Totally Tormented (4 page)

Lindsay was looking up at both of them as they spit game at her. She seemed to kind of be falling for it, actually. She laughed hard at something Tim said, covering her mouth as her cheeks reddened.

“Is that your girlfriend?” I turned to find Brooklyn watching me with a crafty smile playing at the corners of her lips. “She seems to be enjoying herself.”

“She’s not my girlfriend,” I said, but the words came out harsh and acidic.

“You sure?”

“Positive.”

Brooklyn folded her arms and leaned back against the wall. I realized it was just her and I talking with each other. Malcolm had become engrossed in conversation with some white dude with dreadlocks and a cast on his arm.

I wanted badly to see what was going on behind me with Lindsay and those guys.

Why was she laughing? Did she actually find those idiots funny?

“I think you like her, though,” Brooklyn said, cutting into my thoughts.

“We’re just friends.” I took another sip of my beer and turned away from Lindsay. “She’s not my type.”

“What is your type?”

I shrugged. “Rough, knows what she wants, isn’t afraid of anything. And doesn’t play head games.”

“Everyone plays head games.”

“I disagree.”

“You’re playing them right now, with what’s- her-name over there.”

“Bullshit.”

Brooklyn straightened and moved towards me suddenly. “Prove it, then.”

“Prove what?”

“Prove you’re not into that girl. Prove you aren’t with her. Kiss me on the lips, right now.” Her voice had turned a little huskier, and when she moved toward me, she leaned forward just enough so that I got a view of her ample cleavage.

“I’m not going to do that,” I said, shaking my head and putting the beer to my lips.

“That’s because you’re lying.”

“I don’t lie.”

“Maybe not to me, Justin Brown,” she said, leaning back against the wall again and taking a slow sip of her drink. “But you might be lying to yourself.”

“You can call me JB,” I told her. “And I don’t have to prove anything to you.”

But she had a point. Why was I spending all of this mental energy on someone I knew I couldn’t be with? Was I just trying to torture myself?”

“Whatever. It looks like not everyone is as timid as The Barbarian,” Brooklyn laughed, as she looked past me.

I turned around in time to see Tim and Virgil leading Lindsay out of the room.

“What the— ” Instinctively, I moved after them. I caught up with Lindsay in just a couple of strides, grabbing her wrist. “What are you doing?” I said.

She spun, pulled away from me. “What’s your problem?”

“Where are you going?”

Tim and Virgil were watching us now. Virgil laughed. “Relax, dude. We were just going to show her Quarry’s awesome game room.”

I didn’t even pay attention to him. I looked at Lindsay. “Are you drunk?”

“No, I’m not drunk! I’ve hardly even had a beer. I’m totally fine.”

“She’s fine, JB,” Tim said. “So why don’t you chill?”

“I need to talk to you for a second,” I told her. “Now.”

“Fine,” she sighed.

“Come on.” I led her away from those two bozos and down to the first floor, where everything was quiet and calm and we could have some privacy.

“Why are you acting like a jerk?” she said, the moment we were alone.

I paused before answering. Seeing her standing there, the light from the window cascading over her shoulders, she looked almost angelic. It stunned me momentarily—

and a voice inside my head screamed, KISS HER ALREADY! WHAT THE HELL IS

WRONG WITH YOU?

But I gathered my senses. “I’m not trying to be a jerk, Lindsay. But I know those guys—the ones you were talking to. They’re not nice guys.”

“It was harmless.”

“How do you know?”

“I just know. Like how I knew you were harmless.”

“Maybe you’re wrong about me.”

That quieted her. She closed her mouth and looked down, her eyes wandering as if trying to come up with something to combat my logic. Finally, she spoke again, softly, in something close to a whisper. “You brought me to this stupid party. What do you expect me to do, Justin, stand in the corner all night while you talk with to the cute girls?”

“That was my fault. I shouldn’t have brought you here, Lindsay. Let me call you a cab.”

Now she looked up at me again, and the hurt in her eyes was unmistakable.

“You’re not leaving with me?”

I did want to go with her, but I knew that nothing good would come of it. I couldn’t be her boyfriend, as much as I might like the idea. The best I could do now was protect her from me, from this world. Send her away and then do my best to stay away from her. “I can’t leave with you. This is my job, it’s where I’m meant to be. But it’s not where you’re meant to be.”

“Fine. I’m leaving.” She turned and walked out the door.

“Lindsay!” I followed after her. “Hey, I’m calling you a cab. Where are you going?”

She kept walking down the steps. “We’re in Brookline, not Southie. I can take the T home or even walk. I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself.”

“Lindsay, please. Try and understand—”

She was starting to run now. “Just leave me alone, Justin!” she yelled, and then she rounded the corner and I knew it was a waste of time to keep chasing after her.

***

Some hours later, I’d had another three or four drinks and hung out with Malcolm and Jimbo, who were both really cool guys. We hung out in the game room and played pool, while Brooklyn watched and made little snarky comments.

I could tell she was interested in me. What surprised me was that I didn’t feel much interest in her. She was attractive, she was dressed in a sexy little outfit, she obviously had a rocking tight body. And she wasn’t dumb either. In fact, she was very quick-witted.

These were all qualities that I normally liked in a girl.

But for some reason, I just wasn’t concerned with giving Brooklyn any attention.

Finally, it was getting late enough that people were starting to leave. I was feeling drunk and a little depressed. I kept wanting to text Lindsay, just to make sure she got home okay.

Leave it alone,
I told myself.
She doesn’t want you bugging her. It’s for the best.

Brooklyn had been watching us play pool for nearly an hour. When Jimbo left to go to the bathroom, she walked over to me. “So, what’s the deal? Are you just totally indifferent to me or what?”

I leaned on my pool stick. “I’m not indifferent. I’m just tired. I went about a million rounds last night.”

“That’s no excuse.” She smiled and leaned in to whisper in my ear. “I’m going home. Want to come with?”

I thought about it. A million possibilities flashed through my head. I pictured her naked, on top of me, both of us sweating, doing it like a couple of animals. Then I imagined afterwards, how I’d lay next to her and figure out when I could get the hell out of there without seeming like an asshole.

“I think I’m too tired and beat up,” I said. “Can I take a rain check?”

She made a surprised face. “It’s not often a guy says no to me. Especially someone who works for my dad. But have it your way, Justin Brown. Have it your way.” And then she walked out of the room, her hips swaying as she shook her ass provocatively.

Malcolm watched her go and then whistled, looking back at me. “You do realize that Quarry’s daughter wants to fuck your ever living brains out, right?”

“That’s Quarry’s daughter?”

Malcolm laughed. “Hell, yeah. And she’s hot as hell. What’s wrong with you?”

I was stunned. “I just…fuck. I had no clue.”

“That girl is something else. She’s like the perfect woman. Hot as shit, knows fighting inside and out, and not too shabby in the brains department, either.”

I sighed and rubbed my face. “I’m just not thinking straight lately.”

“Obviously not.” Malcolm shook his head and took his shot. “Every guy in the damn gym has hit on her at one time or another and she’s never shown an ounce of interest until you came along.” He chuckled to himself. “And then she chooses the one clown who couldn’t give a fuck about her because he’s stuck on some other girl.”

“I’m not stuck on anybody.”

Malcolm rolled his eyes. “Sure you’re not.” He laughed. “Keep on telling yourself that, brother.”

A few minutes later, I’d lost my taste for the game and the beer. It was time to go. As I was leaving, someone clapped a hand on my shoulder like a vice. I turned around and saw Quarry there, looking at me with a strange expression on his face. For an instant, I wondered if Brooklyn had said something bad about me. And then he grinned.

“Did you have fun tonight?”

“Yeah, I did. Thanks. Awesome place you’ve got here.”

“Thanks. I built it with my blood and bones. Almost literally.” His flinty eyes seemed to look into my soul. “Every brick, I paid for in brain cells and hemoglobin.”

“That’s a grim picture.”

“It is what it is. Warriors are born to fight, and we know that the body is just currency.”

“I’d like to keep as many brain cells as possible, though.”

“Then you’re in the wrong business.”

I shrugged. “I guess we’ll find out.”

Quarry moved closer. I could smell stale beer and chips on his breath. “You can be great, man. Great. Do you know how many guys can say that?”

I shook my head. “No.”

“Almost nobody,” he replied. “I wasn’t great. I couldn’t have been great, either.

And out of my whole team, there’s not one guy right now that can be at the top of the sport. Not even Tim, and he’s fucking awesome. But he’s just—he is what he is.”

I wasn’t sure if Quarry was being serious, or maybe just drunk. After all, Tim was a professional and he held the heavyweight belt. “Well, thanks for the compliment. I appreciate it.”

Now Quarry leaned in even closer. “You’ve got a responsibility to your own potential,” he growled. “You have to do everything—I mean
everything
—to bring out the best in yourself. No matter what. No matter what it takes. Just like Lance Armstrong did everything it fucking took to be the best.”

“Yeah, but he cheated.”

This made Quarry smile. “He was also the best there ever was in cycling, and I guarantee you he wouldn’t trade those years for anything in this world.”

“I guess.” My head was starting to spin, a combination of the alcohol and not resting as much as I should have after fighting last night.

“Now you think about what I said and I’ll see you back at the gym tomorrow.”

“Okay, see you, Coach.” I walked down the stairs, said goodbye to Z, and left the house and the party behind.

I took the train home, my brain sluggish from too much alcohol and questions that didn’t have answers. I was unsure of what Quarry had been trying to tell me, if there even was anything behind the nonsense about Lance Armstrong and my potential for greatness.

And then I kept flashing back to Lindsay, wondering where she was right now, wanting to text her, talk to her, something.

I was able to resist the urge, but it was very difficult.

Once home, the apartment was too quiet. Wyatt must have gone to bed and Gilbert hadn’t come back, so it was empty and silent, and turning on the TV for company didn’t help.

Pouring myself a large glass of water, I washed it down with a couple of aspirin and then climbed into bed, closed my eyes, and tried to let my body relax so I could fall into a much needed sleep.

But sleep just wouldn’t come. I tossed and turned, listening to the sound of my heartbeat in my ears, staring up at the ceiling. I sighed loudly, frustrated. I’d never had a problem falling asleep. In fact, I was kind of known as a guy who could sleep anywhere, and I’d often be out before my head even hit the pillow.

Being drunk and tired and beaten up, I knew I should’ve been more than ready to drift off. Except that I couldn’t let go. Something was in the way, something was stopping me.

You know what it is,
my mind said.
You know why you can’t sleep.

Lindsay’s face flashed through my memory. And then I started remembering the way it felt when we were in the shower together, the way I could see so much when the water made her panties and bra cling tightly to her body. I could see everything.

Now I was hard. I was harder than I’d ever been in my damn life and all I wanted to do was fall asleep.

It was so frustrating that I nearly screamed.

Maybe you need to just spank one out,
I thought. But no. No. If I did that right now, I’d be thinking about Lindsay. I’d be fantasizing about her.

Aren’t you already?

I squeezed my eyes shut tight and tried to go blank, but all that happened was I conjured up an image of her incredibly sexy ass in those soaking wet panties.

“Fuck this,” I swore, sitting bolt upright in my bed. “Fuck this.”

The bottom line was I just needed Lindsay to come back and sleep with me tonight. I needed her with me, in my bed. I wouldn’t touch her, but I had to have her close one more time.

***

A little while later, I was standing outside her dorm, debating whether or not I should go in unannounced.

You could text her.

No, she would just ignore me. Texting, phone calls, they wouldn’t work for this kind of situation. This demanded an in-person appearance. This demanded face-to-face communication for sure.

I’d pissed her off and hurt her feelings. She was mad as hell.

Now I wanted her to come and spend the night at my apartment.

I needed to explain. Of course, I knew at some level there was no good explanation for any of this.

I couldn’t believe I was just standing here, debating with myself. Then I thought maybe I should just go home. If I couldn’t sleep, I couldn’t sleep.

Or, you could tell Lindsay the truth. Tell her why you won’t kiss her, tell her why
you sent her out of the party. Just tell her the whole damn thing.

Someone was coming out of the dorm. It was a tall, lanky dude with that crazy frizzy hair that all the hipsters were sporting these days.