Page 12
Story: Wreck Me
Ten minutes later, I’m grabbing the keys to my SUV, and we’re heading outside.
“You gonna tell me where we’re goin’?”
“Want to take me to that sex club?”
“Are you insane? No. Plus, I’m still within the probationary period, and I can’t vet guests yet.”
I can feel his eyes on me as I drive, and I know he won’t let this go. I can’t say that I don’t get it. Who doesn’t want to check out a high-end sex club if they have the opportunity? If I hadn’t been so lust-struck by Carter, I would be making that place my own personal playground.
“I expect that no to change to a yes once you can. We’remeeting some friends at a new place that just opened, and thought you’d want to check it out.”
Called it. Trey navigates, and after a ten-minute drive, I pull into the parking lot of a new speakeasy,The Whispering Well, written on an old-school sign on the side of a brick building. A hostess lights up when we walk in, the real reason for us being here making more sense.
“Hey, Ana, how is your night?”
“Hi, Trey. It’s better now. Seat for two?”
“Actually, we’re meeting some friends. I think they’re already here. A group of them?”
“Yes, rowdy bunch? I’ll take you to them.”
I watch as they flirt for a moment, Trey on his game, before she weaves us through the open dining area. Plush, velvet, high-back booths are scattered around the walls of a floor that’s raised higher. My eyes track a small set of stairs that lead to tables on the lower floor. A stage is in front of us with a band gearing up to play. I can’t help but pick up every detail, and I’m impressed with the thought that went into the place. They should do well, and I hope the area can keep them in business.
Two men look our way and lift up their drinks as we approach, but it’s the one who doesn’t that makes me nearly trip over my own feet. I drop an elbow to hit Trey in the ribs, making him wince.
“Are you fucking serious? This isn’t happening.” I go to turn around, but he grabs my arm in protest.
“Dude, I didn’t know he’d be here, but it’s gonna look real fucking shitty if you walk out now that they’ve seen you.”
Fuck. When I decided to make the move west of Seattle to work at this office permanently, I knew there would be a chance of running into him since he returned to this area after med school. I’ve been lucky the last few months until now. This is just what I need.
I stare at the photo on my screen as I bounce my leg in the back of the Uber, ready to get home. My trip to Coos Bay, Oregon, lasted two weeks, and it’s the longest time I’ve had to be away before. I love traveling, but I like being home more when I have someone waiting for me. Nick smiles back at me on the screen, and I can’t wait to get back to him. He’s never too upset when I leave, but I can’t stand the distance it puts between us.
Pulling up in front of the apartment that my dad rents for me—a place too large, and too fancy for my taste, but, Nick loves it and I “need to keep up appearances”—I quickly pay my driver on the app, grab my bags and jump out of the car. I’m eager to get to Nick. Even though he’s never stayed the night with me, even though I persist, he stays at my penthouse when I’m away because he lives in a shared apartment with two roommates while he finishes med school. He says he needs full commitment before he can stay the night with someone, which I’ve always respected, no matter how often I’ve found myself not wanting to be alone anymore. We’ve been together for almost a year, and I’m finally ready to tell him how I feel. That’s why I had to come home early. I couldn’t wait another day without telling him that I love him and that I want to move forward in our relationship.
The elevator stops at damn near every floor to let people off. My heart is in my throat with anticipation while I wait until it finally reaches the top. I’m out the door with my duffel thrown over my shoulder before the doors can completely open.
I rush down the hallway and set my bag down outside the door, wanting to surprise him and wanting my hands to be free. I quietly unlock the door, and dread immediately washes over me. My spine straightens as bile rises in my throat. Moans fill the space of my apartment, one of which I faintly recognize, but he’s never sounded so . . . vocal with me. Our sex lifehas always been very monotonous, but I just assumed it was because of our inexperience and how tired he always says he is.
I walk through the house, steeling myself for what I already know I’m going to find. Each breath I take feels like shards of glass going down my windpipe, a grasp so tight on my chest that taking each step takes an obscene amount of effort. I follow the noises to my bedroom, the door left wide open. My boyfriend is hammering into a guy I’ve met before, someone who he said was just a friend. Clearly not.
My mind blanks as everything kind of goes black.
“This is how you spend your time while I’m gone?”
“Shit! Finn! What are you doing back?”
“That’s your response? That’s the first thing you want to say?”
They scramble apart, everything moving in slow motion. I’ve seen these scenes in movies, where everyone moves quickly and frantically, apologies are thrown, people scream and yell. That’s not how this plays out.
“What do you want me to say, Finn?”
“You’re in my apartment, Nick, fucking someone who’s not me, I’d say you should say a whole helluva lot more than what you have so far. Just get out. I want you to leave.”
“Finn, we don’t have to be over. I just need more than what you’re giving me.”
My dad’s voice rings out in my head, reminding me that I’m a fuckup, that I’ll always be a fuckup, that I’ll never be good enough for anyone. Maybe he’s right.
“You gonna tell me where we’re goin’?”
“Want to take me to that sex club?”
“Are you insane? No. Plus, I’m still within the probationary period, and I can’t vet guests yet.”
I can feel his eyes on me as I drive, and I know he won’t let this go. I can’t say that I don’t get it. Who doesn’t want to check out a high-end sex club if they have the opportunity? If I hadn’t been so lust-struck by Carter, I would be making that place my own personal playground.
“I expect that no to change to a yes once you can. We’remeeting some friends at a new place that just opened, and thought you’d want to check it out.”
Called it. Trey navigates, and after a ten-minute drive, I pull into the parking lot of a new speakeasy,The Whispering Well, written on an old-school sign on the side of a brick building. A hostess lights up when we walk in, the real reason for us being here making more sense.
“Hey, Ana, how is your night?”
“Hi, Trey. It’s better now. Seat for two?”
“Actually, we’re meeting some friends. I think they’re already here. A group of them?”
“Yes, rowdy bunch? I’ll take you to them.”
I watch as they flirt for a moment, Trey on his game, before she weaves us through the open dining area. Plush, velvet, high-back booths are scattered around the walls of a floor that’s raised higher. My eyes track a small set of stairs that lead to tables on the lower floor. A stage is in front of us with a band gearing up to play. I can’t help but pick up every detail, and I’m impressed with the thought that went into the place. They should do well, and I hope the area can keep them in business.
Two men look our way and lift up their drinks as we approach, but it’s the one who doesn’t that makes me nearly trip over my own feet. I drop an elbow to hit Trey in the ribs, making him wince.
“Are you fucking serious? This isn’t happening.” I go to turn around, but he grabs my arm in protest.
“Dude, I didn’t know he’d be here, but it’s gonna look real fucking shitty if you walk out now that they’ve seen you.”
Fuck. When I decided to make the move west of Seattle to work at this office permanently, I knew there would be a chance of running into him since he returned to this area after med school. I’ve been lucky the last few months until now. This is just what I need.
I stare at the photo on my screen as I bounce my leg in the back of the Uber, ready to get home. My trip to Coos Bay, Oregon, lasted two weeks, and it’s the longest time I’ve had to be away before. I love traveling, but I like being home more when I have someone waiting for me. Nick smiles back at me on the screen, and I can’t wait to get back to him. He’s never too upset when I leave, but I can’t stand the distance it puts between us.
Pulling up in front of the apartment that my dad rents for me—a place too large, and too fancy for my taste, but, Nick loves it and I “need to keep up appearances”—I quickly pay my driver on the app, grab my bags and jump out of the car. I’m eager to get to Nick. Even though he’s never stayed the night with me, even though I persist, he stays at my penthouse when I’m away because he lives in a shared apartment with two roommates while he finishes med school. He says he needs full commitment before he can stay the night with someone, which I’ve always respected, no matter how often I’ve found myself not wanting to be alone anymore. We’ve been together for almost a year, and I’m finally ready to tell him how I feel. That’s why I had to come home early. I couldn’t wait another day without telling him that I love him and that I want to move forward in our relationship.
The elevator stops at damn near every floor to let people off. My heart is in my throat with anticipation while I wait until it finally reaches the top. I’m out the door with my duffel thrown over my shoulder before the doors can completely open.
I rush down the hallway and set my bag down outside the door, wanting to surprise him and wanting my hands to be free. I quietly unlock the door, and dread immediately washes over me. My spine straightens as bile rises in my throat. Moans fill the space of my apartment, one of which I faintly recognize, but he’s never sounded so . . . vocal with me. Our sex lifehas always been very monotonous, but I just assumed it was because of our inexperience and how tired he always says he is.
I walk through the house, steeling myself for what I already know I’m going to find. Each breath I take feels like shards of glass going down my windpipe, a grasp so tight on my chest that taking each step takes an obscene amount of effort. I follow the noises to my bedroom, the door left wide open. My boyfriend is hammering into a guy I’ve met before, someone who he said was just a friend. Clearly not.
My mind blanks as everything kind of goes black.
“This is how you spend your time while I’m gone?”
“Shit! Finn! What are you doing back?”
“That’s your response? That’s the first thing you want to say?”
They scramble apart, everything moving in slow motion. I’ve seen these scenes in movies, where everyone moves quickly and frantically, apologies are thrown, people scream and yell. That’s not how this plays out.
“What do you want me to say, Finn?”
“You’re in my apartment, Nick, fucking someone who’s not me, I’d say you should say a whole helluva lot more than what you have so far. Just get out. I want you to leave.”
“Finn, we don’t have to be over. I just need more than what you’re giving me.”
My dad’s voice rings out in my head, reminding me that I’m a fuckup, that I’ll always be a fuckup, that I’ll never be good enough for anyone. Maybe he’s right.
Table of Contents
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