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I dip myself back under the water and listen to the muffled sound of her voice talking to my dad. Hurrying to finish getting washed up, I turn the water off and towel myself dry. Then, wrapping it around my waist, I step out and head into the bedroom.
Lana is sitting in the chaise lounge chair in the corner of the room just under the classic windows that take up the walls and look out into our cozy suburban neighborhood. Her laptop is in her lap, and I catch a glimpse of what she’s doing. I see the wholesalers that she and Shay order from, and a smirk climbs over my face.
“You thinking about going back to work?” Attempting small talk with Lana can go one of two ways. She can read too much into it and shut me down before we even start, or she can slip up and miss my attempt at getting inside her closed off head.
“I’ve started to really focus on the online sales, so you could say I have thought about it.”
I nod, disappearing into the closet. I dig through my pajama bottoms like I dig through my mind, thinking, What else can I say to her? Still angry from last night, I don’t even know if I want to say anything to her, or if I need to say something. It’s a fucking mess.
Pulling down some black sweats, I grab my briefs then slide them on, one leg after the other. Stepping out, I grab my phone from my nightstand. “That’s good. I bet you miss it.”
Keeping her eyes on the computer, she purses her lips, the tiny crease between her eyebrows deepening as she simply nods and hums a ‘mmhmm.’
Great, back to ice-cold.
“I’m gonna call my dad back.” With one last glance back over my shoulder, I pray when I look at her that she will at least be looking at me. When I see she isn’t, I drop my head and, like every night, I slip farther away from my queen.
I spent a good hour on the phone with my dad. He could tell some shit was up, and instead of pushing me and imploring for more, he kept me distracted with small talk and the recent Seahawks game. I heard movement upstairs halfway through the conversation, but since then it’s been silent. Lana is mostly likely already in bed, giving up our battle for the night.
Flipping on the TV, I scan through the channels, settling on some sports show, listening to two of the talk show hosts bantering and bickering over the recent plays. I don’t hear much as I search through my phone.
Not one for social media, my Facebook has gone neglected the past few months—shit, probably a year at this point. Opening it up, I see a shit-ton of notifications and message requests. Color me curious, I get bored and open up the messages. Checking the time first, seeing it’s only ten, I want to wait a little longer before I go into Prince’s room. I don’t want him waking up.
I see a few buddies from back home have sent me some random videos of either stupid people acting like fucking morons or some bimbo with her fake tits all over the screen. I’ll admit, that shit would’ve driven me wild and gained all my attention in a New York minute before, but my libido has taken a back seat, and the only time it’s ready to go, it’s for one woman. Too bad she doesn’t want it.
Sifting through and replying to some, I see one that has my hair standing up on the back of my heated neck. My palms go a little clammy. Hilary? My ex, Hilary? The one I fucked as I screwed other women? The girl whose heart I broke and smashed on the ground with a few short words and the shrug of my shoulders?
I debate ignoring it, but the preview has me teetering on the edge of what’s logical and what’s curiosity. My thumb moves on its own accord, opening the message, and my eyes begin to read each black word on the blinding white screen.
Hey, I know it’s been years, but I saw you on my People You May Know and I couldn’t help but send you a message.
How are you? How is Seattle? Do you like it as much as you thought you would?
Look, I miss you, Kingston. I know it’s been a long time, but I do miss you like crazy. I miss the way we were. The way you...you touched me. I think about you, all the time. And I can’t believe I’m even saying this—over Facebook of all things—but I want you to know that I miss who we were. I miss your lips on my body as they moved all over me. How you worked me, and how I returned the pleasure. We were hot, Kingston. I knew you always wanted me. It was carnal between us, and if you ever read this, know that I think about you whenever another man is inside me. I dream of it being you, ruling my body in ways I have never found with anyone other than you.
I think about how good we looked together, all the places you fucked me like I was your everything. And I know you were unfaithful and that hurt me, but I would look past that if it meant we could be together again. I forgive you, Kings, baby. Please call me and we can talk about it.
I read and keep scrolling, and when it ends I see her number. Then before I can register what is happening, I see her naked picture load right there on my screen. Holy fuck! What the hell? I hurry and exit the app, stunned at what the fuck just happened. Her big, fat tits and bare pussy on my screen like a freight train that I couldn’t stop. I had no idea that when I clicked the little icon, with the saying Download Image, that’ that would be waiting.
Instantly, I feel guilty. I didn’t know what it was, but did I exit fast enough? I didn’t get hard, so I know it didn’t turn me on, but that’s my ex sending pretty explicit pictures and fucking messages. I shouldn’t have read it, ‘cause now it shows I have, and she’s going to want an answer. The old Kingston wouldn’t spare a bitch’s feelings, especially Hilary’s, ‘cause she’s my ex. One I cheated on with a handful of women. One I fucked while imagining a sexy little brunette underneath me.
Her blonde hair and brown eyes did nothing for me. Her body sinful and fucking tight, yes, but it was just another hole. Call me crude, but I don’t care for anyone’s feelings but Lana’s, and that is who I am.
Guilty if I don’t answer back, because the father in me, and the changed man that Lana has made me, feels like I owe her an explanation. But as a lover to my queen, I can’t help but feel like I’m cheating on Lana.
I open the message again, my eyes avoiding the picture as I wrack my brain on what to say. I don’t want to give too much, because that would devastate Lana and I’m not a cheater, but I also want to spare her feelings. Hilary always held a candle to me, hoping my flame would burn for her, but it never did. She loved me—she fell in love with me—all while I was falling in love with Lana. That shit had to hurt, because she knew the entire truth. Hilary knew Lana was it for me, and she didn’t ever stand a chance.
I begin to type, over-explaining myself, when I realize it’s too much. I just need to be curt and put an end to this adolescent, naïve fantasy that Hilary is obviously living.
Hilary,
I’m sorry I lead you on in high school, but I’ve moved on and I’m still happily in love with Lana. Hope love finds you. - Kings
Even though we really aren’t happily in love, I need to make her understand there is no gray area. Lana and I are currently still in love—clinging to it, but still in love. I would never stray from Lana, and entertaining Hilary any further would be wrong.
I lock my screen and let out a deep, shuddering breath. Frustrated and tired as I fall to my back on the couch, placing my feet on the coffee table to the side, I throw my arm over my eyes as the voices from the TV fade out.
I get a flashback of one time when I fucked Hilary in the back of my car. I took her hot that night. It was after I walked in on Lana standing in just her tiny panties, her back to me, while her thin, long, curved spine, met the top of her pert ass. I was horny and wanted to bend Lana over then and there. Instead, I slammed the door with my cock hard, an
