by Eva Sloan
I bit my lower lip just thinking about how it felt to have those two beautiful orbs in my hands. Shaking my head I backed up a few more steps, enough that I couldn’t see him. Out of sight, out of mind ... right?
I counted to a hundred and then peeked out around the corner. Gus was gone, thank god. I walked up to the cashier and was hit hard by his lingering scent. Even in a convenience store, with all the scents and ripe odors, his scent haunted me as I paid for my order, and my movie.
It seemed like an eternity before my fried chicken was finished. I wound up biting off my nails, something I hadn’t done since high school. I also felt another craving hit me again. Cigarettes. I hadn’t had one since college. And I’d only smoked them for my last two terms, and yet there I was waiting for my super unhealthy fried meal, and I couldn’t stop ogling the rows and rows of cellophane wrapped tobacco products.
I trudged back up to the front and bought a pack of Camel lights, my old favorite. I was tempted to light up there and then, but I was sure I’d be arrested and locked up with all the other riffraff: the hookers, and the vagrants, and of course all those dirty old men that used to prowl Time’s Square.
*****
By the time I finally made it home I had had enough of the world at large. I locked my door. I turned off my cell phone and unplugged my home phone. I even found some earplugs and shoved them in my ears ... just in case someone appeared at my door.
I needed some peace and quiet, even if I had to lock myself away to get it.
*****
An hour later I woke up to find myself on the couch. The main menu of the Angelina/Brad movie played and flickered on my TV screen. Christ, I thought as I stretched and felt the tightness in my neck and lower back. The movie hadn’t been what I’d bargained for. Sure, as Mr. and Mrs. Smith, the two Hollywood starlets had tried to kill each other with heartfelt glee, but soon enough I found their resurrected passion, and their fighting, to be more than mere foreplay.
The movie was a Thriller/Romance hybrid, which not only got me thinking about my own romantic problems, but then made me think about love.
Bastards!
I stumbled back to my bedroom and slithered under the covers.
*****
When I awoke the next morning someone was beating on my door. I rolled over, the feel of my sheets and soft mattress intoxicating. But the knocking at the door persisted, growing with intensity and my annoyance. I crawled out of bed and shuffled toward the noise. But then I thought again. It could be anyone--it might even be Gus! So I trudged back and pulled my bathrobe on, tying it around my waist -- I even stopped long enough to brush my hair out. Half way through this I had to ask myself about brushing my hair. I knew the robe was to keep a possible Gus from getting any ideas, but brushing my tangled hair out was possibly sending that message anyways.
When I pulled the door open I sighed with relief -- It was Dean.
But then I got a real good look at him. His hair was disheveled and his eyes were blood shot, not to mention his clothes were wrinkled. He looked a complete mess.
He grabbed hold of me, crushing me against his chest. “Thank god,” He said, and then he held me out away from him at arm’s length. “Why the hell haven’t you been answering your phone?”
Couldn’t take the chance Gus would try making a move on me last night ... or that I’d let him. “Just needed some alone time.” I tried to give him my best smile, but his eyes were impenetrable.
Finally his eyes started to soften. “I was just worried.”
“It’s okay. You’re allowed.” I touched his face, right where his cheek met with his chin. “You look terrible.”
He pulled me to him again and held me tight. This made me close my eyes even tighter. Why wasn’t this enough?
He started kissing me before the door was even closed, and before we knew it we were on the couch, me in just my panties, Dean’s shirt unbuttoned, as well as his pants. He snapped on a condom and then pulled my panties down off my hips, over my legs and off over my feet.
When he entered me I felt like I was being torn apart. I felt guilt slithering through my veins. I closed my eyes to that and wrapped myself about his body all the more. Dean was wondrously hard, so hard he seemed like someone else. And for a horrifying yet irresistible moment I let my brain think it was someone else ... Gus to be specific.
My spine arched as I imagined that it was him cross-stitching himself into my body.
I felt myself physically jerk when I suddenly could smell him. My eyes snapped open and my sex tightened about Dean’s. I panted with relief that it was still Dean I was with, but as he moaned and buried his face in my neck, churning his granite member into me, I felt so guilty.
I was certain Dean was lost in me. He was probably incapable of thinking about anyone else.
*****
Dean dressed clumsily after sex. I’d tried to fake an orgasm, just so he’d stop, or at least finish quicker. But instead he just kept going at it, and soon I didn’t have to fake it, I was orgasming all over the place. Of course one moment I was with Dean, the next with Gus.
Dean still looked like hell, but he looked happy again as he left. And without his polished exterior, the fact that he was in love with me was all the more apparent. He had even moaned it again when he came.
When I finally had my apartment to myself I trudged back to the bedroom and fell over on my bed. The sex had been fantastic. What it was doing to my mind I didn’t like. My eyes were just starting to get heavy when my alarm clock went off, making me jump just as a dream about pancakes and bacon dropped into my head.
I groaned and pull myself up from the nice soft mattress. I was going to have to hurry and stop for breakfast on the way. This kind of craving would not be satisfied in the hospital cafeteria, or by a hot dog.
*****
I hadn’t even considered calling off. Which suddenly hit me when I walked through the door to the physical therapy department and found Gus waiting on me. He looked great, and the whole damn place was filled with his scent.
“You’re hardly even limping anymore,” I said as I led him back to a table to get started.
“What can I say, doc, you’re a miracle worker.”
I watched him perform the usual bends and standing poses, trying to keep my mind on line and symmetry, and not on how nicely the muscles of his buttocks made the musculature of his shoulders and chest look all the more appetizing.
Stop it! I told myself.
Gus grinned. He somehow knew what I was thinking. The bastard.
I was about to have him stretch out his hip tractors when he asked, “So how is the good doctor today.”
How did he know? No, he didn’t know about what a mess he’d look like, or what a state he was in over me. But I wouldn’t be surprised if he already knew I wasn’t feeling the same desperation for Dean.
“He’s fine,” I lied. But then I slipped in some truth to not sound so unsure. “He looked perfectly fine when he left my apartment this morning.
“That’s funny,” Gus sat up on the table and peered deep into my eyes. “When he ran into me this morning he looked like crap. Didn’t even notice he’d run into me, or that he knew me. Was heading to your place.”
“You waiting outside my apartment building or something?”
“Don’t have to. The shop’s just down the block from you.”
Nosey bastard. “I didn’t realize you’d been released to go back to work.”
“I’m not. I just went in to help Gina with the paperwork.”
“Oh,” I thought for only a moment of my last conversation with his sister, and prayed that she’d kept her word and her lips shut. “So how’s she doing?”
“She’s doing gangbusters, and let’s not change the subject. So what’s up with the good doctor? Why’d he look so crazed going to your apartment?”
I was still trying to find a way out of the conversation when Gus leaned into me until our lips were mere inches apart. “If it was me,” h
e said. “I’d be looking thrilled to be going to your apartment.”
I gulped, and then I stepped back from Gus. This was driving me crazy. He was driving me crazy. I’d been skirting the details of what Dean and I had been doing only hours before, and for what? If I wanted to repel Gus then telling him about Dean this morning would be the best repellant.
“Yeah, he was worried about me. I turned off my phones and went to bed early.”
“Really?”
I took a deep breath and looked Gus straight in the eye. “But after we made love he looked like his old self again.”
There was a hurt look on Gus’ handsome face, but only for a moment. He closed his eyes and then slowly opened them, and the hurt was gone, and in its place was the heat of a forest fire. Made me shudder inside, and made my flesh catch on fire again.
“I’m sure the good doctor is fine company in bed,” Gus purred, this small, warm smile spreading across his face. “But it won’t be nothing like when I’m in your bed.”
Oh Christ! I couldn’t believe he’d actually said it. Him saying it made it so much more a possibility than just some wild fantasy. I mean, fantasies, at least mine, never come true.
Suddenly I despised the look on his face, like he knew me, like he felt he knew me better than I knew myself. Smug, arrogant bastard!
“Dean’s amazing in bed.” I said, my temper making my words indictments. Who did he think he was? “Actually, he’s the best I’ve ever had.” Which was true. Dean was a lover par-excellence. “And there’s something to be said for youth.”
Okay, that was a low blow, and as Gus winced at the sharp jab I really started to convince myself. How could Gus be better than Dean? There was no way. Not really. Then I remembered the whole reason for Gus to be in therapy in the first place.
“Plus he doesn’t have any physical limitations.” I smiled, trying to look as confident as I was sounding.
Gus stood up and closed the gap between us. “You said yourself that I was close to a full recovery. In a few weeks it’ll be as if I never injured myself. You want to test your theory?”
I stepped back further. “What?”
“You want to test this theory of yours that I could never compare with the good doctor?”
I felt my lower lip quiver, and I was suddenly holding my breath. But then what I saw walking up behind Gus made my heart turn to ice.
Dean.
Dean as he usually looked: clothes pressed, hair neat, shaved and groomed to perfection -- even his eyes weren’t blood shot anymore. And his smile, so warm and happy to see me, I felt like the shittiest girlfriend on the face of the earth. How couldn’t this man be enough for me?
“Dean,” I said as I sidestepped Gus and threw my arms around Dean. He smelled wonderful again, and just having him pressed against me, if only in a hug, made me feel all the more solid, and centered, and not crazy for a man who’d seduce another man’s girlfriend.
Of course he hadn’t actually seduced me yet. I clinched my eyes shut and breathed Dean’s scent in.
I beamed up into his face, “So, twice in one morning -- what’s the occasion?”
Deans’ face turn serious, and he pulled away from our embrace. Did he suddenly smell my lust and desire for Gus? Was it rolling off my skin like some putrid cologne?
Then Dean knelt down on one knee. I swear I thought maybe he had dropped something. The last thing I was thinking was that he had a ring. But he did, holding a Cartier box out in front of me. The diamond was perfect, the setting exquisite, and the man suddenly asking, “Lucy Jamison, will you marry me?” Looked like the man of my dreams.
I heard a choking sound coming from Gus. I stole a look at him and he was staring at me with this look on his face, like What the hell? The sensation was excruciating. In front of me was a man in love, a human paradise on earth, on the other side of me was an arrogant asshole that for some reason I wanted more than life itself.
I noticed that I was running for the door about the time I pushed through it, galloping as fast as I could for the stairs.
“Lucy, wait!” It was Dean, and he had hold of my arm pulling me around to him. Wrapping his big strong arms around me.
“I-I ...” I couldn’t think to say anything. I just wanted to get away from both of them, from everything. I needed to be boarded up in my apartment.
“You’re freaked out, I get it. It’s my fault ...“
How could it be his fault? I was the man-hungry tramp.
“I should’ve done this all in private, or in a restaurant.”
I tried to push him away, but my arms felt so weak in his embrace. I wanted to run away but my body wanted to stay. I looked past Dean and saw a small crowd of people standing in the door to physical therapy -- Gus stood out in the crowd, watching us with this desperate look on his face.
I was shaking my head, about to tell Dean I couldn’t marry him -- it didn’t matter where he asked me -- but then I saw that smug arrogant look on Gus’ face again. The look said, I knew you couldn’t. You’re mine.
That look pissed me off instantly, and I made a split second decision -- not always the best way to go.
“Yes,” I said, clutching Dean to me. “Yes, I’ll marry you.”
I felt his arms pick me up and he spin around with me in his arms. “She said yes!” Was all he said.
I heard some applause and then he finally set me down long enough to kiss me. And for the first time his kiss did nothing for me, nothing at all. It was just a kiss. I was so confused I turned to look for Gus, but he was gone. What was wrong with me? Now I was feeling hurt that Gus was gone, and confused that Dean’s kiss made me feel nothing.
What the hell is wrong with me?
*****
Chapter 22
The guys in physical therapy threw a brief, impromptu celebration -- which consisted of fruit punch Gatorade and left over birthday cake from the day before. Nicole’s birthday cake.
She came over to me as the guys ribbed Dean about who would be wearing the pants in our soon-to-be family. She looked gorgeous as always, and her smile was so warm it almost made me feel better.
“So you ended up with a doctor...” She nudged me in the ribs. “At least you got the best of the bunch. He’s great...for a doctor.”
“Oh yeah, I forgot about your view on them as a species.” I latched onto the subject with determination -- anything to get my mind off my real problems. “And how are things in accountant land?”
She got this dreamy look in her eyes. A few weeks ago I would’ve wanted to slap her for getting all moon-eyed in front of me, but things change and all I could feel new was jealous.
“We’re great. He’s great. Everything’s --”
“Great ...”
“Yep. And now I get to take him to a wedding. I can’t wait to see how he’ll look in a tux.”
“Nicole! We just got engaged. You might want to put off renting his tuxedo just yet.”
She turned and looked at me with such genuine surprise. “Oh, I didn’t know. I’m sorry.”
I gulped. Did she know? How did she know? Is she freaking psychic? “What do you mean?”
She stepped closer and let her sweet as maple syrup voice drop to a whisper. “I didn’t realize you were so freaked out.”
“I’m not freaked out!” But my voice just spiked an octave to shrill tones only dogs could hear, I wasn’t making a convincing argument.
“Sure,” Nicole said placatingly. “You’re the happiest engaged woman I’ve ever come across.”
I turned away. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“It’s just in my experience,” She looked at me with such genuine pity. “When a woman gets engaged she’s not only jubilantly excited, she’s already thinking about wedding plans. You know, where, when, how many guests, how many bride’s maids, what size she wants to be by then.”
“I’m happy!” I faked a smile and tried to swallow the tears that threatened to erupt any moment. “I’m freaking ec
static!”
“Okay, honey, but then why do you look so miserable?”
Nicole walked away to let me wallow in that last word ... “miserable.”
Yep, I thought to myself. That’s the right word for it.
*****
When dean made to leave he kissed me again. Long and deep and warm ... and yet I still didn’t feel a thing. Well, I felt guilty, and miserable, and I downright loathed myself. I was one of those women I despised most, one who couldn’t even admit the truth to herself.
I watched him leave and then I signed out myself. I told my boss I was just overly emotional, which was the truth. He told me it was fine and to come back tomorrow -- the football player would be in, and he needed to see me before the playoffs began.
I started to walk home, half expecting Gus to pop-up somewhere along the line to ask the obvious. “Are you nuts?”
But Gus was nowhere to be found as I walked slowly back home to my apartment. I kept asking myself why I’d said yes? What on earth was I thinking? And then I thought, maybe it’s what I really need.
After all, Dean was great. Dean was too freaking good for me, seeing that I’m a mental tramp. And maybe I’d someday feel the same way about him. I mean, what’s not to love? He’s thoughtful and kind and gorgeous and amazing in bed, and...
And he can’t break your heart.
I shook my head--where the hell did that thought come from? It wasn’t that he couldn’t break it, it’s that Dean wouldn’t. Right?
You can’t break what you don’t have in the first place.
My cell phone went off and I answered it not thinking.
“So you don’t tell your best friend you’re engaged! I gotta hear it on the goddamn street!”
I stopped in my tracks. “It just happened and ... and how did you know?”
“Oh please! I’ve got contacts all over the city. Now why wasn’t I the first person you called?”
“I haven’t called anyone.”