Chapter Fifteen

Georgina

 

 

Last night with Blake was … it was almost more than I could bear.

My head was in the worst state. The things he’d done to me, the way he’d behaved while he had me tied up, and how considerate he’d been either side of that, left me utterly confused about the kind of man he really was. He seemed so ready to play the part, to use me however he wanted. Was that the real him, and he was just pretending to care? I had to remind myself that that was actually what I wanted from him—a man who was just after sex.

But despite reminding myself over and over that it didn’t matter what kind of man he was, everything felt like it was getting way too complicated.

I drove to Blake’s that day, fifty-fifty torn between doing the next list item and ending this arrangement.

I got out of my car and went to the door but just as I raised my hand to knock, the door opened and a girl with a face covered with smeared makeup and a neck covered in hickeys peered out at me.

“Holy shit, that sun is going to kill me,” she said in this perfectly calm voice. The smell of alcohol baked off her, mingled with sweat. She raised a shaking hand, shielded her eyes, and added, “Wow. You must be her.”

I blinked. “Her, who?”

“The girl Buddy thought I was when he kissed me the first time.” She looked me up and down as I did the same to her. I was too busy wondering if she meant Blake was Buddy and what she meant about the first time to assess how similar we appeared.

“Dude, that guy drinks like a fish swims. I am lucky to be alive.” Glancing down the driveway, she let out a long groan. “I think I threw up in my car. This is going to be one fucking rough ride home.”

I followed her with my gaze as she wobbled across the lawn and peeked in the windows of a blue sedan parked half on and half off the curb. “Yeah, I definitely threw up in there.”

“Maybe you should roll the windows down,” I said, because I couldn’t think of anything else to say.

“Yeah, smart one. What time is it, anyway?”

“Two.”

“In the morning?” She gazed up at the bright sky. “Duh, of course it’s two in the afternoon. I am so fucking fried—fri—fired … both,” she said. Blinking a few times at the sky above, the color dropped from her face and she dashed back from the curb to hurl in the neighbor’s hydrangeas. Then she fell over and got tangled in the bushes, and yelled a bunch of words I wasn’t sure were even English before making it back to her feet and getting into her car.

The windows went down, more yelling ensued, and then a pair of panties flew out the window and landed on the sidewalk. Her car lurched from side to side, and I winced, hoping she made it back wherever she had come from without killing someone.

Blake’s front door was still open and I closed it, softly.

Tears sat in my eyes. I had no idea why. I shouldn’t care who that girl was or what she’d done with Blake. He wasn’t mine. That was the agreement. I couldn’t get angry because he had screwed another girl. Right after me. He had every right to do whatever he wanted to just like I had every right to do what I wanted to do, and what I wanted right then was to get the heck out of there and go somewhere quiet to cry.

I was halfway down the path when the door banged back open and Blake’s head popped out. He looked awful. His skin was a greenish-gray. There were dark circles under his eyes, and he gasped harshly when the sun hit his face.

I honestly expected him to burst into flames for a second. He must have too, because he wrapped his arms over his head and scuttled down the grass to where I stood. The old man from next door was out getting his mail again and watched the whole scene. Blake waved to him. The neighbor made eye contact with me for a moment and shook his head with disapproval.

“Where are you going?” Blake asked me.

“Sorry, you might have me confused with the woman that already left.” I knew it was snarky but I was still stinging with jealousy and I didn’t know how to handle that at all.

His red-rimmed eyes looked slowly to the street, now empty, then back to me.

Blake put his hands to his chest like he was making a vow. “Oh, no. No, no, no. Veronica? I didn’t do anything with her, I swear.”

“I couldn’t care less what you did with her,” I lied. “Just don’t lie to me like I’m an idiot.”

Could I be any worse of a human being right now? My hypocrisy left a bad taste in my mouth, and I tried to walk away again.

Blake stepped in front of me, and wobbled like he might fall over. “I’m not lying. Why would I lie? I know you don’t care. Look, just … this fucking sunlight. Come inside, and meet Buddy, and I’ll explain.”

“Buddy? She called you Buddy. She said you thought she was me, and you kissed her. More than once.” I was letting him lead me up the path, letting myself hope he was telling the truth.

Blake winced. “I was completely bottled at the time, and I really did think I was kissing you. Things got a bit crazy, and all my new friends ended up back at my place.”

We got to the front door and Blake pointed through at the couch. A man with pale ginger hair, wearing nothing but an old sheet covering his middle, was sprawled there, snoring loudly.

“That’s … I’m not sure what his name is. I’ve been calling him Buddy. He hooked up with the girl that just left. I let them crash here.”

“You let two complete strangers sleep at your place … possibly sleep with each other at your place?” I wasn’t sure whether to think it was kind or crazy of him. Blake was picking up strays all over the place.

“Buddy needed a break. He’s been having a rough time.” Blake looked down the street. “I didn’t really get to know Vicki at all.”

“You called her Veronica a second ago.”

“She might be Verity.”

I shrugged, trying to hide the immense relief I felt. “She tossed her drawers,” I said.

“Is that Yankee slang for threw up?”

“What?”

“You know, like tossing your cookies?” Blake asked.

“No, I mean she threw a pair of panties out of her car. But also yes.”

“Ah.” He stared at them on the sidewalk.

“You’re just going to leave them lying out there, aren’t you?” I asked. My mouth was twitching upward.

“Yep. I don’t think I can face any cleaning up right now.”

“You do look like you’ve been hit by the hangover bus. And then it reversed back over you a few times,” I observed.

“I feel worse. You look great.”

“It’s the pure joy of not being hungover, radiating out of me.”

Blake smiled, but it faded fast. He seemed worried by something more than his hangover. “Do you want to come in?”

“Better not wake Buddy. I was thinking maybe we could go do that next thing.” I gestured to my sundress, the swimsuit underneath, the cues that a trip to the beach could happen. I was excited for this list item more than just for the sex. I’d never actually been to the beach before. It was a long drive from here, and since the lake was so close we always just went there instead. But I’d always wanted to go. My heart came alive at the thought of swimming in the ocean.

Blake blinked bloodshot eyes at me. “Seaside? Today? You trying to kill me? Maybe we can skip to the ‘sex with a woman’ part of your list.”

Too soon. I bristled again. “Maybe you could call your new girlfriend back, see if we can’t knock that out real quick so I can go do what I really want to do today.”

Blake looked way too eager for a split second before my tone caught up with him. “Wow, can you hold the sarcasm a little? I’m about to drown in it. I thought you didn’t care who I slept with.”

“I don’t,” I lied. I could feel my invisible armor thickening, ratcheting tighter with each click, constricting my breath with each lie. “I care that you didn’t sleep with her. That you think that’s what I want. You’re not mine. I’m not yours.”

Click, click, click.

Blake threw up his hands. “I didn’t ask for this shit.”

“I think I remember you did. I should have said no.” I turned and walked back to my car.

“Don’t run away again!” He wobbled down the path after me, and put a hand on my shoulder, but I wasn’t sure whether it was to stop me or stabilize himself. “Just tell me what the fuck is wrong?”

My armor wasn’t thick enough. Tears came. Too fast to stop. Blake saw them and his face looked ashen.

Mortified, I turned and ran, slamming the car door and driving off, vowing never to come back.