The Lonely Page 33
"Twenty-six." I say slowly. My brain is trying to wrap around it all. My twentieth birthday is in a week. He's six-years older than I am. Eli is five-years older. It's not creepy older but I still feel off about the lying.
I can't breathe very well processing it all. He takes another drink and instantly I notice he's drinking too fast. "You're driving right?" I ask.
He shakes his head, "No. I had someone come and get the car and put it in the parking under my building. I have a ride coming to get us later.
I don’t know how I feel. I don’t know where to put everything.
"Are you pissed?" He watches my face.
"About the car or the lies?"
He laughs. He looks at me and shakes his head, "I never told you I went to the school. I have never lied to you."
I point at him but my words get stuck. I sigh, "You knew I thought you went to school. I asked you how things were and you knew I meant classes. You knew."
"I did, but you seemed really comfortable with that idea and all I wanted was for you to be comfortable."
"I need to go to the bathroom." I walk away, before he grabs my arm and drags me to a corner to explain.
I glare at Shell. She runs off the dance floor, following me to the bathroom.
I almost wish we'd brought the paper bags, just in case of a moment like this. I feel like I don’t know him at all. I hate that.
"What?"
I cross my arms and look at myself in the mirror. "I do look like Tinkerbell."
She laughs, "You did not interrupt my rubbing against Vincent's massive erection for this conversation."
I snort and fake sob. I give her my best pathetic orphan face, "Sebastian doesn’t go to our school."
"I don’t understand."
"He's like twenty-six and owns a company and he's super successful."
"Are you complaining?"
"He lied Shell."
Her jaw drops, "How in the fuck do you keep scoring the hotties with the wallets. Damn. Girl, Vince doesn’t even have a car. Sebastian has a job already. He owns his shit. Vince wants to be a gym teacher and Stuart is a chauffeur. Your chauffeur."
My face is red. I grimace. I have no defense. She doesn’t see how much all those things are just things to me. They don’t belong in the world that I do, so I don’t notice them the same way she does. I don’t place value on them.
"He lied." I mutter again.
She throws her hands in the air, "OH MY GOD! HE LIED! YES, LET'S STRING HIM UP FOR TRYING TO CODDLE THE ORPHAN!" She turns to leave but looks back at me, "This is crackers dick. You don’t want to date him. You want to date Eli. He doesn’t stand a chance. You'll find something wrong with him no matter what. Like Pinterest says, 'Look at that bitch, eating her crackers and shit.' This is crackers." She storms out.
I look at my reflection and force myself to think about it. I want to end it and just walk away. It'll be his fault. I can make a clean break if he lied and he's to blame. I'd be able to walk away from the commitment and intimacy and still be free from the baggage I bring.
I nod at myself, "She's right." I walk out of the bathroom and stalk across the bar. It's one of those moments where you need a killer song and a hot pair of boots, to stomp across the bar with, to make the scene complete.
Unfortunately, the song is lame and I'm wearing ballet flats. I don’t let that take away from the strength and fearlessness I am exuding. I see his eyes widen when he sees me come across the bar at him. He sets down his drink, preparing.
But I do the unexpected. I grab his face and pull it down on mine. I suck him in with my kiss. His arms wrap around me, lifting me. My chest is crushed again his. His hands cup my ass, squeezing harder than I would have imagined him capable of. I moan into his mouth. His hands knead and massage.
He lets me go and I slide down his torso. He licks his lips and looks past me, "What the hell was in that bathroom?"
I laugh, "Common sense. I was in short supply."
He beams, "You okay?"
I scowl, "I'm not breakable. Stop coddling me because I'm an orphan."
He puts his hands in the air, "I swear, never again. In fact it's a bit of a relief. I can finally start acting like a dick around you." I laugh. His eyes sparkle like Santa and his manners are impeccable. He's perfect.
My thoughts are broken by the sound of shouts and cheering.
"Oh shit." He mutters. I spin and gasp. Michelle is on the bull in her bra and jeans. My hands are hovering at my mouth, in horror. I still can't touch my fingers to my lips in a public place, but that’s common flu season sense.
Michelle is bucking and riding the bull. Her fuchsia bra is bouncing up and down.
"Oh my god."
He's laughing. I can feel the vibration, "Wow." She is getting sloppy and laughing. Vince is cheering her on.
My face is red. I rip my phone out and send a text.
'Maybe you should get Stuart to come get Shell.'
'Call her Michelle. No. Stuart's hurt. I'm not doing that to him. We need to talk.'
'No. I'm hurt. I'm not doing that to me.'
I pocket my phone, "We should take her home."
He looks at my pocket, "Who was that?"
Pursing my lips, I sigh. "That was my benefactor. I haven’t been honest either. But we need to leave and take that with us." I point at her.
He laughs, "She's having fun. Mellow out. The bull rides are free and you win a prize if you take your shirt off."
His arm is against the wall, trapping me in.
I close my eyes and just get it out, "The guy who was there when I was little. The one who saved me. He's my benefactor. He takes care of me." I open one eye and watch his face. The loud music, and raucousness being caused by Shell, is annoying. I wish we were alone for this moment.
He looks like he's processing. He drinks a swig of beer, "Okay. I'm an adult who owns a company and you're a benefactor-having-orphan. Do you moonlight as a superhero?"
I shake my head.
He blinks a couple times and looks down on me, "Anything else?"
I chew my lip, shaking my head. I'm not telling him the rest. We will cross the dirty bitch bridge if he spanks me and gets a surprising reaction.
He bends and brushes his face against mine, "Was it him you were texting on all our dates and all the time?"
I nod and wait.
"Is it strictly financial? The two of you?"
I shake my head, "No. We're…uh…close." I don’t know how to tell him that we have PTSD sex and he spanks me, but that there is no relationship beyond misplaced intimacy and a bizarre friendship.
He's killing me with his processing and hot breath on my neck.
He stands up straight again and drinks another big gulp before he talks. "Okay. It's weird and I don’t know that I can ever understand. But I'm going to just trust you and that you and I are together."
I don’t have any response for him. I don’t know what we are.
Shell gets off the bull and grabs Vince. She plants a huge kiss on his lips and the bar erupts in a cheer. I smile. I don’t have a choice. Even if she's insane, I love her so much. I love her freedom. Nothing weighs more than a feather would in her mind.
She pulls on her shirt and grins at me. She nods at the bull. Instantly my cheeks are hot. I shake my head and pray she isn’t going to make a scene. She sees me shut it down and laughs. People are dancing and forgetting about the gorgeous topless girl who just rode the bull like a pro.
"Let me know when you're ready to go."
I force a smile across my face, I know it doesn’t reach my eyes. "Let's dance."
He looks at the dance floor and nods, "You sure?"
I grab his beer and put it on the bar and drag him to the dance floor. I happen to love the song playing. It's Don't Worry About the Child by Swedish House Mafia, and it's amazing. We dance without touching but then the next song comes on, Scream and Shout by Britney and Will.I.Am. My hips start to bounce on their own.
I understand the phrase booty pop. I'm popping mine. A trickle of sweat tickles its way down my back. The crowd of people surrounds me. It makes me nervous but we move together. We pause together. The music controls us all like marionettes. Hands grip at my hips, pulling me into him.
I glance back at Sebastian. His eyes are on fire. It makes me smile. My nerves get worse, but it isn’t the crowd. It's the hands pulling me backwards, into his groin. He grinds me against him to the beat. My arms are in the air. I wanna scream and shout too. I want him to make me scream and shout.
The slow part of the song hits. I reach back and grip my arms around his neck. His hands wrap around me, sliding against my belly but still pulling me into him. It's me moving my hips, grinding against him. The beat picks up again. I pull away and dance. It's fun. The girl next to me bumps into me. I wince, but let it go. My throat is thick with nerves, terror and the anticipation that is coming from the look in his eyes. I can see that he wants me.
It's the greatest panic attack I've ever had. He's not the most amazing dancer but he's there. His hands are in the air, making him look seven feet tall. He looks normal. Being at the bar with him is normal. It feels freeing until I catch myself looking at his shoulders and thinking about holding them while he's pinning me to a wall. He may be normal but I may never be.
He catches my glance and laughs, shaking his head. The song blends into Olly Murs, Troublemaker. I love this song. He points at me and mouths, "You are this girl."
I open my mouth offended, "Hey." He pulls me closer. The song is awesome just not sexy like Scream and Shout was, but it's fun. I glance at Shell and Vince dancing. He's an amazing dancer.
"Want to go?" Sebastian whispers into my neck. I give the moment pause to give the decision a fair amount of debate. Will I actually be able to sleep with him? No.