Now, here we are.
I’m leaving my ex’s house late at night after missing movie night with Lindsay and Jules. I certainly didn’t intend for tonight to unfold like this. I texted Lindsay when I left the bar that I’d be at her house by seven. That I’d bring pizza. She said she’d provide the popcorn. Jules was in charge of finding the newestJurassic Parkmovie on whatever streaming platform didn’t make you pay extra to watch it, and we were set to have lovely, cozy evening. Just me and my girls.
When I got to Gemma’s, I shoved my phone in my coat pocket, knowing I had an alarm set for six forty-five, so I’d have enough time to wash my hands and head to Lindsay’s house. I started working on her dryer, first checking and clearing out the vent, then using an air duster to clean out the lint trap. When that didn’t seem to fix anything, I started pulling the machine apart.
Gemma tried talking my ear off at first, asking questions about Lindsay and how our relationship was going. I have trouble focusing on two things at once, so I barely acknowledged her presence. Then she sat down next to me on the floor, and at one point, parted her legs so I had a clear view up her very short skirt, under which she was wearing nothing.
“What are you doing?” I asked with a shake of my head. “What is this?”
“What is what?” she replied innocently. When I let out an irritated sigh, she giggled. “Okay, fine. You want to know what this is? It’s me being abundantly clear about what I want.” She lifted the hem of her skirt, allowing the overhead light to shine directly onto her pussy. “I want to ride your face while you fuck my pussy with your tongue. Then I want you to lift me over your head, and slam me onto the kitchen counter so hard it leaves a crack in the marble. Then I want you to fuck me so hard that I can’t walk for the next three days. I want things to go back to the way they used to be with us. That’s what I want.”
My response was immediate. “Not happening. I’m with Lindsay. We’re happy. Discussion over.”
When she put her hand on my forearm and started to protest, I could also feel the signature tingle of her influence as a succubus, trying to pull me in. I lost my patience entirely. “Enough! Look, I’ve told you more than once that friendship is the only form ofusin our future. Now, do you want me to fixyour dryer or not? Because if you don’t leave me the fuck alone, I’m outta here.”
She held up her hands, looking surprisingly spooked, and backed out of the kitchen. By the time I had the motor on the floor next to the thermal fuse and determined neither had any damage to them, my phone was probably long dead. It must’ve taken at least another hour to get everything reassembled.
Nothing happened between us since I shut her down, but that won’t matter when I try to explain this to Lindsay. There’s something about Gemma that Lindsay doesn’t trust. I see her bristle when Gemma walks into the bar. The way she watches us with a scowl on her face. She really doesn’t want Gemma and I to remain friends. I get that she’s jealous. I even find it cute. If our situations were reversed, I can’t say I’d be comfortable with a random guy constantly hanging around Lindsay either.
When Gemma first started hanging around the bar again, I, too, assumed she was just trying to mess with my head. But when she put her hands on my chest and tried to kiss me one night after I locked up, I pushed her away and told her to cut the shit if she didn’t want to destroy our friendship. I told her that Lindsay is the love of my life, and we’re building something real. Something that’ll last, and that I’d be damned if anyone tried to get in the way of that.
Gemma looked hurt, even cried for a spell. When I refused to comfort her, it seemed to click. She promised that she’d respect what I have with Lindsay, and the two of us would be friends and nothing more.
After tonight, I don’t know. She broke her promise, and for that, she needs to be held accountable, but how? Does that warrant me cutting her out of my life? Do I ice her out as punishment for a month or two and see if she feels remorse? I still feel indebted to her for helping me create a life here, and I’d hate for our friendship to deteriorate over something this silly.
Admittedly, there’s also part of me that enjoyed working with my hands on the tasks Gemma asked me to help her with. Being handy is a skill I developed as a kid, when Mamaw couldn’t afford to hire people to fix things around her trailer. The only time I do mind is when I get so lost in the task itself that I lose track of time, especially when that means I stand up my girlfriend and her daughter.
My stomach twists when I pull into Lindsay’s driveway. The lights in the living room are still on, so I know she’s awake. I’m inclined to turn around and drive home, leaving this conversation for the morning, but the not stupid part of my brain knows it’s better to get it over with.
I trudge up the driveway and knock gently on the front door. When she opens the door, she looks strange. Not like herself. Her hair is in a messy bun, and she’s wearing loose pajama pants with one of my hoodies, but she’s pulling up the collar of the hoodie to block my view of the bottom half of her face. She quickly turns her back and ushers me inside.
“Jules is asleep, so we need to be quiet.” She turns off the lamp closest to her before sitting on the couch. The rest of the lights are on, except for the overhead light, of course. Again, strange. “So where were you? I was worried. I’ve been texting.” She leans forward to adjust herself and put a pillow on her lap, and in the dim light, I can see angry red spots on her forehead and around her nostrils.
The pieces of the puzzle snap into place, but this is no time to tell her what I know. First, I need her forgiveness.
I take her free hand in mine and stroke the back of it with my thumb. “I’m so sorry, Lindsay. I should’ve been here. I wanted to be. It’s just…I lost track of time. I set an alarm to make sure I’d be here for the movie, but my phone died because I forgot to charge it last night––”
“Where were you?”
I swallow. “I was trying to fix Gemma’s dryer.”
She tosses the pillow aside and starts pacing across the rug behind the couch. “Gemma,” she mutters quietly. “Of course you were with Gemma.”
I hold up my hands. “It’s not what you think. I truly was working on her dryer. I had the thing in pieces. We didn’t even talk that much.”
She rolls her eyes. “And when you were talking, what were you talking about?”
I should probably tell her the truth about the way Gemma came onto me, but what good would that do? Ultimately, I handled the situation the way I know Lindsay would’ve wanted me to, so I don’t see the need to upset her now for no reason. I might not be the brightest bulb in the bunch, but I’m notthatdim. “Nothing. I don’t know. She was talking, and I wasn’t really listening.”
Her mouth forms a straight, displeased line. She gives me a scathing look, then throws up her hands in defeat. Letting go of the collar, I can see several more red spots on her chin and along her jawline. She seems to realize a second later and yanks it back up to her nose once more. “Forget it. It’s not worth it.”
Now I’m getting pissed off. If we’re going to argue, I at least want to take part in the argument, yet Lindsay seems to be determining my punishment, and I don’t even get to state my case? Fuck that. “What’s not worth it?” The words she uses are what really get under my skin.Not worth it.Like the truth doesn’t matter, regardless of what it is. That’s not how I see this relationship, and it kills me that she might. To me, she’s worth everything. We’re wortheverything.
She scoffs. “I don’t want to fight with you about Gemma.”
“Well, I don’t want to fight with you either, but clearly something’s bothering you, and I don’t give a hoot if it’s about Gemma or not, I just want you to tell me.”
I watch her pace, her slippered feet stomping across the abstract pattern of the rug as if she’s trying to punish it for disappointing her. Her gait is naturally heavy, but it looks more like a model walk when she’s having a good day. Confident and unafraid to take up space. This is not that.
