Heads or Tails

Chapter 18

I would instead find myself running buck naked through the streets of Costa Rica with a monkey on my back than surrender to feelings of jealousy over Ben and Stephanie. I am trying to be as mature and poised as possible as I innocently share a slow dance with Steven. Yet Ben has chosen to let Stephanie suggestively dry hump him on the dance floor right in front of me. Who does he think he is?

He keeps eye contact with me as he sways Stephanie from side to side. She looks thrilled in his arms, laughing at everything he says. I watch as she leans forward and whispers in his ear, feeling my face heat.

My mind bends away from remembering how they slept together—fighting the image of their two hot, withering bodies. My body tightens in Steven's arms, and I look down at my feet. I know what Ben is trying to do. He's purposely trying to make me jealous. When he kept me in the dark about what happened between him and Stephanie, someone he slept with shortly before he slept with me – and I had to find out from her – and I don't even know why he's continuing to push my buttons.

I resent flipping that coin.

A memory of Ben and me flashes through my mind. We were fourteen, and Ben wore a wrinkled Nirvana t-shirt while we cruised in his mom's minivan and rocked out to rap music. We had nowhere to go, and nobody else mattered. I silently wish for those moments with Ben again. I wish we were still in that innocent place and time when everything was easy and not complicated, when Ben was nothing more to me than a good friend and a cute jokester with adolescent acne.

"Can I cut in?"

I see Ben standing behind Steven, eyes dark and jaw tight. I gape at him, my stomach plummeting.

Steven hesitates. "You can have the next dance."

Ben doesn't move. He hovers over Steven's shoulder, and I refuse to make eye contact with him.

Seconds later, the song ends. Ben arrogantly laughs, "Looks like your dance is done."

Steven glares at him. "Megan was about to accompany me to the bar to order another drink, right, Megan?"

I feel my breathing stop. A tingling sensation trickles along my spine. Why can't I formulate any words? Why can't I immediately decide to go with Steven instead of Ben?

Finally, I speak. "I could use another drink."

I refuse to look at Ben, not sure what reaction I'll see on his face because he's never had me pick someone over him before. I've always chosen Ben over anything and everyone else. Choosing Steven feels vindictive and wrong, but having him throw Stephanie in my face on the dancefloor deserves some punishment. I will show him something about rubbing something in someone's face.

I follow Steven to the bar. I know purposely hurting Ben with Steven is juvenile and ridiculous, but he's not giving me space. He needs to respect that I am done with him. I am not the one who fucked up. I use this to justify my actions. I am not mean or vindictive. I am just not allowing myself to get sucked in by Ben.

"Two vodka waters, please," Steven says to the bartender. He then faces me with a smile and asks, "So, do you think we could carry this little thing between us back to Chicago?"

I don't know how to respond. But I also don't want to hurt his feelings. He inches his body closer to mine, and his hands slip up my arms. His eyes soften, and he blinks at my mouth, waiting for my response.

Somehow, I managed to say, "Sure."

Even though I think I may swear off men forever.

"Good," he says, relief washing over his expression as he pushes my hair off my face to kiss my cheek. "Because I really like you."