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I lock myself in the bathroom for a bit, suddenly hating the fact I don't have my own bedroom to hide in. I need time to process things and even though the guys have already seen me cry, this time I don't want them to. It feels more personal… the betrayal even worse than before.
It was hard enough coming to the realization that Aaron had cheated on me, but to find out it was with my own best friend – that was something else. All the times she had come over and hung out with us, comforted me… Hell, when I told her about the chlamydia. Fuck, did it come from her? How many girls were there?
I have spent my life being there for everyone, helping people even when it started to drown me. And I never asked for help or anything in return. All the times I helped Max with her problems, talked to her about her stupid dating life… when all this time she was going behind my back with my boyfriend.
How the fuck could she even look me in the eye?
I've been in the bathroom for about half an hour when there's a tiny knock at the door. Before I can answer, the handle turns, the door creeping open as Chase pops his head through the gap.
"You okay, Hurricane?" he asks quietly, his eyes finding me in the corner of the room leaning against the glass shower door.
I look up at him with red eyes, shrugging. "I'm not a hurricane, Chase. I'm a sad, depressing rain shower."
Chase opens the door more, stepping inside. He closes the door behind him before walking over and sitting down in front of me. "Hey, you know what? I love rain showers. They are amazing to listen to. I love opening the window, listening to the rain pelt down outside. They bring a nice cool, relaxing breeze and sometimes I like to stand outside and just let the rain hit my face."
I watch him carefully, absorbing his words as best as I can. I don't agree at all – rainy days are depressing. You can't do much and your shoes feel gross when they get wet. But yet, there's still something behind his words that brings me a little sense of comfort right now.
He grabs my hands, pulling them between us. "Fuck them both off. You deserve better. We could be really vindictive. We could make a fake profile and blackmail him? Would blackmail cheer you up?"
A random laugh bursts out of my mouth at his words, his eyes lit up and hopeful at the thought of mischievous illegal activity. "I don't know. Maybe."
Chase grins. "We could make him send you money. And you could splurge on some new clothes for dates."
I shake my head. "I think we're going to pause the dating thing for a bit."
"But dating and sex would make you feel better. You could use it to escape."
I laugh. "I don't want to deal with anybody, except you guys. I just need space from people."
I'm too exhausted to even care that my words came out the wrong way again. Of course, I'm referring to seeing people in general, notyou know, sleeping with the random track stars I'm shacked up with right now.
Chase looks at me with his usual cinnamon-bun face. "I'll sleep with you. If it would help you relax."
Laughter bubbles out again at the outlandish idea. He raises an eyebrow at me, not saying anything. I pause, looking at him closely. "You're serious?"
"Of course I am. Sex doesn't have to mean anything. We could use it to help you get more confident – plus you know, orgasms and stuff help with stress," he shrugs.
I snort. "I wouldn't know."
Aaron was my first and only experience when it came to the love stick, but even I know that the sex we had was average at best. Sure, it wasn't terrible. A guy with an ego that size obviously has to feel confident from somewhere, but I guess what the girls in college say was correct. It doesn't matter what the size is if it's not used properly.
Sex felt good but Aaron wasn't the type of guy to care about my pleasure. It was about doing the deed and de-stressing – him, I mean. He never got me to the summit, nor did he care. Once he was done, it was back to watching the tv, heading out to see his friends or rolling over and going to sleep. He hated going down on me, leading me to believe I had a gnome down in my lady garden.
I'm not completely clueless though. I've masturbated of course, and I've gotten myself off before. But playing my bits acoustically just doesn't seem to feel all that worth it. I considered buying toys, but when I researched them one night, I was blown away by how expensive a buzzing buddy could be so I dismissed that idea.
"The anal pimple didn't get you off during sex?" Chase asks with a scoff.
I rub my forehead. "Please…pleasedon't ever use the words 'anal pimple' and 'sex' in the same sentence again. But no, no he didn't."
I expect Chase to laugh or make a joke, so when he pulls a disgruntled face, it takes me by surprise.
"What an asshole. It should always be about mutual pleasure. In fact, some guyslovemaking sure their girl gets lots of pleasure. They get off on it."
I shrug, trying to ignore my cheeks feeling like my face is being pushed against a fireplace. "Aaron is selfish. But at least if I don't know what I'm missing, I can't miss it, right?"
Chase rolls his eyes. "That's a terrible way to look at it. You deserve someone who will shatter you into a million pieces in the best way possible, then put you back together so you shine so bright that you glow for days afterwards."
I swallow hard, shifting awkwardly on the tiles. "We can't do it. It would make things so awkward with me living here. Plus, I don't want to make the other guys uncomfortable. But thank you, anyway."
