Winning Back Ryan (33 page)

             
I glanced over at him as he hid his emotions well, his face stoic.

             
“Yeah,” I replied softly, “I suppose you would know a thing or two about that.” We both tossed a ceramic hard at the same time, releasing our pent up frustration. I sighed, trying to explain. “I just don’t know how to connect with women. In Ohio, all the girls were jealous of me. I was friends with all the guys that they wanted to date. They thought that gave me some kind of ‘in’. That I was going to sleep with them all. They had no idea how firmly I was in the friend category. I’m just naturally more comfortable around guys. It’s what I’ve grown up with. It’s what I’m used to.”

I tossed another figurine into the cement overpass right onto the graffiti writing.

              “Do you know what I think? I think you’re not as innocent as you pretend to be.”

             
I tried to hide the smile pulling at the corner of my lips. “I don’t know what you mean.”

             
“I think you do,” he insisted, shaking a figurine of two doves at me.

             
“Perhaps you’re on to something.”

             
“Ahuh. Spill the beans, Princess.” His figurine shattered against the wall.

             
I turned towards him fully. “What do you want to know?”

             
“The lingerie thing. Why no lingerie? There’s a reason. There must be a reason.”

             
I sighed, the warmness from the alcohol reaching my toes. “I supposed you’ve earned that.” Ben waited expectantly. “When Ryan and I first started having sex, I made a deal with his roommate to not come back that night. When I showed up, I was wearing skimpy lingerie, and I…may have done a dance for him using his chair and music.”

             
Ben stood there gaping until he finally said, “Holy shit.” I picked up another ceramic and tossed it with all of my might against the wall trying to avoid his gaze.  “And?”

             
“And when he was drunk one night, he said some nasty comments about it.” I shrugged. “Maybe I’ve been secretly punishing him for it since by wearing ridiculously large, unsexy, cotton briefs.”

             
“Did he say asshole things to you often when he was drunk?” he asked, his voice tender.

             
“Ryan is a great guy when he’s sober. But, when he drinks, I’ve never met a bigger asshole in my life. It’s as if all the pain, rage, anger, and hatred that he felt or was spewed at him as a child he bottles up and only releases when he drinks.” I glanced down for a moment. “It gets to me.”

             
“What did he say to you?” he asked with more force than he probably intended.             

             
I shook my head. “Enough that it scarred me. Let’s put it this way. Ryan was my first. Is there anything more painful in the world than the person you love, after finally baring yourself to him, essentially telling you that you’re not good enough?”

             
“So, why did you stay?” he asked.

             
“Because when he sobered up and realized what an asshole he was, he always apologized and said he didn’t mean it. Then, he would let me in and tell me a story about his childhood. There were never any happy stories. I mean some of them were…” I shook my head as a tear ran down my cheek. “I have no idea how he survived, and he normally ended up crying hysterically in my arms. I never was sure if he meant the shit he said when he was drunk or if he just said it to lash out in pain. But, after a while…” I shook my head. “That stuff starts to eat away at even the most confident of people.”
              “Yeah, it does, Princess,” he replied, his voice still tender.

             
I sighed. “And here we are.”

             
“So what else have you been pretending to be innocent about?” he asked. I rolled my eyes at him. “If you tell me, I’ll buy you dinner.”

             
“Alright, you can’t tell him. If you do, I’ll tell Brian you tried to grope me.”

             
His eyes widened. “You wouldn’t.”
              I tossed up the figurine in my hand, catching it. “Try me.”
              A mix of desire and appreciation ran through his eyes. “This is why you’re my friend. Very well, Princess, you have my silence.”

             
“I told Brian that Ryan had never given me an orgasm.” I smiled widely. “It was a complete lie.”
              His brows knitted together. “Why would you-”

             
“Because what guy wants to hear that my ex gave me orgasms so intense that sometimes I shiver just thinking about them? Why else would I put up with Ryan’s crap for so long? Because I knew that whenever we fought, his apologies would make my toes curl.” Ben stood there staring at me blankly. “So, I told a little white lie that Ryan was a shitty lover and I never orgasmed. Now Brian has something to work towards without fear that he’ll never be a better lover than Ryan. Everyone wins.” I bent over picking up another figurine from the basket.

             
“You are a fucking evil genius,” Ben finally replied, admiration clear in his voice.

             
I bowed again. “Thank you.”

             
“So what other secrets are you hiding?” he asked, unbridled curiosity shining in his eyes.

             
I shrugged. “Sometimes I act a little helpless around you guys, so that you feel the need to explain things to me or do things for me. Harmless white lies that boost your ridiculously large, alpha male egos and make you feel appreciated.”

             
“What else?” he demanded, shock ringing through his words.

             
I tossed the ceramic hard against the wall. “I’m a ridiculous pool shark. Like I could hustle anyone and wipe the floor clean with them.”

             
“What! How the fuck am I just finding out about this now?”

             
“I come from an agricultural town. Not much to do. So, we played pool a lot at the one billiard in town. My friends felt the need to teach me, always giving me tips, trying to help me out.  It made them feel better. Eventually, all those tips added up.” I shrugged. “I didn’t tell you, because I didn’t want you guys to know.”

             
“Bullshit. We gotta play.” I could hear the surprise in his words.

             
I smiled at him. “You won’t even get a shot in if I go first. I’ll wipe the floor with your ass.” He closed his eyes, pressing his lips together tightly. Finally, he shook his head. “What?”

             
“I am ridiculously hard right now,” he admitted.

             
I snorted. “Nice to see that you’re…so easily excitable.”

             
“So, why don’t you hustle for money?” he asked, ignoring my jab.

             
I shook my head. “Because hustling is illegal. I don’t break the law.”

             
“Oh, no?” He smirked. “Do you realize that if a cop came by now we could be arrested for breaking like three different laws?”

             
“In that case,” I picked up the last statue. “We better get going.” I flung it with all of my might into the wall before picking up my pocketbook that was lying in the middle of the street.

Ben took my hand and we ran down the road and into the night.

             
“What else?” he asked three blocks later arm-in-arm.

             
I shook my head. “That’s it.” He didn’t seem satisfied with my answer.  I rolled my eyes. “Oh, come on. I’m still the same girl you knew yesterday. I’m still a little naïve. I’ve only slept with one man; I’ve never done drugs other than weekend drinking. I’m still pretty straight-laced. I occasionally lie to a friend to make them feel wanted and appreciated. What’s wrong with that? Everyone needs to feel like that.”

             
He shook his head. “You’re something else.”

             
“Oh, look!” I shouted, pointing ahead. Ben looked ahead at the large park in front of us. “Do you have any idea where we are?” I whispered. He shook his head. I laughed so hard that I snorted. “Come on; let’s go see what trouble we can get into over there.”

             
We walked through the park for a while before I complained about my feet hurting from my high heels. In front of me, I saw a fountain, so I let go of Ben’s arm, running towards the monument.

I yanked off my heels, tossing them and my pocketbook onto the ground before climbing into the fountain.

              “What are you doing?” he shouted in exasperation.

             
“Cooling off,” I explained as I began running around in a circle. When I made my way around to him, I splashed him with water. “Come on in.”

He glanced down at his now wet clothes, then up at me.

              “That’s it. You’re going to get it now.” I shrieked as I began running in a circle, wading through the water, making sure that I didn’t slip on the coins littering the bottom of the fountain. I heard splashing behind me, so I knew he was gaining on me. I turned around, kicking water, spraying him from head to toe. He wiped the water off his face, before splashing me with water, his strong arms being able to spray me with more water that I could ever hit him with in one try.

             
My hair and polka-dotted dress were soaked, and I wrung my hair out before shrieking and running away from him.

             
“Watch out! I’m gonna getcha!” he shouted as we ran around the fountain. On one trip around, I was looking behind me and smashed right into his chest. When I looked up, I realized he had figured out to run in the opposite direction. He flashed me a cocky grin as his hands grabbed my arms to keep me from falling over as I laughed loudly. I placed my hands on his chest to steady myself more as the world began to spin, feeling the wet cotton beneath my fingertips, his chest heaving. I glanced up into his whiskey-colored eyes, who were staring down at me with an emotion I couldn’t place. They slowly made their way down my face, stopping on my lips before his brows pulled together.  He took a step backwards, and then hopped out of the fountain.

             
The world was still spinning, though, so I stumbled backwards and held on to the statue in the middle of the fountain, throwing my arms around the marble. I wrapped my right leg around the base, while my head rested against cool tile as the water sprayed down onto my body. I licked a drop of water hanging from my upper lip and when I opened my eyes I found Ben looking at me with that same expression I had never seen on his face before.

             
“Why did you get out?” I asked.

             
“Someone needs to watch out for the cops while you frolic around like a faerie.”

             
With my head still against the cool stone, I said, “What can I say? Every once in a while, a girl needs to frolic.”

             
I could feel rather than see his smile. “In that case, keep on frolicking, Princess, just be ready to run when I tell you to.”

I yawned while enjoying the feeling of the water pouring down on my overheated, alcohol flushed face.
              “God broke the mold when he made you, Ben.” I rolled my stiff neck to listen to it crack. “He really outdid himself that day.”

Chuckling, he pulled his cigarettes out of his back pocket. He opened them, and groaned in annoyance before sliding them back into his jeans.

              “Too wet to smoke? What a shame.” Part of me thought that I was being a brat for mocking him.

             
He threw me a half-dirty glare, though he smirked. “Just get your dancing out now. I still need to get some food in you.”

             
“Yes, food does sound good,” I admitted.

             
“Let me guess. You skipped dinner.” I heard the tone of disapproval in his voice.

             
“Maybe.”

He made a
tsking noise, and I didn’t bother to defend myself. He was right; I had been stupid.

             
“Come on. Let’s get you some food.” I released the marble statue, walking towards him. I stumbled to get out of the fountain, and he caught me before I fell. He shook his head. “You’re such a mess.”

I glanced down at my shoes and grimaced. My feet were still killing me.

              “Do I have to wear them?”

             
He rolled his eyes. “You can hop on my back while I hail a cab.”

             
I smiled widely at the idea and he turned around while I picked up my shoes and pocketbook. I wrapped my arms around his neck and jumped up. He grabbed the back of my knees as he starting jogging out of the park.

Ben groaned in annoyance as we made our way to the sidewalk.

              “What?” I asked.

             
“Wet jeans are gross,” he commented.

             
“Eh, stop your crying. We’ll be home soon, ya big baby.” I tapped the side of his hips with my ankles. “Giddy up!”

             
He chuckled loudly. “Only you could get away with this, Princess. Only you.”  He raised his arm to hail a cab.

**

              Thirty minutes later, we stood outside his apartment still soaking wet as he slid the key inside the lock.

             
“I have some clothes you can wear,” he told me as he opened the door.

I stepped inside, standing on his doormat to keep the water from dripping onto his hardwood floors. He locked the door behind him and pulled his shirt off, tossing it onto the mat. He kicked his sneakers off, and then unbuckled his belt, pulling down his wet jeans. He groaned when they hit the floor.

              “So good to be out of those.”

             
It didn’t particularly bother me that he was naked, because I was drunk and threw my modesty out the window hours ago. Besides, I had seen Ben naked in the last four years so many times, I’d lost count. He went through a ‘stripping and streaking naked while drunk’ phase for a while. He walked through the apartment unfazed, unapologetic, and not embarrassed in the least. As I watched his buttcheeks sashay back and forth, I realized he hadn’t been wearing underwear all night long.

             
“Why no boxers?” I called out.

             
“I knew we’d be going out tonight. I thought we’d be alone. I knew we’d be drinking…”

             
“I don’t understand,” I admitted.

             
“If I got hard, my cock was going to be in pain shoved up against the zipper in my pants. It was to remind me to keep it together,” he admitted. Before I could even reply he asked, “So, what do you say to Thai food?”

             
“Sure,” I replied. I cringed feeling guilty that I had been purposely trying to get him hard by rubbing against him at the bar for hours now knowing that it was causing him physical pain.

             
I heard him speaking into the phone in a language I didn’t understand as he came back into the living room and tossed me some clothes. He turned around, walking over to the window, his back to me, as he finished his call. I pulled the dress over my head and tossed it on the ground along with my bra and panties. I put on the t-shirt and gym shorts he gave me, rolling them up several times for them to stay on my hips.

             
Ben did not turn towards me or take a peak until I said, “I’m decent.”

             
He turned around, smiling, winking. “The food should be here in a half hour.”

I glanced over to the statue sitting on his coffee table.

              With all the liquor in my system, it was easy to ask, “Is that statue of me?”

             
He glanced at the statue, then at me. “Yes.” He breathed out. “You pissed?”

I blinked. I always had a sneaking suspicion, but now that I knew the truth.

              “I…I don’t know what to think. I’ve never had art made about me.”

             
He smirked. “You’ve influenced a lot of things that I’ve made.”

I glanced sideways at him. He was always so difficult to read.

              “Why is that?”

             
“You come to me in shapes and colors. It's why it’s so easy for me to paint or sculpt you,” he explained.

             
“I don’t understand,” I admitted, “But, I don’t have an artist’s mind.”

             
He shook his head. ”I’m not an artist. I just…make stuff.”

             
I blinked at his words. “What colors am I right now then?”

He tilted his head and his eyes became unfocused.

              “A vibrant pink with outlining splashes of red. The background is bright green.” He walked over to his kitchen cabinet, taking out a new pack of cigarettes. After pulling one out, he lit it using the stove burner. When he stood up, turning off the flame, he pulled the cigarette out of his mouth and said, “I told you that you would forever be my muse and my tease.” He exhaled his smoke. “I meant it.”

It was the way he said those words, as though they were somehow a goodbye that caught me off guard.
              “You make it sound like I’m going somewhere.”

             
He smiled mirthlessly. “Brian’s not going to be as accepting of your friendships as Ryan was. Choices will have to be made.” Pain flashed through his eyes. “And I know who you’re going to choose.” He swal              lowed hard, and I watched the Adam’s apple bob in his throat. “I just want to savor these last few moments with you.” He looked down for a moment before glancing back up. Our eyes met and he blurted out, “You have no idea how much I wish I had met you first.”

I didn’t understand why he was so melancholy.  I walked over to him standing in the kitchen, placing my hand on his stubbly cheek. I ignored the smell of his cigarette despite it turning my stomach.

              “Hey, nothing’s been decided, and I haven’t said anything. Relax, Ben.” But, his eyes remained sad. I couldn’t bear to see him that way. “We’re supposed to be on a date, remember? You’re a ridiculous buzzkill.”

             
He chuckled at that, smiling. “Alright, Princess, you win.” His entire demeanor changed as he leaned back, smiling.

             
“Do you want to see something?” he asked.

             
I nodded enthusiastically. “Sure.” He disappeared into his bedroom while I rooted through his refrigerator, taking out two beers.

             
I opened the drawer where I knew the bottle opener would be, and after missing the cap twice was able to pop the tops off. I followed him into the bedroom, finding him on the bed. I held out the beer for him to take. 

I glanced down.

              “What’s this?” I asked.

He tapped the bed besides me and I sunk into the mattress.

In front of us was a large silver photo album. He opened and I looked inside to find a relatively young, maybe fourteen-year-old, Ben looking back at me from a runway.

             
“You were a model?” I asked.

He nodded as he slowly flipped the page.

              “Did you enjoy it?”

             
He shook his head. “It’s a horrible industry. My mom pushed me to do it. She had been a model. She thought I would like it.”

             
“So why did you do it?” I asked, my chin resting on his shoulder as I looked at the pictures.

             
He remained quiet for a while until he finally admitted, “Because I wanted to spend time with her. While I modeled, she came to every shoot, every show.”

             
“But, you hated it,” I said before taking a sip of my beer.

             
“The modeling world is a lonely place. But, it wasn’t all bad. Lots of beautiful women to sleep with.”

             
I snorted. “Sleep with? You were like what fourteen in this picture?”

He tapped a photo of him walking down a walkway, half-dressed.