Chapter Eighteen
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
MARK
The club is humming with its usual energy, though a little less busy than usual, but it’s not giving me the same buzz it usually does. Probably just because it’s a weeknight , I tell myself. The pulsing music and the couples filtering in and out of the back room only serve to remind me what I’m here for. I lean against the bar, nursing a drink and scanning the crowd for any familiar faces.
This is my normal routine, my way of blowing off steam and avoiding the complications of deeper relationships. There are a handful of women who frequent the club who have been casual play partners that understand my stipulations. But tonight, being here feels more like going through the motions rather than actively looking for fun.
Claire’s face keeps popping up in my mind, and it’s incredibly frustrating. What’s even more annoying is the thread of guilt tugging at my chest for even being here .
What would Claire think about this?
It shouldn’t matter , I tell myself. Sure, we kissed, but it was a one-time thing brought on by heightened emotion due to the holiday. Everyone wants someone to kiss on New Year’s Eve. It doesn’t mean anything.
And even if it did, it’s not like we’re dating. She never brought up the kiss in the two weeks since it’s happened, so we didn’t talk about it.
So why do I feel like I’m doing something wrong by being here?
Andrea, a woman I’ve known for a while, sidles up to me, a seductive smile curving her lips. Her dark hair is tied back in a ponytail, and her full hips sway as she approaches. She’s one of the few who understands the rules—no strings attached, no emotional ties, just fun.
"Hey, stranger," she purrs, brushing her fingers over my shoulder.
"Hey there. Want to have some fun tonight?"
She steps closer, and I catch a whiff of her perfume. "Of course I do. You always make me feel so good." Her voice is low and sultry in my ear, and despite the worry weighing down on me, my dick reacts to her in the way it always does.
"I know we usually stay here to play, but would you want to go back to my place instead? I’d prefer a quieter, more private environment tonight." It’s a half-truth, but I’m not even entirely sure of what the full truth is. All I know is that I don’t want to be around more people tonight, and even a private room here doesn’t feel quite private enough. I need to blow off some steam in a place that’s comfortable, and where better than my own apartment?
Andrea agrees, and I leave my mostly empty glass on the bar before we head toward the exit. Normally, I wouldn’t bring a woman home, especially with Claire around, but Claire is just starting her night class, so she won’t be home for at least another two hours.
Smiling, Andrea links her arm through mine as we make our way to my car. She’s not a very talkative woman, so the car ride is silent. I try to push aside any thoughts of Claire that pop into my head.
This is probably exactly what I need. To release some of the tension I’ve been feeling with a woman who wants the same things I do.
I lead Andrea to my bedroom, though a pang of unease shoots through me as I shut the door behind us. This is supposed to be simple and straightforward, but everything feels weird right now. Different.
Andrea slips off her coat with her eyes locked on mine. "I’ve missed this," she says as she peels off her shirt. "You haven’t been around in a while."
"I’ve had a lot going on."
Her fingertips trail down my chest, and I reach for her waist, but I hesitate, and my hand falls away.
"Well, hopefully we can get you to forget about all of that for a while."
Her words make me feel even worse. A sense of revulsion grips me, not toward Andrea, but toward what I’m doing. No matter how I twist it in my head, this feels like I’m using her to fill a void that Claire has unwittingly exposed. What the hell is wrong with me?
"I’m sorry," I say, stepping back. "I can’t do this."
Her brows furrow in confusion. "What do you mean?"
I blow out a slow breath. "I thought going to the club and finding someone to have some fun with would help this, but I don’t think I’m in the right headspace. I’m sorry. "
She shrugs but huffs a small sigh of frustration. "It’s okay," she says, plastering on a fake smile. "I just wish I would’ve known before I left the club to come here."
"I understand. I’ll pay for your ride back to the club and buy you a drink next time I’m there as penance for my stupidity."
The smile she gives me this time is a bit more genuine as she pulls her shirt and coat back on. "There’s someone else, isn’t there? That’s what has you all up in your head."
How do women always seem to have a sixth sense about these things? I swear. The resigned look I give her is enough of an answer for her to not push it.
"Well, I wish you the best of luck. Truly. Though I will say that I’ll miss our arrangement if you’re taken off the market for good."
Chuckling, I hand her a hundred-dollar bill to cover the Uber ride back to the club plus some, and she opens my bedroom door to leave. "Bye, Mark."
"Bye, Andrea." I give her an awkward wave as she heads out and sit on my bed, taking a moment to gather my thoughts. What is wrong with me? First I kiss Claire, then do my best to get things back to normal because lord knows I don’t need to be corrupting her any more than I have, and now I’m turning down perfectly good—well, really good, if I’m being honest—sex. And for what? Because I have fleeting feelings for some girl I’m never going to actually be with? Because I’ll feel guilty for sleeping with someone after kissing Claire even though I have no real reason to be guilty?
Sighing, I decide I’ll make myself some dinner to keep my hands and mind occupied. The front door latches closed, signaling Andrea’s departure. But when I step out into the hallway, I see a swish of blonde hair followed by Claire’s bedroom door closing.
Fuck.
I had planned on cooking something for dinner, but a knot formed in my stomach when I saw Claire rushing into her room at the same time Andrea left. So I decide to heat up some Spaghetti-O’s instead of cooking real food, because apparently that’s the kind of man I am now. Too anxious about a woman to focus on cooking anything, and instead microwaving fake-ass tomato soup with cute little circle noodles.
But seriously, what terrible luck that Andrea left right then. There’s no way they didn’t see each other, and I don’t know why the idea of Claire interacting with one of my fuck buddies fills me with such dread.
Andrea and I didn’t even do anything, but the thought of Claire assuming we did makes guilt eat away at me.
But why? It makes no fucking sense. That is why I brought Andrea here in the first place, after all.
That little voice in my head is screaming at me to go knock on her door and explain things to Claire, but what do I say? Hey, I brought that woman over to have sex with her because I wanted to distract myself from constantly thinking about you. But don’t worry, I kicked her out before we fucked.
Yeah, that’ll go over really well.
I eat my dinner without really tasting it then rinse out my bowl in the sink. Making my way into the living room, I decide to turn on the TV and stake claim on the couch for the evening on the off chance Claire comes out of her bedroom.
I doubt she will, though. It was evident from the first week of her living here that she isolates herself when she feels unhappy. Even with as much progress as she’s made, she still doesn’t like me to see her in any emotional state that shows vulnerability or hurt. And I’d be willing to bet that she’s not exactly happy right now.
And it’s all my fault.
God damn it, I never should have kissed her. I don’t regret it, exactly, but… it was her first kiss for fuck’s sake. She’ll never forget that. Which means she has a lot of firsts still to come, and I hate the sick thrill that gives me—that I could be all of her firsts.
But no, I can’t do that to her. Good things never last—at least not as far as people or relationships are concerned—and I refuse to put Claire in a situation like that. My one rule is to keep things temporary and strictly physical, and she’s the type of girl who deserves love and commitment.
And I can’t be the one to give her that.