Who Knows When (Joger/Dealor)

Chapter 12

Lights passed overhead as she and I stumbled down the sidewalks that were cast in the dark of the night, speaking in incomprehensible phrases that only we understood and laughing our heads off at everything being said. Only quick glimpses of what I saw made up the rest of the distance from the bar to what I realized when I woke up the next morning was her apartment—the glow of the stoplight turning from red to yellow and then green, the homeless man telling us he'd do anything for a pound, and the couple with their pants and their underwear around their ankles in the alleyway.

I fell against the exterior of her flat and watched in admiration as she struggled to get her key into the lock. She swore under her breath, cursing at herself for making the wait even longer. I smiled at her and reached my hand out, the girl evading my touch by just a second as she finally unlocked the door and slipped inside. I rolled around the threshold and stumbled over the small rug she had at the door, catching myself on the coat rack. My mishap elicited a giggle from the shadows, followed by a pair of hands reaching out and pulling me into the darkness.

My vision didn't adjust quick enough for me to prepare for the pair of lips that crashed into mine, or the fingers that slipped underneath the waistband of my jeans. Had my inhibitions not been lowered or the fire inside of me ignited, there was a good chance I wouldn't have melted into the moment so readily. With the alcohol that coursed through my veins, numbing my brain and causing me to abandon all control over myself, I let my woman of the night drag me into her bedroom and roughly throw me down on her bed, intensifying the inebriated lust that filled the room the entire night.

By the time the morning had rolled in, John and our situation had become a distant memory. The alcohol and the stranger, whose name was still a mystery to me, did their job. I almost didn't remember what sent me into the spiral that landed me in bed next to the dark-haired girl, and I wouldn't have if it wasn't for her alarm clock. The obnoxious beeping popped my eyes wide open, the sound sparking a deep indignation and causing me to drop my hand down onto the device, wrapping my fingers around it and yanking it out from the wall. I relinquished my hold of the clock and groaned, my hand falling back on my forehead as my chest rose and fell from the deep breaths I had taken.

I didn't feel right in this environment, even though it's one I'd been in several times before. The thought of leaving never bothered me like it did this time around. Just get up and leave. It should've been as easy as that, yet for some reason, I found myself plastered to her mattress, weighed down by my concern about facing the guys again—namely John.

A soft moan pulled me out of my thoughts, my attention being brought down to the stranger who repositioned herself closer to me, her limbs pinning me down as if they would keep me next to her. However, I'd become somewhat of a pro at leaving before the girls woke up, no matter how close or far away they were from me.

I slipped out of the bed and began searching the floor for my discarded clothes. Dressed only in my jeans and matching jean jacket, with my underwear tucked into my back pocket and my t-shirt still nowhere to be found, I heaved a defeated sigh and prepared to leave with what I had. Before I could get far, a soft "Leaving already?" stopped me dead in my tracks. I closed my eyes in disdain and slowly reopened them, looking back at the stranger whose bare body was hidden beneath the blankets draped over her.

"Band practice," I told her, flashing her an apologetic smile. "I would love to stay, hon, but—"

"Oh, spare me the script," she replied with a playful roll of her eyes, "You don't need to act like I mean something to you. I've played this game with guys like you before. Forget about me and go home to your girl; tell her that you love her even though you don't mean it."

My eyebrows furrowed at her comment—your girl—as I watched her sit up and roll over, pulling open the nightstand drawer and sifting through its contents before finding a cigarette. She glanced back over her shoulder at me, matching my baffled expression. "What are you still doing there?"

"I-I don't know," I stammered nervously. What was I still doing there?

"Well...bugger off," she murmured sassily, lazily waving her hand at me as she tucked the white stick between her lips and reached back into the drawer, presumably looking for something to light it. "You know where to find me for next time," she told me, her voice strained as she struggled to keep the cigarette pinned in place and grew anxious the longer she went without it being lit.

I approached the bed and held out the lighter I had in my pocket, attracting her attention. She leaned forward as I sparked a flame atop the handheld tool, saying, "But I never caught your name."

The dark-haired girl inhaled deeply, plucking the cigarette from her lips and expelling a cloud of smoke through the space between them. "Dominique," she replied provocatively.

The corners of my lip perked up into a small grin as I pocketed the lighter. "Roger."

"Well, Roger, I hope we meet again someday." She took another drag, holding this one a little longer than the first, and smiled. I felt the warmth grew in my cheeks as I turned away and left the room, stopping right as I wrapped my hand around the aged brass doorknob when Dominique's voice emanated from the bedroom, "Tell your girl I said hello!"

Your girl.

I didn't have a girl. In fact, I hadn't had one in a while. Of course, she didn't know that. She was merely used to the stereotype of "guys like me," the ones who sneak around behind their girlfriends' or wives' backs, seeking pleasure elsewhere because it's ceased to exist at home. I was different though. That pleasure was still very much alive for me, but instead of it coming from a woman, it came from a man—John.

"I-I will," I called back, smirking at the thought of going back to the flat and telling John about my previous night, ending the grand story with the revelation that I didn't want to keep living this lie.

I wanted him, and I was going to be with him if it's the last thing I did.