Time To Waste

Chapter 15: Bubbles

Chris fidgeted with his long, tattooed fingers, staring at the hockey game on TV and trying to avoid his girlfriend's angry gaze. "You said that you didn't want to know details!" he defended helplessly, not glancing away from the action on the massive flat-screen. His bare feet were perched on the glass coffee-table, and he hadn't moved from this sofa since she left the apartment two hours ago.

Jenna's brown eyes blazed unspoken fury at him. "I meant that I didn't need the dirty specifics of what went where, Christopher," she corrected, annoyed. "How could you not tell me that I fucked Rick? Why did I have to find that out at Monday coffee? What makes you think that I would want to hear that from Rick and not you, huh? Shouldn't my boyfriend have been the one to tell me that he shared me with his best friend?"

He sat up straighter then, letting his feet drop from the tabletop and his hands move to his bare knees. "Babe, you told me that you didn't want to know what happened; you just wanted to move forward. You said that the fact that you didn't remember anything was a sign that you should move on. I honored that! I mean, what the fuck else was I supposed to do? Give you a play by play?"

"Not telling me that I fucked your bandmate is ridiculous, Christopher!" she raged. "He's your best friend, he's my friend! I should have been told that there was another person in bed with us, for fuck's sake. Don't I at least deserve that? Why wouldn't you tell me that? What's worse is that now I wonder what else you didn't tell me!" Her implication weighed heavily in the air between them then.

"I asked your permission," he defended, hands out in a form of surrender and his brown eyes finally leaving the game. "That night. I asked you if I could watch you fuck someone. You asked who, and I told you that I had a friend in mind that I trusted. You said yes. Rick came into the room and spoke with you before anyone touched you! What do you think we are, here? Neither of us would touch you if you didn't say-"

"I KNOW THAT!" she spat with great frustration. "Christopher, I fucking know that! I'm not saying you raped me, for fuck's sake. God. I'm just saying that when I woke up confused and not knowing what happened, why did you omit Rick from the picture? You said that we fucked. That was it. Why didn't you tell me that we had a threesome? Why am I finding this out over a week later?"

He bit his pierced lip and frowned. "I don't know, baby. I thought it would be easier for you the less you heard."

"It's not easier to hear it later on from someone else," she corrected him. Her tone was softening, but she was still annoyed. She began to pace the living room floor, arms crossed over her chest in frustration. "You don't understand that it's not about what happened, so much as the fact that you didn't tell me."

He lowered his head, feeling properly chastised. "I'm sorry, Jenna. It was a rough decision to make, but I thought that I was saving you from more grief by not giving you the gory little details. I thought that was what you wanted, so I gave you the easiest details to digest and then thought we'd move past this."

"Please," she pleaded with sad eyes, "tell me he was the only one?" She took a deep breath, then tossed herself onto the sofa beside her boyfriend. "Please promise me that he was the only one."

Chris nodded, bit back the bile rising in his stomach, and pulled her into a tender embrace before kissing the top of her head. "Of course, baby. I wouldn't share you with the whole fucking band!"