"So what are we doing then?"
I roll my eyes and finish my whiskey in one gulp. "I don't know what you're talking about. Everything is fine and comfortable."
"That's it! It's comfortable. I want more with you. I want to experience more of this life and grow with you."
"You knew what you were getting into when we got together. I didn't lie or hold anything back from you." Unlike you, I want to say. Biding my time, I keep my cool and hold back.
"This," she extends her arms out and stares me down. "We've been together for two years and not once have you told me you loved me, or anything along the lines of a couple ready to start a future."
"What?" My tone is harsh and I need to make sure I heard her correctly. "When did you think I wanted more? I don't think," I pause for dramatic effect. "Wait, I know I never said that. We're together, Andrea. That's it." She remains silent, and still her eyes are on me. "There's nothing more about us. I give you everything you want and now you want more."
"Nice," she mutters. "How can I not want more? I love you, Troy, and you don't ever say it back to me. All this time I thought you needed more time to see how good we are for each other. When we're out, we have fun and when we're home, things are good between us. Do you know my parents and friends ask me all the time when we're getting married?"
"Married?" I nearly pass out from the word. If I walk into a church, I'll be burned alive. If the words I do ever come out of my mouth I'll go ahead and jump off a cliff. The words husband, wife, family, and forever aren't anywhere near my vocabulary. What the fuck do those words mean? Being twenty-five years old with a successful at-home business, and money to last me for a while, I don't need someone to attach themselves to me.
"Okay," she sighs. "You don't want to get married?"
"No. Andrea, how many times do I have to explain myself? You knew what you were getting into when we first met."
"So back to my question, what are we doing? We live together and are building somewhat of a life together. Yes, I know you care about me and like me." I nod while pouring myself another glass of whiskey. "You know I love you and want more, but we're not on the same page."
Falling in love isn't something I want to experience again. Falling in love leaves you vulnerable. The emotions are too raw and fuck with your control on life. Instead of you being in the driver's seat, navigating your way through life the way you want, love takes over and makes decisions for you.
I take a moment to think about what I can say to her so she'll understand. I've been around love and happiness my whole life. My parents have been married for thirty years and to this day, still hold hands and look at each other with admiration. I know how to treat a woman and give her the world. "We're having fun and we're comfortable. We live together and are building a life, just not with rings and standing in a church telling our family and friends how we feel. This works, Andrea. I take you out on dates, and lavish you with gifts. We go on expensive trips around the world and I give you space to hang out with your friends. Like I said, this is all I can give you."
"I want to grow old with you and spend my life with you," she wipes her tears and I should feel bad. "I want us to get married and have kids."
I don't.
"You knew what you were getting into. I told you from the start I didn't want marriage or that kind of commitment. I'm not sure what else you want me to say. I won't be changing my mind."
"Maybe I thought I'd be the one to change your mind," she retreats into her hole and finishes her glass of wine. "I'm going to bed." Without another word, she touches my shoulder, kisses my cheek, and walks upstairs.
Putting away our dishes, I shut off the lights, turn on the alarm system, and head upstairs. Walking into my bedroom, I find Andrea in bed lying on her side, staring at me. My cock blinks his eye then goes back to sleep. He has no interest in a meeting with her pussy.
"I'm going to be downstairs doing work," I tell her. "Go to sleep. I'll see you in the morning."
"Seriously, Troy?" She groans and gets up. I see her naked body walking to the closet and in minutes she's out, dressed in a short black dress with a bag in her hand. "I'm going out and then crashing at Liza's house."
"Okay." I should breakup with her now and kick her out of my house. My father taught me how to be a gentleman and as much as I'd love to see the look on her face when I confront her with the truth, I honestly don't have the energy to deal with the argument.
She nods and heads out of the bedroom. It's almost eleven in the evening, and I should be worried my girlfriend is out and about. Only I'm not.
Heading back downstairs, I grab a glass of whiskey and walk outside to my deck, overlooking the in-ground pool and built-in waterfall. In every aspect of my life I'm in control. I'm in charge of my company that I have with Will, and have found my success because of my hard work, and support from my parents. They didn't have to bribe Yale to get me in, or pay for a building to get me good grades. As rich as I am with material things, there's something missing to make me full.
Sipping on my whiskey, I close my eyes and think about the last few years in Rochester. My booming fitness business is going on three years strong. My clients are not only local, but throughout the nation. I come up with their meal plan, make their food, package it, and ship it. Will does the same, and we are constantly attending conventions to promote our growing business. All of my energy is for my clients and the words fun and relaxing don't exist. Owning my business means I handle all the issues. I don't count on anyone else. Will and I meet once a week to talk about our sales, clients, and how else to make our business grow as a team and individually. Our business is successful because we are in control. Everything is about control. When you lose it you might as well kiss everything goodbye. No one can get through life without having a grasp on their life and what they want. You set a goal and you fucking do anything you can to reach your goal. No excuses.
Finishing my whiskey, I realize how alone I am. It's nights like these I despise. My mind wanders and plays hide and seek with thoughts I've kept buried. It looks for these issues and puts me in a shittier mood than I've been in. When I was younger I had my parents or friends around me. Now I keep my circle small. I've been screwed over too many times.
Taking my phone out of my pocket, I scroll through my contact list and think about texting Will. He's most likely home, cooking for clients, and my parents are vacationing in Europe. I have acquaintances, but only a handful of good friends I've let into my life. As we get older, it's not the quantity of friends, but the quality. I don't give a shit if I sound like a pussy. It's the truth. When you have a lot of friends, the chances to get screwed over is real.
The doorbell rings and I look up, wondering who's at the door. Pushing myself up from the chair outside I head through the kitchen and to the foyer. Reaching over to grab the doorknob, I twist it to open and blink a few times to make sure I'm seeing correctly.
"Hi, Troy."
Chapter 3
Troy
Nothing prepares you for when you're faced with the past. As hard and cold as I am, I'm nearly on my ass when I see her. I blink some more and instead of a twenty-five-year-old man, I'm brought to my eighteen-year-old self and the girl I love is standing before me.
My dick smiles and wakes up from a dreary nap. Fucking bastard decides now is the best time to be active. Not tonight, buddy. Not tonight. I do my best to think about anything that'll calm down my raging hard-on.
She's really looking at me and a smile comes across her face. It's the same smile I remember all those years ago. The smile that brings me to my knees and makes everything stop moving. I pause for a moment before saying something to her. The girl standing before me is a ghost from the past. I knew her. She was my first love, until I didn't know her anymore. She has no idea what she's doing to me.
When I don't smile back she flinches slightly. Watching her closely I see her smile slowly disappearing. The lost expression on her face shows and she nervously shuffles her feet.
"Troy," she calls for me again.
"Come in," I tell her and watch as she walks in. My eyes go directly to her long blonde hair, curvy body, and beautiful ass. Her legs are toned, and those tanned legs go on for miles. I'm imagining her legs wrapped around my waist while I fuck her until she screams. The dress she has on hugs every delicious curve of her body. Damn, do I want her. "Charlotte." Saying her name is doing things to my body. I control my feelings and turn on my hardened stare. I remind myself this is the girl who ripped my heart out and took it with her. Feeling sorry for her or happy she's here isn't an option.