Short. Concise. I started to follow up the answer with a follow up question, but right then, at 10:49 PM, his doorbell rang. And any questions I had stalled.
58. Late Night Booty Call
I stayed in place on his bed, still naked, the sheet clutched to my chest, and listened. The one good thing about a New York apartment’s tiny size: ease in eavesdropping. I heard clearly the moment when he opened the door, and I heard the surprise in his voice when he said her name.
“Presa?”
I didn’t know why he was surprised. I saw the way she looked at him. More importantly, I saw the way she looked at me. Like I was an annoyance, something to squash just for the fun of it. I stood up and quietly walked to the door, my hand on the doorknob. I peeked through the crack and saw Carter, his boxer briefs and nothing else on. All I could see of Presa was the elaborate skirt of her dress.
“It’s not a good time,” Carter spoke quietly. “Which I’m sure you know.”
“Don’t be silly. I came by for a drink. It was so nice to see you tonight.”
“Chloe is here. My girlfriend? You met her tonight.”
The girlfriend reference again.
“Oh. The little blonde.”
That irritated me. Even more than the middle-of-the-night booty call. I looked for my dress but it was on the other side of the bedroom, hanging off a chair.
“You should go. It’s inappropriate, you being here.” He moved a little, as if to usher her out.
“I thought you liked a party.” Her voice sounded as if she hadn’t moved an inch. “She doesn’t like to share?”
“I don’t want to share. Or be shared. I’m not going back into that world with you, Presa.” He sounded tired. Poor guy. Discussing threesomes was probably exhausting. “Please leave.”
Yes Presa, I thought. Please leave before I run out of this room, completely naked, and smack that entitled smirk off your face. They were into threesomes? Any sexual confidence from our shower faded.
“Stop,” Carter spoke, and the word was muffled. I stuck my head out of the door to try and see what was happening, could hear the sounds of feet scuffling across the floor, and as I craned my neck, I could see Carter trying to push her through the door. With a yelp of indignation, Presa finally reached the hall, his hand shutting the door quickly, the latch flapped shut, and when he turned to me, I stared in shock at her lipstick, bright red on his mouth.
As a woman, I didn’t always act rationally, especially when it was a week before my period, my brain was still strung out from orgasms, and I was looking at another woman’s lipstick on my man.
And yes, Carter was my man. That was the first order of business that I was determined, right there in the middle of the night, to set straight.
“You told her I was your girlfriend.” The words came out like an accusation, and I could see the wariness in his eyes when he responded.
“Yes.”
“Am I?”
“Do you want to be?”
“Yes!” I snarled the words and he looked confused. I didn’t really blame the man. Most discussions of commitment came after champagne and roses and hot sex. And usually the person asking about the commitment didn’t sound like she was ready to join the WWE. “Do you want to be my boyfriend?” I stepped forward, my hands clenched at my side and his eyes dropped, for a minute, from my face. It hadn’t been my plan to have this fight while naked; in fact, it hadn’t been my plan to have a fight at all, but I didn’t bother to cover up. “Do you want to be my boyfriend?” I repeated, my words all but a threat.
“Yes?” The answer was a question, a healthy amount of fear in his eyes.
“Good.” I turned and stalked back to the bedroom, and it was around the time that I slammed the door, my bare feet stomping over to the bed, that I realized how mental I was acting. Had I really just gained a relationship? Or had I just beaten a distracted man into submission?
I crawled into his bed and heard the sink come on in the bathroom, some splashing. He was probably washing off her lipstick. I heard the sound of teeth brushing, and I felt relieved and irritated, all at the same time.
I realized, staring up at the ceiling, that my feelings were a little