A Little Bit of Truth (Little Bits) (22 page)

I kind of miss that girl, she hasn’t called me in months and when I’ve tried to call her she hasn’t answered. Did you ever meet Jess? I can’t remember.

What about you? Do you have a best friend I don’t know about?

P.S. If I don’t respond immediately it’s because I’m out with Kev. I really hope you get well soon.

+++++++++++++

Marie just shared with me. She just… shared. She never talks about her life, I wonder if she’s ashamed of it. Makes me wonder why. Did something happen to her to make her the way she is?

I want to ask but she doesn’t seem traumatized or anything along those lines. She’s just a closed person.

Some could argue that I’m the same but in reality I just don’t have much to tell. Maybe she’s the same, maybe she feels like she doesn’t have much to tell or thinks people won’t be interested.

A niggling voice scratches at the back of my mind. It tells me, ‘for someone who doesn’t love this girl you sure are obsessed with figuring her out.’ Then I rationalize it, the reason being, she’s my best friend and this is what friends do.

Then I read her P.S. and can’t help but curse under my breath.

Who the fuck is this Kev guy? Maybe I should call Maya and find out.

No, because if Maya tells Marie, Marie will be pissed that I’ve been snooping!

It just seems strange that some blast from her past shows up right as he’s getting a divorce and she doesn’t say a word of it to anybody
but me. Maybe I’m reading into things; but to me, it sets off alarms that have me worried. Who is he to Marie and why is he so important that she’s forgiven him after ignoring her for the past two years since getting married?

I’m bored, when I’m bored I think a lot, even when I’m ill. I need to sleep.

“I’ve wanted to see this for too fucking long,” Kev says and produces t
wo movie tickets from his inner jacket pocket.

I look at the name and blink away my disappointment. Jacob isn’t in this one. He should be in all movies, just because.

“This good?” He asks and leads me into the movie theatre which is emptier than usual. He smiles fondly at me when I agree and pick the largest tub of popcorn and a huge cup of Cola. Being the gentleman he is, he shifts them over to one arm and grabs my hand again. Why do I feel like I’m on a date? “You look beautiful.”

Umm…

“Always do.”

“Umm…”

A woman takes our tickets and rips a stub off which she hands back to us, then she points us in the direction of screen five. We plod along. Or more like, I plod and he strolls happily. This night out just got awkward. Why is he still holding my hand?

We find our seats, right at the back and I can’t help but feel like we’re in High School again. This is where I had my first kiss my junior year. It’s whe
re I gave my first blowjob in college but that’s a story for another time. It was also in a different movie theatre but whatever.

“You’ve been a bit distant lately,” placing the popcorn between his thighs and the drink in the holder to the right of him, he turns slightly towards me.
“I’ve texted a couple of times.”

Oh, yeah I remember him texting during my hermit phase.
I also remember ignoring them.

“My bad.”

“Everything okay?” The concern in his eyes is obvious, it’s also unnecessary.

“Yup.”

I notice his brows twitch and his face fall, it vanishes under a veil of darkness as every light blinks off and the movie begins.

A warm thumb circles the outside of my wrist, just below my hand, I’m not sure if he even realizes he’s doing it.

His hand moves and calloused fingers stroke my arm up to my elbow and back down again. I clear my throat, feeling mightily uncomfortable and reach over for the drink. An excuse to move my arm out of his way. Keeping my head turned towards the movie I sip the drink and put it back before slipping my hands between my thighs just above my knees.

This movie is shit. This entire night was a bad idea. Why is he being weird?

“Give me your hand,” he whispers in my ear and places his own on my thigh palm up.

“Why?”

“What do you mean why?”

I shift in my seat as he tries tugging my hand from between my thighs.

He repeats, his voice a low growl, “Give me your fucking hand.”

“Why?”

“Because I want it.”

“Fine.” Placing my palm to his
, I try to relax as he starts tickling my skin. His fingers move up and down my own and in between. I can’t relax though, this is so weird.

“Relax.”

“Why are you touching me?” I hiss and hear him snort. “It’s strange.”

“I like touching you.”

“I repeat… strange.”

“It’s not like I’ve never touched you before.”

Gah. “It’s still strange.”

“Why?”

“Because friends don’t touch friends like more than friends.”

His body shakes with laughter, “What a sentence you just weaved.”

“You’re still touching me.” I glare at him, the glow of the screen lighting his profile. Déjà vu.

“I like touching you,” he smiles, it’s handsome and charming and brings back memories
I don’t want to remember. His eyes twinkle knowingly and he gradually leans in. It’s safe to say I have no idea what the movie’s about, I also have no idea what I should do right now. He’s going to kiss me, he’s actually going to kiss me. I hate being kissed! No, don’t kiss me, I might vomit.

My eyes widen and my breath hitches. This isn’t right, this is all wrong.

“What are you doing?” I practically whimper. Oh god, I’m a mess. I feel seventeen again.

“Kissing you.” He’s so close I can feel his breath on my lips.
Ewww.

“Well, yeah, I see that, you know, you’re really close. Close like kissing close, but maybe…”

His lips touch mine. Nothing. Nada. Zilch. Zero. Apart from a little disgust at the feel of another mouth on mine, I feel nothing.

I pull back and touch my lower lip with my index finger.

Before I get a chance to assess the lack of sparks and chemistry that I usually get when a man touches me and should definitely get with Kev, his lips are back on mine and his hands are on my head, specifically gripping my neck and hair. Ack.

“I’ve missed this,” he whispers against my lips and brushes his thumb over my
cheekbone.

“Okay,” Is all I can say, still a little shocked and dazed at the reality of the situation not feeling like reality at all
, but instead a bad dream that at one point I wanted to be real. Yet don’t any longer. Surely anyone can see why I’m so messed up right now?

Am I kissing him back? Oh my god, I’m kissing him back.
Double ack.

With tongues and everything. He hasn’t changed his kissing style that’
s for sure. Still a good kisser, not as good as Jacob though. Although him being a good kisser doesn’t make this swapping of saliva any less revolting. All I can see in my mind are all of the tiny germs swamping his mouth before swimming into my own.

Another sense of déjà vu. I’ve been here before with Lucas. That was a funny night.
Lucas is the second man I’ve kissed in about three years, he wasn’t bad and he tasted nice so it didn’t gross me out too much, plus I wanted to get laid and I knew Lucas wouldn’t screw me if I didn’t kiss him. Definitely a funny and awkward night.

This one isn’t so funny. Not at all.
It’s definitely awkward though.

His hand moves to my thigh, I tense. Why am I
tensing? This is what I do… right? It’s what I’m good at. Do I want three nights with Kev?

Shit, we’re still making out.

Kev’s hand presses mine to his crotch, he’s hard, definitely hard. Average sized with a nice thickness. Why am I grading his penis?

Since when did a cock become a penis?

He groans in my mouth, I flinch.

Then my eyelids
turn pink, like a light is shining on us. Someone clears their throat, we pull apart slightly and glance up at the woman with the flashlight pointed at us.

“Oops,” I say as Kev starts sniggering like a teen.

“Out,” is all she says with an arm outstretched and her finger pointing towards the exit.

“Yes ma’am,” I mutter and Kev laughs harder. Asshole. This isn’t funny.

This is the kind of shit Maya does, not me. I never get busted, especially not for making out.

“Sorry, this is my fault.” Kev wraps his arm around my shoulder
s as we descend the stairs. “I should have cut it off after the first time you moaned but it was too damn sexy.”

I was moaning? I don’t remember feeling like I needed to moan.
Maybe humming the Death March.

“We’re lucky we’re not getting done for indecent exposure or something,” I hiss back, lowering my head as we walk swiftly through the
lobby and out onto the street.

“I’m a cop remember,” he wags his eyebrows.

“That doesn’t mean you’re invincible to the law.”

“Marie, we were in a dark place making out. The police don’t waste their time on shit like that when people are dying and kids are being badly treated. Okay?”

“Sure,” I grumble knowing he’s right but still feeling like an idiot.

“When did you become such a prude?” he jokes but it still stings. I’m not and never have been a prude but I never wanted to make out with him in the first place, so getting caught doing it is not funny. Not like it would be if I was enjoying it. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

“Huh?”

“You look lost in your own mind,” he places his hands on my hips and bends his neck so his eyes can see into mine. “Are you okay?”

Forcing a smile I reply, “Yep. I’m just bummed we missed the movie.”

“I’m not.” Then he asks the words I knew were coming
but hoped wouldn’t. “My place or yours?”

Homesick

If only England was a state in America. Then I’d be able to just hop in a helicopter, fly to Marie’s and rip that jerk
off from her bed. I’m not stupid, it’s afternoon here which means it’s late morning there and I’ve still had no reply to any of my emails.

Why would I rip him from her bed?

Because nobody is allowed to use Marie for three nights of pleasure. Nobody. And it’s my duty, as her closest friend, to kick the shit out of anyone who tries. She deserves better than that.

Although, now that I think about it, I’m not one hundred percent certain it’s
not the guys who are using her any more than it is her who is using them. Marie likes getting off. I know this, I’ve experienced it and it’s fucking beautiful.

But it’s my beautiful.

I’ll store that thought for later.

If she hasn’t gotten off at least three times during the deed she gets pissed and she won’t go back
to that person again. The woman is greedy but she gives as much as she takes, if not more.

I’m fucking hard again. Maybe I should call her and discreetly pound one out to her voice.

I’m a sick, sick man.

That thought
’s almost as bad as me fucking her while she was sleeping. I was so relieved that night when she woke up and just took it all in her stride. When she started pushing back into me and moaning in that husky sex voice of hers.

That’s it, I’ve got to call her.

I’m a sick man. A sick, sick man.

It’s ringing.

Still ringing.

“Hello?” YES!

“Hey,” I clear my throat and undo my zipper. This is it. “What’re you doing?”

“Umm… Can I call you back?”

“No.” NO! My hand is nearly there god dammit, you cannot hang up! “Why?”

She pauses for a moment, “I kind of have company right now.”

“What? Who?”

“
Marie, please,” a guy says and my hand stops its descent to my cock. Is that Kev? I can’t tell if that’s Kev.

“Give me a second,” she sounds weird, almost vulnerable or scared. What’s going on?

“Who the fuck is that Marie?” This isn’t good, this really isn’t good. Why do I have to be so god damn far away?

“It’s umm…” I hear whispering for a moment but can’t make out the words. “It’s my dad.”

Yeah right, the dad she told me is dead? “Your dad?”

“Yeah,” pause. “Look, I have to go. I’ll call you later.”

“Why’s your dad there?” This I’ve got to hear, I didn’t realize men just climbed out of the grave and continued on with their role in life.