- FIVE MONTHS LATER -
I walk around the empty space, the one that used to be a barber shop, inspecting it thoroughly. It's nicer than the online ad had made it out to be. The floor is already like my shop back in Vegas, I could see myself easily transitioning back and forth between locations. Maybe I'd relocate entirely, who knows.
I had the money to invest in a new place, expand my business. I even had the name for the shop if I decided to buy it too— Love Me Tatted. A play on an Elvis song was appropriate for Nashville, or as I've been told it's referred to, NashVegas.
I'd made up my mind before I came here though, regardless. I was going to open up a shop even though I told Vikki I was just scoping it out. She wasn't too keen on me going to a place that would remind me of a certain someone but I didn't care. I wanted a reminder because I want to finally get over her.
It's been five full months with no contact, none, not that she could contact me unless she got a new phone, but still. She was doing her thing, whatever that may be and with whoever, and I've been doing mine. If she had really wanted to get in touch with me she knew where to find me— she didn't.
The first time I slept with another woman, three months after shit went down with Monica, my heart had hurt in the worst of ways, I felt like I was betraying it and myself. But the more I lost myself in sexual gratification the more the blow softened. It was bit by bit, gradual, until it was just a dull ache to be with another woman.
Amanda and I had an understanding, she knew where my head and heart were, she provided me with sex regardless. It wasn't the same as when I was with Monica. The sensations are entirely different but I learned to shut that part of myself off and just let myself enjoy the physical aspect.
Getting my cock sucked was just that— getting my cock sucked. Nothing more. Nothing less. No feelings or misconstrued notions of what we mean to each other. Amanda and I are friends that fuck. That's it.
There were no firsts or elephants in the room when I was with Amanda. She's no shy girl needing to be coaxed out of her shell. Amanda is sex positive and noncommittal. Just like Vikki had said, she's perfect for me, just what I need to keep my mind off Monica.
"Is everything to your liking Mr. Rearick? If not I have another property across the city that we could check out as well."
"Does it have the same flooring?"
"No, it's wood."
"Same size?"
"Smaller."
"Nah, not interested. I'll take this."
✩✩✩
I'd spent the last month immersing myself in putting together the parlor. I'd done all the work with Amanda helping pick out things for the design. I kept the same neon, fifties vibe I had at my other shop, especially since the name of the shop and time period aligned. It just made sense.
"Hey, what do you think about these robin egg blue tables?" Amanda twists the laptop around so I can see the screen. "I like how bright they are. I was thinking we could stencil that design you're always sketching on them. It's really pretty."
"Yeah, I don't know about that one, that's got a personal meaning behind it." Amanda is referring to the design that is Monica's tattoo. I often aimlessly doodle versions of it without really thinking about it. "Yeah, not sure I want different people laying on it while getting their asses tattooed or their dick's pierced."
She lets out a laugh, "yeah, you make a valid point. I was thinking about the shop logo." She taps her fingernails on the desk. "I was thinking it should be a realistic looking heart."
"Is that supposed to be a bad joke?" Since she knows mine is faulty as fuck in more ways than one.
"No, I'm serious. Love Me Tatted. So like a mixture of love, tats, and Elvis. I don't know, I've just been thinking of ideas for an appropriate logo."
I ponder that for a moment. "I think I know the perfect thing." I snatch my sketch book and sit in the last old barber chair.
"I know that look, you're going to be at it for hours."
I don't even look up at her as I answer, "You know it."
"Alright, I'm going back to the hotel then. I'm beat. See you later?" She sounds hopeful but I shake my head. "Well, I'm sure I'll be up for it if you are." She wants to have sex but being back in Nashville made me think of Monica, which therefore killed my libido.
"Probably not but I'll keep that in mind." She nods and then heads out. When she opens the door a whimsical, familiar, laugh flows into the shop. I stand up from the chair and toss my sketchbook on it.
That can't be right. She can't be here.
But when I open the door I hear the sound again. There's no mistaking that sound. That's Monica. As if the noise had a physical tether on me, it pulls me toward it.
"You can't be serious." An unfamiliar male voice said with incredulousness. "You're taking next semester off?"
"Yeah, I think I'm going to try my hand at getting a book published. You're the one who told me I should do it." Shes standing outside a restaurant with a man who looks familiar but I can't quite pinpoint exactly where I know him from.
"Well, yeah, I think you're incredibly talented and gifted. Your writing is immersive and creative. I loved the piece you were writing last month. But where would you go if you took time off? Would you stay in Virginia?"
She shrugs, "I don't know. Maybe move back home? Maybe move here? I love it here."
"You sure about that? You've been melancholic the whole time we've been here." She doesn't say anything just looks up at the stars. "See anything interesting up there?"
"Yeah, Cassiopeia." She points up, much like I had once done. "Aries."
"I didn't know you were into astrology."
"I'm not."
"Why don't you come abroad with me again next semester?" That's where I know the guy from. He's her teacher. Professor McFuckMe. But he appears to be something else entirely now, especially since they're here alone together. This is clearly no class outing.
"I don't know, Derek." She shifts from side to side, looking a bit uneasy. "That might be a bit inappropriate considering what happened when we were abroad last semester. You could've lost your job." What the fuck happened when they were abroad? Thoughts of them sleeping together play throughout my mind and I hate it.
"You could come as a teacher's assistant, not a student. You'd have more freedom, more liberty. I could see if I could pull a few strings." He reaches forward and grabs ahold of her hand. "It wouldn't matter what our relationship is that way either."
She says something to him but a car drives by, obscuring my hearing. The car parks in front of them and he opens the door for her then climbs in behind her. I watch them drive away before turning back to go to the shop.
Instead of sketching, like I thought I would, I lock up and head back to the hotel. The drive back is tedious because my thoughts are littered with Monica and the conversation she'd had with her professor. It drives me mad thinking about what the two of them may or may not have done while she was abroad.
Did he touch her like I touched her? What do you care? You blocked her from your life. Because I was hurt and not thinking, not because I stopped loving her. You have sex with Amanda. Why do you care if she's had sex with someone else? Because it's Monica. Sex means more than sex to her. How do you know? You haven't talked to her in months?
"Fuck." I hit the steering wheel as I park. With a heavy head, and an even heavier heart, I make my way inside to the bar. My feet stop moving the minute I spot the professor at the bar, nursing what looks like a whiskey.
Of all the fucking hotels and of all the fucking bars... you've got to be fucking kidding me.
I make my feet move again and decide to sit a couple seats down from him. The bartender comes round and I order myself a whiskey neat, his drink.
"A fellow whiskey connoisseur, I see." He tilts his glass to me before taking a sip.
"Indeed." I grab the glass that's handed to me before taking a hearty swig.
"Derek." He puts his hand out and I shake it, even though I don't really want to. That hand may have touched Monica in ways I really don't want to fathom.
"Aaron." I don't want to take the chance that Monica told him my name. Boston isn't common enough, especially combined with my appearance.
"Rough night, Aaron?"
"You could say that." I point to his glass. "You?"
"Not necessarily. More confusing than anything." What does that even mean. Probably had something to do with the fact that he's here and not upstairs banging my wife.
"Woman problems?"
"That obvious?"
"Just recognize the symptoms is all." Because I'm currently dealing with the same. "What's the issue, if you don't mind me prying. Maybe I could help."
He stares at his glass for a moment before polishing it off then signals for another. Blowing out a deep breath he states, "it's a complicated situation. I was attracted to someone I shouldn't have been then one night I acted on it. Things have been complicated since."
"Like a coworker or a boss?" I asked, even though I knew exactly what Monica was to him.
"Worse. A student. Well, she was a student of mine at the time. What's even worse is afterward she told me she's married. Can you believe that? Nineteen years old and married?"
"Yeah, that's wild." I knock back the rest of my drink and ask for another. "So the two of you had sex and then she told you she was married."
"Oh no, we haven't, uhm, done that yet." Thank fuck for that. "I mean, we did get pretty close," I don't like that, "but then she threw out the fact that she's married."
"What's the husband like?"
"Don't know. Don't care."
Fuck you too, buddy.
"I do know they haven't spoken in nearly half a year though. Not since I found her crying over him. You believe this asshole broke up with her after having phone sex with her?" I choke on my drink at that.
"She told you that?"
"Not exactly. I was going to her room to ask her to have coffee with me and I heard her moaning. Then she said some rather dirty things," yeah she did, "and I just put two and two together."
"So, the two of you, are you like a couple or?"
"That's a good question." He wraps his knuckles on the countertop. "She asked me to come with her this weekend to celebrate her birthday."
That's right tomorrow is her fucking birthday.
"Sounds like you're a couple." And I hate it. "You sharing a room?"
"Nah, got my own. Trying to be gentlemanly and whatnot while she's still in spousal limbo. I don't want to come off too strong, especially since she's still married. Even though I do think she's over the guy or getting close to being over him."
Good to fucking know.
"Why do you say that?"
"I don't know. I think being here reminds her of him. She won't tell me even though I've asked. She just changed the topic. I think she's trying to put him in the past. I'm hoping that's it. I'm hoping to solidify our relationship before we leave. I want to be with her, married or not. She's so smart, has such a beautiful mind." He lets out a heavy sigh. "She should've waited until she experienced more of life before tying herself to some loser who can't give her the future she wanted."
Right for my nuts, then.
"What about you, Aaron? Enough talk about me." I debate just getting up and leaving but fuck it.
"Opening up a shop in town. It's super stressful and Nashville holds a lot of sentimental memories for me, fucks with my libido. My fuck buddy wanted to go at it tonight but I don't think I'd get hard even if I wanted to." Which I don't want to, at least not with Amanda.
"Why is she just a fuck buddy, not a girlfriend?"
"Still hung up on the woman I love." The woman you're trying to get to fall in love with you.
"Well, I guess we should cheers to moving on, then."
"Guess so." I lift my glass and knock it back.
A/N:
Happy Friday!
What do you all think about Boston and the professor's chat?