HATING THE BEST MAN (Hating Him #2)

2. Rolling the Dice

Chapter Two

Rolling the Dice

It's like gambling somehow. You go out for a night of drinking and you don't know where you’re going to end up the next day. It could work out good or it could be disastrous. It's like the throw of the dice…

– Jim Morrison

ELENA LEXINGTON

“What’s up, Elle?” Kat says on the other line when she picks up.

I balk, almost tripping over a moving box at the sound of her voice. Her cheery tone is still so shocking to me, and I can’t get over how much she’s changed in such a short amount of time. My little sister is happy… and I’m over the moon about it.

“I, uh… Nothing, I guess… I... can’t really remember…” I stammer. “Kat, I don’t know… I just got thrown off. I can’t believe how fantastic you sound.”

She giggles—actually giggles—on the other end. “That’s because I am. I am fantastic. How are you, Elle?”

“Me? I’m fan-f*****g-tastic. Mom has been calling me all day and night about what we should do for Ana’s graduation celebration, and you know how much I love it when she does that. Ted has been sending me letters, threatening to kidnap our dog because he’s still bitter about our break-up. Let’s see… Oh, yeah… I’m leaving the only home I’ve ever known to move to a city where I know no one and my sister and her fiancé have to financially support me… On the whole? I’d say that life is just swell.”

Kat laughs, recognizing my sarcasm for the humor-laden façade that it is.

“Yeah, it sounds really great.” Her laugh tapers off into a quick, mirthless silence.

“Look, Elle… I know that you’re nervous, but believe me; there isn’t anything to be nervous about. Brendon and I are just here to help until you get on your feet. That’s it.”

She sighs. “There’s nothing left for you in Memphis, and you know it.”

I grow silent over the phone, nearly knocking over another box. I nod as if she can see me. She’s right. There’s nothing left for me here. Not a job. Not a relationship. Not a life…

It’s all gone to s**t.

The dance studio where I worked is shutting down. My ex-boyfriend Ted is trying to ruin my life. And my two best friends in the world—my sisters—have escaped to the sunny state of Florida where the only connection we’ve managed to have with each other over the past few months has been through AT&T wireless.

This isn’t the sort of life I’d envisioned.

So, I’m going out on a limb, embarking on a fresh start—heading to Tampa.

I’m selling my house and using part of the profit to open up a dance studio—my own dance studio—where I can dance and teach without worrying about someone else closing down on me.

With all the disappointment happening for me in Memphis, I’m starting to recognize the importance of venturing out, making a change. Kat did it… and look how well it ended up for her.

She’s obtained her ideal… the man, the money and the profession. Now, all that’s left is to ensure that she has the ideal wedding.

And that’s where I come in.

The engagement party—the wedding.

You only get one chance, just one time to do it right. If all goes well, there will only be one wedding in Kat’s future.

And I am going to make sure that my little sister has the celebration of her dreams… if I have to kill myself (or Lukas) to do it.

LUKAS

“What do you know about Elena?” I say, adjusting my tie.

“Elena? Kat’s sister?”

“Yeah. That Elena. Why? You know another one?”

Chris adjusts his sleeves in the mirror, turning around to check out his lapels.

“Nothing much—just what Foxx has told me… which isn’t a lot.”

I stiffen, staring pointedly at Chris. He catches my look, glancing quickly at the other customers in the tuxedo shop.

“What? Griff, I don’t know what you want me to say. I know the same things you know. Nothing.”

I frown, smoothing out my tuxedo jacket. Chris knows nothing. I know nothing. And I have to come face-to-face with this girl in one week.

I know Chris isn’t lying. Foxx wouldn’t reveal much to me, either. When I asked him about Elena, he blew me off for the most part, warning me to stay away from her. “Stay away from her.” What the f**k did Foxx think I was going to do? f**k her from five hundred miles away?

I promptly told him that I wouldn’t touch Elena with a ten-foot pole. And I wouldn’t… but I am curious. Over two and a half months of talking to this phantom voice—and I have no idea what the face behind it looks like.

Her pitch is deeper than her sister’s. Her laugh is husky and low. When I first spoke to her on the phone, I was intrigued. I “Googled” her name. I found nothing. I’ve been in the dark ever since. I don’t even know her age…

“Hey!” Chris says, snapping fingers near my face. “I’ve been talking to you.”

His face is as red as his strawberry-blonde hair, and he looks huffy and flustered in his pre-tailored tux. I almost laugh at his sudden outrage.

We make an odd pairing, he and I. Where he has pale skin and red hair, I have a tanned coloring and deep brown hair, almost black. His stature, while not short, appears Hobbit-sized because of his poor posture. I, on the other hand, am built strong and long at six-one. Chris places a hand on my shoulder.

“Get your head in the game, Griff. I need your opinion on this tux. I’ve gotta go. Lunch is almost up, and I’ve got a meeting with an editor at two o’clock.”

I sigh. I wish that Chris were handling this party planning with Elena; I really do. But with Tripping Out! keeping his hours long and his temper short, I’m the only one left to oversee the party. And if you ask Elena, I’m not doing such a bang-up job of even that.

“So, how’s the party going, anyway?” Chris asks, intuitively.

“Ha.” I unhook the buttons at my cuffs. “Don’t ask. This planning’s turning into a major f*****g pain.”

He shakes his head, shrugging out of his own jacket. “You know what’s even more of a pain? Ex-girlfriends showing up…”

I grin. “Which one of your former headaches is showing up to the engagement party?”

“Well, that’s the thing,” he grimaces. “I’m not talking about me. I’m talking about you.”

“Me? I’m the headache?”

“No… but you might have one at the party. I hear Trina’s trying to come.”

The color drains from my face. Trina.

My ex/”non-ex” Trina—the last girl I had any sort of “relationship” with.

Trina was fun when I met her—sexy and breezy—but when I decided that what we were having wasn’t working for me, she flipped, turning from a dream-come-true into a clingy nightmare.

I heard she had been dabbling in the Tampa druggie scene lately, but I’m not very inclined to believe it. Trina’s never been that type of girl. Or at least, she wasn’t…

I shake the notion off.

Doesn’t matter.

Considering how small the Tampa social circle is, I’m sure that every woman who hates me in this state—plus a few who aren’t—will be at this party. Including one face-less, humor-less dragon herself…

Saturday night rolls around and for the second week in a row, I waver between whether or not to hit the downtown bars.

Chris refuses to hang out any later than midnight, and the run-in with the Roofie/X/God-knows-what pill has me on edge about picking up any new women. I could easily visit some of my old haunts—both women and pubs, but I’m over those scenes. I’m bored. I need something different for a change.

I pull out my laptop while in my bed, searching for any new Tampa bars, when I get pinged on my Skype. I glance at the alarm clock near my bed. It’s past eleven on a Saturday. Who the hell could be hitting me up now?

I open the message.

Elle-Lexy:

Where are you? I’ve been calling your phone all night and getting no answer. I want to talk to you about the music for the party.

Elena. What in the world…? How the f**k did this girl get my Skype information?

I type a quick response.

LukasGriff:

Phone’s off. Chris has been a bug up my ass, and I needed the peace. And, frankly, you’re disrupting it. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.

Elle-Lexy:

Fine. Have it your way. But you’ll be taking a chance on the music selection. If the whole night winds up being one big melody of One Direction songs, don’t say I didn’t warn you.

Shit. She wouldn’t do that just to spite me, would she?

Yes. Yes, she would.

LukasGriff:

Jesus. No. Hell no, Elena. This is a party. A party. You can’t torture half of the guests.

Elle-Lexy:

No, I wouldn’t want to, but I’m getting overwhelmed here. So, if you want your crappy ass Coldplay songs to get included in the playlists, I suggest you find some time to discuss them with the DJ and me.

Coldplay? Who said anything about Cold…? Kat. Kat must’ve told her.

LukasGriff:

Fine. I’ve got a couple of minutes to talk. Go ahead.

I lean back against my headboard, readjusting my boxer briefs as I settle in. It’s barely 11:30PM, and already my night has gone to s**t.

Elena and I manage to come up with a playlist for the party, and while the party is definitely a black-tie affair, we come up with enough lively music and classics to keep the event fun, but respectable.

The bad part of it? It doesn’t take a few minutes; it takes an hour, and I’m not even dressed. My Saturday night is nearly sunk. Of course, I blame Elena.

LukasGriff:

Looks like you’ve got what you wanted, Elena. You’ve f****d up another Saturday night.

Frankly, it isn’t all her fault, but I don’t give a s**t right now. I’m pissed. And horny. At this rate, it doesn’t look like I’ll get to f**k tonight—and I don’t ever go this long without f*****g. Ever.

Elle-Lexy:

Oh, f**k your Saturday nights, Lukas. One night without bar-hopping and bed-hopping won’t kill you.

I freeze.

LukasGriff:

Care to tell me how you know so much about me?

Elle-Lexy:

I know a lot about you, Lukas. More than you think…

My eyes narrow at the screen. She’s f*****g with me… and I don’t like it. Elena seems to know quite a bit about me, and I know f*****g zilch about her.

Is she blonde? Brunette? What color are her eyes? I try to imagine her face, her body. My thoughts begin to wander. Is she petite? Tall? Curvy?

My c**k twitches briefly.

LukasGriff:

I see…Why do you care?

I pull my laptop further onto my lap, watching impatiently for her response. A minute passes before she answers.

Elle-Lexy:

I don’t. I just want to make sure that I can count on you.

LukasGriff:

You can… as long as you don’t play any One Direction at the party.

Elle-Lexy:

I would never. Besides… Justin Beiber’s more my style.

I laugh out loud, shaking my head.

LukasGriff:

You’re really asking for it…

Elle-Lexy:

Asking for what?

LukasGriff:

It. Payback. Punishment.

Several seconds pass before she responds.

Elle-Lexy:

What kind of punishment?

The words catch me off-guard… and I shift uncomfortably from where I sit, staring intently at the screen. This is something I didn’t expect…

On the outside, Elena’s question seems straightforward, innocent—but there’s something deeper in the sub-context. Something darker. Something erotic.

The twitch in my c**k becomes a leap, and the tightness in my boxer briefs turns from awkward into painful. I pull on the front of them, shifting my hard-on to a more comfortable spot – as if that were even possible. I stare at the blinking cursor for several more seconds.

I go for it.

LukasGriff:

I’d bend you over my bed. Pin your hands to the mattress. I’d stand behind you and show you just how hard punishment can be when you misbehave…

I stop typing, and I can hear nothing but the sound of my own breathing as I wait for her reply.

I wait… and wait…

Suddenly, it pops up.

Elle-Lexy:

How hard?

My chest starts heaving the minute I read her words. I take my d**k out of boxers and palm it in one hand, stroking it gently before placing my hands back on the keyboard.

LukasGriff:

HARD, Elena. So hard.

I’d push your panties to the side and slam into you. I’d pump you over and over again until you apologized. Until your p***y couldn’t take anymore. Until you came all over my c**k.

And even when you’d beg, I wouldn’t stop. I’d keep punishing you. Because that’s what happens to bad, disobedient girls. They get punished.

I finish the last sentence with one hand, using the other to pump a closed fist over my shaft. I imagine that my hand is Elena’s p***y, and that I’m slamming into her again and again, punishing her for her testy attitude, for that foul mouth.

Elle-Lexy:

Yeah? And what if I like to be punished?

What if my p***y likes it hard and fast? What if it likes to clench around you? Squeeze you with its wetness while you stroke?

I groan, taking several seconds to pump myself harder. I keep a hand on the keys. I can barely type the words.

LukasGriff:

Even better. I want you wet. Are you wet right now?

Elle-Lexy:

Yes…

LukasGriff:

Is it soaked for me?

Elle-Lexy:

Yes, Lukas

LukasGriff:

Touch it, Elena. Put your fingers inside. Feel how f*****g good you feel.

Elle-Lexy:

I am Lukas. Its so wet. It feels so good

The more we type, the worse the grammar gets. My hands are shaking. I can’t key the words fast enough.

LukasGriff:

I know baby. I know. Feel me baby. Feel me pumping into you.

Elle-Lexy:

I do. And I cant take it. Im about to explode

LukasGriff:

I want you to come. Come for me Elena

Elle-Lexy:

Im coming...

At her words, I come, releasing myself all over my hand with a muffled moan that resonates deep within my gut. I slump against the headboard, feeling spent and utterly satisfied. Mmm… that was the fastest I’ve come in months. Granted, I’ve been sexless for two weeks, and my horniness was at an all-time high, but damn. That was different… and I liked it.

Except now I’m coming down from my high, and reality is sinking in. I just came over Skype with Elena. I just made Elena come. Kat’s sister.

She hates me. Or… she hated me. I don’t know. I don’t know what the f**k is going on… I roll slowly out of the bed, making my way to my sink where I clean up. When I return, there’s a message already waiting.

Elle-Lexy:

I don’t know what the f**k just happened.

I smirk, typing back.

LukasGriff:

I don’t know what the f**k that was, either. But it was good…

Elle-Lexy:

I don’t know. Look, I’ve got to go.

I scowl, tapping rapidly on the keyboard.

LukasGriff:

Wait. Didn’t you still want to talk about the DJ?

Elle-Lexy:

I don’t know…

Ok, yeah, I guess.

Let’s just talk tomorrow.

My shoulders slump. She’s getting weird on me. This isn’t good…

LukasGriff:

Yeah, sure. That’s fine. You know how to reach me.

A few more seconds pass.

Elle-Lexy:

Yeah, I guess I do…

I’ll talk to you later, Lukas.

But I won’t let it end there.

LukasGriff:

One more thing, Elena…

Elle-Lexy:

Yeah?

LukasGriff:

Coldplay isn’t crap. Good night.