It was hard to say no, to Oliver. Bex couldn't. Besides it felt their one night together could have been a week. And it was Saturday night.
"We should go to that CD party. My friend who works at the radio station has been bugging me about it." It wasn't Sunday yet. Besides, maybe Dayton would forget and stay another night with Chris in Kansas City. Anyway, Oliver wasn't letting her think about that. They had a kiss for everything. A kiss before she went to the kitchen. When she came out of the bathroom. Just checking the mail, even before they could start the car or turn the engine off. Kiss. Kissing. Heavy duty French kissing.
She'd never made out so much in public before and it was with Oliver and it just made her smile more. Bex wasn't looking at the world around her. Just their world and it swirled around and around and it felt dreamy and warm, and before she knew it- they were on the floor in her livingroom going at it.
Bex knew what a good fuck was now. Not a bad one. Fuck could be a beautiful word, after all. Funny how the word tingled on her lips like a whisper now. How did he make her whole body pulsate like that even after the event was over? She felt amazingly weak yet strong.
"Lets go to this fuck'n cd party." But they were late and they couldn't find her underwear and there only seemed to be one dress in the closet to wear. She didn't want to think what was happening to her clothes.
And there Oliver was in classic black tuxedo pants.
"Where did those come from?"
"I dunno. I guess they're yours," Oliver said with a shrug. She couldn't think of those being Dayton's. He was just a jeans and T-shirt kind of guy. Oliver was wearing a pink shirt of her's too. She just looked at him like he was a dream. And come Monday it would all dissolve in thin air.
She was wearing her white halter dress. It felt more like a night gown, somehow. Possibly it was the lack of under garments.
"Are you wearing underwear?" She asked him right before they walked into the art gallery.
"No, were we suppose too?"
"It wasn't on the invitation," Bex smiled.
"Well then," Oliver kissed her neck from behind. Then she introduced him to her friend who introduced them to her friends.
The whole time Oliver never let go, or was it she never let go?
Bex would see someone friendly toward Oliver, a cute guy, a flirtatious look from anyone and she was there, hugging him close, kissing him. Really, it was a waste of time being here.
"But we got a free cd," Oliver said, packing the twelve song package in his pocket.
"They sound like crap," she whispered.
He put his index finger on her lips and smiled. Then pulled her to the dance floor so they could dance close even if it was for punk rockers.
"What have you done to Bex?" Her friend finally shouted at him as if Oliver had drugged her and used some sort of mind control on her.
"What?" Oliver winced. He did have Bex hanging all over him, who suddenly wanted to punch her friend, Nancy.
"Now, now, ladies, please, must we?" Oliver grabbed Bex's fist before she could do any harm. "She's just fine."
"Did you break up with Dayton?" Nancy seriously wanted an answer.
Bex felt sleep coming on. Possibly, it was the champagne or the memory of fucking Oliver in the women's powder room on the bright red cushions that matched her bright red lipstick.
"Yes, yes, I have." Bex smiled. "I'm done with him."
"But you've known Dayton since high school. He's been your boyfriend forever." Nancy reminded her.
"Is he OK?"
"Fuck, if I know." There went the fist again. Oliver to the rescue. He hugged her and they walked away. The night felt almost damaged, but not quiet.
"Maybe the word fuck isn't such a good word to use around your friend," Oliver said. Perhaps it was time for coffee. But Bex felt liberated. Why did she have to care about Dayton?