"I know," she said, her voice cracking.
"It's fucked up."
"I know," she said again, leaning forward and resting her forehead in her hands so I couldn't see her face. "I should have told you a long time ago. I know that now, Steven. Believe me, I do. I wish I could take it all back. I've wished I could do that since the night it happened. So did Andrew. This isn't what we wanted. None of it was what we wanted."
"Well, what you wanted doesn't really matter anymore, does it?" I asked bitterly.
Her tear-filled eyes peeked up at me from between her fingers. She shook her head, her dark curls bouncing around her cheeks. "No."
"And to make things worse," I said, heat rising up the back of my neck, "you were only sixteen. Andrew was twenty-two. He took advantage of you. He never should have."
"I know that Steven," Allie said. "I know. But it wasn't like that. It wasn't. I swear. He was good to me. Please believe me. I'm so sorry Steven. I'm so, so sorry."
"Yeah," I said, tossing my napkin over my finished plate of food. "So am I. Excuse me. I need to use the restroom."
I slid out of the booth and headed for the bathroom. It was a small single room with a urinal, toilet, and sink. The Italian Corner was a quaint place, and they only had three restrooms. One was seemingly always out of order.
Before I was able to lock the door behind me, someone pushed it open. I started to tell them it was occupied, but when I turned around, I saw Allie standing there. She pushed the door closed by leaning up against it. Then her hand wandered behind her back, and I heard the lock click into place.
"Allie, what the hell are you doing?" I asked.
"I know you're mad at me," she whispered, stepping away from the door and reaching out to take my shirt in her hands. She tugged upward, pulling it out from the waistband of my pants. "But please, I need you. Fuck me. Right here. It doesn't have to mean anything."
She was looking up at me with those eyes. Her lips were full and parted. One of her knees pressed between my legs, and her hand began to caress my cock over my pants.
"Allie," I breathed, wanting nothing more than to take her right then and there. "This won't make things easier."
"No," she whispered. "It won't. I don't care."
"Fine," I said, and I crushed my mouth against hers.
She ran her fingers through my hair before grabbing hold of my shoulders. She braced herself against me as I undid my pants and let them fall around my ankles. Then I took the hem of her skirt and yanked it up over her ass.
I had been right about the nylons. Holy fuck, she was sexy.
I pushed her backward until she was pressed up against the door. I hooked one arm beneath her knee and forced her leg up. I pinned her there, one leg lifted up against her side and draped over my arm, while I pulled myself free of my boxers. I stroked my cock a couple times before arching my hips toward her.
She clutched at my shoulders tighter and pulled me down to her. She kissed me again, greedily, filling my mouth with her tongue while I filled her pussy with my cock. She moaned into my mouth as I thrust in and out of her.
"Fuck me, Steven," she cooed. "Come on. Fuck me harder."
I did. The door rattled behind her. Neither of us cared. She moaned and writhed until I was bucking against her, burying myself inside the tightness of her wet pussy. My free hand rubbed her clit. Her leg began to shake. I knew I was about to make her come.
We came together. She cried out, and I covered her mouth with my hand. I didn't stop, even after she was dripping with my semen. I continued fucking her like it was therapy. All the anger in me had an outlet. She took it all, clinging to me desperately, as I kept my hand clamped over her mouth and banged her until she couldn't stand on the one leg.
Then, I let her leg fall and grabbed the fabric of her skirt. I used it to turn her around, and then I pushed her shoulders down, forcing her to bend over in front of me. Her ass and her soft little pussy were up in the air for me.
I slid myself into her again. She moaned softly, and her fingers appeared on either side of my cock. She stroked herself and my shaft as I fucked her. I held on to her hips, pulling her up against me with every thrust. My thighs slapped against hers, and I was sure that some of the tables in the restaurant would be able to hear us.
It didn't matter.
This was it. I was making sure I made it count.
I exploded inside her again. She looked back at me over her shoulder. Her cheeks were flushed, and her hair had come half undone.
I pulled out and stepped away. She straightened, watching me like she was watching a predatory animal. I went to the sink and cleaned myself up before putting my pants back on. Then I turned to her.
"I'm going to pay the bill. Then I'm going home. You were right. This didn't mean anything."
She blinked, and a tear rolled down her cheek.
"I could have forgiven you for what you and Andrew did. But I can't forgive the lie. And I can't trust you after all this. Tonight gave me clarity." I dried my hands with the paper towel and went to the door. I unlocked it and looked back at her. "Good luck with everything, Allie."
When her tears started to flow freely, I opened the door and left. If people were looking up from their meals to stare at me, I didn't notice. I went straight to our table and dropped enough cash to cover our meals and the tip. Then I went outside and around back to the parking lot, where I got into my car and did everything I could to forget the look on Allie's face when I had left her in that bathroom.
Chapter 16
Allie
I stood from my desk and tucked my chair in. I flattened my skirt out as I walked down the hall to the lunch room. No one was there because it was an hour later than when everyone usually took their break. I intentionally waited to eat so that I could sit in peace and quiet and avoid James, who always liked to invite me to his office to have lunch together. The last three months had been filled with daily visits to his office, where he told me how pretty I was and tried to convince me to start wearing lower cut blouses to work.
Did he somehow know that I was alone? That I hadn't had sex for three months because the man I loved wasn't speaking to me anymore?
I opened the communal fridge and grabbed the container with my name on it. Inside was some chopped-up veggies with hummus and half an egg salad sandwich. I stared at it, scrunched up my nose, and concluded that I was going to treat myself to a better lunch. Melissa and I had made plans to meet that afternoon, but she had called me the night before to tell me she couldn't make it. So I had thrown together a last-minute meal, and now there wasn't a single part of me that wanted to eat it. I wanted something cozy with all the cold weather that had settled in.
Now burdened with a craving for chili, I donned my jacket and slipped out of the office. I made my way down the block to a small diner that had the best homemade chili around, slid into a booth, and placed my order.
The diner looked empty. A month and a half ago it had been filled with cheerful Christmas lights, and the windows had all been painted with images of Santa and candy canes. Now it felt somber.
My chili arrived quickly. I leaned over it, the steam wafting up into my nose. When I opened my eyes, I was looking across the room.
To my surprise, I found a familiar pair of eyes staring back at me.
Steven was sitting at a booth, alone, on the other side of the diner. He had a small smile playing on his lips, and I suspected he had been watching me for a while. I smiled back and gave him a little wave.
He stood up, collected his winter jacket from the seat across from him, and made his way over to me. He stopped when he stood above me. "Well, hey there stranger," he said.
"Hey there," I said, rubbing my palms over my thighs anxiously.
"Can I join you?" he asked, nodding at the empty seat across from me.
"Please," I said.
He slid into the booth and folded his arms over the table. "You look good," he said. "I like the new haircut."
I had cut some of the length off my hair earlier that month. It was still long, but shorter than it had been the last time he saw me at the Italian restaurant. That had been three months ago now.
I swallowed. "You look good, too." I wasn't lying. His jaw was darkened with stubble that had never been there before. It gave a rugged, handsome look to his dark features that suited him. His hair was styled differently, too. I was used to seeing an unruly dark mess atop his head; now it was slicked back and shorter on the sides.
"What have you been up to?" he asked, his eyes flicking back and forth between mine. He seemed genuinely interested. It didn't feel like he was forcing himself to talk to me just because he had run into me. Maybe some of the anger he felt toward me had started to ebb away with the passing of time.