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Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
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Chapter Two: Trying
I glanced at the clock in my bedroom and realized I didn't have long before Vanessa arrived. After pinning up my hair to keep it from getting wet, I took a quick shower. She had promised to meet me at my place to help me get ready. She had also promised to bring me a dress to wear, which made me nervous. She was gorgeous, and we had a similar build, but her tastes were far more provocative than mine were. At work, she was polished and sophisticated, but she liked to let loose when she went out.
The bathroom was luxurious with a beautiful soaking tub and frameless glass shower. The floors and shower were a pale limestone, and the double vanity was topped with richly veined brown marble. In the past it had been one of my favorite rooms in the apartment, although it had been a long time since I'd taken the time to soak in the tub and relax.
I had just stepped out of the shower and into a robe when I heard a knock on the door. I tightened the belt and walked over; peering out the peephole to make sure it was Vanessa before I opened it. When I saw that it was her, I hurried to open it. She was dressed casually and carrying a large tote and garment bags.
I reached for the bag I assumed my dress was in, but she smacked my hands away.
"You can't look till you see it on." Something about her words instantly made me anxious.
"Why does that worry me?" I asked her, taking the other bag and carrying it into my room.
She hung the garment bag on a hook in my closet and took the other bag into the bathroom. "I have no idea. You should have more faith in me."
Although I knew I could trust her, the entire situation had me slightly on edge. I eyed her skeptically and she pointed to the low stool in front of the vanity. "Sit. I'm going to curl your hair."
Ten minutes later, my hair was in hot rollers and she had spun me around to do my makeup.
I nodded at the appropriate times when she talked, but I found myself getting lost inside my head. I wondered what Riley was doing tonight, and if he was missing me as much as I was missing him. I was looking forward to going out with Vanessa, but I would have traded it in a heartbeat for a night on the couch, watching idiotic TV with Riley.
We traded spots while she did her own makeup and hair and I spent the time staring at myself in the mirror, not sure of whom I was at all anymore. I hadn't done my makeup for a night out since Riley had left. I hardly recognized myself.
I looked good; my cheeks were flushed, and my eyes were darkly made up, and my lips were a glossy nude color. When she was done, she styled my hair into a low side ponytail. She swept my bangs to the side and left the ends of my long, brown hair curly. I slid into the dress she handed me from the garment bag and turned to look at myself in the mirror.
I stared at myself in shock. The dress she had brought over was gorgeous, and very, very small. Also, a huge change of pace from the comforting neutrals I'd been wearing in recent days. It was a sleeveless, V-neck dress, with a draped detail on the side. I turned and looked at it from the side, liking the asymmetrical hemline. The one thing I wasn't sure about was the color.
"It's so...red, Ness. Are you sure?" While I loved red—it was a sexy, confident color—I was feeling anything but. "Couldn't I at least break into the waters a little slower?" I thought.
"I'm sure," she said firmly. "You look ravishing and, if I have any say in it, you're not going to be coming home alone tonight."
"Thank goodness you don'thave any say in it," I said dryly.
"Come on, Bella. There are oodles of men just waiting for us."
"Right." I rolled my eyes.
I slipped into a pair of my favorite black leather, peep toe Louboutin heels. I hadn't worn them in months, and liked the way the red soles matched my dress. I stared at myself in the mirror again, hardly recognizing my own reflection. It had been so long since I had gone out; I wasn't used to seeing myself in anything but work or exercise clothes. Maybe the occasional casual outfit on weekends, but even then, it was jeans and a shirt, hardly anything to get excited about.
I put on a jacket and grabbed my purse, and followed her out the door; my nerves building in the pit of my stomach.
She chattered excitedly to me on the cab ride to the club. I half-listened, absorbed in my own thoughts. I didn't even notice that we had stopped at Ruby Skye until she hopped out and held out a hand to me. I sat frozen in the back of the cab, unable to even slide to the side to step out. Vanessa took my hand, squeezed it and I took a deep breath and got out. "I can do this," I reminded myself.
Although there was a bit of a line in front of the club, Vanessa apparently knew the bouncers and they waved us right in. She continued to pull me behind her as I looked around in awe. The club was loud and full of people, seeming to have a good time but I felt as if I was in a bit of a fog. This was so different from how I'd spent my nights the past few months. I felt so disconnected from the world and the club scene. You could feel the energy in the place radiating throughout; it all felt so alive. It was easier to focus on the building rather than the people around me.
Ruby Skye was in a renovated Victorian playhouse. The contrast between the ornate architecture and the modern furnishings was interesting. Vanessa had been talking about it for ages, but it was the first time I had been there. There were two levels and four rooms, with several V.I.P areas. It had the vibe of an upscale lounge without being overly pretentious. We made our way through the main dance floor to one of the smaller lounges upstairs. The DJ was fantastic and though the music was loud, it wasn't impossible to talk. I was definitely looking forward to dancing later, considering how long it had been since I had gone out.
Once I was a table with a drink, I relaxed. Vanessa and I stuck to our usual drinks: a cranberry Cosmo for her and a Drambuie on the rocks for me.
"Any prospects?" she asked, looking around with a predatory gleam in her eye.
"I just sat down," I protested. "I haven't even had time to notice anyone."
"Well they've certainly noticed you." She tilted her head toward the bar.
I glanced casually over and looked back at Vanessa. There were two guys sitting at the bar, facing toward us, and staring. They were roughly our age, well-dressed and appeared to be into their looks just as much as half the girls in the place. As Vanessa turned around to give them another flirty glance, they stood up and began to walk over. I tried not to stare, but they were cute. I wondered which one Vanessa would go for. Probably the blond. But the guy with the jet black hair and blue eyes was certainly good looking, too. He smiled at me and when he drew closer, I tensed when I saw he was wearing a polo.
"Not the one in the polo," I thought, "please, not him." I had always teased Riley that ninety percent of his casual wardrobe was polo shirts. To my relief, the blond who sat down beside me was the one wearing a button down shirt. His eyes were a light green and he gave me a friendly smile.
"Hey, I'm Tyler." He stuck out his hand and I shook it.
"Bella."
"Can I get you another drink?" he asked.
I shook my head. "No, still working on this one, but I'll let you know when I need another."
"Deal." We stared at each other awkwardly for a moment and I wondered if he was waiting for me to make the first move. I didn't know how to flirt anymore. I had been with Riley since I was sixteen; apart from a few innocent kisses with other guys before we started dating, I hadn't been with anyone but him. I had absolutely no idea how even to strike up a conversation. "Just think of it like a work event, or a cocktail party, Bella, it's not that hard,"I reminded myself.
I opened my mouth to speak but he beat me to it.
"So, what do you do for a living, Bella?"
"I'm a lawyer."
"Oh, wow. Well, you're the prettiest lawyer I've ever seen."
"Thanks." My voice was tinged with confusion. I couldn't tell if he was trying to give me a genuine compliment or if he was being condescending. My social skills were rusty.
He must have read my confusion because he hastily added, "I'm sorry. That came out wrong. I just wanted to say that you're very beautiful, and I'm impressed that you're a lawyer. It's rare to find a woman who is beautiful and smart."
"I think you'd be surprised," I said dryly, irritated by his sexist comment. "My friend, Vanessa, is a lawyer, as well, and she graduated from Harvard at the top of her class. What do you do for a living?" I asked him.
"I'm a sports writer."
I nodded. In the past, I tried to follow sports enough to make intelligent conversation with Riley's interests. But I hadn't paid much attention since he'd left.
"I'll be honest, I'm not really current on my teams," I admitted. "I used to be, but it's been a while."
"That's all right. I am sure we have plenty of other things in common." I fought the urge to roll my eyes. We had known each other for all of five minutes and he was already making presumptions. I knew my reaction was bitchy, but I just couldn't help it, I really wasn't feeling into this. I saw Vanessa out of the corner of my eye giving me a surreptitious thumb up. I shook my head minutely at her and tried to make a conversation with Tyler, but it was useless. He was nice, but we couldn't find a single topic to discuss. Politics, current events, hobbies, absolutely none of them meshed. Apparently, having an Ivy League education doesn't come in handy for everything.
After a while, we were both feeling frustrated and I saw him glance around the bar probably trying to find an out. I looked over at Vanessa again and thankfully, she saw my distress because she jumped up immediately and grabbed my hand.
"Bella and I need to make a trip to the ladies' room. Bye, boys!"
Before I knew what was happening I found myself halfway across the club. She tugged me into the hallway by the restrooms and gave me a concerned look.
"How'd it go? You looked like you were about to freak out."
"Okay, I guess. We had nothing in common at all; he was kind of a sexist ass. I tried; it just got really awkward."
She shrugged. "There will be plenty more guys tonight, maybe one of them will do it for you."
That was always her philosophy. But as the night went on and I had a few drinks, we danced more and more, I did begin to loosen up a little. By the third round when I got the occasional winks or flirty smile from a guy, I had begun to feel a little bit better about myself. I was on my way to buzzed when two large hands wrapped around my hips and I was pulled back into a very aroused male body. I jumped in surprise and whirled around to find the worst cliché of a slime ball club guy I'd ever seen. He was over tanned, spent way too much time lifting weights, and had on a low V-neck shirt that showed off a disturbing amount of chest hair. Not to mention the fact he had to be at least fifteen years older than me, which was way too old for this club's scene.
"Hey, where are you going, baby?" he asked. "I wanted to dance."
"Well, I don't want to dance with you," I said automatically.
"Aww, come on, baby. I saw the way your hips were moving, you want this."
I stared at him incredulously. "Does that really work on women?" I asked.
"I dunno; let me know in the morning when you wake up under me." He leered at me and made a grab for my body. Just as I turned quickly to avoid him, a hand shot out and grabbed his wrist.
"Leave her alone, she's not interested." The man's voice was calm and controlled but I could see the muscles in his forearm flex.
"Aww, come on, don't be a spoilsport," the sleazy jerk huffed. "She was totally into me."
"Walk away now, and we won't have a problem. I have no qualms about getting a bouncer to throw you out of here." I could tell by his tone that he was serious.
"Fine, man, whatever. I don't need this shit," he scoffed and walked away, already eyeing his next prospect.
"Are you all right?"
I turned to look at the man standing in front of me and he smiled. He had blond hair, baby blue eyes, and sparkling white teeth. He was dressed in a Navy blue shirt, blazer, and nice jeans. "You're cute," I thought with some surprise.
He frowned and hesitantly held his hand out toward me without actually touching me. "Miss, are you all right?"
I snapped out of my daze and laughed lightly. "I'm sorry; I was just a little stunned. I'm fine, thank you. I appreciate the help getting rid of the Jersey Shore wannabe."
"Any time," he said gallantly. "Although, hopefully you won't run into him again."
I laughed. "It's all right; I have pepper spray in my purse."
He smiled at me. "If I do something to offend you, please at least give me a warning before you use it on me."
"All right, but you'd better be on your best behavior," I joked. All of a sudden, it clicked. "This is flirting. The teasing, light-hearted banter we have going on. I can do this."
"Scout's honor."
"I bet you were a scout, too."
He gave me a sheepish smile. "Yep, the entire way through Eagle Scouts."
"Would you like to get a table and have a drink with me?" I asked impulsively.
He grinned at me. "I'd love to."
He escorted me to an empty table with a light touch on my elbow and pulled out a chair for me. I sat down and gave him a smile. He offered to buy me a drink and I asked him to get me a glass of white wine. I was already buzzed from the previous drinks and I didn't want to end up completely drunk. I watched him while he ordered and waited as the bartender made our drinks. He was average height, average weight, average everything really, except maybe his eyes and smile. But regardless of that, I liked him. He seemed like a nice guy. As he walked back to the table, he gave me another friendly smile.
"Your drink." He placed it in front of me and as he took a seat next to me, his knee brushed my thigh.
"I'm Mike, by the way. Mike Newton."
"Nice to meet you, Mike, I'm Bella."
"Are you here with friends?" he asked.
"Just one friend, Vanessa." I pointed at the dance floor where she was mauling a guy. "We work together."
"Where do you work?" he asked. I told him and he asked several intelligent questions about my job. I found myself relaxing and enjoying the conversation with him quite a bit. He was in public relations, and when he said that they "typically focused on clients who were sports stars," I nearly groaned aloud. He must have seen the look on my face because he hastened to explain.
"I know, I know, but I promise, sports aren't the biggest thing in my life. I try to keep that at work. I honestly don't watch games in my free time much. I sometimes go to the games when I get free tickets, just for the networking I can do there. But trust me; I have a lot of other interests."
He did, too. Apparently, he was into rock climbing and had been taking an Italian cooking class lately. He was well-read and interested in similar works of literature I liked. We had been talking for a while when Vanessa came up to me, a dazed looking guy in tow.
She leaned down to speak in my ear. "Hey, we're headed out. Are you okay to take a cab home by yourself? If not, we can all leave together and have the cab drop you off at your place first."
"Yeah, I'm fine. I think I'm going to stick around and talk to Mike for a while actually."
She grinned at me. "Awesome. I can't wait to hear all about it tomorrow. Have fun. Be safe." She leaned in to speak a little more quietly. "Do you need a condom? I have plenty in my bag."
I laughed and shook my head at her. "I'm not sleeping with him, Ness," I said quietly. "We're just going to talk and maybe dance a little. Go have fun."
"Oh, I plan to have a lot of fun. His name is Armando. My goal is to make his neighbors sick of hearing it." She grinned salaciously and waved as she dragged him behind her.
I shook my head and turned back to Mike. "Sorry, she's a little over the top."
He shrugged. "She seems fun."
He took my hand and I had to fight back the overwhelming urge to yank my hand back. It just didn't seem right, but I pushed the thought away. What was wrong with me? Mike was a nice, interesting, cute guy who had been nothing but polite and thoughtful all night. He was exactly the type of guy I should be going after.
It felt so foreign though, to touch anyone but Riley. The whole idea of it was strange. But I had to face facts, Riley wasn't coming back from D.C. and I wasn't going to be moving there. We were over, and as much as it hurt, I couldn't turn into a hermit for the rest of my life. Just because I wasn't ready to actually date didn't mean I could enjoy a few drinks with Mike.
I tried to relax my hand in his. "I'm glad you decided to stay," he said.
"I'm glad I decided to stay, too," I admitted. "I'm having a nice time."
"I am, too. Would you like to dance?" he asked.
"Sure."
Once we were out on the dance floor, I realized how much I was enjoying myself. It felt good to move like that, and have a man notice me, to have him touch me, just a little. It was only his hand at my waist or my shoulder, but it felt good. I gave in to it, and let my body brush his. It was strange at first, but good, too. And when he pulled me a little tighter, I didn't protest.
"Can I kiss you?" he asked, his voice a little rough.
"Yes."
I felt my heart hammer in my chest as he leaned in. I wondered if it would ever stop feeling strange since it was someone other than Riley. But his lips were soft, and he tasted like a rum and coke. I was surprised to find my body responding to his, so I didn't stop when he pulled back and asked me—almost shyly—if I wanted to go back to his place.
I was sober enough to know I was making a rational decision, but buzzed enough to relax. And once we were in Mike's gorgeous high-rise condo and listening to music, it didn't take long before we were kissing on his couch. He was a good kisser, not too sloppy or wet. I couldn't help but compare him to Riley though. The texture of Mike's lips against my own was unfamiliar. I welcomed the difference but I longed for the lips that once brought me so much comfort.
I loved Riley, and no one could replace him. I didn't want to replace him, but I was lonely and it felt good to have Mike touch me. He ran a hand up my thigh and I didn't protest. I squirmed against him, and he pulled me closer, gently moving his hand to rest on my left breast. I felt my nipple tighten and I wondered if he could feel it through the two layers of my bra and dress.
"You are so hot," he muttered in my ear. His fingers teased up my thigh and I reached for his shirt with trembling hands, unbuttoning it as best I could with shaky fingers. He shrugged out of it and I ran my hand down his bicep. It flexed under my fingers and his hand touched the edge of my lace underwear beneath my skirt. I ignored the uneasy feeling in my stomach, trying to convince myself that I would get accustomed to the idea of being with someone else. I ran a hand down his chest and to his belt buckle, toying with it. I took a deep breath and reached my hand lower to the outside of his pants touching his erection, gently squeezing it.
"Fuck, that feels good," Mike groaned. I bit my lip, trying not to remember the way Riley would shudder when I ran a hand across his cock. Every time. Desperate to focus on the man in front of me, instead of the one thousands of miles away, I kissed him hard and shimmied so my dress was up around my waist. I grabbed his hand, coaxing it under my panties, to touch my wetness.
"Goddamn," he muttered. His fingers moved quickly then, delving into me, one and then another. I panted, wanting to rock against his hand, but feeling inexplicably guilty for enjoying it.
I kissed him again and pulled him closer, feeling his weight against me. He pushed me back onto the couch, his lips hungrily attacking me, his touches eager and needy.
Suddenly, it struck me how foreign his body felt against mine. I blinked back the tears that began to form in my eyes, trying to convince myself that I wanted this. That my discomfort was temporary and that I just needed to relax. But the smell was wrong, the touch was wrong, the taste was wrong, everything was wrong!With a stifled sob, I pulled back and Mike immediately stopped.
"Did I do something wrong?" he asked, looking concerned. He pulled back to sit on the couch beside me.
"No, it's me. I'm sorry, I—I can't do this. It's not you...it's just—I'm not..." I sniffled. "I can't. I'm sorry."
"Hey, it's okay." He grabbed a blanket from the back of the couch and wrapped it around me. "I won't do anything you don't want me to do."
"Thanks." I wiped at the tears and tugged the blanket snug, bringing my knees up under me.
"Do you want to talk about it?"
"No, not really." I sighed. "But I suppose I owe—"
"Hey, you don't owe me anything," he protested. "But I'll listen, if you want to tell me what happened."
Taking a moment to gather my thoughts, I thought and swallowed deep. "To make a very long story short, I was in a relationship with someone for twelve years. We broke up last fall and..." I trailed off as another wave of grief and guilt hit me. "I'm just not ready to be with someone else."
Mike nodded and reached for his shirt, buttoning it. "I'm sorry if I pushed you."
"No, you were great. You aregreat. You're a really nice guy. I thought I was ready to put this behind me but I guess I'm not."
"Would you rather just go out sometime? On a date? We could take it really slow."
I shook my head. "No, I don't think so, I'm sorry."
He shrugged. "It's a blow to the ego, but I understand. I'll survive it."
"I'm really sorry, Mike. I do like you and I am attracted to you; my head is just a mess right now."
"It's okay," he said. I could see he was upset at the way things had turned, but I could tell he was genuine in his acquiescence.
"I think I'm going to head out," I said, feeling awkward.
"Is there anything I can get you before you go?"
"A glass of water would be nice."
Mike stood up, adjusting his pants discreetly and disappeared into the kitchen. I hastily stood up and smoothed my dress and hair trying to right myself. Taking a few deep breaths, I looked in the mirror behind the couch to fix my smudged look; I was a little disheveled. When he returned with the water, I drank it in silence, contemplating the mess I had created.
He offered to call me a cab and hugged me goodbye before I left, placing a kiss on the top of my head. I felt foolish for my freak out, but Mike was sweet and understanding. I wanted to like him, I really did, but the thought of giving myself to anyone but Riley was impossible.
Author End Notes: Thanks for the reviews so far, you all have been great! Let us know what you think about chapter two and we'll see you next Thursday with chapter three!
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