Xander
“So let me get this straight…you actually left money on this man’s nightstand??”
I never cease to amaze Cassie. Or is that disgust? It seems like disgust but I’ll give her the benefit of the doubt. After 25 years of friendship she should be used to my shenanigans. The scowl on her face says otherwise.
“He told me to,” I defend.
“He also told you stay the night but I’m betting you woke up in your bed this morning, didn’t you?” Cassie beams with pride at her quick and somewhat clever response.
“He asked me to stay the night. He told me to leave the money on the nightstand. See the difference? One is a question, the other is a command and you know how much I love doing what I’m told.”
“Bullshit! What I know, what we both know, is how much you love being a complete asshole. Which is fine, that’s your thing but…let me ask you this.”
“Here we go,” I roll my eyes in preparation for my scolding.
No question beginning with those five words has ever, in the history of the world, been a good question. No one has ever said “let me ask you this…can I give you a skillion dollars?” Those five words are nothing more than a request to make you look and ultimately feel like a jackass. I close my eyes and nod for Cassie to continue.
“Don’t be dramatic, you’ve brought this on yourself.”
I open my eyes wide enough to narrow them at her.
“Honey,” Cassie calling me honey is also indication I am going to walk away from this conversation looking like the spawn of Satan, “if you’re so disinterested in Vincent why do you keep seeing him? There are plenty of guys out there who would be willing to whore it up with a pretty girl like you and not become emotionally attached.”
They always become emotionally attached. What can I say, I’m stalking material. I’m kind of hot. I say kind of only to give off an air of humility. I’m phenomenal in bed and I have absolutely no emotional need for the opposite sex. It’s a combination that drives a sane man nuts. Cassie knows this. She has witnessed a stalking or two.
“Have I not told you how fantastical the sex is? Ohhh….I get it, Cass. Just say you didn’t get your porn fix. You don’t have to hit me with the ‘let me ask you this’ to hear about our night last night. Ok, so…”
“Xander, I’m serious,” Cassie interrupts.
“I never said I was disinterested. But doesn’t it seem silly that the only way to prove my interest in him is to sleep at his place? Where’s the fire? I remember a time when people were rewarded for taking things slowly.”
“I’m not saying that’s the only way to prove your interest. You can prove it anyway you want to. But this is the first time you’ve ever expressed any type of feeling for him and it’s been six months. I know every blush inducing detail of your sex life; every position, point of entry. Do you know how dirty I feel after some of your stories? But not once have I, your very best friend, your confidant, been given any indication of you harboring a single positive emotion for this man.”
I grunt in agreement.
“All I’m saying is if I don’t know, and I know things that make me feel bad for listening to my mother with the same ears I have used to listen to you, he probably doesn’t know either. So if you’re not disinterested in him, you should do some things to make him aware of that. None of which include leaving money on his nightstand!”
I smile at my cleverness.
“Only a sick and twisted individual would find that behavior amusing,” she snaps as she flings a balled up napkin in my direction.
I wipe the smile from my face.
I replay our conversation the entire ride home. Clearly, Cassie missed out on every bread crumb I had left her regarding my feelings for Vincent. She didn’t even pick up on the fact that she knows his real name. He isn’t “dude” or “the one guy who…” I actually refer to him by the name his parent’s gave him. Not only that, we’re monogamous! Hello?!?!
That’s as close as I’ll ever be to marriage.
I’m more than a little hurt she can’t see through me but I know it’s my fault. I’ve intentionally kept crucial information from her because she will tell me exactly what I don’t want to hear; I like Vincent. Cassie is right, asshole is what I do, it’s my thing. Love is not my thing; it never has been. If I tell her my secrets that makes them true and I’m just not ready for them to be true. I’m not ready for any of this shit to be perfectly honest. I’ve spent the last six months fighting what I’ve known since day one; Vincent is the only exception to any rule I have about love.
I believe in love. I just don’t believe it has any stamina. It’s all hand holding and sex marathons in the beginning but then what? What happens when that desperate need to be together becomes one-sided? You can’t force the other person to want you more and you can’t force yourself to want them less. Now everybody’s screwed and not in my preferred fashion.
No thank you. I prefer to remain in control and love does not allow it. No one, no matter how incredibly charming and patient and gorgeous and hung he may be, is worth giving up control. The consequences are too severe, right? Yet, here I am toying with the idea of giving it a shot. What is it about Vincent that has me bags packed and on my way to believing we might have some staying power. More importantly, how the hell do I make it stop?
So...WTF is a literary cover??
I am not musically inclined. I can't sing. I don't play any instruments. I just love songs. Certain songs stir something in me, something that requires expression. I can't sing but can write. My pen does what my voice cannot, cover a song and do it justice - hence, Literary Cover.
Eternity's Ending is a literary covers novella inspired by music from artists such as Algebra Blessett, Brad Paisley, Taylor Swift, the Civil wars, Sia, Beyoncé and more...
Read the first two chapters here: https://steemit.com/writing/@rochellegermany/original-story-eternity-s-ending-our-version-of-events-a-literary-covers-novella-by-rochelle-germany-chapters-1-and-2
Grab your copy - http://bit.ly/EEB1IG