C11 - Hangover

ROY

I try to focus on the sidewalks on both sides of me as I drive. But it’s not that easy when I can’t stop worrying about exactly what to say to Lanie. I’m the one who said we needed a break from one another this time. Even if it was only a desperate attempt to call her bluff. I’d run out of other ideas. I was desperate. An ‘ultimatum’ felt like my only hope.

I prayed that what I said would bring her to her senses about me and her. Make her see clearly that with an apartment of our own, she could escape from living with her Mom and that asshole from next door who’s virtually moved in with them.

I slow the car some more and check the sidewalk left and right again up ahead. Still no sign of Lanie. How long do people take at nail salons? According to what Rachel told me at Joe’s gig last night, her sister’s appointment was at 10. Surely she should be finished and walking back by now?

But perhaps she did take a cab. Even though the weather is OK and it’s not that far for her to walk back home.

Oh, hell. I probably should have called her to say I was coming. Or just waited outside her house for her to get back instead. But I want to surprise her. And I didn’t want to risk her telling me not to come.

My stomach drops again.

What if she’s enjoyed being on her own the last few days? If my absence had the opposite effect to what I wanted. What if it’s made her appreciate her independence? If she’s enjoying the feeling of having ‘no ties’.

I stop at the junction before my left turn to the strip of shops where the nail bar is. If I don’t see her on the street then I’ll go straight back to hers. I’ll talk to her there.

I should have stuck with my original plan. Waited until after her best friend McKenzie had gone away on that cruise. Until maybe she’d been gone a week or two. I should have given my girl more of a chance to ‘miss’ me before I tried again. But I just couldn’t do it. I missed her too much and every passing day only made me sicker with panic that she might get used to being without me.

I wish I wasn’t so weak where she’s concerned.   

The pink letters of the ‘Beautify’ nail bar appear above a shop door on my right. A few meters further on I pull the car in at the next available space, and then ready to turn around.

But I’ve got an idea.

Maybe I should check inside the salon before I go to hers. They might be running late and she could still be in there. Or maybe she canceled. If that’s the case then maybe she stayed somewhere else last night and she’s still in bed. In someone else’s bed.

My stomach is queasy like there’s oil inside it.

I should never have said what I said. Joe was right all along when I asked for his advice. And then I ignored it. It was too soon after her Dad died to expect her to commit to anything.

I switch the engine off and peer up at the shop as the front door opens and someone comes out.

Two young girls, but neither of them is mine.

I should have just given Lanie the space to get her head together.

I open the car door and get out with my desperation mounting. I only hope to God I haven’t ruined everything.

A bell rings as I push the salon door open and then inside it’s warm and soft music plays. Away to my right is a row of high-backed, raised chairs. Women are sat on several of them with bare lower legs and uniformed staff members at their feet doing their toenails.

“Roy?” Lanie frowns and she’s standing on my left near a till. She takes a receipt from another woman in a uniform and thanks her, then turns back to me red-faced. “What are you doing here?” she whispers and she’s in her loose gray hoodie and no makeup. She’s got her hair in a ponytail which always makes her look bossy.

I follow the turquoise leggings and perfect, round backside toward the exit.

“Bye, thank you,” the woman at the till calls after us in broken English, and Lanie waves at her.

“I needed to see you,” I say when we’re outside on the sidewalk.

“At the nail bar?” Lanie frowns again. “And how did you know I was there?”

“Rachel last night,” I shrug, “I went to the gig Joe’s band was playing. I needed to talk to her and Joe.”

Lanie sighs and starts walking along the sidewalk.

“Lanie, can’t we go for a coffee somewhere and talk?”

“I thought you needed space,” she says and keeps moving.

“I was wrong,” I say and catch her up, “I was being stupid. I’ve been wrong about a lot of things.”

“Hmm,” she says.

“Look, Lane, let’s go get a coffee somewhere. So we can talk.”

“What is there to say?” she crosses her arms as a wagon trundles by on the street.

“Please, Lane?”

“Roy, I’m tired. I had a heavy night. I just want to get home and put my feet up.”

“Then I’ll drive you. The car’s only there.

“There’s no need,” Lanie shakes her ponytail, “I’ll walk. The fresh air will help clear my head.”

“So come with me in the car and you can open the window. Please, Lanie. We need to talk.”

Lanie sighs but she stops at my car with me and I open her door for her.

“Look, I’m sorry for the way I behaved at mine the other night,” I say and I pull the car away from the curb, “I’m, sorry about everything I said to you.”

“But it’s happening all the time now Roy,” Lanie says softly and she peers out of her window, “One of us starts a row and then we don’t speak for days. It’s draining.”

“I know,” I nod and look away from her and back to the road, “But it’s down to me. I was putting pressure on you. You know, first to get married, and then the apartment. But I know now you’re not ready for any of that. I get it. I promise.”

I glance back at her. Surely she understands and accepts what I’m trying to tell her? But her face has flushed again and she’s still gazing out of the window.

In my wildest dreams, before I came to see her today, I imagined she might break down when she saw me. That she might have missed me so much and been so pleased to see me, that she’d fling her arms around me. It’s not happening.

But I’ve still got my ace to play. Still have the proof that I mean every word I say.

That can wait though. Until we get to hers.

“I never told you this,” I say and now those gorgeous gray-blue eyes do gaze over at me. “Originally, when I was thinking of asking you to marry me, I went to ask Joe’s advice.”

“Joe?” Lanie’s eyebrows rise.

“Yeah, I mean he convinced your Rachel to marry him, didn’t it?  And I don’t have any other married friends I could have asked. I didn’t want to rely on what I read online about proposing to a girl.”

“Well, I doubt Joe is the right person to ask about marriage,” Lanie says almost under her breath.

“Why do you say that?” I glance across at her.

“Oh, nothing,” she shakes her head.

“Anyway, when I asked him for advice, he warned me not to do it.”

“He did?” her face darkens.

“He said it was too soon. You know, after your dad and everything.”

“Right,” she says and gazes back out of her window.

“Anyway, he was right. I can see that now. I should never have asked you when I did. And I should never have acted up when you said ‘no’.”

“Roy, please, I don’t want to talk about getting married,” she shakes her head.

“And I’m not doing that,” I say, “I promise. I’m just trying to explain the way I’ve behaved lately. To apologize for it.”

“OK,” she says as I pull up at her house. “Well, thanks for the lift and I appreciate the apology. But I need to get some breakfast down me or I’ll likely throw up. I’ll call you, Roy,” she reaches for her door.

“Wait, Lane,” I reach for her shoulder. “Can’t I come in? Rachel said your Mom’s away until tonight.”

“I wish Rachel would keep her nose out of my business,” Lanie sighs, “Yes, Mom is away. But that’s not stopped her from hounding me with messages all morning. Which I’m ignoring. I want to make the most of the peace and quiet before she brings that man back here again with her. I need to eat, and curl up on the sofa.”

“Let me make your breakfast. I’ll bring it to you while you relax.”

“Roy, no,” Lanie groans.

Why doesn’t she want me with her?  Has she realized she’d be better off alone? What if she’s decided to go back to uni again after all? To move halfway across the country without me?

Panic gushes through me like a flood.

“Please, Lane?” I look right into her eyes, “I’ve got something to show you.”

“Not another apartment,” she says and again won’t meet my eyes.

“No,” nothing like that.”

“Well, you can’t stay long. I’m tired. I need to go back to sleep.”

“And you can. As soon as I’ve made you your breakfast.”

“Can I just nip to your bathroom first?” I ask Lanie as soon as we’re in through the door. Now I know that she was at the nail appointment, that means she must have come back here after being out last night. Just like Rachel said she probably would do. But I want to make sure Lanie was alone here.

“I’ll put the kettle on,” she says but again she seems to avoid eye contact.

“You go and sit down,” I kiss the side of her face, “I’ll make you a drink when I come back to start on your breakfast.” There’s a trace of her usual perfume, but another scent too. One I don’t recognize.

She didn’t shower this morning?

I make my way up her stairs, wondering whether she overslept, but also mindful that right now her body will be in that ‘less than fresh’ condition. I love it that way, especially - for some strange reason - after she’s been on a night out.

On the landing, I divert to her room first.

Her normally spotless bedroom is pretty shambolic. And there’s a smell that isn’t her. That I don’t recognize at all. My stomach drops again but with that, the strangest sense of sickening excitement too.

Her bed isn’t properly made. It looks like the covers just got thrown back over it when she left it. One of her black dresses lays in a crumpled heap on the floor. I peer back over my shoulder at the door, and then with my heart pounding, I pull back the duvet on her bed. I scan the pale purple top sheet for stains to signify some other man might have been here. My balls shiver again but I feel genuinely sick.

What am I thinking? Isn’t this exactly the sort of obsessive behavior which pisses her off so much?

I drag the duvet back over her bed and leave her room.

A few minutes later I find Lanie in the kitchen nursing a coffee and her head. There’s another steaming mug on the other side of the kitchen table.

“I told you I’d make the drinks,” I say and smile at her.

“I can manage by myself Roy,” she says and still won’t look at me properly.

“But I love doing things for you. What do you want to eat?”

“A smoothie with at least two bananas,” she groans.

“Oats too?”

Lanie nods her head and then groans.

“So apart from the hangover, did you and McKenzie have a good night?” I don’t want to probe her, but I do need to know.

“It was OK,” she shrugs.

Now, her lack of enthusiasm pleases me. And I won’t be sad to see the back of her best friend for a few months. I’m certain McKenzie was a bad influence.

I peel two of Sophie’s bananas, break each into three pieces, and put them in the tall jug with the oats, almond milk, and leafy greens from an opened bag in the fridge. I glance back at Lanie at the table and she looks deep in thought. I check the freezer and then add fistfuls of both frozen strawberries and blackcurrants, then a chunk of frozen ginger, and twist the lid on the jug. I switch the power on and then as the blender drones, the jug contents swirl around.

“I’m going to tidy my room,” Lanie yells above the sound and she grimaces, “I can’t stand the noise.”

For a second, as I hold the jug in place on the motor and watch her butt disappear into the hall in those turquoise leggings, I wonder whether Lanie’s making her room look nice because she wants me to take her to bed.

But then as I switch the motor off again and twist a lid onto the jug so she can drink straight from it, the doubts circle my head again.

What if there was some evidence of her infidelity up there and I missed it? If she knows it’s there, though. Maybe some guy’s belongings are somewhere in her room.

I take her drink with me and head up the stairs after her.

“Roy, I’ll come down for it when I’m ready,” she frowns at me as I stand in the doorway to her room. She’s stripping the bed covers off.

“Why are you doing that?” I gesture at the bed with my eyes and suddenly, swallowing feels difficult.

“It needs changing,” she shrugs but her face flushes again. She looks away and drags her pillowcases off. She gathers all the removed bedding together in both hands and takes them past me toward the bathroom, where her mom keeps the big, linen basket.

I follow her and I want to ask her if there’s ‘Anything I should know’. Anything about what might have happened last night. She’d hate me for the question though.

And I know that the worst possible response from her would be too much to bear.

“Let’s go downstairs,” she says on the landing again and she takes her drink from my hand, “I can’t be bothered putting fresh sheets on the bed yet.”

So much for wanting me to take her to bed.

In the living room, the curtains are still closed from last night. Lanie asks me to leave them as they are and she turns the wall-mounted TV on. Then she lays back on the sofa with the smoothie I made her.

I guess she was telling the truth about being tired.

I collect my coffee from the kitchen and squeeze down next to her on the sofa. I gaze at her while she flicks at the channels with the remote.

“So, while we were apart,” I say and clear my throat, “I was wondering about some sort of counseling.”

“Counseling?” Lanie stops sucking on her drink and looks away from an episode of ‘Love is Blind’ or whatever reality dross it is. Her eyes settle on me.

“Yeah,” I nod, and somehow now that I’m telling her, the idea sounds a whole lot less sensible.

“What sort of counseling?”

“I was thinking advice about ‘grief’,” I shrug. At least to start with. And then maybe some form of couples guidance, if they do that too. “You know,” I say, “to help you deal with losing your Dad.”

“So all our problems are down to me?” she says and tosses the remote on the floor.

“Lanie, that’s not what I’m saying.” I caress her arm.

“It sure sounds like it.”

“I just thought it might help you…you know…”

“What?”

“I don’t know,” I look away from her, struggling how to explain, “You said you needed to get your head straight.”

Lanie sighs. But an idea comes to me.

“I’d be happy to take some sort of counseling too though,” I say, “Something to make sure I don’t put pressure on you about our relationship again.”

“Roy, you don’t have to do that.”

“But I would,” I say and take her free hand, “I’d do anything for you.”

“Roy, you’re doing it again,” she shakes her head.

“Right, yeah, I’m sorry,” I squeeze her hand but I don’t let it go. “I’m just saying, I’d do whatever it takes.”

“I know you would,” she says and her eyes fill up.

“Hey Lane,” I squeeze her to me, “Don’t cry, baby. I love you so much.”

“I know that,” she sniffles, “But I honestly don’t deserve it.”

“Yes, you do,” I squeeze her and then kiss her lips. “Have a think about the counseling though, eh? And another thing I was thinking about, is that you and I should have a joint hobby.”

“Oh Roy,” she sighs, and this time so deeply. She looks at me with big sad eyes.

“I mean it,” I say and she’s making me almost tear up now, “When we were at college we had that in common didn’t we? Business studies and everything,” I ease my phone from my back pocket. “I booked this for us,” I say and scroll to the screenshots I downloaded, “say you’ll come, Lane.”

Lanie peers at the image I show her.

“What is it?”

“A log cabin, like you always said you wanted to stay in.”

“I don’t understand. What’s that got to do with a hobby? Roy, don’t make me think too hard. My head hurts.”

“It’s a log cabin in the mountains,” I swipe to another of the images, “An Airbnb. With a jacuzzi on the terrace. I got a good deal on it. I’ve booked it for two nights for me and you. And it’s got a PS5 console in it. You’ve always wanted to try gaming properly, haven’t you? So if you like it, I’ll get you a PS5 of your own for Christmas. We can take up playing it together.”

“Roy you don’t even like gaming,” she says but she smiles at me and now she doesn’t look like she’s going to cry.

“I’ll learn to,” I shrug, “For you. I’ve booked this Monday and Tuesday off work, so if you’re up for the cabin then we go tomorrow.”

“Roy you shouldn’t have,” she says and looks down at her drink.

Is that a ‘Guilty’ look? ‘Embarrassed’? Or what?

“Anyway, how did you know I wouldn’t have something arranged for Monday or Tuesday next week?” she peers up at me again.

“I just hoped,” I shrug. And I checked with Rachel to see if she’d heard whether you might be doing anything.

“Well, I guess it’s not like I’ve got a job to go to at the moment,” Lanie sighs.

“Exactly,” I pull her to me and she lets me kiss her again. She’s going to come with me! “And you’ll still be back in plenty of time to see your precious McKenzie before she goes overseas.”

Lanie flushes again.

I dismiss any concerns about that and her other reactions, and I kiss her neck. My imagination moves ahead to the sex we’ll have together for two undisturbed nights in the mountains.

I’ll show her there exactly how much she means to me.

Her mouth responds to mine and I take the smoothie jug from her hand. Then, without taking my lips from her, I feel my way to placing the jar down on the carpet alongside the sofa.

I want to go down on her. I ease my fingers under the waistband of her leggings at the side and start to work them down.

“Roy you shouldn’t,” she murmurs, but there’s no determination in her voice.

I kiss her some more and her butt rises off the sofa a little, helping me to get her leggings and panties over her hips and then her thighs. I ease two fingers into her pussy and she moans in my neck.

And then her panties and leggings are over her ankles and off. I slide down the sofa and pull her knees up and her legs apart.

“Roy, no!” she clutches at my head and now she sounds urgent.

“Lanie, let me,” I resist and push my face at her shaved pussy, “Mmm, I don’t care if you haven’t showered.”

“Roy,” she groans but she pulls at me too, “It’s not just that..”

Fuck, that’s earthy. Real musky.

But I’m quickly over the initial shock and loving her scent. The dark smell and tangy taste of her. I lick up the whole length of her heavenly slit. From bottom to top. Then top to bottom. I kiss and suck her hard there and her juices are thick. Creamy.

“You…, uhhmm, you can’t do that,” she moans and begins to writhe as I lap at her. She pulls a little at my head as if she’s in some sort of battle of wills within herself.

I keep lapping. I imagine she wants to stop me because she feels guilty. Because she met someone last night and they did something she regrets. God Forbid. Oh, Lane. My dick pulses in my pants.

“We’re home!” Her Mom shouts from the hallway.

“What’s she doing back already?” Lanie gasps and shoves me away from her pussy.

“Hello, hello,” the guy from next door calls out.

I straighten my shirt and Lanie reaches for her leggings and panties from the floor.

“Oh, you’re there,” her Mom appears at the living room door in a short skirt and with an eyebrow raised.

“How come you’re back so soon?” Lanie asks, red-cheeked and flustered and she struggles back into her panties.

“Your Mother wanted to get back and see her favorite daughter, didn’t you Sophie?” The old man from next door appears behind Sophie and he pats her rear end. His eyes though, ringed with dark circles, are wide and rested on my girl as she wriggles her leggings back up.

“I had a text from your baby sister,” Sophie clears her throat, “Her friend’s Mom has to bring her home earlier than originally planned. I wasn’t sure if you’d be here to look after her. You didn’t answer my messages. I thought you might have still been at Kenzie’s.”

“And so here we are,” the neighbor smiles at Lanie and his eyes linger on her.

“My sister’s not even back yet,” Lanie scowls at the pair of them. “Come on Roy,” she grabs my hand, “You can help me pack for the cabin.”

Author's Notes

What sort of relationship do Roy and Lanie have now? Can she keep what she's done with Trevor a secret from her boyfriend? Should she?

Share your thoughts in the comments below.

Next week, Roy has Lanie all to himself for two nights at the cabin. But will the trip be memorable for all the right reasons?

© 2024 Tinto Selvaggio. All rights reserved.

 All characters portrayed in this ebook are consenting adults eighteen years of age or older. As a work of fiction, any similarities to any situations or persons living or dead are entirely coincidental.