One Week Hating You

by Roya Carmen

  Why is that? Why can’t the good boys be as good in bed? Peter has always been an okay lover. I never realized he was just okay, until I had a taste of Blake. But what’s so great about amazing sex? There’s a lot more to life than amazing sex. Stability, loyalty, commitment, and knowing your heart won’t be played with and broken at every turn.

  I suppose even good boys can break your heart. Peter surely did when he left me at the church.

  How am I supposed to go back to him after what I’ve just lived with Blake? I’ll remember that shed for the rest of my life.

  Does Blake care more than he lets on? He seemed really hurt by the fact that I just wanted sex, that this meant nothing more to me. I play a good game, but he must know that I’m full of it. Of course, it’s not just sex, of course it means more. He knows me. He knows how I’m wired. He should know that. I’ve been trying so hard to pretend I don’t care, I guess I’ve succeeded.

  I just had to make it up to him. Up until the Inn, we’d only fucked, and that’s how I wanted it. I’m not sure if it was a mistake to take it farther. If I thought the sex was great, I hadn’t been prepared for the lovemaking. Oh my… His mouth, his touch exploring every inch of my body. My tongue on his sweet salty skin, my hands on the hard curves of him. Hours lost in each other on the bed, in the bath, bringing each other to the edge. Sharing thoughts, memories, and everything in us. Opening each other, bare and raw.

  Despite trying to be so careful, I’ve fallen even deeper.

  Yes, this can only be sex for so many reasons. Because we live hours apart, because we have too much history, because it’s me and him; we’re like oil and vinegar. I honestly don’t know how I’ll go on and manage not to think of him every single minute. Not long ago, I was consumed with anger and heartbreak, and thoughts of Peter. Now I’m full of lust and want and longing for Blake.

  He was honestly just what I needed, a wonderful, sexy distraction. A Band-Aid on my heartbreak. The problem is, now the Band-Aid has fallen off, and I feel exposed. I’m an open sore. It will take everything in my power not to call him up for a booty call. Thank god he lives hours away. If he were closer, I’d be in trouble. I’d want my fix, and I’d want it now.

  Delicious, addictive and unforgettable – that’s what Blake Taylor is. And always will be.

  Later, Journal.

  M

  I know I won’t get a wink of sleep tonight. I can’t believe this is my last night here. I smile at the thought of Blake when I left him. The little troublemaker stole my panties. I begged but he wouldn’t give them back. He said he wanted a souvenir, said he would never wash them. He told me he’d sniff them every day.

  Kind of creepy, but also hot!

  And funny. That’s Blake for you.

  He pulled at my curl again, probably just to annoy me. “God, I’ll miss you,”

  I was a blubbering mess by then. “Me too.”

  He held me in his arms for the longest time, and then he kissed me on the forehead, just like he used to when we were small. My heart ached so much when I had to finally tear myself away. He told me this was goodbye, that he wouldn’t see me off in the morning, and that he had to be at the store.

  Now I’m literally sobbing in my pillow, already missing him.

  Momma is already crying and I haven’t even stepped out of the house yet. “You sure you have everything?” she asks.

  “Yes, Momma.”

  “All those fancy shoes you brought?”

  I smile down at her. “It was three pairs, plus the ones I bought.”

  She laughs. “That’s more than I have.”

  Maddie is in tears too but not necessarily because I’m leaving. “You and uncle Blake are not in love?” she asks again. “You’re not going to get married and have babies?” she pouts. Marilyn stifles a smile, she finds all this funny. I, like Maddie, think it’s heartbreaking. I kneel down to her. “Sometimes, boys and girls really like each other, but they’re not meant to be together,” I try to explain.

  A scowl traces her brow. “Are you going to marry that Peter guy?” she asks, clearly not a fan of his.

  “I don’t know,” I tell her truthfully. “It’s hard to tell what the future holds.”

  “Bye,” she says and squeezes in for hug.

  I hold her tightly. “I’ll miss you, sweetie.”

  After a long while, Marilyn intervenes. “Okay, Maddie. Auntie Maeve needs to go.” Maddie reluctantly untangles herself from my arms. Marilyn steps in and gives her a quick hug. “I’ll be back later today,” she tells her.

  “Thanks for driving me,” I offer. She’s been kind enough to offer me a ride since Corrie borrowed my car.

  She smiles. “Not a problem.”

  I reach for Momma, and hold her tightly. “I love you, Momma.”

  She slobbers all over my white blouse but I don’t mind. “Me too.” She tears herself from my grasp and quickly runs to the kitchen. She comes right back with a tin. “Don’t forget your cookies. You’re too skinny.”

  I shake my head. “You always say that. Marilyn is skinnier than me.”

  “Oh, don’t get me started about Marilyn, and all that running around she does.” She sighs. “You promise you’ll visit again soon?”

  She says that every time I leave, and every time, I say “yes,” but I usually end up breaking my promise. Not this time. This time I mean it. “Yes,” I say and give her another long hug.

  She insists on helping with my suitcase, and between the two of us, we manage to lug it out and throw it in the back of Marilyn’s car. Another tearful hug follows, and then I’m in the car, waving goodbye, and holding in my tears until I’ve driven away. I’m going to miss her. I shoot one last glance at Blake’s house as I wind down the drive.

  I’m going to miss him too.

  * * *

  The drive back home is filled with thoughts of my family, of Mandy and Blake, but mostly Blake. I think about the times we’ve shared, past and present, the feel of his touch, the taste of his skin. I revel in the memories of the feel of his soft hair between my fingers, his sweet tongue dancing around mine, and the sensation of him inside me.

  When I finally park the car in the lot of my condominium building, I can hardly remember the drive. All the beautiful scenery that I usually appreciate, was lost on me this time.

  Too much on my mind.

  Part III

  31

  AS USUAL, I’M THE FIRST ONE HERE. It’s only been about ten days since I was last here, but it seems like ages ago. So much has happened this past week.

  This place is one of my favorite spots in the world. I love all the books on the shelves, the smell of coffee and homemade muffins and the cozy fireplace. I also love it because this is where I meet my friends; women I can share anything with, women who get me.

  I’ve already ordered my chai latte; a pretty leaf design floats on top. It’s almost a shame to press my lips to the cup and destroy it. The doorbell clangs and Gabbie makes her grand entrance. Dressed in a pretty red blouse, skinny ripped jeans and tall boots, she looks amazing, curves in all the right places.

  Ever since she’s hooked up with her new guy, she seems more confident, and I love that. She never did realize just how beautiful and amazing she is, until the day he walked into her life.

  “How are you?” she asks as she gives me a hug. “How was your trip back home?”

  Blake comes to mind. Actually he was already there. He’s always there, like a permanent fixture; a shiny leather sofa in the living room of my mind. He owns the space.

  “It was great,” I tell her as we both sit down at our usual table, not too far from the fireplace, with a great view of people coming in and out. “I got to see all my family, and spend some time with my mom.”

  She smiles. “That’s great. You’re very lucky to have her.”

  Gabbie lost her mother a few years back in a tragic car accident. Every time I think about it, my heart aches for her. She’s right – I’m very lucky to have Momma. I
haven’t been thankful enough. I resolve to call her every week from here on, twice a week.

  Gabbie leaves me to go order a coffee at the counter. I’m left to ponder this quaint little spot and my life in Burlington. It’s a good life, very different than the one I’ve lived this past week, in my hometown. Different, but not necessarily better. I used to think it was so superior, but my way of thinking has changed. Who knows? Perhaps it was Peter’s influence. He’s always making fun of my hometown.

  Gabbie hangs her oversized purse on the back of her chair. I know exactly what it holds; a red notebook, a few pens, her phone, and iPad, wipes, and her trademark red lipstick. “So tell me all about your trip.”

  I’m just about to tell her all about my family and the camping trip when the door clangs again – it’s Kayla. Her smile is as infectious as I remember. She radiates health every time I see her. She’s wearing a long bohemian dress topped with a worn black biker jacket and old brown riding boots. Her wrists are covered with eclectic bracelets, and she makes it all work because she’s such a classic beauty.

  I stand to hug her and she squeezes me a little too tightly. “I’ve heard things about you, Maeve,” she teases.

  I laugh. “Let me guess… you’ve been talking to Corrie.”

  She settles at the table and there’s only one empty seat now – Corrie’s seat. “Yes, we were chatting yesterday and she had quite a lot to say about you.”

  I shake my head. “That doesn’t surprise me at all.”

  Gabbie’s eyes are wide. “What? What happened?”

  I smile at her. “Just you wait… I’m sure Corrie will fill you in when she gets here.”

  “Well, I’m going to grab myself a cup of tea and those delicious cookies I like,” Kayla tells us. “I’ll be right back.”

  “Corrie has some juicy gossip, doesn’t she?” Gabbie teases.

  I smile. “Did I tell you how amazing you look?” I say in an attempt to change the subject. “You’re practically glowing.”

  She beams, quiet, as she can sometimes be. She really is glowing. I guess that’s what love does to you.

  “You look really good too,” she says. “You’ve gotten some sun… your freckles are out.”

  I laugh. “Yes, they keep escaping. I try to rein them in with some concealer but they’re pretty rebellious.”

  She grins. “You should let them out… they’re fantastic. They make you unique.”

  The door clangs again, and everyone turns in Corrie’s direction as she swoops in. “Girls!” she cheers. She’s small but hard to miss. She swings by the counter. “The usual,” she says to Jessie, the barista. She’s holding a purple box – it looks like a cake box. I suddenly get very excited.

  She sets the box down smack in the middle of our table. “Check this out,” she says as she opens up the box. “I just picked it up.”

  It’s a cake all right, but nothing we could eat. It’s a cake in the shape of a dog bone, for her babies; her two Pomeranians. “It’s their birthday today!” she tells us. “With all that’s been going on, I almost forgot.”

  “How is Jacob?” Gabbie asks.

  She closes the box lid. “He’s good. It’s going to be a long road ahead, but he’ll be just fine. You know Jacob.” She turns to me. “But let’s not talk about boring old Jacob,” she quips. “I want to talk about Maeve and Blake.”

  I bury my face in my hands. There really is no escaping this. I knew it was coming. Corrie is such a gossip monger. She cocks a brow. “So you and Blake…” she teases. “Tell us everything.”

  The barista sets down Corrie’s coffee and lingers a bit, curious.

  “Thank you,” Corrie says in a way that says, Get out of here, this is none of your business, girl. Jessie hurries off.

  “Did I tell you guys how hot this guy is,” she adds. “Okay, tell us everything.”

  I hesitate for a second or two, but I know Corrie, and I know I’m not getting out of this. “Well, you know, we did it… a few times,” I say. “That’s all you need to know.”

  “Ooooh,” Corrie coos. “A few times.”

  Kayla and Gabbie both smile widely, completely amused. It wasn’t too long ago when it was Gabbie sitting here in my seat, under Corrie’s probing gaze, powerless in the face of her insatiable curiosity.

  “So first, there was the quick lay on the freezer,” she starts. “How did that go about? We’re you facing him, or was it down and dirty, from behind?”

  Kayla and Gabbie both shake their heads, but neither of them object. They want the sordid details too.

  I blush as I recall that first time, my first time with Blake. “We were in the storage room at his store—”

  “He owns a store?” Gabbie asks.

  Corrie scowls at her. “Yes, who cares? Stop interrupting, Gabs.”

  I smile. “Anyway, we’re surrounded by extra inventory; cases of drinks, shampoo, gum… everything. It’s dark and tight in there,” I whisper and check to make sure no one else is listening, but thankfully, it’s just us in here. “And he’s right up against me, and I really want it so bad…” I can’t go on. I just can’t.

  “Go on,” Corrie pleads. “Don’t leave us hanging.”

  “Well, he touches me…” I don’t want to say more. I figure they all know what I’m saying.

  But Corrie will have none of that. “What do you mean, ‘he touches you’?”

  My eyes grow wide. “You know…”

  “Oh, so he sticks his fingers in your pussy?” she says a little too loudly.

  I shake my head, mortified. “Yes…” I whisper. “Anyway, I’m going crazy, but then… he just leaves me there, hanging.”

  Dropped jaws all around.

  “What an ass,” Corrie says.

  “So now I’m angry, and I can’t stand it.”

  “And horny as shit, I bet,” Corrie chimes in. Oh, how I love Corrie’s little observations and quips.

  I laugh. “Yes, horny as shit,” I admit. “So I buy condoms. They’re right there behind me in the store. I text him to get his ass back over here, like yesterday.”

  “You go girl,” Kayla cheers. “I didn’t think you had that in you.”

  “Well, long story short–” I start again.

  “No, no. Not ‘long story short’… we want the long version,” Corrie chimes in. “All the juicy details.”

  I roll my eyes. “You know, there is such a thing as porn, Corrie. If you’re that hard up.”

  Gabbie and Kayla laugh, and Corrie scowls. “Go on,” she says.

  “Well, basically I get him in the storage room and try to seduce him by taking off my panties.”

  “Does it work?” Gabbie asks.

  “Oh yeah,” I say, getting lost in the memory for a moment. “He spins me around and bends me over the old freezer. He still has a hand on the door because my mom is out there at the register.”

  Corrie is practically swooning. “That is so hot.”

  Gabbie looks shocked. “Your mom was outside?”

  I nod. “I know, crazy right?”

  Kayla seems a little confused. “So this guy is your high school flame right?” she asks. “The one who broke your heart, the one who drove you out of town?”

  I nod. I know. I shouldn’t be sleeping with him.

  “Yeah, who cares,” Corrie pipes in. “Tell us about the other times.”

  I laugh. “Well, we got a little frisky on my backyard swing. And we also spent the night in a romantic Inn.”

  “Wow, sounds pretty serious,” Corrie says.

  “It was nice. Sex in a comfy old-fashioned bed is underrated.”

  Gabbie smiles. “Yes, nothing beats a bed.”

  “And then, we were together one last time in the shed in his backyard,” I tell them, “and that’s all I plan to say on the topic, girls.”

  “Ooooh… a filthy shed,” Corrie says. “That Blake is a dirty boy… I love it.”

  I can’t help but smile.

  “Did he take you on top of
the lawnmower?” she teases.

  “Against the door, actually,” I tell her. “But no more. I’m not saying anymore.”

  She pouts like a five-year old. “You’re cruel.”

  “Yep, so did you guys see the pics on my Facebook?” I ask, wanting to change the subject.

  They all grin and nod. “I bet Peter is going crazy with jealousy and out of his mind,” Corrie says.

  I take a sip of my latte. “Oh, he is. He was messaging me all week, and I kept ignoring him. So he finally shows up at Momma’s house, begging.”

  “I fucking love it,” Corrie says. “We really got the little fucker. I bet he regrets dumping you now.”

  “He wants to start over.”

  “Does he, now,” Corrie says, her words drenched in sarcasm. “Well…”

  We all fall into silence. I get the feeling that they all have opinions on the matter, but are reluctant to pry in my business.

  “I’m really confused right now,” I confess. “I would love to hear your thoughts. Your honest thoughts…”

  Corrie clears her throat. “Well, you know I don’t really like Peter right now, because of what he did to you, but I used to always think he was an okay guy.”

  I’m kind of shocked by Corrie’s words. I can’t count the times she’s called Peter a ‘little fucker’ these past weeks.

  “So he fucked up. It was one day, and you guys have been together forever,” she goes on. “I’m not sure you should just throw that away.”

  We all stare at her, jaws hanging.

  “He’s not a player, or an alcoholic. He has a good job. He has money, and he can be a good provider. He’s the kind of guy who’d probably be a good dad too. You could do worse.”

  Honestly, we’re not completely shocked by Corrie’s words. She’s always prioritized money; a nice home, car, designer clothes. To her, Peter is probably a catch.

  “But is that what she wants right now?” Gabbie chimes in, playing the devil’s advocate. “A house and fancy stuff?”