White Lies

Blue Hyacinth

Blanche is pissed off. She's allowed to be. Hunter curses himself for being a Grade A Moron. He shouldn't have done what he did, but the temptation was too strong to resist.

I'm a fucking man and I have needs, he repeats the thoughts in his mind. It's what he wants to tell Blanche, but he can't say it out loud without seeming like a disrespectful oaf or an insensitive git. He grinds his teeth, tensing the muscles in his jaw which will surely cause him some pain later on. It will be a welcomed distraction, considering his balls have been aching for quite some time now. No amount of jacking off in the shower has done him good. He needs to be inside a woman like he needs to breathe.

Frustration creeps under his skin. No wonder Blanche has avoided him. Believing that the beauty across from him doesn't want anything to do with a man with a lack of self-discipline, he has finally given up to his weakness and welcomed the latest woman who has hinted an interest in him and his private parts. But Blanche came home early.

"I thought you'll be home later," is his lame excuse. He winces at the pathetic sound of his voice.

Bee furrows her brows, calmly places her phone on the table and sips on her cup. "I didn't realize you were... entertaining someone," she says quietly, eyes away from him.

"I wasn't..." Hunter wonders if there's a Dummies book on How Not to be a Dummy. He rubs his eyes with the back of a hand. The late nights are getting to him. The late nights alone has been hard to bear.

"It's fine, Hunter," Blanche says, but she won't allow herself to look up. "Next time, let me know ahead of time, tie a ribbon or hang a sock on the doorknob. That's how things work, right?" He doesn't miss the inflection in her voice.

Frustrated, Hunter covers his face with his hands, groaning into them. "It's not... I wasn't doing anything. We weren't... we were about to, but we didn't... "

"Doesn't matter." Anger laces Bee's voice.

Why does he feel like a teenager caught by his parents doing something he shouldn't be doing?

"Look, Blanche, I'm sorry." He hits his fist on the table, making the cup jump. Luckily, nothing spills. "I was just showing her some of my artwork."

"Who? Red? That's fine. Whatever you call it but I said..."

Hunter interjects, "Red? What does she have anything to do with this?"

Bee rolls her eyes, remaining indignant. "Who else could it be? I saw how you... never mind." She breathes in, chest rising, and raises a hand up.

"That wasn't Red. That was Leona. She's doing an article on my designs. I had a meeting with her after dinner at Jay's and she asked to check out my stuff."

"Leona? Who's Leona?" Bee sounds curious, maybe too curious for her liking. Hunter can't help but be hopeful. It's been difficult to figure out what he feels for this woman.

He explains, "She's a freelance writer. She's doing a piece on the awards coming up and... wait. Why would you think I was with Red? Leona doesn't look anything like Red. For one thing, Leona is Mexican."

Bee lets her thoughts slip. "It was dark. I thought she had red hair. You and Red seemed pretty chummy at work."

"I've known Red a long time. We've been working side by side for years. And she..." He stops and watches Bee's reaction. As he continues, the furrow on her forehead deepens. "It wasn't Red. It will never be Red." Hunter waits for Blanche to rebut, but she only lifts her cup and sips. He places his elbows on the small table and drops his head on his hands. "I'm sorry, Honey Bee."

Her cup shakes on the small plate as she slams it down. "Do not call me that!I am not your Honey. My name is Blanche. Only my friends can call me Bee."