The Ex-Lovers Ch. 04

Note: This chapter relies on previous events so it is definitely not meant to stand on its own. Feedback welcome.

*****

"So I was thinking," said Ben, "about last night."

It was windy and overcast on the first of November, and as Ben glanced at his girlfriend (for just over six months), he noticed a stubborn trace of black eyeliner around her hazel eyes, left over from the party the night before.

Hannah didn't say anything. She wasn't smiling, but she had her arm around his and they were walking shoulder to shoulder down the autumn street.

"Last night," Ben said again. "I'm sorry we fought."

Hannah turned away and scanned the street, looking idly at the world around her. Finally, about ten steps later, she nodded. "Me too."

"No, really—I shouldn't have stormed off—"

"Forget it. Let's just forget it happened. We were both pretty drunk."

They stopped and kissed, put their arms around each other and kissed again. Pedestrians passed on the sidewalks bundled up in coats, coming in and out of shops and restaurants. Ben scanned the street and an idea came to him.

"Sean's Bar," he said. "We haven't been there in ages. What do you think, Hannah? Hair of the dog?"

"You know," said Hannah, "I think you can read my mind."

Even this early in the afternoon, the bar was filling with people in gold and blue team gear ordering pitchers and talking football over loud music. Ben and Hannah sighed and gave each other a sideways glance.

"How could we forget?"

"I'm still a little hung over."

"Ugh, me too."

"Just one beer and let's go."

They nodded and crossed toward the bar, picking their way through people. At the back of the line, Hannah saw a man in a light grey button-down dress shirt, slightly taller than Ben, with neatly trimmed black hair in a classic tapered cut. He was tapping his foot and holding an empty pitcher, and the next second, he turned his head slightly to look up at the clock on the wall.

Hannah seized Ben's arm and held him back. "Oh my God," she said in a loud whisper. "Let's wait a minute." Ben turned and Hannah tilted her head at the man in line. "It's my ex."

Ben blurted, a little louder than he intended, "Who—the asshole?"

"No, the—" Hannah looked at the man and as if trying to decide what to say. "The photographer."

"It's okay," said Ben, studying the man. "You know, it's no big deal."

"Let's go sit down. There's wait staff."

Ben hesitated for a moment then allowed Hannah to pull him away. Inwardly, though he'd never admit it aloud, Ben felt oddly approving of the photographer; the man was well-dressed and obviously handsome. So the woman he loved had high standards and good taste, in men and everything else. If it has to be anyone, he thought, at least he isn't a loser.

"Well, well, well," he teased Hannah. "Maybe I should go laugh in his face."

"Hey!" she laughed. "You said it was fine. Let's go see if we know anyone."

They went into the other room, further away from the televisions. Wood tables lined the red brick walls with black vinyl barstools beside them. The pool table had been covered over and people were standing around it chatting happily. Empty glasses were scattered around the room; a cute ginger waitress shuttled about collecting them and taking about a dozen drink orders in the process.

Hannah scanned the room. Most of the tables were occupied, except for a six-person table in the back that only had one person at it. She was an Indian woman in her 20s in a tight teal kurti with three-quarter sleeves. The waitress stopped at the table and tried to take two empty pint glasses—but the woman stopped her and went back to leafing through a spiral notebook in front of her.

"I don't think there's a table," said Hannah.

"Hold up," said Ben, looking from the waitress back to the woman at the table. "Come on."

Ben flagged the waitress down, ordered drinks and headed deeper into the room.

"I don't feel like standing," said Hannah. "You think she'll let us share the table?"

Ben laughed. "Totally. Hey, Esha!" he exclaimed.

The Indian woman looked up and her face brightened as she smiled back. "Ben! Oh my God! How are you?"

Hannah did a double take. Ben walked up to the table, where the woman stood and gave him a quick hug. "I haven't seen you in forever," said Ben.

"Longer for me than you," Esha replied, her voice lilting almost acrobatically.

"You know each other?" asked Hannah.

Ben waved her closer to him. "Esha, this is my girlfriend Hannah. Hannah, this is Esha. Esha's a grad student; she works on—what's it called again—"

"I don't even want to think about it," Esha said, lightly tossing the notebook aside. "Pleased to meet you, Hannah." Esha held out her hand.

Hannah checked her surprise and the women shook hands. A row of delicate silvery bangles chimed on Esha's slender wrist.

Her long black hair fell around her in neat strands and wreathed her face—along with a single thin braid pushed behind her ear and half a dozen silver piercings. She wore no makeup, apart from a hint of lip gloss and a little bit of dark eyeliner that brought out the contrast of white and black in her eyes. Her skin was moderately fair, like milk and sugar poured into black chai.

"Pleased to meet you," Hannah echoed, still taken aback. "Esha—what a beautiful name!"

"Thanks," Esha said politely, but her eyes flickered over to Ben with a subtle smirk.

Hannah pressed on. "So, tell me, how do you two know each other?"

Ben shook his head at the old memory, while Esha's smile broke into fond laughter. "Oh, a very long story...but simply put, Ben's ex-girlfriend, Jane, was my flatmate."

"I'm sorry to hear that," said Hannah, and her hand flew to her mouth. "Oh, excuse me—I didn't mean to say—"

"Oh, Hannah—don't worry!" laughed Esha, in her posh accent. "Jane was quite an impossible person to live with. She rusticated poor Ben here and gossiped to everyone about me. That's why Ben and I are still friends."

"Damn, Ben, how come we've never had Esha over for dinner? I don't even think you've mentioned Esha before."

"Of course I did," said Ben. "Last week. I just don't think I've even hung out with Esha since I met you."

"Typical boy," said Esha.

"Last week? When?"

"Yeah, you were talking about, you know—your ex? You asked me...?"

Hannah's eyes went wide the moment she understood, but she quickly changed the subject. "We're running into everyone today. I just saw an old boyfriend. I didn't want Ben to get jealous and start throwing punches so we ducked in here."

"Well, you're welcome to take refuge here. Not a bad breakup, I hope. Please—" Esha said, gesturing to the chairs to invite Hannah and Ben to sit.

Hannah sat by the wall, catercorner to Esha, and shook her head. "It was a pretty casual thing, you know? I only broke it off because I wanted to get serious with Ben—six months, last week."

"Really? Congratulations," said Esha, smiling. She nudged Ben with her elbow. "Six months—Ben, no wonder you disappeared on me." Esha took a sip of her beer and looked back to Hannah. "I, er, met someone too. I don't know how official we are, but my fellow has been with me for a few months now. I'm not very used to dating, I suppose."

"I don't remember you ever having a boyfriend," said Ben.

"I want to see how long I can hold out," said Esha.

"Seriously?" asked Hannah. "You're not exclusive?"

"Well," replied Esha, fidgeting in her seat, "I mean, we don't see other people, but—I have my work, and he works a lot, so—we keep it simple."

As Hannah congratulated her, Ben looked across the room. The man in the grey shirt was crossing the floor carrying a pitcher of beer. "Hey—Hannah. Look who's coming. I think he's coming to say hi."

"Actually," said Esha in her polished, even accent. "Taylor's with me."

"Oh...my," said Hannah. "Where the hell are our drinks?"

* * *

As Esha's story ended, a chorus of laughter went up around the table. Her skin was fair enough to flush with a tinge of embarrassment, but she was smiling wickedly. "It was not funny then, I'll tell you," she said, gulping down the end of her beer.

Taylor wiped his eyes, took her glass and poured out what was left of their third pitcher. "Well, priya," he said, "It is hilarious now."

"Jesus, Ben, what were you thinking?" asked Hannah.

"It wasn't Ben's fault," said Esha. "Ben kind of had to tell Jane. It was Jane, not him, who bloody spread it around to everyone. And anyway I should have been more discreet in the first place."

"What?" Hannah protested. Sisterly solidarity, mixed with a few pints of beer, had drawn sympathy. "It's your house, you have every right—" Hannah reached across the table and slapped Ben's hand.

"No, really. I kind of left it out of the story, but when Ben walked in, you know, he saw a lot."

"Say the fuck what?" said Taylor. "How much 'a lot'?"

Esha smiled to herself, and covered her eyes. Across the table, Hannah and Taylor both oohed scandalously, and before Esha could protest, Ben replied, "Hey, Esha, you've got something just here—" and he tickled her cheek with his forefinger.

"Oh. My. God," gasped Hannah. "NO."

"Ben!" Esha cried, and slapped the back of his hand. "He did not—!" She lowered her voice and hissed, "It was not on my face."

Ben shrugged and began to reach toward Esha's breasts; she slapped his hand. "Anyway," he said, "it was fucking hilarious. And I scrambled out of there so fucking fast."

Esha jabbed Ben's shoulder playfully. "Hilarious for you, maybe."

"Hmm," said Taylor. "So let me get this straight, Ben. You mean we've both seen both of these beautiful women—"

Esha and Hannah shouted him down, but Ben got halfway out of his chair. He laughed and his voice rose over the girls' and the steadily increasing noise of the bar. "Indeed, my friend, yes indeed!"

Taylor threw out a fist over the table, and Ben nodded and slowly put out his own fist. Hannah grabbed Taylor's hand, Esha grabbed Ben's, but the two boys resisted, pulled their hands away and managed to bump fists.

"Oh no," said Hannah, pushing strands of blonde hair away from her eyes. "No way. I will not have two men I slept with bumping fists."

"Neither will I!" agreed Esha.

The two women broke out in laughter again. Taylor's eyes were huge. "Really?"

Hannah broke in quickly. "Really! Didn't you know? Benjamin and Miss Esha here had a little scandal of their own."

"How could I have known?"

"Ben told me last week."

"What, just in conversation?"

She looked Taylor straight in the eyes and shook her head coyly. "Huh-uh."

"Oh, come on," Taylor replied. "Now you've got to spill."

"Okay..." she said. "I, uh, make him talk dirty to me." Following her declaration, she arched her shoulders and drank her beer. "He talks dirty while he fucks me."

"Now that," said Taylor, "I'd like to see."

And it was then, at their most perfect awkward moment together, that the football pregame on TV went to commercial and Esha, Taylor, Ben and Hannah found themselves staring at each other in total quiet.

"Let's..." said Esha, "let's do something fun. Let's get out of here."

* * *

Taylor detoured to pick up beer at the Beverage Depot on 7th, while Esha went with Hannah back to Ben's apartment. While they waited, Ben tried to give Esha a tour.

"I love what you've done with the place, Hannah," Esha said with a laugh. "The last time I visited—let's just say this was quite the bachelor pad."

Hannah smiled. "The bare walls?"

"In every room," agreed Esha. "Ben needed some serious help."

"Hey!"

"I'm glad he was able to find you," said Esha. Following Hannah, she turned the corner into the bedroom. The bed was covered in a fresh, inviting off-white duvet. Hannah's old nightstand had joined the décor, and above it hung the portrait of Hannah, nude in the water.

"You really have been decorating," said Esha. "Hannah, that's a nice portrait."

"I gave it to Ben for his birthday," Hannah said. She instantly wondered if this made her look like a narcissist, and added, "I mean, he asked for it. I didn't just make him put it up." Then she confessed, "Actually, this is one of Taylor's."

"Really?" Esha shifted her weight uncomfortably and searched for something to say. "He's been trying to get me to pose for him. You know, his art photography. I wasn't sure if he was serious or just wanted naughty pictures."

"Taylor is a great photographer. We went out to Devil Rock and I got to help him with his landscape stuff. And I agreed to model a little bit too."

Ben stifled a laugh, but not quickly enough to stop Esha and Hannah from hearing. Hannah shushed him theatrically, and Esha tutted. "Ben, be fair. Taylor was lucky to get such a pretty model."

"Thank you, Esha. You want to see some more?"

* * *

Despite Ben's secret hopes, Hannah didn't show or mention her nude photos, and the laptop got put away as soon as Taylor arrived. He'd brought back pizza along with more beer and the four of them spent a few hours playing video games, chatting, drinking and laughing. The evening wore on and drew to a close. After the door closed behind Taylor and Esha, Hannah bolted it, lowered the lights and guided Ben to the overstuffed red chair and sat him down in it with a slow kiss.

"What a night. I mean, what a fucking coincidence," said Ben. Hannah padded off down the hallway to their bedroom to change. Ben spoke a little louder, his voice following her. "I can't believe the two of them are together. It was so cool to run into them like that. It wasn't even awkward. Well, yeah, a little. But what a night, hanging out like that."

Behind him came the small sound of Hannah's dainty bare feet stepping along the plush pile carpet.

"Taylor's a great guy," said Ben. "I actually like him a lot. The four of us should definitely—"

Hannah walked around in front of the chair. She had changed into one of Ben's A-shirts and gold plaid pajamas that hugged her hips and came down just above her shapely calves. She'd taken off her bra and now her nipples showed through the tight white shirt. Ben glanced at the hem of her panties rise over the top of her pajama bottoms and noticed how incredibly flat and tight Hannah's stomach was.

"Gorgeous," said Ben, interrupting himself. "You're totally beautiful." Then he paused and cautiously added, "What did you feel when Esha saw Taylor's photo?"

Hannah didn't make much of a reply. She simply smiled cryptically and shook her head. Then she knelt down, and her hands slid upward along Ben's khakis to take hold of his leather belt. "I'm trying not to think about her at all." Hannah sighed. "I don't know if she's jealous that I got Taylor first or you last."

"She's not a jealous person. Esha's nice."

"That's what I love about you, Ben," smiled Hannah. "You always see the best."

"That's a choice. I'm not blind. Like Taylor. I just said I like him, and I do. But I also see the way he looks at you. I see the way a lot of guys look at you."

"I know," said Hannah. She tucked her hands behind Ben's back and leaned up to kiss him. "He wouldn't do anything though, really. He knows how I feel about you. And—looking at the pictures, tonight. We haven't really talked about them. I think that I never really wanted to be direct about them with you."

"What about them?"

"Well, like, you've always been okay with them, kind of like no big deal."

"They were before we were together."

"That's just it," Hannah sighed. "I need to tell you something." Her voice became a soft tremble. Behind his back, Ben felt her hands gather the material of his shirt as Hannah clutched onto him for reassurance. "It's about last night at the Halloween party...I just want to tell you in case you hear anything."

A lump began to swell in Ben's throat. "You're scaring me."

"It's nothing—it's okay—I mean, I hope it'll be okay. It just might sound worse if you heard it from someone else."

"Okay. I'm listening."

"So you went out all angry and I was standing there alone in the corner, fuming. Getting really worked up, like I was clenching my fist and muttering to myself."

"Yeah, I shouldn't have left you like that. But I needed to clear my head."

"Well, one of the housemates came over and said he liked my costume. We started talking about Journey of the Everlore, and before long he says he's got some replica props in his room he wants to show me."

"You didn't."

"I didn't do anything, I just went upstairs with him."

"Damn it, Hannah."

"Ben, I promise, I wouldn't do that to you. I could tell he was hitting on me, but I only went with him because it was either that and talk about something Journey of the Everlore or stand downstairs by myself being angry at you and talking to myself."

"So, what happened?"

"When I came out of his room, Rachael saw me and kind of gave me a look. I didn't want it getting back to you like I did something and didn't tell you."

"I mean, what happened in the room?"

Hannah looked up at Ben and bit her lip a little. After a few false starts, she chose her words and said, "I'm not going to lie, so I'm just going to spit it out and you can be mad if you want to. We kissed a little and he touched my boob. That was all. I started feeling guilty right away, so I came downstairs to see if you'd come back yet."

"Shit, how long was I gone?"

"Really?" said Hannah, her eyes wide in disbelief. "I tell you I let a guy feel me up and your first question is about the time?" She sighed loudly. "You were gone for like forty-five minutes, Ben. I was alone at that party for a long time. Anyway, I'm sorry. I'm sorry I did it, but that's all I did. Now are you going to—" Hannah checked her voice and brought it down. "I'm sorry. I'm just really sorry. Please forgive me."

"Look," said Ben. "They're your boobs."

"I know that," snapped Hannah. "They're my boobs and you're my boyfriend."

"We both know I was a fucking jerk yesterday. I acted like an asshole."

"That doesn't mean—"

"No, I'm not saying it gives you the right to cheat on me, but it does mean I'm glad you didn't just break up with me. I'm glad you stopped at all. You didn't have to."

"Yeah, but you're not angry? What the hell?"

"Your body, your choice. We fought all day yesterday and I can't do it anymore. I know what this is down to. I either keep my temper or I keep my girlfriend. None of this would have happened if I'd kept a lid on it in the first place."

"Jesus, Benji, you didn't make me do it. Wait...you are angry."

"I'm fucking stupid. I've got this hot, amazing girlfriend, so I yell at her and leave her at a party. I'm angry at myself."

"I'm sorry, Ben," said Hannah. She kissed his cheek. "I'm sorry it happened. I'll never do it again. I love you."

"I love you, too, and I'm sorry I lost my temper." Ben brushed a blonde curl back over Hannah's ear. She kissed him again, and again, and though they'd kissed a dozen times or more that day, Hannah felt like Ben was kissing her for the first time all over again.

She tugged Ben out of the chair and pushed his shoulders gently to the carpet. Ben caressed her breasts, emphasized by hanging over his chest, through the ribbed undershirt and felt her crinkled nipples. Hannah moaned slightly as she straddled him, but forced herself to sit up on his legs and begin opening his belt.

Without wanting to, Ben found himself wondering about Hannah and the stranger from the party. "We talk about other people, sometimes, when we fuck," he said quickly.

Hannah murmured agreement as she opened Ben's jeans and began to rub his stiffening member.

"I know we talk about them," Ben continued, "but do you ever, you know...think about them? During? Do you ever want someone else?"