Alphas on Top

by Harper Sloan

  “Hey, Rina! How are you doing?” Damien lifted me up in a big bear hug as he smacked a kiss on my cheek.

  From out of nowhere Dante yelled, “Get your fucking hands off of her right now!”

  Setting me down, Damien raised an eyebrow at me before we both turned to gape at Dante. Shit! Did he want Damien to know we were doing something? What an idiot.

  “Jesus, Dante. I’m starting to think you’ve developed an anger problem. What the hell is going on with you?”

  I turned back to Damien using up what little strength I had left to smile at him. “Ignore him, Damien. I came over to swim in the pool and now Dante’s pouting because I kicked ass in a lap contest. I’m on my way home now.”

  Grabbing my bag from Dante, I stepped out the door. “Don’t be such a grump ass, Dante. I was on the swim team. Of course I do fast laps!”

  I noticed Damien looking from me, to Dante, to my overnight bag, and I hoped he wasn’t choosing that moment to become super perceptive.

  “Well boys, I’m going to hit the road. See you at work tomorrow. Bye!”

  I hauled ass out the door and all but ran to my car. Throwing my bag into the back, I climbed into the driver’s seat and started the engine.

  I was just about to put the car in drive when there was a knock on my window. I looked out the window to find Dante standing there. I had no choice but to press the button to roll it down. “What’s up, Dante?”

  Crouching down next to the car, he stared at me for a second. “Sabrina. I just… I’m sorry I’m so fucked up, I truly am. You’re amazing. The best woman I’ve ever known. If it could be anybody, of course it would be you. But I can’t ever have that type of relationship. I’m so sorry. I never wanted to hurt you. I care about you. Please tell me that you’re going to be okay.”

  I stared at him in silence for a moment, taking in his ashen face. Was I going to be okay? Absolutely not! I felt like someone had ripped my heart out and run it over with a city bus. I was dying to get away from him so that I could give in to the emotions that were assailing me. Fortunately, my pride reminded me that I was committed to keeping a smile on my face and walking away with at least my dignity intact, considering the fact that my heart was broken.

  “Dante, honestly, I’ll be fine. I’m a big girl. No need for you to have a guilty conscience and stare at me like I’m about to open a vein. I assure you that I’m not. This wasn’t going to work out. We’re doing the best thing walking away now. We’re going to be fine. We just fucked. It was nothing more and nothing less than that. It’s over now. We’re both rational adults. I’ll see you tomorrow at work. Now step back and let me go.”

  Stepping back, he stared at me as I slipped the car into gear, and he was practically green. “Jesus bab…Sabrina. We didn’t just fuck. Don’t ever say that. We made…" He didn’t finish that sentence, instead running his hands through his hair looking completely lost. After about thirty seconds he said, "God, I don’t even know anymore. I guess you’re right. See you tomorrow, Sabrina. Drive home safely.”

  Stepping on the gas, I flew out of his driveway. I made it two blocks before I pulled over and had to park. The tears streamed down my face and I laid my head on the steering wheel as I uncontrollably sobbed. I'd made the stupidest decision of my life when I decided to embark on an affair with the man that I loved all the while knowing that he wouldn't love me back.

  There was no way I could continue being his friend, no way I could continue working for him indefinitely. I'd gambled and had lost everything.

  It took me almost two hours to get home because I had to pull over three times since I couldn’t see through my tears. By the time I got to my house, my head was pounding and I felt as though it just might explode.

  Migraines had become an issue for me starting just after my parents died, but I hadn't had one in several months. The migraine I had when I got home was the worst it had ever been, and it took all of my energy to get from the car to the front door. Once inside, I had to drop to my knees and crawl from the entryway to the kitchen where I grabbed a bottle of ginger ale, and then I went right to my bedroom where I popped a migraine pill and crawled into my bed, pulling the covers over my head.

  I woke up about an hour later, the pounding in my head worse than ever. I barely made it to the bathroom before my stomach rebelled, and I spent the next half hour throwing up. When it was over, I brushed my teeth and then closed all the shades in my room so that it was pitch black before I got back into bed. I took another migraine pill and two sips of ginger ale before blessedly falling back to sleep. Unfortunately, that wasn’t the end of the headache. I was up five more times in the night, throwing up and trying not to panic. I'd never felt so poorly, and I wondered if something was seriously wrong.

  When I woke up around five in the morning, I still felt awful. The migraine had backed off a bit, and I no longer felt like something serious might be happening, but I was in no condition to drive or do anything else. Knowing that I had to tell Dante I wouldn’t be in, I took the easy way out and texted him.

  “Dante, I’ve been up sick all night and will not be in. See you tomorrow. Sorry. Sabrina.”

  About two minutes after I sent the text, my phone started ringing. Of course it was Dante I wondered what the hell was he doing up at five in the morning? I hit the button on the side so that the phone went silent, and I let the call go to voicemail. Once the screen showed that I had a missed call, I powered the phone off entirely because I needed the silence.

  Pulling a pillow over my eyes, I tried to focus on my breathing so that I could relax myself back to sleep. I was in that spot between being awake and asleep when I heard the doorbell, and at first I tried to ignore it. Eventually the ringing turned to knocking, which turned to pounding. When the pounding started, I knew exactly who was there. If my head hadn't already been in danger of exploding, I would have screamed.

  Gingerly I made my way down the hall toward the door. The sound of the pounding was making my blood run cold. Looking through the peephole, I made sure it was him before flinging the door open.

  “I can’t stand here so either follow me or leave.” Turning on my heel, I made my way down the hall and back into my bedroom where it was blessedly dark and cool.

  Lying back down on the bed, I pulled the pillow back over my face. I sensed Dante in the room, and then I felt him sit on the side of the bed next to me. “My god, Rina… I had to check that you didn’t just hate me too much to come in to work, but you look awful. What’s wrong?”

  Keeping my eyes under the pillow I whispered to him, “Dante, I’m not skipping work because I hate you. I’ve got a horrific migraine. I’ve been throwing up all night. Please be quiet. I need this to go away.”

  Whispering back to me he said, “I’m not leaving you like this. I’ll be quiet, but I’m staying.”

  I was in agony so I just said, “Fine.” That was all I had, because the walk up and down the hall zapped all my strength and I felt like crap again.

  I sensed when Dante left the bedroom, and I assumed he had gone to the living room to watch television or something. Remembering that it was time to take another migraine pill, I took it and washed it down with a sip of ginger ale before rolling over and putting the pillow back over my eyes.

  I was surprised when I felt the bed dip as Dante sat back down. The bed moved a little as he shifted around. “Rina, I brought your neck roll in. I heated it up. Let me put it on you.”

  Holding my head up for a minute, I allowed him to put the neck roll in place. Lying back down, I enjoyed the warmth. It felt so good, and I mentally berated myself for not getting it out the night before. I focused on my breathing, eventually falling asleep again.

  The next time I woke up, I felt a little better. My migraine had been downgraded to a pounding headache, but my body felt as though I’d gone ten rounds with Mike Tyson. I was dehydrated, felt scummy, and I ached.

  Doing a quick mental scan of my body, I figured that I could probably stand throu
gh a shower. From right next to me I felt Dante move before he whispered, “You’re awake, aren’t you?”

  “Yes. Thank you for whispering, but you can talk a little bit louder. Just keep it real low. I’m going into the bathroom to take a shower. I feel less like I’m going to die. You can go now.”

  I heard him exhale an aggravated breath out, and I knew he was running his hands through his hair. “Rina please, I can’t even think of leaving till I know you are really alright. Don’t push me away.”

  I could only nod; afraid that too much talking would bring the migraine back.

  “I’m going to go start the shower for you. I’ll be right back.” The bed dipped as he walked away.

  A couple of minutes later, he was back. I watched in silence, my eyes still half closed as he came to the bed. He was naked, save for a towel around his waist. Bending forward, he scooped me up into his arms before taking me to the bathroom, where he made quick work of stripping me before dropping his towel and guiding me to the toilet area. He returned a minute later and lifted me up before taking me into the shower.

  Of course it occurred to me that I could argue, but what would have been the point? He had seen me naked, and I needed help. It was hard for me to even stand right then, and I appreciated his effort.

  Luckily there was a five-foot long bench that ran the length of my shower wall, and he placed me on it before making quick work of thoroughly washing me from head to toe.

  As usual, the water revived me. I relaxed as it washed away the effects of the migraine and the awful night I had spent vomiting. I watched quietly as Dante quickly washed himself, wishing that things were different and that I could touch him. I missed his hands on me, missed melting into him.

  When he was finished, he stepped out of the shower, leaving the water on as it continued to wash over me. Through the glass doors, I saw him dry himself before wrapping the towel around his waist again and leaving the bathroom.

  After a few minutes, he came back in and made his way to the shower stall, grabbing two towels on his way. Opening the shower door and turning the water off, he stepped inside and then helped me stand before he wrapped one towel around my head. He dried me with the other before walking me to the sink where he stood as I brushed my teeth.

  Grabbing the robe I had hanging on the back of the door, he secured it around me and then carried me back to the bedroom. “I changed the sheets, so everything is clean,” he said as he placed me back on the bed. Coming around the other side, he sat down and pulled me toward him.

  “Tilt your head back. I’m going to brush your hair.”

  Ever so gently he rubbed my hair with the towel and then spent the next ten minutes gently brushing it. I’d always loved having my hair brushed because it was so calming, and I relaxed as he did it.

  When he was finished brushing my hair, I laid back and did a quick mental self-diagnostic, relieved that I felt better. My headache was at a six, which was a serious improvement. It was dark and cool in my room, and I certainly felt more human.

  “I think I feel well enough to switch off from the migraine medicine now. Can you get me three Advil and a glass of iced tea please?”

  “Of course, baby." Jumping from the bed, he headed into the kitchen. I ignored the baby slip, even though my heart beat funny when he did it. I knew that I'd miss his possessiveness, sweet talk and caring the most. While he was gone, I took the opportunity to get up and put on a thong, a pair of pajama shorts and a tee shirt.

  Returning to bed, I laid down, but I no longer felt like sitting in the dark. I grabbed the remote and turned the television on, settling on a home and garden show that would not require me to follow along or think. I turned the volume way down and sat back, waiting for Dante to return.

  He came back in holding a tray that had two glasses of iced tea and two bagels with cream cheese. Handing me the three Advil, he climbed back into the bed and sat next to me. He passed me the iced tea, and once I swallowed the Advil, he handed over the bagel. “I figured you could use this.”

  I smiled at him as I nodded in the affirmative. “Yeah, I’m running on empty. Thanks for this.” He nodded at me, then turned his head and ate his bagel too. We ate in silence, and I was glad for it.

  I needed to stay relaxed because I couldn’t afford to get so upset again. My heart couldn’t handle it, and I knew my head couldn’t, but just sitting in bed next to him while he wore only a towel was extremely difficult. Even feeling like road kill, I still wanted to touch him.

  Gesturing toward the television he said, “What are we watching?” I shook my head and shrugged my shoulders. “Don’t know. I picked some home and garden show so that I wouldn’t need to follow along.”

  “Makes sense,” he said with a nod. “How do you feel now?”

  “The shower helped a lot, and the bagel and iced tea are bringing me back to life. I do feel better now. Thank you for all of your help. You were a lifesaver. I’m really okay now though, so you can go any time.”

  He grimaced as I said that, and I knew he didn’t love the idea. “Sabrina, I’d like to spend at least another few hours here. Until I’m positive you are actually okay. Can you stand to have me here?”

  Wow. He had clearly gotten the wrong end of the stick there. Could I stand to have him there? I think the question was whether he could stand to be there because it was such a relationship thing. In any event, I was committed to seeing the whole thing through with a smile on my face, so I nodded my agreement.

  “Dante, you know that it’s fine. Don’t be like that. We’re still friends. I’m just saying you shouldn’t feel as though you have to stay. I know you have work, and I feel guilty you have missed the morning because of me.”

  He didn’t look happy with my response, giving a jerky nod of his head. “I’m playing hooky from work to take care of you because I was worried. Isn’t that what a true friend would do?”

  I giggled softly at the idea of Dante playing hooky from work. He was so serious about work that I couldn’t imagine he had ever done it before.

  Cocking his eyebrows, he asked, “What are you laughing at baby… umm… Rina?”

  Completely ignoring his second ‘baby’ slip of the day, I poked him in the side. “I’m laughing at the very idea of you playing hooky. It’s so not something you would normally do. So… thanks for being a friend.”

  Grabbing the television remote from my bedside table, I tossed it across the bed at him. “I think I can watch TV now. Choose something to watch.”

  He spent the next few minutes going through the guide, finding nothing to watch. We decided to put a DVD in, and I chose 'Back to the Future'.

  We spent the rest of the day in bed relaxing as we watched the entire trilogy of 'Back to the Future' movies. In between movies one and two, he made us macaroni and cheese.

  After the third movie was over, it was after seven and we ordered dinner from a local diner. I needed to get out, so I took the car ride with him to pick it up. When we got home I all but inhaled my open-faced turkey sandwich with mashed potatoes. That was a sure sign that I felt much better, although by the time we were finished eating, I was exhausted again.

  I’d just laid my fork down on the table when Dante hoisted me up and carried me back to the bedroom. Spluttering I said, “What are you doing? I feel better. I can walk.”

  “I know you can walk baby. But you’re yawning like crazy and your eyes keep closing. You’re exhausted. It's time for you to get some real sleep.”

  Once again, he'd slipped and called me baby. I wondered how long it would take him to stop doing that before I mentally recoiled in horror as I realized that he might call all of his conquests baby so that he didn't have to remember names.

  Feeling me stiffen he asked, "Sabrina, what's wrong?"

  I shook my head and didn't answer, not wanting to give voice to my horrible suspicion. I was still dressed in the pajamas I had worn all day, so he was able to put me right into bed. I raised an eyebrow as he started to get
undressed. “What are you doing?”

  “I’m going to stay the night. Don’t fight me on this. You do seem better, but I’ll feel much more comfortable knowing for sure that you’re fine, and that you sleep through the night with no more headaches and no sickness.”

  When did Dante become Florence Nightingale? I wound up nodding my head at him, deciding that I was just too groggy and worn out to argue. “Fine, you can stay.”

  “Good girl. Will you mind if I answer some emails on my iPad while you sleep? I know the light could be a problem for you.”

  “No problem, go ahead.” Turning onto my side, I tried to get comfortable. Unfortunately, I couldn't get past the idea that I was one "baby" in an endless line, and I stayed taut as a bowstring.

  From right behind me he said, "Alright, that's it. Something is wrong. What's happening Sabrina? Are you going to get sick again?"

  Shaking my head, I said no.

  He made a sound of worry, rolling me over so that he could look at me. "If it's not that, please tell me what's wrong. I can feel how tense you are, and you look miserable all of a sudden."

  I could see that he wasn't going to let it go, and closing my eyes I blurted out, "You keep calling me baby. Is that what you do with your women? Do you call them baby so you don't have to remember their names? Am I just another baby in a long line?"

  His harsh inhalation sounded tortured, and I cracked open an eye to look at him. His eyes were closed and his jaw was clenched almost as if he were in pain. Looking down at me, he shook his head.

  "Jesus, Sabrina, I would never. You're the only one. I never used endearments with those women. You aren't another in a long line-- you're the only. I don't want you thinking things like this, wondering if you're just another notch. You're not, you never were, and you never could be. They didn't mean anything. You mean ev… You mean something to me. Please, don't compare yourself to them. There is nothing remotely similar between you and what I did with them."