Chapter 3
Chapter Three
LOUISA
It’s Friday night, and B’s childhood best friend, Iris, is visiting us in the city. Iris is a junior at the same university B just graduated from. The two of them have been inseparable since we were younger, despite being two grades apart.
Iris’s older brother, Liam, and his wife, Evie, graduated high school with me. The five of us are all going downtown to celebrate Iris’s 21st birthday.
I poke my head into B’s room and find the floor scattered with a million pieces of clothing. A thick red head of hair and a wavy mane of purple hair are squished together, taking pictures in the mirror.
“Are you guys ready to go yet?” I just got home from work an hour ago, and I’m already dressed. They have been getting ready for the past 3 hours, so in theory, they should be as well. But are they?
“No! This kind of perfection takes time,” B yells at me without even turning around .
“How much longer do you two need? Liam and Evie said they’re picking us up for dinner at 7:00.”
Iris turns around and gives me a big smile, and I can already tell she’s a little tipsy. “Louisa,” she’s the only one who calls me that, “do you think this outfit says ‘it’s my birthday, buy me a drink’? B says it looks like I’m about to walk on stage at the strip club.”
“I never said that was a bad thing!” B defends herself.
I giggle to myself, knowing she definitely meant that as a compliment. Iris is wearing a bodysuit with two strips of fabric coming up from her skirt, crisscrossing over her chest and tied around her neck, leaving her stomach and back completely exposed. On the bottom, she’s wearing a skin-tight skirt that shows every curve on her petite little body. The ensemble doesn’t leave much to the imagination, and I’m very curious how Liam is going to react to it.
“You’re very sexy and beautiful, Iris," I say, even though my sisterly instincts are to throw a big sweater over her and shield her from the world; she’s a big girl and has autonomy over her own body. Plus, if anyone tries to get handsy without Iris’s permission, B would kick their ass.
“Have you finally decided on an outfit, B?”
“No. I think I tried on everything in my closet twice. And since I gave the birthday girl my best outfit, I have nothing to wear.”
Of course that top belongs to B. “I think what you have on looks great.”
“Says the girl wearing a sweater out to a bar. Seriously, Lou, you’re not wearing that. You’re supposed to be getting some dick tonight. That sweater screams, ‘I’m boring in bed,’ and I won’t let you go out like that because I love you.” She starts rummaging through the endless pile of clothes on her floor.
“B, I’m not comfortable in this.” I look at myself in the mirror, admitting that I look hot. But I’m not comfortable being seen out in public with this much skin showing. She put me in a black crop top with a delicate chain around my hips and a skirt.
Pepin barks from the bed and gives me a disapproving look.
B notices him and comments. “Pepin, there are enough old men in the world giving their unsolicited judgments; we don’t need you against us too.”
He lays his head down on his front paws as if giving up the fight. Even he knows there’s no winning when B is on her feminist soap box. “I told you, Lou, this is what people wear. You’re not going to stick out. If anything, you’ll actually blend in more.”
“Fine,” I concede because we are really running late, and I hate being late.
Dinner was great, but I barely ate anything because I was so nervous about potentially finding someone to hook up with. B kept reminding me there was no pressure and then, in the same breath, was reminding me that I needed to get laid.
I’m standing here on a rooftop bar downtown with just enough liquid courage to possibly talk to someone outside of our group. It’s not that I’m shy; I just haven’t done the whole dating thing in a while. But even if I do find someone to flirt with, I probably wouldn’t be able to hear them over the loud music. I lean over and yell into B’s ear, “I need to pee.”
“Okay, I’ll come with you.”
We make our way inside and down the stairs to where the bathrooms are. She’s holding my hand as she trails behind me; otherwise, we’d likely get separated in the crowd. We get there, and of course, there’s a line for the women’s and no line for the men’s.
After several minutes of the line moving at a snail’s pace, B says, “Screw it!” She drags me out of the line and into the men’s bathroom.
“B, what the hell are you doing? We can’t just barge in here!”
“There’s basically no one in here.”
Umm, there very much are people in here, and they are staring at us over their shoulders from the urinal. I accidentally make eye contact with a brown-haired guy with shockingly blue eyes. He smirks at me, and I immediately turn my head away, praying that this will be over soon.
We cram both of us into a stall meant for one person and take turns peeing. Once we finish, I high-tail it out of there, hoping that we don’t draw any more attention. I saw some hand sanitizer on the wall outside, so I don’t bother wasting time washing my hands.
Part of me is glad she dragged me in there because I really had to pee. When I turn away from the hand sanitizer hanging on the wall, I’m confronted by the attractive man who smirked at me only minutes ago.
Shit. I was trying to forget about that. He clearly hasn’t.
He confidently walks up to me and says, “Hey, what’s your name?”
I glare over at B. She tries to suppress a laugh, but it comes out in bursts of squeaks before she runs back up the stairs, leaving me alone with the mystery man. She is likely going to find Iris and tell her what happened. At the top of the stairs, she turns back and mouths, “Are you okay?” and flashes me two thumbs up. I nod but try to tell her with my eyes that I’m not happy.
“I’m Louisa,” I say, turning back to the bathroom guy and reaching my hand out to shake his. Fuck. Do people shake hands when they’re interested in someone? Based on the grin on his face and how slowly he lifts his hand to mine, I’m guessing they don’t.
“Your friend abandoned ship pretty quick there.” He’s clearly referring to B’s disappearing act.
“That was my little sister.” I lean in when I’m talking to him because even though it’s quieter back here than out by the bars, I still can’t really hear him over the bass. “And I’m going to kill her when we get home. That was her idea to barge into the men’s room.”
“She’s smart. The men’s line is always way shorter than the women’s. They really need to do something about that.”
Agreed. Yet another one of B’s feminist rants that I quietly agree with.
“In hopes that she never does that to me again, I’m not going to tell her you said that.”
He laughs and takes a step closer to me. I can smell his cologne. It smells like Axe, which reminds me of middle school, but it’s not bad. God, I forgot how horny I was.
One moment I’m looking into those blue eyes, and before I can even process what I’m saying, words start coming out of my mouth. “Want to come back to my place?”
Oh my god, why the hell did I just ask him that? We literally just met.
“Uh, yeah. I’d like that. Do you live close?”
“Just a few blocks that way,” I say, pointing to what is likely the wrong direction because we’re inside, and I’m clearly tipsy.
“Great! Let’s go tell your friends where you’re headed and then get out of here.” Well, that just made me feel better about going home with a complete stranger. But also, I think I could take him if I needed to.
“Good idea. Are you here with anyone?” Figured I should ask in case he’s here with a girl.
“Just came here with some coworkers. I’ll shoot them a text to let them know I’m heading out.”
After finding my group and letting them know I’m walking home, we make our way toward my apartment. The fact that no one seemed shocked when I walked up with a stranger tells me that B had already filled them in and likely made some assumptions about how my night was going to go.
We make small talk, and I find out that he works at a nature center doing environmental education, which makes sense. His outfit and shaggy hair were definitely giving granola vibes.
His name is Darrah, by the way. I awkwardly learned that in front of everyone else when I went to introduce him and realized I never asked.
I wake up to the sound of Iris and B giggling and stumbling. There’s a crash, and I’m pretty sure they just broke a lamp.
“Shit! Lou is going to kill me. I’ll find some glue and put it back together before she notices.”
Before she makes a huge mess, I go out there to stop her. “B, just go to bed. I’ll clean it up in the morning. ”
“I’m sorry, Lou.” One side of her lip curls up, and she shrugs her shoulders. “Wait. Is he in there?” She points to my room, and I assume she means Darrah.
“No, he left a couple hours ago.”
Eyebrows scrunched together, she looks at her phone to check the time. “It’s only 2am. You left the bar around 11:30.”
“Exactly. Unfortunately, Mr. Darrah was a two-pump chump.” Though I feel bad labeling him like that, it really was not great, and I’ve been dying to tell B about it.
Iris slaps her hand over her mouth, “Spill all the details!”
Before sitting down on the couch to share the dirty details, I grab the girls some water. They are going to be violently hung over tomorrow based on how much they’re both slurring their words.
As soon as I’m seated, B starts chanting, “Tea. Tea. Tea. Tea.”
I unlock the door, and he follows me inside. Pepin immediately greets us upon entering. Well, he greets me. Darrah did not receive the same warm welcome I did. Pepin’s tail stops wagging, and he lowers his head, growling at Darrah.
“Pepin, stop that! Sorry, he’s usually super friendly.” Grabbing him by the collar, I gently guide him to B’s room and shut the door. I feel bad, but I’m not about to risk him growling at my guest all night.
“It’s alright. Maybe he doesn’t like men.”
That’s unlikely because he loves Liam and my dad. He must just be grumpy because I’ve been gone for several hours. Since getting Pepin, we haven’t been apart for more than a few hours, since I mostly work from home.
I turn from the door and am immediately greeted with warm lips on mine. One of his hands works its way to the back of my head, entangled in my hair, and the other on my exposed midriff. I may be rusty at flirting with strangers, but this I know how to do. I pivot us and walk backwards toward my room, reaching my hand behind me to find the doorknob.
His lips move wildly over mine, and I part mine slightly, inviting him in. When he doesn't respond, I continue mimicking his patterns. I guess he isn't a tongue guy, so closed-mouth kissing it is. I giggle to myself, thinking about how his kissing matches his cologne—very middle school. But I'm not in the mood to be anyone's teacher right now.
Once we make it to the back of the room, I part from him for a second to drop down onto the bed and shimmy my way up to the pillow. He follows, laying on top of me between my spread legs. I can feel how hard he is through his jeans rubbing against my center. God, I didn't realize how much I'd been craving another person's heat between my thighs.
A small gasp comes out of my mouth as his cold hand glides from my waist to under my tube top. After giving my breast a small squeeze, he pulls his hand out, grabs the top seam of my shirt, and pulls it down to expose both of them now.
He works his way down my neck with frantic kisses all the way to my nipple. A more audible gasp comes out this time, and I can feel him smile over my stiff peak, clearly pleased with the fact that he drew it out of me.
If I'm being honest, I just haven't been touched by anyone in a while. Jay and I stopped having sex a few months prior to breaking up. What I thought was a dry spell was actually our slow, dragged-out ending .
I am a big foreplay girl, but I've been nervous about this for days and just want to rip the bandaid off, so I pull his face back up so our lips connect again. Then, reaching down, I pull up the hem of his shirt and help him pull it off over his head. Before we reconnect, he reaches down and starts to undo his belt, then the top button of his jeans, then his zipper.
He reaches behind him and pulls out his wallet from his back pocket. He shuffles through some cards and bills before pulling out a condom. God knows how long that’s been in there for. I'm currently very glad I've been on birth control since I was 15.
This guy is starting to seem more like a virgin with every second that passes. Against my better judgment, I reach out and help him pull down his pants along with his boxers. I think I saw little Darth Vaders on them.
His size is average, which is what I'm used to. I have yet to experience a "breath taker," as B so lovingly calls well above-average dicks. Luckily, I'm wet enough without much foreplay, so he lifts up my skirt and slides right in.
Leaning back down on top of me, he braces his forearms on either side of my shoulders and presses his cheek to mine so his hot breath is right in my ear.
Now, people will think I'm exaggerating this part, but I swear I'm not. He makes a max of ten good pumps before he grunts into my ear, and I can feel his upper body shaking on top of me. The worst part is that he fakes a few more pumps, probably hoping I didn't catch the fact that he just came. But I can feel him already getting soft inside me.
Iris and B are in a fit of laughter, and once B catches her breath, she finally gets out the only words she has, "You're joking!"
"I really wish I was," I say as I close my scrunched-up eyes and shake my head from side to side. I can't decide if I'm more embarrassed for him or for myself.
Iris finally catches her breath and wipes the tears from her eyes. "So, then what? He just left?"
"Yep, pretty much. He threw the condom in the trash, pulled up his pants, and left. And no, I did not ask for his number, and he didn't ask for mine." I run my hand down my face as if trying to wipe the memory from my mind. "After he left, I was still so horny, so I whipped out my vibrator and took care of myself."
B exhales after taking several gulps of water and fist pumps in the air, "Good for you, girl!" It’s followed up with a big yawn, which spreads to Iris, then to me.
"Okay, I'm about to pass out, so I'm going to brush my teeth and go to bed." She scoots over on the couch towards me and wraps her arms around my neck. "Sorry your first time back in the game was such a blowout. Or whatever sports people say."
I chuckle and hug her back. "Honestly, I'm glad it wasn't that great because I'm not ready to find my husband yet. I just want to play the field for a while, then hopefully find Mr. Right. I want to enjoy being single for a while."
B lets go of my neck and puts her hands on my cheeks, squishing my face. Her eyes are blurry, so I'm not sure if she'll remember this in the morning, but I can tell she means what she says next. "I'm so proud of you, Lou. You've had boyfriends for so long, and there's nothing wrong with that. But I really want you to enjoy being single with me, at least for a while. Because we may never get this again." She gives me a soft smile, and I rest my hand on top of her hands, which still rest on my cheeks.
The smile suddenly disappears, her lips form a thin line, and her eyes get big. Oh shit, she's about to barf. I quickly grab her empty water cup off the coffee table and put it under her chin. She gags, but nothing comes up yet, so I drag her to the bathroom as quickly as I can and put her head over the toilet. She gets there just in time to yack up the entire contents of her stomach.
After I finally get B settled into bed, I go out to the living room and find Iris passed out on the couch. She looks relatively comfortable, so I cover her with a blanket, put a pillow under her head, and leave her.
I can't help but mother them, so I put a fresh glass of water by each of them, along with a couple pills for when they wake up with headaches tomorrow morning. I've always been the mom of the friend group, especially in college.
Don't get me wrong, I definitely had fun too. But Jay was always so particular about how much I was allowed to drink because he said he didn't want to be embarrassed by me. So, by the end of a night out, I was usually sober enough to take care of everyone.
I walk back to my room and crawl under the sheets. Pepin jumps on the bed and curls up next to me. I always keep it colder in my room so I can snuggle Pep and sleep with a weighted blanket without burning up.
The pressure from the weighted blanket and Pepin pressed up against my side is comforting. After sharing a bed with Jay for the last two years, those first few nights after he left were terribly lonely. My legs were restless, and I felt so cold. I went out and bought this weighted blanket the next day. It helps, but Pepin helps the most. He’s so attentive and knows exactly when I need a little extra love.
I roll onto my side to face him and stretch my arm out to scratch behind his ear. He lets out a little huff and nuzzles his head into my chest. "Guess you were trying to warn me about that guy, weren't you, buddy?" He lets out another little grunt in confirmation. "Alright, next time, I'll listen. But if you do that to every guy who walks through this door, I'll start to get suspicious."
I smile at my own joke and kiss his big, soft head. "Goodnight, Pepin. I love you." He wiggles a little closer into my body to say he loves me too. I truly will never understand how anyone could give this sweet boy up.