Ace of Hearts Ch. 05

Hey people! For those of you who have stuck with me through the first several chapters, I deeply appreciate it, and I'm wildly surprised and very flattered. For those of you who are opening this for the first time...this absolutely does not stand alone. That said, this chapter has themes of adultery, obviously, and is less with the hot sex and more with the hot mess. Stick with me for chapter 6, in which I will totally make it up to you.

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It seems so innocent at first glance. Just a little blue box, no big deal. It's small, really.

How can something so small be so life changing?

It's taken me six months of putting away money from each check to be able to afford this. And now that I have it, I don't know how to feel about it.

Rob, who is shirtless, showing off his rock solid abs and über pecs, strolls into the kitchen where I'm seated with my elbows on my knees, hands clasped. His blue cargo sweats are hanging low on his hips, and he's wearing a do-rag, no doubt perfecting his waves for his next unsuspecting victim. I study him. Is this hot? Am I on dick now?

I watch him crack an egg on the skillet and squint. He's a good looking guy, strong and low key. We've been friends since third grade.

"If you want to see my dick, you can just ask," he announces, flips his egg, and raises a brow. I laugh.

"Good night?" I tease. This morning I greeted this white dude that looked like he spent a lot of time describing microbrews in detail and using the words "swag" and "merch".

"His mom was better," Rob shrugs and grins.

"This fuckin' guy," I laugh, but it's humorless. I slump back in my seat and sigh miserably. I can't tell if it's better or worse that I'm not attracted to Rob. He glances back at me.

"What's wrong with you? Is that what I think it is?" He nods at the box.

"Yeah."

"So, what's with the attitude? Isn't that what you wanted?" He plates his egg and cuts an avocado in half.

"Yes?" I rip my fingers through my hair frustrated. "No? I mean, yes obviously."

He grins at me and sits down, "Let's see it."

I open the box and we stare at the ring. He lets out a low whistle.

"One third carat marquise cut diamond with pavé inlay-something-something in white gold," I sigh.

"Damn," he takes a bite of his egg and avocado concoction. "Something wrong with it?"

"No," I furrow my brow. "Why?"

"Because you look fucking miserable," he says over a forkful.

I sigh and scrub my hands down my face.

"This wouldn't have anything to do with Asa's sleepover last week, would it?"

My attention snaps to him suddenly, which is my first mistake. "What?" Mistake number two.

"When you was movin' all that shit for your moms? Asa's truck filled with furniture was still in the lot at 5:30 in the morning," he takes a smug bite. He sips on his green smoothie filled with virgin blood and whey and whatever the fuck body builders have for breakfast.

I feel like an idiot.

"I..." I stammer and my mouth goes dry. Three strikes, I'm out. Rob sets his fork down, pushes his plate away, and clasps his hands together.

"No!" I blurt. It's too late though, Rob has known me too long. I close my eyes. I can feel my cheeks burn. I try to ready myself for all the shit talk headed my way.

"I don't think I have ever seen you like this, man," I open my eyes in confusion, expecting to find amusement in his but instead I find concern. "It's been a long time since you surprised me. When did it all start?"

I clear my throat. "It's not anything."

He raises his eyebrows and sits back in his chair, returning to his food. He does not appear to believe me for some reason.

"Nothin' don't look like that," he responds apologetically, like he's the one breaking the news to me.

I ignore him.

I've been avoiding Asa. Skipping his calls, leaving him on read. He's noticed and he's stopped texting. I hate it. But I can't deal.

Even though it got me a reaming from Tara, I didn't show up to family dinner this weekend because I can't trust myself to see him. I faked a headache and I guess I looked miserable enough because she spent the night stroking my hair and rubbing my back and just generally doting on me.

It was nice. But it was somehow foreign.

I do miss her. I hadn't seen very much of her lately, and curling up to her soft body, plush, and sweet smelling, soothed my frayed nerves. But as I laid wrapped up watching movies with the woman I claim to love, allowing her to cover me with kisses and caresses, I couldn't stop thinking of waking up next to Asa. And it made me feel like a piece of shit. I still feel like a piece of shit. I am a piece of shit.

He's all I think about though, even now, staring at the ring I bought to propose to Tara. I think about how different he looks when he sleeps, curled up tight against me. His face looks younger somehow, revealing the boy-next-door that I know lives inside him. I think about how long I laid beside him, brushing his hair out of his face. Tracing his features, his ears, his eyebrows, his nose only to realize he was awake because he kissed my palm.

I remember how his hand reached up to cradle mine and he kissed my palm again and then my wrist, and my whole arm down to the soft flesh of my inner elbow. I held my breath. I always hold my breath. I remember that he then pulled my arm around his neck and pressed his body against mine.

I had him then. I rolled him over and had him slowly in bed, and then again in the shower. He didn't leave until lunchtime, under the guise that I needed to wash his clothes, and while we waited for the laundry, on this very kitchen table, he had me.

I think back to that night when I'm bed with Tara in order to get off. Our sex life has eroded to almost nothing.

I remember not being able to leave his mouth alone, making it almost impossible for us to leave my house. I remember him laughing into my mouth, asking, "Again?" when he felt my erection press into him by the door.

"And again and again," I remember saying, prompting him to capture my mouth with his. I remember being lost in him.

I remember being so late for work and Frank being so pissed but I could still taste him on my lips and that alone made my heart thump so hard I couldn't hear a word Frank was saying. I remember Frank saying, "What the fuck are you smiling about, asshole?"

I remember his texts throughout the day. Funny, thoughtful, sexy. He had sent two selfies, one of his cock, and one of his scrunched up face, the classroom behind him. I remember spending more time looking at his face. My face hurt from smiling.

However, I also remember getting the text from Mom thanking me for moving the furniture, and I also remember how proud she said she was of me for not pushing Asa away from Veronica. How much I've changed. How happy Veronica is.

I remember the heat from the shame clogging my throat making it impossible to breathe and I remember the way I couldn't stop tears, of all fucking things, from blurring the ride home. I cannot remember the last time I cried.

I remember ripping the sheets that smelled of him, of us, off my bed and washing them in scalding hot water, those stupid fucking tears burning my face.

I can feel right them now, threatening, looming. Itching the corners of my eyes.

Rob's looking at me, and I blink the haze of memory away and clear my throat.

"Damn, Jon," Rob murmurs. "I didn't know it was this bad."

"I don't know what to do," I whisper, and I feel the anxiety clawing up my chest.

The key shifts in the lock and I swipe the ring box off the table and tuck it in my hoodie pocket.

Tara, the only person who has a key to our apartment, cheerfully enters with some bags of groceries. I have the cold realization that at any point, as unlikely as it would have been, Tara could have found Asa and I. I feel worse.

"Gentlemen!" she sings, striding purposefully into the kitchen. She gives me a peck on the mouth, and Rob a peck on the cheek.

"Hey ma," Rob tilts his cheek. She starts unpacking her bags; chicken, canned beans, spinach, a bunch of other shit.

She's cooking for us tonight. I forgot. She pulls out some fruit salad and whistles happily. She's in a fantastic mood, and I feel like absolute trash. She deserves better.

"Sooooo, I settled the Lombardi case, and I am seriously going to explode. I think this is what a home run feels like. And Donovan was so supportive the whole time, and he completely let me run the show..." Tara jumps into her work stories immediately and begins to chop her spinach. I know I should be all in, she'd been working so hard, but I can't focus.

"...to celebrate! So they'll be over around 4 this evening," she was saying while pulling out the crockpot.

"What?" I seem to have missed something critical. "What?"

"Jesus, Jonny?" Tara huffs. "I'm telling you about a huge fucking advancement in my career and--oh my god, what's wrong?"

Rob is giving me a subtle warning look and I try to school my features into a neutral expression. I look up at her. I don't know what to say. I feel like I've lost the last three minutes.

"I'm fine."

"Baby, you have no color in your face."

"Congratulations," Rob laughs, and she swats him with the towel.

"You know what I mean, God."

I give them both a wan smile. "I'm sorry, baby. Say again?"

"Rakeem and Audra, Mia, and Vivi and Asa are coming. Remember? To celebrate the case settling? To celebrate all these stupid hours I've been having to pull?" She looks at me with uncertainty and then glances at Rob. He shrugs.

Shit, shit, shit. What? "You invited my sister and...her man??"

"Yes? Jonny, we talked about this earlier this week. Are you sure you're okay?" She looks irritated but above everything else, confused.

"We talked about dinner but we definitely did not talk about Vivi and Asa," I growl and Rob is trying to give me a very pointed look to stop whatever the fuck I think I'm doing.

"Yes we did," she raises her voice. She always raises her voice. "And anyway, who cares? I thought you and Asa hit it off and were besties or some shit with the way yall two hang out. What's the fucking problem?"

I shove my chair back in frustration and growl. "We're not friends."

I feel the walls closing in around me. She looks at me with a mixture of frustration and dejected disappointment and I can't bear it.

Rob interjects, "His problem is that he asked Yaneirys Bustamante out for the Christmas Dance on this day in 8th grade and he's still sad about it. It's aight, man. I'll hold you just like I did that night."

We both stop and look at him and he grins his shitty grin. I love him. Thank God for Rob.

I start to laugh and it goes from giggles to absolute cackles and Tara looks so lost and impatient and it only makes this funnier.

"Who the fuck is Yaneirys Bustamante?" she exclaims.

I am roaring with laughter. "How do you even remember that?"

He shrugs and puts his plate in the dishwasher. "It was an experience that touched us all."

"No shit, if I remember correctly, she touched you. A lot," I crack. He winks at me smugly. "As I said."

Tara folds her arms and glares at us both.

"I'm sorry, boo. I'm just in a weird headspace. I'm happy and proud of you. What can I do?"

Tara returns to the counter to prep and cheerfully goes on a mile a minute, satisfied with my turn. I breathe deep, push my bullshit back, and start preparing the apartment for guests.

***

I stay in my room as long as possible, until it becomes obviously rude. Tara asks for the hundredth time what was wrong with me. I wish I knew.

"I'm just not feeling hot, babe," I slide on my white Yankee fitted. She pulls it off. I sigh.

"You're going to get hat hair," she scolds, arranging my hair, defining the ringlets. "When are you going to get a haircut?"

"I can go right now," I offer and she slaps my arm. She presses her body into mine and I automatically drape my arm around her.

"You smell good," she croons. "Maybe if you shave tonight we can have our own celebration."

I smile faintly as she nips at my ear and neck, and I dip to give her a chaste kiss. Usually, that would be enough to have me chase her like a puppy, but tonight I'm not feeling it. Lately, I'm not feeling it.

She can tell.

"Baby," she pouts.

"Let's celebrate, you deserve it," I assure her and kiss her on the top of her head, which seems to sate her. I give her a big whiff.

"Is that new? What are you wearing?" I tilt my head trying to place the perfume. Tara smiles mysteriously.

"I have my secrets," she bats her lashes at me. I smirk. Don't we all.

It's good to see the crew again. Rakeem, Rob, and I smoke a blunt on the balcony, shooting the shit, and things start to feel normal again. Inside the music is bumping with the ladies all crowing around the kitchen table drinking wine.

This isn't so bad. I'm buzzed, relaxing with my peeps, and having a good time. Rakeem stays funny as fuck and he and Rob riff off one another. Mia comes out and then it's the Rob and Mia show. An hour or so in I'm sitting on the arm of my couch and feeling weightless, all my worries far away.

For a time.

I smell my sister first in a cloud of the perfume she's worn since we were teens. Daisy? Maybe?

"Hi, dummy," Veronica gives me a kiss over my shoulder and squeezes my neck. She looks so fucking happy. I hate myself.

"Hey, stupid," I smile. She makes her rounds and the party livens with Veronica being a complete ham, and everyone being excited to meet Asa. I hear Rob whoop with pride when Asa shakes with Rakeem; evidently the dap lessons paid off.

"That's my man!" Rob, everyone's favorite hype man, howls. Asa looks fucking amazing. He always does. He blushes at Rob's praise and smiles. His eyes meet mine.

I look away.

I can sense him coming toward me. Is he stupid? Can't he fucking see that I can't keep my shit together? I look back and he's right there with his crooked grin and shining eyes.

"Hey, man," he says and eagerly offers his hand.

I gawk. He insists.

I can't help but laugh, the fucking nerd wants to show me the bro shake.

He slides his hand along my palm and I swallow hard. We hook thumbs and he brings me in and my body is screaming wanting so badly to curl into him.

He pulls me towards him, throws one arm around me and right in my ear whispers, "I've missed you."

My smile drops and I can't breathe. We split, hook fingertips and pound knuckles but my throat is dry, and I'm afraid to look in his eyes.

"Are you doing okay?" He asks, peering at me trying to catch my gaze.

"Fine, man," I look around desperately for an out.

"Shit, can someone get ice?" Tara hollers from the kitchen.

Oh my god, Deus ex Tara.

"I got it, gorgeous!" I jump at the chance to get the fuck out of here. I snatch my keys and my wallet and thunder downstairs, but I can feel him behind me.

I get to my car but I can smell him. I whirl around, and he's there, with his hands in his pockets, looking laid back as ever but I know him now. His eyes are worried.

"What are you doing here?" I demand.

"Going with you," he says.

"Why?" I bark.

He's quiet. My chest hurts.

"Because I want to," he responds softly. He doesn't give me a chance to say anything, he just opens the passenger side door and sits in the car. I swallow and get in.

I pull out of the parking lot and grumble. "It's only like a five minute trip."

"I'll take what I can get," he murmurs, his forehead against the window. Fuck. He's killing me. I am fucking everything up.

The gas station is out of ice. How anyone runs out of ice in the winter in the northeast is beyond me. But the devil has it out for me I guess, and I pull out to drive to the next gas station.

"You got scared, didn't you," he finally says, but it's not a question.

"What? No." I keep my eyes on the road.

"Then why have you been ghosting me?"

"I'm not, I'm just..." I trail off. I am. Both ghosting him and afraid.

"Please Jonathan--" he starts, but I interrupt him.

"DON'T--Don't say that," I plead, my voice breaking. "You know I can't handle it when you say that."

"Please, talk to me," he continues anyway. I pull into the Shell station and park. Not at all close to the door, but in the corner, out of the light.

"I-" I try and he turns my chin to face him. Jesus Christ, there is pain in his eyes. I am fucking absolutely everything up.

He dips his head in and brushes his lips against mine. I kiss him back, and we find ourselves, like we often do, wrapped up in each other's mouths in a hungry heated kiss, tasting, probing, biting and it takes every fucking ounce of willpower I have to pull away. He grabs my face and pulls it back and I fucking climb half way over the center console onto him.

Without taking his mouth from mine, hand firmly on the back of my head, he drops the seatback flat and pulls me further against him. It's awkward and uncomfortable, and I can feel my muscles cramping because we are both far too large for this, but I don't care because his mouth tastes like home.

Somehow, I've made it completely to the passenger side of my car, pinning him beneath me and grinding against his cock. My arm is crushed against the car door, and I smack the back of my head on the roof. His knee narrowly misses my sack and I laugh into his mouth. But it doesn't matter how awkward and uncomfortable we are, he brings me back to his lips.

It's all absurd. But despite the insane contortionist position I'm going to have to explain to my chiropractor, he doesn't let me catch my breath, he doesn't let me pull away, he's biting my lip and sucking my tongue and I surrender to him.

Like always.

His arms are wrapped around me tightly, not letting me go in any direction but closer to him. I have to stop this, I have to but my face is in his neck suckling, nipping, and kissing because I missed him so fucking much.

I don't...know what to do.

He growls in frustration because it's too cramped in the car and he can't get in my pants. He curses, pinches his finger and I laugh but it's wet, betraying my feelings.

I bury my face in his neck, hiding my lips from his without having to give him up.

That's what I have to figure out. How to hide my lips from his without having to give him up. I don't want to lose him. I can't. But I can't keep doing this to Veronica.

I blink guiltily. Or Tara.

"Jonathan?" He asks softly, trying to pull my face up. I burrow my face deeper and I just hold onto him, cramped muscles and all. I just breathe him. Just...let me have this.

"You can," he responds gently, and I realize I said that out loud. "I don't understand, what is going on?"

That pisses me off. The fuck does he mean he doesn't understand? Is he stupid?

I choke back a sob. Man the fuck up, Jon. I pull the release to the door because it's easier than trying to climb back, and tumble to the ground.

"Jonathan?"

I look up at him. He's righted the seat and is looking at me. He's looking at me with his fucking eyes. Those eyes that stop me in my tracks.

"I can't, Asa. We can't," I manage and cover my face. I can't look at him.

He doesn't say anything and eventually I look up to see his brows drawn and his eyes dark with sadness.

"Stop looking at me like that," I bark and he closes his eyes and turns away. I switch to anger to stop myself crying.

"How do you not understand? You're dating my sister! We fucked this up. We both knew this was a mistake and we both knew this wasn't going to last!" I hiss and he gazes down at me.

"Did we?" he murmurs.

"Of course we fucking did!" I rage. I stand up. "This was fun and games, this was bullshit. This was just fucking. Look at us! We're in a shell station parking lot at night comiendo mierda! What are we, children?"