Theresa Paolo - (Never) Again

“We can play after. Come on. We’ll be fast.” Sure, because I always imagined my first time as a wham bam thank you ma’am.

“Joe. No!” My resistance prompted him to wrap his arms around me tighter, as if he thought I was playing hard to get.

I took my arms out from under him and pressed my hands to his shoulders.

“Don’t you love me?” he asked, his bloodshot eyes trying to focus on mine.

“Yes! Now get off of me. Come on.” I put a little more pressure on his shoulders and when he tried to move closer I snapped. “Joe, I said NO!” As the words escaped my mouth, I shoved Joe and went to walk away but he grabbed my arm and spun me towards him. I smacked against his chest, momentarily knocking the wind out of myself. I hadn’t meant to yell or attract any attention to us, but I clearly had.

Heads rotated in our direction. I gave a simple smile to assure everyone we were fine and it was just a stupid lover’s quarrel. But there was one person I couldn’t fool with my fake smile.

Zach stepped through the crowd. “Joe, man, why don’t you leave her alone.”

“Zach, I got this,” I said, urging him away with my eyes. The last thing I needed was my ex defending me from my current boyfriend.

“Dude, she’s my fucking girlfriend.” Joe pushed off the wall and stared at Zach. He swayed to the left, then to the right before leaning his shoulder against the wall. I wanted to curl into a ball and hide.

“Yeah, and you should treat her with a little respect,” Zach said. “Give her the space she asked for.” The veins in his neck were becoming visible as he spoke.

Joe pushed himself off the wall, trying to stand tall. “Why? So you can get in her pants? We all know you didn’t succeed last time.”

Before Joe’s words could fully register, Zach’s fist flew past me and made contact with Joe’s face.

Joe stumbled backwards, smacked into the wall and slid down it into a crumpled ball on the floor. Blood spewed from his nose.

“Oh my God! Joe!” I screamed and dropped to my knees beside him before turning back to Zach. “Why would you do that?” My eyes burned with anger as he stared back at me.

He flung his hands out in front of him. “Did you not hear him?!”

“He’s drunk!” Joe would never intentionally hurt me or force me to do anything I wasn’t comfortable with. He wasn’t in his right frame of mind right now. Besides, I could handle myself. It wasn’t the first time that Joe’s drinking had caused him to come on to me strongly. And I was always able to get him under control without decking him.

“I don’t care if he’s drunk, stoned, or stupid, he had no right to—”

“Get out!” I pointed towards the door.

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me. Get out.” Before I could reiterate, Josh broke through the crowd. Thank God. He would get Zach out of here. There was one thing Josh did not tolerate, and that was violence.

He leaned over, said something in Zach’s ear and gave him a friendly pat on the back. What the hell? Zach nodded and as he walked through the crowd, it parted as if he were Moses at the Red Sea. Tanya followed him out.

Josh headed towards me. He stopped at Joe’s feet and gave him one furious look before saying, “Get him the fuck out! Right now!”

“No!” My hands flew to my hips indignantly. Was Josh kidding me? Why would he take Zach’s side? Besides, this was my place. He didn’t make the rules. I did. Or Sadie. Where the hell was she?

“Liz, if you don’t get him out of here I will pick him up and throw him the fuck out.” Josh and I stared at each other for a few long seconds. The intensity in his usually kind eyes told me he wasn’t budging.

He wasn’t on my team anymore. My brother had jumped ship and was siding with the enemy.

“I hate you,” I mumbled as I helped Joe to his feet.

“You’ll get over it,” he spat back.

“Where’s Scott?” I yelled out to no one in particular. “If he’s in my bedroom, I will castrate him!”

“He’s putting the rest of the band’s stuff away,” someone in the crowd called out.

“Could you get him for me please?” Joe slumped against the wall and slid back down.

Scott appeared moments later. He didn’t seem surprised to see his best friend bleeding on the floor. He knelt down, threw Joe’s arm around his shoulder and stood up.

“Come on, you lush,” Scott said, shaking his head.

I took my position on Joe’s other side and helped Scott get him outside.

“Oh my God! You’re bleeding!” Charlie screeched. She ran over and began dabbing at Joe’s nose with a tissue. You’d think he would wince at her touch, but he must have been too drunk to feel a thing. I could have dropped him face first on the asphalt in the parking lot, and he would’ve curled up and gone to sleep. There had been no reason for Zach to punch him. It was a cheap shot—Joe couldn’t have even fought back if he’d wanted to.

“Shoot, my car is blocked in,” I said, taking in the line of cars behind mine. “How the hell am I supposed to get him home?”

“I’ll take him,” Charlie volunteered.

“Are you sure? I don’t want him to bleed on your seats,” I said, taking in the droplets of blood on the ground.

“It’s okay, I have tissues. Besides I’m parked on the street. It’s your party, Liz, you should stay. I got it.” Charlie took my position under Joe’s arm.

“Really?” I asked, feeling guilty about staying while she had to deal with the mess that was my boyfriend.

“Can someone make a decision? He’s not exactly light.” Scott braced himself as Joe leaned into him.

“I’m sure. Come on Scott, help me get him in,” Charlie said. I followed them, feeling like I should be helping in some way.

When Joe was securely in the passenger seat, seatbelt secured and head resting against the headrest, I kissed him on his forehead, thanked Charlie, and shut the door. Scott disappeared back into the building, but I stood in the street watching the car vanish into the darkness.

I turned, disgusted with my boyfriend. With my brother. With Zach. “What is your problem!” I yelled, storming towards Zach as he leaned against his Jeep.

“Your boyfriend’s a douchebag.”

I stepped closer. “What do you not understand about the fact that he was drunk?”

“And that makes it okay? He can just grab you like that? Hang on you like you’re some kind of—”

I wanted to slap him. Scream in his face. I clenched my fists and stepped even closer. “Some kind of what?”

He looked up, dark eyes even darker. “Like you’re a piece of meat.”

All restraint was lost. My hand pulled back, but before it connected with his cheek he grabbed my wrist. I tried to push it forward, wanting to make some sort of contact, cause him some sort of discomfort, just as he was me.

But his hand was a tight cuff on my wrist and made it impossible. I narrowed my eyes to the evilest glare possible and showed great self-restraint, I thought, by not growling at him. His eyes narrowed back, neither of us blinking. I refused to be the first to break our silent staring contest.

He stepped towards me, my wrist still in his hand, his eyes still intent and focused.

Another step. His spicy scent filled the gap between us. Another step and my breath hitched. He dropped my wrist, his hand sliding up the bare skin of my inner arm, shooting chills straight up my neck. I stood still, frozen by his nearness.

He leaned back, a battle playing out in his eyes as he ran his other hand through his hair. “Screw it,” he said, and before I could utter a single word, his hand wrapped around the back of my neck and drew me close as he crushed his lips to mine.

What the hell was he doing? I had a boyfriend! Yet I didn’t shove him away. Instead, I reached my arm around his neck, my other hand gripping his shirt and tugging him closer to me, my back smacking into his Jeep. Heat shot through me—I could feel it in my chest, my belly, seeping right down to between my thighs.

Every ounce of emotion I felt—anger, loss, fear, desire—released itself into the kiss. His hands roamed down my back, resting on my butt and pushing me hard against him. I felt his erection against my stomach, turning me into a ball of raging hormones.

I parted my lips to let him deepen the kiss. Our tongues danced together, tasting and exploring.

All the feelings I’d turned off when he walked out of my life slammed back into me. I missed this. It felt like home. I knew what I was doing was wrong. But I didn’t want to let go.

I didn’t have to.

Zach pushed away from me. “We shouldn’t do this,” he said breathlessly against my cheek. He rested his forehead against mine, his hand gripping the Jeep to my side.

“I know,” I whispered and when he blinked up, his familiar eyes looking past the surface, reflecting everything I felt, I was sucked in, and all common sense was gone. I mashed my lips to his, pressing my hips into him. Electricity sparked between us again as our tongues met and I moaned.

Needing to feel more of him I reached up, holding his face in my hands. At my touch he thrust his tongue into my mouth and tingles ran across my scalp, continuing down my spine. It was everything I remembered, but even more because of my desperation to make up for all the time lost between us.

Zach ripped away from me, running his hands through his hair. It was like a punch to the gut. I slumped against the Jeep, breathless and spent. The passion faded out of Zach’s gaze and was quickly replaced by anger, disappointment—and what else, I wasn’t really sure. But when his eyes met mine I could feel his discontent.