by Denise Wells
“Look, can we just start over?”
“Get the fuck out of my house.”
“Remi, if you think about this logically—”
“There is nothing logical about making a bet to sleep with someone. That’s high school. And horrible. And pathetic. And manipulative.”
“What about what you did?”
“I didn’t do anything near as bad as you.”
“But isn’t a bet a bet? How come mine is worse?”
“Just get out, Chance. I don’t want you here. I don’t want to talk to you. I don’t want to see you.”
Does she mean just right now? Or ever?
Fuck, I've got to fix this.
How do I fix this?
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
One step at a time. Let her calm down. Give her space.
She stands, grabs my arm, and pulls me toward the front door. I go willingly, but only because I feel like I need to give her time to calm down and become rational again. Then she’ll see that we kind of did the same thing.
I hope.
“I’ll call you later,” I say, as she pushes me through the doorway.
“Never call me again.” She slams the door behind me for emphasis.
The ground drops out from under me with about the same force as she slams the door. I sit heavily on the front stoop to try and regroup. Does she really mean to never call her? My heart feels heavy in my chest. It’s hard to breathe. How did I fuck this up so monumentally?
It's my own fault for making such a dick bet to begin with. What made me think it was okay to do this? To treat another person in this manner. My God, if someone did the same to my sisters, I'd kill them. No hesitation.
Maybe it's my penance for all the one-night stands? My lack of commitment with women. Because I didn’t try harder to help Helen. Or, shit, for making the bet to begin with. I don't deserve her. But fuck if I don't want her. I bury my head in my hands, then rub them roughly over my face.
I need to get out of here before I do something stupid.
Actually, maybe I need to get out of here so I can do something stupid.
Chapter 35
Remi
I immediately begin to pace the minute Chance is out the door. I need to take the edge off my anger, because right now I feel like doing something reckless. When I was younger, that something included cutting myself. But I’m old enough now to realize cuts leave scars, and I don’t like scars. So now that’s what drinking is for. Being reckless.
I grab a bottle of tequila and do a shot. Then another. Enjoying the warmth that begins spreading through my body. I do a third shot because the first two felt so good. But it’s not enough. I resume pacing and text Kat a ‘911’ warning her that I’m going to video-call her soon. I know Kat is home because Brad was going to make her some kind of special dinner tonight. Just like I know that Lexie is at her winery doing things that winemakers do when the wine needs their attention.
I hate to interrupt Kat when she has quality time with Brad, but I need her. I pull up her contact on my phone and move to hit video call. Then stop and laugh at myself. I’ll interrupt Kat’s sexy time with no problem, but I leave Lexie to her wine. Which only serves to reinforce to me the respect that I have for work, versus the lack of respect that I have for relationships. But if tonight has proven anything, I’m right to feel that way.
Logically, part of me knows that I shouldn’t be mad at Chance for having a bet when I had one too. And usually I rule by logic. But right now, my emotions are winning.
Pacing resumes.
My thoughts are spinning out of control.
Kat is going to have to talk me off the proverbial ledge and make me sane again. I feel betrayed and hurt and conflicted. I finally opened up to that asshole and this is what I get in return. Which is exactly why I should have remembered that I can trust no one.
Except for Kat and Lexie.
I pull Kat’s contact back up, just as my doorbell rings.
WTF?
I storm to the door, flinging it open, not even bothering with checking the peephole.
Chance stands there looking at his feet, a flush creeping up his neck.
“I'm sorry,” I say. “Was I not clear before? I don't want you anywhere around me. I don't want to see you. I don't want to talk to you. You're a pathetic excuse for a man. I hate you.” I move to slam the door, but he blocks it with his hand.
He clears his throat. “My bike is in your garage.”
“Excuse me?”
“I know you don't want to see me. I'm trying to abide by your wishes. But my bike is in your garage, so I can't leave.”
“Walk. Call a cab. Hitchhike for all I care.”
My fingernails bite into the palms of my hands as I clench my fists. I've never wanted to punch someone as badly as I want to punch him.
His head hangs low, but his eyes peek up at me. A sucker punch straight to the gut. I step back and hold the door open for him.
I follow him through the kitchen and into the garage. He pushes the wall button to open the door. Then turns back toward me. “Don't forget to lock up after I leave.”
“Don't fucking tell me what to do.”
He closes his eyes and takes a breath. When he opens them again, I can see they are slightly watery. “For what it's worth, I am sorry,” he says. He holds one hand up, like he's going to touch me, then drops it to his side. I stand there, suddenly not sure if I would have allowed the touch or not.
He rolls his bike outside, then waits for me to close the garage.
Pieces of him disappear as the big door rolls down its tracks until there's nothing left of Chance Bauer at all. I hear the bike start up as I walk back into the house and hit the button to video call Kat.
I expect it to take her a few rings to answer. What I don’t expect is for Brad to answer right away.
“Hey, gorgeous,” he says.
“I’m going to need you to beat someone up for me,” I tell him.
“You got it, baby girl. You just let me know who and I’m on it.” He flexes his muscles and pushes out his chest, growling slightly at the screen.
“Apparently Chance had a bet with Alex that he could fuck me and date me.”
His eyes widen. “He told you?”
My eyes narrow. “So you did know?” My tears dry up as my body refills with fury. There was a small part of me that was holding out hope that maybe Brad didn’t really know. It seems dumb now that I think about it. Why would Chance lie about that?
“Uh...” Brad sets the phone down, so now all I can see is the ceiling.
“Brad?”
He doesn’t answer, but I can hear him in the background, “Rem’s on the phone, baby. I think you need to talk to her. Don’t be mad at me.”
“Is she okay? Why would I be mad at you?” Kat’s head appears in the screen. “Hey sweetie, you okay?”
“No! Did you know that Chance had a bet with Alex that he could fuck me?”
“Are you kidding?”
“No. And Brad knew about it.”
“What?” She turns, pointing the phone in his direction, so Brad is now on video as well. To his credit, he looks guilty as hell.
“You said you wouldn’t be mad,” he said.
“No, you asked me not to be mad. I never responded. You better tell us how you know, and why you didn’t warn us, or I’ll have your balls in a—”
“Ok! I overheard them talking. He said it wasn’t as bad as it sounded. And that he liked Remi. I didn’t want to get in the middle. He seemed sincere.” He starts listing off excuses as to why he didn’t say anything.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Kat sounds more hurt than angry.
He shrugs. “Bro code.”
“Bro code? Are you fucking kidding me?” Kat asks. “He’s not your bro. There’s no code there. He’s just a guy. You aren’t even friends. Your loyalty is to me. And to my girls. For fuck’s sake, Brad. What the hell is wrong with you?”
“Well, you guys had a bet—
”
“You told him we had a bet?” I ask Kat. “So much for loyalty.”
“That’s not fair,” Kat says. “I tell him everything. I have to.”
“Clearly THAT doesn’t go both ways in your relationship. You both piss me off,” I say.
“CLEARLY,” Kat says.
“I’m sorry, Remi,” Brad says. “I didn’t want to get in the middle of anything, and—”
“Well you’re in the middle now,” I tell him.
“I get it, I get it. How can I help?” he asks.
“You can go away for a few hours,” Kat says.
“What?” Brad and I both ask at the same time.
“Go away. For a while. Remi and I are going to talk shit and make voodoo dolls of you and Bauer.”
“Why do I have to go away? Why can’t you go to Remi’s?” Brad asks. I’m glad he asks because I was wondering the same thing. I kind of don’t want to leave my house.
“Because I’m pretty sure I’m mad at you. And I don’t want to look at your face right now. But I also want to go in the hot tub, and Remi doesn’t have one.”
She has a good point there. A dip in the hot tub sounds awesome.
“What about date night?” Brad asks her.
“Dinner was good, but we’re finished eating. So, technically the date is over.”
“What about, you know… dessert?” he asks. I scoff. Kat scoffs right along with me.
“Oh, there will be no dessert,” she says. “Not only will there be no dessert, but there is a dessert moratorium until further notice.”
“What? Why?” Brad asks, his voice a little whiny. I want to tell him to grow a pair, but I also don’t want to interrupt this discussion. Watching the dynamics of their relationship has always been a little bit fascinating to me. Because Kat is my best friend, and because it’s a relationship that is healthy and positive. And, of course I want that for her, but I also want to analyze it and try to dissect the bits and pieces that make up the successful whole.
“Sides, babe. There are always sides and you chose the wrong one. Even if you didn’t want to tell Remi, you should have told me.”
“I just—” he says.
“I know,” Kat says. “You didn’t want to be in the middle, blah, blah, blah. Well, now you’re not. You aren’t even in the equation. You’re going out for a while so Remi and I can have girl-talk.”
“Where am I supposed to go? It’s eight-thirty on a Sunday night.”
“I don’t know. What about your bro Bauer’s house. Since y’all are so close and shit,” Kat says.
“Try to do the right thing, and this is how they treat you,” he says, but it’s under his breath and in more of a teasing tone than a serious one. He gives Kat a kiss on the top of her head, then blows one toward me via the video screen and leaves the room.
“Come over,” Kat says. “The hot tub is bubbling, and I’ve got wine and sweets.” Kat and I live in the same neighborhood. But her house is on the water, whereas mine is a couple blocks from it. I can get to her house on foot in about five minutes, and the walk is an enjoyable one. So, I’m pretty much out my door before she finishes the words ‘sweets.’
We sink down into the water, a floating table filled with gummy bears between us. I bite the heads off each one I grab, envisioning doing the same to Chance, then put the mangled bodies back on the table to finish off later.
“Look,” Kat says. “I totally understand that you’re angry. And I get why. But let’s be real for a minute, you don’t really have a leg to stand on with this argument.”
“Of course I do. Why would you say that?”
“Because we had our own bet.”
“He took money, Kat.”
“Wait, he already won the bet?”
“No, he won half the bet, and he took the money.”
“Hmm,” she says, tapping her index finger on her lips. “Okay, that is a super dick move on his part, but maybe he really needed the money.”
“Kat he prostituted me.”
“Technically, I think he prostituted himself,” she says.
“Whatever,” I say. I don't tell her that's the same thing Chance said.
“And,” she continues. “We did have our own bet.”
“But our bet didn’t include sex.”
“It could have. I mean our bet was for a month and in that time, most people have sex. Fuck, Rem, in that time you did have sex.”
“Fine, but our bet wasn't dependent upon sex,” I say.
“Is that the part that bothers you? That it was about sex? I find that hard to believe.”
“Thanks a lot. I could get upset about sex.”
“You could, sure. But you probably wouldn’t.”
I shrug my shoulders in return. She stays silent. Doing that thing to me again that only she seems able to do. I can’t handle it. I start talking.
“Okay, I get logically that I shouldn’t be upset about the bet. That it’s hypocritical. But I can’t help it. I’m hurt.”
“Remi!” Kat shrieks. “That’s wonderful, congratulations!”
I choke slightly on my wine, and she has to pat me on the back to help me work it down.
“I just basically told you my emotions have been stomped on and you say congratulations?”
“Yes, because you had emotions. And it hurt that they were stomped on. This is fantastic! It means you’re feeling something that you’ve opened yourself up.”
“Oh please.”
“For real. This is exactly what I wanted for you. This is what you avoid in life. And I know it totally sucks right now, but trust me, it’s a wonderful thing to just abandon yourself to a relationship. I promise.”
“Says the girl who just kicked her fiancé out for the night.”
“I know. Isn’t it great? Now we have the whole place to ourselves and we can talk total shit.” She smiles big, then moves to pour us each more wine, but the bottle is empty. “Huh,” she says. “That happened fast. Oh, and shit, we have to get our own wine if Brad isn’t here. Dammit.”
“Don’t move,” I tell her. “I’ll get it.” I stand and climb out of the hot tub. Grateful for the slight chill in the air that I’m hoping will cool my heated emotions. I get another bottle from her wine fridge and return back to the hot tub.
“Rem, the beautiful thing about kicking Brad out tonight, is that he’s coming back. Because we are committed, and he loves me.”
“You know that kicking him out is a little extreme, right?”
“Sure. But it’s not totally like that. I mean, I’ll text him in a few hours and tell him to come back so he can drive your drunk ass home. And so he can fuck my drunk ass until I can’t walk. Then go to sleep. He knows I’m mad. But he also knows I’m not mad. You know?”
“Kat, Chance made a bet!”
“Remi, we made a bet!”
“It’s not the same.”
“We are now talking in circles, woman, and that gets us nowhere.”
“Fine. At least let me be mad for a while.”
“Oh, absofuckinglutely, beautiful girl. For the next few hours, we are pissed as fuck.”
“That’s what I’m talking about,” I say as I take a big gulp of my wine and wash down three gummy heads. “I just, I don’t want to be vulnerable, you know?”
“None of us do,” she says. “It totally sucks ass.”
“So, how do I avoid it?” I ask.
“You don’t,” she says.
“Well, what if I get hurt?”
“You will.”
“Fuck, I don’t want to get hurt.”
“None of us do,” she says. “It totally sucks ass.”
“Wow, where have I heard such words of wisdom before?” I say, narrowing my eyes at her.
She shrugs in response.
“You aren’t exactly selling it here, you know?”
“Selling what?” she asks. “Love? I don’t have to. You’re already in it.”
“In what? Love? Right. Okay. Whatever. Y
ou’re cut off. Clearly you’re drunk.”
“Not drunk yet,” she says in a sing-song voice. “Just calling it like it is. And it’s my wine, I can drink it if I want to.”
“I’m not in love with Chance Bauer, Kat. I barely like the guy. Well, except when we’re having sex, I really like him then. Or when he’s getting me off. I like him then too. And on the back of his motorcycle. That’s hot. Otherwise, I don’t like him at all.” My head spins a little bit. I’m starting to feel the effects of all the alcohol. Wine from dinner, shots at my house, and now wine again combined with the hot water.
“Exactly!” Kat says, sitting up suddenly, sloshing water all over the gummy bears.
“Hey, I was going to eat those,” I say as they wash off the tray and into the tub.
“Oh shit, we have to catch them all, Remi. They’ll clog the filter.”
We fish all the gummy bears from the water, headless and whole, and get out of the tub. Then wrap ourselves in robes and curl up by the outdoor fireplace Brad and Ethan recently built to dry off.
“This fireplace is tits, Kat.”
“We are tits, Remi.”
“We are!”
“I’m drunk,” she says.
“Me too.”
“I do love this fireplace though,” she says with a happy sigh.
“Me too.”
“If I didn’t love Brad, I would totally love Brad just for building me this fireplace.”
“Me too.”
Kat laughs.
“I’m going to be mad at Chance until after my conference,” I say.
“I would be too,” she says. “Conference starts tomorrow, right?”
“Yeah, I’ll drive up mid-day. My presentation is the following day.”
“You feel ready for it?”
I shrug. “As ready as I’ll ever be, I guess.”
“You’ve got this, Rem. I’ve never seen anyone prepare for anything like you’ve prepared for this.”
“That’s why you’re my bestie, ‘cause you think I’m awesome.”
“Straight up,” she says.
“Straight up,” I reply.
Chapter 36
Chance