“Where are you going now?” My mom spins around in her chair to face me. Unfortunate for me, she catches me before I make it to the front door.
“Um, to hang out with Aiden. He’s a friend. From work.” My heart races from my admission. I’m still dating Dan and I think that’s why my parents are eyeing me now. They don’t care for my current beau, but that doesn’t mean they’d approve of me cheating on him either. But what they don’t know won’t hurt them.
“Wearing that?” I glance down at my outfit—the same outfit I was wearing out shopping with Callie. I think I look good and as a bonus, I feel good. It’s not like I’m wearing a freaking negligée.
I have a loose gray tank top over a hot pink camisole. Paired with jean shorts and my Nike air max sneakers, it’s comfy and casual while still being cute. I don’t know what the problem is.
“Yes. What’s it matter? This is fine.” My voice is tight because I’m defensive which makes me appear guilty.
“Does Dan know you’re hanging out with this work friend?” Shit. She caught me. No, she questioned me about Nate too. She should realize by now I’m friends with people I work with. What’s the big deal?
“He knows we’re friends.” It’s not a lie, not completely. Dan knows about Aiden, considering I talk about him and how funny he is often. Half the time I need to stop myself from going on for ages talking about another guy. It’s a lie of omission—I answered the question, just not fully. “I have to go. Bye.”
I rush down the steps before they can utter another word. I message Aiden to tell him I’m on my way and he responds right away, telling me to come in when I get there. With my shit memory I’m praying I remember which apartment is his.
It’s still Friday, and I saw him less than nine hours ago, and yet I’m eager to see him again. This could be problematic.
When I get to his place, I’m a ball of nervous energy walking into the apartment. I’m not sure how to act with him. Sure, he saw me naked and made my earth shatter less than twenty-four hours ago, but it’s uncomfortable territory. I never thought I’d be in this situation with him.
Do I walk up and kiss him? Do I hug him? Do I say hello? What’s he expecting? Should I strip naked and spread my legs if that’s all he wants?
I know for a fact he’s less of a relationship guy and more of a friends-with-benefits guy. And I’m still with Dan. I have to keep reminding myself of that little fact, though I’m not sure I care anymore. Obviously.
As I step over the threshold, I can see down the hallway to Aiden sitting on his couch, an Xbox controller in his hands. We greet each other with “heys” and I sit beside him, awkward and out of place. A part of me is glad he’s preoccupied, so I didn’t have to worry about how to greet him.
I fidget with my phone as I wait for his game to end. Unlike Dan, Aiden doesn’t make me wait long. As soon as it’s over, he places the controller on the coffee table and turns to face me.
“Come here.” I scoot over into his embrace and he holds me in his arms. We fit like two puzzle pieces. I inhale his scent, his musky cologne intertwining with stale cigarette smoke. When we pull apart, he kisses me, his lips soft. “I missed you.”
“You just saw me.” I don’t meet his eyes, and I don’t admit I missed him too.
“Sorry you can’t stay over tonight. I’m leaving early in the morning for the beach.” It’s fourth of July weekend and he got off work for the entirety of it. I didn’t realize it was because he’d be gone all weekend. My upbeat mood deflates in an instant.
“Oh, okay. It’s no big deal.” I try to act nonchalant, but I’m sure he catches the sadness in my tone as my voice falters and becomes watery.
“Come with me.” His voice vibrates so low and muted I’m sure I didn’t hear him correctly.
“What?” My confusion comes out breathily as a smile plays on my lips.
He pulls back, looking me in the eye. His yearning is clear as his stormy grays gaze into my hazels. “Come to the beach with me.” He searches my eyes, waiting for my agreement. I’m sure he sees longing and desire in them.
“I can’t. I have to work this weekend.” With our top seller, aka him, being gone, the rest of us have to pick up the slack. It’s already evident how difficult this relationship could be with our schedules. This is only the second day and we’re already having problems.
Instant depression consumes me. There’s nothing I want more than to go to the beach with him this weekend. I barely get any hours at work but with the holiday weekend it’ll be busy. Of all the freaking times I have to work.
“That’s okay. Another time.” He grins at me and it’s dangerous and filled with promises he won’t keep, but my naïve little heart believes him, anyway.
We’re sitting so close. My right knee touches his left thigh. The contact gives me butterflies. I try to mask my disappointment but I do a poor job. He can read right through me.
“Hey.” He uses his hand to lift my chin, forcing me to look him in the eye. “You okay?”
My mind has wandered to the dark, depressing depths of my reality. He’s going away for an entire weekend with all his single buddies. He’ll be out at bars and partying with hot women who are his age and wearing skimpy clothes. They’ll offer him hot sex with no strings while I’ll be here looking like a damn marionette with all my strings.
But I can’t tell him any of this. I need to be cool. Casual.
I meet his eyes. They’re gray like the sky before a storm which is appropriate considering that’s how he entered my life. It’s beautiful in the midst of it, but it’s dangerous and it’s only a matter of time before it ends. In the wreckage, I will be ruined. I’ll be left to pick up all my broken pieces and all the debris he’ll leave behind so carelessly.
That’s why I sit here and study him. I study his eyes, the curve of his smile, which is different when he’s carefree versus when he’s being cocky or flirty. I study his hair and how my fingers glide through and pull the short, dark strands. I memorize his stubble and how it scratches me when I kiss him.
I memorize every moment and every detail about him because it won’t last. I know, somehow, deep in my subconscious, this will end.
I lean in and our lips meet. It starts slow and sweet, our tongues languid in their entanglement. He moves me so I’m straddling his lap. I grind my heat into his erection and it’s borderline embarrassing how eager I am. We break apart and I whimper at the loss of contact.
“Upstairs?” His voice is gruff and terribly sexy from his arousal. All I can do is nod in response.
We’re insatiable. One round turns into two—I think. It could be one long session of marathon sex—the kind that happens in books and movies, or it might be it’s multiple times. Either way, I could do this every single day for the rest of my life.
That’s when I know I’m already in way too deep.
9
Weightless
I’m smitten. Like a combination of a school-girl-crush meets puppy-love meets first-real-gut-wrenching-love. It’s not love yet, and the overwhelming number of orgasms I’m having are skewing my emotions.
Even with the rational part of my brain knowing that, my head and heart have argued with one another, but my lady parts are ignoring them both. I’m having loads of hot, out-of-this-world sex. The problem is, it’s not with my boyfriend.
With Aiden away for the weekend, I live up to being the coward I am and avoid Dan like the freaking plague.
I hang out with my friends and drink. I celebrate my sister’s birthday. And, the real reason I keep myself distracted and busy is because I don’t text Aiden. I can’t seem clingy. What twenty-two-year-old wants a stage-fiver eighteen-year-old fuck buddy? None, that’s who.
Sunday night, the day before Independence Day, my phone vibrates and I lunge for it as if I’ll die if I don’t open the message the second I receive it. My heart continues to hammer like it’s a woodpecker attacking my ribcage when I notice the message is from Aiden. I haven’t even opene
d the text yet and my face already hurts from smiling.
Aiden: I wish you were here watching these with me
Accompanying the message is a picture of the firework display he’s watching at the beach. My heart simultaneously melts and soars at the sentiment. If he’s saying that to me, there’s no way he’s with anyone else.
My reply is simple and straight to the point. I wish I was too.
I’m already counting down the days until I see him next.
Instead of moping at home all weekend, I hang out with Nate. He’s having a fourth of July party this weekend and next weekend he’s having a party for his birthday. I’m spending a lot of time with him and I feel like I can tell him anything.
I can’t tell him about Aiden, though. But I want to. I want to tell everyone I slept with Aiden and it was the most amazing sex I could’ve ever dreamt up. I want everyone to know he’s mine, but that’s impossible.
But I promised him I wouldn’t tell anyone, and I’d be damned if I told Nate of all people when he and Aiden despise one another.
I’m also using Nate to continue avoiding Dan, even though I need to bite the bullet soon and dump him instead of bitching out and hiding.
“Who’re you talking to?” I exit out of my messages as my overbearing friend peeks over my shoulder.
“What? No one. Dan. Ya know, my boyfriend.” Wow, be a little more obvious, Chels. Jesus fucking Christ.
“Bullshit. You hate your boyfriend. Did you finally dump him?” Nate’s smile spreads, blinding me, and I need to pump the damn breaks. Sometimes the way he looks at me makes me believe he’s seeing more than friendship.
“Not yet. I’m working on it. There’s someone else, but it’s so new I don’t want to jinx it.” I’m not even lying.
“We’ll come back to your superstitions later, but first, you’re cheating on your boyfriend? I didn’t think you had it in you.” He raises his hand to offer me a high-five and now I’m disturbed.
I’m being a total dick cheating on Dan, and it’s hypocritical that Nate’s appraisal turns my stomach. Does he want to cheat on Donna? He claims to love her so much yet his actions and hell, even his words sometimes prove otherwise.
I ignore him and I make sure I’m super careful with my texting. I should change Aiden’s name in my phone so neither Nate nor Dan catch on.
I leave Nate’s house when his other friends show up a few hours later. I’m not in the mood to hang out with a bunch of dudes right now. The sole guy I want to be with is hours away enjoying his time at the beach. Fuck me.
∞ ∞ ∞
I’ve always known July fifth as my sister’s birthday. We’d have a huge Independence Day slash birthday party to celebrate the birth of her and, well, America. My parents have a pool so we’d swim if the weather was nice, and family would come over and we’d have a large picnic spread.
This year is even more epic. For me, anyway. Aiden got home late last night, and I drove right over to see him and now I get to wake up to the scent of him lying beside me in his bed. His arm is draped over my side, caging me into him.
I could get used to this, and that thought alone stops me in my tracks.
I shouldn’t get used to this. It’s dangerous to become comfortable with an intangible idea that, thus far, has had no indication of a solid future. There’s no solid foundation supporting us to begin with. We had sex a couple of times and already I’m trying to think of our celebrity name.
Would it be Chaiden? Ailsea? Chelden? Aidsea?
Even our couple name is doomed.
I stretch, moaning as my sore muscles loosen. My movement or the noise must stir my bedmate because his hand stars drifting down over my hip. I roll over in his arms and notice Little Aiden has also awoken this morning.
Though, I guess I can’t call him Little considering he’s anything but.
After a not-so-quick and incredibly satisfying morning romp in the sack, he needs to get ready for work while I have other things I must attend to.
“I have to get to work soon. What’re your plans for today?” His half-lidded eyes continue to stare at my bare chest despite the fact we just got done romping around.
“I have something I need to do. I’ll fill you in later.” We kiss and our mouths linger, never getting my fill of his sweet mouth.
I leave Aiden’s and find myself at Dan's house, which is in poor taste considering I just let another guy bone me senseless. Which leads me to the hard truth of what I have to do. Despite the fact I no longer have feelings for him, it's still hard. He's been in my life for the last year and a half and he cares about me even if he sucks at showing it.
Dan leans in to kiss me and I turn to give him my cheek. I’m sure he can tell something is going on. He eyes me with skepticism and I'm sure my face shows how nervous I am.
"What's going on?" He shoves his hands into his pockets, taking a step away from me. We’re standing on his front porch and he’s studying me. His brows furrow as he tries to read into my soul to find answers he likely doesn’t want.
I let out a deep breath, push my shoulders back, and meet his gaze. My bosy radiates false confidence, but my voice doesn’t get the memo. Quiet, shaky and cliché, my voice wobbles as I say, "We need to talk."
He walks into his living room as I follow behind. I lean down to pet his dog, a distraction tactic to void eye contact and allowing me to stall this imminent conversation.
"I don't think this is working anymore." Like word vomit, everything comes pouring out of me and I can't seem to stop it. I'm angry and hurt and upset after being placed on the back burner for the past eighteen months. I deserve better. “You're more into your car than you are into me. You're reckless and irresponsible and you don't care about me.”
He’s shocked though I can’t imagine why. If he paid me even an ounce of attention, he’d realize this was coming. But I guess there’s my answer, because he never gave me even one ounce of attention.
I’m now sitting on the floor petting his yellow lab. Is it sad, or telling, knowing the sole thing I’ll miss most about this relationship is his dog? This guy was my first real boyfriend—he took my virginity, he took me to prom, and I’m not even shedding a tear.
“Chels, where is this coming from?”
“It’s coming from the past year and a half of me wasting my time and being treated like shit. I’m sick of it.” He hesitates for a while, thinking. His jaw works as he debates his next words.
“Is this about that guy you work with?” Okay, I guess he’s not totally clueless. My silence is all the answer he needs. “You act like I haven’t noticed you texting nonstop and staring at your phone smiling. You talk about him all the time and how funny he is. Every time I see you anymore you find some reason to talk about him. You could at least be a little less obvious.”
He’s mad and lashing out, and he has the right. This is about Aiden, anyway. As terrible as it is to say, I wouldn’t have the balls to dump Dan if Aiden hadn’t come along and rocked my freaking world.
What my soon-to-be ex-boyfriend doesn’t realize is, him lashing out lights a fire under my ass. And I have a short fuse and a wicked temper.
“So now you notice me after over a year of ignoring me? We’ve had the most fucked-up relationship from the get-go! You take my virginity in a bathroom, for God’s sake, and then you tell all your friends about our sex life and how you can’t get me off, which is not only embarrassing for you but also a gross invasion of privacy. Oh, and guess what,” I lift my head in defiance and look him dead in the eye as I say the next words, knowing they will hurt him, “Aiden made me come when we slept together.”
That’s a sore spot for Dan because in the year and a half he and I have been together, he has never once got me off. At first, I thought I was broken and something was wrong with me. Was it because I was new at sex and didn’t know what I liked? Was my vagina not made properly? Am I doomed to have terrible, depressing sex for my entire life?
Thank the Lord Jesus the answer
is no. Dan just sucks in bed and never learned what a fucking clitoris is. There’s nothing wrong with me but there’s something wrong with him. Would it be rubbing salt in his wounds to say, it’s not me, it’s you?
I’m a huge bitch, but I can’t help feeling the slightest bit of joy as he crumbles. How can he be this upset over me after leaving me on the sidelines for so long? If he cared this much why didn’t he ever show it?
“He got you off?” Really? That’s the first thing he says? His voice cracks at the end of the question. Yes, you underachieving, selfish cockhound. I want to scream from the rooftops, I had a fucking orgasm, but I don’t think my father would appreciate it.
“Yep.” I’m being harsh on purpose. He’s upset and shit, he’s crying.
How much of an asshole am I considering right now I want to laugh at the ridiculous face he’s making? I can’t handle the fact he’s crying. He hasn’t given a rat’s ass about me for the entirety of our relationship and yet now, because it’s biting him in the ass, he’s upset. It’s fucking laughable.
“I don’t want to lose you.” My jaw has dropped. There’s no way he’s serious. Are there hidden cameras in here? He’s done nothing but put me at least second in his life, and that’s if I’m lucky. More often than not, he’s not even that generous.
“It’s a little late for that.” He won’t change my mind and I’m getting frustrated that the fire left him. Literal moments ago I infuriated him, and now he’s weeping beside me on the floor while I avoid eye contact. It’s embarrassing for both of us.
“No, you don’t get it. I don’t care if you keep sleeping with him just…don’t break up with me.” My eyes open wide, like saucers, as I stare at him. Again, where are the hidden cameras? This is…there are no words for what this is.
A part of me wants to burst out laughing because this is a joke, right? Still, I think my face is frozen solid in a combination of shock and disgust. I got a taste of heaven. He can’t think I’d settle for less anymore.
There’s one sole, weak, tiny puppeteer tugging on a single heartstring and making me experience an ounce of guilt for Dan. He’s distraught—still crying—and begging me to stay. Isn’t this what I wanted from him all along? Attention, and most of all, love?
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