.” My eyes must show my intent, because his widen in surprise and his nostrils flare.
“Gigs.” He warns.
I run my hands over him. God, he feels good. Out of the corner of my eye I notice JJ watching us with amused interest, but I don’t care. The rational part of my brain is shut off, and all I can think about is Anders.
“Come here.” He takes my hand in his and practically drags me behind him down a hall into a small bedroom. Yes. He sits me on the edge of the bed and stands before me with questioning eyes.
I sit there giggling quietly to myself. I don’t know what’s so damn funny, but I can’t stop laughing. He moves closer so he stands between my legs, and I need him more than I ever have before. The alcohol is giving me courage to act on my feelings. I reach for his belt and fumble with the buckle before unfastening it.
“Gigs.” His sharp voice pierces the quiet room.
I continue with his button and zipper, pushing his jeans down a little. I see the band of his navy boxers and a wave of anticipation rushes over me. He hardens beneath my touch and it makes me feel powerful knowing that I can turn him on so easily.
“Elena.” I hear his heavy
breaths echoing in the small space. “What are you doing?”
“What do you think?” I arch a brow.
“Stop.” His protest sounds weak.
My hands find him then and I grab his length, and he sucks in a harsh breath. I tug up gently, loving the way his breath hisses through his teeth. “Anders, I want you.” I spread my legs wider and bring him closer to me.
“Baby.” He groans low and deep, and the sound encourages me. I’ve never given a blowjob, have never really wanted to, but I want to now. I need to taste him. I want him to come undone, fall apart from me. I want to own him like he does me.
I push him back a little, then sink down to my knees and tug his boxers down. He springs forward, fully erect before me. In the dim light of the room I can’t admire him the way I’d like, but I can tell his length is impressive. I look up at him, and without thinking I lick my lips. His eyes are hooded as he looks down at me. His breaths come in quick, heavy pulses and his fingers trace my full bottom lip. “So fucking beautiful.”
“Anders I want to…” My bravado falters. “I never have.”
My words must snap him out of his lust filled haze. His expression changes instantly and his face hardens. Is he mad? He hastily fixes his pants and grabs my hands, pulling me up to face him.
“Wh-what are you doing?” My face flames bright red with humiliation. What did I do wrong? He’s rejecting me. Again.
“Gigs, not now. Not like this,” he says with much effort.
“What? What am I doing wrong?” My emotions are spinning away from me. He doesn’t want me? I just humiliated myself. I offered him a blowjob and he turned me down. What guy would turn that down?
“Gigs, you know it’s not that. You’re drunk. If you weren’t drinking…” He speaks calmly, trying to placate me.
Anger quickly replaces my humiliation. “How very big of you.” I spit.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” His cool voice chills my skin.
“Anders fucking Vik can have any girl, right? You hook up with any willing girl you can, and now today of all days you decide to have morals?” His clenched jaw and narrow eyes warn me that I should stop, but I can’t. I’m on a roll. “You know, I saw you that night in the office, so don’t tell me you’re very discriminating on the where or when.”
He sucks in an angry breath. “You’re drunk.” The finality in his voice lets me know he’s trying to end this conversation before we say any more things we’ll regret.
I shrug as if to say, “So what?”
He stares back at me for a moment, breathes out evenly, then takes a step toward me. “Gigs, please. You know I want you.” I snort at that comment, but he grabs my hand and places it over his length. “Does this feel like I don’t want you?”
I pull my hand back quickly and let it drop to my side.
“You’re not any girl, Gigs. I don’t want you to give me head in some back bedroom at a party while you’re drunk.” He looks at me pointedly. “When you take my cock in your mouth for the first time I want you to remember. Every. Single. Detail.”
Still stung by his rejection, I mask my hurt with an indifferent attitude. “Well, you just lost your one and only chance.”
His face morphs from one of passion to one of anger. “You know what? Fuck this. I don’t need this shit.”
Knowing I’ve pushed him too far, I call after him. “Anders…” But the sound dies on my lips as he slams the door closed behind him.
My angry expression says it all: Don’t fuck with me. I’m lost in a conversation in my head. What the hell did I do to deserve this punishment? This torture? Because Gigs on her knees, willing and ready to take me into her sweet mouth? Yeah, it was pretty much hell on Earth telling her no. If God is trying to teach me a lesson for all the shit I did wrong in the past, consider it done, lesson learned. I can’t take any more. I’m about to break.
“Where is she?” Erika asks as she approaches me.
“Bedroom.” I don’t even look at her.
“By herself?”
“Yeah.” I glare at her. “Who the fuck else would she be with?”
Erika shrugs. “I don’t know.”
“And why did you let her drink so much?” I’m happy to have someone to vent my anger on.
“I am not her keeper, Vik.”
“Well, you’re supposed to be her friend. You’re supposed to look out for her!”
“Let’s not go down that road.”
“Let’s.” My eyes bore into her.
“I am looking out for Elena. You on the other hand… You’re just stringing her along.”
“What?”
“Let’s be real. You don’t want to be with her, but you don’t want anyone else to have her either. It’s fucked up.”
I take a deep breath. How the hell did this night turn out so shitty? “You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.”
“Whatever Vik. Grow a set and tell her how you feel or let her go. This,”—she makes air quotes—“‘situation’ is unfair. To both of you.”
“Mind your own damn business.” I say between clenched teeth, and I turn away from her, but her words play on repeat in mind: Man up or let her go. Man up or let her go. Man up or let her go.
I can’t let her go.
Less than an hour later I’m ready to go, and I need to find Gigs. I have to make things right because I can’t lose her. We’ll work something out. We have to.
As much as I hate doing it, I find Erika. “Where is she?”
“What’s it to you?”
“Don’t fucking start.” I’m so over this party and this conversation. I want to get Gigs and get the hell out of here. “Where is she, Erika?”
“In the same bedroom as you left her.” I sneer at her, about to respond when she says more gently, “She’s sleeping. I just checked on her.”
I don’t acknowledge her response but turn in the direction of the bedroom. Erika jumps in front of me, blocking my path.
“Let her sleep it off. I’ll watch her.”
“No.” My voice is determined.
“I’ll take care of her. Besides you both need some time apart… to cool off.”
“No.” My voice booms, even more determined and insistent.
Erika’s eyes widen but she doesn’t back down.
“Move. Now.” I speak slowly because it’s the only way I can keep my anger under control.
She still doesn’t move, and I’m two seconds away from brushing past her when JJ intervenes. “Let him go.”
“Why? So he can keep playing her? So she can sit by and watch while he fucks every snow bunny he can but still come home to her? I don’t think so.”
JJ instinctively grabs me. He knows that I would never hit a girl, but he also knows that I’m pissed and am not thinking clearly. In a way, I admire Erika’s loyalty to Gigs. She is looking out for her, but she’s dead wrong if she thinks she’s going to keep me away from Gigs. Not tonight. Not ever. I’m not the one she needs protecting from. I would do anything for Gigs.
I haven’t even so much as touched another girl since I met Gigs at the party all those months ago. I’ve been celibate as a fucking monk. Tom is the one she needs protection from. He’d bang her in a heartbeat and move just as quickly onto the next.
“I’m taking her home.” I shake off JJ’s grip and brush past them both.
I hear their muffled voices as I retreat down the hall. I don’t give a shit what they have to say. Elena belongs with me.
When I open the door I find her lying on the bed, sleeping curled up on her side. There’s a pile of tissues around her, and I can only assume that she’s been crying. My suspicions are confirmed when I turn her to face me and see that her makeup has run. I feel like an even bigger asshole than usual for having made her cry.
“Gigs,” I whisper her name. She murmurs but doesn’t move. I sit down on the bed next to her.
“Gigs,” I say louder and nudge her shoulder. “Time to go home.” I keep my voic
e soft so I don’t startle her. “Gigs.” I nudge her once more.
She murmurs again and pushes herself up to sit. She blinks her eyes several times before looking right at me. “Anders.” Her voice sounds wobbly, dreamlike. She’s either still asleep or drunk. Maybe both.
“Yeah?”
“Why don’t you want me?” Her eyes are big and vulnerable. She looks so sweet that I have to tell her the truth.
“I do, baby.” I brush the hair out of her face. “I do want you. So fucking much.”
She exhales loudly and collapses into me. “I want you to be my first,” she whispers almost to herself.
Within seconds she’s fallen back asleep, resting in my arms. I kiss the top of her head and whisper back, “I want you to be my last.”
The next morning when I wake up my head is pounding and my throat is dry. I sit up in bed, groaning with the movement. Hangovers are the worst. I usually pace myself much better to avoid mornings like these. My brain scans over memories from last night. Erika and Tom and me dancing, being silly. I had fun.
I lie there for a few minutes longer, not ready to start my day. The sheets beside me already feel cool and I determine that Anders has been up for a while.
To be honest, my memory is a little fuzzy last night concerning Anders. I know we fought, but I’m having a hard time remembering over what. I contemplate this for a few minutes longer before glancing at the clock.
Holy shit. Ten forty-three! I was supposed to be at work almost two hours ago.
Just as I’m flinging back the covers, Anders walks in. “You’re up.”
When I look at him, every single memory from last night comes rushing back. Me whispering in Anders’s ear. Me offering to give him a blow job. Him refusing me. Me crying myself to sleep in Erika’s spare bedroom.
He speaks before I have the chance to say anything. “I brought you back here last night. You were pretty out of it.”
“Thanks.” I say, although I don’t know why I’m thanking him. He humiliated me last night. Or is it rather I humiliated myself?