Someone Out There Loves You

Chloe POV
I was drunk. Actually, drunk was a bit of an understatement. I was completely and utterly off-my-face, embarrassingly intoxicated. It was a stupid move, one I knew might lead to me making a stupid decision, but I had to do it. I was hurt, angry and in need of obliterating the angry jealousy that had wormed its way into my veins, fuelling every negative thought in my mind. It was also a bad idea to call Macy and Andrea to join me on my quest to get drunker than I’ve ever been in my entire life. I wanted to forget about Gerard, and how he effected me, and how he made me feel, and how amazing the sex we had the night before had been, and how much I hated that he was the one thing I wanted, and yet I couldn’t have him. Not completely, anyway. He belonged to anybody who was willing to pay, and the fact that I knew I wouldn’t be enough to change that, that I knew I meant nothing to him but a convenient lay, was soul-crushing and heart wrenching, and it tore me up inside in a way I had never felt before. I wanted to break things, I wanted to stamp my foot in a tantrum, I wanted to scream and shout and act like a toddler, so that I could vent my emotions physically. Too bad I wasn’t a child. I was an adult, who was expected to just deal with hurt and betrayal in a rational manner, to keep it buried deep down inside and internalise it, which was supposedly healthier than venting.
“You know, this is a good thing. Gerard showed you that you actually want to meet someone. You’re finally over the whole thing with he-who-shall-not-be-named. I mean, yeah, it sucks that you fell for a guy who fucks other people for a living, but, you know, the best way to get over a guy is to get under one. There’s a cute blonde standing by the bar that’s been checking you out. Forget about Gerard.”
Macy’s words made sense. I knew she was right, that this was a sign that I was over my dick of an ex, and how he had crushed my confidence. Gerard had made me feel desired again, like I was worth something to someone. I had gained some of my self-confidence back, and I owed Gerard thanks for that. Maybe it was wrong of me to storm out the way I had that morning. I could have been wrong about the nature of the text, but the fact was that I would forever think about what he was doing, and who he was with, if we continued on this friendship, even if we didn’t sleep together again. I was officially in over my head. I had fallen for him in spite of myself, and now I was hurt, yet again.
“More sex won’t fix this.”
“Maybe not, but I don’t think it would hurt. You need to stop thinking about him, and the best way to do that is to use another guy as a distraction.”
A distraction was exactly what I needed. The idea should have been completely abhorrent to me, but after five double martinis, it sounded like a good option.
“You’re right. Fuck it! I’ll do it.”
“That’s my girl,” Andrea grinned, giving me a hug, before shoving me in the direction of the guy who had been eyeballing me for the last half an hour. I didn’t stumble as I made a path to the bar, sliding in beside the blonde and waiting for the barman to notice me.
“A pretty girl like you shouldn’t be buying her own drink.”
I couldn’t help but grin at the remark, giggling in delight. What a cheesy pick up line. I could never imagine Gerard using something so generic to get a girl's attention. Gerard wouldn’t have to use pick up lines – he had everybody’s attention without trying. He had this air about him, one that screamed ‘Look at me! I’m sexy as fuck, and you all know it’.
Gerard. Fuck, I just couldn’t stop thinking about him. I was standing beside a cute guy, who was showing an interest in me and aiming a sexy, adorable smile my way, but Gerard was still in my head. He had been ever since I walked out of his apartment with a wounded pride, and it hit me with a painful throb that he wasn’t going to be leaving my thoughts anytime soon. Sure, this guy could buy me a drink, maybe take me home and give me a half decent screw, but it wouldn’t really take my mind off of Gerard. This guy could do amazing things to me, and I’d still be thinking about Gerard, and how he would probably do it better. I would lie there and wonder where Gerard was, if he was with a client, if he was having a good time, and if he had forgotten about our tryst already. He was without question the best I'd ever had, but he was so experienced that I doubt I even made his top twenty. I swallowed the bitter taste that was in my mouth, but it didn’t get rid of the aftertaste. I didn’t want to be here beside this guy. I didn’t want him to buy me a drink, and talk to me with insincere words and false flattery, so I could be used once again.
I had to leave. I didn’t even say a word to him before I rushed off, going back to the table and grabbing my coat and bag.
“Chloe?” Andrea asked, confused and concerned over my sudden erratic behaviour.
“I have to go. You two stay, but I just…I have to go,” I pleaded, and they seemed to understand that I meant what I said.
“Get a taxi,” Andrea ordered, and I nodded to show that I had heard and understood. I wasn’t stupid enough to walk alone at night in the city.
I hailed a taxi, giving him my address before sinking into the leather seats sullenly. This wasn’t supposed to happen. I had avoided meeting men for exactly this reason. They fucked with my head, leaving me reeling and unsteady and not in control of my own emotions. Why couldn’t he leave me alone? Why did he have to force himself on me and make me feel this way? This was his fault. Everything I felt right then was because of him. I wanted to yell at him, I wanted to hurt him and make him regret screwing with me the way he had.
That was what led me to the outside of Gerard’s apartment building. There was no security at the door, and I found his apartment door with ease. I clenched a fist and banged on the door, even though I had no idea if he was there or not. I hadn’t had the forethought to call him. I didn’t want him to be prepared for me. I wanted to catch him unaware, see if he could defend himself when caught by surprise.
He opened the door, his confusion giving way to shock when he saw me standing there.No doubt my face was the picture of the kind of fury only a woman scorned could possess.
“You’re an asshole!” I spat the second I saw his handsome face.
“Nice to see you too, Chloe. Do you want to come in?”
“No, I want to fucking kill you. You’re such a fucking…asshole,” I ranted, not caring that I was standing in the middle of a corridor where anyone could hear or walk by, “Why couldn’t you just leave me alone, huh? I was fucking fine before I met you. Then you just parade into my life, as though you have every fucking right to completely mess with my head, make me feel good about myself, and for what? A fucking ego trip? Is that what I am to you? A fucking toy, so you can feel better about yourself, and what you are? You-”
I was cut off when he yanked me into his apartment, slamming the door behind me and pushing me against it harshly, making me grit my teeth from the sharp sting of contact.
“You’re a mouthy little thing when you’re angry, but I have to admit, storming into my apartment, and making a show of yourself was something I didn’t expect from you. You’ve got your panties in quite a twist, huh? There’s no need for dramatics.If you want to get laid, a phone call would have sufficed.”
When I was younger, and even smaller, hitting wasn’t always practical. I had shorter limbs than my brothers, and in situations where they would pin me down, I had learned another reflex. My foot shot out, aiming for Gerard’s shin, and landed perfectly, and the cuss that came from his mouth was so satisfactory that it brought a smile to my face.
“Fuck!” he yelled, backing away from me with a hobble, rubbing the now bruised area.
I almost felt guilty. I was far too angry, and hurt, and humiliated, and secretly heartbroken to actually feel too bad about it. I couldn’t stop the tears from welling up when I thought about how he was making me feel about myself, how my emotions were all over the place because of him, and how I still wanted him even then, when he was hunched over in pain in front of me. I’m sure the alcohol wasn’t helping either, which only amplified the feelings, rather than numb them. I hadn’t even noticed that the tears had been running down my cheeks until Gerard straightened up, glaring at me briefly before his expression softened into something else. I’d like to think that maybe it was regret, or sadness, but I’ve always been bad at judging people’s expressions.
“Why can’t you be something else?” I whispered, voicing the thought that had been going through my head all day. Why did he have to be a hooker? Why couldn’t he just be a starving artist, or a clerk in a supermarket? Why couldn’t he be anything else, but a man who sold himself to the highest bidder?
“Because I’m not perfect, Chloe. I’ve made mistakes, and I took an easy way out when things got hard. I’ve never had great foresight when it came to the consequences of my actions, and if I had known you were going to come along-“
He stopped himself, afraid that he had said too much. His words didn’t make me feel better; in fact, they only made me feel worse. They alluded to things that might have been, and that maybe his feelings were deeper than I thought. I wanted to believe that as much as the thought pained me. If he did care, it would only make it worse. To know someone cared, that someone truly wanted me, but just not enough to stop screwing other women. Once again, it would be proof that I just wasn’t worth it, that I wasn’t enough, yet again.
“This is all your fault! I was happy with what I had before you came along. Why did you have to change that?”
“Maybe because you did the same thing to me. I can’t think straight anymore when I’m with a client, because all I can think about is you. I think about your smile, and how you sound, and how you’re the most genuine person I’ve ever met. And it kills me to think about you, because you’ll never take me as I am.”
I shook my head.
“Or maybe I’m just not good enough for you to give it up.”
“It’s not as simple as that, and you know it.”
“That’s a fucking excuse. You like what you do, and you don’t want to change that.”
His face went blank, hiding what it was he was thinking. I knew it was a mistake coming, and the conversation wasn’t making me feel better. I wanted to vent, but standing here, watching him watch me with sorrowful eyes, it hurt. It hurt to see how his pupils were a little bigger than normal, and how his iris had a wonderful mix of green and brown flecks, that gave him such a unique and beautiful colour. My chest ached, and all I wanted was for him to wrap his arms around me and make me feel better in the way only he could. He didn’t lie, he didn’t flatter. Every word that came from his mouth was honest. He was the only person who had stuck around when I had tried to push them away. He took my insults and my occasional outburst of violence when he annoyed me. He was perfect in every way for me, except that he was paid to put his dick in other woman.
“I did like it. For a long time, I loved it even. You know how many guys would kill to do what I do? To get paid to have sex for a living, and earn a fucking fortune doing it? I built a good thing for myself, and I’m not going to apologise for it. I had no responsibilities, and nothing to feel guilty about. I looked out for me, and that’s not something I’m going to beat myself up over. You’ve done it in your own way by shutting people out. I never thought I would meet someone who would make me wish I had made a different choice all those years ago, but I did, and if I hadn’t, I wouldn’t have met you, and I don’t regret that either.”
“I just wish I could say the same.”
Then I did feel bad. His face crumbled, dejected, and hurt written across it. My words had hurt more than the kick I had magnificently nailed to his shin. His arrogance was gone, and I think I finally saw him for the first time. He wanted to be wanted too. Not in the way all the other women wanted him, but he wanted to be needed. He wanted to feel like he was worth it, too, just like I did. Right then, I felt like I was in tragedy. We both wanted the same thing, and yet we couldn’t have it.
“Do you really mean that?”
I wanted to say yes, and put the final nail in the coffin that was whatever the hell this was. I could say yes, then walk away, and know that he wouldn’t chase after me this time. The alcohol made me truthful, though. As angry as I was, as hurt as I was, as much as knowing him, and knowing I couldn’t have him killed me, I couldn’t deny that once I looked past the negative, and all the shit that was entailed in this fucked up situation, that I didn’t regret it. I spent years denying that I was a woman with urges, who wanted to meet somebody who could make me feel alive again. Gerard had reawakened the forgotten need for companionship, and affection. Even though there was no way this could go anywhere, and I was only going to leave here with a broken heart, I was starting to realise that I didn’t want to be alone anymore, and maybe that wasn’t a bad thing.
“No.”
Then his lips were on mine, and I got lost in it. His lips were so smooth, so hungry for me, and when he slipped his tongue into my mouth, I stopped thinking. I didn’t want to think anymore, or feel anything other than his hands on my hips, which were travelling towards my ass, and pulled me closer to him. So I didn’t.

Notes

So, this isn't going to last too much longer...the inital plan was for 15 chapters. It may be a chapter or two longer than anticipated, but I don't plan on dragging this out.

Feedback is awesome guys, so if you can leave some, please do!

Lyra