An Open Entanglement Ch. 04

She nodded with a smile and kissed him one last time before going back to her apartment.

***

The innocent white panties, the pouting lip and the denied orgasm... "It couldn't have gone better," she thought mischievously, as she laid into bed next to a thankfully still snoring Jim.

Her defenses against Brad were still halfway up, allowing her to enjoy the sex without complicating it with her feelings. After his confession in the bedroom, though, she couldn't ignore things for much longer. She'd have to deal with them and sort it out once and for all.

That, however, was a job that needed caffeine and sunlight. For the moment, she could continue fantasizing about him climbing on top of her and making love to her over and over again.

Her fantasies bled into her dreams and she fell asleep with a smile on her face.

***

Jim looked like he got up on the wrong side of the bed that Sunday morning. Taylor followed soon after and her mood immediately soured once she realized whom she was waking up next to.

"Did you get up last night?"

Taylor wished her Sunday morning had started with something other than Jim's passive aggressiveness.

"Yeah. I was too warm under the covers. Needed some fresh air. Did I wake you up?" She was trying not to let him get under her skin. It wasn't his fault he wasn't Brad.

"Everything OK? Therapy is going well, you said. I thought things would get better."

"Wow, you really expect miracles from therapy, don't you? I've only been to one session, mind you; the second one is tomorrow."

"I know you said you needed therapy and I made it happen for you, but do try not to spend all our money on sessions. What is it exactly that you so desperately need to talk about anyway? Just tell me; I listen to you for free, you know."

Arguing about money first thing in the morning was really the best way to immediately get Taylor to an 11 on the anger scale. Taylor could feel her head spin at how wonderfully awful their relationship had recently gotten. No wonder she had slept with...

At that thought, she knew it was time to break the news to Jim. That she'd been unfaithful, that she'd likely continue to be unfaithful. She thought she'd be more upset and overridden with guilt, but staring at him that Sunday morning, it was anger that dominated the other feelings - anger towards Jim for holding her back. He wanted her to be one thing and one thing only. That was all he had seen from her, so she was to blame. But he had left no room for growth or for intimacy of any kind.

She grabbed her running clothes and changed in the bathroom. Being naked in front of Jim felt wrong somehow. When had that even started? She didn't want him to see her exposed, not like he'd look at her with any kind of desire anyway. He wouldn't look at her like she wanted to be looked at.

She came out of the bathroom, dressed in athleisurewear that showed off her amazing body. But inside, she felt all broken, despite knowing it was the right thing to do. All that was left was for her to navigate the next steps.

Jim was still sitting on the bed in his PJ's. His gaze on Taylor was difficult to decipher and she wasn't sure if he was maybe coming to terms with the same thing she was.

"Jim, I slept with someone," she said quietly.

"Are you serious?"

She nodded her head, waiting for the sadness to sink into his eyes. Instead, he reacted in an altogether different way to the news.

"You know what, I'm not even going to pretend to be surprised. All my friends warned me you would do this to me. I guess I'm now supposed to thank you for your honesty or some bullshit."

Taylor was incredulous. "What do you mean they warned you?"

She could see Jim's lips twitch in a cruel smile, "I'm saying they took one good look at you and knew what a whore you were. I was the only one too stupid to see it."

Shaking her head in disbelief, she moved into their kitchen/living room area. Jim followed like an angry puppy, bounding in with clumsy but determined steps. She felt he was itching to have the last word.

"I'm going to go on my run. We can perhaps talk about this once we've calmed down a bit more," she suggested halfheartedly, knowing there was little left to talk about.

"Yeah, you go run with Kate. Or whore yourselves out, is more like it. Is there a Sunday special, two for the price of one?"

She couldn't believe the words coming out of his mouth. Had he always thought so little of her and her best friend, and just hidden it so well?

"What's it to you," she asked bitterly, "not like you can keep it up long enough for anyone to enjoy."

The setup had been too easy to ignore. She didn't look at him and just slammed the door behind her. A few seconds later, something hard crashed on the other side of the door. She ran down the stairs, her heart beating furiously.

***

Without intending to, Brad had caught the end of the fight next door. The door being slammed might as well have been his own front door. Then came the sound of something crashing into the solid barrier; he thought that was probably a mug.

He had never heard them fight before; Jim wasn't the type to yell, or throw stuff, for that matter, which clearly no longer held true. Brad hated his guts even more now. If he had been in the room with them, he would've punched the asshole in the face and then run after Taylor.

"It's not your fight," his regular inner voice told him chidingly. What he had said the previous night was just a slip of the tongue. He hadn't meant it. He didn't do emotions, attachments or relationships; it was just easier that way.

He dropped onto the floor and started his morning push-ups, trying to continue his weekend morning routine, despite the feeling gnawing at his stomach. However, as thoughts of Taylor uncontrollably swirled around his head, he kept losing count and after restarting the set three times, he gave up.

By the time he realized he did want to go after her, she had long ago left the building. Of course, he had no idea where she would have gone, or even what he could have said to her to console her. Technically, he didn't even know what the fight had been about.

A new, unfamiliar inner voice said, "You wish she told him about you, don't you?" That tiny voice was immediately then quashed by the regular inner voice.

With his muddled mindset, idly sitting around in his apartment was no longer an option. Skipping breakfast altogether, he put some clothes on, grabbed his gym bag and went to the pool. Swimming would clear his head; it always did.

He was in the water within half an hour, submerged in his comfort zone. After the exhilarating first couple of laps in the cold pool, the nervous energy from the morning slowly dissipated. He smiled to himself and felt thankful that he could always trust the water to quiet down the inner voices.

He swam in silence, his body going through the very comfortable motions like a machine, one stroke after the other. Unfortunately, his peace and quiet was short-lived, as other people started coming in for a Sunday swim.

Once he was no longer alone, the quiet surrounding his brain dissolved and his earlier thoughts caught up with him quickly. There was a new and vivid image to go with his confusing thoughts; Taylor underneath him, her baby blue eyes locked onto his, the blonde hair a messy halo on his pillow.

If he closed his eyes, he could relive the moment their bodies connected, down to the last tiny detail. Were it not for the chlorine water, he probably could have even smelled her intoxicating scent.

It was strange to realize that he was zeroing in on things that normally didn't leave a lasting impression on him. As hard as he had been fighting it, the reality that he was falling for her was finally staring him in the face.

He finished the lap, got out to dry off and get changed. The pool had come through for him, as usual, although the answer wasn't the one he'd been looking for.

He shook his head to get the water out of his ears. In a desperate attempt, he reached for the phone in his gym bag, hoping Taylor had texted him, before realizing they hadn't even exchanged phone numbers.

Shaking his head again as he chuckled at himself, Brad grabbed his stuff and left to go back home. Now that he was convinced she was what he wanted, he'd fight for her.

***

Taylor spent most of Sunday outdoors, frequenting one coffee shop after the other, before coming home long after dark. She saw the mess Jim had made in the kitchen and also the blanket and pillow on the couch, along with her two-piece suit and a dress shirt that he had left out for her workday.

"How thoughtful," she muttered and braced herself for a night's sleep on the couch.

***

She woke up all sorts of sore early on Monday morning. With some dry shampoo and all of her makeup skills, she was able to put herself in a moderately presentable state before leaving for work.

Luckily, it was an easygoing Monday at work for her. Kate had left the country almost a week ago and not having her around made it significantly more difficult to get through even a mundane workday. Despite everything, Taylor found herself actually looking forward to leaving early and getting to her therapy session.

She wrapped up some of the paperwork she had been leaving for a slow day like that. Then, early in the afternoon, she left the office, grabbed a cup of coffee and headed to the therapist's office.

***

Barely twenty minutes into the session, she stormed out.

The train ride home was disturbing, to say the least. Dealing with the therapist, however short-term it might have been, had been the easy part. Dealing with the damage his words caused was arguably the hard part.

Her therapist, who happened to be her fiancé's buddy from college, had been extremely judgmental after hearing her confession about cheating on her fiancé and the one-night-stands. After some relentless questioning, he had arrived at the damning diagnosis.

"Maybe the problem is that you're a sex addict," he had said.

The two words seared into her brain, Taylor had teared up and tried to explain. However, it hadn't taken too long after that to reveal his true character.

"How about you spread those legs for me, like you have clearly been doing all over town, and I won't breathe a word to Jim?"

Everything about the guy had crystallized in that instant and Taylor had immediately known what to do.

"Really? You'll keep my secret?" she'd asked in a hopeful tone and walked towards him. Once he was close enough to kiss her, she had kneed him in the crotch, sending the amateur therapist doubling over in pain immediately and crumbling to the floor with a loud groan.

The worst part was that she was fighting herself, wondering whether he actually had a point, whether, despite being a pervert, with all his education, he had actually arrived at the right conclusion.

She shook her head. This was no addiction. She was a woman, who enjoyed sex, and the stupid would-be therapist had merely tried to dominate and take advantage of her when she was vulnerable. She could probably sue the schmuck.

It was this back and forth in her head that continued as she left the station and started walking the 5 blocks to home. Considering she knew the area well, it was almost excusable that she wasn't paying attention to her surroundings.

Almost.

"Taylor! Hey, Taylor!"

The unexpected male voice calling out to her from across the street brought her out of her internal argument.

Her blue eyes focused on the source; her first reaction to the identity of the man was "Oh God, you've got to be kidding me!" She didn't dare say it out loud, since her ex Nick, smiling and waving at her in that very instant, was very much the ultimate pig, a complete package of charm and violence, with a side of unpredictable temper.

"Nick, what are you doing here?" Subconsciously, she held her purse tightly and stood where she was, not daring to cross the street to be within striking distance of her ex.

"I was thinking about you. Wanted to see if you still lived around here and damn, you look good, babe."

He was leaning against his car in a casual stance. His eyes didn't leave her face, which Taylor thought was a forced gesture meant to impress her. He had probably had enough time to check her out before calling out to her; something she had missed due to her internal chaos.

He seemed to be in a good mood and at least mostly sober, but she still hesitated to go near him, which he obviously noticed. Without saying anything else, he crossed the street, barely checking for oncoming cars.

Her eyes sought out her apartment building and tried to discreetly gauge the distance to the front door. She wouldn't make it if she made a run for it.

"Aww, no, you're already trying to get rid of me. Don't you have five minutes for an old friend?" Taylor blushed and waited quietly for him to reach the sidewalk. Hopefully he'd say what he had to say and leave.

Up close, he looked as handsome as she remembered. She caught his familiar woodsy scent, which made her insides do a tiny weird somersault. His warm smile, now within inches of her face, had the unwanted effect of melting her insides completely. She couldn't help but return his smile.

"There's the smile I was hoping for." He was really close to her now, her eyes at his shoulder level, his voice low and thick with desire.

Her heart was beating fast now, but she didn't move. Playing dead was the most feasible option against that particular predator.

"Listen. Why don't we go grab some coffee, instead of standing out here? I'm sure what's-his-face will not worry too much if you don't get home by 5." His tone dripped with honey, like it always had when he needed, or wanted, something.

He had all but pinned her against the wall of the building behind her. The unsolicited physical contact spiked her adrenaline and made her change her mind about playing dead. She had to get out of there, by any means.

"Coffee? Look, Nick, I haven't had the best day and as much as I appreciate you showing up like this, I can't... I need to get home, OK?"

Betraying her best efforts to sound confident, her voice came out shakily. Her body was remembering what it was like to fear for its life. She couldn't meet his eyes, but could feel his next words would not sound as sweet.

"Seriously? I drive all this way and you... You still can't do anything that wasn't penciled in on your schedule, after all these years! Jesus, woman, have a life!" He took ahold of her arms and shook her violently a few times, before releasing her with a heavy sigh.

"Look at you, still able to push my buttons and drive me mad with a few words. Taylor, honestly, if I didn't love you this much, I probably would've killed you long ago, babe."

She had heard those words many times before and they didn't scare her any less now. Tears fell down her cheeks freely. Nick wasn't too moved by them, but at least he was subdued enough for the moment to let her walk away.

Trying not to sprint, she reached her building with hurried steps. At the front door, she realized she hadn't fished out her keys out of her purse. Her heart skipped a beat as she frantically looked for them.

By the time she heard the jingle of the bundled keys, Nick was upon her with a smile that didn't bode well for her.

"I told you, I drove all this way to see you. What's the hurry, sweetheart?"

He took the keys out of her hands. Taylor blanched. Then she did the only thing that came to her mind -- buzz her and Jim's apartment on the intercom. She was praying Jim would be home, hear the buzzing and come down to let her in, wondering why she wasn't using her keys. It was a stretch, but she had to try.

She couldn't have known Jim was indeed upstairs in the apartment, but buried safely under the covers in the bedroom with his noise-canceling headphones, still fuming over their fight the day before.

"Nobody coming to your rescue, then?" The corners of Nick's mouth curved upward in a mocking smile. She knew he'd eventually regret whatever he was about to do, but it would be too late for her by then.

"You know you'll gain absolutely nothing by hitting me, Nick."

He pushed her against the door and closed the distance between them.

"Oh, I won't hurt you. Much. I just want to play like we used to. Come be my lawyer chick, rescuing me from prison. Remember that?" His hands landed firmly on her shoulders, then slid down to her sides.

"I'd rather put you back in prison. Get off me!" Taylor blindly started pressing all the buttons on the intercom, hoping to God someone would come down before Nick completely lost it.

He grabbed her ass and squeezed it tightly, whilst leaning down to kiss her. She tried to head-butt him; it only encouraged him more.

"You still have some fight in you. Never did manage to knock it out of you, did I?" he growled in her ear. No more sweet and charming, now he was just the beast normally hidden within him, mad with fury and lust.

His hands went to her waist, ready to start ripping her blouse to get to her naked skin, with no regard to being in a public space.

Taylor sobbed quietly, praying someone, anyone, would see them and interfere. As fate would have it, right around the second she heard the fabric of her blouse tear, the apartment door behind her opened and she fell backwards.

Taylor yelped. When she opened her eyes, she found herself in the arms of Brad, who had opened the door and caught her just in time before her head hit the floor. Nick stood at the doorway, assessing the new guy.

Brad had heard the bell ring and came down to the entrance, only to realize the person was practically trying to buzz all the apartments. To his advantage, half the door was tempered glass and he was able to see someone pressed against it, with the silhouette of a second person.

He hadn't realized it was Taylor pressed against the door. He thanked his lucky stars he'd been ready to catch her, and then after giving her a reassuring look, he lifted her up back into a standing position and put himself between her and the strange man.

"You're interfering with a domestic situation, bozo, get lost," the man said with confidence.

Brad intentionally looked down at the man, who was a few inches shorter than him but seemed determined to underestimate him.

"Domestic? Taylor's my girlfriend, buddy, and it's your hands on my girl, which makes you the interference. Get lost before I call the cops or worse."

The man's eyes narrowed at Brad and then he turned to Taylor with a crooked smile that contorted his handsome features.

"Girlfriend? Awww cute... Did you fuck this meathead, babe? Really not your style; I thought you liked your men to be more intelligent. Even Jim is... Ah anyway, here, bozo, take ten bucks to get yourself a protein shake. Leave me alone with my wife!"

"Ex-wife," Taylor shouted at him, hiding behind Brad's back. "Brad, just close the door. Don't get pulled into his bullshit. I'm pretty sure he's violating his parole right now. Nick, go away."

Nick looked at Brad with a dirty grin on his face. "Brad, is it? Well, Brad, I'm sure you enjoyed that pussy, but I'm the one that taught that bitch everything. I'm the one who owned it day and night, so you're really just getting sloppy seconds. Or hundredths. Sharing her around was plenty of fun, too, you know. Get her a little high and there's nothing she won't do."

Brad felt the hairs on his arms stand on end. He wanted nothing more than to punch Nick's lights out.

"Close the door, Brad. He's not going to do something stupid and force his way in, are you Nick?" Taylor pulled on Brad's arm, trying to get him to move.

In all honesty, Brad would prefer flexing his muscles some more, if he knew it would scare the guy off, but the crazy vibes coming from the stranger meant he wouldn't stop at a simple fist fight. Taylor seemed to be fine; there was no need to prolong this interaction.