“Hon, you were both kids when that shit happened. It’s not like he did it on purpose just to fuck with you. He was so drunk that, if I remember correctly, you were even having second thoughts about going into that bedroom with him. It’s been fifteen years, Phee. You can’t keep hating someone for something they don’t even know they did.”
“I thought you were on my side?” I argue.
“I AM on your side, but when you’re acting like an idiot, I’m going to call you on your shit. Be honest with yourself at least. You don’t hate him and that’s what’s pissing you off most right now. I know the shit with your dad is making you crazy and I get it, even though you’ve been keeping secrets from me. I know you didn’t have a good life growing up, but you’ve made something of yourself. You’re a strong, independent woman, but that doesn’t mean you can’t lean on someone every once in a while. Especially a hot guy who looks at you like you’re the sun in his sky.”
Oh Jesus, now she’s becoming a poet.
Reaching around her, I grab the shot glass she stole from me and down it quickly, letting the burn of the tequila numb me so I don’t have to think about my shitty childhood or being the fucking sun in anyone’s sky. I’m not a bright shining light, I’m a cloud of doom and gloom that rains on everyone’s parade.
“DJ took my virginity and didn’t even remember it the morning after. I’m sorry, how is it possible NOT to hate someone for that shit?”
Finnley opens her mouth to reply and then quickly covers it with her hand as she looks over my shoulder. I don’t need to turn around to know DJ is standing right behind me. Even if Finnley didn’t look like a ghost just magically appeared behind me, I can smell him. He took a shower after that whole locker room incident and I can smell his soap and shampoo. He smells clean and fresh and like the most delicious man in the world. Obviously, he felt dirty after our little rendezvous and needed to rid his body of the uncleanliness that is me.
“What. In. The. Fuck?” DJ shouts over the blare of a rock song from the jukebox.
Twisting around on the chair, I try not to let the sight of DJ with hair still damp from the shower and his smell turn me into a pile of mush.
“You. Suck,” I tell him, punctuating each word with my finger in his chest.
He quickly grabs my finger and pulls my body towards him. I slide right off of the stool, my feet slamming to the ground and my chest colliding with his.
“I repeat, what in the fuck?” he asks angrily as I glare up at him.
“Oh, please! You have no right to be all indignant with me, mister wham-bam-I-don’t-remember-anything-ma’am!” I yell at him, the alcohol rushing right to my head, making me sway against him. “You got what you wanted earlier and now it’s MY turn to walk the fuck away.”
I attempt to pull my hand out of his grip, but he wraps his arms around me.
“Let me go so I can walk away,” I growl angrily, squinting my eyes so I stop seeing three of him standing in front of me. Three DJ’s, all sharing the same pissed-off look on their face, is three too many.
“I honestly have no idea what you’re talking about,” he tells me firmly, reaching up to smooth the hair out of my eyes.
I swat his hand away and jab my elbow into his arm so he’ll drop his hold on me.
“Clearly. You’ve been a complete idiot for fifteen years. Jesus, how stupid was I back then to think I actually had a chance with you? Mr. Star Quarterback, most popular guy in high school. Why the hell would you even look twice at me? But hey, I got my wish, all right. One drunken night, I got what I’d always wanted and you STILL don’t fucking remember!” I shout.
Punching my fist into his chest, he finally lets go of me and I stumble backwards. Finnley grabs onto my shoulders to steady me while DJ stands in front of me, looking like someone just shot his favorite dog.
“Everything okay over here?” Collin asks, walking up to our group.
“Just fucking peachy!” I say in a cheerful voice while I try my hardest not to throw up on everyone’s shoes. The room is full-on spinning right now and I’m sorely regretting that last shot of tequila.
“Collin, can you give me a ride home? I don’t feel very well,” I mumble as I turn away from DJ and start walking towards the door in what I hope is a straight line.
“I fucking HATE you!” I shout over my shoulder, slamming my hands into the door to swing it open as I step out into the night air.
Leaning forward, I place my hands on my knees and take a few deep breaths, wondering why the fuck my eyes sting and I feel like crying. I fucked DJ in the locker room for all the wrong reasons. Sure, I wanted him. The sight of him up in that boxing ring turned me on something fierce, and watching him take that hit from Dax and hit the mat made me feel protective. I wanted to run my hands over his face and make sure he was okay, kiss away the pain and give him comfort. But a part of me did it in the hopes that a fucking light bulb would turn on in his head. I thought he’d feel me around him, look into my eyes and remember.
I just wanted to be good enough for him to remember.
I’ve stood here in the corner of the bar watching Phina down shot after shot and I can’t help but feel shitty about it. Is she drinking to try and forget what happened in the locker room?
FUCK!
Every time I think I take a step forward with this woman, I wind up taking fifty steps back. It’s been a blow to my ego, listening to people from the force and the fire department giving me shit for my sad boxing skills, but at least I had the memory of finally fucking Phina to get me through the night. I caught sight of her as soon as I walked in the door and my dick hardened in my pants. I wanted her again, immediately. I wanted a chance to take my time, undress her and stare at every beautiful inch of her body. I wanted to hear her shout my name this time instead of telling me how much she hated me over and over. Even from across the room, I could see the mark I left on her neck when she turned her head to the side and I wanted to beat my chest like a fucking caveman and start chanting ‘Woman, mine!’ for the entire bar to hear.