Thoughtful

by S. C. Stephens

  We stared at each other for long, silent seconds. I wished things were different. I wished our time together had been different. I wished I meant more to her. I wished she loved me, like I loved her. I wished my heart didn’t pound when I stared into her eyes. I wished my lips didn’t ache to press against her skin. But wishing didn’t change anything.

  After another second of silence, Kiera leaned up and kissed my cheek. It burned so much, I felt like she’d struck me. I looked away as waves of pain nearly brought me to my knees. Jesus…please let the torture stop.

  Turning from her, I headed out the door. I needed space. And the ability to shut off my memories. That one tiny display of affection was rewinding every moment Kiera and I had had together. Holding each other, laughing, making her blush, making her happy, making her moan. It was all too much. I pinched the bridge of my nose as I felt a headache building. If I could forget, like she had apparently forgotten, then I wouldn’t be in pain anymore.

  Griffin pulled up, and I walked around to the passenger’s side to get in. I glanced up at the house and spotted Kiera watching me from the window. Why was she watching me? Why did she keep approaching me? Why couldn’t she leave me alone? Why couldn’t I forget about her?

  Shaking away my thoughts, I got in the car. I needed to do something before this grief consumed me.

  Anger seemed my best option. When I was ticked at her, it didn’t hurt as much. And being angry with her was something I was good at. It didn’t take much to stoke the embers in my belly into full-on flames. I would push her away when we were alone together. Make her keep her distance, since she shouldn’t be near me anyway. Then I’d stay as far away from her as I was able to. Anger and avoidance. That was how I’d survive this.

  When she came down for coffee the next morning, I wrapped my fury around me like armor. Let her try to find a crack. I dared her. Leaning back against the counter, I lifted my head and listened to her approach. I could do this. I could shut her out, close down my heart, push away the pain. She was nothing to me, just like I was nothing to her. All of this was nothing.

  When she entered the room, I slid my eyes over to her and half smiled. Mornin’, whore. Denny know about us yet?

  “Hey,” she whispered, clearly not happy with the look in my eye. Well, what the fuck did I care if she was happy?

  “Mornin’,” I answered, staring her down. Like the way I look at you now? You wanted my attention…well, now you have it.

  She grabbed a mug and waited for the pot to finish brewing. Her face was speculative. Was she wondering what to say to me? She could say anything she wanted, I didn’t fucking care. She could tell me to have a nice day, she could tell me to take a flying leap. None of it mattered, and none of it changed the fact that she was a cold-hearted bitch. I hated her so much. Only, I didn’t. I didn’t hate her at all. I didn’t even blame her. I wouldn’t want me either.

  I shoved that nagging thought aside and focused on my ire. Anger made the pain go away. Anger was all I’d let myself feel.

  When the coffee was done, I poured my mug, then held the pot out to her. “Would you like me to fill you?” I asked, meaning it in the crudest way possible. Maybe Denny wasn’t getting the job done. Maybe the whore needed a good fuck this morning. I was just doing my civic duty by offering up my services. That’s all I was good for anyway, right, Kiera? I was a walking, talking vibrator. That was all I’d ever been, that was all I would ever be.

  She seemed confused and uncomfortable with my question. Her eyes were almost solid green this morning. Stunning. The beauty in them only pissed me off even more. Take your incredible eyes and shove them. I don’t need them. Or you.

  “Um…yes,” she said, her mug extended.

  As I filled up her mug, I held in a laugh. I couldn’t believe she actually said yes to that. Guess she did want me to fuck her. “Cream?” I asked suggestively. Want me to come in you again?

  “Yes,” she whispered, swallowing like she was nervous.

  No need to be nervous. We’ve done this before. I’m just your toy anyway. No need to fear a toy. I stepped over to the fridge to get the creamer for her. The creamer I only kept buying because of her. The bitch had infiltrated every aspect of my life. I really fucking hated that.

  Kiera looked like she’d rather be anywhere but near me when I returned with her creamer. I held it up. “Just let me know when you’re satisfied.”

  My eyes were locked on hers while I gave my liquids to her. Want the real stuff? I’ll give you that again too. We’ll just fuck this time. No messy emotions, no misconceptions, no misunderstandings. Just a grade-A fuckapalooza. I have a feeling you’d be really good at that.

  “Stop,” she told me, almost immediately.

  Leaning in close, I whispered, “Are you sure you want me to stop? I thought you liked it.” I thought you liked me, but I was wrong…about so many things.

  She swallowed again and turned away from me. Her hands were shaking as she fumbled with the sugar. I laughed, even though nothing about this was funny.

  I stared at her for a while, building my reserve of anger before I brought up a topic that I didn’t want to talk about, but I needed an answer. I needed to know what to expect. I needed to know what our plan was. Or her plan, since this was her show. I was just her puppet.

  “So you and Denny are…‘back on’?” I asked, clenching my stomach to get through the discomfort of speaking his name.

  Kiera flushed with color. “Yes.”

  I felt like she’d just punched me in the gut. I even had to stop myself from hunching over. The pain started trickling in, and I had to force myself to remember how much I hated her to make it stop. Fucking bitch. “Just like that…No questions asked?”

  She looked freaked out by my question, like she thought I was suddenly going to go run to Denny and tell him everything. Sorry, but I actually care about hurting him, so I’m not going to say a word. I wouldn’t be surprised if you did though. Whore. “Are you going to tell him about…?” I made a crude fucking gesture with my fingers. That was all it was. No point in trying to paint it in a prettier light.

  “No…of course not.” She looked away from me, like I’d offended her. Was truth offensive? Yeah, I supposed sometimes it was. Returning her eyes to mine, she whispered, “Are you?”

  I shrugged. I may have been drunk at the time, but I’d already answered this question, and I’d meant it. I wasn’t going to be the one to hurt Denny. That was her choice. All of this was her choice. “No, I told you I wouldn’t.” Holding tight to my anger, I lied through my teeth. “It doesn’t matter much to me anyway. I was just curious…”

  “Well, no, I’m not…and thank you for not telling him…I guess.” She seemed taken aback by my answer, and my indifference. Why should I care about her, if she didn’t care about me? I was just leveling the playing field. Suddenly, her anger spiked. Her eyes narrowing, she spat out, “What happened to you the other night?”

  Grinning wickedly, like I’d been up to nothing but scandalous debauchery, I grabbed my coffee and took a long draw. What happened to me is none of your business, and if I have anything to say about it, you’ll never know how stressed I was about telling you I loved you, or how hurt I was when you ripped the rug right out from under me. You’ll never know anything real about me. That’s the only way I can punish you now.

  She walked away after that, and I let her. There was nothing left to say anyway.

  Once my coffee was done, I went to my room and hid out. I hated that I was hiding, but I didn’t want to see Kiera any more today. I could still hear her, which was bad enough. I heard her laughing with Denny before disappearing into the bathroom to take a shower. I lay on my bed as I listened to the water running, and images of her naked body rotated through my mind. I hated the play-by-play, and wished I could shut it off. The painful memories of what I could no longer have wouldn’t leave me though. I was stuck in a visual hell of my own creation.

  As soon as I could slip out without e
ither roommate noticing, because I couldn’t handle talking to Denny at the moment either, I left for Evan’s. I even took a few extra things with me, since I didn’t plan on coming home. I just wanted to be away for a while. I wanted to be somewhere where I wouldn’t have to see Denny and wouldn’t have to be alone with Kiera. Being around the guys was a great escape.

  When I showed up at Evan’s with a duffel bag, he raised an eyebrow at me. “Care if I crash here for a couple days?” I asked.

  As I expected, Evan shrugged and said, “No. Can I ask why?”

  I could tell from the glint in his brown eyes that he thought it had something to do with Kiera. It did. Exactly what he’d been worried about had happened. I’d caved. I was a scumbag. But Kiera was a scumbag too, and I didn’t really want to talk about her with him.

  Throwing on a trouble-free smile, I said, “Denny’s back. He was gone a long time, so I thought I’d give the happy couple some breathing room.”

  My voice was a little strained on the words “happy couple,” but Evan didn’t seem to notice. He was too freaking ecstatic that Denny had returned. I know, it’s great news, isn’t it? Now you don’t have to worry about me crossing the line with his girlfriend. Well, sorry to burst your bubble there, Evan, but Denny came back one day too late for that.

  While I managed to avoid my house for the most part, I wasn’t so successful in avoiding the bar. Kiera could run me away from one place, but not both. It was easier to be around her at Pete’s anyway. There was safety in numbers. It didn’t hurt so much to see her when I was surrounded by my bandmates, the bar staff, and dozens of women who would love a turn with me. If only for a night. Since that was all I was good for.

  I used the opportunities at Pete’s to get back at Kiera in small, pathetic ways. It helped fuel my fire to pick on her, and anger was the only thing keeping me going lately. If I lost the anger…I think the pain of losing her, or more accurately, the pain of never having her, would consume me. Like an empty plastic jug tossed on a fire, I’d collapse in on myself, dissolving into nothing. So I stoked my rage to protect my sanity.

  I flirted with Rita at the bar, acting like I was interested in going another round with her. I refused to let Kiera get my drinks for me, and she actually looked offended that I wouldn’t let her serve me. She’d served me enough. I engaged Griffin in his sordid stories, stories that might or might not have even been true. Griffin loved getting graphic about them though. I knew Kiera hated hearing it, so I made sure she had no choice but to listen. I even dragged her into the conversations whenever I could.

  She flushed with color almost every time she approached our table. Griffin loved embarrassing her, so the two of us had a great time, but I heard about it from Evan later at his loft. “Why are you picking on Kiera so much?”

  Ice flashed through my veins as I looked over at him. I was lying on the couch, getting ready to go to bed; he was in his “room,” reading. “I’m not picking on her.”

  Evan closed his book and sat up on his bed. I mentally cringed. I didn’t want to have this conversation, not with him. “Yeah, you are. You’re being a jackass. Why? Why are you really here, Kellan?”

  I sighed in my head. I’d have to go home tomorrow, just so Evan wouldn’t get suspicious. I tossed my arms out to the sides. “I’m not doing anything. I was just having a bit of fun with Griffin. I was more picking on him than anything. He’s an idiot, and ninety percent of those stories are pure crap.”

  Evan laughed. “Yeah, that’s true. I don’t think Kiera realizes that though, so maybe you should ease up around her.”

  I gave him a bright smile as I laid my arm over my eyes. “Yeah, sure. I wasn’t trying to make her uncomfortable or anything.” Just miserable. Like me.

  The next morning, I headed back home. As long as Kiera and I didn’t look at, speak to, or get anywhere near each other, being home should be just like being at Evan’s. This would be fine. Just fine.

  I opened my front door and froze. Denny and Kiera were awake. They were practically going at it on my couch. While I once found that amusing, it wasn’t so funny anymore. Pain leached up from my stomach, but I pushed it back. She was a fucking whore who’d used me and I hated her. And I missed her.

  Kiera and I locked gazes. She was sitting on Denny’s lap, her fingers in his hair. I remembered her fingers being in mine, and hate flowed through me. Damn her for hurting me. As I smirked at the skank, Denny finally noticed me. I quickly shifted my expression into an amiable smile. “Mornin’.”

  “You just gettin’ home, mate?”

  Denny started stroking her thighs. It reminded me of her legs wrapped around me. God, that had felt so good. She’d felt so good. But what we’d shared wasn’t real. It had only been a release to her. Fucking bitch.

  Only looking at Denny, I replied, “Yeah, I was…out.” I shifted my gaze to Kiera on the word “out.” Take that any way you want to. I don’t care.

  Kiera seemed uncomfortable and scooted off Denny’s lap. He laughed as he put an arm around her. My stomach twisted as I watched them cuddling. They looked so fucking happy together, but it was just as big of a lie as the two of us had been. Denny wanted his old job back, and Kiera…well, who the fuck knew what she wanted.

  “See you guys later,” I muttered as I ambled up the stairs and into my room. I shut the door and lay down on my bed. My anger was only increasing with each breath I took, but I welcomed the heat. The heat kept away the pain.

  Denny was at the bar when I strolled in that night. If we didn’t have to play later, I would have strolled right back out; being around him was painful. Being around him and Kiera together was agony.

  Like I was still drawn to her, even though it was pointless and futile, my eyes locked onto Kiera. She had her hair pulled up, exposing her slim neck. Her Pete’s shirt was tight to her body, and she wore these tiny black shorts that showed all of her lean legs. How good she looked was torturous.

  Her full lips were parted, and if I didn’t know any better, I’d swear she was holding her breath, like just seeing me affected her. But I knew it didn’t. I was nothing to her. She flicked a glance over to Denny, like she didn’t want to be caught staring at me. I looked too, but Denny was greeting the band and not paying any attention to us. Knowing he was going to sit at the table all night, further making my life a living hell, I walked over to Kiera. If tonight was going to be half as awkward as I thought it would be, I might as well be half-cocked for it.

  When Kiera noticed me approaching her, she seemed uneasy, like she sort of wanted to run. I didn’t entirely blame her for that. I hadn’t exactly been nice lately. Well, I could be nice now, since Denny was watching. I could be cordial, but I wouldn’t be friendly. That, I couldn’t do anymore.

  “Kiera,” I stated dispassionately, as if I’d read her name from her nametag.

  “Yes, Kellan.” Her tone was guarded, and she seemed to be making herself look at me.

  Liking that I made her uneasy, I smiled. “We’ll have the usual. Bring one for Denny too…since he’s a part of this.” The largest part. Much bigger than me, that’s for sure.

  Some girls decided to cuddle with me before the show, and I let them. In fact, I lost myself in their feminine attention. It was better than watching Kiera and Denny make googly eyes at each other. Needing the distraction from my pain, from my guilt, I mercilessly flirted with the girls; I didn’t even look Denny’s way.

  When it was time for the band to go onstage, a sneer was on my lips. I couldn’t contain my satisfaction. I’d changed the lineup so that we were playing every I hate you, you suck song we had in our arsenal. I needed to vent, and I was going to do it through music to help prevent me from doing it with my mouth.

  I knew the second Kiera understood that my set list was about her, in feeling, if not by the lyrics. The one we were currently playing was one fans often misinterpreted as being about one-night stands. It wasn’t, but I played it up that way, so Kiera would think it was. Yes, it’s about meaning
less sex. And yes, Kiera, I’m dedicating it to you, and the meaningless sex we shared. As I sang, I flirted the hell out of the audience. Too sexual? You haven’t seen anything yet, Kiera.

  Kiera gaped at me, and I swear her eyes misted over. It hurt me some to see her in pain, but I pulled my anger tighter around me and trudged onward. She was just upset because I was calling her out, not because she cared. She’d never cared. It had all been a lie.

  The next morning, I felt a little better. Sure, I was being a dick, but being an asshole was better than brooding or curling up into a fetal position because some bitch had devastated me. Fuck that. I’d survived worse.

  I was reading the paper and drinking my coffee at the table when Kiera stepped into the kitchen. She looked nervous yet irritated when I glanced up at her. I watched as she closed her eyes and took a deep, calming breath. I thought she might say something to me about my performance last night, but instead, she made a cup of coffee. Liquid courage perhaps?

  By the time she sat at the table, I was invested in my paper, or at least, I pretended to be invested. I’d read the same paragraph three times. I considered ignoring Kiera, but purposely not speaking to her would imply that I cared. And I didn’t. We were nothing, and that was fine. Just fine.

  “Mornin’,” I said, not bothering to look up.

  “Kellan…”

  I looked up at her. What, Kiera? What more could you possibly want from me? Because I’ve got nothing left for you.

  “What?” I snapped.

  Avoiding eye contact, she whispered, “Why are you mad at me?”

  What? Did she really not get what she’d done to me? How she’d treated me like meat, just like every other girl I’d been with? That, until that moment, I’d thought we were different? I’d thought I loved her. No…I did love her. I do love her. But I needed to hate her right now, so I had to push all that aside.

  “I’m not mad at you, Kiera. I’ve been exceedingly nice to you.” Even though she wasn’t looking at me, I gave her a snide smile. “Most women thank me for that.” And write me off, just like you did.