Man Candy (24 page)

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Authors: Jessica Ingro

BOOK: Man Candy
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I shook my head again and cursed. It was starting to feel really heavy on my neck.

“Did you suggest it and she got mad at you for being a pig?” he tried guessing again.

“No.”

“Well that’s boring. So what happened after you found the chick? Was she hot by the way?”

“She was all right.” I shrugged. “Rissa accused me of sleeping with her if she hadn’t been there. Then she went on and on about Cassandra and how I slept with her and now was going to work with her.”

“Sounds all sorts of fucked up.”

“I guess.” I downed the last of my beer and scowled at the empty bottle. “You know she couldn’t even tell me if she cared about me. What kind of cold hearted bitch does that?”

“I don’t think you mean that,” he said lightly. “A cold hearted bitch is one who tries to fuck you with another man’s jizz inside her.”

“No I do mean it. She and Lucy are two of a kind.” I nodded my head vehemently.

“You might feel otherwise in the morning. Let’s get you out of here.” He stood up and gripped my bicep in an attempt to pull me from my chair.

“I’m not ready to go,” I complained when he succeeded in getting me out of my chair.

“Don’t care. I told you that was your last one.” He herded me out the door towards his truck.

“Since when are you the responsible one?” I snickered.

“Good question, bro.”

 

TWENTYFOUR

The following weekend, I was through being mad at Clarissa and discovered that underneath my anger was nothing but sadness.

She had called and left me a voicemail, but I just couldn’t bring myself to call her back. I was so tired of fighting. If she wanted to talk, she could find me for a change.

It was the night of her cousins’ wedding and instead of getting dressed up and taking her like I was supposed to, I was sulking in Ed’s garage while he tinkered with an old Chevy Impala he bought years ago and was trying to restore.

“Hand me that wrench?” Ed held his hand out and I placed it in his palm.

“How long you going to be doing that?” I asked him a while later when there was shit on television and he still had his head under the hood.

“You’re the one who interrupted me. Remember?”

“Yeah I guess.” I got up and grabbed a beer from the mini-fridge he kept out there. Popping the top, I took a long swallow.

“Why do you need a babysitter anyway?” He lifted his head and gave me a smirk.

“Fuck you. I’m not a child. I don’t need a babysitter.”

“No. You’re miserable and I’m guessing it’s because of Rissa,” he deduced.

“That too,” I admitted on a sigh.

“You either need to forget about her or go fix it with her.” He set his wrench down and leaned against the bumper of the car.

“It isn’t that easy to fix. She chose him again and I’m tired of the back and forth with her.”

“Okay then. There’s your answer. Forget about her.”

“What if I don’t want to? Not really anyway. It would be easy if I did but part of me still wants to be with her.”

Ed picked up a rag and began wiping his hands on it looking lost in thought. I sipped on my beer and contemplated if it really were as easy as he made it seem.

“One time Ella left me before we were married. She wasn’t sure she wanted to marry me. Something about me never listening to her. Imagine that?” He gave me an impish grin and I chuckled. “I chased after her for a while, trying to win her back. All it did was drive her farther away. It wasn’t until I told her I was going to respect her wishes and leave her alone that she eventually came around.”

“What does that have to do with Rissa and me?”

“For being a smart man, you sure are a stupid son of a bitch sometimes,” he said on a sigh. “What I’m saying is stop the push and pull with her. You can’t keep fighting her. Tell her you understand where she’s coming from and that you respect her wishes. Once the dust settles if she still wants to be with you she will, and if she doesn’t then you’ll know you need to move on.”

“I don’t know,” I hedged. It seemed like a sound strategy, but at the same time I was sick of always having to have one. I guess Pat Benatar was right, love really is a battlefield.

“Do you want to be with her?” he asked with aggravation in his words like he was talking to an errant child.

“Of course I do.” I needed her like I needed my next breath. It was impossible to be without her as I was finding out the hard way.

“Then go find her, you idiot, and actually hear her out this time.”

“What is that supposed to mean? I listen to her.”

“From the story you told me, it sounded like you jumped to conclusions before blowing up and leaving. That isn’t listening to her. There could have been a reasonable explanation for what he was doing there,” he countered.

“Maybe.” I chewed on that thought for a few minutes.

“If you want her to come to you, then tell her that’s what you want. Women analyze men until their blue in the face and they still don’t realize we are simple creatures. She’s probably thinking you don’t want to talk to her or that if she waits you’ll come back like you always do. Go to her. Find her and tell her you’ll give her the space she wants and that the ball is in her court. If she comes back to you, great. If she doesn’t then at least you won’t be a sorry ass pining after her any longer.”

“You do realize that if I go find her tonight and make a fool out of myself, I’m going to kick your ass.” I really hoped this would work. I was out of options if it didn’t.

“I know you’ll try but won’t succeed. Now go grow a set and get the fuck out of here.”

“Thanks, man.” I patted him on his back and left in order to go home and shower. I had a wedding to get to.

*****

Clarissa

The chicken dance played again for the third time that night and I wanted to rip my heart out and throw it at the deejay’s head. This was by far one of the worst weddings I had ever been to.

Our cousin Raylene had the taste of an emo girl at a hip hop concert. Everything from the gaudy fake floral decorations to the cheesy deejay made me want to break out into hives. She totally should have spent some money on a wedding coordinator.

“Have another,” Meredith said as she sat down at our table with another round of vodka tonics. At least there was a top shelf cash bar to help pass the time away. If I didn’t think our mothers would hang us by our toes, I would have snuck out of there as soon as the bland buffet food was served.

“Thanks,” I murmured before tipping the glass back. “Where’s Tanner?”

“He got a phone call or something.” She waved me off and I shrugged. I didn’t really want him there anyway. He was a constant reminder of Ben. Just looking at him made my heart pang with sorrow and regret.

“How much longer do you think we’ll have to make nice with the fam?”

“I’d say another half hour or so.”

“Really?” I glanced at my watch and cringed. Longest night ever.

Downing the rest of my drink, I set the glass down making the ice cubes clink against the glass.

“You might want to slow down there, speedy. You’re going to get drunk and sloppy. Besides it’s a cash bar which means you keep this up and all your cash is going to be gone.”

“That’s okay. I’ll just make you buy my drinks when that happens.” I bumped her shoulder with mine and let out a small laugh. It was the best I could do these days.

I wasn’t allowing myself to be happy. It was punishment for screwing up the best thing that ever happened to me. I was so damn afraid to let Ben in that all I ended up doing was pushing him away. He deserved better than me. That was for sure.

A haunting piano melody started and my breath caught when I realized it was “Sorry Seems to Be the Hardest Word” by Elton John. Maybe the deejay wasn’t a total loser after all.

“I love this song,” I breathed.

“I know.” Meredith looked over my shoulder with a grin on her face. I turned to see what she was smiling at and I immediately stopped breathing.

Ben was there and he looked devilishly handsome in a black suit with a light blue shirt. The top buttons of his shirt were undone and he was sans tie. Was I suddenly dreaming?

“May I have this dance?” Ben held his hand out to me. I shook the cobwebs from my brain and took it.

He led me to the dance floor, drawing my body close to his with his hand on my back. His other hand cupped mine in between us. It felt so damn good to be back in his arms. I missed him more than I thought I would.

My head rested on his shoulder as we swayed and I felt tears building. I was so full of fear and regret. It weighed on me every day and now that he was here it was almost overwhelming.

Ben buried his face in my hair and lowly sang the words to the song in my ear. Tears leaked from my closed lids as I tried to deep breathe and not lose it on a dance floor in front of dozens of relatives. I tightened my grip on his hand and wished I could get closer to him.

When the song came close to ending, my brain raced with all the things I wanted to say to him. All the things I wanted to apologize for. I was about to open my mouth to say something— what I wasn’t sure—when Ben beat me to it.

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart.”

“For what,” I whispered around the lump in my throat.

“For everything. I just wanted you to know that I’m letting you go. You need to be able to decide what you want and you can’t do that when I’m always there pressing you for more. And if this is our last dance together, I want you to know that regardless of everything else I love you.”

He brought his lips to mine and tears began flowing down my cheeks in earnest. This was his goodbye and I felt powerless to stop it. The part of me that was paralyzed with fear of rejection and heartbreak didn’t want to stop it. I felt like I had split personalities some days.

His tongue swept into my mouth for one last taste before he pulled away and left me standing alone on the dance floor. As he disappeared into the sea of people coming up to dance to the Macarena, I had a horrible moment of panic where I worried if letting him go was the right decision.

If I let him leave, would I ever be able to get him back?

Wasn’t having him back in my life what I had been longing for since he walked out on me?

On leaden feet, I pushed my way through the crowd of gyrating bodies, ducking as arms flew out as part of the dance. I burst out of the ballroom into the hotel corridor. Looking left and right, I wasn’t sure which way he had gone.

Lifting up the hem of my floor length dress, I raced to the left hoping it was the right way. I rounded the corner and spotted him making his way to the valet stand across the lobby. Kicking off my shoes, I sprinted through the lobby, knocking into unsuspecting patrons and weaving around bags of luggage.

“Ben!” I called out just as he was handing his ticket over. “Wait!”

He said something to the valet, who nodded and stepped back. Ben pocketed his ticket and faced in my direction. He looked at me with a perplexed expression that gave nothing else away.

I skidded to a halt in front of him, out of breath and oblivious to what I was going to say.

When I finally caught my breath, I admitted something to him that scared the living shit out of me. “I knew it was you the first time I saw you in Philadelphia.”

“What was me?” he asked with a confused expression on his face.

“That you were the one,” I whispered feeling vulnerable and raw in that moment.

“Really? I thought you said I was a pig that night?” he teased and I relaxed a little.

“You were—which was a disappointment—but I meant the next day. You were on your knees in front of me and as soon as our eyes met, I just had this feeling of... of...”

“Completeness?” he offered.

“Yes. It was the most profound yet scariest thing I ever felt. After Scott screwed me over, I swore I would never get involved with someone who acted like you did the night before so I refused to admit what I was feeling was real. I tried to stay away from you, but every time I tried to put that wall up between us, you found a way to draw me out of it.”

“So why did you leave me after what happened in the bathroom? Even you couldn’t deny that we had amazing chemistry together. That wasn’t a fluke.”

God I really hated talking about all this. Saying it out loud made me seem so foolish and stupid.

“I only went back with Scott to stay away from you. I knew you’d come after me and he just seemed like the safer choice. Those few weeks we were back together all I could do was think about you. That’s why he ended up going back to his wife, because I wouldn’t...
you know
...” I whispered.

He cracked a smile at my choice of words but thankfully let it go. “And the other day? When you kicked me out?”

I shook my head and placed my hand on his arm, wishing I had more contact with him at that moment. Admitting everything inside of me wasn’t easy and I longed for his support.

“I didn’t kick you out.”

“You did. You took me outside and—” I placed my finger over his lip to stop him.

“I took you outside to explain to you that Scott was there to apologize. He had showed up right before you got there. I was in the middle of changing and told him to wait downstairs while I finished. When I heard you, I came downstairs even though I hadn’t finished dressing.”

“But he was all disheveled.”

“He showed up that way. He had just found out his wife was pregnant with a daughter. He realized he had to become a better man for her. I was actually a little surprised, but I owed it to him and myself to hear him out. I didn’t want you punching him before I could.”

“Why didn’t you just say all this before?” His face was hard and he looked pissed at me.

“I was going to and then you started assuming and it was all ‘hello pot meet kettle’ so I let you just keep on doing it.” I shrugged and apologized. “I’m sorry. I know it was childish.”

“I don’t know what to say,” he muttered.

“Say you won’t leave. That you’ll give me another chance,” I pleaded

“Why should I? You put me through the ringer, Clarissa. I don’t like not knowing where I stand with someone and then finding out where I think I stand is completely wrong.”

“It
was
right. I was just too afraid to tell you.”

He sighed and gave me an uncertain look. I supposed I deserved that considering the way I acted before. I knew right then that it was a go big or go home moment for us. So I took a deep, fortifying breath and decided to go big.

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