Love Nouveau (4 page)

“Guys like him are anything but unsuspecting,” I correct Rachel. “He’s practically eye-fucking anything with two legs and breasts in this place.”

I crave nothing more than one night of unattached company. It’s been too long. And Rachel can see it in my eyes. My instincts kick into overdrive and every guy in the place becomes an opportunity. A challenge. A missing name on my roster of conquests.

For the past year, I have been angelic. They should have a patron saint named after my celibate efforts. After all this time, you can’t fault a girl for wanting a good, rough roll in the hay.

Rachel playfully rolls her eyes at me and bumps my hip with hers. “Let’s go, Ivy. I need a drink.”

Never one for waiting, Rachel bypasses the snaking line and walks right up to the keg, grabbing two beers from the fraternity guy manning the tap. She whispers something in his ear and his face flushes crimson before she pecks a kiss on his cheek and turns back to me.

Looks like I'm not the only one fishing for company this evening.

We make several rounds through the house and find our way outside, reconnecting with classmates I haven’t seen in ages. I’m in the middle of recounting the tale of getting locked in the restroom of the Galleria dell’Accademia at closing time when Rachel’s eyes go wide.

Strong arms wrap around my waist in a vice from behind as a wolfish voice husks in my ear, “I heard you were back in town.” I freeze, stunned at the intimate touch and hot breath against my neck. I recognize the voice instantly and it sends a warning chill down my spine.

“Jesus, Matt. Get off me,” I reply, weaseling my way out of his grasp, then turning around to face him.

“Come on, Ivy. I’ve missed you so much this past year.” He eyes me with a certainty reserved for a lion on the cusp of tasting its prey.

“You mean you’ve missed having a Cotter girl on your arm.”

“Well, yeah. I mean … dating you certainly came with its … privileges,” he smirks.

Privileges.
Right
. That’s just another way of saying he enjoyed being so close to my parent’s money. And while I wasn’t exactly the portrait of fidelity, he practically had a love affair with my parents every time I brought him home.

Matt pulls me away from the crowd to talk on the side of the house. It’s a little quieter here so I can hear myself think over the thrumming bass line of the music.

“When did you get back?” He seems genuinely interested, but if he thinks I’m going home with him tonight he’s sorely mistaken. I look over his shoulder, trying to find someone,
anyone
, who can rescue me from this conversation. He flashes that mischievous smile capable of dropping panties from miles away.

“I know that you harassed Rachel about my travel plans and that you were well aware I got back this afternoon, so don’t even try to play this off like a coincidence.” I defensively fold my arms. “Shouldn’t you be back in Chicago?”

“Why do you have to go and be like that?” He crosses his arms defensively.

“Like what?”

Matt looks to the ground in thought and sighs. “Never mind.”

I cannot even believe that we are having this conversation. Just yesterday I was saying goodbye to Italy, and after only a few hours in Wisconsin I already have pieces of my old life trying to suck me back up in its drama. I should have never come home.

“Let me take you out.”

“We
are
out, Matt,” I state obviously.

“That’s not what I meant. Come on, Ivy. You know we’re great together. Our parents loved us together.”

My gaze is vacant at his statement and I want to hole up into myself, disappearing completely. “Right. Because we should be doing everything our parents expect us to do?”

Matt opens his mouth to say something and snaps it shut quickly, looking away.

“We broke up for a reason,” I remind him curtly.

“And I’ve spent the last nine months trying to figure that reason out. I was willing to overlook you sneaking around behind my back just so I could be with you.”

My stern exterior cracks a little at his admission. But mostly, I just feel really sorry for him knowing that he only stayed with me because of my last name. It’s impossible to respect someone who knew they were being cheated on and never did a damn thing about it like a little bitch.
Grow some balls, man.

But it’s true. I never did tell him how unhappy I was and that I never really gave a damn about our “relationship.” His very existence grated on my every nerve. It got to the point where watching him chew his food made me want to strike him with the back of my hand. How the mere sound of his voice would make my insides coil with nausea.

In spite of this, Matt was always reliable for one thing, allowing me to close my eyes and lose myself at the touch of his skilled hands. I could spend days between the sheets of his bed, forgetting about the expectations of my parents, the expectations of myself … hell, even forgetting my own name. You could say I used him and I would be the first to openly admit that.

Ultimately though, I didn’t end things because of him. I ended things because I hated who I had become when I was with him. Our relationship, if you can even call it that, was all for appearances. I had become unapologetically slutty, and frankly, I didn’t care.

At the end of the day, I played along for so long because my parents adored Matt, which meant they stayed out of my hair as a result. The less involved they were in my life, the better. Matt adored having an elusive Cotter girl on his arm, and I simply adored the cover he provided for my outrageous collegiate shenanigans.

Matt’s remorseful eyes capture mine and I’m reminded of the unspoken words that passed between us when we first met. We started dating spring semester of my freshman year at UW. I bumped into Matt at the student union, literally. I stopped by the cafeteria in between classes to grab a soda, rounded a corner too quickly, and turned his white henley into a piece of Orange Crush modern art. As I stood there horrified, he gave me the comforting look as if to say, “Everything will be all right but you are
so
going to make this up to me.” Matt never technically asked me out, but we were pretty much inseparable from that day forward, and things progressed to the physical realm rather quickly.

I used to think we had instant chemistry. But I now know that if you think something often enough, it becomes reality.

“Please?”

I’m not sure exactly what he’s asking, but he is obviously hurting. Frankly, I don’t have time for his charade. Matt is part of my past and that’s exactly where I need to leave him.

“Come with me.” He pulls on my hand. “Let’s go grab a drink together, catch up.” Quickly, I draw my arm back to my body, grinding my teeth.

“Matt … just go. Okay?” He needs to leave me alone before my open fist meets his face. I really don’t want our exchange to cause a scene, but I’m not above it.

“One drink. That’s all I’m asking.”

“No.”

His face contorts as if he’s swallowed something bitter and we stand there in a Mexican standoff, each waiting for the other to make a move. He can’t seem to get it through his thick skull that we are never happening again.
Ever.

I turn to move back to the party and Matt panics, knowing that I’m on the verge of slipping through his fingers. He’s desperate and gives me that piercing look that made my insides tingle once upon a time.

“Pleeeeeease?” he pleads.

Jesus, stop begging.
This boy is pathetically relentless.

A heavy sigh escapes my lips as I calculate my next move. “Fine.”

“Really?” Matt’s eyes light up with surprise. I purse my lips together and nod, pausing to make sure no one is watching.

I think to myself,
bottoms up, asshole,
and throw the remaining contents of my beer in Matt’s face. Shock registers and he mutters a string of indecipherable obscenities under his breath. I turn on my heel and make my way back into the party to find Rachel.

I catch a glimpse of Matt storming toward the front yard in haste. If only he had stormed away that day in the cafeteria, I wouldn’t be in this position right now. Hopefully, he’s gone.
Indefinitely.

Empowered and invincible. That’s how I feel in this moment. Adrenaline pulsates through my veins and the natural high makes me untouchable.

Rejoining Rachel, I’m pleased to see that Cassie and a few other folks I recognize have finally made it. Cassie squeals and pulls me into a tight hug, spilling her beer on the ground. It feels good to be among my closest friends again.

“Now,” I breathe, “where were we?” I shake off my exchange with Matt and twirl a few loose hairs around my finger, tucking the locks behind my ear.

“Oh no … what’d you do, Ivy?” Rachel deadpans. Out of everyone on this Earth, Rachel can read me like an open book. I really need to work on my poker face.

“It’s nothing, really.”

“No,” she says pointedly, “you’re doing that thing. With your hair.” Damn it.
My tell.
“What’d he do this time?” she asks with a sigh.

“He insisted on getting a drink with me. I insisted he leave me alone. And so he left me with no other choice than to give him
my
drink,” I spat quickly. “If you’d like to catch up with him, just look for the pissed off soaked shirt in the front yard.”

“You didn’t,” Cassie gasps.

“I did.” I can barely contain the smirk on my lips.

“You think he’d take a hint by now,” Rachel comments.

Unfortunately for me, he has never been that smart. To him, I was the answer to all of his problems. To me, he was a mindless escape from all of the drama and troubles I left behind in Chicago. Eventually, he found himself twisted into my life and went so far as to make a home for himself with my family. It’s completely my fault for ever allowing it to get that far.

When I elected to take my senior year abroad to get away from him and everyone else in my life, Matt was less than thrilled. I broke his heart, and from what mutual friends had told me, he’d found solace in the bed of a few dozen girls. Even through his haste, Matt continued to claim that I was the one for him and constantly pleaded his case to be together. He wrote me nearly every week while I was in Italy, even though it fell on deaf ears. Then, he went as far as finding a job at a major ad agency in downtown Chicago with the intent of winning me back together after I graduated. While most girls would be thrilled at the thought of an old flame pining away and turning their life upside down waiting for their return, I was turned off.

“Well, let’s go get you another drink. You know, in case Matt decides to come back,” Cassie chimes, pulling us back inside the house. Her blonde ringlets fit her personality—bouncy and out of control.

It isn’t until this very moment I realize just how much I’d missed my friends while I was away. My heart aches a little for the time lost.

ON OUR WAY BACK INTO the house, Cassie gets lost in the crowd and I can only assume she has made her way onto the makeshift dance floor in the backyard. The attractive guy in Greek letters is lingering by the keg and gives Rachel a sly smile. She wraps one arm around his waist and he leans over, kissing her hair.

Clearly I’ve missed something as they obviously already know each other. He tucks his hand in Rachel’s back pocket and runs his finger tenderly down the edge of her nose, and I can’t help but feel like a Peeping Tom as the pair flirt shamelessly.
Get a room, already.
It’s clear she wants to spend some time with this guy but her eyes read guilty for leaving me to fend for myself.

I kiss Rachel on the cheek and shoo her and the hottie away with a flick of my wrist. I’m a big girl and perfectly capable of entertaining myself at a party.

The crowd inside the house has finally thinned out, and almost everyone is in the backyard grinding on each other to the beat of the music. Alone in my thoughts, I fight the annoyance of Matt’s surprise visit. Why the hell did he bother showing up? He lives in Chicago and needs to stay there. I haven’t even been home for twenty-four hours and I’m already itching to put space between me and the drama of my former life.

I snatch the tap from the keg, furiously pouring myself another beer, not caring about the two inches of foam on top. On the counter is a colorful rainbow of Jell-O shots, so I quickly grab one and throw my head back, swallowing the citrusy libation whole. Then another.

And another.

I wasn’t planning on going on a bender tonight, but after my run-in with Matt it seems as though the universe has other plans for me.

I spy Rachel and her ‘beau du jour’ in the crowd of people below the porch, their lips locked tightly together as they move to the music. I mentally calm myself with each passing sip of beer and fresh air. The crowd in the backyard is thickening, booming speakers beckoning everyone to dance as a sea of limbs pulsates with the music below me.

“Well,
that
was an entertaining performance,” a deep voice says next to me.

I look to my right and the lickable, green-eyed man from earlier is standing there smiling in all of his golden-haired glory. It should seriously be illegal for anyone to be this good looking. “You know, you should be more careful. I’d hate for a girl like you to get a bad rap,” he says, eyeing me slowly before nudging my shoulder.

“Girl like me?”

“Yeah.” He pauses thoughtfully. “Beautiful. Mysterious. Confident. And pissed off.”

Ah, he must have seen me with Matt. I give him a sly, flirtatious smile. “Don’t worry. He deserved it,” I reply sweetly, my voice void of tension. He seems a little older than the typical college crowd. A grad student, perhaps? Too old to be in classes, but too young to be staying in on a weeknight.

“Are you graduating?”

“Nah, I’m just in town from Chicago for a long weekend. This is my younger brother’s place. He’s only twenty and lost his fake ID when he got pulled over with a DUI last month. Since he has no way to hit up the bars without it, he went the old fashioned route with a house party.” He gestures grandly with his hand. “Hence, the soiree, and you existing in my very presence. You’re welcome.” He playfully smirks as his eyes zero in on an athletic, olive-skinned, black-haired sorority girl grinding on one of her girlfriends. His gaze is so intense he’s practically devouring her in his mind. Cocky much?