Double Lines
Chapter 14. Ethan

POV - Ethan

Approximately four years ago…

I can’t believe it’s her. The girl I noticed two years ago that I’ve seen around campus… it’s her. I remember the first time I saw her, although she doesn’t remember me.

I was walking in the university courtyard when she came out of the library with a pile of heavy books in her hands. She ran into me without looking where she was going, dropping her books on the ground.

“I am so sorry!” she gasps, looking at me. Her beautiful blue eyes sparkled, and her red, plump lips curved into a smile.

“That’s okay,” I said, bending down to help her pick up her books after being momentarily distracted by her eyes. I’m about to tell her my name when she looks up, turning toward someone speaking to her at my left.

“I’m sorry,” she says one more time, grabbing her books and standing up. I watch as the guy who spoke to her wraps his arm around her shoulders and leads her away from me.

I see this girl many times over the next two years of university. Sometimes she is with friends, sometimes she is with him, and sometimes she is alone. Each time she looks more and more beautiful.

I have had a few short relationships since I met her, but in between each one, my thoughts would always turn back to her.

I remember another time I was standing in a bar with my best friend when she walked in. She looked stunning, wearing a black bodycon dress that hugged her curves and heels, making her legs look extra long.

“Ethan. Ethan! Mate! Where did you go?” Declan says, nudging my shoulder.

“Is that her?” he nods, looking in her direction.

“Yeah. That’s her,” I say. My body yearns for her; when I see her, I can’t help myself.

“Go talk to her; replace out her name,” Declan encourages.

“Okay,” I say, taking a step forward. But then he walks towards her, wrapping his arms around her waist. I watch as she turns into his embrace, and they kiss.

“Never mind,” I growl, turning back to my beer.

I met my current girlfriend, Andrea, shortly after that night. Andrea was everything the mysterious woman who haunted my thoughts was not. She was short, reaching my shoulders, with big boobs and small hips. Andrea is also a blonde with shoulder-length hair. My mystery woman has long brown hair and is thin with a curvy peach-shaped butt and small boobs.

Andrea and I have been together for eight months, and I’ve tried to fall in love with her; I really have. But she doesn’t have that ‘pull’ or that ‘spark’ for me. Yes, I guess I was initially attracted to her pretty face and big breasts. Andrea has a pleasant personality. There’s nothing wrong with this; she’s just not ‘it’ for me.

Two weeks ago, I took Andrea to the park where we had first met and sat down with her at a park bench.

“Andrea, this isn’t working,” I say softly. Andrea nods but doesn’t reply. When I look at her, I feel awful. She’s crying, and tears are running down her face.

“Andrea, you are beautiful, but…”

“You don’t love me,” she cuts me off.

“Yeah,” I nod, “I’m sorry.”

Andrea continues to cry, and I feel like such a bastard sitting there and not consoling her. People look in my direction and glare at me, making me feel worse.

“Please, Ethan, please, give us a chance! I promise I will try to be better; I will do whatever you want; I want to make you happy; please don’t break up with me,” she begs.

“I’m sorry, but it’s not you. You’re perfect, Andrea, just… not for me,” I tell her.

“Please, could we… maybe… try an open relationship? I don’t want to lose you!” Andrea implores. I shake my head.

“No, Andrea, I can’t. I can’t do that. I’m sorry.”

“Please, Ethan? Please?” she begs. I shake my head and don’t say anything. I can tell Andrea is staring at me, burning holes in my head, but I refuse to look. I feel awful, but she’s not the one I want.

“Fine!” Andrea huffs after a while. I nod and am about to get up when she puts her hand on my shoulder and stops me.

“Look, I know things haven’t been great… for a while now. There’s, um, this guy in my Literature class, we got talking one day… and he’s always said he and his girlfriend would be open to a… open relationship… of sorts. He’s cute… but said he’d only be interested if his girlfriend was looked after…” Andrea begins.

“What?” I ask, feeling a little angry. Andrea blushes.

“Shh. Don’t make a scene. Look, this guy said he’d agree to an open relationship with me if… if we did some kind of partner swap?”

“I’m sorry?”

“I said he’d be interested in something if we did a…”

“I heard you the first time! When did you have that conversation?” I ask.

“Uh, about a couple of months ago…” Andrea admits.

“Seriously? No!”

“Please, Ethan. You don’t like me anymore, right, but this guy does. He won’t take it any further unless our partners agree. Apparently, he’s known his girlfriend for years and…”

“You’re kidding, right? No way, Andrea. Who would agree to that? If you want to be his mistress, go ahead, but count me out of it,” I tell her, furious.

“You cared about me once, right?”

“Yeah,” I admit.

“Look, it’s not like you have to do anything with her. We both know how you feel about that…” she says, raking my body and looking at my pants. It’s true that I haven’t wanted to have sex with her for a while. In fact, I can barely get it up around her; she doesn’t turn me on. We have had sex, but it only fulfilled a need. I have had more fun with myself than with her, to be honest.

“So, do it for me? Please?”

I shake my head in response. If the guy she likes and his partner is in an open relationship, then not sleeping with his partner won’t bother her as much. It’s not like I’m breaking them up or anything.

“All right,” I say, immediately regretting my response.

“Good,” she smiles, wrapping her arms around my neck and kissing my lips.

To say our relationship wasn’t different after that conversation would be a lie. Andrea was happy, but I couldn’t understand how anyone would agree to let their partner have sex with somebody else. I’m a one-person-at-a-time kind of guy. Of course, I fantasized about two women at once, but it’s just a fantasy—nothing I’d ever do… I’m too jealous and possessive to do that.

I regret not saying no and walking away. A part of me is interested in who these people are. But I’m in shock as I stand here, looking at the woman who has entered my thoughts on and off over the years.

“Hi,” she says, her voice sounding melodious. I could hear her voice every day and never tired of it. I watch as she reaches for Noah’s hand.

“It’s nice to meet you,” Andrea smiles. She sounds so sweet, but I know the truth. When the girl, who her boyfriend calls Micky, doesn’t say anything, Andrea speaks up again.

“Shall we start?” Andrea asks, not looking at me.

“Yeh-yeah,” Noah says. I look at him. He looks like the cat got the cream, and I can’t believe he will do this to Micky. I can’t believe I agreed to come at all.

“We’ll take the bedroom,” Noah says. Andrea and Noah leave the room, but I focus on Micky. I wonder what her name is. Michelle? Micky glares at me, which makes me feel angry. This is not how I wanted to meet her. If she were mine, I wouldn’t do this to her.

“This is your fault,” I bite back. I don’t know where that came from or why I’m taking it out on her, but my anger is about to spill. Why would she agree to this?

“You agreed to it,” she sneers. Like hell I did. I don’t want Andrea. I want her, but not like this.

“So did you,” I reply with the same amount of venom.

“Like I wanted it to happen,” she yells.

“Sure you did. I bet you couldn’t please him anymore, so he went looking somewhere else,” I stated angrily. Frack! I do not mean that!

“Then why are you here?” she asks. Good question. Why am I here? I should go. I don’t want this; she obviously doesn’t want this either.

I watch as she turns around and sits back down on the couch.

“I’m not having sex with you,” I tell her. Not like this, I say to her in my head.

“Thank god for that,” she responds. I’m thinking of something witty to say when a loud moan comes out of a bedroom. Micky whimpers and runs out of the room and into another room, closing the door behind her.

Frack, I think to myself, and go after her. The room Micky ran into is small and narrow, with a single bed on one side and a desk with a computer on the other. Micky sits in the middle of the bed with her legs curled into her body. Her hair sweeps down her arms, hiding her face.

I close the door behind me and walk over to her, pulling her into me as I wrap my arms around her body. Micky is stiff in my arms, but I continue to hold her regardless. I know she is crying from her whimpers, making me not want to let go.

I recall seeing her around campus with her boyfriend, who I now know is Noah. They looked happy together, in love. I feel awful for my part in this. Even though I hold no feelings for Andrea, I know Micky loves Noah.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper. I don’t know what else to say to comfort her. If she was mine… well, she’s not, but if she was… I wouldn’t do this.

Slowly, she relaxes in my arms, her legs withdrawing from her body as she sits more comfortably on the bed. I try to move to give her some space, but she grabs me, wrapping her arms around my chest and leaning into me.

“I’m sorry too,” she whispers. I don’t reply. I hold her when we hear another moan from the bedroom.

“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” Andrea cries out. I smirk. Andrea was always a little dramatic between the sheets. Micky flinches, and I respond by pressing her head against my chest, shushing her in an attempt to soothe her.

“Fucking bitch,” I murmur.

Micky pulls away and looks up at me, and I watch her take a complete account of my features as I take in hers. She’s gorgeous. The light I saw when we bumped into each other the first time is no longer there, but I can understand why.

I wipe her tears with my thumb, even when crying; she’s beautiful. I take in her plump, pink lips, and I press mine against hers without thinking.

“Sorry,” I begin to say when she doesn’t respond. I start to pull back, but she surprises me and leans forward, responding to my kiss.

“Fuck this,” I mumble, wrapping my hand around her neck and pulling her towards me.

I wake before her, her back pressed against my front due to the lack of room in the bed. Mikaela. I learned last night that her name is Mikaela and that she doesn’t like being called Micky. We’re both naked, and my body is well aware of this as my friend begins to come back to life.

I take a moment to watch her sleep. Her hair has fallen across her face, and gently I push it away to reveal her creamy skin.

I lay back on the pillow. In all my fantasies about this woman, I never thought I’d meet her like this. I breathe in, the scent of her shampoo filling my nose. Slowly, I notice her breathing change as she wakes from sleep.

“Morning,” I say, my morning voice gruff.

“Morning,” Mikaela replies, going still. I know she can feel my hardness against her leg, but there’s no way I can prevent that. To my surprise, she presses herself into my body, grabs my arm wrapped around her torso and cuddles me.

“Hmm,” I sigh, as my cock pulses in response. I lean forward and kiss her shoulder, making a line of kisses towards her neck.

Mikaela turns her head, and our mouths meet as we kiss. Again she surprises me by moving her hand to my cock, stroking my length.

“Can you be quiet?” I whisper in her ear.

“Yes,” she responds. Nodding, I pull her hips towards my cock, so that when I thrust my hips into her, my cock presses between her butt cheeks.

Shit! Carefully I move around her so that I am kneeling on the bed.

“Move, hips up,” I order. Mikaela does as she’s told, burying her head in the pillow below. I place my knees between hers and slap her arse-cheeks, making her groan.

“Quiet,” I order, watching her nod in response.

Grabbing my length, I wipe the tip up and down inside her backside, trying to replace her sweet spot. Finding it, I push forward, her heat wrapping around me in wet pleasure. Mikaela sighs as I enter her, and I smile, knowing I’m not done yet.

Slowly I slide out of her before sheathing myself back in. Mikaela grabs the pillow, and I can hear her moan, making me smile. Grabbing her hips, I pound into her, picking up speed as I take everything out on her body.

“Good girl,” I moan between thrusts as Mikaela screams into her pillow. Suddenly I feel Mikaela tighten around me, and I lose it, releasing myself into her at the same time. We collapse onto the bed, and I take my softening dick out of her.

We lay there in the aftermath, trying to catch our breaths, my arm slung around Mikaela’s torso again. I smile, content. I could lie in bed all day with her in my arms.

“I’m going to shower,” Mikaela eventually says. Even though she can’t see me, I nod and take my arm away.

Mikaela grabs her clothes from last night and puts them on, glancing at me before walking out the door.

I lay there with one arm behind my head as I heard the water from the shower switch on. I should get up and join the land of the living, but doing that would mean this night would end, and I don’t want it to stop.

I hear a loud scream from the bedroom, and I know Andrea and Noah must be awake. I hope Mikaela and I weren’t as loud as them.

After a while, I dress and venture outside the room. As I walk across the room to the kitchen bench, I slick my hair back, trying to make it look less messy. Mikaela is sitting there, looking down at the tea she is drinking. She looks up at me and gives me a small smile as I sit beside her.

“Good morning, everyone!” Andrea then yells out. I watch her walk out of the bedroom, a sheet gathered around her, her hair a mess. Noah looks similar, in a pair of track pants exposing his chest.

I turn back to Mikaela, who hasn’t stopped looking at her tea.

“How is everyone? Have a good night?” Andrea asks, walking into the kitchen. Mikaela whimpers, and I grab her hand, which she has fisted on her lap, and squeeze it.

“Micky, can you make us all a drink while Andrea and I get ready?” Noah asks. Mikaela nods.

“Micky?” Noah asks again.

“Yes, Noah,” Mikaela replies.

“Come on, Andrea,” I hear Noah say. I sit beside Mikaela and listen as Noah and Andrea leave the room. Mikaela’s shoulders slump, and I place my arm around her, pulling her into me again.

“I’m sorry,” I tell her.

- edited