Denial (18 page)

She’s his. She’s in love with him. And I am so jealous it makes me nauseous. It’s only going to get worse if I get to know her better, so I won’t, even though I really want to. This fucking sucks. Maybe I could… No. It’s not going to happen. She wants to do this. For him. The prick. But I’m not much better.

I can help her, I guess. The idea of her going to anyone else… I’m literally shuddering at the thought. One of them touching her… it can’t happen. It has to be me. Yeah, she’ll hate me, but I fucking deserve that. There’s no way she’ll like that shit, but at least she’ll know that she tried. I can definitely teach her how to negotiate so when she goes back to him… if I think about it, my head will explode.

This has to stop now, I have to tell her right away. I’ll never kiss her again and I don’t understand why the idea of never feeling her lips against mine hurts so much. I don’t know really know her. She definitely doesn’t know me.

Maybe that’s what I should do. Because if she knew me, for real, she certainly wouldn’t want me. Then it wouldn’t matter how much I want her. Even if she still did, it could never happen. If she leaves Luke on her own, she’ll be fine. Probably. But if she left him for me, not as if that would ever happen in a million years, but if it did, he could ruin her. Her career would be over before it even started. He might even fucking kill her. Or worse. He would definitely kill me. But I would deserve it. Not for this, but I still deserve it. She doesn’t.

I was so stupid last night. It was completely worth it,
unless this goes very wrong. I won’t let that happen.

1
5

The smell is what wakes me. Bacon. I’m s
tarving. It’s pretty bright out, what the hell time is it? 2:41. Shit. Isaac isn’t here. I wish he was, but I guess I don’t have to worry about whether or not he’s going to call me because he’s making me breakfast.

Wait, I should be doing that, shouldn’t I? Crap. Looks like I’m late for my first cooking class. I crawl out of bed a little disoriented and completely naked. Oh, right, my clothes are in the other room. My hips are so sore and my nipples aren’t feeling so great either. They were last night. I can’t wait to brag to Piper about how I got to do all the things she does that makes me jealous, plus more, and with a guy that is way hotter than anyone either of us has ever slept with. Right. No phone. My thumb twitches.

Just what should I wear? And how is this going to go now? Is he going to be weird afterward? Probably not, because I’m sure it wasn’t that big of a deal to him. It never is for guys, and certainly not for a guy who basically bangs hot chicks for a living. Is he going to be mean to me? Will I be able to listen to him?

Oh my God. My hair has been replaced with Medusa’s and there’s no way I’m going to be able to comb it out. It’s not tousled in a sexy way, so much as in a street person way. Putting it up is the only option. It smells like sex. And Isaac. My face is actually looking pretty good considering, especially my lips! They’re a little chapped, but so red and full. Frantic kissing and cock sucking apparently make the best lip plumpers ever. I haven’t had a hickey since high school.
Now I have a collar of them and I can’t figure out if it’s hot or trashy.

I want to look cute when he sees me. Screw it, I’ll wear something cute. I’m certainly doing laundry today anyway because my bed is a biohazard right now. Maybe I’ll be able to sleep in his again tonight. I shouldn’t get my hopes up though.

Should I wear my necklace? I know I’m here for Luke. Actually, I’m here for my own future, which will be a lot brighter with Luke in it, but I can’t bring myself to put his necklace on right now. It feels wrong to wear it over another man’s marks on me. I look pretty good in this pale blue sundress, even with my jacked up hair in this bun. Piper calls this messy hot.

Okay, time to walk out into the hallway. Look casual. Because you had casual, no strings attached sex last night, so pull yourself together here and don’t look like an idiot. And don’t make this awkward for him by getting all kissy huggy because that was last night and this is this morning. Afternoon. Whatever.

Treading quietly, I peek my head around the corner, hoping that I can get a look at him before he sees me. I do. He gets cuter every time I see him. His hair is still perfect. No fair.

Isaac is making some sort of sandwich that looks and smells delicious. He’s so gorgeous. My stomach flutters as I get a flash of last night. Get a grip. His brow is furrowed and he’s clearly concentrating on more than making that sandwich. He adjusts the strawberry garnish three times on the plate that I hope is mine. This is rude, just watching him like this, but I can’t stop. Apparently he’s satisfied with the presentation, but his expression is still worried.

Shit. He caught me staring at him. His face is happy and excited for a moment before his jaw hardens and he looks away. Blushing, I do my best to shove these stupid butterflies back into their stupid jar but they keep escaping before I can get the lid screwed on all the way. I stumble out of the hallway and remember where the bathroom is, so I make a beeline for it.

It stings a bit when I pee, but it’s not that bad. I’m pretty swollen down there though. I tentatively step out into the hallway. This s
ucks. I’m already afraid to mess up. Keep your stupid googly eyes down. It’s a little hard to walk that way though. Okay, use your eyes like a normal person but don’t look at his. I don’t like this at all.

“Hi,” I say, standing in the middle of the living room.

“Good morning, Maya.” His voice is cold and flat.

“I…” Are my eyes tearing up? Get a grip! He’s not going to haul off and beat you. “I don’t know what I should do.”

He sighs. “Just sit down at the table.”

“Am I allowed to look at you?” Should I call him Sir? He doesn’t like it, I don’t like it. How
frigging stupid.

He sits the plates on the table and walks over to me, lifting my chin. “Yeah, it’s okay.” I relax as I feel his lips press against my forehead. “Timeout.”

His hands stay on my face for a little too long and I can’t keep myself from getting excited. Based on the rhythm of his breathing, he is too. He pulls away and walks toward the table, gesturing for me to sit down in front of one of the dishes he set out, the one with the meticulously arranged strawberries.

Looking at him is almost worse that not looking, because his face is so distant. Where is that guy I slept with last night? I take a bite of my sandwich and my eyes bug out. This is incredible. A hint of a smile plays on his lips.

“This is fantastic.”

“Thank you.”

“What is this sauce?”

“Hollandaise. You’ll learn to make it. It’s easier than it looks.”

“Thanks for making me breakfast. Brunch.” This is so awkward.

“My pleasure,” he says softly. He’s fiddling with his food, looking like he wants to say something. Finally he does. “Are you alright?”

“Of course.”

“I mean physically. Are you bleeding, bruised, experiencing a lot of pain, that sort of thing?”

“Oh. No. I’m fine.” Geez. Too professional. He stares at me, unconvinced. “Okay, I’m a little sore,” I blush.  “And swollen. But no blood. Didn’t check for bruising.”

“Good.” He sounds relieved.

“So what now?”

“Maya, I don’t want to hurt your feelings.” Here we go. Don’t look at him, it will make this easier on both of us. “I think it would be best if we just pretend last night didn’t happen.”

It stings, but I expected this, so I’m not going to freak out. “That’s fine.”

“Look, I really had a great time, but…” Oh please, not that line again. “It didn’t mean anything.”

“I know.” Don’t get all wimpy voiced.

“It’s just an endorphin high. It wasn’t real.” He’s right. But he’s still explaining, so maybe he did feel something. Yeah, endorphins, he just told you. Is that why it’s so hard not to touch him right now?

“I know.”

“That’s why they call it chemistry, right? Because it’s just chemicals and hormones fucking with us.”

He sounds like me when I talk to Piper. “Yeah, you’re right.”

“And it’s great that we have so much of it.”

I can’t help but smile. “It is?”

“Of course. It’s not li
ke we won’t be having sex again. But… no more kissing.”

My heart drops. “That sucks.”

“Yeah, it does,” he replies. That’s a relief. “But we can’t. It’s just going to get confusing.”

“Is
the no kissing thing standard when you do this?”

“No, but honestly it doesn’t happen that much. Certainly not like that.
” My heart skips a beat. “Luke has expressly forbade it.”

I don’t know how to respond to that. In a way I’m glad because Isaac said what we did last night was different than what he usually does. But mainly, I’m fuming at
Luke. I came here to feel better about him getting off on telling me what to do. So far this is making it harder.

“I don’t think I can do this.”

“Look at me.” I don’t listen. “Now.” I barely manage. “Last night, the first time.” Heat crawls across my skin just thinking about it. “The very first time, when you got scared and used your safeword.”

Oh. That. “What about it?”

“That was my fault. I went too fast. I got too excited.”

“So, do you normally not do that?”

“Maya, I’ve realized that normal isn’t going to work for you so I’m changing things up a little.”

“What does that mean?”

“Maybe we’ll be able to get around to everything, just not right away. If you can pull off the housewife, domestic servitude thing…” He’s starting to sound a little annoyed. “That seems to be the main thing he wants from you. If—”

I cut him off. “But not from them.”

“You know I can’t tell you anything about that.” He’s getting flustered. “And you don’t actually want to know, so I won’t answer any questions.”

“I need to know a little, I guess.”

“Could you possibly make this any more difficult for me?” He can get so irritated so quickly.

“I most certainly could.” Now it’s my words that have an extra layer of coldness and hostility. I need to get a hold of my temper. “How different is it?”

He sighs. “I suppose you could classify it between moderately and significant.”

“Would you classify it as significantly less violent?”

He swallows. “I’d hesitate to use the term significantly. But yes, that aspect is less intense.”

This isn’t helping, but I can’t tell if it’s making it worse. “So this Betty Cocksucker housewife thing,” I snap. Isaac stifles a laugh. “Does he want that from all of them? Or just me.”

After what seems like forever he finally looks up. “About 80% of the domestic stuff is just something he wants from you. Which makes sense, considering you’ll be the one living with him if it all works out.”

“So they get all the fun sex and I
get the dishes and laundry. Screw that.”

“The stuff you’re missing out on would not be fun. At all.”

“In other words, I’m engaged to be engaged with a psychopath. Great.”

Isaac’s eyes widen when I talk about the potential engagement, then he pauses. “Psychopaths do not have complex emotions as I understand it. I don’t know what you’d call him. Sadist would probably be the closest description, but that wouldn’t be entirely accurate either.”

“I feel like I don’t even know him.”

“You’re probably the only one that knows him. He’s not all bad, right? He can’t be, if you’re with him.”

He’s right. For the first year we were officially together everything was great. “No, he’s not.”

“That’s what always complicates things. People are never all bad or all good, even when they’re downright evil, and that isn’t how I would describe him, by the way. But even horrible people have a good side. Even people that hurt you can love you. That’s why it’s so hard to walk away.”

“Are you talking about him, yourself, or someone else?”

“I don’t know. Maybe all of the above.”

“Well, don’t sell yourself short. I think that you might be a better person than Luke.”

“
I’m not. If anything, I’m worse.”

“You don’t know that,” I say. Maybe he does. He probably knows more about him than I do. “Do you like weird shit like he does? Because he can be so… distant in bed.”

Isaac’s eyes flare. “Look, you don’t know me, okay? Maybe it feels like we know each other, but we don’t. And you can’t compare me to your boyfriend.”

“Yes, I do.” I take a deep breath. A little soul bearing never killed anyone, has it? “He’s never touched me the way you did last night. Even before all of this.”

He rolls his lips together and looks away. “That was a mistake. A fluke. That’s not how I really am.”

“What if everything else you do isn’t how you really are?

“I’m sorry that my pity party has confused you.” His tone is icy.

“You said that you hate the stuff he wants.”