Bedroom Bully by Harper West

30

Rebecca

The flightback to my Cali home was a blur. But the second I stepped off the plane I found myself in the airport liquor store. Everything was way overpriced, but I didn’t care. I grabbed a bottle of top-shelf tequila, a run-of-the-mill mixer, and a bottle of wine, then started toward the exit doors. I flagged down a cab and tossed everything into the backseat while I shot a message to JoJo.

And as I sat in the back of the cab with the meter running outside the airport, I waited for his response.

Me: What is your address?

He read it almost instantly, but it took him a while to respond. The cab driver started getting short with me, so I rattled off my address in hopes of buying myself some time. Those three little dots finally started dancing around, though they stopped and started a handful of times.

Then, his message popped up with his address.

“On second thought, can you take me here?” I asked.

I showed the cab driver the address and he nodded. I laid back against the stained seats and heaved a heavy sigh, wondering what all of this meant for my family. It was clear to me that my parents had rallied around Maggie’s version of the story, which meant that JoJo had been the one experiencing most of the backlash that came from all of this bullshit. Maybe JoJo’s father wasn’t keeping Maggie under his thumb anyway. Maybe that’s why JoJo was so upset: because he felt that he was the only one paying for sins he didn’t even commit.

And as the cab driver dropped me off in front of an all-black, reflective window condo complex, it didn’t shock me that I had to take a private elevator all the way to the top to get to JoJo’s home.

“What?” he asked as the elevator doors opened.

I held up the stuff I purchased. “Drink time.”

His hand slammed against the elevator doors trying to close as his eyes raked down my body. “If we’re seen together like this, we could both lose our jobs.”

I shrugged. “Since when have you never taken risks for women you’ve loved?”

His face fell flat. “That was a low blow.”

I slipped into his penthouse. “Nice digs.”

The elevator doors closed as he turned around. “Did you expect anything else?”

I tossed my bag onto his pristine white couch. “Tequila or wine?”

He slid his hand into his sweatpants pockets. “Why are you here?”

I pulled out the tequila. “Shots, it is.”

“I’m serious, Rebecca. Why are you here?”

I popped the bottle open. “Because I’m tired of the lies, and the deceit, and the tiptoeing, and the lunacy. I’m tired of not sleeping, I’m tired of your bullshit, and I’m tired of this world. So, we’re going to get drunk, we’re going to throw caution to the wind, and then I’m going to ask you a question that I hope you’ll finally answer honestly.”

He blinked. “You’re seriously trying to get me drunk so I admit that I have feelings for you?”

I gazed into his eyes. “I know that if we can untangle every confusing thought and feeling you have whenever you look at me and see Mags, that we could really make an honest go of this. I know you have feelings, and you know I do in return. What we have is more than sexual, and I think you knew that when we were teenagers but were too scared to approach me because you didn’t want to rope me into the shit my sister roped you into. And I get that. Even then, you were trying to protect me, and I’ll always care about you for that. But, if you continue to lie to me, you’ll be no different than my family, who’s practically disowned me at this point.”

He tilted his head. “They what?”

I tipped the tequila bottle up to my face and took a long pull before I grimaced. I walked over and shoved the bottle against his chest, my eyes never once leaving his. Then, I stood on my tiptoes and did the one thing I’d been wanting to do ever since he admitted everything to me.

I pressed my lips to his and relished the warmth of his kiss.

“Now, take a swig and catch up,” I said as I handed him the bottle, “we have much to discuss.”