I finally collect my scattered thoughts and answer, “I don’t want to look at you. I’m sorry, this was a bad idea.” I instantly feel the loss of her hands from my face as she harshly pushes me off her and sprints off the bed. I look at her delicate naked figure as she starts pulling her clothing back on.
Now she’s the one who won’t look at me and I can’t believe I’ve managed to hurt her. I didn’t intend to hurt her, but I just rejected her and she has no idea why. She doesn’t look my way or bloody say a word, but the throbbing in my chest tells me she’s about to cry. I tried to make her forget that arse Jeffery ever existed and now I’m the arse she ought to forget. I thought she could be mine for a bit and I’ve managed to make it all go tits up. My feelings and my issues have ruined what could’ve been perfect—at least momentarily.
“Sara, it came out wrong; let me explain.”
She stops fussing with her shorts and turns to look at me, and that look, those eyes, those unshed tears nearly destroy me. I leap off the bed and grab her so hard that she makes a pained noise before her tears pass over her lower eyelids.
“No, love, please. I’m sorry. I want you and me to be together, but I don’t want to just be someone you use to fuck him out of your system. I want us to not have to fuck anybody out of our systems. I just want us to be together. I ought to be an option, a choice, not a fucking regret.”
Is that really what I want? Her wails echo around me and I think, I’m a stupid wanker. How do I fix this?
“If You Leave” by OMD
Hate and love are different sides of the same coin. I love and hate almost everything and everybody in my life at one point or another. Why this silly, gorgeous man is here and why fate brought us together, I can’t pretend to understand. He pushed me away because he thinks I want Jeffery, but all I can think about is him. I’m pretending to use him to get Jeff out of my system, but that’s a lie. I want Liam and he needs to understand that. I choose him. I won’t allow Jeff to have this kind of hold on me. I refuse to play second fiddle anymore. From this day on, I will not tolerate anybody in my life—even for a day—unless they want me first. I’ve earned that!
I have once again proven to myself that my dam of tears is bottomless. I understand everything he’s said and I feel everything he feels, and yet I can’t stop crying. This makes how many times that I’ve cried today? Why is he still here and not running away? I’m certain that I’ve provided enough evidence to establish that I’m the biggest mess he’s ever going to see. This shit show is slowly starting to get embarrassing. He should go, like now!
“Liam, let go of me. You need to leave.” I can’t even see him clearly with the nonstop stream of tears blurring my vision. He holds me ridiculously tight against his chest and his grip hurts, but I can’t help but wish I had someone who wanted to hold me this tight forever. “This was a mistake, just go. Don’t worry, I’ll never speak of this to anyone.” My words cause him to clench me even tighter.
“Please, Sara, don’t say that. Listen to me; I love being here with you more than anything. I’m just tired of being everybody’s second choice. I wanted you to choose me! I didn’t mean to push you away or make you bloody cry again. Forgive me. Please tell me you understand that I’m not using you to get anybody out of my system. I’m using you because you feel good in my arms.”
He holds my head against his chest as I continue to sob, my tears running down his naked body. This perpetual hell I’ve made for myself needs to be destroyed. He begs me, pleads with me to stop crying but I physically can’t. I allow a perfect stranger see the ugliest, scariest side of me—a side I don’t even think Jeff has seen. Why have I allowed myself to break down like a weak, worthless fool in front of him?
I feel him lift me up once again and a sense of déjà vu comes over me. “Put me down. I need to go wash my face. Your tea must’ve been laced with hormones. I never cry this much, especially in front of a stranger,” I say between hiccups.
He kisses the top of my head and says, “I stopped being a stranger after I sucked your nipples and played with your cunt, so kindly come up with a new term to describe me because I may be many things, but a stranger isn’t one of them.”
I’m nestled into his chest as he leads us into yet another room I’ve never seen before. “Holy shit! How many rooms does this penthouse have? Are we playing musical rooms?”
“I will make sure everything is smashing this time. In the first room you made a bad decision, in the last room I made a bad move. I proper fancy this room for making stellar memories,” he says, smiling down at me.
This new room is beautiful. He hasn’t released me from his arms and I find it weird how normal this feels. He walks us to one of the two queen-sized beds, closest to the window, and lays me down on the blue and white bedspreads that look almost royal and match the wall coverings. “This will be the last time I’m fetching you a cloth to wipe your eyes…understood?” I nod. “You’re beautiful, even when you cry, Sara,” he adds before going to get yet another fucking rag to clean my treacherous eyes.
I accept the towel, thanking him. I have experienced too many sensations about Liam to even start to understand what’s happening between us. I wipe my eyes as he studies me.
“What are you thinking?” I ask him.
“That I need to know everything. Every last inconspicuous detail about you. New rule—no touching, just talking.”
“So, now you make the rules for our fucked-up relationship?” I tease as he breaks his own rule in less than a minute by lifting my legs and placing them on his lap as he sits at the foot of the bed.
“Fine, the no-touching rule blows. I wouldn’t be able to stop touching you, anyway. How about no kissing, or sucking any body parts?” he offers as he starts massaging my feet, first gently and then with some much-needed expert strength.
Yeah, that’s a good rule, I think, melting into his touch. God, I love having my feet touched; Jeff never has time to massage my feet. I close my eyes and let myself enjoy a few rare minutes of bliss.
“Everything about you shouts ballerina,” he says, outlining my high arch.
I smile at his assessment. I hated ballet as a child. I had to pirouette and plié while Emily got to dance hip-hop with all the normal kids. Who needs to stand in a turnout and walk on their toes, wear pink tights and tutus, when you could be learning dance moves that you may actually use one day? Not sure why my mother insisted I practice ballet all those years, when the only person to ever see me dance or come to my performances was Emily. I haven’t danced for twelve years and I have no desire to ever put my pointe shoes back on. Perhaps Liam’s right—a broken ballerina I am.
“If you get me drunk enough, I may show you the mean split I can do.” I smile as my handsome foot masseur continues his job.
“I’m breaking another rule,” he says as he brings my foot to his mouth and plants a soft kiss along my arch. “If some dimwit didn’t make up some silly rule about no kissing I’d give your feet a proper tongue massage, but it’s against the rules.” He gives me a mischievous cocky smile.
“I’ve never had a tongue massage, on my feet, that is.” I giggle as everything, including my clit, comes to life and tingles once again as I imagine his tongue doing wicked things to me.
“I’ll fix that one day, if you let me.” He lifts my feet, slides from under them, and moves up the bed to lie next to me. He drapes an arm over my waist and lays his head on my chest. He’s completely naked; his jeans are in the last room. If I didn’t know that he owned a hotel in St. Lucia, I’d say judging by his tan lines that he’s a surfer. I run my fingers up and down his back and his skin pebbles to my touch but still feels hot. I lower my nose to inhale his hair and it smells of something woodsy and manly. I wrap my arms around him and I kinda sorta feel safe for no good reason. I kiss the top of his head, and it feels strangely natural and calming being entwined with Liam.
“Stop smelling me and start at the beginning, Sara…when did you meet him?” he asks
.
“If I rewind and try to tell my story, you must promise me a few things.”
He looks up at me and says, “Anything.”
“Promise to not react to what Jeffery and I share. When you hear my story, you have to accept that it’s not just my story but Jeff’s as well. Emily must never know any of this; she won’t understand. This will hurt her more than anything, and I can’t take that chance. I will lose the only true friend I’ve ever had. You also need to promise not to feel sorry for me; I don’t need pity.”
He moves up to my lips and kisses them, breaking yet another rule.
“Enough with the promises, I’m here for you. I can’t guarantee that I’ll fancy hearing about you and some wanker, but I will endure it for you. Someone other than you needs to have knowledge of your past in order for you to stop hurting and punishing yourself.”
I can’t believe that Liam Knight is about to hear my tale. He probably assumes that once he knows my truth, he’ll just be able to close his eyes and fuck me, as if I’m not the worse person in the world. Once you know the truth you can’t un-know it. I’ve kept secrets and told lies for long enough to recognize that right now is the best opportunity I’m ever going to get to unburden my wounded soul.
I close my eyes and begin telling him the story of Sara and Jeffery Rossi.
“Don’t You Want Me?” by The Human League
I could tell you the exact moment my life changed forever. The exact second, that if given the chance to go back in time and avoid, would positively, unquestionably, without a doubt alter my whole existence as I know it.
I was fifteen years old and I kissed a twenty two-year-old man. It was the first time I saw the inside of a nightclub and it later proved to be a night of many firsts. Eddie, my older brother, and his friends took Emily and me to our first New York City nightclub in the heart of the village. Twenty dollars got two under-age girls inside and my life has never been the same since.
My brother had just graduated from NYU and was celebrating with his friends their acceptances to law school. This was their last celebratory party of the summer before they would all leave the following week for schools across America. Eddie brought Em and me along to have fun… He didn’t really want to take us, but we begged and cried until he got sick of saying no and reluctantly agreed.
You should know that I knew all of my brother’s friends at that time, to my knowledge, that is. However, that night fifteen years ago, I also met the love of my life. The man who, unbeknownst to me then, would shape my existence and mold me into the Sara that the world thinks they see.
Em and I danced inside this human shield Eddie and his friends formed around us. It was amazing how time stood still inside the walls of that club. Deafening music roared in my ears and the vibrations traveled through my body. We danced for hours until we noticed Eddie and his buddies finally loosen their tight shield around us; they even started dancing with some other girls.
You’ve never met my brother, but you should know that he’s extremely handsome: tall, dark, clean cut; you know, that all-American rich preppy boy that girls swoon over. The kind of guy you see in Ralph Lauren ads. I was always secretly afraid Emily and Eddie would hook up, but that never happened. Em was the biggest prude and my brother wasn’t into high school girls. He once told me that Emily was pretty but since he remembers her in diapers, he would never think of her as anything other than an extra annoying sister. He wouldn’t even look at her gorgeous older sister Jenna. I remember his famous words of wisdom: You shouldn’t shit where you eat. The Marcus girls are family. I wouldn’t touch them if they begged me. Well, that was the good news; I wouldn’t have to worry about my brother touching my best friend. The bad news was I just saw Eddie talking to the hottest guy I had ever seen. They were now both looking my way. Eddie pointed at Em and me dancing, clearly talking about us. I then saw the tall, dark, sexy stranger walk my way with a big grin.
“Hi,” he yelled over the music.
“Hello,” I yelled back, adding a wave as I continued swaying to the beat.
“I was sent to babysit you and your friend while your brother goes to ‘talk’ to that girl outside.” He pointed back toward Eddie who was all over his girl Michelle. They had met a few years back on a family vacation to Europe. Yeah, “talk.” I’m sure that’s exactly what they were going to do outside, I remember thinking to myself.
“We’re good girls. We don’t need babysitting,” I yelled back as I pulled Emily in for a hug. She’d been dancing with her eyes closed for the past few minutes as if in a trance.
“Sara, you cow, you scared me.” Emily giggled as she tightened her hold around my waist. Mystery stranger sent to babysit us spoke again but I couldn’t hear him with the new loud beat blasting from the speaker positioned right next to us. I let go of Em to allow her to dance on her own and motioned to my ears that I couldn’t hear him.
Sexy stranger with sleek black hair and a Dracula peak on his forehead who hadn’t looked away from me smiled and lowered his head to say in my ear, “I promised Eddie I wouldn’t let anybody dance with the two of you. He doesn’t want some guy thinking he can put his hands on his little sister.” As he said this, he put his hand on my back to keep me still while he spoke.
I turned to face him and beckoned him closer so that I could whisper in his ear. “You don’t want some guy like you putting his hands on me.” I recall being brave and chanced a glance up at his eyes that were overly dilated and glistening with amusement, making it hard for me to see their true color, or in his case, colors.
He smiled before lowering his head to my ear again, this time, cupping the side of my face before saying, “If you were a year older, I’d put my hands on you all night… I’ll let you grow up a little before I start touching you.” And then he left my side without a second glace as the crowd swallowed him. I spent the rest of that night trying to tell my stupid heart that hadn’t stopped beating out of my ribcage to calm the fuck down and pay no attention to the stupid stranger who already touched me with just a few words.
The night ended with Eddie and his mystery friend—whose stupid name I had yet to learn—abandoning their friends at the club to walk Em and me home. Eddie conveniently forgot to inform me that his buddy from school, Jeff, was sleeping over since our parents were away and Jeffery didn’t live in the city. My brother left me in front of our house with Jeffery to go walk Emily home. Em lived 557 steps away from me.
I pretended to be calm, but it was hard for me to breathe and continue to be my usual loud, smart-mouthed self, because this guy Jeff wouldn’t stop looking at me. He had so much confidence, or maybe it was just liquid courage. I knew for sure he was drunk because he kept swaying a little to the left and I could smell the faint stench of tequila on him. He finally broke our silence and asked me, “How old are you?” as I opened the front door to let us both in.
“None of your business, Jeff,” I barked back, not sure what prompted my bitchy response.
“If you want me to touch you, I’ll need to know your age, Sara, right? I need to figure out how long you’ll need to wait for that to happen.” He laughed as if he’d just told the world’s funniest joke. What a dick!
I obviously didn’t answer the fool and walked upstairs without another word. I think I was upset with myself for actually liking him and letting a drunken idiot see how much he affected me. After his vain remark, I decided I would never say another word to Jeff.
That night, I couldn’t sleep. I tossed and turned, trying to get comfortable and calm enough to let my body win the battle with my head and shut down. You see, when I was young, I liked to talk a big game and pretend that I’d “been there, done that.” Pretend that at fifteen I’d kissed countless boys and touched their dicks. Pretend that sex was no big deal. I had no choice but to be that kind of girl. Emily was my only best friend and the perfect, prudish one, so I got the role of the cute, sassy, and sexually experienced one. I’ve watched enough of my brother’s stashed-away porn mov
ies to fake it. Thanks to Eddie, I knew exactly what boys wanted, what they talked about, and how a girl needed to act to attract their attention. I had no intention of testing my theories with a boy any time soon; I was just a delusional hypocrite testing my theories through others. I liked the opinion my friends had of me. I loved being able to dish out advice and shock everybody with what came out of my mouth. If you ask Emily who was the most sexually promiscuous, loose person she knew growing up, she’d tell you it was me, her best friend, Sara Klein.
So there I was, fifteen years old, trying to sleep in my room, minding my own business, struggling to forget my first club experience and the way some dumb guy named Jeff put his hand on me and how good it felt. Trying to ignore the fact that when he spoke into my ear, every hair on my body—including my pubic hairs—stood at attention. Pretending that his promise to let me grow up before he touched me didn’t affect every one of my molecules. At four thirty in the morning, someone opened my door and stumbled into my bedroom with a loud thump, scaring the living crap out of me. I remember my heart getting stuck in my throat as I tried to scream for help.
As soon as the shock dissipated and my voice re-emerged, I began to let out a scream before I felt a hand over my mouth to silence me. I remember thinking, it’s all over, this is how horror movies end.
Lies In Rewind Page 15