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Before: Horny Rabbits


Ashley

"You aren't a pizza guy."

That was literally the only thing I could think to say when I opened the door and Nick was standing there.

He stepped into the apartment and he closed the door. His body was very quickly very close and his cologne smelled intoxicating and his breath still carried a little bit of the sweet alcohol smell of his last drink at the bar. His hand wrapped around my back, his palm spread across my spine. He pulled me close to him.

I put my palms on his chest, where those stupid foot tattoos he once had used to be. "Nick," I said thickly, "I think we need to talk about this before we --"

"We do too much talking," he answered, and he leaned in as I started panicking and his mouth came down on mine, warm and soft and perfect and I felt all the rational start to melt. I started to give in, I started to sink into him, to surrender, to let go of thinking... but then I imagined the moment after the kiss broke, after the sex ended, after the good feelings washed away What then?

I shook myself away from his mouth, "But Nick..."

"No buts." He came down again, his mouth hot and sweet.

I pulled back, "Nick, what if we do this and it isn't -- it isn't perfect, and... what if it ruins everything?"

He shook his head, "It can't ruin anything. You're Dogface and I'm Nick. Nothing can ruin that." His mouth came to my neck, "There's lots of people who have friends with benefits."

I closed my eyes. I felt equally repulsed and delighted by the idea of friends with benefits with Nick. I tingled. I wanted to be that kind of girl, the kind of girl who would be okay with benefits without wanting more, without getting jealous every time Nick put the moves on another woman. I wanted to badly to be her. I could be her, I told myself, I could be that person that could do all that stuff.

Nick's mouth worked along my neckline and he nudged me backward slowly until we'd fallen onto my couch and he was laying over me, the length of his body pressed against the length of mine, his fingers entwined with mine. I closed my eyes as he kissed me over and over again. Maybe I was dreaming, I thought, because this felt awful familiar, like every fantasy I'd had since I was twelve years old.

Nick's palm was clammy and cool when he pressed his hand against my stomach. It slid up under my shirt to my bra and he cupped my breast softly. It took me back to that moment when we were kids in the storm pipe when Annalee Donaldson had called me a Flatty and I made Nick feel to see I wasn't a flatty.

I pictured telling our children how I'd met Nick when we were kids.

And I realized I couldn't be that girl that did friends with benefits. Least of all with Nick.

"Nick," I gasped as his fingers left my chest to start unbuttoning my shirt. "Nick," I said again. He didn't answer. I pushed him back and sat up. "Wait," I said. He sat there on the other side of the couch, his eyes trained on my chest, two of the buttons undone, my bra was peeking out. I took a deep breath, "Wait. If we're going to do this, we need to do it for real, not just because you're... desperate."

"Desperate," he repeated, nodding.

"We can't just be like two horny rabbits," I added, my voice shaking slightly.

"Horny rabbits..."

"Nick, I need you to promise me something."

"Promise you something..." he nodded.

"If we do this, I can't just be like everyone else," I said. "Nick, if we do this, I need to know I'm going to get a follow-up."

Nick's eyes became focused and he stared at me. "What?"

"Nick, we can't just be friends with benefits."

He blinked. "Why?"

"Because," I said levelly, "That's not what I want for us."

He stared at me for a long moment. "What do you want?"

"I want the follow-up, Nick," I replied.

He sat there silently for a long moment, staring at his knees. He closed his eyes, swallowed. He stood up, and without a single other word to me, he walked out the door.

I was still crying by the time the actual pizza guy got there a few minutes later.




Nick

I was disgusted with myself.

I walked down the street feeling sick until I ultimatly threw up in some person's front yard bush. Then I kept walking, clutching my stomach and feeling even sicker. I couldn't believe what I'd been about to do, how carelessly I'd launched myself into that position. I really was no better than that douche bag at the club, I thought to myself, and I stumbled along the sidewalk hating myself and everything I'd done since Ashley had touched my shoulder in the bar.

I went to Chris' house because I didn't know where else to go. He answered the door with a joint hanging from his mouth and I reached up and took it and took a long drag before I'd even said hello. He waved me inside and closed the door. "You look like shit," he said instead of saying hi, either.

"I feel like shit," I said.

Chris took his joint back and waved me into the living room. "What happened?"

"I almost slept with Dogface," I said.

Chris took the joint out of his mouth and put it down in an ash tray. "What?" he looked super concerned.

"We were at the bar tonight and there was this... I dunno, this moment... and I felt... it felt weird because it was like I almost wanted her." I shook my head, "It was so fucked up man."

"You.. didn't... did you?" he asked.

"What?"

"Have sex," he clarified, "With Ashley?"

"No," I said, "Only because she said she wanted more and I freaked out and I just.. I just got up and left."

Chris stared at me, his eyes wide and an he stood up and he did a couple paces back and forth, running his hands through his hair, "Aw shit Nick, aw shit."

"What?"

Chris looked at me. "What're you, stupid?" he asked.

"Stupid?"

"Yeah, you're a complete fucking retard," he said fiercely. "Jesus Christ, man," he added.

"What are you talking about? She had like babies in her eyes practically," I said, "She was talking about forever, I could tell the way she looked."

"What's wrong with forever with Ashley exactly?" Chris demanded, "Nick, have you thought about it? About forever with Ashley?"

"I can't think about forever with anyone," I said, "You know how I feel about marriage and shit. I'm not about to throw away everything by settling down and getting married. I'm not about to be fucking Brian for Chris's sake."

Chris's next words stunned me then, but in retrospect I don't know how I didn't already know this: "Fuck Nick I'd do fucking anything to have Ashley love me as much as she loves you for even just a minute!" he yelled, "And she offers it to you and you throw it away like a woman like that comes down the pike every day? You're a fucking idiot, bro!" he picked up the joint and shoved it into his mouth and took a long drag off it so that it smouldered and ashed at the end and he put it back down in the tray and he sat back down.

"I didn't know," I said.

Chris shrugged, "Neither does she."

"Why don't you tell her?" I asked.

Chris snorted, "Nick, she's all about you, don't you realize that?"

"That's bullcrap," I said.

Chris shook his head, "She'd never go for anyone else so long as you were still a possibility."