Lies and Tingles

My stomach aches as dread fills my heart. Not again. He couldn't be doing this to me again.

He promised he wouldn't.

The last time had been a mistake, a genuine one he had explained. His friends had gotten him drunk enough that he didn't know who he was fucking and had thought it was me even though my ex-friend looked nothing like me. It had happened at a frat party.

But this isn't a frat party.

Grinding my teeth as anger rages through my nerves, I throw the door open to Blake's room, the sight that greets me as proof of his infidelity. A naked brunette was sprawled on the bed with her stomach as he was sliding his length in and out of her, both of them too focused to notice I was in the room.

"Oh, fuck, Blake, I'm so close." The naked woman cried, burying her face in the pillow.

"Yeah, baby, come around my cock."

Baby? Blake has never called me baby. He always referred to me by my name, nothing more. I thought it was because he didn't like endearments which was why I didn't nickname him either.

"Are you going to come inside me?"

"Your pussy is so damn tight for me to even slip or, Fuck."

He was under her, his white shirt unbuttoned and his pants still on, but I didn't need to get closer to see what was pleasuring her that much.

The girl is naked, and her back is to me, but I don't need to see her face to know who she is - Susana Miller, head football cheerleader and the one who did everything to kick me out of the team when I started dating the star player. She succeeded after much effort and with the help of her brother who does her bidding now and then.

How long has this been going on for them to do it so casually? He promised me nothing like this would ever happen again.

She turns to ride him and Blake's expression goes pale when he meets my gaze.

"Fuck you!" I yell, lifting the middle fingers of both hands to show Blake how done I am with his shit.

"Arabella, wait!"

I didn't wait to hear his explanation this time as Susana's moans finally cut off and I stormed out of the room. Footsteps tread behind me, hurried to catch up while I rushed down the stairs, unshed tears building in my eyes.

I let out a choked sob as I reach downstairs and feel fingers curl around my wrist, turning me to face a bare chest where lipstick marks still taint his skin. 

"Arabella, let me ex-" 

"Do not touch me with those dirty hands, you cheater" I yank my wrist out of his grasp. 

"Arabella, let me explain.." Blake starts. 

"No, there's nothing to explain!", I said with anger, making me bite my bottom lip hard. 

"You fucking liar! You have been lying to me all along. Why the fuck do you keep asking me to take you back when you don't have any interest in this relationship?" 

"Arabella... he huffs my name, raking a hand through his thick blond hair. 

"I swear...I didn't mean to this time. I...I want you." 

"Fucking hell you want me!" I push his chest, shoving him back and he hits the coffee table behind him, stumbling on his heels. 

"You didn't mean it last time and you didn't mean it this time, so when are you going to mean it?" I said, looking at him with my eyes red. 

"You know what, I'm done with you, Blake. We're done! You can have all the cheerleaders in the team, heck have an orgy for all I care" I grit my teeth, promising myself not to cry as I turn around. 

Before I can open the front door though, it is opened by another from the other end and I collide with a solid chest, gasping at the impact. A hand curled around my exposed waist, the sweet pressure of it reminding me of other feelings than anger. 

I glance up, skating my eyes up the broad chest of a man who stands nearly at the height of six feet, five inches tall. I spot the ink tattooed on his tanned skin, peeking from the collar of his cotton shirt. 

I find his eyes, the amber irises holding a magnetic impact on me as my eyes take in the other handsome features of the not-so-stranger's face - from the strong square-cut jaw dusted with a light stubble to dark hair sprinkled with white strands, his dark wavy locks, to a cupid's bow mouth. 

The face that I stare at is older. It is of the thirty-year-old brother of my now ex-boyfriend. The man before me is Dimitri Rossi. 

His eyes are intensely studying my face, pure concern for me locking his jaw tight. He reads my thoughts instantly. I should have known he would be home too. Most colleges were over for the day by this time. 

"Bella..." Dimitri speaks my name with such carefulness, such softness, in that Italian drawl of his, that I forget about heartbreak for a second as I let the rhythm of his voice soothe me.

"What's wrong?" 

I don't want to answer his question, knowing he would figure it out anyway once I leave and he sees Susana with his brother. 

This man has always been kind to me, considerate of our relationship, and has asked me countless times if his brother was messing up but I always defended Blake. 

Whether it was during my and Dimitri's late-night ice cream and chocolate cookies sessions after Blake made me cry or while watching action and comedy movies from opposite ends of the couch as I waited for Blake to get home. 

The many nights here with the Rossi men have left me on a whole roller coaster of emotions possible, but as I stand here with Dimitri's hand on my waist, the familiar guilt overcomes me. Guilt for having a crush on my boyfriend's brother - and my professor. 

His touch burns my bare skin, and I fidget under his grasp. When he notices that, he tears his fingers off my skin, each tattooed finger letting me go one at a time, leaving behind only heat. 

I pull away from him and walk out of the apartment, leaving his question unanswered.