Where the hell is she, I wondered. Why did she miss the fucking bus?
Not the most romantic way to be thinking of your one and only love, true, but it's the first thing I remember from that night. The air was getting cooler and there was enough wind to make me huddle up to my coat as I walked towards the street. She was supposed to have been on the bus that had pulled up 20 minutes ago, but there'd been no sign of her. My mood was souring by the minute.
Ah, Gloria. She was so sweet, so loving. It had been her idea to go for a walk in the park together after she was done work, and for her to arrive on her own instead of being picked up as we usually did. She liked the thought of seeing my face light up as her golden hair was swept up in the warm summer air, words of love spilling from my lips as I took her in my arms. I was struggling to keep my mood in the "face lighting up" kind of groove, but it was getting hard. That's why I'd gotten out of the car, to keep from pounding the wheel in frustration. I'd already spilled a sundae on it earlier, it didn't need any more damage.
I'd just decided to go back and check out the bus station where Gloria would be waiting when a voice came out of the night:
"Well well well, look what the cat dragged in."
My heart leaped into my throat at those mocking words. I stumbled back and was about turn tail (parks being bad places to run into strangers, in my book) before I caught myself. I knew that voice...but how could it be?
"V-Vic?" I called out. No response.
"Damnit Vic, is that you?"
Now I could hear movement, soft steps taken out beyond the trees but I could still see nothing. She knew how bad my night vision could be. She used to play games like this, games that led to things that I tried very hard not to think about.
"Look Vic, I'm already in a shitty mood, don't make it worse." Nothing.
Fuck it. I started back towards my car, pulling my keys out as I went. As I went to open the lock I felt arms wrap around me from behind and a body press close to mine.
"Miss me?" she whispered, and bit down on my ear.
"Ow!" I struggled out of her grip. "Stop it, don't touch me like that, you know I'm with...." the words died on my lips as I got a good look at her. She was wearing a leather halter top that zipped up in the front, the zipper down far enough to show off her always impressive chest. Her belly ring was visible above a loosely fitting silk skirt that just covered her thighs. Those knee high boots I remembered so well completed the look.
"You were saying?" she said with a laugh in her eyes, knowing just how I'd react.
"You look..um, I mean I'm with Gloria and we can't do that anymore!" The words were out of my mouth before I remembered the difference between 'can't' and 'won't'.
Before I continue, a little background's in order here. Victoria and I were together for almost a year. She had amazing green eyes that managed to say everything and nothing when you looked into them, black hair down past her shoulders and smooth pale skin. Not a fitness freak like so many are these days, to me her figure was perfect, yielding to my touch in all the right places. She was bright, funny, loved to dance and had a pit bull named Boris. One of the reasons we never lived together was that I figured Boris would eat my poor little cat. I think Boris would have eaten me too if he could; I'm a cat person and he knew it.
It was a year I'd never forget. She introduced me to water bongs and goth bars. She tried to make me a dancer but that never worked, so I watched from the side, beer in hand as she seduced every guy she chose. I can still hear that throbbing beat and remember the conflicting feeling of hating the men she danced with and loving the thought that she'd be coming home with me.
The sex was unbelievable. I was used to uptight, repressed partners who mostly just lay there and waited for me to finish. Victoria was the opposite, an adventurous, insatiable partner who loved both to tease and to satisfy. I would fall asleep exhausted next to her, only to feel her touch in the morning, see that wicked grin as we started again.
Of course, there were drawbacks. I don't think the word "love" was used once in that year. She hated romance, laughed at flowers and liked slasher flicks, the bloodier the better. I'm sure she sounds ideal to many guys out there, but I must be a sensitive soul because it got to me after a while. There was always this nagging feeling that she wouldn't be that upset if I got hit by a truck on my way out of her apartment.
So I wanted more, but I knew I would never get it from her. That led to the inevitable drifting apart, the bloodless break up and the lost contact. I hadn't seen her in six months, and had finally succeeded in not thinking of her - and now this.
God, how I wanted her! I was already hard at the sight of her. Her eyes flicked to my waist, and her smile grew wider; she loved having that effect on me.
"Oh come on now...I don't want your love. I didn't want it then, remember? What's the harm in a little fun? She'll never know..." she took a step towards me.
"Stop!" I was struggling for control. "I'm in love with her, Vic, she's the one for me. We do everything together..."
"Except fuck?" she said with her lips curled.
