Surprisingly, I didn’t feel defeat crawling across my skin, just a tugging sadness that I was in this situation in the first place. Maybe in another life, I’d be able to say something back to her. Something witty and sexy and as much of a tease to her as she was to me. What would that be, I wondered, feeling the words crowd into my brain like I’d actually be able to put them down on paper and give them to her.
I remember every bruise I gave you, remember how your satin skin felt under my hands and tongue and teeth and lips, how tight you were around my cock. Every time you hurt me, broke through the skin on my back with your nails, I remember that look in your eye, that evil glint that told me how much you wanted me to hurt you in return. You wanted to be spanked and bruised and fucked, no softness between us, Add, because we’re not those people.
That’s what won’t go away in my head, how perfect that felt between us. The hardness, the rawness, the necessary violence.
How necessary that night was.
I exhaled a bitter sounding laugh, scrubbing the impromptu verse from my brain, patently ignoring how easily it had come out. Then I walked upstairs to my bedroom that was just as dark as every other room in the house, and went to bed alone.
Chapter Nine
“I’ll have the Tom Yum. Probably two bowls.” Leo handed his menu to the waitress. “And bring me two waters, I’ll drink both before you come back.” He flashed her a shining smile.
“Shrimp Pad Thai, please,” I said as I handed my menu over. When the waitress walked away, I raised an eyebrow toward my lunch date. “Two bowls of soup?”
Leo raised his arms over his head, stretching his t-shirt across his pecs. “Game’s in three days.”
“Aren’t you supposed to be eating a shit load of chicken or something right about now?”
“No, that’s Tuesday night. I’m hydrating today, for the party tonight.” He grabbed the glass of water the waitress placed on the table. “The soup’s good. Now tell me what’s up?”
I stirred the straw in my glass, watched as condensation started to form. “Nothing, really.” My thoughts trailed back to when I’d sent Nathan the provocative email and how undeniably silent my own email had been. After sending it just around midnight the night before, I’d woken up early that morning and found myself dismayed over my empty email inbox. And I’d looked at my phone often that day, feeling that same stone of disappointment settle in the pit of my stomach each time my email remained the same. No reply. No acknowledgement.
I’m not sure what I expected, honestly. It wasn’t as though he’d explicitly expressed mutual interest, but I knew he felt it. Rationally, I knew baiting him with repeated sexually-suggestive emails would come across as less sexy and more Alicia Silverstone à la The Crush. Which was why I hadn’t followed up with another one even though I really, really wanted to.
“Earth to Adele.” Leo interrupted my train of thought and I started, grabbing the straw more firmly and taking a sip to give myself a moment to respond.
“Classes have really distracted me, is all.” It was partially true, given that the professor of one such class was the one distracting me. “What’s up with you?”
He shrugged, that carefree movement defining Leo so perfectly. “Darcy texted me last night.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Booty call?”
His lips twitched. “Probably. I didn’t reply.”
I let out a whoop and held up my hand for a high-five. “Proud of you, Leo.”
He slapped my hand and sat back, laughing. “Isn’t this supposed to be the other way around, Add? Shouldn’t you be telling me about the guy you’re hung up over and then announcing you’re moving on from him? I can’t pretend I don’t feel a little emasculated right now.”
“It’s a big step for you, Leo. Darcy has had your balls in her tiny grasp, her glittery tips biting into your rocks with impressive control all summer long.” I tilted my head. “About time you reminded her whose balls they really were.”
“First of all, saying my balls were in her tiny grasp means you assume I have tiny balls. I feel like I need to defend their more than adequate size.” I made a face, shaking my head no. “And secondly, I think you’re getting ahead of yourself.” Leo finished his first glass of water and started on his second, flagging the waitress for a refill. “I didn’t say I wasn’t interested.” He didn’t meet my eyes. “I just said I didn’t reply.”
“Ugh,” I groaned. “This is why I don’t have girlfriends; I can’t deal with the back and forth.” As soon as the words slipped from my lips, I realized that it was similar to what I was doing with Nathan. “Are we going to that party tonight?”
“If you’re up for it, yeah.”
When the waitress brought our food, I mulled over going to the party. I wasn’t really feeling up for partying, but the alternative was moping around my apartment, checking my email obsessively.
After our lunch, Leo walked me to my apartment, promising to come pick me up around eight that night.
As I dressed for the party, my eyes drifted again and again to my email, flicking my eyes away when I saw nothing waiting. My fingers itched to send him another email, something haunting and sensual. And just as my feet padded across the floor, I halted.
What was it about him that called to me, that made me want him to want me? I’d never chased a man, not once. I never waited for a phone call—or, in this case, an email—and I most certainly never pined for the unattainable. Why? Because men had never been unattainable for me.
And I say that not to brag, but to illustrate that Adele Morello was a woman who pulled hearts from their chests, leaving them discarded on the floor without a second chance. Adele Morello didn’t want for any man.
There’s something to be said for the quintessential college party. “Debauchery” came to mind as we walked into the frat house and two naked women ran screaming down the hallway, followed by one naked man. “Disgusting” was an appropriate adjective for the number of times my shoe got stuck to something sticky on the floor.
I wrapped a hand around Leo’s arm as he craned his head back to get a good look at the naked coeds and tugged him with me to the kitchen. A drink was pushed into my hand and I smiled a thank you before walking around the counter and dumping it into the sink, not willing to trust anyone who handed me a drink unless I knew their intentions.
Grabbing the bottle of vodka on the counter, I poured a solid inch into the bottom of the red plastic cup and handed it to Leo. “That’s more than a shot, Add.” He raised an eyebrow in my direction after looking inside the cup.
“Pour some Coke in it.” I gestured to the cans stacked on the counter. I poured the same amount in my cup and tossed it back, relishing in the burn as it coated my throat and slid down, mingling with the lingering annoyance in the pit of my stomach.
After checking my email for the fiftieth time that day, I gave myself a little pep talk.
Nathan does not have the only dick in town, Adele. Quit acting like it and catch another one.
But upon surveying the choices in front of me, I remembered why I pursued the older guys, the ones with a hint of darkness, the esoteric men in a sea of predictable dudes with predictable habits. Guys who bought you a drink and acted like it bought them a ticket to your vagina. Who thought their mouths served one purpose. Men who treated the bedroom like a race instead of an amusement park.