Guys Like You

by Vivian Kohlman

  We walked slowly; I was more tired and tipsy than I thought. What started out as a fun night with my emotions in tact—thanks to King’s reassurances—has ended with me being more upset than I’ve been all week. On top of that, I’m deeply embarrassed by the scene that just played out, and completely humiliated.

  Miko kept his hand on my back, guiding the way through the casino, then the corridor to the elevators. I kept scanning the area, worried that King would be looking for me. Or maybe I was just hoping he would; I don’t even know anymore.

  I remembered him asking that I don’t lock him out, that I always get his side of the story before coming to my conclusions. But fuck that—how is his side going to make what I just experienced go away? And those pictures; she had multiple pictures of the two of them. OK, they could have been photo-shopped, but still.

  What can’t be fake is that he put us in this situation. He created this scenario; a scenario where it’s perfectly normal for me to get confronted by some woman my boyfriend has slept with and whose intention is to humiliate me on camera. I need to be out of the public eye—and far from her cameraman’s lens—to sort through all of this.

  Once safe inside the room, Miko said he was going to order room service and asked if I wanted anything. I opted for a cheeseburger and a bottle of wine. Why not consume my emotions until I feel better?

  Miko’s bar was stocked so he pulled out a bottle of Pinot Grigio to get me through the half hour or so it’ll take for room service to arrive. He poured us each a glass and joined me on the sofa, where I was sitting and staring off into space until my curiosity got the best of me.

  Knowing I’m a glutton for punishment, I picked up Miko’s iPad and looked up the MMA site—I needed to know how they spun this story and just how stupid I look. …and I wasn’t disappointed.

  They had a few pictures posted already, all of which made me look like a deranged psychopath, and Layla like an innocent beauty queen. There was a shot of me yelling at her with my eyes wide and my fists clenched, another of me shoving her back with the phony look of innocent shock on her face, and the last one of her smirking while I walked away crying. Nice.

  The worst picture was saved for the article on another page; it was taken when Layla was yelling at me and I looked dumbstruck, and the caption read “Getting Schooled”. This article was all about how Layla told me King was bored of me and wanted her, and this time, they used my full name and noted my age. Fanfuckingtastic.

  I scrolled down and saw another picture of Layla—in the same red dress she was wearing in the club—with her hand on a martini and a second martini glass next to her’s. This one has to be made-up; King won’t drink alcohol until after the fight. Then again, King wasn’t even in these pictures; it just implied that he was with her.

  The write-up around that picture said that Layla was heard laughing about our fight. I also noted that none of the pictures that Layla showed me on her phone were on this site. But at the bottom of that section was a video with “See for Yourself” written next to it.

  “Jesus. Look at this, Miko,” I said, handing him the iPad.

  “Holy shit,” he said under his breath as he sat down on the chair next to the sofa. He took the time to skim through the article, then watched part of the video.

  I stayed quiet and allowed the tears to stream down my face, while I tucked my legs underneath me and took another sip of wine.

  They made a joke of me. Even if King doesn’t know about this, he’s certainly the cause of it. All of this is his fault for getting involved with these people, for taking my life in this low-browed direction. And now I’m the one that looks like a fool. I put my glass down and blew my nose, as the tears continued to fall out of my eyes.

  “Ava, I’ve never seen you like this. Talk to me, please,” he asked gently.

  “I don’t know what to say,” I said as a hysterical laugh left my throat. “I think I’m still in shock. I honestly don’t know what to believe anymore. I mean, King’s never lied to me, as far as I know, but I’m pretty sure he’d be able to. And all the pictures so far have been faked, so the ones she showed me shouldn’t bother me at all. But it was what she said. Everything she claimed could be true. And she talked about them physically, and it resonated. Not to mention that her reason for him being with her instead of me is what I always expected to happen; she claims he thinks I’m too young for him, and he’s tired of playing with a teenager,” I said with fresh tears pouring out of my eyes.

  Pain tore through my heart as I heard myself say the words out loud. It suddenly became real.

  “She might be right. He’s an asshole. He wanted you, and he got you. Now he wants someone else. Maybe that’s just how he is.”

  “Do you know I’m the first girlfriend he’s ever had? Maybe it was too much for him?”

  We continued to talk about the what-ifs and Miko patiently let me get everything out. The more I talked about it, the more stupid I felt…and the more reality sunk in.

  King doesn’t want me anymore. That thought resonated through me. My body shook from the chill that crept down my spine. How many hints can a guy drop before a silly girl realizes what’s going on?

  Even after the room service arrived and I dug into the cheeseburger, I was still crying. It took almost an hour for the tears to stop—the tears that started afresh at each detail I told Miko.

  But eventually, they stopped. Miko was opening a second bottle of wine as I washed my face in his bathroom, and I returned to his sitting area feeling slightly more in control of my emotions. I was still hurt, so deeply, but anger started to take over my pain.

  I looked down at the ring King gave me—the one I thought meant that he was confident that he wanted me and only me for a long time, if not forever. The ring he told me would only leave my finger to be replaced with an engagement ring, then a wedding ring.

  I thought about the day on the glacier, staring at the enormous glittering token of his affection, and how I felt so close to him…and so happy. I believed him—and everything he ever said to me. I would have never thought he’d let me be a part of all of this bullshit.

  My thoughts were interrupted by Miko’s phone vibrating on the table.

  “If you need to get that, go ahead,” I said.

  Since he grabbed my hand on the dance floor, he’d been getting calls, but didn’t look at his phone for more than a second. His focus was on me.

  “No,” Miko chuckled. “It’s just King, for the hundredth time tonight. I think he’s now threatened me with everything from a regular beating to complete dismemberment. He’s just a little pissed at me right now,” Miko joked.

  “Oh my gosh. I’m so sorry I got you mixed up in all of this. It’s obvious I don’t have much sway with King anymore, but I’ll do my best to not let him take this out on you.”

  “I’m not worried about it, really. I mean, don’t get me wrong—if he wanted to he could kick my ass. But I’ve no doubt he’ll be reasonable once he calms down. He’s just pissed that he can’t get to you and he’s holding me responsible.”

  “What a mess this has all become. We all came here thinking we’d have a week to party and have a good time, and now that’s ruined. Well, at least for me and you.”

  “Don’t worry about me; I’m not big on partying anyway, remember? You’re giving me an excuse to get out of all that.”

  I smiled, even though my eyes were filling with tears after hearing that King’s calling—and, frankly, out of appreciation for Miko. He’s done so much for me these last few days, and all I’ve done is put him in danger.

  Watching him refill my glass, it was so easy to remember how nice and calm things were when I dated Miko. He truly is a good guy, and dating him—as bored as I may have felt at times—was stress-free.

  I had no insecurities with him—there was never a thought about me being too young or too immature. Miko wasn’t responsible for a multi-national company that employed thousands of people, he didn’t have his own house to take c
are of, and he was just as carefree as me.

  It’s strange to compare him with King; they’re only a year apart in age, but a decade apart in maturity.

  The next thing I knew, Miko was shaking my shoulder, telling me to move to the bed—I had fallen to sleep on the sofa. I must’ve been sleeping there for a while; by the time I woke up, he’d gotten an extra toothbrush from the concierge. So I made use of that before finally passing out in Miko’s bed.

  Chapter 11

  I was awake before my eyes could open—all of the drinks I had last night were encouraging me to go back to sleep, but my mind was already racing at a mile a minute. When my eyes finally blinked open, the first thing I noticed was the bottle of Evian and a glass next to the bed. I was lying on my side staring at the curtains covering the window in front of me.

  I wasn’t in my room; King wasn’t next to me. The painful memories from last night started coming back to me. I remembered that I’m in Miko’s room, and rolled onto my back to confirm that the other side of the bed was not slept in. There was a rumpled blanket and pillow on the sofa.

  Thank God he didn’t sleep next to me. The last thing I need to add to my misery is getting too close to an ex-boyfriend. Obviously I wasn’t overly concerned that Miko would use this to his advantage; if I was, I wouldn’t have stayed here. Even still, confirming that he was a gentleman gave me instant relief.

  I stared at the ceiling as I remembered last night. That fight with Layla, the pictures of King holding her, crying into my cheeseburger…it all came back to me and tears sprang to my eyes again. I felt lost, and embarrassed, and I knew that I had to figure out a plan to get out of this city as soon as I can.

  I can’t stay in Vegas—I need to go home. But all of my things are in King’s room, and I have no idea where my purse is—I left that behind at the club. I’d didn’t think too much about it; I left it at our table, so I’m sure Tori saw it.

  First things first: I need to wake up. I reached for the water and noticed that the glass had two Alka Seltzer disks in it. I smiled—Miko remembered that I drink an Alka Seltzer every morning after a night of drinking.

  I poured water into the glass and let the disks dissolve, sitting up in bed and making sure I was covered up with the blanket. I slept naked last night, as I always do; luckily, I remember stripping down before getting into bed while Miko was in the restroom. I wasn’t terribly worried anyway; it’s nothing he hasn’t seen before.

  I picked up the remote for the curtains and opened them while I waited for the Alka Seltzer disks to dissolve. The sunlight streamed into the room; another day of crystal blue skies and dry as hay air was ahead of us. I looked around the room, but didn’t see Miko; then I heard the water running in the bathroom. He was taking a shower. That gave me more time to think.

  What am I going to do now? Tori has my purse—I hope—and I guess I could just leave my things in King’s room. But I’ll be pissed as hell if he doesn’t bring my stuff back with him.

  Goddamn King. How could I have been so naïve? My stomach tightened as the worries that I have always had, finally started to make sense. King and his entire life are out of my league.

  I took another gulp of water from the bottle then picked up the glass containing my hangover cure and started sipping. As my head cleared from the haze of sleep, the fight with Layla and the pictures I saw started swirling around my head again.

  It’s very possible that he cheated on me. Publicly. And he, seemingly, did it over and over while lying to me since we arrived in Vegas. How stupid he must think I am. I wondered why he even bothered lying—is he planning on trying to make up with me?

  Maybe he wants to dump me on fight night—to add to the drama. Or, if he didn’t cheat, he must think so little of me that all of the humiliation I’ve been exposed to means nothing to him. As much as all of that makes sense, if you looked at my situation on paper, this just doesn’t sound like King. I know him…at least I thought I did.

  I was so confused, and completely caught off guard with all of this. Over the past five months I’ve been getting to know King, and I thought we were close. The King I know would never allow this to happen. The only thing I’m really sure of is that I don’t want this shit in my life.

  “Good morning,” Miko said, interrupting my thoughts.

  “Hey.”

  “I took the liberty of ordering room service; breakfast should be here any minute.”

  “Thanks, Miko. And thanks for the water and Alka Seltzer; that’s very Fifty Shades of you,” I joked.

  He smirked. “Ah, that movie taught me so much,” he joked. “Don’t mention it.”

  “So, any more calls from King?” my morbid curiosity asked before I could stop the words from leaving my mouth.

  Miko smirked at me. He had a towel wrapped around his waste and was using another to dry his hair. He looked really good—so good that I turned my eyes from him to stop myself from staring.

  “Calls, texts, messages on the hotel room phone. And they didn’t stop. I don’t think he slept last night. I had to unplug the hotel phone and turn my cell off to get some sleep myself.”

  Hearing King hasn’t stopped trying to reach me made me feel really good, and I hated that. I hated that even now, even after all my crying and humiliation caused by him, I still want to crawl into his lap.

  “I’m sorry for all of this,” I said. “I’ll get out of your hair as soon as I decide what I’m going to do next.”

  “Don’t bother; there’s no rush. Have some coffee, some breakfast…and we’ll figure it out together.”

  I smiled meekly. He’s so nice. What guy would take care of his ex-girlfriend when the guy she cheated on him with is treating her like crap? A saint, that’s who.

  The doorbell rang and a panicked feeling overwhelmed me. I’m not ready to see him yet.

  “Don’t worry, no one knows my room number. Not even Dylan. It’s just room service,” Miko said as he went to open the door. He returned with just an envelope in his hand.

  “OK, so, it wasn’t breakfast; the concierge delivered a note for you. They were discreet enough to not tell King my room number, which I’m sure he tried his hardest to find out, so he got them to deliver this,” he said, handing me the envelope.

  I held it in my hands, but didn’t have the will to open it. Miko walked into the bathroom and came out with a bathrobe in his hand. He put the robe on the bed, telling me he’d give me privacy to change. I guess he noticed my clothes on the floor and the blanket wrapped around me. I waited for the click of the bathroom door before getting out of bed to put the robe on and then I sat back down on the bed.

  No matter what this envelope contained, I had a feeling that this wasn’t going to be a good moment for me. Either he’s going to tell me he doesn’t want to be with me anymore—which will break my heart—or he’ll pretend nothing is wrong—which will infuriate me. Maybe it’s a contract from his lawyer, asking me to play along with King and Giorgio’s stupid little game for one more day. All I know is that I’m in no rush to find out.

  I continued to sip on the Alka Seltzer while Miko was in the bathroom getting ready, eventually opening the door a crack. I guess that was a hint that he was giving me time to open the envelope, but I just didn’t have it in me to face King’s words. I’m pissed that he put me in this position, but I’m even more terrified of us being over. I’m not prepared for the finality of it.

  I think I need to gain some strength before I find out what’s inside this envelope. I put the envelope on the bed next to me and stood up shakily, and I walked to the bathroom—Miko caught sight of me behind him in the large mirror.

  “Are you OK?” he asked, clearly expecting me to be upset from the note.

  “I haven’t opened it yet. May I interrupt your primping to do a bit of my own?” I could tell he was done anyway, but he was dragging his feet to give me time.

  He smiled and walked out, joking with me to not to take too long because he wasn’t done with this beauty
ritual.

  By the time I was presentable, the room service had arrived and I actually heard my stomach growl at the scent of potatoes and bacon; I guess the Alka Seltzer worked its magic. I sat down next to Miko and he put an empty plate in front of me.

  “I didn’t know what you’d be in the mood for, so I got a bit of a variety,” he said.

  And he wasn’t kidding. The table had food spread all over it, from pancakes to fruit to eggs. I spooned some hash browns and fresh strawberries onto my plate, picked a fresh croissant out of the breadbasket, and practically salivated when my eyes rested on the Bloody Mary mix in a carafe.

  I thanked Miko profusely—he remembers me well—as I grabbed a glass and started making myself a spicy Bloody Mary. The hair-of-the-dog always helps a hangover.

  Miko’s phone rang and he sighed before checking the screen; but then he told me it was Tori, probably. Her number was on the screen, whether it was King using her phone was unknown.

  “Good morning, Tori,” he answered, then paused as she responded. “Are you alone? OK, yes, she’s here.” Pause. “I know, but she’s not ready to talk to him yet.” Pause. He looked at me and pointed to the phone; I nodded yes, meaning I would talk to her. “OK, here she is. But don’t give her any shit—she doesn’t need that right now,” he said before handing me the phone.

  “Hey. Sorry I ran out last night,” I said.

  “Girl! Don’t apologize to me, I heard what happened—I can’t imagine what that was like. But we have to talk. Can I come see you?”

  “Yeah, sure. We’re in room 6030—please don’t tell Dylan. I don’t want Miko’s room number getting back to him.”

  “Don’t worry—I won’t tell a soul.”

  “OK. See you soon.”

  I handed the phone back to Miko and took another gulp of the Bloody Mary.

  “Another day of drama,” I sighed.

  “What happened now?” He asked.

  “Oh, nothing yet. But Tori’s coming to talk to me; I’m sure King put a few lies in her head to encourage her to talk me off the ledge.”