Caught in a Chase

50 - Without Me

To avoid thinking about Chelsea, I threw myself into work. Going through the songs people had asked me to feature on, I picked a couple and was crafting verses.

"No, it's gotta be smoother than that," I told Denaun and headed into the booth to redo the vocals.

After listening to the latest take, I shook my head. "It's still not right."

Denaun leaned back in his chair and made dying sounds.

"Shut the fuck up."

"Man, ya gotta take a break!"

"No."

"Ya gonna work yourself to death?" he asked.

"Maybe."

"Wanna go over to Bobby's tonight and watch the game? He's having a bunch of people over."

"No."

"Come on! You need to do something besides work."

"Leave me alone," I muttered.

"She's gone dawg. Ya can't stop living."

"You don't think I know she's fucking gone?" I yelled standing up, fists clenched. "It's all I think about alright? Get off my fucking back!"

I grabbed my bag and stormed out of the studio.

Music blaring, I started to drive home. Fucking Porter. He didn't understand.

Glancing at the clock I realized I could catch Chelsea leaving the literacy centre if I hurried. I needed to see her.

I parked just as she walked out of the centre with a man. Who the fuck was that? Another volunteer? A parent of one of the kids? Or was she moving on without me?

As I watched, they stood talking. Chelsea gave a little wave and started to walk away. The guy reached forward and pulled her into a hug. I gripped the steering wheel.

What the hell? Don't you fucking touch her!

Chelsea walked away as I stared after the guy. I wanted to fuck him up, tell him to stay away from her. But I couldn't. She wasn't mine anymore.

I rubbed my hands over my face. This wasn't healthy, even by my fucked up standards. Sighing I pulled out my phone.

     M: U still going to Bobby's?

     D: Yup

     M: Meet u there

Ten minutes after arriving, I knew it was a mistake to come.

I'd grabbed a soda from the kitchen and wandered into the living room. Leaning against the back wall, I kept a low profile while seeing who all was here. Most people I knew, a couple I didn't and some girls.

There was a tug on my sleeve and I turned to find a brunette busting out of a tiny Patriots t-shirt.

"Aren't you Eminem?" she giggled.

"Yeah," I said, looking away.

"I'm a huge fan," she said, rubbing against my arm slightly.

"Thanks," I said, not looking at her.

"Looks like he's not a Patriots fan, sweetie. Better luck next time."

I looked over to see a redhead making shooing motions at the brunette.

"Um...okay," she said and walked towards to the couches looking confused.

I hid a smile. It was the kind of sarcastic comment Chelsea would have made.

"Thanks," I said to the woman. She was striking with pale skin and brown eyes. I wondered if the red hair was real or dyed.

"No problem," she said.

"I'm Marshall."

"Ivy," she smiled. "Nice to meet you."

"So was that a one-off? Or you gonna protect me the rest of the night?" I joked.

"Do you need protecting?"

"Sometimes," I nodded.

"We'll see," she said and walked off as the game started.

Ivy did help me later when the Patriots girl tried again at halftime. I started to relax.

"You like football?" I asked.

"Of course! Greatest game ever," Ivy said.

We chatted about our favourite players and teams. It was kinda cool. Chelsea never understood football.

"So where do your people shooing skills come from?" I asked.

"I'm a high school English teacher," she confessed. "Crowd control is part of the gig."

"You don't look like any teacher I had," I smirked. "Or I might have paid more attention."

"Naughty students are my specialty," she winked. "I'm gonna grab another drink. Want anything?"

"Nah, I'm good. Thanks." I said and then watched Ivy walk away. Not bad.

"Ya having fun?" Denaun asked, walking over.

"It's not terrible," I admitted.

"See you met someone," he grinned. "Back on the horse again?"

"No," I frowned. "What am I gonna do if she asks for my number?"

"Give it to her?" Denaun laughed. "Giddy up!"

"I don't know man..."

"The best way to get over someone, is to get under someone else," he says, squeezing my shoulder.

Was that the best way though? More women, more problems had always been my experience. And did I even want to start something new? I was still stalking my ex-girlfriend.

In the end, I decided to leave it up to fate. If the home team won, I'd ask for her number or give her mine if she asked. If the visiting team won, I wouldn't ask for her number or give her mine.

Of course shit came down to the last play of the game. Ivy came over and leaned against the wall beside me.

"Maybe I could get your number," Ivy said. "You know, in case you need protecting in the future?"

"Hold on," I said. "Gotta see how this ends."

I watched the final play, not rooting for either outcome. But the home team pulled out a win in the last seconds.

I turned back to Ivy. "Let me give you my number."

She looked surprised and handed over her phone. I entered my number and passed it back.

"Thanks for running interference tonight. Maybe we can hang out again." I said.

I found Denaun, said good night and left.

A couple days later I was finishing up a recording in the studio when my phone buzzed.

     I: It's Ivy. Are u staying safe?

What the fuck? It took me a minute to remember who Ivy was and connect the text to our conversation at Bobby's. It wasn't the wittiest opening. Chelsea would have done better.

     M: Holding my own, thanks

I set my phone down went back to mixing the recording when it buzzed again.

"Who's texting you dawg?" Denaun asked.

"No one," I said.

"The chick from other night? The redhead?"

"Yeah."

"What she want?"

I shrugged, moving a couple dials. He grabbed my phone and read the text out loud.

"Wanna come over for dinner? I'm a great cook."

I ignored him. Until I heard keys clicking.

"What the fuck ya doing?" I yelled, grabbing for my phone. He hit send then handed it back.

"Helping you out man."

I was still reading what he'd sent, when her reply came through.

     M: Where and when?

     I: Great! Sat 6:00 Can't wait!!!

She sent her address in another text.

I groaned. Now I either had a date or I looked like a jerk saying my friend texted her.

"You're an asshole!" I shouted at Porter.

"You're welcome," he smiled. "I'm outta here. Don't work too late. Gotta rest up for your date tomorrow."

I debated all night whether to cancel or go. In the end, I decided to go. It was just dinner. Then I could bail.

Ivy opened the door and ushered me in. It smelled good.

"I hope you like lasagna," she said.

"Love it," I said.

"Good. Come on in and have a seat."

She led me into the kitchen where she'd set her table with place mats and flowers. We made small talk while she took out the lasagna out of the oven and made a salad. Then we sat down to eat.

"I'm curious," she said. "Do you date much?"

I felt myself stiffen. What did she mean by that?

"You don't have to answer. I was just thinking it must be hard for you," she said.

"Yeah," I nodded. "I uh, just got out of a relationship actually."

"Ah, that explains it," Ivy nodded.

"What?" I asked.

"You seem, I don't know... Like you're going through the motions but your heart's not in it?"

I played with my fork while I thought about how to respond.

"It's okay," Ivy said. "I understand."

"Thanks," I said.

"She must have been pretty special," Ivy said.

"She is," I said, then cleared the lump in my throat. I didn't want to talk about Chelsea with another girl.

"This lasagna is great. Where'd you get the recipe?" I asked, changing the subject.

We finished dinner and she suggested watching a movie. Moving into the other room we sat on the couch and went though the movies available on demand.

She liked superhero movies and agreed with everything I suggested. No teasing about my adolescent taste. No bargaining over different selections.

Ivy started the movie and I settled back.

After about ten minutes Ivy leaned against my shoulder. Then her hand was on my thigh. I looked over at her. Slowly she ran a hand along my cheek.

"I can help you forget her," she whispered.

Pulling me towards her, our lips met. I tried to relax into the kiss.

Part of me reasoned Porter was right. The best way to get over someone is under someone new. Chelsea was gone and not coming back. Ivy was here and willing. No reason I shouldn't fuck her.

But as Ivy's tongue slipped into my mouth, I knew I didn't want to do this. She'd been right earlier, I was just going through the motions. I doubted I could even get it up right now.

Pushing Ivy back, I stood and shoved my hands in my pockets.

"Sorry. I can't do this. Not yet."

She studied me for a moment before smiling. "Okay. I can wait."

I nodded and left.

Laying in bed alone, I thought about Ivy. She was pretty and seemed nice enough. I could do worse in terms of a rebound. Fuck, I had done worse. A lot worse.

But it was hard to accept hamburger after you'd had steak.

Reaching for my phone, I pulled up pictures of Chelsea. Smiling and rolling her eyes at something I'd said. Several pics of us together trying to take a decent selfie and laughing. A picture I'd taken of her reading without her knowing. A titty shot I'd convinced her to send me. And one I'd snapped of her when she came, eyes closed and mouth open.

A girl loving on me failed to get my dick hard, but looking at pictures of Chelsea did. I reached down into my boxers. Stroking myself I flipped through the pictures again.

Eyes closed, I began pulling harder and imagined slamming into her from behind. How good she felt on my dick, her moans as she pushed back against me. I remembered cumming inside her as I came in my hand.

After cleaning up, I climbed back into bed and fell asleep desperately wishing Chelsea was here.