Life with Roxy was like a roller coaster that both thrilled and chilled. Sometimes your stomach gets queasy with the whole thing and you swear you’ll never get on again. Then before you know it, you find yourself lining up for another ride, like the adrenaline junkie you really are. The kind of relationships that make you sweat, in both good and bad ways, can become a lot like this over time. Eventually, if you’re lucky and not doomed to a life as a perpetual fuck up, the excitement of the ups and downs begin to fade and you start to crave stability again. Roxy and I had been living together for a year by then and our particular brand of love no longer held the kind of shiny appeal it once had. All the little quirks and flaws that I’d found so exciting when we’d first met had finally begun to wear on me. It wasn’t a matter of relationship fatigue in so much as it was a matter of finally accepting a reality I’d done literally everything to avoid acknowledging. Roxy was never going to grow up. She was the sybaritic type, content on soaking up life’s fun and frivolity without taking any responsibility for anything other than getting what she wanted. At first it had charmed me. She was that dreamer goddess with her head in the clouds, always looking the next big high. It had been the perfect foil to get me away from my more practical and grounded tendencies. I’d been jaded and dispassionate before her, but the ride we’d taken together had come with some jarring twists and turns. Now I was beginning to consider the possibility that we were just a toxic match, and that the good times no longer overrode the bad. Up until then, I’d had my eyes tightly closed, childishly hoping all the bad stuff would go away. And yet, even if you’re not seeing it, it doesn’t mean it’s not still there, corrosively eating away at the foundation of everything you thought you had. “I’m not altogether sure she’s right in the head,” I told Zane once, over beers near the Santa Monica Pier. We’d been spending more time together by then, hanging out like old times. As my relationship continued to decay, a little separation was not only wanted, it was needed. Roxy’s rusted VW had long since been left in my garage and now she was driving my SUV whenever possible, dropping me off and then skidding away, off to another yoga class or maybe to drop some coin on Melrose. During the week, when I was at work, she thought nothing of fifty-dollar cab rides to the beach of her choice. Roxy was nothing but wholly dedicated to her pursuit of pleasure. “Dude, I don’t know what to tell you. One day we were surfing and the next day you had yourself a full on wife. How does that happen exactly? Like how do you just go and move some strange girl into your house and give her the keys to your entire life?” “She was special,” I reminded him. “Yeah, yeah, the golden pussy. I remember. Hell, that night in the club is still fresh in my head as far as hot scenes go. Fuck, it must be damn good, bro, to put up with this array of shit from her.” He took another swig of his beer. “So how much longer are you going to be her whipping boy?” “I’m not a fucking whipping boy.” “You are. Never let a girl take control like she has. She’s got you by the balls and she’s not letting go until you put a ring on that finger. I pegged that from the first moment you hooked up with her. She’s a smart one, that Roxy. Hot, yeah, but not relationship material. You’d have been better off leaving her at the beach that afternoon, after you’d had your fun.” “Come on, it hasn’t been all bad,” I reminded him. “In some totally bent way, she’s still the best time I’ve ever had.” “Had is the key word there, my friend. Seriously, it’s time to move on.” “She’s got nowhere to go,” I said with a heavy sigh. “I can’t just kick her out.” “Let her go back to Arizona or whatever. It’s not your problem. You’ve done more than enough, trust me. This girl is draining you. And not in a good way.” I turned the beer bottle over and over in my hands, methodically considering all my options. “Fuck, I don’t know,” I admitted finally. “When shit like this happens, you think it’s going to be easy to put it behind you, but it’s not. Maybe I’m just not quite ready to let her go yet.” It was difficult to begin to indulge the idea of a genuine breakup coupled with the complications of her situation. She didn’t have a built-in network of girlfriends to fall back on, if we parted ways. And on her own, she certainly didn’t have the funds to secure the kind of lifestyle she’d grown accustomed to. Once I had brought up the idea of her returning to Arizona, mostly as a joke, but she had been very serious in return. She was a California girl now. There was no way she was going back to the desert. This was where she belonged, she’d told me. And yet, the obvious issues still remained. Beautiful, young and broke, she’d picked an expensive coastline to pin her hopes on. I’d always considered it a bit of luck when we’d connected, fresh off her last breakup. I had been eager to take her in because the vibe between us had been so intense. Meant to be, she’d called in, in one of her more girly moments. How many times had she whispered it to me, hot with desire, that she’d never felt this way before, while running her tongue along my ear, her hand sliding down the front of my jeans to grip my cock. She had a hold on me, and I wanted to believe the effect I had on her was just as strong. In a way, we were enablers for each other’s vices in our relationship. She provided the excitement and I provided the stability. It’s a heady combination before you really take serious stock of your differences and see all the red-flags in between. Logistics weren’t the only thing that had me continuously putting off a break up. There was also that awful little niggling doubt that happens when you’re on the cusp of ending a big love affair and all the ‘what ifs’ that start to play around in your head. What if you’re making a hasty mistake? What if there’s something there to salvage and make better? In a sick way maybe I thought I could fix her too. It’s easy to shrug off the shackles of a co-dependent relationship when you aren’t getting anything back in return. It’s far more difficult when there are the moments that still manage to keep you there, bound by all the little things that are pure magic at times. That was my constant struggle mersin escort with Roxy. Even when it was dark, there were still sparks that had a kind of hypnotic effect on me. Just when she saw me on the verge of checking out, she’d do something to confuse me and make me question everything again. When I would complain about maxed out credit cards, she’d buckle down and try to make things right. That spring, for example, she’d picked up a modeling gig with a local surfing apparel company. They needed a pretty thing that could ride the waves and Roxy was a perfect fit. Not only did she have the right look, but she could also give them the action shots they wanted, down at the beach. They’d sent her some of the digital proofs after the photo shoot and she’d been eager to show me. She was gorgeous alright, in her array of rash guards, bikini bottoms and wetsuits. A neoprene queen with her wet blonde strands and the kind of spray she could throw, doing her tricks on the board. “See, they loved me,” she said with a satisfied grin. “I can bring it when I need to, Leo. Don’t underestimate me.” She was determined to show me that she was competent when she wanted to be. Or more importantly, when something motivated her or caught her interest, which was still a rarity at best. She would go into a little ‘I can do no wrong’ bubble for a few weeks. I would encourage her to continue getting out there and looking for work or following up on contacts instead of falling back on her lazy lifestyle of partying and surfing. Instead of being buoyed by my support, however, she would grow resentful, like I was pressuring her or trying to control her free spirited ways. Inevitably the brighter moments were followed by those longer lulls of dissatisfaction again. It was a vicious cycle, the good times and the bad. Things began to come to a head in early June. It was my birthday and I’d driven home from work filled with the kind of life-overhaul resolve that comes on milestone dates in the calendar year, like birthdays, anniversaries and New Year’s Eve. I’d had every intention of talking to her that night and sorting through our plans for the future. I’d even rehearsed my lines, while stuck in traffic. ‘It’s not you, or me, it’s us. We’re not good for each other. Surely you have to see that too.’ I walked in with a heavy heart and some trepidation over the idea of finally hashing it all out. And then my big speech was effectively cut to ribbons by the image that greeted me. There she was, naked and lounging on her side, propped up on an elbow atop a brand new surfboard that was positioned and perfectly balanced across my low coffee table. As if her sprawl wasn’t jaw-dropping enough, she’d placed a huge red bow on her ass, just barely visible behind the delicious curve of her hip. “Happy Birthday, baby,” she sang. “Look what I got for you.” I dropped my keys on the hall table and walked up to her like a moth to a flame. “What did you do?” Her eyes were sparkling as she batted her lashes in an exaggerated way, reminding me of a cartoon sexpot. “Like it?” “You or the board?” I smirked. She playfully swatted me before sitting up. “It’s kind of a package deal.” Roxy slid into my lap. “See, it’s all custom work,” she enthused, running her hand along the rails. “I had it designed especially for you.” “Fuck, Roxy. You shouldn’t have. It must have cost a…” “Hey, don’t worry about money. We’re beyond that aren’t we? We have love. Hot, liquid, fucking undeniable love.” She slid her warm tongue into my mouth and all my plans quickly melted away. She told me she’d used the money she’d made from her recent modeling job to buy me what was truly a stellar gift that outshone anything anyone had ever done for me before. It wasn’t the throwaway token I had been expecting that day when she’d mumbled a ‘happy birthday’ before rolling over to continue snoozing in the early morning hours before I got up for work. Roxy walked around the board, taking me on a tour of all the custom artwork choices she’d made. She’d even had our initials discreetly blended into the graphic design on one of the fins. “So now every time you’re waiting for a set, you’ll know I’m right there, under you, gripping the water, and helping maneuver you in the right direction. I’m your forever good luck charm, Leo.” I drank in all of her excitement. Her energy was like a kid on Christmas morning and utterly contagious. “And now it’s time for your second birthday gift,” she said, turning around and bending at the waist. She braced her hands on the board, and I was presented with her glorious ribbon-adorned ass, the cheeks naturally splayed by her posture. She swayed her hips back and forth, tempting me with that juicy plum. “It’s all for you, baby.” “How’d you know it’s just what I wanted?” I teased. I peeled the bow away and tossed it aside. My hands moved over her tight curves, inhaling the scent of her cunt before diving my tongue inside. I drew her back against me, drunk off another perfect moment. Eventually I laid her across the board, christening it. I got down on my knees and put both of her legs over my shoulder, feeling the heat of her pussy against my lips before I locked on for a more thorough exploration of every slippery fold, that warm wet hole and that perfect little pink clit that trembled under my tongue. Her body began to move and arch, as she rhythmically bucked up against my mouth and probing fingers. I could even see the faint trace of juices on the board beneath her ass, like nectar on the resin. I couldn’t get enough of her again. She was instantly addicting. The sight of her there, all tanned limbs, long blonde hair, and eager eyes completely distracted me from my earlier thoughts of getting her out of my life. She was rapturous and passionate that night too, as though trying to erase all doubts that she was in it again, and that she wanted to make it work. When I slid into her, it was easy. She wasn’t fighting me or jostling for control, we were connecting, like we had on the beach one year earlier. I could almost feel the warmth of the sun, the way it was on that day again. It was sweet. And fuck I didn’t want to let it go. “You know what? I’m feeling optimistic about us again,” she’d said, laying in our mess of sheets later that night. “It’s been kind of crazy lately, Rox,” I admitted. “Either way, something’s mersin escort bayan gotta give, right? Maybe if we both figure out where to focus our energies.” She nodded. “Look, I know we haven’t had the smoothest year, but I just consider them growing pains. What couple doesn’t go through a bit of an adjustment period when they move in together?” “Roxy, it’s been more than just an adjus…” She put her fingers to my lips, silencing me. “Wait, I’m not finished yet. What I wanted to say is that I’ve done some thinking lately and I really want to get more serious this year about my future and what I want. And I’m ready to put some real effort into it, not just coasting anymore. I want to get a stable job, cut down on the partying, make a real try for it. For us.” It was everything I’d wanted to hear for months. I lay in bed that night, long after she’d fallen asleep, wondering if I was being naïve about the whole thing. Roxy was so convincing when she wanted to be. There was no guile behind her words that night or sense that she was feeding me what I wanted to hear. I believed in her, at least as much as she believed it herself. And that’s the real trouble with trust in relationships, when moments are fleeting and feelings change as quickly as a riptide. You can put your faith into the way the currents are moving, but there’s always that damned undertow, ready to pull you away from safe shores and change up the game completely. * * * The big party was on the Fourth of July. There were five of us that year: Zane, Noah and his flavor of the month girl, and Roxy and I. We’d spent most of the day cruising The Strand at Hermosa Beach among the throngs of people. Roxy was working it as usual in a red string bikini and shredded denim shorts that barely covered her ass. While there were plenty of bikinis along that beach, Roxy’s ultra-toned surfer girl curves gave her an edge and she welcomed the attention. Rather than hover the way I used to, I let her do her thing. It had only been a few short weeks past my birthday and things were green again between us. My confidence had been restored about where we were headed and I wasn’t looking back. Zane noticed the stars in my eyes and I knew he wasn’t impressed. “You’re gonna regret it, man. I’m telling you. This is all a temporary smokescreen.” I shrugged. “Maybe it is, maybe it isn’t. I’ll have bigger regrets not seeing it through. I have to know for sure before I make a move either way.” He gave me a sidelong glance, as though in disbelief over my newfound faith in her. “Golden pussy,” he said, snidely reminding us both. “That’s always been the key.” “Dude, why don’t you just chill on the whole thing for a while, okay?” I snapped. “I get it. You hate her. But gimme some space. Let me figure it out on my own.” At first I’d been down with everything Zane had been saying about her and the fate of the relationship but now it was all grating on me, making me feel bristly about even talking to him about her. I’d kept my mouth shut and supported him through an endless number of female train-wrecks over the years without making moral judgments, and now I wasn’t feeling any similar level of support. “Bro, you know I’m just looking out for you,” he said quietly, quickly downing the rest of his drink. He dropped it on one of the bar tables with an authoritative crash of glass on wood and turned to me with a wide amiable grin. “But fine, I’ll shut up about it. It’s your life, your chick. You’ll see it when you want to see it…” Roxy was back within earshot and I quickly changed the topic. She ambled over to us, double-fisting vodka shots that were constantly being passed to her on account of being a hot girl. “Happy Fourth,” she sang, downing them both with aplomb before going up on her toes and hanging on my neck to drop a long open kiss on me. I could hear the sighs and low groans coming from the bar, as would-be players realized that she was already taken. I wasn’t shy about drawing her in for a vodka-fueled make out, pulling her little waist up against my abs as my mouth moved against hers. It was only when I heard Zane clearing his throat that I let her down for a breath of air. “Fuck, get a room,” Zane laughed. “Oh, come on,” Roxy chastised, “as if you’d do it any differently.” “Sorry, I don’t do public fucking anymore, Dollface. Crowds like this aren’t my thing.” “How do you do your fucking then, Zane?” she giggled. “Come on, I wanna know.” “With stealth,” he teased, leaning in close. “I’m not the type that needs to show off. Unlike you.” “Owwww,” she laughed, pretending he’d landed a sinking insult. “If you don’t like the show, then why do I keep notice you looking? Wanna buy tickets?” “Not if you’re giving them away for free, darlin’.” It was the first time I’d noticed a genuinely flirty repartee between them. I had assumed it was a result of the copious amounts of alcohol we’d all been consuming, but it still surprised me. And yet just as quickly, before I let my territorial paranoia sink in, the moment had passed. Zane put a respectable distance between them again and returned to ogling the female bartender. “I’m heading in,” he said with a wink, nodding toward the sexy redhead pouring shots. We watched his confident stride to the bar, having honed in on his night’s prize. The bartender was already awaiting the approach. She cocked her head to the side, smiling at him as she leaned in to hear his pitch. Roxy, in the meantime, was ready to put the focus back on her. She pressed back into my chest, wiggling her little ass into me. “Better watch it, you’re going to get me hard, dirty girl,” I whispered into her ear. “That’s kind of the point.” “Yeah, but we’ve got all night.” She turned in my arms, gazing up at me. “I’ve been looking forward to this for a while. There’s nothing like a night of fireworks to clear all the cobwebs of the past, don’t you think? You just let it all out and send it off with a bang. It’s like a fresh start.” “Hmm… I like that analogy,” I said thoughtfully. I was caught off guard by the swell of emotion I was suddenly feeling for her again. When she told me she loved me, the intensity of those words returned full force. I did love her. More than I wanted to. It was a masochistic romance to be sure, but I was still utterly hooked, pulled back into the blissful euphoria of those first few months when escort mersin she looked at me like that. Like I was still her whole world. Zane handed us another round of drinks and continued to busy himself at the bar. The pretty redhead was laughing at something he’d said, amused in the way women typically were when Zane turned the full force of his off-beat charms on them. “He’s shameless,” she giggled. “Yeah, but you’d be surprised at how many girls he gets. I honestly can’t remember the last long-term relationship he’s had. I think he’s paranoid about the money. Zane has major trust issues.” “What money? He’s a painter! I’ve seen him down at Venice Beach. And he’s always asking you for a ride. He’s hardly a big catch in the LA gold digger sweepstakes.” “Nah, he paints cause that’s his thing. He’s a trust fund baby though. He’s never had to do any real work a day in his life. His dad’s in the oil business and provides plenty of cushion for his only son. Zane’s got his future locked down tight, believe me. But he thinks most women are whores, so he plays it off cause he doesn’t wanna get played.” “And what about you?” she asked with a nudge. I grinned sarcastically. “I don’t wanna get played either.” “No, I mean that bit about all women being whores. Is that your deal too?” For a moment, I looked at her incredulously. “No, fuck no.” And then I realized she had only been teasing. “That’s too bad, Leo. I was thinking about being your little whore tonight. But if you only want the good girls…” “Since when have you ever been a good girl?” I asked, dropping a warm kiss on her neck. “That’s true,” she said. It might have been the first honest thing she’d said in our entire relationship. Later that night we spilled onto the streets with the crowds to watch the fireworks over the ocean. We sat in the sand. Noah was there with his girl and Zane had successfully reeled in the bartender, who’d finished her shift at midnight and brought a bottle of premium Tequila with her. It was like old times with Roxy in my lap, snuggling into my shirt, watching the explosion of lights across the night sky. At a casual glance we were the couple everyone wanted to be. My fingers traced the fringed denim along her inner thigh, slipping inside to tease her clit, getting her all hot again. Somewhere in the early hours of the morning, we lost track of everyone else and walked back to my townhouse, drunk, laughing, crashing through the front door. It felt easy again with her in my arms. There were no dark undercurrents or hard edges. We were connecting in a deeper way than we had in months and in my deluded state, I was even starting to fantasize about her in a white dress and veil on the beach. I could marry this girl. Yeah, that’s what a day’s worth of drinking and a beautiful girl will do to you. Not to mention a tongue that wasn’t shy about going anywhere. By the time we’d spent our energies, the sex and the alcohol had made my head heavy with exhaustion. We fell asleep, limbs entwined, for what seemed like hours but was obviously far less than that. The sound of the door being unceremoniously knocked open momentarily woke us both. I realized I probably hadn’t locked it and we weren’t far from the main strip that was still packed with both locals and tourists. I left Roxy in bed and crept out into the hall. My first thought was a possible break-in, but once I’d taken a few steps down the stairs, I saw Zane staggering in. I heard him swearing as he bashed his toe on a table, feeling his way along the couch. “Are you ok? What happened to what’s her name? The redhead. Kelly.” I was scratching my head, trying to fit the puzzle pieces together in my fog as I turned on a side lamp in the hall. “Whores, they’re all whores, Leo,” he sighed. “I tested her. Told her I lived in a shit apartment with three roommates. Told her I was a caricature artist, just to really drive it home. She pretended to be impressed, like ‘wow it’s all about following your dreams, good for you.’ She told me she was going to the bathroom for a minute. An hour later, I’m snoozing on the beach. I’m not going to tell her I live in a beachside penthouse. Fuck that. You can’t trust any of them.” “So, you’re going to crash here tonight?” “Yeah, I can’t get a cab at this time of night with those crowds all trying to do the same thing. I’ll sleep it off on your couch. Be out before you’re up in the morning. Go back to bed.” I tossed him a pillow and some blankets from the hall closet and returned to Roxy. I found her staring out the window, uncharacteristically lost in thought. “Babe?” “I was just thinking about all the fun we’ve had over the past year.” “It’s been a trip,” I agreed, sinking down into the covers beside her. “Ups and downs. The ups have been pretty damn good though, haven’t they?” She barely smiled. “I know I can be frustrating.” “It’s part of the package,” I acknowledged. “But I’ve always liked a challenge. So do you, Roxy.” “Do you think people can change, Leo?” “Not really.” Yeah,” she said, looking wistful. “You’re probably right.” I should have heard it in her tone right then and there. I should have flipped on the lights and talked her through whatever was bouncing around in her head, but I didn’t. Instead I kissed her softly and closed my eyes to everything, choosing sleep over a chance to fight for what I thought I wanted. It was just supposed to be a few hours. Just a few mindless restful dreamscapes after a long day that had been one of our best in a long while. I’d thought we were in that comfortable place, that holding pattern before the next wave, where we could just drift for a little while, side by side, the sun reflecting off our faces as we floated in the cool blue. In reality, I’d gotten lost in the curves of her face and that salty tangle of hair that clung like ocean weeds. That smile lulled me in with a dangerous wink. I didn’t even hear the monstrous wave rising up behind me, reading to crash. It was the noise that woke me up that night. A car backfiring in the streets, or maybe it was some late fireworks finishing their rounds. Roxy wasn’t in bed and the bathroom light wasn’t on. Sometimes I wish I’d closed my eyes again. Maybe it would have been easier. I lay there for a little while before getting up, contemplating something a guy in a solid relationship would never have. I don’t know what exactly I was expecting to find. Fuck it, even as I claim that now, I know it’s a lie. What I wanted to find was Roxy in the kitchen getting a glass of water, or maybe sitting on the overstuffed chair in the corner talking to Zane about how he needed to treat women better and learn how to trust.