Love You...Never

by Francesca Penn

  I never got the chance because he was saying everything I feared he would say to me to some supermodel look-alike. No buts, Jessie…sex is all I am capable of giving…I don’t kiss women I don’t love… I chose not to kiss you.

  My heart was breaking. He didn’t want to kiss me, either. I knew he had these strict rules about love, but I was certain there was something more between us. I was wrong. I know he was talking to her, but it felt like he was talking to me. Isn’t that what I was doing? Didn’t I just show up to his office hoping to get him to change his mind about us, as well? Any hope I had was crushed when he saw me. His demeanor was the coldest I’ve ever encountered. It hurt when he didn’t refute my statement. It crushed me when he closed his door in my face.

  “Oh, look! There’s Connor and Amy!”

  Cher’s tone is cheerier than usual. She is trying to be happy enough for both of us since she knows the truth. I’m dying on the inside.

  The fashion show is a success, and the lingerie is selling like crazy, but it doesn’t help my mood. Emiliano has dismissed me so thoroughly that he hasn’t attended despite his boss and friends’ presence. Hell, even Loli came and thanked me for my pieces.

  “Go hang out with them. I’m out.”

  “What? No, Caris…”

  I look Cher in the eyes. The hurt I’ve been trying to conceal radiates off my body. I’m done. Everything about this night (the lingerie, the banners, my logo, sex, and love) reminds me of Emiliano. Cher’s eyes soften; she nods sadly.

  “Okay, friend. You’ve met all the obligations. I’ll take it from here.” She pulls me into a hug. “I’ll check on you in the morning.”

  I say goodbye to the important people as I leave the venue. Normally, I would stay through the entire party and try to go out for an after party; not tonight. Tonight, I’m going home and stare into space while I try to pinpoint the exact moment I’d done something horrible enough to deserve this kind of Karma.

  I hear music bumping, a gaggle of people’s conversations, and laughter. Intrigued, I wander over to the source of the commotion.

  “Hotspot,” I read aloud.

  Correction: I will go home after I get a drink – or five. Resolved, I swing the door open, flash my ID to the bouncer, and navigate my way to the bar. I nab a seat, close my eyes, and exhale deeply.

  “You look like you need my drink of the week. It’s the heartbreak special. I call it Fuck Valentine’s Day.”

  My eyes pop open and collide with sexy hazel ones framed by thick lashes on an incredibly handsome face. His brown waves are combed out of his face giving me an unobstructed view of his chiseled features.

  “Damn. Is looking like you a requirement to work here?” I look around. “Is this place like Hooters for women?”

  His slightly pouty lips curve into a smile. “You just made my night. One drink for you on the house.” He puts about as much alcohol as a Long Island Ice Tea, but it’s red. “It’s sweet but strong. It’s a double like my friend likes to order even though she doesn’t drink much.”

  “Well, thank you, uh…”

  “Jason,” he supplies.

  “Jason. I’m Caris by the way,” I tell him with a handshake. “You’re not going to get in trouble giving out free drinks, are you?”

  Jason chuckled. “I have it on good authority that the boss loves me the most.”

  “Which means you’re the boss.”

  “Ding. Ding. Ding!” he confirms before spreading his muscular arms. “I do what the fuck I want.” We laugh for a bit. His smile is mesmerizing. If I weren’t so hung up on Emiliano, I’d tell him to do me.

  I sober and take a big drink. It’s sweet with a kick. The liquor burns my throat on the way down.

  “What idiot let you go?” The question makes me slump on the bar with my head on my forearm. I groan and peek up at him. He’s still there. I park my elbow on the bar and rest my cheek on my open palm.

  “Is it that obvious? Do I have ‘rejected’ stamped in bold red letters on my forehead?”

  Jason gives me a sad smile. “No. I’m trained to recognize the look.”

  “It’s a loooooong story. It started at least twelve years ago.”

  “It appears I have nothing to do.”

  I look around at the crowd of people laughing, drinking, and eating. Servers whiz around while the other bartenders rush to make drinks.

  “Um…aren’t you working?”

  Jason blows a raspberry and waves off the bar. “It’s a well-oiled machine.” He leans in closer, teasing me with his pleasing scent. “I’m only here because I have nothing better to do.”

  He looks at his watch like he just remembered something. “In fact, finish your drink. You’re coming with me.”

  “According to Lifetime movies, I’m not supposed to wander off with a random guy who just gave me liquor.”

  Jason guffaws before responding. “Good point, but you’re safe with me. We’re literally going across the street. I have a dinner reservation that I was going to ignore, but why not give me your tale of woe over crazy expensive steak?”

  It’s possibly the drink talking, but his idea sounds like a solid one. I hadn’t eaten at my release party after all.

  “Okay…if I walk over there now, you’re not going to stand me up?”

  Jason pulls off his bartender apron and hangs it behind the counter. “Hell, no.”

  Chapter 24

  Emiliano

  I’m furious. No. I’m beyond furious. I would need to go for a run and do some yoga to simmer down to furious. I don’t know him, don’t care to know him, and will never know him because I’m going to kill him. I put down my fork, stare at it, and then pick it up again. A fork can double as a weapon. A hand settles over my wrist before I can rise. I stare at it for a moment wondering how it got there. A few beats pass, and some of the red haze clears. That’s right. I’m having dinner with Remy and Carlee.

  Remy's hand taps me in a placating manner. “I know that look. I’ve worn it before.” My eyes meet his green ones before he continues. “Fun fact? It was the same damn guy for the same reason.”

  “Huh?” I’m too busy trying to steady my heart rate to understand him fully.

  “Men,” Carlee scoffs. “Y’all are so extra. Jason is harmless. He knows when a girl is on the market and acts accordingly. The moment a woman sets a boundary, he follows it. I should be the one who’s mad. He’s over there trying to collect a new black girl bestie.”

  “Bestie?” I ask slowly.

  “Yes, do you see how they are taking shots and laughing? Jason would not do that with a girl he’s trying to get naked. He has an issue with using his craft for his benefit.”

  “What’s his craft?”

  “He owns the bar across the street. Plus, you need a reservation to get in this place. He’s been had it. The fact that Caris is with him is one of those random coincidences of the universe because as of this afternoon, he was going to ignore the reservation.”

  “I will say he has been through some changes lately that have severely dampened his man-whore status,” Remy points out before he sips his water. “We’ve become friends since he and Carlee seem to be attached to the hip.”

  I miss half of Remy’s statement because Jason is rubbing Caris’ arm. I scrub my hand over my face and force my eyes back to my companions. I’d shown up to Caris’ release party late because I find it difficult to stay away from her. I planned to watch her from afar then leave. She was already gone when I arrived. I’d run into Carlee and Remy on the way out, and they’d insisted I join them for dinner to catch up.

  When Caris arrived, I’d thought it was a setup, but she didn’t look around like a person who’s late joining a party. Then Jason showed up and ushered her to his table. I chewed the inside of my cheek at the sight of her. She’d straightened her hair; it flowed freely around her shoulders. The side-part gave her a flirty bang that hung over her eye when she looked up. Her red long-sleeve, skin-tight sweater dress hugged every curve
I’d ever touched and tasted. I was too stunned to move. It hadn’t been a week!

  My brain only knows one word now. Mine. It’s been chanting it since she arrived with Mr. Grabby. Every time he touches her, the word returns. Mine. Mine. Mine.

  “So, you’re suggesting that I should sit here and let her continue her date with Mr. Grabby.”

  Remy laughs at my nickname for him. “I used to call him Mr. Orgasms since he offered Carlee orgasms when they met.”

  My eyebrows visit my hairline. “And now you two are best friends?”

  Carlee shrugs. “Pretty much.” She puts her fork down and studies me. “The real question is, what are you going to do about your obvious feelings for Caris? She wouldn’t be over there with Jason if it were all good in the hood. What gives?”

  I give them the Cliff Notes version of the story. Remy focuses as if there will be an actual pop quiz afterward. “Okay, so you sent her a note in high school professing your love for her, and she said you were being an asshole? It doesn’t make sense. Maybe something got mixed up. Maybe she got the wrong note.”

  “I have an idea. How about you verbally tell her what you wrote. It could clear up some things. Saying ‘I love you’ goes a long way.”

  “I just don’t want her to throw my love back in my face again.”

  “I can understand that. When I realized I love Carlee, it was scary as hell. I feared it would freak her out knowing I’d fallen so fast. I’d soon found out it was worse not having her at all.”

  “I’ve tried. I’ve confessed already.”

  “Do it right this time!” Carlee exclaimed. “You did it the teenaged way in high school. Do it the man way now. Grab her, look her in the eyes, and tell her how you feel. I agree with Remy. Something got lost in translation. Clear it up fast. We lost months together behind bullshit.”

  Remy grabs Carlee’s hand and squeezes it. “We’re together now.” He signals for the server. “We should go. Looks like we’re on friend duty tonight.”

  “What do you mean?” I inquire.

  “While we were talking, Caris and Jason stumbled out of here visibly drunk. We need to split up and get them home safely.”

  Emiliano

  Hotspot is a nice bar. I’d consider coming here if I didn’t hate the owner. I charge in with Remy and Carlee in tow hoping this is where they went. I scan the crowd until I find her taking yet another shot with him in front of the stage. Jason takes her hand and leads her on stage.

  “Ohhh! They’re about to do karaoke! Fun!”

  I’m glad she thinks so; I still want to kill him.

  “Hello, everyone!” He wraps his arms around Caris’ shoulders. “My girl, Caris, is gonna kick off karaoke with me. Are you ready?”

  The crowd whoops and hold their drinks in the air. The music starts the play. It sounds familiar, but I can’t place it immediately. Then it clicks when Jason starts singing. “Si Una Vez” in English? I look up at the screen. Some sentences are pink, and the others are blue. A duet?

  Both sing the words like it’s their personal anthem. It is an interesting song choice since the song is about the regret of giving all your love to someone who doesn’t appreciate it. Hell, I should be up there with them. At least I can do the song in its intended language. Some of the choruses are still in Spanish, and they butcher them as I expect. Caris abandons the Spanish and sings it in English. They dance drunkenly on the stage, sometimes getting too close and causing microphone feedback.

  I pull my eyes away from the stage and take in my surroundings. Carlee is waving her hand and singing along like she’s at a concert, and Remy just holds her from behind. This is some bullshit. I’ve gone from the third wheel to the fifth. I would leave, but my conscience does not allow me to leave the woman I still love drunk and vulnerable.

  I snap my head back to the stage. Wait! They added a rap to this song? What’s really going on? I make a note to listen to the studio version later. Caris rubs her abdomen when the song mentions starting a family. My chest constricts. I want a family with her so bad I mourn all the sperm I’ve lost outside of Caris. This doesn’t work for me. Fuck high school and fuck that note. I need to get my woman once and for all.

  Chapter 25

  Emiliano

  “Let’s go,” I demand despite Carlee’s advice to act natural. I’ve been itching to get her away from Jason from the moment I saw them together. I’ve already sent Cher a text to let her know I am collecting her drunk bestie and taking her home.

  Caris looks at the shot glass she’s just emptied then back to me – I would laugh under different circumstances – her drunk eyes shifting to Jason.

  “Jason?” she whispers drunkenly. “Do you see a big Mexican man to your right?”

  Jason blinks up at me. “Yes, unless we’re having the same hallucination.”

  Carlee grabs Jason’s arm. He checks with Caris the way she’s just checked with him. Once he confirms that Carlee isn’t a figment of his imagination, he sighs his relief then hugs her.

  “Caris, sweetheart. That’s our cue to cut it off. It’s time for us to sleep it off.” He rubs her shoulder and arm. I want to break his hand.

  Once outside, we bid our farewells and move in opposite directions. I grab Caris’ hand to keep her close as I weave through random small crowds littering the walkway. It feels good to touch her; I wish it were under different circumstances. I open the passenger side door for her. Caris stands next to the open door staring up at me.

  “What?”

  “My car is here. I think.”

  “And you’re too drunk to drive. I’ll bring you back for it tomorrow.”

  She lifts her chin defiantly. “I am not.” She sways with her statement and steadies herself with a palm to my chest. Her hand lingers. I watch as Caris’ drunken gaze heats up to something sinister. “Okay,” she concedes far too easily. I hold her hand, steadying her as she climbs into my SUV.

  I take a steadying breath as I move to my side. I will not take advantage of her drunken state. I must remind myself that when she rests a hand on my thigh once I’m buckled into the driver’s seat. I get hot memories from the last time she was a passenger in my vehicle. I move her hand with a groan. She pouts and passes me her phone.

  “At least play some music I want to hear,” she demands like a brat.

  I sync her phone to my Bluetooth. Pulling up her music app, I search for something that won’t murder my ears. I go to her playlists and scroll through the options: Recently Added, AM Drive, Emiliano. I pause then scroll back up. She has a playlist named after me? I look at Caris; her eyes are closed, and she’s rubbing her temples. I’ll ask about it later. I tap my name and hit shuffle.

  I smile when Missy Elliott’s “Pussycat” starts bumping in my speakers. Maybe I should tell her that her mission was successful a long, long time ago. She was all I wanted before I’d laid a finger on her. Now that I’ve had her, I can’t imagine having someone else. I stop at a red light and glance at her. Caris’ eyes are closed, but she’s mouthing the words to the song. I enter the freeway just as Missy fades out and Jodeci’s “Freek’n You” starts. A small chuckle escapes my lips. If nothing else, she’s really into having sex with me.

  I ignore the punch of arousal I feel from seeing her grind in her seat to the music. Her dress has ridden up her thighs some; I want to nibble on her. I’m going to pass out if the next song is sexual. The music killing my good guy mission. I sigh my relief when “Girls Like You” floats in next. I relish the smooth nonsexual beat and focus on getting her home. I can’t say I’ve paid attention to the lyrics before. I choose not to try in case there’s a sexual undertone I’ve somehow missed. I make a mental note to check it out later and see how it applies to me, but Caris turns her head and sings the breakdown where he sings ‘maybe’ a lot. She is drunk, and I am driving, but I’m sure it means something else in the song.

  “How You Remind Me” gives me pause because I feel the lyrics in a way I didn’t know I would. Here we are g
oing back and forth, and I keep hurting myself in the process. It’s like I keep running into a glass wall that I forget is there every time. I skip the song halfway into it. I can’t be emotional right now.

  I sway to the beat of “When Doves Cry” but when Caris sings it to me, I realize that this song is far more emotional than I’ve thought. I ask myself the same questions. Why are we arguing? I skip again. “Sorry” by Justin Bieber is next. I sigh and let it play as I take my exit. Caris is singing it, and I force myself to pay attention to the lyrics. Does she want me to be sorry or is she sorry? I’m so deep in thought that I don’t realize Caris is asleep until I pull into my driveway.

  I obviously have things I need to analyze. I pull up the list again, take a few screenshots, and send it to myself. I forward it to Amy since I don’t speak woman.

  Emiliano: Caris has a playlist named after me. Here are the songs.

  Amy: *Shocked Eyes Emoji*

  Emiliano: What does it mean?

  Amy: Listen to the last two songs in order. That should sum it up.

  Emiliano: Okay

  After unlocking the door and placing her items on the table in the foyer, I return to my vehicle for Caris. I undo her seatbelt and pick her up. She sighs and wraps her arms around my neck. She murmurs my name; her face nuzzles my throat. I can’t take this discord anymore. We need a conclusion; I’m getting one the moment she’s sober. I lay her down on my bed. I unzip her sexy stiletto ankle boots. I liberate her dress next; I want to cry when I see the sexy lingerie underneath. She drives me crazy even when she’s passed out drunk. Quickly, I cover her body with one of my t-shirts – a man can only take so much – and put her under the covers.

  I take my time with my bedtime ritual because I have temptation in my bed. I emerge from the bathroom wearing pajama lounge shorts and a t-shirt. More than I would normally wear around her but necessary. I settle under the covers with my drunk love (who still smells divine) and take my phone off the charger. I grab my headphones from the nightstand and pull up the list of songs. I read off the last two songs like Amy suggested. “Addicted” by Kelly Clarkson and “Mercy (Acoustic Guitar)” from Shawn Mendez. I navigate to Amazon Music and pull up the first song with the lyrics.