by Amber Lacie
My feet hit the floor and I walked towards the bathroom, all the while my cock was leading the way like a compass. Shit never pointed north; it only pointed to the angel I left lying in a hotel room back in Indiana. I hated the fact that she was still under my skin. I also hated the fact that I loved that she was still under my skin. It was a love-hate-relationship with a touch of obsession tossed in, shaken, not stirred, until my head was all fucked up. She was a definite mind fuck. The problem was that I had let her into mine and now the thought of her was my drug.
Just then, the brunette moaned, bringing my attention back to her. I turned, watching her slide her hand between her legs, fingering her wet pussy. I’m too sober for this shit. “Show’s over, Marla. Get dressed and get the fuck out.”
“It’s Marissa,” she corrected.
“I don’t give a fuck what your name is––I don’t have a reason to remember it. I’m done with you. Now, get out.”
I didn’t bother to wait for a response. Instead, I hit the shower and kicked the hot water all the way up. Stroking myself, I tried to get release, but it was pointless. Nothing could fix this. My only option was to stay under the blistering water and hope I could burn her memory away. How fucked up am I? After seven years, I still couldn’t wash away her memory? It was one fucking night and my mind still wouldn’t let me forget. The hot water had finally run out and I was wiping the steam from the bathroom mirror when my phone began ringing in the other room.
I had just finished up a job a few days ago. Some lady had hired me to see if her husband was cheating on her. He was, but that wasn’t the fucked-up part. The fucked up part is that he had hired me at the same time to keep an eye on her. Turns out, they had both fucked around on one another and getting caught got them off. Once I figured out their game, I took my payment and walked away. Three thousand dollars wasn’t a bad week, but the crazy had escalated above my pay grade.
It’s not like I needed the money…I had sold the rest of my business to Theron years ago. He wasn’t thrilled about it, so we settled on me keeping a small portion. It’s crazy how much money a simple three percent of a thriving company can bring in. The sound of the phone continuing to ring in the other room suddenly brought me back to reality.
Looking in the mirror, my reflection stared back at me. Salt and pepper didn’t just speckle my scalp, that shit was taking over my face too. Adjusting the towel around my waist I stepped out into the room, inspecting it to make sure the girl was gone. It was a relief to know she didn’t linger. Over the years, a few girls tried to stick around, but I never let things go farther than one night. I didn’t want, or need, that kind of stress. It was better for me to cut strings and walk away. They didn’t always like it, but I didn’t care.
My phone chirped one final time, letting me know I had a voicemail. The number wasn’t one I recognized, so I shook the water from my hair and crashed back upon the bed. One day I’ll have my own place again, with a mattress that will sing me to sleep. I couldn’t help but laugh at my own thoughts. They were all fucked up after a long night of drinking. Peering around the room I found nothing but empty bottles of Jack and some old pizza lying on the small wooden table by the window. Sleep or eat, I silently questioned. Not to be forgotten, my stomach suddenly rumbled, winning the toss up I quickly got dressed.
Standing in front of the scratched up full-length mirror hanging on the only closet in the dark room, I took in my appearance. Jeans, t-shirt, and boots; it was my standard dress code. Truth is, I had no one to impress and I had always felt more comfortable not giving a shit. I was so tired of cheap motels, but that was all I could find in this small ass town, if you can even call it a town. It was an hour in any direction before I could hit anything remotely worthy of being called a town.
The bar on the corner was convenient, but not the greatest place for breakfast. That’s the reason I kept ending up with different girls and empty bottles of Jack every night. The cycle needed to break.
Throwing my things together, it took me less than twenty minutes to get everything packed into the back of my Jeep. Fuck this hole in the wall. Fuck this town. I was done with it all.
After making sure my room was covered I headed out onto the highway. With no new job lined up, I didn’t have a set destination––I was just driving. I was already headed south when my phone suddenly began to buzz in the cup holder next to me. Unfortunately, I had been on the road far too long to know the dangers of people not paying attention, so texting and driving was a huge pet peeve of mine. And I wasn’t about to make myself, or anyone else, for that matter, a statistic.
By the time I pulled into the parking lot of the Waffle House, the noise coming from my stomach was ungodly. I was starving, and chicken sounded amazing. Keys? Check. Wallet? Check. Phone? Check.
After making sure I had everything I needed, I headed inside to find a booth by the window, allowing my long frame to stretch out. It wasn’t long before the waitress came over and took my order. She seemed sweet, almost too sweet, with the way she smacked her gum, but I didn’t care. As long as she brought me my chicken and coffee, I was going to consider it a win in my book.
I was only a few bites into my meal before my phone rang again. Up until that moment, I had completely forgotten about the missed call while I was driving. My fingers slid across the screen in a diamond pattern and once unlocked, two missed calls popped up in my notifications. The first one was the same number that had called me earlier, most likely a job, but the second one I recognized. I wasn’t in a rush, so I decided to finish my meal before calling Theron back. Dialing his number, it rang twice before he picked up. That was quick.
“Evan.” My name had always been more of a statement on his tongue. He was always such the business man.
“I know my name. What’s up?”
He sighed across the phone, a familiar sound. It was the sigh that told me he wasn’t calling because he wanted to, but rather that he was being forced to do whatever his wife had put him up to. If I’m being honest, the calls never bothered me. They’re my family, and I love them, but Theron always seemed as though he was afraid of bothering me. I wish he would knock that shit off. It’s not like I blame him––things just went south and I ran, but what else is he supposed to think? “Robert is getting married,” Theron stated flatly.
“Okay––what does this mean for me?”
“Eve wants you here.” And there it is, the real reason he chased me down.
“You know how this works––I come home for Christmas and the kids’ birthdays. And just so you know, it’s not for you…it’s for them. For some reason I like them.” That’s a lie. I miss him and Eve, but I like to give him a hard time about it.
A loud laugh echoed in my ear as I pulled the phone away. “Don’t let Eve hear you say that. She’s still upset about the gift you gave the boys at Christmas.”
“It’s just a pair of dirt bikes,” I stated innocently.
“Yeah, and they’re just six and four. Neither of them can reach the handles.”
“They will eventually.” Silence, followed by a series of deep exhales, filtered through the speaker on my phone. There’s more to this. “Robert is tying the knot––so who’s the girl?” In all the years I had known Eve, her brother, Robert, was never able to hold onto a girl more than a few months at time. It was almost impossible to picture him getting married.
“Her name is Brix. She seems––nice.”
“That’s quite a bit of hesitation. You sure this wedding is going to happen?”
“That’s what I’m being told.” After a momentary pause, Theron began speaking again. “Listen, Evan, I know you have a hard time coming back here. I get it. I know how bad it must hurt, but I’m asking you as a friend, as a brother––come home and this time, stay for a bit. My life could be on the line.”
He thought he knew, but he didn’t know the truth to it all. I waited an entire year before going back the first time. Everything in me told me that Kayla would have tol
d Eve, so I was expecting hell, but it never came. At first, I thought maybe Eve was just pretending to ignore it all, but over the years I realized she didn’t know about my night with the blonde temptress. If Kayla had told anyone, it wasn’t them. “Your life? That’s a stretch, man.”
“Have you met my wife?”
I laughed. I knew Eve and I also knew she wouldn’t let him live this down. He could buy her all the books in the world and she still wouldn’t forgive him if I didn’t show. “You got a point. When is this mess taking place?”
“In just over two weeks.”
“Fuck. That’s not much of a warning.”
“I know. Eve and Kayla think it’s because the bride is going to begin showing.”
That’s hilarious. “Shotgun wedding, huh?”
“Robert swears it’s not, though no one believes him. There’s also one more thing I need from you,” he quickly added.
“I knew there was a catch.”
“Not so much a catch, but more of a favor. It looks like Brix’s side of the bridal party is quite extensive, and Robert has never had any real friends. He’s got a friend from college who is standing as his best man and then there’s me. I was hoping you’d fill a spot.”
“You were hoping?” Bullshit, I thought silently, spinning the spoon in my coffee aimlessly. I knew that if I were there any longer than a few days, I would without a doubt run into Kayla, and as much as I’d like to say it was a one-night stand, I honestly didn’t know if I could walk away again. There was something about her that had buried itself into my skin, and it was the only reason I could come up with as to why I still dreamt of her after all these years.
“We were all hoping,” Theron admitted. “Eve promised to make you peach cobbler if you do this for us.”
Just thinking about the cobbler made my mouth water. I am going to be in so much trouble. “Yeah, alright. I’m just north of Nashville today. I can be there tonight. Leave me a key under the light at the guesthouse if you guys aren’t home.”
“We should be, but if we aren’t it will be there. Thanks, man.”
I cannot believe I agreed to this. “You owe me.”
“I know.”
Sliding my finger across the screen, I disconnected and tossed the phone onto the table. Fuck. I can’t believe this is happening. I have been able to avoid her all these years, but with this wedding, I know there was no chance of that. I am headed straight towards her. My dick jumped at the thought, while at the same time my heart flipped. Fuck them. It’s like they have forgotten what it’s like to have your soul ripped apart. I still remember and you can’t erase scars.
Nine hours later the headlights from my Jeep cast shadows from the trees onto the pavement in front of me. The lights in the main house were on, letting me know they were home––but I didn’t knock. All I wanted was a stiff drink and a bed to crash in.
The key was under the light, just like I had asked, so I let myself in and tossed my stuff into the first room I came to. It would have been a good time to take in my surroundings, but I ignored everything and headed straight for the liquor cabinet. It wasn’t until after downing my first glass of Scotch, while leaning against the counter, that I heard the shower running in the bathroom. What followed next still gets to me.
The door was cracked just a bit, and the sexiest voice I’d ever heard was belting out notes most people would never attempt to hit. Using the tip of my boot, I nudged it open just a bit more. The steam billowed out, allowing me to see her shadow behind the glass. Fuck. Thank God everything is steamed up and she can’t see my face. There I stood, in the doorway, grinning like a fourteen-year-old boy in a girl’s locker room. I watched, entranced, as her hands slid down her stomach before allowing my gaze to follow the curve of her ass. The next thing I knew the glass door was opening and a wet mess of blonde curls was staring me down.
“What the fuck!” she shouted. She was pissed, but I had the upper hand. After all, she was the one standing bare-assed, trying to cover herself up with her hands, while I stood there holding a towel in my hands.
I couldn’t help but chuckle. “Need this?” I asked mischievously.
“Fuck. You. Why the hell are you here? You know what…don’t answer that.” Pissed or not, she was still sexy as hell. It took everything within me to not reach for her when she snatched the towel from my hands, wrapping it around herself, and storming out of the bathroom, hip-checking me into the doorframe.
She is beautiful. I am the asshole.
It’s not exactly how I wanted us to meet again, but it happened. As I followed her into the room it all began to make sense. If I had taken a second to look around I would have realized there was someone else staying here. Her clothes were already scattered around the room, along with some metal case with makeup sticking up out of it.
For the first time in a long time, I didn’t want to be an asshole. Problem was––she was already pissed at me, and I needed to fix it. I knew it was going to be hard coming back here, knowing we were bound to see one another, but I pictured it differently. In my head she was already mine, but in reality––she was pissed.
Standing in the doorway, I watched her hastily get dressed. She was in nothing but a pair of gym shorts and an old t-shirt, but it didn’t matter––she was still the sexiest thing to ever walk on this Earth. Quickly pulling her curls up into a mess on top of her head, she checked herself over in the mirror, doing her best to ignore my presence. For a split second I could’ve sworn she wiped a tear from her eyes. Fuck––I made her cry.
Catching me watching her in the mirror, she enthusiastically flipped me off. Maybe I was wrong, I thought to myself. What the fuck am I doing?
“Kayla—” I began.
“Don’t.”
“Just hear me out––I didn’t know you’d be here. I mean…I knew you’d probably be around, but no one told me you were staying here. I was lost in my head when I came in, so I didn’t look around. I was just making a drink when I heard the shower––” I tried to explain. The look on her face was killing me. It was clear that I had hurt her. “Tell me what to do,” I begged.
Silence.
“Can we start over?” I finally asked.
Tracing the outline of her plump lips, she stared back at herself in the mirror. “I can’t do this,” she whispered, wiping her eyes once again. This time, I knew it was because of me.
Crossing her imaginary boundary I stepped into the room and pulled her into my arms. “Baby, don’t cry.”
Shoving out of my arms, she shouted, “No––you don’t get to call me that. Ever. You walked out on me. The night you left me alone in a hotel room, by myself, is the night you lost your chance at calling me baby.” Stomping down the hallway, she made her way toward the front door.
“Kayla, don’t go.”
“Fuck off, Evan. You’re the one that left.”
Shit, she’s right. It’s going to be so much harder being here than I thought. I’m fucked.
Kayla
W ho the fuck does he think he is? I need a drink…better yet, a whole damn bottle––to myself. That bastard just showed up and, all of a sudden, he thinks he can call me baby. Oh hell no. That shit is not going to happen. I have gone through too many years of therapy fixing the mess those two assholes left me in. Paul ruined me, but Evan––Evan iced the cake.
I had made myself at home in Eve’s kitchen while I waited on her. After my run in with the asshole I haven’t seen in years, I needed to relax. I was three glasses in on the bottle of wine I had found before Eve joined me.
“That was a new bottle,” Eve said, stepping into the kitchen.
Ignoring her, I took another sip.
“And it looks like it’s almost gone. Want to talk about it?” she continued.
“About?”
“Fine, we’ll just pretend everything is fine––like always. Keeping everything in is going to kill you.”
“That’s funny, all of this coming from the woman who almost died
from her own secrets,” I snapped.
“That was a low blow, Kayla.”
Sighing, I took another sip before speaking. “You wouldn’t understand.”
“You’re right, and I’m not going to until you tell me what’s going on.”
Exhausted, I threw my hands into the air. “I give up. If you want to know, you should sit down.”
“Just tell me—”
“Eve, sit.” Obeying, she sat down in the chair beside me while I poured myself another glass of wine and made her a cup of tea. I sat and patiently waited for her to take a few sips before diving into the hellish drama that was now my life.
Taking a deep breath, I began. “Do you remember how I told you I broke up with Paul a few nights after your wedding?”
“Yes. Why are we talking about him? I thought we hated him.”
“We do, but I wasn’t honest with you. I didn’t leave him––he left me.”
“You said you caught him cheating,” Eve pressed.
“I did, but it wasn’t after the wedding…it was during the reception.”
Covering her mouth, Eve gasped. “What?” she asked in horror as she reached for her tea. She’s a bit dramatic, but that’s close to how I would have reacted if she had told me the same thing.
“I had a feeling that he had been cheating for a while, and he got pretty drunk at the reception. When he disappeared for a while, I decided to go look for him. When I found him, he was standing outside, so I walked up behind him. I thought it would be fun to surprise him. As I got closer, I could see he was on his phone, so I peered over his shoulder. Sometimes he liked to research fun things for us to do––um, later. Unfortunately for me, it wasn’t that. It was some girl named, Candace, and when I called him out on it he didn’t even attempt to deny it. Instead, he bragged about it. However, the icing on the cake was when he had the whore pick him up.”
“Honey, I’m so sorry. Why didn’t you tell me?”
Holding up my hands to stop her, I continued. “Hold on––there’s more.”