Chapter 16
Harper
Taylor’s blowing my phone up now and I don’t get it.
First, he walks out in a huff after I start questioning things (and I maintain that those were legitimate questions), and now he’s saying he needs to see me.
Is this all about the sex? Is he without it for a day and then he needs to be with me?
It doesn’t escape me that he has a game tomorrow too.
Maybe he needs to clear his head by clearing his balls. Not my problem.
I can admit that I’m glad he brought me burritos and iced tea because I feel so much less hungover. But it doesn’t change the fact that he won’t answer me about the whole cheating thing. If he’s not actually cheating, then why can’t he just say that? The way he got so defensive seems sketchy.
I need another opinion. I can’t keep obsessing over this in my own head.
Allie will be able to set me straight. She’s the one who put this whole thing in my mind in the first place.
She needs to answer for that crime. With drinks.
Yeah, yeah, I went out last night, and I doubt Taylor will bring me burritos again tomorrow morning, but I’m doing it anyway.
“Allie, get dressed.”
“Why, what are we doing?”
“Lamenting over the ruins of my love life. Again”
“What did he do?”
“I don’t know. Maybe nothing. But you put these ideas in my head so you’re gonna dance it out with me while I drown myself in Manhattans. Extra cherries.”
“Fair enough. Meet me downtown in twenty?”
“Yes. Make sure there’s a Manhattan waiting for me. Well, bourbon, and open a tab.”
“This is gonna be a long night, isn’t it?”
“Maybe.”
I have a closet full of party clothes so finding something to wear isn’t difficult.
I grab one of my favorite bandage dresses (I know it’s so 2010), fluff up my hair, throw on some eyeliner, and take my jacket and purse from the hook by the door.
I’d chosen a pair of flats for my shoes and taken a shower earlier so the rest is done. Time to meet Allie.
“He didn’t say he wasn’t cheating on me, though,” I say after another swig. I’m on my third Manhattan since I got here. “Then he got all defensive.”
“I mean, can you blame him?” Allie is sipping her drink a lot slower than I am.
“Yes! Why wouldn’t I? He was away for a game and then he came back and didn’t talk to me for almost a week. What explanation is there for that?”
“Okay, I know I said some things, but you made a lot of sense too. You’ve known Taylor for years. Are you just forgetting about that?”
“No, actually it’s part of my thinking. I’ve seen him go through woman after woman like they don’t matter to him. Why should I think I’m any different?”
“Because you’re not just any other woman. Come on, Harper.”
I down the rest of my drink and then wave my glass in the air. They know us here. They know what that’s about.
“I just… want a way to be sure.”
“I don’t think you’re ever gonna get that. I’m sorry.” She puts her hand on my shoulder.
When my next drink comes, I hide a couple tears in the action of taking a sip but I’m not fooling Allie. She knows everything.
“Maybe you should get an Uber. Are you sure you wanna be here?”
Suddenly those drinks catch up with me and I feel like she’s right. I get my phone out and pull up the Uber app but it almost slips out of my hand. Allie takes my phone from me.
“Here, let me make sure you put in your apartment and not Taylor’s house.”
“Ha ha, very funny.”
I stretch out and notice I still have a drink in my hand as I almost spill it. Allie grabs it before that happens and hands me back my phone.
“Here, you have six minutes to make it to the front door.”
“You’re not coming with me?”
“I’m gonna make sure the right person is picking you up but then yeah you should go back home by yourself. Drink water. Eat some bread.”
“Fine.”
When I get home, I realize Taylor has stopped blowing up my phone and I still haven’t answered him.
I’m hoping maybe the rubber number eighty-five will do.
In my drunkenness, I pull him out of my nightstand, dress on, panties off, and I go for it with my favorite pulsating setting.
I’m coming way too quickly and then it’s over.
Despite finding some release, I’m still not satisfied, just like with the real Taylor.
Not that he ever had trouble satisfying me that way but right now I’m dissatisfied with his answers.
And his weird mixed messages. I roll over and let the tears come, stopped by a message popping up on my phone from Allie.
Allie: Don’t forget to drink water.
Right, no burritos left. Four Manhattans. That’s not a good mix. I head to the kitchen to fill up my water cup, then resume the tears in my bed. I don’t want this. I don’t want any of it.