Chapter 5
It might’ve been a friendly invitation only. But judging by the sex appeal that Taylor was flaunting, I knew that the blurred lines would start to draw themselves from this point onwards. I caught her downstairs putting on some feathered earrings colored like a peacock’s quill feathers. She had on black heels that gave her 1 – inch more, and the pink dress that was riding into the middle of her bum crease gave the breast area some padding.
They squeezed together as she adjusted her top and dress, and then threw on a small black cardigan that only falls below the lungs. Taylor looked ready to hit a few bars with the single tag still on. I had to intervene and remind her of where she was going. Like … prolong the reaaaaaallllly as she can’t be turning up to a kid’s party dressed to steal another’s husband.
“Are you sure he’s taking you to a kid’s party?”
“Is dressing up forbidden?”
“No … but …” –
“Then don’t say a word. So judgemental.”
“Taylor …” I chucked my car keys on the sofa. “I mean, you look edible for a date, but toning it down a little won’t hurt your chances. If that’s what you’re going for?”
“I got dressed up for me. Nobody else.”
I wish I could believe that. But when Stanley came up from the basement with nothing on but his black track pants and bare torso – I went to grab my keys because I’m not allowing my body to do the tootsie-roll without my permission. It belongs to me. Not him. Oh no, I’m admitting that my feet want to do the footsie-wrote under the tablecloth with Stanley.
Taylor was patting her straightened hair that smelt hard pressed by a straightener. There was a warmth coming from it too. Stanley walked over to Taylor, she rabidly grips onto her hair subconsciously and yanks it; curls it with her index finger … around … and around … and I saw a small smirk on his face when she did, he knew she was wholly brought for the slaughter on his slab.
But it didn’t matter, his eyes fell on me and his neck twitched involuntarily. My eyes fell to his gold dog tags with a black dotted chain. His name, Stanley Raven, was engraved with a date at the bottom. And then some initials. It could possibly be the name of his army unit, as Carl used to wear pure silver tags with his unit carved which was called B-456.
“Morning, he was addressing Taylor, but his eyes still fell upon me first, and then her afterward.” He came out bare-chested on purpose. He wanted to show us both how much of a Mr. Muscle his torso was. All that protein, crunches, and body weight lifting, paid off because I noticed that Stanley drank pea protein powders and monitored his fat intake. He had his own mixer for his smoothies.
Stanley’s 6-pack was so perfectly aligned from his extensive workout regime that Carl would boast that to get abs like Stanley’s in such a short amount of time turned sheep into the ones they feared: the wolves. I was stupefied as I nearly dropped my keys twice and then left them on the carpet because they would only drop again. My whole frame was crushed by the enormity of not feeling my legs. Taylor was obvious with it, I tried to play it like I’d come over faint and then sat on the sofa so he wouldn’t think he had the upper hand on me. It also meant I wouldn’t have to face him.
“Taylor … as sexy as you look, I don’t think my aunt would approve of you coming to her home dressed like that.”
“Oh.” She feigns the innocence of her outfit. I know her to well. “Should I change?”
“If you can? It’s only because she’s quite religious. And I don’t want her causing a scene and embarrassing you.”
“Ok.” Taylor deserves an award for her very convincing display as a voice-over actress because of the incorruptibility in that tone of hers. The way she’s now transformed into a girl with a crush who hides it by being a grown woman is impressive. She’s higher toned, stuck in the pool of Stanley’s perspired smell from coming up those steps and it being so stuffy. “I’ll go and change.” I imagine, behind me, she’s battering those eye-liner lashes and smiling goofily with pinker than miss piggy cheeks.
I hear her footsteps up the stairs, and then that dead mass in the room which is heavy as a stone troll: it’s only me and Stanley in the room who I hear inhaling, and then the exhale with his bare feet that creak because I’m holding my breath and hoping he leaves me alone. Please don’t come over here? I’m counting my blessings … but none for me, Stanley’s there and peering down. “Can we talk about … yesterday?”
“I think … it’s best if we don’t speak about it?”
“No. I … I can’t really say I’m sorry for doing what I did.”
That’s a new one. Ok, I’m looking up to him bit-by-bit, “You were about to place my fingers in your mouth.”
“You asked for a straightforward roommate. I never try to hold back from a sexual attraction. I’m very forward like that.”
Oh no. “Stanley, I could put that as borderline harassment. In a way, I’m your landlord who’s also seeing someone. And not only that, it was my second time dealing with you.”
“Megan” –
“You know my name?” -
“I asked Taylor.”-
“Ok.” My gaze drops like a blind mole. I can’t keep looking into those eyes of his. It gets me moist. Not physically causing a lubricant, but I won’t allow my external genitals to think it can do such a thing.
“It felt … right. And at the time, it was as if you felt it too. A certain …”
I won’t look at him. I refuse. Taylor, can you please come down those stairs and take the man you’re now going to try and entrap. I hear a few chester drawers sliding open and then shutting. Movement from her room. But does it take that long to find an outfit for a kiddies party? I’m just wanting to escape and have a nice normal day without the image of his torso in my head.
“Whatever you think it was Stanley, it can’t happen again.”
“I can’t keep promises.” –
He’s worse than Carl. I sort of like it … that persistence that he wants to start. I’m fighting back the urge to flirtingly smirk at that. I won’t reach for my hair. I shouldn’t run my hands through and flick-it outwards to get his attention onto my neck area. And as if I spoke a curse, I unavoidably try to get him to see my neck; separating my hair so that he can see my clavicle and thyroid.
I have his attention that outlines my spinal column and cervical lordosis: areas of the neck that I rotate for him. I stop, catch myself out, and see him staring down at me. “Stanley, what are you doing to me?” I dreamily say this, then quickly cover my mouth - as I’m lifted to my feet by him.
“I want to be kissing you. That’s what I want to be doing.” He says it with passion.
I shove him away, but not rudely, in fact, it’s barely a shove, but Stanley let’s go of my forearms that he had clasped close to his bare chest. I could feel my skin receptors prickling just from the slight feeling of that. The first case of his skin upon mine. “Please, I just … I don’t need to be dealing with another Carl.”
“I’m not Carl. I’m Stanley. And I think I want to take you out. Get to know you.”
“Stanley, I’m seeing somebody.” –
“Who obviously isn’t doing a good job if you’re here battling attraction.”
Taylor is coming down, I ignore her footsteps that have gotten quieter. “You aren’t going to stop, are you?”
“Not until you at least let us have a meal or drink? To see if we can leave it be.”
“Fine.” It can’t hurt to have an innocent drink. Jesus, I’m no better than Taylor who’s now 5-yards from me and Stanley in a straight black skirt and casual pink jumper with a silver cross chain. So, she went from hooker to bible basher. And the heels went out the door to as she adjusts her wedges with a black bridge. And her hair is now in a black hairband and ponytail. She can disguise the harlot, but she still sings like a canary. I joke. But it is funny.
Stanley sees the humour. And so, does Taylor, who smirks at me because she knows that her outfit is just to poke fun at Stanley’s aunt. “Very Christian.” He scoffs energetically.
“I haven’t worn this in over 3 – years. So, it does have that appeal.”
“She’ll welcome you as a daughter.”
Taylor’s mouth does this zigzag as she crunches on her tongue. She’s still eyeing him hungrily with a smize. “We’ll see.”
“Ok. Well, give me 10-minutes and I’ll take my ride.”
“Ok.” Taylor looks pleased. She heads to the kitchen to get out that sandwich she didn’t eat: Falafel and lentils.
It’s my cue to go and have my sweet chili wrap. But Stanley grips my wrist and I see that he hands me his phone: xperia phone. “Can I get your number?”
I took it, but; “don’t you already have my number from the ad?”
“I’d personally like to think that I can get it from you without having to go online. It makes this seem more authentic.”
“Hmm.” It’s all I could say as it was drenched in curiosity. “Ok.” I dab in my number and save it under my name. “There.”
He smiles down at it. And then me. “How about later on tonight? Around, say, 10 pm. I can come and collect you?”
“Yeah.” I had forgotten that Marcus wanted to meet. I was under the spell of the 6-pack. I kept darting from his abs to the side of my tv, and then behind me when Taylor came and handed me my sweet chili wrap. How unusual for her. But I think it’s because I’m spending too much time with her new fancy.
“I’ll go and get changed.” And … and … and … he’s disappeared. The basement door closes. But for me and Taylor still, reminisce about that rear view. I tried not to. But Taylor was watching his ass like a passionate love scene.
“I saw you give him your number.”
“I did.” I bite into my wrap. Cold from the fridge, but still fresh enough. I won’t speak with my mouthful, but I’m chewing and trying to get some words out that are jibberish. “Nething wron wit dast.”
“I can’t make out what you’re saying. But there is plenty wrong with you giving another guy your number when you’re still with Marcus.”
I’m chewing and rolling my eyes. The lettuce is a little soggy; I glare at my wrap to see what else is a little icy wet.
“I’m not telling you what to do. Just, be smart. Marcus is known to be emotional over you. If he finds out that another guy is moving in here. He won’t like it.”
The last chew. A swallow. And then me grabbing my car keys. “Marcus doesn’t control me.”
“If you say so. And please, for now, leave Stanley to me.”
I shut the door with a slam. An accidental mistake. My keys won’t lock it. After the 3rd attempt it locks. I’m annoyed. She wants Stanley. He’s not her to keep. Let me go to work to complete my 5 – hour shift at a desk handling customer query calls orders from both online and telephone. Easy enough earner. But it gets so daunting doing the same thing over and over.
…
I agreed to meet Marcus at his workplace which was a gym that was ironically called Gym-nasium. He told me to apply and work there, that they needed a receptionist. I told him no because the wage is too low. It was actually a little better, but I didn’t want to work with him. Sleeping with him had become enough time spent. And it was only becoming more and more draining to be in his presence. I drove there and parked in the parking lot that was free for gym members and a buddy of their choice. I was his buddy, for now.
Marcus said that we could speak in the back office where the security camera and his packed lunch was in a container: 2 boiled eggs and a potato salad mixed with plenty of mayonnaise. He was half-way done when I got there and drinking a coke. The staff’s backpacks were there; named lockers, and the companies rota. Loads of empty water bottles were in here too.
“We could’ve just grabbed some fast food or something.”
“I have at least 45-minutes break. And they don’t mind you being here since they now you.”
I put my bag down, and he pulls out a seat for me to sit next to him. We’re facing the spare computer used for when customers come in and need help when their pin code fails them. All their information is stored in files. I know this because my work is similar. “What do you have to say?”
“No, hello Marcus, how are you doing? Was your workday good so far? Not even a damn kiss. You just come in and ask me what I have to say?”
I mimic in his winy voice, “Hello Marcus, how was your work day? Has it been good so far?” My sarcasm stinks! “Would you like a kiss?” I take my palm; kiss it - and mail it to him through an invisible phone line. “Happy?” I end it all with my original voice box.
“No need to be so dramatic!” –
“And no need to tell me what to do! How about you ask me all those things? Why do I have to ask you?”
“Because I’m not the one treating you like shit.” -
“oh, for fuc …” I hurgh with irritation. “Can you stop crying and be honest with yourself about the state of this relationship. Which for one, is on the brink of a serious problem.”
“I didn’t create it.”
“Marcus!” I close in the door. His workmates don’t need to hear what I have to say. “Tonight, I’m going to have a drink with another guy.” My heart wants to beat to the drum of anxiety, how he’ll react is like a boner: I’m not scared of him, but Marcus can get under my nails and have me pick at them … so to speak.
“No, you’re not.” He closes his food container immediately.
“And why? Why can’t I go for a drink with another man?”
“You’re with me.” -
“I’m not your girlfriend. And never have played in that role. In the beginning, me being your girl was nowhere in your sights and you were happy with that. And you know what … as it stands, I’m glad we never made anything official.”
“I don’t give a fuck about what things were back then. It’s changed. Feeling developed. And I’m asking you now to respect me and my wishes to be your boyfriend.”
“I can’t.”
“If you go out with that guy tonight then me and you won’t be speaking. Do you hear me? I don’t want to deal with another guy.”
I sigh. It wasn’t the way I wanted it to go. But north can go west, and I can’t ignore where the compass blows. It’s not that I’m even upset when I get up and refuse to answer him. He tries to stop me, but to avoid embarrassment, he doesn’t yell or call me back into the office. A few of his colleagues play like they didn’t hear us argue, a girl called Sandra even waves at me awkwardly, I barely smile her way.
I see Marcus watching me leave and enter my car. It’s a hard thing to acknowledge, but I don’t feel as guilty anymore. I do feel though, that apart of me does care for Marcus, and how even though his games, in the beginning, were what I shielded myself from and brought me to not drop it for him at all, is now no longer an issue.
There is a text from Stanley on my phone. He wants me to confirm tonight. Will I? Won’t I? I wait for the cars from the left and right to let me pass from the exit of the parking space. And while I do, I think on whether I should meet Marcus tonight?