She stared at the wet rings on the bar counter as Aural Stimulation began their third and last set. She tried to make sense of her possessive feelings toward Jay. It wasn’t fair to not want him but not want him to be with someone else, too. She knew that; it wasn’t even debatable.
What wasn’t so cut-and-dried was the part about her not wanting him. Was that even still true?
Kimber closed her eyes, and for the first time, she granted herself the permission to imagine herself in a relationship with Jay. She fit him in all the scenarios she’d pictured in the past using a perfect, faceless stand-in boyfriend and realized it wasn’t such a stretch from how Jay had always treated her. Jay shared many of the attributes she’d assigned to her imaginary ideal significant other. He helped her when she needed him to, always made her laugh, cheered her up with humor and wisdom when she was sad, and ensured her happiness. He was fun and easy to be with, and she adored his dry sense of humor. He had always shown her endless patience, from the time he taught her how to parallel park to the countless instances when he listened to her rehash the same romantic problems over and over as if they were new and not self-inflicted.
And for as much as she teased him for it, she loved how intelligent he was, how he was always reading and learning in his spare time. She found it amusing how much he proclaimed to hate the History Channel for all its numerous shows concerning conspiracy theories, yet it was always on the TV every time she risked a visit to his apartment in that unsavory neighborhood. Her heart ached at the thought of him living there by himself, yet at the same time her clit throbbed at how independent he was, how he didn’t need to surround himself with the fascinating noise and fleeting pleasantries that Dane thrived on.
There were so many aspects about Jay that she adored: his unapologetic, un-ironic love for Katy Perry’s music; how he would taste-test her failed cooking experiments with bravery; that he would call or text her at random; and how, no matter how many times she tried to explain it to him, he couldn’t figure out how Deal or No Deal worked. But most importantly, he was good to her, and she wanted to be good to him, too. Jay was her home, and she couldn’t imagine a life without him. Not to mention the way he kissed her-the way he did everything to her, really-gave her goose bumps. She had a rash of them just remembering it all.
And he’d just left the bar with some other girl.
Tears pricked her eyes as a rush of panic flooded her veins. This was insane. How could she feel such affection for someone who’d violated her trust? She fought for control of her heart, needed to hold onto that anger. Otherwise, everything would make even less sense than it already did.
Aural Stimulation played its last note and Dane bid the crowd a good night. She couldn’t believe it was one-thirty already. She’d sat there for so long, and for what?
The band left the stage, and Kimber wondered what she was doing there. Jay and Taryn were gone, and she didn’t feel the desire to talk to Dane. Still, she remained at the bar until Dane gravitated over to her, negotiating through the tipsy patrons on their way to the exit.
“Bables.” He wrapped his arms around her in a hot, uncomfortable hug; he was even sweatier than he’d been before. “Are we still on for tonight?”
Oh, right. She’d all but promised him he’d get laid. The thought of him touching her in any capacity made her skin crawl. Still, being with Dane was more appealing than being alone, especially since who the hell knew what Jay and Taryn were up to. She had a sinking feeling she wouldn’t like the answer.
Kimber tossed Dane a winning smile. “Consider us very, very on.”
Taryn’s apartment was a tidy wreck, with clean laundry folded and resting on all available seats in the living room and various half-accomplished craft projects occupying every other surface. With few remaining choices of chairs to sit upon, Jay followed Taryn to the bedroom she shared with Brad and they relaxed on the bed, watching reality TV and splitting the batch of chocolate chip cookies she’d made and, against his better judgment, a bottle of wine. Still, he found viewing Celebrity Fit Club without being wasted was all but impossible.
Then came the sound of a woman moaning next door. They turned to each other with wide eyes.
Taryn tilted her head toward the wall. “Is that Kimber?”
Did she have to ask? Who else would it be? The cookies and alcohol churned in his stomach as a wave of nausea hit him hard. “Oh God.” He leaned forward, hunching over his legs, folded under him Indian-style. “I think I’m gonna be sick. I can’t stay here.” He stood, and his drunkenness finally got the best of him as he sank back onto the mattress. “And apparently I can’t leave either. Shit.”
“You go in the other room and do whatever you have to do.” Taryn bounced to her knees on the mattress. “I’ll take care of business.”
Jay ducked into the bathroom, where he emptied the half-digested contents of his stomach mere seconds after the door shut behind him. He flushed the toilet and drank some lukewarm water from the tap before sitting on the furry bathmat with his spine against the side of the cool, ceramic tub. He tilted his head back to rest between a bottle of conditioner and the shower curtain and listened to Taryn scream down the hallway, squealing his name and all sorts of naughty things she wanted him to do to her as she threw herself around the mattress, the headboard clacking against the wall. Had the circumstances been different, he would’ve found it fucking hilarious.
But the circumstances weren’t different. Everything was just how it was, and it was impossible to ignore why Taryn resorted to such noisy shenanigans. Kimber was obviously back with Dane, and there was nothing he could do about it.
Dane followed Kimber to her apartment in his Sentra, even though he’d had more to drink than she had. She knew she should’ve volunteered to drive him, but the bar was just a few blocks from her place and he didn’t know where she lived. More selfishly, she didn’t want to have to take him back for his car in the morning, didn’t want either of them depending on each other for anything anymore. She was done relying on and babysitting him. It was everyone for themselves.
She parked her car and got out just as Dane pulled in beside her and stuck his head out the window. “Is it okay to park here, or is this someone’s reserved spot?”
Kimber barely heard him, too focused on the Monte Carlo across the lot. Jay’s car. Hope that he’d come to see her vaulted through her, but then she saw Taryn’s bedroom light on and two shadowy figures just beyond the curtain, and her heart plummeted.
They were going to fuck right next door to her, knowing she could hear it all.
“Kim?” Dane drummed impatiently on the wheel.
“Yeah, park wherever.” Kimber was tired of him already, and for a moment she felt bad for feeling that way; he seemed so earnestly excited to be with her. But so what? They were broken up, yet she was still putting Dane’s needs first. When had he ever done her that favor in return?
Once inside, Kimber switched on the living room light and Dane looked around with his half-open eyes, heavy with drink. “So this is your crib.” He wandered around, touching everything like he was a five-year-old reading with his fingers. “I like it.”
Kimber crossed her arms and watched as he bent down to pet Pepperoni, who was curled up in the nap position on the beanbag chair. “What about you, buddy? You like it here, too?” He ran his hand up and down Pepperoni’s spine, seemingly oblivious to the cat bristling, as if to say, Who is this stranger and why is he mauling me in my own home? He gave no sign of remembering who Dane was.