Chapter 4
It had been two months since she had seen or heard from Jon. She stayed in contact with Colby. She had even apologized for involving him in the spat with her... What could she even call her relationship with Jon? They were so much more than friends with benefits and yet still so much less than a couple.
She didn't get to ponder the question further as someone was raining thunderous knocks on her door.
"Open the fuckin' door! I know you're home! I'll break this fuckin' thing down if you –,"
"What the fuck is wrong with you?" She whisper yelled at the dirty blond man now leaning on her door frame. "Someone could've heard you and called the cops."
He pushed past her and into her house.
"Sure, come right on in."
"Why'd you fuckin' do that?"
"Do what?"
"Oh, don't play dumb with me."
"Are you drunk?"
"And don't try to change the subject either."
"OK. What did I do?"
"Colby."
She smirked, "I didn't do Colby. You assumed that I did."
He rolled his eyes, "Well, why didn't you correct my assumption?"
"Because I'm a vindictive bitch, remember?"
"I almost kicked his ass."
She rolled her eyes.
"You really should work on minding that temper of yours. Mox peeks through when you don't."
"I don't like when people try to take what's mine."
"What's yours? You've lost your fucking mind."
"You know you belong to me." He wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her in close. "Maybe not here," he tapped her temple, "and definitely not here," he ran his fingertips down over her sternum, "but absolutely, here," His hand gripped her ass, "and here." He moved his hand to maneuver his fingers to brush against her heat.
She squirmed out of his grasp making him laugh.
"You need to go."
"I'm right where I fucking need to be."
"Go home, Jon. I'm sure your happy wife is looking for you."
"My happy wife is screwing someone else. And you know what they say," He slurred just a bit, "The best way to get over someone is to get under someone else. So," he pulled her in again, "I want you to ride me until your cold black heart is content."
"Let go of me."
He breathed harshly, but released her.
"Sleep it off. We'll talk in the morning."
"Your couch sucks." He spoke gruffly as he entered her kitchen.
She turned slightly, a bit startled by his voice. She watched him briefly as he tried to tame his sleep mused messy curls.
"Good morning to you too."
"I'm hung over. This isn't a good morning."
"No one told you to get plastered last night. How'd you get here anyway?"
"Taxi."
She brought him over a cup of black coffee and ibuprofen before heading back to the stove.
"Why didn't you go home?"
He shrugged, but she had her back to him.
They were both silent in their oddly domestic scene. He honestly missed her. Their fighting? Not so much, but this bit? He missed this fiercely.
She was quietly scrambling eggs as she scratched the back of her left calf with her right foot. She was still wearing the same oversized shirt from last night. He had to fight the urge to approach her and kiss the side of her neck like he had done so many times before.
His heart clinched a little bit.
'Traitor.' He thought bitterly of his heart.
He swiped the ibuprofen from the table top before drinking some of the scalding hot liquid in his... Favorite mug? He looked up questioningly. She had kept the damn thing after all this time?
"It's a mug, dude. Relax." She spoke as she sat a plate in front of him.
He shot her a look, "Yeah. Just a mug you've kept for 2 years."
They were quiet again as they ate their breakfast; well... He sat pushing his eggs around his plate while she ate.
"You wanna talk about it?"
He looked up at her slowly then back down at his plate.
She took in a deep breath, "Well, when you're ready."
She finished her breakfast. She intentionally walked by the table and stroked his head once before leaving him sitting there.
She was standing in her bathroom putting on eyeliner. He stayed quiet until he noticed she didn't have the brush near her eye.
"Why'd you keep the mug?"
She jumped out of her skin knocking the small glass pot shapped container that held her liner into the sink.
"Jesus Christ," she held her chest, "And they call Colby a ninja."
He approached her, "Why?"
"I didn't have the heart to throw it away." She spoke quietly avoiding looking at him.
"I'll tell you as long as you don't say I told you so."
She finally turned to look at him. She zipped her mouth shut.
A half smile broke out on his face, "That has literally never stopped you before."
She smirked at him, but he fell silent.
"You don't have to tell me." She spoke as she set about lining her other eye.
He watched her intently.
"I feel like an idiot, but relieved at the same time."
She turned slightly to really look at him; to study him and take him in.
"I can stop pretending."
"Pretending?"
"That I'm happy."
"I was hoping you'd say the marriage was a sham." She spoke trying to lighten mood, but he stayed silent for a beat.
"Nah, that part is very much so real. I signed my soul over to the devil."
"That's a terrible thing to call your wife."
"Some wife. Spreading her legs for whomever."
She stayed silent.
"I wanted to believe she'd change. That things really would be different because she really did love me. And I really did believe it for a long time too."
"What happened?"
"We got into an argument about my attitude towards her and... And she basically blurted out that she had been cheating on me off and on throughout our relationship. All because she thought I was cheating on her."
She shook her head and rolled her shoulders, "Can I hurt –,"
"It's not worth it."
"Well, what was the attitude about?"
He sighed, "Our last fight. You and Colby. Accidentally getting a FaceTime call and hearing her moaning another man's name."
Her eyes almost fell out of her head.
Oh. Shit.
"Jon..."
"Karma, I guess."
"For what?"
"For still having feelings for someone else. For wishing I was fucking someone else. For losing myself in someone that never gave a shit about me."
"I suddenly understand why neither of us do emotions."
He chuckled at that.
She finished up her face then turned and pressed her half dressed body into his side. He draped his arm around her hips, his hand resting on the outermost part of her butt. She flexed up on her toes to kiss him on the cheek.
"I'm sorry, J."
He loosened his grip, pulling her to stand directly in front of him. He ran his hands along her sides as she draped an arm over his shoulder.
"Me too." He spoke softly before he placed a chaste kiss on her lips.
Few more to go...