16. Piper
16
PIPER
Ant doesn’t call. Not that I want him to call. Just that he said he would call, and he hasn’t. For five days, not that I’ve been waiting for it, just that I noticed.
I don’t see him either. Not anywhere. I spend the first couple of days freaking out and hiding in my apartment, but when nothing happens, I get more adventurous and return to my regular life. I’m not disappointed. That would be silly. I don’t want to talk to him, or see him. I just want to get back to normal. Which is exactly what I try to do. By the next Saturday, I’m ready to invite my amazing friends over for dinner just so I don't have to spend another night alone. I make them spinach lasagna. Anam brings two bottles of cheap champagne, and Kelly brings a huge salad. Once the second bottle of champagne is opened, I spill and tell them everything about Ant. Every. Single. Detail.
It’s the only thing they want to talk about from that moment forward.
“Ugh, he’s so creepy.” Kelly shivers, she pours more champagne into the coffee mug she is using in lieu of a flute.
“I guess I’ve read too many dark romance books, because the stalking sounds kinda hot to me.” Anam laughs.
“It’s so, definitely, not hot.” Kelly puts a reassuring hand on my shoulder, and shoots Anam a look that makes Anam roll her eyes.
”Watching you all the time. He could have seen you doing anything.” Anam waggles her eyebrows.
Kelly furrows hers. “Yes, exactly.”
“Yeah, exactly .” Anam grins wickedly.
Yikes, he might have seen me doing anything. Eating, undressing, fucking. ? ? 1 My stomach flips at the idea. I can’t believe part of me is in agreement with Anam.
“It’s just my stupid luck,” I admit. “The first guy I attempt to have a one-night stand with, the best sex I’ve ever had, is also a stalker?”
“Ooof, girl. The best ever?” Anam’s eyes go wide. “I mean, I’m sure you can have more really good sex with other people.” She tries to cover for her slip.
“I think you should go to the cops,” Kelly says.
I run my fingers across Mercutio’s chin. He leans into my hand hard and purrs. After a brief back-and-forth for the adoption, Bailey brought him to my house. He’s been the best cuddler and already has far too many toys.
“Go to the cops for what?” I ask. “Because I found a couple pieces of trash at his house? The cops aren’t going to DNA test a lip balm when he hasn’t threatened me, or tried to hurt me. I haven’t even actually seen him following me.”
“He’s still a monster,” Kelly mutters.
“Cryptids aren’t monsters,” I say, feeling slightly defensive.
“No, I mean figuratively a monster, for making you scared to even go outside,” she clarifies.
“I’m just so disappointed. We had such a nice time, we were together all weekend, and he was never anything but sweet. Even when I yelled at him. He just kind of accepted it, like he knew exactly what he did wrong.” The image of his sad eyes and drooping antennae are embedded in my brain.
“He could be dangerous, Piper.”
“Yeah. He could be—” I suck in a ragged breath. “Or I could be overreacting?”
“Girl, no. You reacted totally appropriately. I absolutely would have cussed him out.” Anam barely takes a breath before she continues. “Are you going to see him again?”
“Of course she isn’t,” Kelly says.
“Of course not,” I agree much more hesitantly. I catch Anam’s eye who gives me a knowing smile.
“Do you want to stay with us for a while?” Kelly asks. “Sleep on the couch?”
“Or stay with me for a couple days?” Anam asks.
Anam is a biologist—a professor on the tenure track at the local university. She’s completely dedicated to her job. She lives in a tiny third story walk-up just off campus. If I went there I’d be sleeping on a broken futon covered in research journals.
My other option is staying with Kelly and Jeremy. A happy couple, who are both semi-successful artists. Doing well enough that they don’t need secondary jobs, as long as they share a studio apartment that acts as both their apartment and art studio. The only thing separating the couch I’d be sleeping on and their bed would be a thin privacy curtain.
“No. No. It’s fine. I can’t leave Mercutio alone,” I tell them. “And work is slammed right now.”
“Are you sure that you’re alright all on your own?” Kelly expression is pitying.
“I’m fine,” I mutter. “How is the show coming along, Kelly?”
“Fantastic. Amazing. Stressful.” She grins. “You are both coming, right?”
“We’ll be there with bells on.” Anam laughs.
“Because I need to get butts in seats!” Kelly grins.
“There are going to be seats?”
“Absolutely not. You will be aimlessly wandering around a mostly white room, drinking boxed wine, and eating sweaty cheese and crackers.”
“And pretending that we could possibly afford to buy one of your very beautiful paintings.” Anam rolls her eyes.
“They are very competitively priced.” Kelly smirks. “And I promise that when Jeremy and I have made it big you will both get invited to so many more exciting art shows. Bring a date if you can. We need more people, to give the event the appearance of popularity.”
“Ugh. No,” I mutter. “I am coming alone. I am never dating again.”
“Yes, Piper and I are going to become hot old cougars and wear hot pants and date younger men.” Anam nods.
“No. No. No. Piper has every excuse to be alone. But Anam you need a boyfriend,” Kelly announces, pouring more champagne into both of their makeshift champagne glasses.
“No. Ew. No.”
“We all know it’s the only way to true happiness.” Kelly laughs.
“It’s true,” I say. “I plan to never have happiness ever again. Anam it’s not too late for you.”
Anam sighs loudly and rolls her eyes dramatically.
“And the only thing that could possibly make you happier would be a husband .” Kelly smirks.
“Eww, no.” Anam groans.
“Wouldn’t that be just the best!” Kelly continues teasing. “Can’t you picture her now, walking down the aisle in a beautiful white dress?!”
“Nooooo!” Anam wails dramatically.
“She would make such a beautiful bride.” I nod to Kelly. “Dedicating her heart to one person for the rest of her life.”
“Never!” Anam yells jokingly.
“With His and Hers towels in the bathroom!” Kelly says.
“I would rather die!” Anam collapses dramatically onto my living room carpet, keeping her glass of cheap champagne carefully level so she doesn’t spill a drop. “I will never allow myself to succumb to the pressures of monogamy!”
My friends hang out, discussing all the random boring parts of life that are fascinating when you talk about them with the right people, until we’ve finished the second bottle of champagne. When Kelly and Anam finally leave for the night, all that’s left is me, the cat, and my frustrated libido.
The apartment feels so empty without anyone here, when the shadows get long at night, it’s hard not to think about having someone to live with again.
Once again, it’s not Colin’s face I’m picturing. I’m thinking about Ant’s dark silhouette. Even though I have been doing everything in my power to kick him out of my subconscious. It’s hard to even look at certain pieces of media without thinking about him. I can’t see Star Trek without thinking about how Geordie is his favorite character, or play Smash Brothers without knowing he always picks Link ? ? 2 .
It’s hard not to think about him a lot. I haven’t managed to orgasm since I left Ant’s apartment that weekend. My regular toys haven't really done it for me this week. It shouldn't be a big deal. It’s only been a couple days, but I can’t manage to get there.
Crap. I am such an idiot.
I can’t believe I’ve lost my orgasm.
I blame Ant, of course.
I’ve tried every vibrator in my arsenal. I’ve watched or read every kind of porn I can think of. I’ve even researched new kinks. Still nothing.
It’s not that I’m not horny. I am. I seem to be very horny all of the time. It’s just that my parts can’t seem to connect with my brain and allow my one brief moment of complete relaxation.
It’s embarrassing and frustrating.
So naturally, tonight, after I’ve consumed several glasses of champagne, I’m feeling antsy. I wash my face, drop my glasses beside my bed, and just as I am about to pull my shirt over my head ,I realize I’ve left the bedroom curtains wide open, letting in the moonlight.
One week, and I’m already being stupid.
I pull my bedroom curtains closed. There’s a blurry figure on the roof across the street, watching me. Just standing stock still and staring at my apartment.
Crap. It’s him. I duck back against the wall, my heart pounding in my chest. It’s him. It has to be him. Standing there, watching me. Like the freak he is.
“You think I won’t call the cops?” I say, even though my windows are closed and I’m sure he can’t hear me. “You think I’m too stupid to see you? I’m just going to ignore this? I’m just going to let you watch me? Invade my privacy?”
Why is that idea so hot?
A glance back at the window shows the figure hasn’t moved.
Crap, I shouldn’t be turned on right now.
“Get a good look, buddy!” I yell to my empty room. I flash my middle finger toward the window. “You gross, peeping tom. You think I’m just going to lie here and be your good little pet? You can watch me, and I won’t do anything about it?”
I’m breathing heavily. I reach across the room to grab my glasses and my phone. My hand pauses at the handle to my toy drawer.
Crap, why is this working? The idea that he can see me? That he’s watching me?
I shove my glasses up my nose and unlock my phone. I look across the street again and it’s not him. It’s not anyone. Through the clarity of 20/20 vision, I see the figure isn’t a Mothman at all. It’s a shadow the moon is casting against a wall.
I take off my glasses to double check.
Yep. Just a shadow. No one is watching me.
Crap, I’m so stupid, and still so oddly turned on.
That’s infuriating. I press my hand between my legs, the pressure lighting up those glorious sparks I’ve been missing, there’s a wetness forming too.
If he was out there, right now, he’d see everything. I run my fingers across my clit, it makes me crave more.
What if he was out there? Hunting me. Watching me, waiting for this moment where he gets a brief glimpse of what he really wants to see. Me fucking myself.
I snatch my vibrator from my nightstand. ? ? 3 It was my favorite when I was with Colin. The first thing I picked up when he wasn’t around to get offended.
He never wanted us to use toys together.
But I don’t need a man, I don’t need a cryptid, I don’t need anyone. I have myself, my fingers, my tools, and my fantasies in my brain.
Screw him. Screw that stupid Mothman. With his perfect dick and the perfect way his tongue attached to me. I don’t need him. The memory of him is enough, of his cock filling me, the way his purr seemed to hit every nerve in my body, the way his mouth found that perfect spot.
I come twice on my vibrator. Loud and wet, and I’m proud of myself for not whispering his name. I collapse into my empty bed. The endorphins flooding my brain bring me a brief moment of clarity. I can’t keep doing this. I have to stop thinking about him. I have to cut him out of my brain. I can’t exist in this weird half-life where I am scared of the only male that makes me come when I think about him.
1 ? Masterbating furiously when Colin was out of the house because I didn’t come while we were fucking.
2 ? Ant is convinced that Link is the best character., despite the obvious evidence to the contrary.
3 ? Old faithful, because I always blow right on time with this one.