Audrey
God. I thought that asshole would never leave, he just kept berating me, letting me know his position, like I fucking asked. Maybe it’s time I talk to Natalie about the future of the bar. I don’t think I can bear to look at Nate, “the dick” a minute longer. He freaks me out, and I get the weirdest sensation that I know him. It’s gotta be the fact that he so closely resembles Joey. If I had met such a prick before I would remember.
What was he expecting? He comes here looking like my dead lover and thinks I am not going to stare. It’s like caching glimpses of the man I love. So many times, I wanted to walk up to him, wrap my arms around him, and hug him close to see if he smells like Joey. I know it’s wrong, but I’m drawn to his brother. I can’t seem to stop myself. He’s made me cry twice today. I can’t believe he had the nerve to speak so rudely to me.
No compassion.
No fucks given.
Just hey I’m a prick, deal with it. I dealt with it all right, by ugly snot crying in the closet.
After collecting myself I stayed in the office with my puffy eyes and runny nose for comfort. There was no need for him to be so cruel. I mean yeah, someone staring at you can be uncomfortable and awkward, but I’m grieving, and coping the best way I can.
At least I am handling my, I’m not sure what to call it—my loss of Joey better than my break up with Austin. When he bailed on me, I drank way too much, and fucked one too many losers, until I met Joey. I try not to think about the girl I was back then very often.
Sure, I drink too much when thoughts of Joey are hard to bear, but at least I’m not taking random dick back to our apartment.
I wouldn’t.
I can’t.
Joey’s memory deserves so much more than that.
These past few months since he’s been gone, I’ve not done a very good job in keeping my shit together. Going over the books proves I’ve let my grief run the bar under. I’ve got to pick myself up and do better for Joey’s memory. He wouldn’t want me staying drunk and ruining what he worked so hard for.
Resolved to turn this place and my life around, I go out front to prepare for tonight. I can’t change things overnight, but a sober performance is a start.
I do my best to ignore Nate while I am on stage, but I can feel his daggered stare piercing my heart. It’s okay for him to gawk at me like a creeper, but not for me to do it to him I suppose. By the time I finish my second song he’s gone to his coming home party. Lewis is getting ready to take off. I promised him, and Natalie I would stay and mind the bar. I know I’m not wanted there anyway. Why would I be? Things between Joey’s family and me have been odd at best since his passing, other than Nattie. I don’t exactly blame her for her argument with Joey the day he died, but I am still hurt she didn’t think I was ready to marry him.
Sometimes I think it would be easier had she not told me that vital piece of information. I wish she had taken that to the grave. Well, let Joey take it with him. Then other nights I lie awake when it rains and wonder what if I had been pregnant when he died. I could’ve had a little Joey growing inside of me. I lay there rubbing my stomach, knowing I will never know what it feels like to carry the baby of the man I love.
Life isn’t fair.
It’s ugly and cruel.
I am snapped from my thoughts by Sasha giggling. Freddie is whispering something in her ear. I knew it. I knew they had the hots for each other. It’s sweet.
“Hey, lovebirds,” I call out over the music. “Get back to work.” I grin and Sasha blushes.
The kitchen is closed, but Freddie always stays around another hour or so to help wash glasses on busy nights. I wasn’t expecting much of a turn out, but it makes me happy to see us half-full. Most people want simple drinks, beer, a shot or some good whiskey and Coke.
I’d love to have a Jack and Coke, but I am making a new promise to myself to try harder. I can’t keep running from my problems or looking for answers at the bottom of a liquor bottle. It’s time to grow some lady balls and turn this shitstorm I have made of my life around.
Joey would want me to do better. He’d want me to live again. Wouldn’t he?
Hours later, when I am laying in bed I hear Nate next door, fucking the brains out of someone, it’s either that or he’s watching some porn a bit too loud.
Thinking about sex has my core aching, missing Joey’s touch. He still owes me. I laugh at the thought. Maybe he’ll show up in ghost form to pay the debt.
Lying in bed, my fingers skim across my stomach as I listen to Nate grunting and the sounds of a woman moaning. I miss being the one who is moaning too loudly and getting bitched out by Natalie for her having to suffer through the sounds of her best friend and her brother screwing.
Joey knew just where to touch me, he was such a sensual lover.
The first time we were together he went above and beyond to make sure I was comfortable and pleasured beyond measure. His fingers and tongue touched, licked, tasted, and caressed every inch of my body.
On autopilot my fingers trail downward, until they find the crotch of my panties. Rubbing across my lips, I imagine Joey doing the touching. His dark chocolate eyes soft with love and determination to get me off. I think about his tongue sweeping across my clit, loving the way I taste. I bring my finger to my mouth just as he used to do with his own and lick my finger. My other hand teases at my nipples, and I wish more than ever I hadn’t let Joey throw out my vibrator. He said I had him, I didn’t need an imitation.
At the time I agreed, but now as I lay here getting worked up, I wish I had BOB.
The woman getting pounded next door by my unwelcomed neighbor screams incoherently paired with the sound of their bodies slapping together. No wonder Natalie moved across the hall away from Joey and me. Loud sex must run in the family.
I try to ignore them and think about Joey, but I keep picturing Nate’s face instead. There is something seriously wrong with me. Even though they resemble each other, they are different in many ways. Nate’s hair is cut shorter and is slightly darker. He is also more muscular. Joey was in good shape, but his arms were half the size of his brothers.
God, I miss him, his touch, his voice. Unable to concentrate on my own pleasure, I tune back in to the performance happening next door.
He must really be giving it to her. Something hits the wall behind my head. Next, I hear the smacking of his hand landing on her ass. I squeeze my thighs together. He must be doing her from behind against the wall. I can’t help but imagine how intense his eyes must be when he is fucking. I wonder if they smolder like they did when he was yelling at me earlier. My fingers are back at my pussy as I think about how he looked when he told me off. Nostrils flared, jaws clenched, eyes dark and heated.
Dangerous.
Erotic.
I hear him clearly now. “Fuck, you like it rough like that? You like it when I pull your hair and pound into you harder?”
Nate is a talker, Joey was too.
“Yes!” she hisses in response. They might as well be lying next to me. I can almost feel their panted breaths they are so close to where I am laying.
My fingers are buried in my pussy, sliding in and out, working faster and harder as I rub my nipples in sync with the thrusts shaking the wall.
“I’m so close,” he tells her.
I want to shout, “Me too.” But I refrain and bite my lip, imagining his muscular body slamming into me with full force, filling me to the hilt, and him biting my shoulder when he climaxes. I circle my clit faster and faster wanting to get off right when he does. I pretend it’s me on the other side of the wall getting her ass smacked and her hair pulled. I hear a guttural groan rip from his throat signaling his climax and I get off, picturing him looking down at me with those dark eyes.
As soon as it is over though shames floods me. I’m a terrible person.
Maybe Natalie was right to tell Joey he shouldn’t marry me.
Not that it matters now.
Still though, I can’t help but wonder if he is looking down on me know ashamed of who I have become.