by Joy Eileen
“Hey, Faith, how's the date going?”
“It's awful. Can you please come get me? I'll buy you ice cream, candy, or whatever you want, just please hurry. I'm at the little Italian restaurant downtown, please hurry,” I begged, as an older woman came into the bathroom giving me a disgraceful look.
“Hold on,” Jessie said, clicking over to the other line. I leaned on the bathroom wall waiting for her. “Faith, I'm so sorry.”
“You can’t come get me?” I whined into the phone, as the old lady hurried and washed her hands to get away from me.
“It’s not that. I was on the phone with Van; I clicked over to tell him I needed to go get you.” My stomach dropped, already knowing what she was going to say. “Kill's on his way.”
My laugh bounced off the tiled walls.
“I'm so sorry, Faith.” Jessie sounded like she was on the verge of crying.
“Don’t worry about it Jess, as long as I get out of here, I don’t care who comes to get me,” I lied.
For a brief second I wondered if I should tell Robert I wasn't feeling well, or if I should explain I wasn’t feeling a connection, and throw some cash on the table.
I sat next to him contemplating what to do, while he told me about the women who came to our table to proposition him while I was gone, all of which he turned down; what a gentleman.
As I was checking my phone for what felt like the millionth time Kill walked up behind me, scaring the hell out of me.
“Ready, Slick?” he asked in my ear, causing me to jump and hit my knee on the table.
“What are you doing here?” Robert asked, grabbing my leg under the table, causing me to jerk it away and bang it on the table again.
“Shit,” I said, scooting back so I could assess the damage.
“This date's over, Romeo,” Kill said as he shouldered my bag.
“What's going on, Faith?” Robert asked, reaching for my hand, trying to stop me.
“I’m sorry, Robert, but this wasn't working so I called Kill to pick me up. I know it sounds awful and I really am sorry, but I need to go.”
His face turned red with fury. I edged closer to Kill’s side. “I don’t believe this,” Robert screamed, claiming most of the restaurant's attention.
Kill put his hand on his shoulder, pushing him down onto his chair as he tried to move. “Sorry about this, but it wasn’t working. She doesn't want to embarrass you, but I don’t give a shit. I suggest you stay in your seat.”
Kill threw money on the table and steered me out of the restaurant as everyone watched us leave. When I sank into the passenger seat, I was relieved I was out of that situation, but scared of the new one I just entered.
His cheek twitched, making his anger apparent, and he had every right to be. Taking a deep breath to settle my nerves, I launched into a much deserved apology. "I'm sorry, Kill. I shouldn’t have assumed Bambi was telling the truth. You're right. I should have asked you, but she didn’t know I was in the bathroom, and she knew things that made it easy for me to believe, and then I saw you getting out of her car and… I'm a shitty person." I couldn’t stop rambling.
He didn’t say a thing, and I watched his dimple fade in and out.
“Thank you for saving me,” I said trying one last ditch effort to get him to talk.
“I hate you think the worst of me. I've done nothing to show you I'm the person you think I am. Yes, I was an asshole. I screwed any girl that offered, as long as they understood I didn’t do reruns, but I haven’t done that since I met you. You just got out of something, and you need time, I get it. When you went on a date with that asshole, it pissed me the fuck off. Why would you give him a chance when you refuse to give me one?” he asked, pulling into a drive-thru.
He ordered food, and I didn’t answer him until we were on our way home, giving him the well-deserved truth.
“I agreed to go out with him because I knew he was safe. I knew I would never lose my heart to him.”
Kill looked over at me with a sad expression. I reached out to run my hand through his hair on the back of his head. He leaned back into my hand, as I let the silky strands run through my fingers.
“When you're ready, you will give me a chance. I understand it might be a while. Agreeing to go on dates with guys you know aren’t going to mean anything to you shows me you aren’t ready, but when you are, give me a chance. No more going out with pussies. You already have one, and really, there's no reason to have two.”
I took my hand from his head and placed it on my chest with a shocked expression. "Did you, the man-whore of Portland, just try to convince me having multiple vaginas is a bad thing?”
“Well, you know what I mean,” he said, rubbing his hand over the back of his neck.
“I'm scared you would destroy me,” I whispered to him, reiterating my fear.
“Did you ever think you could destroy me?” he replied quietly before pulling into the garage and shutting off the car. We both turned so we were facing each other.
“No, honestly it never occurred to me. You could have anyone you want, why would you want me?” I asked exasperated.
“Because you're the one I want,” he answered.
His eyes blazed with emotion. Not wanting to hold back any longer, this time both my heart and brain were silent, letting my body gravitate toward him. I was throwing caution to the wind, not caring any longer about protecting my broken heart.
Our lips brushed lightly. His taste was intoxicating. My tongue slipped out tracing his bottom lip, asking for entrance. He growled, reaching out to pull me toward him. My seatbelt held me firmly in place.
We were panting, our desire evident in our reactions. I quickly reached to release my seatbelt, ready to climb on top of him. Kill put his hand on my shoulder to stop me.
“Not yet, I'm not letting you regret us. When this happens, I want it to be real.” He kissed the tip of my nose and climbed out of his car, holding the food, while I got the drink carrier.
The guys were in the living room watching T.V. when we walked in. They jumped up when they saw us.
“Food!” Jet cried, trying to snatch the food out of Kill’s hands, but Kill yanked it away and went into the kitchen.
“Do we need to kick sissy boy’s ass?” Jet asked, punching his palm and eyeing me to make sure I was still in one piece.
Van came over and hugged me.
“No, I just couldn’t stand to be away from my boys any longer,” I explained. D had a wounded expression on his face, so I gave him an encouraging smile to let him know I wasn’t hurt.
“No more dates,” Van declared, kissing me on the head, before taking his food and going into the living room.
Kill handed D his food next, and Jet whined.
“Why are you being so mean? Give me my food. My woman will be here soon, and I need to get fueled up before I unleash the Sex God on her.”
Jet thrust into a kitchen chair, and Kill handed him his food to get him to stop molesting innocent furniture. Kill took our food and motioned for me to follow him, which I did, not wanting to upset him more. As we ate, I gave them the gory details of my date.
Amy showed up as we were finishing up, and jumped on Jet’s lap, kissing him soundly. I moved to throw our trash away, not wanting to see Jet show Amy his new moves he had been perfecting on the kitchen chair.
Kill followed me, and soon Van and D were huddled in the kitchen as we heard Amy and Jet making noises I didn’t want to explain.
Van yelled out, not moving from his post in the kitchen. “Go to your room, we don’t want to see that.”
The moaning stopped and Jet answered back. “Of course you do, everyone wants to see the Sex God in his prime, but I want none of you ogling my woman, so we'll be in my room. Don’t bother us.” We waited until Amy's laughter faded before we deemed it safe to leave the kitchen.
“Have you ever played Band Hero?” Van asked, pulling out all of the instruments.
“Nope, I’m not good at video games. I put too
much pressure on myself, and it becomes more stressful than fun.”
“This is different. No saving the world, just hitting the right notes.”
“Ok, I’m game.” I inspected everything as Van set it up.
Van explained all the buttons and different things I needed to do to score. I made the boys go first so I could watch them. Not long after I was singing along and playing the instruments beside them. I hijacked the guitar from D, determined to play it.
When I started fumbling around, Kill pretended to get frustrated. He put his arms around me and guided my fingers to the correct keys. I was flush with his body, and I couldn’t concentrate. Giving up, I let him take my hands and guide my fingers as I leaned into him and soaked up the heat radiating off of him.
“Not fair, you're cheating,” D cried, snatching Kill off of me, making my body weep.
“I was just helping her,” Kill said, laughing as he put D in a headlock, and they wrestled around the living room while Van and I took cover on the couch.
While they were screwing around, I scooted closer to Van. “You were on the phone with Jessie when I called?” I asked, wanting to get the lowdown.
“Yeah, I want to thank you.”
“For what?” I asked, not sure what he knew and afraid I would say something I shouldn’t.
“She said you tried to convince her give me a chance. I'm falling in love with her, and it's ripping me apart that she won’t let me in.”
His face was full of anguish. Kill and D were on the floor doing some contest where they locked legs and tried to flip each other.
“If you love her, you need to prove it to her; she's been through some shit.”
He opened his mouth, and I answered him before he could ask. “It isn’t my place to tell you her story. But I can tell you, if you're willing to be patient, I can see you two having a happily ever after.”
Van rubbed his head, frustrated I wouldn't reveal what I knew.
“I'm rooting for you Van, but if you hurt her, there will be hell to pay.”
“What if she hurts me?”
It was a good possibility that would happen. It didn’t go unnoticed how similar this conversation was to the one Kill and I just had. I was afraid once a person had been through trauma, they were never able to fully trust again, shutting themselves off from opportunities to find happiness.
“Then I'll buy you chocolate and let you pick out any chick flick you want.”
He laughed and pulled me into a hug. I leaned on his side as we watched Kill and D wrestle. When they were both tired and laying on the floor trying to catch their breath, Kill glanced at us, and raised his eyebrow.
“Trying to steal our new singer?” he asked, getting up and plunking down on the couch, making me bounce off of Van.
“Shut up, asshole, she's like a sister and besides, it would be stupid to mess with someone living with us,” Van explained, as if it were obvious.
Kill's half-grin was plastered on his face as he responded, “Who said any of us were smart?”
“You're a dick, Kill.” D decided to put his two cents in now that he had his breath back.
“Faith's way too smart to fall for your fake ‘I'm a good guy act.’ We all know you can’t commit to anything longer than the chase.” D got up off the floor glaring at Kill.
“What the fuck's your problem?” Kill asked, anger simmering off him. Before he could get up, I launched up and landed on Kill’s lap, forcing him back to the couch.
“Enough, there's way too much testosterone in this house. You two need to stop, or I'll make you kiss and make out.”
All three of them stared at me like I grew another head, and I gave them a smug smile.
“Don’t you mean, make up?” Kill asked, looking horrified, and I shook my head.
“Nope, you guys are throwing barbs back and forth like there's some sexual tension between you. Hell, Van and I just watched you engage in foreplay.”
“You're fucking crazy,” Kill said, turning my face toward him so he could look straight at me.
“Yeah, but I got rid of the tension didn’t I?” I stated matter of factly.
“Yeah you did,” he said, winking at me.
I wished everyone around us would disappear so we could engage in some acts of foreplay of our own.
“You aren’t going to make me kiss him, are you?” D asked, sitting as far away from Kill as he could.
“No, but you guys are friends, and I don’t like it when friends are being mean to each other,” I answered, hoping nobody thought it was odd I was still perched on kill’s lap like I belonged there.
“So what are we going to do?” D asked, eyeing me as I ignored his questioning glance.
I tried to move off of Kill, but he held me, anchoring me to him. “Where are you going, Slick? I think your bony butt has imprinted in my thigh, and if you move anymore, I'm going to bruise.”
Van chuckled, flipping through channels to find something to watch.
“I was getting off you so my bony butt doesn’t do permanent damage to your scrawny legs, although it would be satisfying to see your pretty body damaged.” I pressed my ass into his leg, and he howled in agony, and I collapsed onto his chest laughing.
“Damn, that hurt. Stay still and watch T.V.” He pulled me further into him so I was leaning on his chest.
“Let me up, I don’t want to hurt you. You'll never stop bitching if I do, and I can’t take any more of your whining.”
“Fine,” Kill agreed, and stupidly I thought he would let me up, but instead he opened his legs so I plopped onto the couch and fastened his arms around me. In this position, my head was under his chin as I reclined on his chest.
“Are you really going to keep me hostage?” I asked, hoping he said yes.
“Yep, you threatened to make me make out with one of my best friends. I figure with you in the middle, I can keep you and your evil thoughts contained.”
“Good thinking,” Van said, propping his feet on the table as he stopped on a movie.
“I’m not making out with you, so you're safe from me,” D responded, sounding pissy.
“Well, this way I know I'm safe. Not that you aren’t sexy D, but I prefer my kissing partners to be dick-free,” Kill replied.
We settled in to watch the movie when D’s phone rang. He left to go upstairs speaking in his manager’s voice. Kill put his hand on my stomach and rubbed his thumb up and down, the heat of his hand penetrating through the material of my shirt.
My body was on fire, and I couldn’t stay still from all of the energy building up inside me. I shifted slightly trying to get rid of the ache, and I ended up brushing against Kill's groin, which seemed to be having the same problem, except with his outdoor plumbing, his was obvious. He hissed out loud, and Van looked over at him.
“Her belt's digging into my stomach.” His voice was ragged, and I was impressed he was able to come up with a plausible excuse.
“Sorry, I'll go change,” I said, taking the opportunity to get away.
I ran upstairs, contemplating not returning. I pulled out a pair of Batman jammie pants and a black tank top over a sports bra, figuring if I didn’t want my nipples letting everyone know what being close to Kill did to me, I needed to reign them in.
I sat on my bed and deliberated what to do when Kill knocked on my door and opened it.
“Are you coming back down?” He leaned on the door jamb, and if I hadn’t just eaten, I would have devoured him whole.
“Yeah,” I answered getting up off of my bed.
“Batman?”
“Don’t talk about Batman,” I warned him, ready to go rounds for my superhero.
“Wouldn’t even think about it. Those are sexy.” He grinned at me as he slowly perused my body. I applauded myself for thinking ahead and putting a bra on to hide my arousal. I quirked an eyebrow at him, letting him know his line was too cheesy even for me.
“Really, my pj’s are sexy? You need to get out more,” I said, walking
around him wondering if he heard my rapidly beating heart.
“You need to look at yourself in the mirror more,” he replied, pulling me against him.
We stayed that way for a moment before he let me go. I was grateful my escape gave me time to get my sexual tension down to a simmer, but it made me sad I wouldn’t be able to cuddle with Kill anymore.
Van was passed out on the couch, with the remote dangling from his hand. Kill kicked his feet off of the table, startling him awake. “What the...” Van sputtered, looking around, trying to get his bearings.
“You were passed out. If you stay like that, you won’t be able to move your neck just like the last time,” Kill said, grabbing the remote from his hand.
“Shit, I was up late with Jessie. I guess it's catching up with me,” Van answered, rubbing his hands over his face.
“Go to sleep, big man, we have a show tomorrow, and I need you at your best,” Kill said, pounding him on the back, like boys do when they don’t know where to put their hands.
“Yeah, I need all the sleep I can get to keep your ass in tune,” Van remarked, getting up and stretching his arms to the ceiling. “'Night Faith,” he said as he sluggishly made his way upstairs.
“'Night Van,” I responded, before he disappeared.
Kill pulled me down so we were lying on the couch with my head in the crux of his arm. He put his hand under my tank top and circled my belly button with his finger. With every revolution, the fire in my belly intensified, and I was breathing harshly, matching his ragged breaths.
His finger made bigger and bigger loops until they were brushing the waist of my pants. I held my breath when he grazed the elastic band, silently begging him to go further. I turned my head and saw his eyes smoldering with desire. My inner thighs were damp and imploring him to continue.
“Slick,” he whispered. We were so close I felt the air escaping his lips when he spoke.
His hand flattened on my belly, his pinky resting slightly under the elastic band, I held still when all I wanted to do was buck up to get his hand to slip under the barrier.