I snort at this, but quietly. Seeing him cry is… unnerving.
“Please, Kate, let’s talk this out. I love you. I miss you. I need you. I was a dumbass and I will apologize on my knees for the rest of my life. Please, take me back.”
“David.” I struggle to find words because I can’t even comprehend what I’m seeing right now. “You can’t just come in here, after everything that’s happened, and expect me to take you back. I’m done. We are done.”
“Please, Kate.” His voice drops to a whisper, teary streams turn to rivers on his cheeks. “Just talk to me. One drink to let me plead my case. Please.”
My arms stay tight at my sides, my personal shield. Still, watching him cry is a terrible thing. My resolve shatters in a blink.
“Fine. We can talk. I’m not coming back, but we can talk.” I walk backwards to my room to keep an eye on him. “I’ll change. You have one drink. That’s it.”
“Thank you.” He sniffs.
The entire time I’m pulling on some clothes, I feel like an idiot. I have no desire to get back with this man but I can’t just leave him sobbing on my couch. I’m not heartless. One drink, he can pay, and then I gain a clean conscience.
Except he is now naked in my living room. I squeeze my eyes before reopening them to make sure I’m not seeing things. Nope, he’s definitely naked in my living room. Grin on his face.
Somewhere below the smooth surface of Kate McArthur, a volcano erupts.
“Get out!” I yell, throwing everything within reach at him. “Get the hell out of my apartment!”
He doesn’t have time to plead or beg. He doesn’t have time to argue. I chase him out of my apartment, stark naked, with a weighted candlestick, and secure every lock on my door.
“I need my clothes!” he yells through the door.
The neatly folded pile rests on my chaise. I dump them out the window, into the evening traffic. The last thing I see is his button-down flying through the wind like a kite.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
ERIC
“Harder.”
I do.
“Harder.”
I go harder.
“Fucking harder, man. What is this, kindergartener hour?” Paxton laughs at me. “This is some weak shit.”
“Don’t push it again, Pax. Last time, you had a black eye.”
“Eh.” Paxton shrugs it off. “The girls loved it, so bring it on, old man.”
I channel every floating force of confusion and frustration to my hands. David’s face, Kate’s tits, my landlord refusing to fix the shower for the third time. All of it goes flowing through me and into the bag. Sweat stings and my nose runs, but still I throw punches.
Sometimes, I picture Paxton’s smug face, too.
Finally, I collapse against the bag and throw my gloves to the ground. My lungs seize up and I need the space to walk around and breathe. I don’t need to hear Paxton’s shit, I don’t need to see Geoff cackling like a know-it-all jackass, and I don’t need the rest of the gym to see me currently falling to pieces.
Every night for the last week, I’ve jacked off to pictures of Kate. From the moment I left her apartment, I’ve been insatiable. It’s like being back in college again, jacking off every three seconds because I caught a flash of a girl’s thigh while walking through the dorms.
It’s maddening. I’m an adult. I fuck when I want to fuck, but I always have control. Because of Kate, that control is now slipping.
“Look, you just need to finally admit this shit.”
Paxton jogs to catch up with me near the ring. A pair of women from my office is beating the shit out of each other. It usually cheers me up. Today it doesn’t.
“I’m serious, man. This is unlike you. I get she’s a hot piece of ass, but is she really worth all this bullshit?”
She was worth everything and that’s what makes it maddening. Sex with her feels different, but it’s more than the sex. It’s more than her wit. It’s more than her bangin’ body.
“I’ve fucked my fair share of women in the last several years.” I lean against the ropes for a better look. Evelyn’s nose is bleeding but she doesn’t tap out. Respect. “Picked up a lot of women and never called them again.”
“More than your fair share, I’d say.” Paxton jokes. “You certainly know your way around a vagina.”
“I’ve been with hot women, smart women, models, rich socialites, other attorneys. I’ve fucked good girls, the girl next door, the girl across the street. All ethnicities. I don’t discriminate in the bedroom against damn near anything.”
“As long as they’re hot, far as I could always tell.” Paxton agrees. “Hot comes in a lot of flavors. So what makes her different?”
“I don’t fucking know.” I slam my fist against the top of the ring post. “I’ve been stressing over this shit for ages. I can’t fuck her out of my system.”
“Have you picked up anyone else since you started banging her?”
I shake my head once, definitively. I know what he was going to suggest and I can’t bring myself to do it. I saw the way she looked at me with lipstick on my cheek. That fucked with me for days and I don’t want to go back to it.
“Maybe you should.”
“No.”
“Then you better figure that shit out soon. Fucking her because you hate your client isn’t a good enough reason anymore.” Paxton slaps my back and shoots a two-finger salute.
I don’t have any answers so I hit the showers. Nothing in there, either. All I got is she’s some sort of magical combination of every girl I’ve ever liked… or I’m getting old. And I don’t
