Chapter 11
Silas
My avatar keeps dying, but the only way to play better is if I have more use of my arms, but I'm not waking Lucy for anything. I can't imagine how tired or worn out she was to fall asleep on my arm so easily.
I came over to talk about last night, to see how she was feeling. The sudden way she shut down last night had us worried, and Mateo panicked when she didn't answer his calls, which is unlike him. When he said she struggles with anxiety, my initial thought was, doesn't everyone? But then he went into detail about the things she'd try to hide, her coping mechanisms, how she'd silently freak out and not speak up, so I understood the panic about how she was handling what we did together, when she wouldn't respond to his calls.
I've been watching her videos—every fucking one and there are tons of them—over the last week, ever since Matty finally shared her profile name with us. She doesn't talk about anxiety much in them; when she does, it's in a more nebulous way, like it's just something that exists and people deal with, no big deal. Obviously hiding her own experiences.
Lucy is an intense woman, though, so I wasn't exactly surprised she struggles. She's strung tight. No wonder Matty needed us. He's almost as bad as she is. Not anxious, but intense, neurotic. I can picture him trying to force the problem into submission, and I can already tell Lucy needs more patience than that.
I'll let Matty handle the big picture stuff, Noah and I can handle the day to day. Daddy Warbucks likes to take care of everyone, make sure there's food on the table, so to speak. Not that we don't all make great money, but he's into providing lifetime financial stability. He could probably retire next year and still be able to afford the taxes on this place for the rest of his life. But sometimes he's got the tact of a kindergartner.
Before I leave, I need to scope out the apartment. I think it's big enough for me and Noah to move in, but Matty's gonna have to give up his home office. I mean, it's not like he needs it. He's got a big corner office downtown. Our current apartment is decent, but it's small. This place is nicer. And Lucy loves it. That's what matters.
Now I know how Matty feels. I'm stuck in an awkward position, my arm is going numb, I'm not getting any work done, sitting here, thinking about rearranging my entire life, moving into this apartment, imagining how to make all the pieces of our lives fit together, and I barely know Lucy.
She hums softly. With her mouth slightly open, a little bit of drool wets my sleeve, her pert nose squished against my shoulder. It's cute. I'd take a picture if I could reach my phone.
I didn't come over here to do anything with her and I thought the video games would help put her at ease. But it worked better than I expected, and now all I can think about is a relaxed, pliable Lucy.
I wonder if she'd let me lick her pussy again. I enjoy sharing, but I like alone time too, and right now, it's just us.
She hums again and adjusts, but her head lolls off my shoulder, waking her abruptly. She wipes her face with the back of her hand, red coloring her cheeks beneath her sandy freckles. I fucking love the freckles.
In all the pictures she posts, you never see them. Come to think of it, real life Lucy looks a lot different from her profile. Way less makeup. Her clothes are more bum-chic, less social-media-model in various shades of tan, brown and beige. Granted, she's chillin' at home, but even at Atrium, I was surprised to see her like that, all dressed down. I barely recognized her at first. Maybe that was the point, though.
I'm making her self-conscious; I can tell by the way she squirms under my gaze, but I can't help it.
I really fucking like this girl.
Clearing her throat, she looks away. "Sorry for falling asleep on you."
"No problem." I shut down the game and get up to break down the console. I consider leaving it here. Maybe she wouldn't notice if I slowly started moving some of my shit in. That's wild right? Too much? Too soon?
She's already seen me put it away, though. Next time I come, I'll bring it back and leave it here. And maybe bring a few other things. Collapsing back on the couch beside her, I turn to face her straight on.
"So. We should talk about it."
Her nose scrunches, and she shrugs. "Talk about what?"
I debate teasing her, or beating around the bush to give her more time to live in her bubble. But we were really worried about her last night. Sure, she seems fine now. But she wasn't, then.
"Last night."
She gives me a tight smile but pulls away, hands fidgeting in her lap, fingers curling into fists, then back out again. I grab one of her hands and hold it gently, but firmly.
"Lu…" I think I've earned a right to a nickname considering how hard I made her come last night.
"I'm okay, I swear."
"Why didn't you answer Mateo when he called?"
"You're the one who said he has no chill."
"You know what I mean. He's your boyfriend, yeah? You've been together a while. You've been going through some shit… he's really worried about you. Why didn't you answer?"
I can tell she wants to run away from the conversation, but she doesn't. She pulls her hand away from mine, wrapping her arms around herself, and replies, "I don't know. Honestly, I don't. I was fine last night, too."
"Lucy—"
"I'm not lying. It was… amazing? Life-altering? It wasn't what I was expecting when I walked into that club, that's for sure. And I have so many fucking questions. Like, how long have y'all been doing this? What else are you into? What else am I into? What the hell is a sex club? How did you find it?" She shakes her head and bites her lip. "I have a lot of questions, so I should have answered the phone when Mateo called. But I just couldn't… face it."
"Face him?"
"No. It . All the answers. All the questions. And I'm… I don't know. I'm having a hard time. Personally, I mean. I feel like I don't know which way is up. With my work and with this… navigating you guys," she waves at me. "I don't know what to make of it."
I nod, then turn and lean back into the couch, clasping my hands behind my head, looking up toward the ceiling. Talking to her is like releasing a pressure valve. The more she says, the more questions she asks, the shriller her voice gets. She's still tense beside me, sitting stiff as a board.
"Let's see… How did we find the club? Some friends from college own it. We were among their beta testers. They wanted a place where people could explore their sexuality in a safe space. No pressure, no expectations."
"And it's legal?"
"Of course," I smirk. "Maybe it's frowned upon socially and they have a lot of hoops they need to jump through, but yes, it's perfectly legal."
She chews on that while I recall her other questions. "How long have we been doing this?" I look over and she nods, wanting the answer. "Since college. Maybe earlier, actually. There was a girl in high school we all had a crush on, that's probably when it started. Matty kissed her first," I laugh. "When I got pissed at him, he just shrugged and said, if she lets you, I don't mind if you kiss her, too."
"It was that simple?"
"It was that simple. I mean, we didn't start exploring it deeper until we got older. The club was the perfect place for it, knowing everyone who attended was also open to the unconventional."
"Have you ever dated someone solo?"
"Yeah, I have. Not seriously though. None of us have, except—" I point at her and she blushes. "And you see how well that turned out."
"I don't know… we were doing well. At first anyway. I don't know what changed."
"Nothing changed. You know where he is right now?"
"At work?"
I nod. "And it's where he'll be tomorrow and the day after and the day after that. He doesn't take days off. He's incapable of slowing down. It's annoying sometimes, but I've learned to deal with it. We can wrangle him if we make big plans, but it's rare."
"So it's not just me."
"Not at all. I know he loves you. A fuck ton. He's just… a workaholic. A little neurotic. But he does love you, probably more than he loves me and Noah, considering he tried to keep you to himself," I laugh, but Lucy remains contemplative.
"In any case," I continue, "the survival of your relationship wasn't on your shoulders alone. Society says we need to be everything to our partner, but it's kind of an impossible task. Can you be everything for Mateo?"
She thinks about it, biting her lip, before shaking her head. "I can barely be everything for myself."
"Exactly." There's a lot I want to say. I want to know if she wants to explore this with me, with us. But she's overwhelmed, which defeats the purpose of me coming over here.
"Are you okay, for real, Lucy? After last night?"
She nods slowly. "I am. I think you being here, without expectations, that helped." I let out a breath.
We talk some more. Eventually I get up and explore the apartment, and we keep talking while she follows behind, amused I've made myself at home. It's getting late. I want to stay longer. And even though she's more relaxed, I won't make the same mistake Matty did by trying to force something to work that needed time to develop.
Reluctantly, I grab my backpack and Lucy follows me to the door.
It's easy to reconcile the girl in person with the one in her videos. She has a vibrancy, charisma you can't fake. No wonder she has so many followers.
Reaching a hand out, the second hers slips into mine, I tug her close, pulling her into my arms, wrapping her up in a hug. I meant to leave it there, but Lucy surprises me when she pulls back and, after furrowing her brow, comes to a decision and presses her lips into mine.
Like last night, I'm drunk on her. She tastes so sweet, nervous but impatient. I can feel her needy whimpers on my tongue, and it takes a lot of fucking effort to pull away, knowing what she sounds like when she comes, wanting to take this so much further. We did this a little backwards, but I want to do right by Lucy. She deserves it. So do Matty and Noah.
"Can you come over tomorrow? Maybe we can cook you dinner?"
Her face lights up. "That would be amazing."
"I'll text you tonight." I lean in and kiss her cheek, wanting badly to take it ten steps further, but I pull away and grab my skateboard. "Bye Lu."
"Bye Silas," she says softly.
The door shuts with a soft click, and I stand in the hallway just thinking about how legendary we could be together.
By the time I make it downstairs and into the lobby, I'm grinning like an idiot at all her neighbors. Barely three steps out the door, still totally blissed out, I don't immediately notice the woman with a toothy smile until she's leaning into my personal space, catching me off guard.
"Oh my god! Hey!"
"Uh, hey?" I rear back.
"Don't I know you?" She tilts her head, waiting, expecting me to give her my name or some indication we know each other.
When I don't, she continues, "You're friends with Lucy, right? Sorry, I thought I saw her with you earlier. I'm a really good friend of hers."
She continues to wait for me to fill in the blanks, but I don't. "It's nice to meet you…" When she doesn't give me her name, I shrug and move around, giving her a wide berth. She may very well be a friend of Lucy's, but knowing Lu's internet famous in Port City, this woman could also be an obsessed fan.
Aside from the wild look in her eye, she looks pretty normal. Dressed like a young bohemian, with feathers in her brown hair and a fringe leather jacket, she's pretty, but pinging my unhinged radar.
I drop my skateboard and step on. Glancing back briefly, I swear she's taking my picture, but she could just be texting.
I guess that's what these social media types do. Though I've been around Lucy twice now and I haven't seen her phone even in her vicinity. I didn't think influencers who weren't completely attached to their phones existed.
It takes me half an hour to get home, and I find Noah sitting on the couch with his laptop, but he looks like he's been watching the door, waiting for me, not working like he's supposed to be.
I put my shit away, take my time getting comfortable, waiting to see how long it takes him to freak out and just ask. I set down my skateboard and backpack, head to my room to put on a pair of sweats. I grab my tablet so I can get some work done and join him on the couch, making a point to stretch out, nudging his leg with my foot.
About eight minutes is how long it takes.
"For fuck sake. Is she okay? How is she? Did you see her?"
I grin, throwing a Cheeto in my mouth. "She's good."
"That's it? Good?"
"Yeah. She's good."
Noah glares at me, then goes back to his laptop. He huffs about five minutes later, slamming the screen closed. "Dude—"
I laugh and cut him off. "Okay, okay, sorry. Seriously, she's doing okay. I don't think she was upset about what we did, though we didn't really talk about it."
"Why the hell not? That was the whole point of one of us going over there. I knew I should have gone—"
"Nah, bro, relax. I mean, we didn't talk about it because she didn't seem like she was freaking out about it. I think she just has a lot of questions. She also said she has some personal shit going on… I dunno. Gotta ask Matty about that. But I think she was just overwhelmed last night. We…"
I pause, looking away. I think about her smile, how invested she got in my work, how excited. How bad she was at playing the games. How she relaxed enough to fall asleep on my arm. About our kiss.
About the way she came last night, totally uninhibited. Matty holding her down, Noah and I working together, how perfect it all could be.
"We what?"
"Huh? Oh. We, uhh… we had a nice time." I shake my head because I completely forgot what I was going to say. "Don't worry, I swear, I think she's good. And still wants to try this. I can tell she has a lot of questions though, so be prepared. She's coming over for dinner tomorrow night."
Noah perks up. "Really? What does she like to eat?"
I eat another Cheeto. "Probably not these."
Noah narrows his eyes on my orange fingers, shudders, then opens his laptop again. Before he falls too deeply into work, I remember the other thing I wanted to say. "She has a rabid fan, I think."
"What do you mean?"
I tell him about the woman outside her apartment building. Noah immediately worries, coming up with excuses as to why she should move in here. If I hadn't spent the last few hours with her, I'd make fun of him for how over the top he's being, considering we barely know Lucy. And yet, I feel the same way, so I let him rant.
Noah's what I call an emotional fluffer. Mateo fixes shit with money. Noah fixes shit with sheer will, always at the ready to praise when people need it, to do what needs to be done to keep them healthy and happy. It'll be good for Lucy, I think. She's shy, embarrasses easily, and, even though I don't know her well, can tell she's kind of insecure.
Even though he's ranting about what to cook her for dinner, how to help her reconcile her potential interest in three different men, hoping she's okay fucking three deviants who like to frequent a sex club, and debating stalking her to make sure she doesn't have any other stalkers, I admire how he lights up for her.
I love that about Noah. I always have. I don't know why, but I've always been overly protective of him, worried the wrong person would crush his spirit, cause he gives away emotional support so easily.
"You're not listening to a word I'm saying."
"Not really," I laugh, eating another Cheeto. Instead of getting mad, he smirks, rolls his eyes and goes back to work.