Something Reckless
Page 26
When I got to her house, she was different somehow. More distant. Almost like she was embarrassed to look at me. I took her on a walk and stared at the changing leaves as I tried to figure out what to say. I’d never asked a girl to go steady with me, I’d never wanted to, so I had no idea how to start with Liz.
When I finally broke the silence, I said, “I know we said it was just a fling . . .”
She smiled at me, a strained, tight expression. “No strings, no attachments, no expectations. You’re not here because you’ve changed your mind on me, are you?”
Something in the back of my mind warned me that this was the real reason I’d never asked a woman for more than sex. She doesn’t want you, it warned. “I—” And when I told her another woman was going to have my baby? Did I really expect that to help my cause? “A friend gave me some news this morning and I wondered if I could take you out. Talk to you about it.”
“I’m kind of busy.” She looked away. “No expectations, Sam. But that goes both ways, okay? I don’t want this to be all awkward now.”
She’d taken what I offered, but she didn’t want more. I swallowed hard, wanting to say something more than goodbye. “You’re special, Rowdy. Sometimes I get the feeling you don’t actually know that.”
“I’m just a girl who needed a good lay. Thanks for that.”
Her words were dull and sharp all at once and sawed their way into my chest like a rusty serrated blade. “I don’t even know what to make of you.”
“Do you really need to know?” She shifted awkwardly then. “Can you do me a favor? Don’t tell anyone about our little . . . indiscretion? I’d like to keep it our secret. I don’t want people getting the wrong idea about me.”
I wish I could say that was the first time in my life a woman had made me feel cheap, like a dirty secret she didn’t want the world to know about. I wish she’d been the first to make me feel I had no purpose to her outside the bedroom. Maybe if I hadn’t been so adept at that kind of relationship with women, I would have fought harder for her. Maybe she would have been my girl and last summer would have never happened. “Who would I tell?” I asked.
And so I went to the gym and I had a long, sweaty workout, pushing myself until the ache in my gut transformed into a throbbing protest from screaming lungs and exhausted muscles. I never told anyone about my night with Liz, and I never told anyone about Asia, never told a soul that I was going to be a father and that I was thrilled and excited and terrified all at once.
I didn’t have to tell anyone because Asia used my money to get herself some new furniture, and a nice little cushion in her savings account, and the next time I heard from her, she was calling to tell me she’d had the abortion and that she didn’t want to hear from me again.
Chapter Three
Liz
When I get home, the house is eerily quiet. Most nights I miss the days Hanna and I lived here together. She’s my twin sister and best friend. We grew up sharing a room and went on to share a dorm and then this house in college. I miss having her here, but tonight, I’m glad for the privacy because I have an anonymous stranger who wants to chat when I get into bed.
I take a shower, shampoo my hair, and wash the smell of bar and Harry off my skin. Instead of the yoga pants and sweatshirt I typically choose in the winter, I put on a thin black slip that slides over my skin and makes me feel sexy as hell. He won’t be seeing me, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to feel good—sexy is a state of mind, after all.
I grab my laptop and climb into bed. Even though we both have the chat client on our phones, we do the majority of our chatting from keyboards; it’s so much easier to type out significant chunks of text that way.
I wriggle into my pillows and power up my computer. My chat client opens immediately, and I can’t help but smile when I see the green light by his name.
Tink24: Wait for me long?
Riverrat69: It was worth it. How are you feeling?
Tink24: Better since I showered the reminder of tonight’s date off me.
Riverrat69: That doesn't sound good. Do I need to find this guy and kick his ass?
Tink24: Ha! Thanks for the offer, but it was nothing like that. I’m just feeling . . . frustrated.
Riverrat69: Romantically or sexually?
Tink24: Both, to be honest.
Riverrat69: It blows my mind that a girl like you doesn’t have guys lining up outside her door.
Tink24: A girl like me? What does that mean?
Riverrat69: Funny. Smart. Sexy as fuck.
Tink24: You’ve never seen me. How do you know I’m sexy?
Riverrat69: You can tell a lot from a girl’s hip . . . and the kind of panties she wears.
Tink24: Well, my looks have never been my problem. I’m not saying I’m a knockout, but there are always guys willing to sleep with me if that’s what I want.
Riverrat69: But you want . . . something more.
Tink24: I do. I won’t apologize for that. Why don’t you?
Riverrat69: I did once. It didn’t turn out like I’d hoped.
Tink24: What does that mean?
I squeeze my eyes shut, full aware of what a mind-fuck I’m putting myself through by having this conversation with Maybe Sam, trying to read too much into everything he says.
I exhale slowly and open my eyes to see the cursor still blinking at me—no reply from him. I should back down from my too-personal question.
Tink24: You don’t have to answer that.
When I finally broke the silence, I said, “I know we said it was just a fling . . .”
She smiled at me, a strained, tight expression. “No strings, no attachments, no expectations. You’re not here because you’ve changed your mind on me, are you?”
Something in the back of my mind warned me that this was the real reason I’d never asked a woman for more than sex. She doesn’t want you, it warned. “I—” And when I told her another woman was going to have my baby? Did I really expect that to help my cause? “A friend gave me some news this morning and I wondered if I could take you out. Talk to you about it.”
“I’m kind of busy.” She looked away. “No expectations, Sam. But that goes both ways, okay? I don’t want this to be all awkward now.”
She’d taken what I offered, but she didn’t want more. I swallowed hard, wanting to say something more than goodbye. “You’re special, Rowdy. Sometimes I get the feeling you don’t actually know that.”
“I’m just a girl who needed a good lay. Thanks for that.”
Her words were dull and sharp all at once and sawed their way into my chest like a rusty serrated blade. “I don’t even know what to make of you.”
“Do you really need to know?” She shifted awkwardly then. “Can you do me a favor? Don’t tell anyone about our little . . . indiscretion? I’d like to keep it our secret. I don’t want people getting the wrong idea about me.”
I wish I could say that was the first time in my life a woman had made me feel cheap, like a dirty secret she didn’t want the world to know about. I wish she’d been the first to make me feel I had no purpose to her outside the bedroom. Maybe if I hadn’t been so adept at that kind of relationship with women, I would have fought harder for her. Maybe she would have been my girl and last summer would have never happened. “Who would I tell?” I asked.
And so I went to the gym and I had a long, sweaty workout, pushing myself until the ache in my gut transformed into a throbbing protest from screaming lungs and exhausted muscles. I never told anyone about my night with Liz, and I never told anyone about Asia, never told a soul that I was going to be a father and that I was thrilled and excited and terrified all at once.
I didn’t have to tell anyone because Asia used my money to get herself some new furniture, and a nice little cushion in her savings account, and the next time I heard from her, she was calling to tell me she’d had the abortion and that she didn’t want to hear from me again.
Chapter Three
Liz
When I get home, the house is eerily quiet. Most nights I miss the days Hanna and I lived here together. She’s my twin sister and best friend. We grew up sharing a room and went on to share a dorm and then this house in college. I miss having her here, but tonight, I’m glad for the privacy because I have an anonymous stranger who wants to chat when I get into bed.
I take a shower, shampoo my hair, and wash the smell of bar and Harry off my skin. Instead of the yoga pants and sweatshirt I typically choose in the winter, I put on a thin black slip that slides over my skin and makes me feel sexy as hell. He won’t be seeing me, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to feel good—sexy is a state of mind, after all.
I grab my laptop and climb into bed. Even though we both have the chat client on our phones, we do the majority of our chatting from keyboards; it’s so much easier to type out significant chunks of text that way.
I wriggle into my pillows and power up my computer. My chat client opens immediately, and I can’t help but smile when I see the green light by his name.
Tink24: Wait for me long?
Riverrat69: It was worth it. How are you feeling?
Tink24: Better since I showered the reminder of tonight’s date off me.
Riverrat69: That doesn't sound good. Do I need to find this guy and kick his ass?
Tink24: Ha! Thanks for the offer, but it was nothing like that. I’m just feeling . . . frustrated.
Riverrat69: Romantically or sexually?
Tink24: Both, to be honest.
Riverrat69: It blows my mind that a girl like you doesn’t have guys lining up outside her door.
Tink24: A girl like me? What does that mean?
Riverrat69: Funny. Smart. Sexy as fuck.
Tink24: You’ve never seen me. How do you know I’m sexy?
Riverrat69: You can tell a lot from a girl’s hip . . . and the kind of panties she wears.
Tink24: Well, my looks have never been my problem. I’m not saying I’m a knockout, but there are always guys willing to sleep with me if that’s what I want.
Riverrat69: But you want . . . something more.
Tink24: I do. I won’t apologize for that. Why don’t you?
Riverrat69: I did once. It didn’t turn out like I’d hoped.
Tink24: What does that mean?
I squeeze my eyes shut, full aware of what a mind-fuck I’m putting myself through by having this conversation with Maybe Sam, trying to read too much into everything he says.
I exhale slowly and open my eyes to see the cursor still blinking at me—no reply from him. I should back down from my too-personal question.
Tink24: You don’t have to answer that.
