Reminder to self: Never intoxicate the body with ludicrous amounts of beer, it isn’t worth it in the morning.
The sun has chosen today of all days to be particularly bright, and its piercing its way through my curtains and onto my bed, where I lie, still in last night’s clothes. Raising my wrist, I see it’s already two in the afternoon. Either somebody has spent the last sixteen hours smashing my head through glass, or I have a horrific hangover. Not to be presumptuous, but I’ll go for the latter.
Last night was horrible, just horrible. Well, what I remember of it, that is. I wasn’t planning to get trashed, it just sort of…happened. One minute I was staring at Sean and Cat’s intimate displays of affection, swats on the arm, suggestive glances being shared…you know the story, the next, I was looking into the bottom of my fifth bottle. The beers started coming in fast supply to our table, I started to spout a bunch of crap about…well, I don’t even know, and then the argument broke out.
I know I was being a dick last night. God, at one point I think I was even talking about how sit ups were annoying, but so worth it, and if memory serves, I even offered to show them ‘how effective they really were’ by raising my shirt. What was I thinking?
In my defense, Sean was no bed of roses last night either. He wasn’t as sober as he should’ve been on a date, and started to cram all these accusations down my throat. Why does he have to have an opinion on everything? Can’t he ever just hear something, shrug and forget about it? Evident by last night, no. The guy is such a pompous jackass, and that is by the standards of a spoilt pop star. It was almost gratifying to finally give him a piece of my mind last night.
But no matter how satisfying it was to relieve myself of my hatred for Sean, I’ll never forget the look on Cat’s face when she saw how we were behaving. It was mostly her angry face, which is coincidently quite funny, where she narrows her eyes and pouts like some diva not getting her way. But I didn’t miss the slight tremble to her glossy lips and the tears forming in her eyes, just before she furiously spun around and left the restaurant.
It made me feel like shit on the spot. How could I do that to her? She’s practically one of my best friends, why didn’t I at least try to get on with Sean, before drinking myself into an arrogant oblivion? I know why, it’s because I’m a terrible friend. I will forever be the yardstick to which other unsupportive and horrible friends will be measured to see whether they are just as unsupportive and horrible as I am. If I ever release an autobiography, I would probably have to call it, Confessions of an Asshole.
I ignore the throbbing in my temple and jump off the bed, ready to march into Cat’s room and do some serious groveling. I pound on her door, mentally thinking up excuses for my behavior. Cat, I was temporarily deranged last night because I have this thing where once a month I turn into an alcoholic psycho. Jesus, makes me sound like some kind of werewolf. No, no, that won’t do. Cat, I didn’t want to get drunk last night, but I felt I had to so Sean wouldn’t be the only one at the table who was an arrogant asshole. Hmm, maybe now isn’t the time to insult him.
Cat, the easiest thing to do last night was get completely drunk, because it somewhat smothered the aching feeling of jealousy I feel every time I see you and that man together.
No.
I continue to pound on the door, ready to break it down if I have to. I know chicks are really into that whole ignoring thing, but I’m not in the mood to deal with shit like that at the moment.
“Cat!” I call, hammering my fist against the wood a few more times. “Cat! Open up!”
“She’s not in there, dumbass,” says a voice behind me.
I turn around to see the cocky shit that is Trace leaning against the wall, eating a sandwich. “Well, where is she?”
He grins and pretends to zip his mouth closed. “Can’t say. Big secret.”
“Trace, quit trying to be cute,” I retort with a roll of my eyes. Hey, I’m hung over. I’m allowed to be short tempered.
He shrugs. “Sorry, man. She left early this morning because she knew you two would come crawling back to her,” he says, grinning. “But she was still really pissed and didn’t want to see either of you, so she sought sanctuary elsewhere.”
“What?” I scrunch up my eyes to show my confusion. “She went to church?”
“Does that sound like something Cat would do?” Trace snorts.
I grin. “Exactly. So where is she?”
“I’m not allowed to tell you, dude. Her exact words were, ‘if either asshole tries to get near me, tell them to go and screw themselves’.”
“And she says I need to grow up,” I mutter, rolling my eyes at the phrase, ‘screw themselves’.
Trace’s look suddenly turns stern. “Justin, don’t even try it. What you did last night was completely unacceptable.”
“Sean did it too!” I exclaim indignantly, stomping my foot in a very elementary school-ish way. I ignore the half of my brain which says Cat has a point.
“Yeah, but you were being such a dick, you had it coming,” he says simply.
“Thanks Trace, I know I can always count on you for loyalty,” I sulk.
“You know you can. I’m always on your side, J,” he says sincerely, his eyes softening with disappointment. “But this time, even I can’t make excuses for you.”
His words drive straight through my chest. “I know,” I whisper, looking down into my hands.
He sighs. “Don’t worry about it, we’ll sort it out.”
I nod, still looking into my hands, which are twisting themselves together. “Do you think Cat’s really angry?” I ask timidly.
“Yes.”
I let go of my hands and lean against the wall. “Great, just fantastic,” I mutter sarcastically.
He claps my shoulder with his hand. “Don’t worry, she’ll forgive you. I think she just needs a day away from us guys.”
I cock my head to the side to look at him. “So you’re not going to tell me where she went?“
“Nope,” he says simply, taking the final bite of his sandwich. “But she’ll be back tonight.”
“I’m not surprised she hasn’t tried to move out,” I mumble.
“So am I,” he replies bluntly, making me feel that little more like crap.
“I’m going to go look for her,” I announce, moving towards my room to take shower and remove the clothes that reek of cigarette smoke and sweat.
It’s a risky plan, but if I go and look for Cat and do some serious pleading, there is the slimmest chance she’ll be flattered and forgive me. Of course, there is a chance she’ll slap me in the face and tell me exactly where to go, but that is a risk I am more than willing to take. I just can’t bear the thought that somewhere out there, she’s upset because of me. I don’t want to be the person who makes her sad, I want to be the person she goes to when some other asshole has done something to her. I want to be the one who comforts her. I want to be the one to say that everything will be okay. I want to be the one who wraps her up in a huge hug and doesn’t let go.
Suddenly, the ring of the doorbell causes me to jump away from the wall. “Maybe that’s her!” I exclaim, hopping down the stairs two at a time and skidding across the floor a la Tom Cruise style to reach the door.
I swing the door open, a broad grin on my face, ready to welcome her home and offer to watch some Friends.
My smile drops instantly. Not him.
“Justin,” he says curtly, nodding his head at me.
“Sean,” I reply, equally as curt, eyeing over his disheveled look. He’s obviously as hungover as I am. His usually zesty, thick black hair is slightly matted and he’s not carrying himself with quite the same cocky manner. How the mighty have fallen.
He sighs. “Look, before I do anything else, I’m sorry about last night. I was out of line.”
“So was I,” I reply, realizing I’m not looking my hottest either. It takes one hell of a sex beast to pull off bloodshot eyes and pale skin. “I don’t know what got into me.” Actually, I do. It was the combination of my hatred for you and some rather intoxicating Coronas.
He shrugs. “We were both drunk and acted like assholes.”
Speak for yourself, prick. “Exactly,” I reply, forcing my lips into some sort of sheepish smile as I mentally build up an elaborate plan of telling him to piss off and leave Cat alone, before slamming the door in his painfully handsome face.
“So, is Cat in?” he asks, looking slightly over my shoulder.
My jaw clenches. “No, she’s not.”
His brow crinkles. “Oh…where is she?”
“I don’t know,” I admit, tiredly running a hand over my face as the sunlight starts to attack my eyes. “She upped and left this morning before I woke up. Apparently she doesn’t want either of us to bother her.”
“Shit,” he mutters under his breath, hanging his head for a second. “So you don’t know where she went?”
Didn’t I just say that? I bite the smart ass, sarcastic comment begging to leap off my lips. “No,” I say as sweetly as I can.
He drops his heads into his hands and for a second, my hard-ass demeanor fades and I begin to feel sorry for the bastard.
“Hey, don’t worry about it,” I reassure him, reaching out to touch his shoulder. “She’ll have forgotten about it when she gets back.”
He looks up at me, those green eyes holding a painful expression. “I know. I just really…care about her, I guess. I hate knowing I upset her,” He sighs and shakes his head slightly, as though he’s being crushed by the disappointment in himself.
Guilt pours through me as I see him battling with his emotions. I didn’t realize an argument between the two of them would effect him so badly.
“Sean, don’t you worry about things one bit,” I say earnestly, trying to ignore the pain running through my heart as I hand over my plan to him. “Why don’t you go look for her?”
“But you said she didn’t want to be disturbed.”
I shrug. “I think she’d appreciate it. You know how women are, they say no but they mean yes, yada yada ya.”
He smirks. “Very true.” His smile drops. “But I wouldn’t even know where to begin looking for her.”
I do. There’s only one place a pissed off female would go, and that’s to another female. It’s a guess, but she’s probably over at Diane’s right now, bitching about men and their egos.
But why would I want to tell Sean that? Why would I want him to take credit for my idea? Why would I want him to be the one who she thinks is the greatest guy in the world for going out of his way to apologize? I want to be the greatest guy in the world to her.
But as I look at Sean, with his undeniable good looks and eyes that are just so goddamn twinkly, even when he has a hangover, I know he’s already pulled ahead of me in the race. How can I compete with him? He’s everything Cat could ever want; he’s good-looking, incredibly clever, working in the same field as she is…the list goes on and on. I‘m just a guy she met just over five months ago in the grocery store. I’m a good friend, sure, but Sean is her match made in heaven . As long as he’s in her life, I’ll never be the greatest guy.
And it’s killing me.
“Go to Diane’s,” I whisper softly, an aching feeling passing through my chest as I advise him against my will. “If she says she doesn’t want to see you, keep persisting, she won’t refuse you long.”
Sean’s eyes widen. “Thanks man!” he exclaims, his mournful look vanishing and placed by one of excitement. “I really appreciate it.”
I nod. “And you might wanna buy her chocolates or something before you go,” I add.
He nods animatedly. “Okay, thanks a lot Justin.”
He spins on his heel and rushes out to his car, nervously slamming his keys into the ignition, as though he just can’t wait to apologize to her. I think he loves her.
And I think I do too.
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“If I were a lesbian, things would just be so much easier,” I mumble through a mouthful of nachos.
Diane snorts and refills our pretzel bowl. “I know. Men are so inconsiderate to the feelings of others.”
“Exactly!” I exclaim, ignoring the nagging feeling which tells me Diane is only saying what I want to hear. “No matter how much I hate Natasha, I would never, never pick an argument like that with her.”
Diane nods. “I know. Men are assholes,” she says simply, shrugging. “And there’s nothing we can do to change it.”
“We could always lock them all up and merely extract sperm when we need it,” I offer, dipping a nacho into the salsa.
Diane laughs. “We’ve got it all figured out, haven’t we?”
I shrug and grin, quickly scooping my hair into a messy, and presumably unattractive, bun. “You know, they’re actually kind of similar.”
“How?” she asks.
“They’re both incredibly arrogant,” I mutter darkly, rolling my eyes. “They both think they’re the shit, and they both act like children.”
“Honey,” says Diane sympathetically. “That’s not Sean and Justin, that’s all men.”
“Too true,” I mumble dejectedly, surveying the comfort food Diane magically produced in front of me. “I’m not overreacting, am I?”
She shakes her head. “They could have at least tried to get on. For your sake, if not theirs.”
I lean back and rub my eyes, before looking back at the table. “We’re running low on chocolate,” I say simply.
Diane laughs. “Want me to head down to the store and get some more?”
I nod. “I would go myself, but I don’t plan on moving at all today.”
She grins and picks up her coat. “Okay, I’ll be back in a minute.”
Just as she’s about to turn the knob on the door, there’s a sharp rap on the wood. We look at each other questioningly.
“Joseph?” I mouth.
She shakes her head. “Mother’s house,” she mouths back, rolling her eyes.
I giggle, before realization hits me. What if it’s Justin or Sean? Trace was given strict orders not to tell them where I was, and I know he wouldn’t back out on his word. “I’m not here,” I whisper, before quickly slipping into the peach bathroom and pressing my ear against the door.
“Oh!” I hear her exclaim, feigning surprise. “Hi.”
“Hey,” replies a smooth voice which can only belong to one person. “How are you, Diane?”
“I’m good, Sean. Yourself?”
“Not so good.”
Serves him right, the argumentative bastard. What is he even doing here? How did I know where I was?
“I’m gonna cut to the chase here, Di. Is Cat hiding behind the sofa?”
Diane laughs. “No. Check under the comforter.”
He laughs and I can hear footsteps. Did she let him in? What the hell happened to sisterhood?
Groaning, I open the door and step out of the bathroom, seeing Sean before me in with a smile on his face and flowers in his hand. “Hey,” I mumble.
“Hi,” he says softly.
Ignoring what are obviously the remains of a hangover, I glance at his appearance. He doesn’t look as clean as he usually does, in jeans and a green t-shirt, exposing some of his muscular arm. His cheeks have the slightest stubble on them, accompanied by dark eyes, staring hopefully at me. He looks sort of...ruggedly sexy. Bastard.
He holds out the flowers to me. “A feeble peace offering,” he grins sheepishly.
I smile back despite myself and accept them. “Thank you.”
He sighs and digs his hands into his pockets, something I’ve often seen Justin do. “I can’t apologize enough.”
I look down into the mass of petals and remain silent.
“I just started to say stuff without even thinking. I know I was being judgmental, I know I shouldn’t have done it,” he says wearily, rubbing his eyes. “And I know I’m really, really sorry. It won’t happen again.”
I glance up at him. “I hope it doesn’t.”
He draws a cross over his heart. “Promise.”
I feel my wall crumbing already as he slowly inches his way towards me. Before I know it, his face is inches from mine, his lips waiting for some sort of permission before they meet mine.
Placing my hand on the back of his head, I slowly pull him towards me, fusing our mouths together. I wrap my arms around his neck and feel his hands slip into their usual place around my waist as I shuffle as close to him as I can. Damn, I'm easy.
“Let’s go home,” I whisper against his lips.
He nods, before suddenly turning to Diane, who is smirking in the corner.
“Are you two quite finished?” she asks, her grin never leaving her face.
I blush and pull away from him. How did I manage to forget we had a spectator? “I’d better head back now. Thanks for everything.”
She nods and pulls me into a hug. “I’ll see you later, chicky.”
Her and Sean exchange a brief goodbye before Sean and I step into his car. “Where to, baby?” he asks, grinning.
I quickly check the time to see it‘s approaching six, much to my surprise. “Let’s go back to my place. Trace will be wondering why I’ve been away so long.”
Sean nods and swerves around to head towards my house. Within minutes, we arrive at the mansion Justin once branded, ‘kinda small’, on my first visit.
I almost groan. How does he always manage to sneak back into my thoughts?
“Here we are,” Sean announces, bounding across to my side of the car to open my door for me.
We walk up the little path to the front door. “Are you going to come in?” I ask over my shoulder as I put the key in the lock.
Suddenly, I feel his breath against my neck. “If you want me to,” he whispers.
I blush but keep my mouth shut, instead taking his hand and leading him inside.
"Hey, lovebirds," greets Trace.
I giggle. "Hey."
“I take it you two have made up,” says Trace, closing the door to the games room behind him.
I grin. “Yeah, we have.” I look behind him. “Where’s Justin?”
He shrugs. “He went out a few hours ago. Trying to think of a way to make it up to you,” he says, rolling his eyes.
I laugh. “Well, he’s forgiven, I’ve decided.”
“He’ll be happy to hear that,” says Trace, his gaze dropping to me and Sean’s firm grasp on each other. “Anyway, I’m gonna go and meet up with some old high school buddies. You guys interested in coming?”
I shrug and shake my head. “No thanks. Have a good time, though.”
“Thanks,” he says, running a hand through his hair. “How do I look, by the way?”
“Fantastic!” I exclaim enthusiastically, fluttering my eyelashes.
Trace laughs and gives me a quick hug before turning to Sean. “Good to see you guys back on track.”
“Thanks, man,” Sean replies, and they share one of those ‘man hugs’, where they’re too embarrassed to fully touch each other. Very amusing.
After saying goodbye to Trace, I settle down on the couch with Sean to watch some awful film that we end up ripping to pieces. Halfway through it, my eyes begin to droop. It’s strange how about seven hours of man-hating can drain a girl. Curling up against Sean, I allow sleep to take over me.
When I wake up, I feel Sean’s warm chest pressing into my back and a protective arm around my waist. Smiling, I check to see he is still sleeping before cautiously trying to remove his arm from me without waking him.
Suddenly, his grip tightens and I’m pulled back down into the depths of the couch. Giggling, I turn to see a grin adorning his face but with his eyes still closed and his long eyelashes ticking his cheeks, making him the picture of innocence.
“Sean, don’t even pretend you’re asleep.”
He bites his lip to stop from laughing but doesn’t reply.
“Sean,” I being in a warning tone, trying to keep the laughter down myself. “Open those green emeralds of yours or I’ll tell everyone you’re afraid of masking tape.”
He laughs and finally opens his eyes. “It’s going to be the cause of the demise of America.” He sits up, peering at me inquisitively. “And did you just call my eyes green emeralds?”
I giggle. “I did.”
Just as he’s about to throw some wise ass comment towards me, his eyes travel to the clock lying on the table beside us. “Shit! It’s already eleven.”
I glance at my watch. “Oh yeah. I wonder whether Justin is home yet.” Peering out of the window, I don’t see a car parked outside of the garage and the worry starts to build in the pit of my stomach. My mind begins to fabricate a tale of how he was involved in an awful crash and ended up in hospital, on life support.
Trace suddenly appears in the doorway, casting a look at our tangled bodies on the couch and raising an eyebrow. “I see you guys have woken up.”
“Where’s Justin?” I ask immediately, my futile attempt to hide my panic failing miserably.
“He just called to say he’s got a flat tire. He’s gonna be back around midnight or something.”
I breathe out a sigh of relief. “Want me to wait up for him?”
Trace shakes his head. “No, I’ll do it. You can just head up to bed, if you want.”
I nod and turn to Sean. “I’d better go too,” he says, running a hand through his hair.
“Or,” I begin hesitantly, playing with a thread from a cushion. “You could stay here tonight,” I murmur almost inaudibly.
From the corner of my eye, I can see a smile creep onto his face. “If that’s what you want,” he says.
How did I know I wasn’t going to get through this conversation without blushing? “Only if you wanna,” I mutter, averting my gaze to the ceiling.
I feel a trail of kisses being gently planted on my shoulder and smile slightly. Of course I want him to stay. He’s gorgeous, although I’ve never seen his body without clothes, I’m expecting nothing less than spectacular, and hey, I haven’t had sex in a year at least.
But to be honest, sex isn’t really my thing. I don’t dislike it, but it was never the jaw dropping experience everyone made it out to be. I have no doubt it’s my fault. I’m a thoroughly unadventurous girl who would rather hang herself than indulge in even a little light ‘dirty talk’, because the concept just seems too hilarious for words. Do I look like the type of person who is going to say, 'Ooh yeah baby, put that hunk of meat inside of me'? And don’t even get me started on the whole naked thing. Voluntarily exposing my body for another human being’s amusement? Not fun.
But we’ve been in this relationship for a while now. I feel relatively comfortable with him. Of course, the light will stay off and I’ll probably not enjoy it because I’ll get so nervous, but I do care about him, and I want him to know it.
I hold my hand out to Sean and wordlessly led him up the stairs to my bedroom. Shutting the door behind him, his eyes trail over my body, immediately making me feel self-conscious. Without warning, his lips suddenly attack mine, causing me to stagger back slightly in surprise.
I can feel his hands creeping up my shirt and skirting over the skin on my stomach, before slipping around to the small of my back and pressing me against him. He starts to walk us back, his destination clearly my bed. My feet almost trip over themselves as I walk backwards, but his firm grip on my back lets me know he won’t let me fall.
He gently lays me down on the red sheets and stands over me, his face lit only by the small lamp on my bedside table. The golden glow across his features suddenly makes me want him, but I can’t help the nervous, fluttery feeling in my stomach. What if I’m not good enough for him? What if he doesn’t want to once he’s sees me without my clothes shielding all my unattractive parts? The idea alone is enough to make me want to stop.
“You are so beautiful,” he whispers softly.
My breath catches in my throat as I stare at him. I don’t think I’ve ever been called beautiful. Even in the dark ages when I was dating Matthew, or any other of my ‘great’ boyfriend choices, I was always just pretty, or fine, but now, I’m beautiful. In his eyes, at least.
He swoops down on me, kissing me softly as he unbuttons my shirt and leaves my lips to bless the newly exposed skin. I close my eyes and start to concentrate on the growing anticipation in my stomach. For the first time in my months, I don't feel nervous, or insecure, or not good enough. I don't think about Justin, Natasha, how different I'm sure Natasha's body is from mine...none of that matters, because someone thinks I'm beautiful.
It only occurred to me later, when I was wrapped up in Sean’s strong arms after a receiving pleasure I didn’t know was possible to feel, that it was the first time in months Justin hadn’t once entered my thoughts.
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Fucking mechanics. They just haven’t got a clue, have they?
Fuckers.
Standing, looking like a complete dick as people honked at me, as I waited for the fucking mechanic to come and fix the car, it occurred to me this is possibly the worst day of my life.
I hate feeling confused. I don’t know how I feel about Cat. I don’t know how she feels about me. I just know I really have to talk to her.
I quickly unlock the door and enter the house, knowing she was home thanks to Trace, and praying she was still awake. The only light I can see is from the kitchen, and I can hear the slight buzz of a TV.
Trace is sitting on the table, eating a pie and laughing at what appears to be Will and Grace.
“They’re just like you and Cat, you know that?”
“Which would make you Jack,” I snort, entering the kitchen and placing my bag carefully on the table.
“How’s the car?” asks Trace, turning down the volume on the television.
I roll my eyes. “I would have been quicker just fixing it myself. Mechanics are idiots.”
“Of course they are,” he says simply, hopping off the table and placing his bowl in the sink. “What’s in the bag?”
I look at the brown bag sitting on the table and smile. “A present for Cat. Something to say I’m sorry.”
“She said you were forgiven.”
I shrug. “Well, it’s just a nice gesture then.”
“What is it?” he asks, peering into the bag.
“Well, I spent so long wondering what Cat would actually like as a gift, I realized the shops were closing and I still didn’t have anything. So, I thought of what she’d hate,” I say, grinning. “It was much easier, actually.”
He smiles and pulls out the stuffed animal. “A toy cat?”
“Of course.”
He laughs and turns over the toy in his hands. “That’s cute. She’ll like that.”
I nod. “I’m gonna go up and give it to her now, if she’s still awake.”
“I wouldn’t do that…” begins Trace.
I pause. “Why not? I really have to talk to her about something.” I don’t even know what I’m going to say, but I know I have to say it.
“No, I really don’t think you should go into her room.”
I frown. “Why not?”
“Because she’s not alone. Sean stayed over.”
I drop the toy as a sharp pain sears it’s way through my chest. No, not now. Not when I’ve realized how much I care for her, how much I want to be with her…
How much I love her.
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