by Kahlen Aymes
The triumphant look on Whitney’s face disgusted Cole. He, who used to pick up chicks and fuck their brains out for no other reason than they were in front of him, found Alex’s actions abhorrent.
“Think about what you’re doing, Alex. You’re pissed off right now and out of your mind.”
“Pissed? Is that what I am?” He emptied his glass and began pouring again. “I’m tired of thinking,” Alex said. “It’s time I did something other than feel like shit.”
“You’ll work things out with Ang—”
Alex threw up his hand and stopped Cole. “Don’t say that name to me. Ever again! How can I trust you, anyway? You lied to me about staying with her.”
Everything began to blur—the room, the music, and his intentions—as the large quantity of scotch finally buzzed his mind slightly, but he was still way too lucid for his own comfort. He closed his eyes and still he saw large, liquid brown eyes, flowing dark auburn hair, and he swore to God he could smell the sweet and musky scent of her perfume mixed with sex, feel her luscious curves pressed warmly against the hardness of his body, and hear her voice breathing out his name when he made her come.
“Jesus Christ!” Alex muttered, shaking his head in disgust.
He threw back the drink and stood up from the chair, taking Whitney’s hand in his again as Angel’s voice blended with Kyle’s in a softer song. He was determined to do whatever he needed to forget, even if it ripped his heart out in the process. “Let’s get out of here.”
* * *
Alex followed Whitney into the apartment and the door closed behind him. His eyes didn’t recognize his surroundings; the alcohol and his pounding head blurred his vision. The events of the night still in effect, he clawed at the pain in his chest. It hurt and he was hot, despite the drop in temperature. Sweat broke out on his upper lip, and he wiped the back of his hand across his forehead and then his mouth.
“Do you want a drink, sweetie?” Whitney cooed.
His stomach turned, and he tried to swallow the tightness in his throat, bile rising until the sour taste laced his mouth. Alex shook his head, stumbling into the living room and falling into a large chair. It was fluffy and over-exaggerated—not his taste at all.
“Uh-uh. No more. I shouldn’t even be here,” he mumbled, more to himself than to her.
Whitney’s low laughter fell around him in the small space. For the first time, he registered that this was not the apartment he’d paid for, though some of the furnishings were familiar.
“Of course you should, silly. I’ll take care of you. Just like before.” She dropped to her knees in front of him, her fingers closing around his thighs and raking upward toward his hips and groin.
Alex cringed. She never took care of him. She’d only slaked his lust. These were not the hands he wanted. His eyes closed, head dropping back as he remembered Angel on that damn stage with Kyle. She was so beautiful, ethereal, and untouchable… by him at least. Kyle has no problem touching her. Heat seared in his gut and pain pierced his heart. Just forget her. She’s killing you. Forget her any way you can.
His head snapped up as he forced his eyes open, trying to bring Whitney’s face into focus. Her lips were too red, her voice too shrill, her body too skinny, and those plastic, out-of-proportion tits poked toward him as if in some absurd 3-D film. Alex’s lips lifted in a sardonic smirk and he almost laughed out loud. He should just let her suck him off and try to forget his world had been reduced to a series of torturous lifetimes punctuated by a few blissful, mind-blowing moments.
He reached out and wrapped some of her blonde hair around his fist. She sighed, her eyes victorious. Her hands moved up his thighs toward the closure on his jeans and he let her, telling himself to just close his eyes and be a man. He should just fuck her senseless and get back to his life. Back to unfeeling, uncomplicated… unbeautiful. Easy, controlled, and empty.
Whitney’s hands rubbed over his cock beneath the denim, and he willed it to get hard. He pulled her onto his lap, his hands rough as her wet mouth found his. His cock responded as he imagined a different woman in his arms.
“Oh, Alex, I missed you.”
Please, stop talking, his mind screamed. That’s not the voice I need.
His lips took hers roughly, his tongue pushing into her mouth and his moved, searching for something, anything to make this happen, but after a minute or two of frantic groping and her grinding on his crotch, his heart ached more and more. It seized even more when his cock twitched unwillingly under her continued kneading. He could fuck her, his traitor body would respond, but he didn’t want to. It fucking killed him that it was even possible.
He turned his head away in disgust. Her mouth was too sloppy, too loose, and not Angel’s. Whitney was making loud mewling noises, frantically panting and still clutching at his hair, trying to turn his head back.
“Alex, please,” she begged. “I want you.”
“I… I’m…” Alex shook his head to clear some of the alcohol-induced haze. “I can’t do this, Whitney. It isn’t going to happen.” His hands found her upper arms to stop her body from rocking into his. “Stop,” he said as he tried to still her.
She continued to pull on him, trying to kiss him even as he turned away, desperate to have him back, desperate to get him away from the other woman.
“I said stop it!” He commanded as his hands closed around her wrists and held them between them.
She stopped moving and looked at him, unable to deny the truth she found in his eyes and his hard expression.
“I’m in no condition to do this, even if I wanted to.”
“But, you don’t want to,” Whitney stated simply, her eyes filled with tears as her face fell.
Alex pulled in a breath as he pushed her from his lap and stood, beginning to straighten his clothes and doing up his jeans quickly. “No. I’m sorry.”
Whitney sat on the ottoman where he’d deposited her and didn’t bother to pull down her skirt or replace the strap on her shoulders as silent tears rolled down her cheeks. Her breasts were grotesque to him now when he used to find her beautiful. Now, no one was beautiful. Except Angel.
“It was wrong of me to come here. Wrong to let you think there could ever be anything between us again. I have no excuse and I’m an asshole. I’m sorry, Whitney.”
“Why don’t you want me?” she asked quietly, though her tone was bitter. “Why didn’t you ever want me? Why am I not good enough?”
Alex ran both hands through his hair and cringed at the differences as he turned way. Angel would never cower and cry at his feet, begging like this. There were times when she’d begged him to fuck her, sure, but it always felt more like a demand or a siren’s song he couldn’t resist. He wanted to go to her. Even with another woman sobbing in front of him, Angel was all he could think about, the hurt on her face when he left her up on that stage, her voice singing to him as he left with Whitney, was ripping at his guts like acid. There was a woman in pain in front of him, yet all he could think about were the soulful brown eyes, hardening in determination to get through her set even as her voice audibly cracked. He knew he’d hurt her like hell and it disgusted him. He felt claustrophobic, the walls closing in around him. He had to get the hell out of there.
Alex rubbed his hand over his mouth, trying to lose the feeling of the kisses that he’d just been party to. He felt guilty, dirty… and deeply sad. “It wasn’t your fault. It was always me,” he murmured, turning back to her with a slight shrug.
She cried harder, and Alex moved toward her, pushing the straps of her dress up over her shoulder again then pulling her to her feet, before turning away.
“But, why her and not me? This is because of her!” Whitney yelled after him.
“I can’t tell you something I don’t even know myself. We were over before Angel and I met. I never meant to hurt you.”
He turned again and began to walk toward the door.
“But why her?” she screamed after him.
Alex s
topped and turned. “It’s beyond me. I can’t control what she does to me. She… creates needs… only she can ease.”
“Well, you won’t find it so easy this time, Alex! After Allison told me… Let’s just say that seeing is believing.”
“Goddammit! What did you do?” Alex demanded.
“Thanked her for her advice. But, it was enough. She got my point. I made sure of it tonight! It will serve you right when she tells you to fuck off, and you get what you give. Finally.”
* * *
Her heart was breaking, falling in shards, ripping and tearing her flesh as they fell. Angel buried her face in Kyle’s shirt and sobbed uncontrollably. How fucking ironic was this? Sobbing her eyes out in the arms of her ex-lover was certainly the last thing she ever thought she’d do. She never thought she’d cry like this over a man. Ever.
“Shhh, honey. Angel, it’ll be okay.”
She shook her head without moving away. “No, it won’t,” she said simply. “I feel like I’m dying, Kyle. I’m—fucking dying!” Her shoulders shook softly as she continued to cry, soaking his shirt. “How could he do this to me?” Her lungs wouldn’t pull in the air she needed. “How could he leave with her?”
Kyle rubbed her back over and over, hushing her and doing his best to soothe her hurt. “He’s a guy and he was pissed, Angel. Alex looked like he wanted to kill something. He was crazy with jealousy. He obviously cares about you.”
“The hell he does! He’s only upset because, for once in his life, he isn’t getting what he wants. He doesn’t care about me. If he did, he would be here with me, not fucking her!” She knew she sounded crazed, and her heart protested at her lack of control. He’d shown he cared before, but it was such a contradiction to his actions now.
“You don’t know that’s what he’s doing. Stop doing this to yourself.” Kyle’s voice took on a soothing tone.
Angel pushed back and looked up. Her eyes were swollen, and her tears left tracks of mascara and smeared make-up down her face. “He was holding her hand! That was his way of making sure I’d know his intentions. How could he be such a bastard?” Her face crumpled again and a quiet sob broke free of her chest. “He knew what it would do to me!”
Kyle’s arms wound around her as she burst into a new fit of tears. “Angel, you’re going to make yourself sick. You have to calm down. You were amazing tonight, and he had to have seen it.”
“So what? He’s more interested in convincing me he doesn’t give a shit and that he never loses his precious control!”
Kyle sighed. He had to admit, if positions were reversed, he might have done the same thing. “He doesn’t want to seem vulnerable, Angel. But, he is. That’s easy to see.”
“Uh-uh,” she cried. “He’s fucking fuh—fine!”
They were sitting on the floor in front of her couch. She’d fallen apart the minute her door closed, somehow managing to hold it together through the last set. Allison and the boys, even Crystal, hadn’t said much when Kyle had offered to take her home. Allison had pulled her phone from her pocket and began texting furiously. Even Cole let her leave without stopping or following her. Angel didn’t protest about leaving her car behind or Kyle putting her into his, a sure sign of her fragility. Maybe it was an attempt to get back at Alex, unsure if she wanted him to know he was killing her or that she didn’t give a damn either way.
A few minutes later, Angel quieted, and Kyle nudged her chin up with his thumb. “Do you want some wine or something? I saw a bottle of red on the counter. It might help calm you down.”
Angel nodded wearily, pushing her tear-dampened hair off her face. She could smell the hairspray and she wrinkled her nose. “The glasses are hanging there.” Her hand waved in the direction of the kitchen as she scrambled onto the couch and curled up in a ball on her side. Her nose was stuffy and she sniffed then wiped at her eyes.
Drawers opened and a hollow rattle of metal on metal echoed as Kyle dug around in the drawer for a corkscrew. Angel’s damp eyes were tired and refused to focus. The Chicago skyline blurred in the frame of her great room window, becoming nothing more than a multicolored smudge, a blurry rainbow of dark and light.
Her heart squeezed inside her chest, and she felt sick to her stomach. How could I let this happen? How can I love him this much? Her eyes stung again, but she bit her lip hard, hoping the pain would stem the tears from falling.
“This place is yowza, Angel. Really nice. I guess psychology pays better than singing.”
“Thanks, but you guys should have a record deal. You’re more than good enough.”
“If it’s meant to be, it’ll happen. Maybe if you were still fronting us, then, yeah.”
“You don’t need me. You’re all amazing.” She sniffed and wiped at her nose with the back of her hand. “Won’t Crystal be upset that you’re here?”
He reappeared with two wine glasses filled halfway with the deep garnet liquid. “She saw what went down with Alex. You and I are friends now.” The words sounded weird to Angel in light of the song and the scene Alex had witnessed.
“Really?” she asked hesitantly.
Kyle shrugged. “It’s what I’m left with. If I have to live with it, Crystal does, too.”
“Easier said than done,” Angel murmured, feeling suddenly sorry for the other woman. “See how well I’m handling Alex and Whitney.”
“That’s because that bitch wants him. You’re clearly over me; even Crystal could see that tonight.”
When Kyle handed her a glass and then sank down next to her again, her eyes fell to his left shoulder. The tattoo was glaring proof of their past relationship. She flushed, realizing Alex must have seen it. She touched the outline of it with her finger.
“This was so dumb.”
“It didn’t make a difference anyway,” he said quietly with a shrug. “I was such a dick.”
Angel leaned up on the arm of the couch and took a swallow of wine. “Shit happens. It’s in the past.”
“But, I’m sorry. Angel. I’m not sure if I’m sorrier for you or me.”
Angel’s expression softened and gentle fingers traced Kyle’s jaw.
“I’ve never seen you like this. Were you this hurt… when we, I mean, by me?”
Angel inhaled deeply, meeting his brown eyes with hers. “Sure, it hurt. I think most of it was that Crystal was so different and not like me at all. I thought you could do better and, honestly, I’m shocked you’re still with her. Really, Kyle, I want you to be happy, but Crystal is not the one for you.”
He shrugged. “I let the one get away. Hopefully, Alex is smarter than me.”
Angel’s chin jutted out. “Obviously not. He did the same thing; chose someone else.”
Kyle studied her face and watched as her chin began to tremble. “No, he didn’t. You don’t know he’s cheating.”
Angel closed her eyes and swallowed hard as visions of Alex making love to Whitney filled her mind. “God, I wish I could shut off my brain.”
“What is it about him? His money? His family or the company?”
She shook her head thoughtfully. “No. When I look at him, I don’t see any of that. It’s how he makes me feel. I’ve never felt so desperate or so… beautiful. It’s like when he’s with me, I’m a better version of myself. When he touches me, I come alive. Does that make sense?”
Kyle’s face fell slightly, but he nodded. Angel could see the regret in his eyes and knew her words pained him. “I’m sorry, Kyle.”
“It doesn’t hurt that he’s loaded, though,” he muttered.
“He doesn’t buy me things because he knows I wouldn’t want it. His money doesn’t factor into it. He’s just… Alex. I’ve known all along he’d gut me. And I… let it happen. I have no one to blame but myself. He told me going in he didn’t fall in love.”
Angel laid her head on her folded arms that rested on the edge of the couch, and the two of them sat quietly, listening to music. It calmed her down, and eventually, her eyes started to droop.
“I probably should get going, Angel. Crystal is probably ready to kill me by now.” He touched her knee and shook it gently. She got up sleepily and walked with him to the door, rubbing her eyes and smearing her mascara and tears into a black mess. Her nasal passages were swollen from her tears, which made her voice sound funny.
Kyle was hugging her goodbye when someone banged the door loudly five times. Angel started in his arms with a gasp.
“What the hell? It’s three in the morning!” Kyle mumbled, turning to open the newly replaced door.
“No, Kyle. Don’t open it,” she whispered, her heart dropped like a stone. “Just be quiet.”
“Open up, Angel! I know that son-of-a-bitch is in there with you! Open the fucking door! Now!” Alex’s voice roared from the hall. More pounding followed. “Angel!”
Kyle’s eyebrows shot up as he watched Angel come forward slowly; he could see her trembling. Her hand reached out tentatively and touched the wood. She jumped again when Alex resumed the pounding.
“Goddamn it! I said open this door right now!” The handle rattled as he shook it violently from the other side.
“Go away, Alex,” she said quietly, knowing she wouldn’t be strong enough to turn him away if she looked him in the face. “I can’t right now.”
“If he’s touched you, I will fucking rip him limb from limb! Now open the goddamned door!” He pounded one more time with such force that it made the walls shake.
“Just go away, Alex.” There was defeat in her voice as she leaned her forehead against the door as Kyle waited beside her silently. “What do you care if he touched me after what you’ve done tonight?”
Seconds ticked by, and Angel was scared of what was next… scared he’d walked away or what he’d say.
“Angel,” Alex’s tone was calmer but clearly strained. “We need to talk.”
She leaned her head on the door, eyes closed, fingers grazing the wood. “You said it all when you left with Whitney.”
The door banged loudly enough to shake the art on the walls and make Angel jump again. One single hit. “Uuugggghhh! We both know I can break this fucking door down, Angel! Now, let me in!”