A Nice Guy

31

My smile vanishes. Fuck. That's not the reaction I'd anticipated at all. My heart starts to pound in my chest. "I don't even know what you're talking about, Hazel—will you just relax and let me explain?" I quickly attempt to come up with a valid excuse as to why I'd been treating her like shit tonight, but nothing comes to mind. Absolutely nothing. I blame it on the alcohol. If I were sober, creating a lie to get me out of this would be a fucking breeze.

"Don't tell me to fucking relax," she spits. "This is all just a game to you. You just like to fuck with my feelings because you have nothing better to do."

I bite my cheek. Such a bad habit, but I can't help it. I take a deep breath. "I love you Hazel." I don't know what else to say, genuinely. I'm hoping she'll get emotional and apologize for the assumptions, as she normally does, but she's seemingly unaffected by the statement.

She just laughs. Rolls her eyes. "You don't love me, you just love fucking me." Not true. Well, I do love fucking her, but that's not all. I just can't come up with any other reasons why I love her in this very moment. What? Give me a break.

"And I lied before," she continues. "I don't love you, I'm just attached to you because you took advantage of me. Like Angel said, it's a fucking trauma response." There's a pause, and her voice gets quiet. "I'll admit it, though. Lately I've been a willing participant. It makes me feel like shit, but I think that's why I do it. The excitement I get from it in the moment is amazing, but then later on, when I'm all by myself thinking about what I'd done, I try to convince myself I should just die. I feel like I deserve to die sometimes..." she lets her words trail off before clearing her throat. "But like I said, we're done. No contact. If we see each other in public, we didn't. If Derrick asks you to come over, he didn't. Don't fucking come around me anymore."

Truthfully, I don't even register anything she said besides that last part. I take a step back, running a hand through my hair; anxiety and panic searing through my body. How do I fix this? What do I say? What do I do? I feel like I'm having a panic attack. I hold the back of my neck and start to pace the room.

"You can't do this to me," I tell her. "You can't just cut me out of your life, not after everything that's happened."

"I can do whatever I want."

I scoff. That's my fucking line. "Oh yeah, you've proven that by fucking me behind Derrick's back. You're such an independent woman, Hazel. Bravo." I tell her, clapping my hands together sarcastically.

She holds her hand in the air, freezing for a second. Listening. She glares at me. "Outside," she commands. She struggles to get out of her chair, and I almost help her, but I don't. I turn on my heel and slam open the screen door, walking towards my belongings I'd left by the pool. I grab the cigarette pack and lighter that are shoved into my pant's pocket, then walk back towards the patio.

I place a cigarette between my lips and attempt to light it. I struggle with it at first, shaking with too much adrenaline to properly light it. I hear Hazel walking up behind me. I try again, finally able to strike a flame. I take a drag as she quietly stands behind me.

I clench my jaw. Take another drag. "This isn't fair, Hazel." Silence. I close my eyes, flicking the built up ash away. "If you think I'll leave you alone then you're wrong." A chuckle unwillingly escapes my lips as I shake my head. "The only way I'll do that is if you tell Derrick about us."

She stands in front of me, snatching the cigarette from my lips. She carelessly tosses it towards the pool. "You wouldn't like what I'd tell him."

We stare at each other. It's more of a glare, actually. I know what she means by that. But honestly, I don't think Derrick would believe her side of the story anyways. He's the type of guy that only hears the main details in a story, which in this case would be her sleeping with someone else. I smile. "Go ahead. I want you to tell him. Actually, I'm fucking begging you to tell him." She furrows her brows. "Yeah," I laugh. "Give him all the details while you're at it."

I light up another cigarette, taking a drag just to blow the smoke in her face. She doesn't flinch. "Tell him about how you sucked my dick in there," I point towards the kitchen. "How you begged me to come over so you could do it."

She raises her hand up to my face, attempting to slap me, but I catch her wrist before she makes contact. We stare at each other, motionless. I pull her close to me, her wrist still trapped in my grip. I let the cigarette fall to the ground, instead using the hand that held it to graze her cheek with my thumb. I hear her gulp.

"Oh, did that piss you off?" I ask her mockingly. "You hate hearing how you fucked up, huh? Hate being in the wrong?" I pull her closer, inches from my face. "How the fuck do you think I've felt this entire time? You constantly bring up what I've done, but when it's my turn you want to put your hands on me? Fucking assault me?"

She laughs in my face. "That's rich, coming from you."

I don't reply, no, I'm not feeding into this. She's trying to shift the blame on me once again when she quite literally just tried to slap me, which you may recall her successfully doing so in the past. She's a damn maniac. I can't fucking stand her sometimes. I don't even know why I'm so caught up on her. I think to myself; maybe I'm better off doing what she wants and leaving her the fuck alone. But then I catch myself staring at her lips, and all of my feelings for her come flooding back with full force, reminding me what the end goal is for us.

I loosen my grip on her wrist, but keep her exactly where she's at. "Listen, I'm sorry. I'll be honest, I only acted like a dick so Anna would stop worrying so much about you and I." I stare at her lips as my voice grows gentle and quiet. "She's so convinced that there's something going on between us, and I didn't want her poking around in our business—your business. I didn't want any drama for you, so that's why I acted the way I did."

I shake my head, as if disappointed in myself. "I shouldn't have gone about it the way I did. It was weird—unnecessary and weird. I'm sorry." I give her my signature remorseful look. I don't know if she's buying it, though. Her expression hasn't changed. "I figured if she dug too deep, she'd learn the truth. She'd tell everyone, Hazel," I plead, lifting my gaze to her pretty brown eyes.

Finally, her look softens. "Let go, Alex." She nearly whispers. But her eyes are telling me something different. I slowly lean in, pressing my mouth to hers. She protests at first, refusing to kiss me back, but she eventually gives in.

The kiss quickly deepens with desperation as we moan into each other's mouths, grabbing at each other's bodies. I grab her tit and squeeze it in my hand, letting her gasp into my mouth. She rips my towel from my body, starts rubbing my dick through my boxers. Her hand is wrapped around my dick when the patio light suddenly turns on.