by Jenn Windrow
And with those eight words, Grayson handed us all a one-way ticket to this-is-going-to-get-ugly.
Six
No Talking After Orgasms
The bullet train of my shitty life tore off through the fire that engulfed my heart. All three of us on board were about to be charred by its flames. Pretending, hiding, running away wouldn’t solve my problems. Wouldn’t make the two men with menacing looks and unwelcoming disapproval disappear off the wrap-around porch, or change the outcome of this conversation to something that didn’t leave me filled with despair.
Len stepped closer. The cool breeze kicked up and filled my nostrils with a mixture of his cologne and a whole bunch of pissed off. His anger clogged my throat, choked me. I needed space, so I stepped to the side, one step closer to Doris. He moved with me and refused to back away, like he expected to me to make a Thelma and Louise getaway. He crowded me, got in my face, forced me to see the tightness around his eyes, the flare of his nostrils. The anger and hostility that embraced him like a sensual lover.
“What does he mean it’s time to tell me the truth?” His anger turned the words into darts.
I peeked over Len’s shoulder, a quick glance at Grayson. He leaned against the railing like he owned the place, like Len’s home belonged to him, like I belonged to him. He watched my every move with cold, calculating eyes that didn’t give away his thoughts. Damn. What I wouldn’t do for mental telepathy.
I wanted to focus on Len, tell him that everything would be okay, that Grayson was a temporary problem in our relationship, lie once again. But the lies needed to stop. Grayson was right. It was time to tell the truth.
But it wasn’t up to Grayson when I came clean. If I came clean. Or how I came clean.
“Give me a moment to talk to Grayson.” Talk, scream, rant, rave, whatever you want to call the conversation I was about to have with my partner.
Len grabbed my arm and spun me around so we were facing Grayson. “We’ll talk to him together.”
The walk across my front yard felt as if I was taking my final steps in front of a firing squad. Len dragged me forward even though my feet were doing their best interpretation of anchors. We made it to the steps and Len tugged me up beside him.
His fingers tightened around my arm, once again holding me in place. “Let me guess. More work related items you forgot to mention?” He aimed his words at Grayson.
“More or less.” Grayson’s relaxed stance of folded arms and sleepy eyes proved he couldn’t have been more uninterested in the pissed off man standing in front of him. “Noel, can we talk?”
Len blocked Grayson’s view of me. “Anything you have to say can be said in front of me.”
Grayson leaned to the side and looked around Len. “Does he ever let you make your own decisions?”
“Don’t talk to her.” Len put his hand on Grayson’s shoulder and gave him a little shove. Not hard enough to force him to move, but just enough to get his attention. “This conversation is between you and me.”
Grayson adjusted the collar of his shirt. “You don’t want to hear the truth from me, although at this moment, I would love to wipe that arrogant I’m-better-than-you-smile off your smug face.” He stuffed his hands back in his pockets. “Put an end to this, Noel.” The “or I will” was hidden in his flat tone.
Put an end to a two-year relationship that not only made me happy, but also rescued me from a life of bad choices and broken hearts? I didn’t want to let Len go, but I’d be happy to let Grayson go right over the edge of the Grand Canyon.
But you know what they say about a wish in one hand and shit in the other. Time to girl up, because continuing to pretend things were normal and uncomplicated wasn’t going to change the outcome.
I wanted to reach out and stroke Len’s smooth jaw. Trace his lips. Erase the pain that filled his eyes. What happened next would break his heart.
And mine.
I slipped Len’s ring off my finger and held it out. When he didn’t take it, I opened his palm and placed it in his hand. Air pummeled into my now-empty lungs and forced out the most painful words I had ever uttered. “I can’t accept this.”
He looked at the sparkling metal, then up at me, his eyes full of questions and accusations. “Why?
Pain percolated in my belly, weakened my muscles, rendering my trembling limbs useless, before flowing through my veins on a warpath to my heart, where it settled and constricted.
My words shook when I finally answered. “I haven’t been honest with you.”
Len tucked my ring safely in the front pocket of his pants, then pointed his finger in Grayson’s direction. “It’s because of him, isn’t it?”
My head barely moved in an affirmative nod. “Yes.”
He walked to the black porch swing and fell down on to the burgundy and white striped cushion. “I knew it when I saw you together today. How long has this been going on?”
“A few weeks.”
“How could you do this to me?” He jumped out of the swing and it banged against the house, punctuating his anger. He paced, hands scrubbing through his hair, messing it up like I messed up our happy relationship.
I wanted to smooth down the strands that stuck out. Smooth down the wrinkles and ripples Cupid created in our love. Smooth Grayson down with a steamroller.
“I never meant for it to happen. That’s the truth.”
He turned on me. “You never meant to fall into bed with your co-worker? I knew eventually you would break my heart. Knew you wouldn’t be anything but trouble, but I allowed myself to fall for you and your promises that you wouldn’t do to me what all the men before me had done to you.” Len eyed me for a few tense moments. “Do you love him?”
“Yes, Noel. Tell us. Do you love me?” Grayson interjected himself into our conversation.
I ignored him and stepped closer to Len. I wanted to grab his hand, drag him inside, shut the door, and pretend this night never happened. Go back to the moment he proposed and I said yes. Forget about soul mates and bobbing arrows and Cupid. But, I wasn’t a coward and all these weeks of lying needed to end.
“No, Len. I don’t love Grayson.” I leveled my gaze at Grayson so he knew I meant the words that came next. “I never have and I never will.”
Grayson met my gaze head on. With a lazy smile he said, “That’s right, it was just hot sex in a pre-registered hotel every other week.”
Nice way to stick the knife in and twist, asshole. And Cupid wondered why I never let myself fall in love with the bastard.
Len rushed past me, knocking me on my ass, on his way to confront Grayson. “You son of a bitch.” The third time I had ever heard him swear; it had to be some kind of record, and not one I wanted to be the cause of.
I rubbed at the sore spot on the back of my head where it had connected with the ground, scrambled to my feet, and wedged myself between the two men about to throw down on my porch.
“Nice mess you’ve got us in, Noel.” Grayson sounded more amused than pissed off.
Splat. Len’s fist hit Grayson right in the nose. Bone crunched, blood flew, and Grayson’s smile went MIA. He held his nose, leaned against the railing, pulled a handkerchief from his pants, and began wiping away the blood dripping from his nostrils.
To his credit, he didn’t fight back, which was good, because in a fight between Len and Grayson, my money was on Grayson.
“Len stop.” I grabbed his arm and pulled him to the porch swing and sat him down. “I think you broke his nose.” I pointed at Grayson, who worked at blotting the blood off the sleeve of his now-ruined shirt.
“That’s not all I’m going to break.” Len jumped up from the swing and went after Grayson again.
To stop any more blood from hitting the porch floor, I raced after him and snagged the back of his shirt. “Grayson, go.” There was a lot more pleading in my voice than authority.
Len turned. Hurt, anger, and betrayal stared at me through his darkened eyes. “Why are you protecting him?” He stepped
back.
“I’m not protecting him, but battling it out on my porch won’t make things better.” I moved closer. “And it won’t change anything.”
Len’s fingers wrapped around my wrist, slid to my palm, and then entwined with mine. He gave my hand a slight shake to get my attention. I tore my gaze away from Grayson and focused on the man whose heart I smashed to smithereens. “Why did you do this to us?” His voice still hardened by anger.
“Yea, why?” Grayson spoke up from his permanent spot on my porch, and once again pushed me to answer the questions I wasn’t prepared for.
Questions I didn’t even know the answer to.
“I can’t explain why.” Once again I was being honest, a new Noel record. It was against the rules. The world couldn’t know there were people out there who manipulated their lives. “I wish things were different, that Grayson didn’t exist.” I leaned against the wood railing. “I never wanted to hurt you, I only wanted to make you happy.”
“Then forget about Grayson, about what happened.” Len grabbed my hand again. “I can try to overlook one indiscretion if you could promise me it won’t happen again. The trust would be broken, but we could always rebuild.”
I’d give anything to make that promise and be able to keep it. Walk away from Grayson, Cupid, the whole mess, but according to our boss, one soul mate can’t live without the other. Nope, the only way out of this Cupid-created catastrophe was a one-way ticket to Holy Hope Cemetery in a mahogany box.
Cupid had a sick sense of humor and a messed up idea of reality.
In my newfound need-to-be-honest-about-everything code of ethics, I knew I couldn’t make that promise. At least until I found my way free. I lowered my head, not wanting him to see the hurt my next words would cause. “That’s not a promise I can keep.”
“You’re going to continue to sleep with this asshole?” He pointed at the asshole in question.
If he only knew all the dirty details of my relationship with Grayson. Not only would I continue to sleep with him, but I’d be with him until death do us part. I swallowed over the lump in my throat and nodded my head.
He opened his hand and my fingers fell free. “You disgust me.”
Len turned his back on me, he wrenched the door opened and it slammed against the wood siding. He went inside, probably off to pack his stuff and get out of my life forever. His footfalls pounded up the stairs and then the bedroom door slammed, echoing through the house. The man of my dreams had just slipped between my fingers because of a man I didn’t want and a lifetime of indentured servitude I never asked for.
Anger started at the tip of my toes and erupted like a slow moving volcano, boiling through my veins, through my flesh, until I focused my rage on the only person left standing on my porch. Grayson—who sparked the match and set fire to all my hopes and dreams.
“Fucking happy?” I rushed forward, hands in tight fists at my side. “Did you get what you wanted?” Tears poured and I used his chest as my own personal anger management dummy.
He grabbed my wrists and held them tight. “Do you think I want to see you hurt?” His voice soft, like he meant what he said.
Nothing more than a trick. A slick trick to convince me he wasn’t evil.
I pulled my hands out of his grasp and tried to push him down the steps. “Then why did you come here? Why did you force me to come clean?” I wiped away the tears. “If you thought forcing me to tell Len about us would send me running into your arms, you were wrong.”
Grayson flinched at my hurled hatefulness. “Because you don’t belong with him, and he doesn’t belong with you. Noel, this is for the best.”
His words didn’t register. They didn’t sneak in to calm me, and they certainly didn’t make me feel better. All they did was cause that volcano of hatred and anger to bubble over the surface.
“Best for who? You? Because it’s not for me.” I shoved at his chest, propelling him toward the stairs. “Go. Just go. I don’t want you here.”
He removed my hands and pinned them down to my side, stopping any attempt to shove him out of my life and off my steps. “I’m not leaving. If I’m not here, you’ll find a way to patch things up, beg him to stay.”
Twisting my hands out of his, I stepped back. “Damn right I will. Now. Go.” I tried pushing him again, but his feet stayed glued to the porch.
I pointed to his Audi. “Get in your car, and get the hell out of here.” I crossed my arms over my chest, and turned my back on him, letting him know my lips were zipped. Conversation over. I had nothing else to say.
After a few moments of tense silence, his car keys rattled, and he placed his hand on the sore spot on my head, a soft touch. “Don’t do anything stupid.” He pushed off the railing and walked to the steps. “Sweet dreams, Noel.” His parting words before he bounced down the steps in his polished dress shoes, got in his car, and drove away.
The Audi disappeared down the winding road, taking the biggest problem in my life with it. My trembling hands touched the chilly wood railing, and I stood listening to the water roll over the rocks in my tiny front yard creek, but even the comfort that sound usually brought didn’t even begin to squash the hurt.
Garnering courage, I squeezed my eyes shut for a split second, pushed off the railing, then wandered into the living room, and sank into the deep, well-worn seats of the brown-leather sofa. My head flopped back and rested on a plaid throw Len had given me two Christmas’ ago because I had a bad habit of falling asleep during movies. Footsteps pounded overhead, drawers opened and slammed shut. Probably clearing out his things from our bedroom, getting ready to clear himself out of my life. My heart hoped he was just pissed off and slamming his way into our bed, but my brain knew it was worse. Much worse.
Where would he go? He had given up his apartment two years ago and moved in with me. The house and everything in it belonged to me, my inheritance when my parents passed away in a car wreck four years ago.
Len stormed down the stairs, a suitcase in one hand—my brain was right—a duffle bag hanging off his shoulder. He marched through the foyer, not once glancing in my direction. I couldn’t let him leave without saying something, but what?
“Len, wait.” I caught up to him before he walked over the threshold.
But he didn’t stop. Didn’t turn around. Didn’t look my way. Didn’t bother to hear my promise that I would continue to fight for him. Instead he gave me a one-finger salute and yelled, “Rot in hell.”
Four swear words in one night. I think I might have destroyed my fiancé.
* * * *
Pounding at the door. Loud. Insistent. Annoying. My head rolled off the pillow and my body followed. I tried standing, but something had happened to my legs. Oh yeah, the tequila.
The room spun like I had spent all night on a tilt-a-whirl, and my stomach rocked-and-rolled to the beat of the annoying eighty’s music they always played at those parking lot carnivals. On my hand and knees, I crawled my way between the couch and the coffee table. My knees knocked into an empty bottle of tequila and sent it rolling under the couch, before they landed in the melted remains of a pint of Dulce de Leche. I stumbled into the foyer and collapsed in a heap in front of the door.
“Open up, Noel. I can hear you snoring.”
Grayson. Probably here to thumb his nose and chant nanny-nanny-boo-boo.
“Go away.” The lock clicked, knob turned and the door slammed into my head. “Shit.” I grabbed my dented noggin and managed to scoot far enough away to avoid another brain damaging assault.
Grayson strolled by and took in all my drunken glory. “Wow. You’ve never looked sexier.” And even though he sounded as angry as I felt, he knelt next to me and felt around my head to make sure my skull wasn’t damaged.
“Don’t want you here.” I pushed his hands away and crawled back to the living room, hoping he’d go away. When I didn’t hear him leave, I yelled, “How’d you get in anyway?”
Grayson followed me into the room holding a dirt-c
overed key. “Spare key buried in the flower pot at the front door. You told me about it one day at the motel.”
Note to self: no more momentary lapses of judgment after an orgasm.
He moved closer to where I had collapsed and bent down. “Want me to lift you on the couch?”
I looked at the soft leather cushions, then back at the hard wood floor. I really wanted back on the couch, but the thought of Grayson’s arms around me and the lust it would lead to repulsed me. The floor sucked, but I’d rather get splinters than accept any help from the manipulative bastard.
Grayson pulled the throw off the cushion and wrapped it around any exposed skin. He snaked one arm under my knees and the other around my back and lifted. The sudden movement caused the ice cream and tequila to mix, creating a lump of cement in my stomach that my body wanted to repel. Repel it did. All over Grayson’s black T-shirt.
If it had been me, I would have tossed me back on the floor and left me there, but Grayson just grimaced and lowered me on to the couch. He slipped the shirt off, wadded it into a ball, and used it to wipe his pants free of vomit. “There’s nicer ways to get me naked.”
An apology almost passed my lips, and then I remembered who I was about to apologize to and knew it wouldn’t be sincere. “Go somewhere and die.”
“Not until I’ve checked on how you’re taking the big break-up.” He picked a chunk of slimy gunk off his bicep. “Not very well I see.”
I flopped onto my side, which caused a tsunami of puke to roll through my insides. “Bucket,” I managed before my mouth filled.
Grayson grabbed my favorite margarita pitcher off the coffee table and handed it to me. I immediately filled it with something a lot less pleasant than lime and tequila.
The supposed-to-be-the-man-of-my-dreams plugged his nose and pulled out his iPhone. “Say cheese.”
I flipped him the bird.
He snapped the picture and held it up so I could see. “A reminder for the next time you screw up.” He admired his photography. “You’re literally green.”