“Friendsdo all that?”
I shrugged, hoping he’d embrace my definition. There weren’t enough words in the English language to properly encapsulate the types of friends a person could have, and there wasn’t a word to describe Sam and me.
Believe me: Iwanteda word. A name, some structure, clear boundaries.
Sam smiled and pulled me against him. “What aboutReservoir Dogs?”
We stared at each other, no more than a few inches between us, and this moment was fluttering like a hummingbird, fast and frantic. We weren’t hanging out because we survived an elevator hostage crisis and felt some strange kinship. We weren’t drunk-flirting. Whatever this was, it was evolving. “Maybe tomorrow night.”
I pushed away from the wall, clutched Sam’s hand between both of mine, and marched toward the back room. I’d been to this venue enough to know it would be empty at this hour. It was dark and adequately private, and this was what he liked. It wasn’t as posh as Verdigris, but it would get the job done. I didn’t need to think; I knew exactly what I intended to do.
Sam was saying something as we entered the room, but I covered his mouth with my hand.
“Shh,” I said.
I dropped to my knees and fumbled with his belt, but his hands came around my wrists, stopping me. “No, Tiel.No.” Waves of discomfort rolled off his body, and if the tight bunch of his shoulders was any indication, he was slowly dying from mortification. He gasped, “I have to get out of here.”
He released my hands and bolted from the room.
I gulped down my embarrassment and blinked away the tears in my eyes. Easing back until I was crouched against the wall, I swallowed the pathetic whimper that threatened. “Okay,” I announced to the room. “So, that was awful.”
Any guy with a steady stream of girls sucking his dick should have been able to manage a graceful brush off, and I’d seen Sam send out plenty of disinterested vibes to women all night.
I just hadn’t noticed they were being aimed at me.
THERE WERE TOO many things happening at once.
I couldn’t breathe, the music was actually preventing me from hearing my thoughts, my cock was throbbing, and I was a fucking asshole.
Somewhere between a chick sticking her tongue down Tiel’s throat and now, I managed to tell her I didn’t want her. I hadn’t said those exact words, but the sentiment was clear.
The truth was, Ididn’twant Tiel sucking me off in the back of a grungy bar. I also wasn’t interested in a claustrophobia-induced panic attack from a room that resembled the season premiere ofHoarders.I was at least ninety percent certain I was getting E. coli from the air alone. Was it actually painted black or just that filthy?
This hadn’t happened in years. Small spaces didn’t send me over the edge the way they used to. It was one of the few victories I could claim in this battle. I mean, I survived that elevator fiasco. Mostly.
Bending at the waist, I anchored my hands on my knees and sucked in the crisp night air. I knew it was near freezing but the adrenaline was pumping too fast for the cold to register against my skin.
It wasn’t the cramped room, not entirely, but the jet engine roar inside my head wasn’t letting me put any of those fragments into a logical order.
“What is this all about? What’s wrong here?” She chuckled, and it wasn’t a joyful sound. “And this is what I do to men.”
Motherfucking shit almighty, why did she have to see this? I needed to stop falling the fuck apart while Tiel watched.
She fetched my glucose monitor from my pocket—not without grazing my cock, of course—and studied it, humming. “This seems low. Maybe you should eat something.”
Instead of answering, I stayed focused on breathing, and unearthed some of the old visualization techniques the school psychologist was so keen on teaching me. Beaches, lakes, woods, mountains. Think about those wide open spaces, the sounds of nature.
And Tiel.
She was rubbing my back, her hand moving in measured circles, strokes, and pats. When I was calm enough to notice, I knew without a doubt there was a song in her head.
“What are you playing?” I asked, my voice raspy. I’d trade my own blood for a gallon of water at this point.
She shoved her hands into her pockets and took an exaggerated step back. “The Fugees. ‘Guantanamera.’ Aaaaand now that you’re not dying on the sidewalk, it’s time for me to go.”
“Tiel, listen to me,” I said. I pulled her back to my chest and kissed her neck. “I fucked up this whole thing, and I want to explain, but I can barely think right now.”
“No, we’re fine,” she said, forcing a hollow laugh. “Nothing to explain.” She ran her hand through her hair and pushed away from me with another fake laugh. “I’m just really drunk and being stupid, and I shouldn’t have done any of this. I was totally wrong. I’m so sorry.”
