by T. J. West
I shake my head, not believing that theory. “I have never had that impression of him.”
“You’re not looking close enough, darlin’,” he lifts my chin with his fingers.
I almost die from his sweet gesture that all thoughts of my father go right out the window. “I’m looking close enough right now, and I like what I see,” I quietly say.
He moves a step closer to me which makes my heart pound excessively hard and fast. I can see my own breath now when his face bends down toward mine. Oh my God, I so want him to kiss me!
His breath is inches away from my lips. “You really have no idea what you’re getting yourself into.”
Could this moment get anymore hot? I gulp down my stunned reaction and reply, “Does that mean you’ll go out with me?”
He moves away from me, ruining my urge to throw my arms around him; he stares at me and grins. “You don’t give up that easily do you?”
I chuckle and innocently bite my lip. “My father taught me to always go for what I want. I never give up.”
“I like how your mind works.”
“Good.” I am doing the happy dance in my head and feeling on top of the world. “Now, where shall we go?”
“I don’t have a lot of money -”
“Hey,” I put my gloved hand on his covered chest. “I don’t care about that, Lucas. Money doesn’t make the person, the heart does. Let’s keep our evening simple and meaningful. I’d say Old Town in Scottsdale? Go to a small dinner, then take it from there. Nothing big—I just want to spend time with you, that’s all.” I meant every word I said. I don’t care about if he has money or not, or if he lives in a ditch or in a mansion. There is something about him I like and it has nothing to do with where he comes from. I really hope he believes me.
My heart starts to beat erratically once again when he takes my hand and removes it from his chest, as he holds it he squeezes it. He looks down at our combined, gloved hands and says, “You really are one of kind, Faith.”
Ugh. . . . that damn alarm again! I don’t want to get up. I don’t want to do anything that pertains to work. I want to stay curled up in a ball and sleep the day away—just like I did on Saturday and on Sunday. I didn’t answer any calls, texts or answer my best friends pounding at the door. I didn’t want to talk or see anyone.
I humiliated myself Friday night; wearing no panties in hopes of getting Lucas. Why do I feel like such a slut knowing I actually got him? He found me, fucked me, and left me wet and wanting more, yet still hating him within my aching heart. It was my fault—I played my insecurities, stomping on them until I couldn’t feel them anymore; they were buried along with the feeling of his hardness inside my body. Why I did such a thing to myself was beyond my own understanding. I lost control, lost myself in the process of his warmth, voice, breathing, touch, and I became weak because I missed him. I missed everything about him, and wanted him so much. Unfortunately my humiliation drowned me.
June and Phillip found me crying up on the terrace a couple hours after I gave myself to Lucas. I couldn’t explain to them what happened, why I was so distraught. I just wanted to go home and be left alone. June stayed behind while Phillip took me back to the hotel. He wanted to stay and comfort me, but that was the last thing I wanted from him. The guilt was eating at me, so much so I asked him to give me some space. I didn’t want to see him or even look at him. He took it rather well, considering I yelled at him to go take his comfort somewhere else and leave me the hell alone.
June wouldn’t stop bugging me; she kept texting me, coming up to my room and demanding I open the door. She wanted answers that I couldn’t give. Three days of ignoring her and she had had enough. She got my security guard to unlock my door because even he was getting concerned. I can’t say that I blamed her, I would have done the same thing if June went AWOL.
She found me looking like shit; I was still in bed, hair matted to my face, and red puffy eyes. The room was dark and dreary so she opened the curtains, blinding me. I hid my head under the covers shouting at her to leave me alone. June wouldn’t hear of it.
She crawled on my bed and joined me underneath the sheets. “Okay, this has gone on long enough, Faith. What’s wrong? What happened?”
I groan, “Everything’s wrong, June bug.”
“Did something happen between you and Lucky?” I don’t even have to say a word to her and she can already figure me out. “Don’t hold back, honey, tell me.”
I don’t hold back. I tell her everything that happened on that terrace—no panties and all.
After I bare my humiliation I start to choke up again. “I’m horrible, so horrible.” I bury my face into my hands.
“Stop saying you’re horrible, because you’re not!”
I lift the sheet from our heads, hair flying every which way, and prop myself up against my pillows; I turn facing June. “Who does something like that! Tell me!” I grab a tissue and blow my nose. I feel like I have been pounded by a hammer; my head is aching while my eyes are raw from all the crying.
June moves closer to my side and dabs my eyes with her finger. “You both had a moment,” she gently points out.
I want to laugh it’s sounds so ridiculous—both had a moment my ass. I scoff, “A moment where we hadn’t seen or talked to one another for five years and then fucked each other, out on the terrace! What kind of moment is that! I feel sick because I was there with Phillip.”
“Uh,” she shrugs. “. . . . don’t worry about Phillip.”
What was that supposed to mean?
“Why? Why do you say it like that?” I ask suspiciously.
She nervously giggles and says, “Nothing. I just wouldn’t worry about him. It’s not like you guys are committed or anything. Plus, you’ve mentioned to him on multiple occasions you were never going to be anything to each other.”
I throw my head back and huff. “He’s in love with me, June!”
“Still, that’s his fault. You didn’t ask for him to feel anything for you.”
I know she’s right, but it didn’t make me feel any better. I am not a cheater, no matter how serious or not the relationship is.
I have come to the conclusion that I need to break up with Phillip. “I need to stop seeing him altogether. I cannot let this go any further.”
June agrees with me. “That’s probably the best thing. . . . I mean considering you have to deal with Lucky and all.”
“I am not going to deal with Lucas, ever,” I stubbornly state, crossing my arms.
“You sure? Cuz, he was in bad shape yesterday during the recording session. You need to clear this up before he fucks his career up.”
Damn, she had a point there. “I don’t want that to happen,” I mutter, with a look of realization.
“Then go see him.” She nudges me.
Whether I wanted to or not, June was right. I have to go see him and clear this mess up. Moments like these remind me of our times in college. We met the first day we moved into our dorm room, hitting it off immediately. We had a few things in common such as: studying business, we both loved music. . . . and, oh yeah—our families were wealthy. Other than that we couldn’t be more opposite from one another. For one, she’s outgoing, feisty and flirty. As for me, I’m reserved, quiet, and guarded. June has definitely rubbed off on me and has helped me with my confidence. For example: I was up all night working on a five page speech for my public speaking class; I was seriously ready to give up on the course because I had the worst feeling I was going to bomb the speech, convinced I would sound like a total idiot. We were supposed to present a speech about gratitude—it was the most aggravating essay I had ever written. June ordered me to sit on my bed so she could relay the speech back to me. When she read the words that I had struggled with for hours. . . . .she made them sound like music to my ears; I was blown away. From then on I felt more confident I was going to succeed. June was my hero. Yes, it may sound a bit melodramatic, but what she did for me saved my ego.
After be
ing convinced about seeing Lucas, June wrote down his address. I stared at the address and hesitated—I didn’t want to do this by myself. I wanted June to come with me, but she said no, I needed to do this on my own—again, she was right.
I ordered us breakfast, took a long hot shower and washed away my guilty conscience. My eyes still looked puffy so I applied my best eye cream and the best concealer I could find to hide any trace of my crying marathon.
Once I get this meeting out of the way I will end things with Phillip once and for all. I am done playing him; he needs someone who is devoted, trustworthy, loyal and honest—all the things I am not.
Lucas never brought me around to see where he lived or introduced me to his mother. I know he lived a hard life, had a drug-addict of a mother; he basically raised himself. He told me of the times he got arrested for doing his mom favors by selling or buying drugs for her. I cannot imagine being brought up in a life like that. My heart hurt for him even though he told me never to pity him. When we were together he lived his life the way he saw fit and did it honestly and with integrity; he left his mother behind and lived with his best friend, Danny, working for my dads company. We never talked much about his criminal history. He was ashamed of it, and never wanted to describe or re-live those memories—I respected him and never brought it up.
Being in front of his apartment building and looking up at the door from the stairs is a bit surreal. For some reason Danny didn’t like me coming to their place, back in Arizona. He never cared for me much and to this day I don’t know why. I never did anything to him, yet he always made me feel uncomfortable whenever I was in his presence. I just hope he’s not home so I can speak to Lucas without feeling judged. Maybe he doesn’t live with Lucas and I’m worrying about nothing?
I am hesitant to knock on the door. What am I supposed to say to him? Hey, sorry we fucked, or Do you need a blowjob today? I am a complete mess and need to get my brain sorted out. I take three deep breaths and knock on the door. I hear movement behind the door, yet no action to open it. I knock again and raise my voice, “Lucas? I know you’re there.” God, I am feeling like a fool right now. Obviously he doesn’t want to see me, but I’ll try one more time. If he doesn’t answer I’ll leave and will never bother him again. “I’m sorry I came unannounced. Can you open the door so we can talk?” Finally, I hear the rustling of the lock. I was so nervous when that door opened and I saw him standing there with wet hair and smelling like Irish Spring soap. I wanted to grab hold of him, erase all the bad memories and bring back what he left behind. I wanted him to lift me up, take me to bed, devour my body and never let me go—I must have looked dumbstruck when he motioned me inside. I shake the wishful thinking out of my head and walk inside his tiny apartment. The room looked like any other bachelor pad; sofa, reclining chair, TV, beer bottles all over the place and ugly patio chairs for extra seating—definitely not worth a million dollars.
He doesn’t say a word to me, instead, goes to the small kitchen, fills a glass with water and chugs it down. He places it on the counter, along with his hands, and stares down at his shoes. I am rather uncomfortable with the silent treatment he’s giving me. I clear my throat. “Um, Danny isn’t here, is he?” Lucas pops his head up and glares at me; it scares me. I knew it was a bad idea to clear things up with him. I am going to kill June for giving me the impression that I should be the one making things right with him!
Before I get the chance to run for the door he treads his way over to me. He almost bumps chests with me, that’s how close he comes into my space. I put the palm of my hand on his chest and lightly push him away; the look in his eyes are dark, scary and very much a mystery. I blurt out, “About the other night. Do you regret it?”
“Why? Do you?” He snaps at me. He looks angry, yet confused with furrowed brows.
I realize my hand is still on his chest; I’m afraid to let go. I’m afraid of this whole situation. I stutter on my words, “It. . . . it. . . . it shouldn’t have happened.” My voice came out way too soft. I need to find my backbone.
He swipes a hand through his wet hair and sighs. “I had a moment of weakness. Couldn’t help myself.”
That’s the best answer he could give me? I chuckle without any humor and cross my arms. “Is that a norm for you? Having moments of weakness with other women?”
“Not the way I was with you, no.” His eyes automatically soften. “I don’t care about the women I sleep with. I don’t go around hunting for them, they find me.” In a way I do believe that. I can totally see the women jumping after Lucas, without any effort coming from him. Just when I thought I had the courage to step away I am suddenly pressed against a wall, with my arms touching his chest. I’m now trapped. I slightly tilt my face, looking up into his eyes. He brings his thumb and finger under my chin and expresses, “But you—I found you. I needed you.”
Holy crap, why is this moment so intense? Why is he so intense?
With my chin still intact within his fingers I finally get the courage to ask him, “All that time we spent with each other. . . . was it some fling, some. . . . some setup to get inside my fathers checkbook?”
“No.”
“You loved me?”
“Yes.”
“Then why would you take the money?”
Lucas relieves a breath and steps away from me. “I don’t have the right answer for you,” shaking his head.
We step away from the wall, and I glance around his untidy apartment. “Obviously you didn’t use it for your apartment,” I criticize.
He stuffs his hands into his pockets and shrugs. “The place isn’t much, but it works.”
I just want to throw myself under a bus. I didn’t mean to sound so bitchy. “You know I never cared about that, Lucas.” I look down at my feet, feeling foolish.
“I know you didn’t.” He clears his throat and changes his tone. “You’re right though. You’d think I go ahead and spend it on a big house or get my mom out of that trailer, but I didn’t.” At this very moment I thought he was going to actually tell me the truth; to tell me he didn’t cash that stupid check, to admit he got blackmailed by my father. Unfortunately he couldn’t. He put up a front and lied straight to my face. “I got out of town, bought some nice vans with it and put the rest away for a rainy day.”
I wanted to slap him for sounding like such a jerk. “That’s bullshit,” I clip. I know he only wants me to get upset, to make me believe he actually spent the money. He wants me to keep on hating him; deep down I still hate him for what he did, but up at the surface I still love him.
“Think what you want. I’m just really sorry about everything—about last week, and now. . . . I’m sorry about now, how I am hurting you all over again.”
It’s amazing how he can switch my emotions from hot to cold in an instant—it’s confusing and conflicting. “You have no idea what last week did to me!” I am suddenly angry. I push away from the wall and get up into his face, letting him know exactly what he did to me and how last week affected my heart. “Hearing you sing a song that was meant for me, seeing all those women scream your name, wanting you, wanting the one man who has always been a part of me! You have no idea how I felt when you wrapped your arms around my waist, to feel your breath on my skin, to be bent over having your cock buried deep inside of me.” I lower my voice, “No one—and I mean no one has ever made me so angry, so exposed, so vulnerable. Yet at the same time, made me feel so fulfilled, so turned on, so alive.” I feel out of breath, like the wind had caught my lungs, squeezing them. I needed to get out of here and let Lucas live on without me. Clearly it’s what he has chosen, because of my fathers threats. I close my eyes and take a deep breath. As I open them back up I gather Lucas’ face into the palm of my hands and kiss him on the cheek. I breathe in the springy soap, keeping the smell in my senses and look into his now warm, loving brown eyes. “I wish you well, Lucas,” I whisper. “Good luck with your music.”
As I head out the door I touch my lips, still feeling
his rough stubble against them. I don’t want to leave, yet I can’t play his game anymore. It’s his turn to fight for me like I had fought for him five years ago. I turn around and take a glimpse of him one last time. He looks defeated and sad. I give him one small smile and walk out.
I confuse the hell out of myself. Why do I hate him so? Yet I would lay down my life for him? He’s the one who hurt me, making me think he actually used that check to buy himself luxuries. All these years I have done everything I can to put him and our past behind me. Now he’s back inside my mind, my soul, my heart, my body. I am so lost inside my head I think I am about to actually lose it this time. I had no straight answers from Lucas; he gave me so many mixed signals I didn’t know which one to believe. That’s just it—I cannot go after either signal—it’s now his time to serve first, his time to stop being scared and fight for what he feels in his heart.
I am walking to my car when I hear Danny approach me from behind. Just when I thought things couldn’t get any worse. “Hey, what the hell are you doing here?”
I knew this wasn’t going to be a calm and collective reunion, yet I try to be as nice and polite as I can be. “Danny—“
But he cuts me off like he is slitting my throat. “You need to stay away from Lucky,” he point’s angrily into my face.
“He -”
“If you mess anything up for us, you’ll pay for this.”
I lightly gasp. “What are you talking about, Danny? I didn’t do anything!” I yell.
“You nearly destroyed my best friend.”
“I did no such thing! If anyone got destroyed it was me!” Nice and polite went right out the window. “And you have a lot of nerve blaming me and threatening me!”
“Just stay away from him.”
“Who do you think you are, huh? His keeper?”
“I’m someone who’s always been there for him, Faith. I saw what you did to him, how he fell for you when you came crying to him every single time your daddy made you mad. You didn’t give a flying fuck what it did to Lucky. Thank God he used his balls and took that check. The best thing he ever did for himself was get far away from you and your hysterics.”