“Fuck me,” I said out loud before realizing I meant to keep that thought in my head.
She had been just about to go through the door I was holding open, but she turned toward me. “What did you just say?”
Caught red handed. I shook my head. “Oh, I just remembered that I forgot to pick up some dog food for Jessica. Which means I’m going to have to get some on my way back from the game tomorrow. I just hate worrying about extra stuff on game day.”
“Oh.” Her eyes caught mine.
We looked at each other for a millisecond too long. I felt her moving towards me. Shit, damn near grabbed her right there, threw her up against the wall, and felt that soft body of hers against me. But then she smiled and stepped into the bar, erasing that possibility, though her body brushed up against mine as she passed. I pushed my own ego aside, and reminded myself that tonight wasn’t about me; it was about giving Amy—the best female friend that I’d managed not to scare away—a night that she’d never forget.
Inside, the place was only about half full, just like I’d planned.
“Still pretty empty,” I said. “No waitstaff, we just order at the bar here. Why don’t you grab a booth, and I’ll order us a bottle of wine. Sound good?”
She smiled, and did that fucking arm thing again, this time giving my bicep a healthy squeeze. It seemed I’d have to live on those small touches forever. “Yeah, of course. You’re the boss tonight. I’m all yours.”
What was it with this woman and mixed signals?
“Cool,” I said, and this time I returned her touch, caressing her lower back ever so slightly.
She turned and walked away to find a booth.
You’re the boss. I’m all yours. I played her words over again in my head as the bartender opened me up a bottle and handed me two glasses. I can be your fucking boss, Amy. I’m a great fucking boss. I have some very bossy things I’d like to do to you. And then I just might let you boss me around, too.
“Thanks man.” I handed the bartender a twenty Euro bill and told him to keep the change. He smiled back.
“Your novia is very pretty,” he said in Spanglish, nodding in Amy’s direction. She was smiling and bobbing her head to the beat, basically dancing in her seat.
“Not my novia,” I corrected him. “We’re not dating. Just my good amiga.”
“Ohhh. I see.” He smiled and then leaned and gestured for me to do the same. “She’s your amigovia.”
“Amigovia?” I repeated, trying to translate that into proper English. “Amiga means friend, and novia means girlfriend, so, do you mean friends with benefits?”
“No!” The bartender wagged his finger at me. “No. Amigovia is…your best friend who you fuck.”
My eyes widened a bit that this Spanish bartender had just dropped an F-bomb. Then again, most everyone who spoke even a little bit of English knew fuck was one of the most common words in the spoken English language.
“Amigovia is different than that friends with benefits?” I asked, for clarification.
He nodded enthusiastically. “Now you understand, Americano!” I actually didn’t understand what he meant. Apparently, the subtlety of the phrase was lost on me. But with that nod, he headed to the other end of the bar to tend to another customer. I shook off the interaction and headed to the booth where Amy was sitting.
Why was everything that was happening tonight seemed so weird?
Then again, maybe I was the weird one who kept on reading into every little thing that happened.
“Your wine, Señorita Squirt,” I said as I set a glass down on the table and poured a glass for Amy. “Care to taste?”
She swirled her glass and stuck her nose far inside then took a sip. “These are by far the sexiest tannins I’ve ever had,” she said, grinning.
Chuckling, I slid in the booth across from her and filled my glass with the deep red liquid then set the bottle between us. “Thanks. People have always told me my tannins are adorable. It’s nice to hear them be called sexy for once. Cheers.”
We clinked glasses and each took down a healthy first gulp.
“What took you so long?” Amy asked upon putting her glass down.
“Eh, bartender was explaining something to me.”
“What was he explaining?”
Amy ran her finger on the rim of her wine glass.
Well, if Amy could easily talk about sex, so could I. “He was telling me what the word amigovia means.”
Her brows furrowed, like mine probably had when trying to decipher the English meaning. “What does it mean?”
“It’s like…amiga plus novia. But not like friends with benefits. It’s like a friend and girlfriend in one.”
She raised both her brows. “Sounds like a pretty sweet deal. I mean, I hope to be best friends with my future…” She trailed off, as if searching for the right word. “You know. My future man.”
I stared at her smile, which was all at once angelic and devilish. Then she leaned back in the booth and sighed. “Chandler, this was exactly what I needed. Just a relaxed night talking about stupid shit with you. Damn, I forgot how much I loved hanging out with you.”
“So you think talking about amigovia is just stupid shit?” I asked as I refilled our wine glasses. We were drinking rapidly. College style.
She gave me a surprised look. “No. Not really. Actually I think it sounds pretty great. I just meant…that I feel comfortable with you. With David—pretty much every guy I dated back home come to think of it—I always felt like we were trying to one up each other when we were on dates. Or like they were trying to impress me. And therefore, I felt like I had to impress them. And the result was I felt so fake. I don’t feel like I have to impress you, for some reason, though. We’re just ‘us’, you know?”
“I do. I know exactly what you mean. I feel the same way around you. It’s great,” I said, meaning it.
“It just makes me wonder, you know?”
“Wonder what, Amelita?” I asked, waiting.
Her eyes got soft at my endearment. “Wonder how you and me would be if we ever gave it a go.”
I froze, glass to my lips. I took a fortifying sip then set it down.
She’d finally crossed the line.
“Fuck, Amy. Of course I’ve thought about it. You’re sexy as fuck, smart as hell, and you’ve got a great ass.”
She smiled. “You think I’ve got a great ass?”
I leaned in and stared right in her eyes with a big cocky smirk across my face. “You think I really said fuck me because I forgot to pick up the dog’s food today? I was watching you watch through the fucking door. You are the sexiest woman I’ve ever laid eyes on, Amy. I’ve imagined many times what a sweaty all nighter with you would be like.”
I closed my mouth, but kept smiling. This time, she was the one who was at a loss for words, not me. Her chest rose and fell deeply, like she was taking deep breaths.
“Fuck me,” she muttered, lowering her gaze and staring at her wine.
“Amy, you’ve got to be clearer with me. Was that a general fuck me, this is crazy, or was that a please fuck me tonight?”
She leaned across the table. “That was a ‘I want to break the pact tonight kind of fuck me’.”
Finally. But she looked terrified at breaking her own rules. Even though I was getting exactly what I’d wanted since we met, I wasn’t going to rush her. No pressure, just take it one step at a time.
“If we’re going to do this, Squirt, we’re going to do this right.” I could see she was still nervous, but a smile returned to her face. “C’mon.” I stood up from the booth. “Let’s dance.”
“Yes, please.” I extended my hand toward her. She took it, and I led her to the dance floor.
Eighteen
Chandler
For the first hour or so on the dance floor, we danced a more traditional salsa. That is, I led her in the four-step patterns, making sure I threw in a trick now and then to keep Amy on her toes. If this was going to be our nigh
t, I was going to make it fucking last.
The woman could dance. I was sure every couple out on the dance floor was staring at us with how aggressive we were being. We’d danced before, years ago, and it wasn’t like I’d held back then. But this was a whole new ballgame. We’d crossed the line from friends to amigovias or whatever the hell we decided to call what we were. Every chance I got, I pulled her body in tight to mine, gripped the small of her back, my palm found it’s way to that incredible ass of hers quite a few times.
“I forgot how good you move,” she said, out of breath.
I chuckled and leaned my head down a bit so I could whisper in her ear. “If you think this is moving, wait until you see what I’m going to do with you when we get home.”
I swear I felt her goosebumps flow through her body. She just looked up at me, speechless.
I led her off the floor. We needed a break for a moment to cool off and rest a bit. We headed to the bar and ordered two Gin and Tonics.
We clinked our classes together. “To being amigovios,” Amy said before we both took sips of our drink. “To be honest Chandler, I don’t even feel drunk right now.”
“You don’t?”
“No. I’m drunk on you. I love fact that I finally don’t have to be discrete about feeling your bicep.”
She reached out and did the arm thing again, more deliberately this time.
“I’m happy I don’t have to be discrete about staring right at your gorgeous tits.”
She looked at me with a smile. “You’re such a perv. You know that, right?”
“With you, it’s hard not to be. It’s very hard.”
“Is it…hard?”
“See for yourself,” I said. “I dare you.”
I felt her hand in my front pocket, reaching around. She smiled at me as she searched. Then her eyes widened, her lips parted, and her voice sounded almost moan-like. “For the love of God Chandler.”
She removed her hand and placing it on my chest as she got on her tippy toes so her mouth could reach my ear. “I’ve never told this to anyone. But you’re the only person who I feel like won’t judge me for saying what I’m thinking. And Chandler, I can’t wait to get back to your place so I can feel that big, rock hard cock inside me.”
“Fuck,” I said, gritting my teeth.
I was learning a hidden talent of Amy’s: she could match my dirty talk pound for pound. With every heartbeat of mine, I felt my cock harden. Shit. At this rate I was going to be walking around in the club with a full blown erection pushing it’s way out of my pants like a spring daisy.
“It’s true,” she added, and then smiled. “I’ve wondered ever since I first saw you that day in the shower.”
I took another sip of my Gin and Tonic and let out a short laugh.
“What?” she asked.
“Well, if we are in full confessional mode, I’ve definitely rubbed many out to the fantasy of going down on you.”
Her eyes got all doe-eyed again. “You have? I mean, aside from the time I caught you? I’ll never forget watching you double fisting yourself and saying my name.”
“Yes. And tonight, you’re going to ride my face with that sexy pussy of yours. Got it?”
“Fuck, Chandler.”
I wrapped my hand gently around her hip, the bottom half of my hand falling on the curve of her ass. “It’s true. I’ve always wondered what you taste like.”
“Chandler, you need to stop.”
I scrunched up my face at her, confused. “What? Why?”
She looked around to make sure no one was listening. “You’re making me wet, and I only have on a thong.”
“Christ.”
I looked down at my little Amy, hot as fuck, sexy as hell in her little black thing.
“Amy.” The way I spoke her name was personal. It was meant just for her and only her, even though we were at the bar with a sea of people around us.
She leaned her head back a little bit, and I didn’t even think about what I was doing. I just acted. One of my hands pulled her hips into me and I leaned my face down to touch my lips to hers.
Her lips were soft. As we kissed, she let out a noise that was half moan and half purr. After a minute or two, we came up for air.
“Fuck me,” I growled.
“You felt that too?” Amy asked.
“That was fucking insane,” I answered. “I’ve never had a kiss like that.”
“I want more.” I could see the greed in her eyes, and I could relate. I wanted the whole damn thing.
I was about ready to just ask her if she wanted to head home when I felt a tap on my shoulder.
“Chandler!” I heard the high-pitched, squeaky voice behind me, and the smile disappeared from my face. I turned my head to look at her, though I already knew who it was.
Bethany was tall, much taller than Amy, and all dolled up tonight. She had applied maybe three times the amount of makeup Amy had on, and just about everything that could be showing, she was showing.
“So funny to run into you here!” she squealed and came in for a hug. I gave a quick one and quickly disengaged, including politely shaking her off me but she stuck close to me.
I didn’t need to look at Amy’s face to see the icy look she was sending to Bethany. I already knew what she was thinking. Just this morning, Nina; and now, Bethany. Ghosts of past hookups showing up whenever Amy and I were connecting was apparently going to be my lot in life.
“Um, hi,” I said, without any enthusiasm and didn’t smile. Bethany completely missed my point.
“You’re here with your…friend?” she asked with an air of disdain.
I was about to tell her to take a hike, but before I could, Amy grabbed my arm with both hands and stared Bethany down. “Well, we’re not just friends. I’m Chandler’s amigovia.”
“Oh?” She paused awkwardly for a moment, staring back and forth at me and Amy. “Well then. Have a good night.”
Amy watched Bethany as she walked away. I felt the tips of her fingernails dig into my arm. “Another one-night stand?” she asked, her voice colorless. I read it all in the way she looked at me. She was remembering why she’d made up the pact, and why she needed to enforce it.
“Forget her,” I said, trying for soothing but I could tell it just pissed her off. “She doesn’t matter.”
“Oh? Is that it? So there’s nothing between you?” Amy let go of me and began to furiously suck down her drink until the straw was pulling air through it, and ordered another. I finished mine to keep pace with her. “I almost forgot about your revolving door.”
I didn’t like the deadness to her eyes or her voice. It felt liked I’d wounded her in a way that I would never be able to heal. I watched as the hurt dissipated from her face and her guard went back up.
She started ordering drinks like she was on a mission, taking back shots like they were water. “Amy, what the fuck?” I said, alarmed. “You’re gonna get hammered!”
She looked at me, and this time her stare was blank. She looked like a stranger. “Exactly,” she said, her voice cold.
We’d already had a bottle of wine each, and several drinks. I’d drunk the same as her, and I’m over two hundred pounds of muscle. I did the math on Amy’s short petite frame, and even though she could hold her alcohol, I knew where this night was heading.
She was getting shit-faced. She was going to drink this night out of her head. Erase the truths we’d finally been able to say aloud. To each other.
“Squirt,” I said, gently. “What are you doing?”
“Don’t call me that.” She glared. “This was a dumb idea. And I’m embarrassed.”
Expressionless, I set my shot glass down, because there was nothing I could do at this point. I’d fucked up. And the problem Amy had wasn’t with anything I’d said or done tonight.
The problem she had was with who I was at my core.
Who I’d been for so many years.
The guy who sleeps with a girl and doesn’t call her back.
They guy who gives a girl the best night of her life, or sometimes ten, and then gets bored and pulls the disappearing act.
I couldn’t change who I am, and that was a deal breaker for Amy.
I wasn’t going to plead. I wasn’t going to beg her.
There was no sense in that.
But, for the first time in my life, I felt a pang of something I had never felt before: regret.
Because of my womanizing ways, now I’d never have the one girl who I could see a future with. The fact that I even wanted to attempt something more surprised even me but to have her, I’d have to be willing to give us a chance. And that meant something lasting, something more permanent. Did that mean the ‘forever’ kind? I wasn’t sure but for the first time, the idea of that appealed to me. Because it was Amy, and out of any woman I’d ever known, the memory of her had never faded. I knew that if I admitted that to her right now, she’d throw it back in my face. She’d say I would say anything to sleep with her when sleeping with her would just be the beginning.
I considered taking another shot, to drown my own fucking sorrow, but I’d been down that road before, and it wasn’t something that interested me.
Besides, someone was going to have to get Amy home tonight.
I ordered a water and did what I could to control the train wreck that was unraveling before my eyes, history repeating itself.
***
I helped Amy up the stairs to my apartment, half carrying her so we could make it all the way up. When we made it to our floor, Jessica greeted us with her wagging tail. I led Amy to my bed and laid her across it.
“Chandler!” she giggled, in full on shit-faced mode.
I helped her pry off her fuck-me boots. Earlier in the night, I had fantasized about this very moment. But it had gone down much differently in my head.
“What are you doing?” She seemed suddenly confused. “And where are we?”
I took a deep breath and managed to get boot number one off her foot. That’s when she leaned back on the bed and smiled while she pointed her legs and arms toward the ceiling and wiggled them around.
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