That Girl is Mine - Part Two (4 page)

I wake before Josh the next morning, and check in Dylan’s room before I head downstairs. His bed hasn’t been slept in, and as hard as it would be to have him around with Josh in the house right now, I still wish he’d come home. I wish he wouldn’t go out and spend time with other women. I know I don’t have the right to wish that – especially not right now when I’m still with Josh. But, I just wish he’d come home at night, just so I could know he’s OK. Because I’m not. I’m not OK at all.

Taking my cell off charge, I tap out a message to Dylan. It simply says ‘I’m sorry’, because I am. I’m so very sorry. Then I place my phone to silent and drop it in my bag then head to the kitchen to get the coffee started and collect myself. Josh will be up soon. I can’t be down here crying, looking as though I have a guilty conscience. He doesn’t need that before work. I made this mess of my life. I need to find a way to work it out without ruining the lives of those around me.

Just as I flip the coffee machine on, I hear the front door open and close and Dylan walks inside, wearing the same stretched shirt and gym pants he had on yesterday. My breath catches and I lock eyes with his as he saunters straight over to me.

“What are you–” my question is cut short when he reaches out and pulls me toward him, pressing his mouth to mine in a kiss so sensual and demanding that it takes my breath away while inducing panic at the same time. My knees go weak and I almost lose my footing in his arms, but he holds onto me, breathing heavily as he presses his forehead to mine and whispers, “I’m not sorry at all, Rusty. Not one bit.” Then he releases me and steps away just as I hear Josh call from the top of the stairs.

“Avery, are you downstairs?”

My cheeks are burning and my body is humming, and it takes me a moment before I can speak.

“Avery?” Josh calls out again, and I hear him begin to walk down the stairs.

Dylan tilts his head in a manner that asks me if I’m going to respond, and I blink quickly, snapping out of my trance.

“Yes?” I call back.

“Did I leave my briefcase down there?”

I glance over to the dining table where it’s sitting on the edge. “Yes.”

“OK, thanks. I’ll grab a shower. Won’t be long.”

“All right,” I call in return, my eyes still locked with Dylan’s as we wait in silence until we hear the shower switch on and know that it’s safe to talk. “What the hell are you doing?” I hiss.

“I told you, I need you.”

My head spins with emotion, and I need to blind a few times to regain control. Such simple words, they hold so much power… “What if I don’t need you?” I force myself to say.

He shakes his head. “You do. You just haven’t figured it out yet.”

I close my eyes, his soft voice washing over me.
I just haven’t figured it out yet…

“Where were you last night?”

He shrugs and runs his hand through his hair. “At Roxy and George’s. But, I slept in my car outside.”

“Seriously?”

He nods. “I came in, looked in your room like a stalker, saw you sleeping with Josh holding you – naked – nice touch by the way. And I promptly went outside and slept in my car.”

“Why did you do that?”

“Why did I sleep in my car, or why did I look in on you like a stalker?”

I shrug. “I don’t know – both.”

“I think you know the answer to both of those things.”

Pressing my lips together, I nod, because I do know why he did those things. I know exactly why…

“I’m sorry,” I whisper, my breath catching a little in my chest.

He reaches out and runs one finger lightly down the side of my face before letting it drop to his side. “Don’t be,” he replies. “I’m not.”

The coffee machine gurgles and spits, signaling that it’s ready, and I turn toward it to distract myself, offering him a mug as I pour one for Josh and me.

He declines, saying he wants to grab a shower and get ready for work himself, and when Josh comes down the stairs, Dylan acts completely normal with him. I wonder how the hell he can do that when I’m tied up in knots. How can he be so calm and so sure?

Josh walks over to me and kisses my cheek, accepting the coffee I hand him before grabbing a pack of cereal and sitting at the counter.

“You still interested in getting place of our own?” he asks, pouring cereal into his bowl. I see Dylan freeze midway up the stairs as Josh continues. “I looked at a few listings on my lunch break yesterday. There’s a couple of apartments near the hospital we could get. It would save me the commute, and I’d have an extra hour at home every day.”

He gets up and heads over to his briefcase, opening the latch before pulling out a few sheets of printed paper and handing them to me. “If you want, you could go and check them out while I’m at work – see what you think.”

Dylan appears by my side and takes the papers from my hands. “Thinking of abandoning me, huh?” he says, leafing through the pages.

Josh shrugs. “Yeah, time to give you back your chick free zone.”

Dylan places the pages on the counter. “Oh, I don’t mind. I’ve gotten used to having Rusty around here.” He reaches up and gives my hair a gentle tug, and I force a smile, feeling more than a little uncomfortable in this situation right now. I’d forgotten that I’d suggested we move out when we were at the club.

Josh chuckles and leafs through the pages. “Still, I think it’s time we got our own place. This was only ever agreed upon as a temporary arrangement, and we’ve taken advantage of your hospitality for long enough.

Dylan reaches up and pulls at his hair, smiling a crooked smile as he focuses his attention on Josh. “Well, it turns out, I don’t really mind having housemates. So, stay, move – whatever. Just don’t go because you think I want you out of here. Because that isn’t the case at all.”

***

Leaving Josh and Avery to talk, I head upstairs to get ready for work myself, feeling slightly pissed that Avery has been talking to Josh about moving out and never once said anything to me – not that we’ve been doing a hell of a lot of talking lately, but still, why the fuck does she want to move out? That girl is mine, and I need her here with me.

When I head back downstairs, Josh has left for work and Avery is in the kitchen, clearing up after their breakfast. I walk up behind her, and move the hair away from her neck, brushing my lips along the curve of her neck.

“Why are you doing this?” she whispers, her breathing increasing as my hand slides around to pull at the sash of her gray silk robe, before trailing my fingers over the soft skin of her abdomen before I slide my hand downward, over her mound. I cup it with my hand, standing up against her with my erection pressing into her back.

“Because I can’t seem to stop myself,” I whisper against her ear, shifting my hand so it slips below the waistband of her panties, sliding over her curls to her pussy that is so wet and ready for me that I moan as I slip my fingers inside.

“Oh,” she gasps, leaning against me as my fingers move in and out of her opening, my palm brushing over her hard clit. I move my fingers out, wet with her juices and move them up to her clit, massaging the little bundle of nerves lightly before gliding my fingertips through her juices and back inside her.

“I don’t want you to move out,” I murmur, my cock straining against my jeans as I feel her core tightening around my fingers as I slide in and out, paying attention to her clit before I circle her opening and slide back in again.

“Oh,” she moans, her body beginning to shake against me. Using my other hand, I reach up and massage her breast, rolling her nipple between my fingers as I graze the rough stubble on my face over the soft skin of her neck. She comes undone, her body bucking against mine as a long low moan rolls out of her throat while she comes.

Releasing her breast, I reach down and free my cock, moving her robe to the side as I withdraw my fingers from inside her, and push her panties down to the floor. Then I grip her hip with one hand, and place the other on the center of her back, urging her to lean forward as I bend with her and enter her tight pussy from behind.

I let out a moan as her warm walls surround me, squeezing my dick with a pressure that causes me to hiss with the pleasure of it as I begin to move. She arches her back and reaches up, her fingers spearing into my hair and pulling at my blond locks. It feels fucking amazing, and when I respond by reaching around and playing with her sensitive clit, it isn’t long before we’re exploding together, crying out and groaning with the intensity of it all. I grab her chin and turn her head so I can kiss her mouth and absorb her moans.

“Don’t move out,” I whisper, and she nods, before I kiss her again, long and slow, making her mine.

At first, our affair follows a pattern of passionate sexual encounters that could happen at any time during the day. It gets so I’m not sure where Josh’s and my relationship ends, and where Dylan and I begin. It all feels so mixed up, and I don’t even know who I am anymore. I never thought I was the kind of girl who would willingly be in a relationship with two men at once. But, here I am, being the kind of woman I probably would have labeled as a whore only a couple of months ago. I would have scoffed if anyone said to me that they were in love with two men at once. I would have called them greedy. I would have called them foolish. But, I never would have called them Avery. I never would have dreamed that woman could be me. I’ve always done the right thing…

The guilt is surprisingly easy to live with. I hate it, but I can exist with it. It pulls at the back of my mind, is a constant unsettled feeling in my stomach. It causes me to eat less and lose weight. But, I exist, and the lies and the excuses roll of my tongue like water from a fountain. And I can’t seem to stop. I don’t know how to end this. I don’t know how to choose. They are different men, and I love them for different reasons. And I
can’t seem to stop
.

I seem to be able to reconcile all of my emotions when I dance. The fall session of college is almost due to start, and my doctors have given my ankle the all clear. It still gets a little sore at times, but I can move just as well as I could before, which makes me so happy because when I dance, I’m free. When I dance I belong to no one. When I dance, I am simply one with the music, and it’s truly a magical feeling. Dancing keeps me sane…

With my iPod set in the dock, I select the recent 2Cellos album and begin my work out. Both Josh and Dylan have left for work, and I’m here on my own, with nothing but my mind for company. So the first thing I do is start the music to work on my form.

I push the furniture to the side of the room, and start with a few basic moves, warming and lengthening my muscles before I raise my hands above my head, close my eyes, and begin…

Watching Avery dance is a sight to behold. She’s so amazingly graceful as she moves about the room with abandon. She dances feelings. Sometimes I see her dancing sadness. Sometimes, I see her dancing joy. Today, I see her dancing confusion, her movement fluid but erratic as she moves to the music.

By the sheen on her skin, she’s been at it for hours. There’s some sort of modern classical music thumping out of the speakers and she doesn’t miss a beat. She’s beautiful. She’s mesmerizing. I can’t stop watching.

I lean against the doorway, quietly observing her movement, seeing her emotions played out in front of me. Her turmoil confronts me, pulls at my insides and makes it hard for me to watch, even though I can’t tear my eyes away.

This isn’t the first time I’ve come home to find her dancing. Most of the time, I wait for the right moment and catch her in my arms before ravishing her body with my mouth. I live for her taste, and the feel of her skin beneath my fingers. I long to be inside her, and I feel incomplete without being near her. I could never give her up, and I won’t. I need her.

But, I see the turmoil my need puts her through. She loves Josh. She loves me too. And while I know that I’m the other man, I can’t help but feel insanely jealous about the moments she’s with him instead of me. I drive myself mad thinking about what they might be doing. Does she moan for him the way she does for me? Does she quiver beneath his touch? Does she come with him like she does for me? Does she call out his name? Does she miss me – my touch, my smell, my voice, my mouth? Does his touch drive her wild?

Does she really feel like she belongs with him? More than she does with me?

For me, the choice is easy. In my mind, that girl is mine – that girl is everything. There is no one else for me, and it’s hard to know that there’s someone else for her. But, I chose this. I chose to try and steal her away. Except, I didn’t steal her at all. All I’m doing is borrowing her, when I know he isn’t around. Then I’m finding ways to keep busy and out of their way when he’s here. I’ve separated myself from my friend, so I don’t have to look him in the eye and know that we’ve both given our hearts to the same girl. I’ve quit talking to him, so I don’t have to deal with the guilt of knowing that I keep a secret that will stomp his heart into the ground and destroy any sort of trust he willingly gives to those around him. I know what I’m doing. I know what we’re doing. I should walk away. I should put an end to it. But, I can’t. I need her…I need her to choose. And I need her to choose me.

I thought I could be patient. I thought I could wait until she naturally made the decision on her own. But, watching her dance, watching her confusion, it makes me understand that she doesn’t know what to do. It makes me understand that if I want her as mine, and mine alone, I’ll have to force the issue. She isn’t making the decision on her own.

Moving over to the dock, I hit pause on the music, and Avery stops and turns toward me, a startled look on her face.

“I didn’t hear you come in,” she pants, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she moves to the table and picks up a small towel to wipe over her face before she takes a drink from a sports bottle. “Is everything all right?” She frowns, as she tilts her head to the side and looks into my face.

“You’re confused – troubled,” I state, moving toward her.

She presses her lips together and shrugs. “Of course I am. Aren’t you?”

I shake my head, reaching out to slide my hands around her waist and pull her against me. “No,” I murmur. “I’m not confused about you at all.”

She drops her eyes and looks at my chest, her fingers moving gently over the cotton of my shirt. “It’s not you I’m confused about. I’m confused about what we’re doing.”

“What are we doing, Rusty?” I ask, brushing my lips against her forehead, and she lets out a slow breath. I can feel her desire hum off her body.

“We…we’re having an affair,” she whispers, lifting her eyes up to meet mine.

I shake my head, and move my hand, brushing the strands of her red hair away from her face. “No Rusty
we
aren’t. I’m not having an affair at all. The only girl I’m interested in being with is you.” A tear falls from her eye, and she drops her face so she isn’t looking at me anymore. I hook my finger under her chin and lift her face and wait until her eyes meet mine again. “This isn’t going to go away, Rusty. And this isn’t going to work long term. You’re going to have to make a decision. We can’t keep sneaking around like this. It’s only going to tear us all apart.”

She closes her eyes and shakes her head. “I don’t know what to do,” she cries.

Sliding my hands on either side of her face, I move my thumbs against the soft skin along her cheekbones. “Yes you do, Rusty. You know exactly what to do. You’re just too scared to make a choice.” Then I tilt my head and press my lips lightly to hers, kissing her tenderly before pulling away and walking out the door. I don’t go back home for a week, and it’s the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do.