Chapter Fifteen
chapter fifteen
MAY
“Shhh!” I giggle as I try to quietly shut the front door.
Hands grab my waist from behind me before a sloppy, slightly drunk kiss is pressed to my neck. “I’m sure your roommate won’t mind. Surely she can appreciate that you’re having a good time.”
I spin around in my date’s hands. “ He would probably kill me in my sleep, and you, for that matter.”
“You’ll have to keep it down then.” He fumbles with the zipper on my leather pants. I don’t turn the lights on, not wanting to alert Rafael of our presence.
“Let’s at least get to the bedroom first,” I say in between kisses. This guy is cute, nothing crazy, but I haven’t gotten laid in a criminal number of weeks, and he was more than happy to fulfill my urges. Even if I can’t quite remember his name.
“Where’s the fun in that?” he says, picking me up and placing me on the countertop. I can feel the cool stone through my pants as his tongue meets my neck again. I moan at the sensation against my skin. The presence of alcohol in my system is making my skin tingle a little extra under his messy touch.
He grabs at the hem of my shirt and pulls it over my head, exposing my pink lace bra. “Fuck, your tits are perfect,” he says, palming them through the fabric .
His words make me cringe internally as his hands roam over my chest. All of a sudden, I’m in my head. Maybe I shouldn't have gone out tonight. Maybe I shouldn't have brought this guy home. It was a dumb idea. Especially considering whose kitchen counter I’m sitting on. But when warm lips collide with the sensitive skin on my neck, I yank myself out of my head. After everything that’s happened over the last two weeks, I deserve to have some meaningless fun.
I lean into his touch, letting myself melt back into the present moment. I moan as his tongue trails along the skin of my neck while his fingers inch up the inside of my left thigh. This guy knows his erogenous zones .
I moan once more before the room bursts with light.
My eyes slam shut instinctively, and my companion groans at the sudden explosion of light in the room.
“We really need to stop meeting like this.” Rafael stands at the end of the hallway, arms crossed over his naked chest.
My breath stalls when I notice he’s only wearing a pair of gray track pants that sit low on his waist, but my brain jolts my body back into action when I see his eyes boiling with anger as they look over the guy standing in front of me who looks dumbstruck.
“Maybe you should stop interrupting me then,” I say.
“You can go,” he says to…Jeremy? Johan?
“Uh, no. You can stay.” I yank on his t-shirt, pulling him back towards me. If Rafael thinks he can dictate what I do, he’s got another thing coming.
“No, you can’t. Get out, now.”
“Rafael,” I grit out.
My date picks up his t-shirt that he’s abandoned on the floor and scurries away from me. For god's sake.
Rafael opens the door for him and slams it shut before he’s even a step out into the night.
“What the fuck?!” I jump off the island and storm towards him. “That’s two times now that you’ve interrupted my sexual endeavors, and it’s really starting to piss me off. ”
He tips his head as I march towards him. “Oh, it’s pissing you off, is it?”
“Yes! It is!” He just raises his brows at me. “How would you like it if I interrupted you?” I ask furiously as I stand extremely close to him, getting in his face as I tip my head. “Oh yeah, that's right, you haven't got laid in a while. Maybe that’s what it is, you're just jealous I–”
I don’t manage to get another word in before he grabs my wrists and wrenches them above my head, pinning me to the wall. Leaving me lost for what I was going to say, and unable to do anything but look into his deadly eyes.
It’s only now that I remember I’m not wearing a shirt, only now that Rafael’s eyes drop from mine and roam over my upper body. My chest is rising and falling quickly as my heart beats with a mixture of anger and whatever this other feeling is. Rafael’s dark eyes pierce my gaze once again.
“I don’t give a shit whether I’m interrupting you. You don’t bring other men into this house.”
“I live here now too, remember? You’re not my keeper Rafael, so stop acting like such a bloody caveman.” I put all my body weight into trying to pull my wrists from his grasp, but he pins me against the wall with his entire body, his chest pressed up against mine.
“I don’t want to spend my Friday evening listening to some drunk idiot fuck you through the walls of this house. I don’t feel like falling asleep to you moaning and screaming another guy's name.”
I can feel my chest heating at his words, my cheeks too. Partly because I’m imagining the image he’s just painted in my head, and partly because I’m so fucking angry that I can’t even think straight.
“Would you rather me scream yours?” I don’t know why I just said that.
His eyes dip to my chest again, and I don’t think I could decipher the look in his eyes if I was sober, let alone with a few too many shots of tequila pumping through my veins.
“If you want a booty call, get a motel room.”
“Fuck you,” I spit.
“You’d be so lucky.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever met someone so full of themselves.”
He scoffs. “You could be full of me too, if you like.”
I can see the sparkle in his eye that tells me just how much he’s enjoying pushing my buttons. “You’re a pig.”
“And you’re desperate. Letting random guys fuck you every week? It’s pathetic.” He looks me up and down, his eyes judging every inch of me before he shakes his head and pulls away from me, letting my hands free. “No other guys here, end of story.”
I sigh as I rub my wrists where he held them tight, before I jump as the door to his bedroom slams shut.
I lean my head back against the wall, finally letting out the breath I didn’t know I was holding, and I suddenly feel like I need to cover up. Essentially being called a slut is always the best way to end the night. Not that I’ve never heard it before—plenty of guys have had a lot to say when they find out I don’t want a relationship.
Don’t get me wrong. There are lots of guys who want exactly what I want and nothing more, but then there are the ones who want more. When they find out I don’t, they use every derogatory word in the dictionary to tell me how they feel.
I know Rafael is an ass, but I didn’t think he’d ever be the kind of guy to say that to me. To call me pathetic .
I walk over to the kitchen, pick up my shirt, and slip it over my head before making my way over to the living room. I pick up my fuzzy socks off the back of the couch and walk to my room. I hear the click of a door opening just after my own.
“May.”
But I don’t stop. I open my door and shut it, pressing my back to the door as I take a shaky breath.
Do not cry .
Do not cry.
I blow out my breath, counting to five, before I push off the wall and slide my pants down my legs and climb into bed. I’m going against my own rules, not bothering to take any of my makeup off before I shuffle under the covers, feeling defeated.
I can’t sleep.
Every time my eyelids close, Rafael’s words ring through my mind and I’m awake again. I don’t know why, it’s not like his opinion has ever mattered to me, but this time it does. I don’t take any time to dwell on that as I rip the sheets off of me and storm into the closet.
I jump to reach the bags I put on the top shelf and hastily pull them down. I yank my clothes off the rail, not bothering to take them off the coat hangers as I stuff them in my bags. I don’t have time for that; I need out. Now.
I was just starting to feel okay about staying here. Not good, it’s not good living here. But it’s been okay . And now everything is all blown up again.
It’s pathetic.
God, he may as well have just punched me in the gut. I don’t need Rafael’s judgment on top of everything else. I don’t need these words taking up the tiny sliver of my brain that was pleasantly unoccupied. The rest is filled with memories of heat crawling up my back, or wondering how much longer the repairs are going to take, or feeling like I need to stay in the confines of my bedroom as much as possible as not to bother my super fucking lovely roommate. And now this too.
I get as much of my stuff as I can into the two bags I’ll be able to carry and plop my still slightly wobbly body down on top of them, squishing everything down so I can zip them up.
I huff a sigh. This is all a bit too much like hard work, but I’m out of here.
I throw the bags over my shoulders and swing my door open, not bothering to be quiet about it. I slip my sandals on that sit by the ginormous front door—seriously, I’ll never get over why the door needs to be that fucking massive—and storm right out of it. Or more like stomp out the door right into a storm.
I didn’t realize it had started raining, and not just raining, but pouring .
I glance back into the house, and no matter how tempting the thought of my plush mattress is, I take a step out into the downpour. I put my hand over my head as if that will make any difference in this situation.
Did it have to rain tonight? It hasn’t rained once since I’ve been in Ruby Cove. Not once in the last six months and now it decided to rain, tonight of all nights.
“Shit!” I yell at the universe as I start walking down the street. Not the best time to be wearing sandals, that's for sure.
I start to run, but I don’t last long before I’m out of breath. I can barely see with the raindrops furiously dripping from my forehead and blocking my vision.My white top is now drenched and completely see through.
I don’t even know where I’m going, but I’ll walk until daylight if I have to.
I should’ve never agreed to stay at Rafael’s. I should’ve seen this coming from a mile away.
If I can figure my way to the Lost and Found in town, I could beg for a room just for the night, until I can figure out what to do next.
Headlights light up the path in front of me and I’m grateful for the fact that I can see a bit better. That is until I remember that headlights mean a car is coming up behind me.
I should’ve brought my pepper spray.
“May!” I hear my name as a muffled scream, but I ignore it…un til I can’t anymore. Rafael’s truck rumbles up beside me. He’s got the window rolled down so he can yell at me some more.
“Get in the car, May.”
I flip him off in answer as I keep walking. He doesn’t need more than that to know how I feel.
“May, it’s raining. Get in the car.”
“Really? I hadn’t noticed!” I yell.
“For fuck's sake,” he mutters before I hear him put the truck in park, but I just keep walking. I won’t turn back, not now.
A minute later, one of my bags is yanked out of my grip. “Rafael!”
“Get in the car, blondie.”
“Why on earth would I do that?” I yell through the rain.
“Where else are you going to go right now?”
“Anywhere but in your proximity.” I lunge for my bag, but he pulls it away.
“Get in the truck.”
I’m so pissed off that I just let my words fly. “You wouldn’t want a slut’s ass to ruin your precious leather seats.”
“I never called you a slut.”
“You might as well have!” My voice wavers. “Now give me my bag.”
“Not happening.”
“Fine.” I turn on my heel and continue walking, reluctantly leaving my bag in the hands of a full-blown psycho.
I hear the distinct slush noise of my bag hitting the ground behind me.
Oh yeah , definitely a psycho.
A hand grabs my arm and swings me around. “God, would you just listen to me for once in your life?!”
I don’t have anything else to say, so I just look at him. At his scruffy hair that’s now plastered to his face with water. At his chest rising and falling as he puffs like he can’t catch his breath. At his brown eyes, waiting to see if I’ll let him speak. I just stare back, letting him see that I will. I feel too defeated for another sparring match with him right now. I just want him to say what he has to say, and I’ll get back on my way.
“I’m sorry.”
I rear back like he’s hit me. “ What ?”
“I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that. You can do whatever you want with whoever you want. It’s just, god why do you do that?” His voice raises with that last sentence.
I roll my eyes. Here we go. I turn back around. I’ll grieve for my clothes later.
“Why do you let any man touch you as if you’re just anyone?”
That stops me. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
He runs a frustrated hand through his wet hair. “You’re worth more than an endless string of one-night stands, May!” I frown harder than I think I ever have before. “Will you just get in the truck?”
“No way. It was a nice attempt at an apology, but I still don’t want to live with you. I might get that hotel that you mentioned.” I go to turn away, but he takes a hold of my arm again.
“Marina will kill me if she knows I let you go like this.”
“You say that as if that’s not in my best interests.” Right now I’d dig the grave myself if it meant never seeing this prick again.
Now it’s his turn to roll his eyes before they meet mine. I could almost trick myself into thinking I see sincerity shining in them through the rain when he says, “Please?”
He holds out his hand for my remaining bag, and I hesitate. I don’t want him to get what he wants, but I’m so exhausted. So tired of fighting, and I really, truly have no idea where I’m going, so ignoring my better judgment, I hand it over to him.
He picks up the bag he dropped in a puddle and throws them into the truck bed before opening the door for me.
I slide into the passenger seat, and it is so uncomfortable. Rafael silently jumps in his side and turns on the ignition.
“Are you cold?” He asks.
I nod, and he turns on the heaters. The sound of the warm air blowing from the vents is the only sound apart from the squeak of the windshield wipers sliding back and forth the entire ride home.
I can feel Rafael looking at me, but I keep my eyes locked straight ahead for the hostile drive back to his house. I don’t have anything else to say. Not tonight, anyway.