In the Mix (16 page)

“He’s not my boyfriend!” she yells after me. Yeah right! I don’t know why she’s so afraid to commit to him. He’s a great guy, treats her well, makes her laugh, and is as patient as a nun with her. Did I mention that he’s fucking hot-as-hell? I mean,
what is wrong with her?!

“What kind of mood is she in tonight, Ceese?” Blake asks as he gives me a hug.

“I don’t know. It’s kind of been about me tonight, narcissist that I am.”

“You’re no bloody help, lady,” he teases me before giving Julie his attention. “Julie, you look revolting tonight. Honestly, I can’t even bear to look at you. I don’t think I can put you up on the stage tonight. I’m trying to bring customers in, not send them away, for Christ’s sake.” He throws his hand up. I’m standing here like all. . . .
huh?
He leans into my ear again when he sees my confusion. “Hot off the press this week, Ceese! I’m not allowed to compliment her anymore.” He straightens up and rolls his eyes.

“Are you still getting booty calls?”

“Of course!” He jerks his head back like I asked a crazy question.

“Julie!” I grab her attention then lean in. “Blake really hates pounding you in the ass.”

“The way you girls talk to each other never gets old to me,” he laughs. “Yes, Julie, for Christ’s sake, please stop asking me to do that to you.”

“Only if you stop making me shove my dildo up yours!” she retorts sarcastically then pushes past him, knocking his shoulder with hers as she does.

“Bloody hell . . .” he trails off then lets out a sigh. “I can’t win with her.” He shakes his head. “Go on up there, will ya? What are you girls going to sing?”

“’5 Years Time’ by Noah and the Whale. We were having a nice
I love you, man
moment before. That song is perfect for it.” I pat his shoulder. Poor guy. I don’t know why he hangs in there.

In case you weren’t aware, Mick & Marley’s pub is our local hang out. Blake’s grandfather started it. He passed it down to Blake when his son declined. No surprise there, Blake’s father is too much of a stiff collar to appreciate the crowd here. Blake has always loved this place. He not only runs it but he’s the one who ran it out of the ground when he started featuring local bands. Of course, he’s in one of those local bands featured. He plays the drums and he’s pretty damn good at it! He also plays Julie’s main fuck buddy. I don’t blame her—I’d fuck him. Except, I can’t think of being with anybody really, not since I met Kyle. Blake is a great guy, though and he’s the only one she’s ever meshed well with. I wish she would give him an honest chance. He fits right in with us. It’s not easy keeping up with the GEGs, as you can imagine.

Kyle could keep up.
I’m still trying to digest all that has happened in the past twenty-four hours. This party should be interesting. I don’t know what I’m going to say to him. I’m sort of regretting pushing him away today. I’m not sure I am ready for what he brings to the table. It’s something I’m so used to
not
having, how am I supposed to learn how to be comfortable with having it. I don’t know . . . I’m a fucking mess.

All five of us get on stage. We’ve been doing group performances since we were teenagers but now we just keep it to Karaoke. We’re pretty well known and with good reason—we kick ass on the stage!

Back off? Back off?! Can you believe that? No, I’m not pissed. I’m fucking livid! It’s been five hours since I’ve received that text and it’s all I see, all I can think about. Maybe she is too much for me. I should cut my losses and walk away. Clearly, she wants no part of any sort of legit relationship.

Anger to the side, the more I go back and forth between her up and down behavior the past few weeks, I’m realizing there are two parts to CiCi. There’s the side she shows (boldly, mind you) to everyone and the side (the vulnerable one) she’s been showing me here and there. That’s got to mean something, right?

Maybe her saying “back off” was a positive thing; I struck a chord with her that scared her, perhaps? Pushing the commitment word probably did it. I just . . . Christ, I wish I knew what the fuck happened in her past. I want to understand this better. I need a bone thrown to me, here. I have no idea what I’m dealing with. I hate that shit. I like to be prepared; have all of my I’s dotted and T’s crossed.

“Dude!” Mitch barks behind me. I turn away from the window to face him. He lets out a long sigh, shaking his head. “Do we need to have a ‘don’t be a pussy’ talk?” he asks.

I laugh but I think I may actually need one of those talks. “Yeah, I think so, man.”

“Don’t be a fucking pussy! Call her out on her shit and don’t take any more of it. Time for you to fully get in the driver’s seat, buddy.” He throws his jacket on.

“What happened to the ‘walk away’ speech?”

“Nah. Forget that. She’s got feelings for you. I could see that the other night. Get to the bottom of it with her. You have to figure this shit out. I get the feeling that she really needs you.”

“What do you mean by that?” I ask, panic setting in. Does he know something he’s not telling me?

“It’s just a feeling, Kyle. You know I’d tell you if I knew anything. CiCi has been really off lately. You seem to be the only one getting through to her.” He picks his briefcase up. “C’mon, clock out . . . go home.”

“She told me to back off. I poured my heart out today in a letter and she told me to back off.” I look at him for some sort of explanation, if he has one. I wish somebody had one. I’m not picky—I’ll take any bullshit theory somebody can come up with.

“You’re getting too close,” he offers.

“Too close to what?” I jerk my head back.

“Her heart. See you Monday, man,” he says before turning on his heel to leave.

“It’s only Thursday!” I yell after him.

“I’m spending the day with Charlotte tomorrow . . . to properly grovel—all day.”

“Own that shit, man!” I laugh at him. Fucking shithead deserves it. He turns and shoots me both barrels, fully loaded . . . with
my
signature smirk.
Punk.
I have to laugh. I’m really happy for him. I’m glad he’s found his purpose in life and that it’s not just work. Nobody’s purpose in life should just be work. Yes, one should take pride in what they do but it shouldn’t be their only legacy. You haven’t accomplished anything if you haven’t earned the love and respect of your family, friends, and peers.

I plop into my chair with a heavy sigh. I really don’t know what to do. Honestly, I have never put so much thought and fight into winning over a chick in my life. I think it’s safe to say, though, that CiCi is in a category of her own and that is, most likely, why I have done so. Should it really be this hard? Why does it seem like for everyone else it’s
Poof! They’re the one!
I thought you were supposed to fall out of nowhere; didn’t even see it coming. That sort of thing? This seems like way too much work.

I like work.

I like figuring shit out.

I’m such a dork.

Fuck it. Sitting in this office any longer is not going to give me the answers I need. It’ll just remind me of the things I could be working on. I get up, grabbing my jacket and briefcase. I wish
I could
have the damn day off tomorrow.

“Good Lord, son, you look like hell,” Mom states the obvious.

I push my shades up and glare at her.

“Don’t give me that tone of look! What happened? You weren’t out all night drinking, were you?”

I push my shades back down, ignoring her for the closest seat.

“Kyle! What is wrong with you?” She swats my back when I let my head fall to my arms on the kitchen table.

“I listened to my mother, that’s what’s wrong with me.”

“What on earth are you talking about?” She seats herself to my right.

“I sent her the damn notes!” I lift my head and hand for emphasis.

“What happened?”

“She told me to back off.” I grumble.

“So your answer was to get drunk?” she asks, her tone laced thick with disapproval.

“Nope. I waited a day to do that. Then I did something so awesome I pretty much want to shoot myself for it.”

“Kyle, don’t talk like that!” she snaps. “What did you do?” she asks, softening her tone.

“I drunk-texted her. Ya know, just to make myself seem extra creepy to her. Which, as her texted reply, confirms—I succeeded.” I slowly bang my head on my folded arms. The memory shoots back in my mind like a fucking nightmare.

Play this! This is what you do to me . . .

Patsy Cline—I Fall To Pieces—Single Version

What do you rise to?

I think you know the answer to that.

Jesus . . . you had risen!

I shall rise again . . .

Not with me.

Yes, I will. You are mine.

Kyle, you are creeping me out! Please stop.

What did he do to you?

Who?

The fucking bastard, keeping you from me.

I don’t know what you’re talking about.

I’ll make him pay.

Are you drinking?

What if I am?

Stop the crazy talk and go to bed.

Crazy! Another song by the great Patsy Cline!

Are you home? Where are you? You better not drive!

Will you come and pick me up?

Where are you?

You’d come and get me?

Of course!

You don’t want anything to happen to me?

No.

So you care about me?

Yes, I’m very concerned about you.

Why?

Because you sound about 2 seconds away from flashing your vagina to everyone.

What?

Stop acting like a pussy!

At least I’m not acting like a cunt, like you!

Wow . . . only took you 5 mins to come up with such a big word.

Asshole.

^^^ took me 2 seconds ^^^

I’ll give you extra points, though for use of a comma in an inebriated state.

I’m not in a coma. You are.

Commmmma!

Dumbass.

You breathe but you don’t live.

You’re not living. You’re existing.

You’re running from me because you are afraid of how I make you feel!

Oh, please!

Fuck, you just made my cock twitch!

What?!

All I hear now is you whimpering, “oh, please . . .” the other night

When I had my cock buried so deep in that tight little pussy of yours.

You think my pussy feels tight and little?

No.

I know it is.

And . . .

It felt amazing, wrapped so sweetly around me.

Do you remember how hard you came all over my cock, baby?

Don’t call me baby.

CiCi! Do you remember?!

Yes . . .

I’ve never come like that before.

The hottest part was me watching you, watching my cock slam into you over and over.

I’m a visual fucker. If my pussy’s getting it good, I want to see it.

I gave it to you good?

My pussy is still slightly sore . . .

Wear a dress tomorrow.

Why?