Degradation
Page 39

“See, this is why I keep you around. No bullshit; so straight forward. I just might consider being nice to you tonight,” he offered. She snorted.
“How boring.”
“She's very hot. I guess you could say I dumped her. Yes, we argued this weekend. I can still fuck her whenever I want, so a 'closure-fuck' wasn't necessary. I did not fuck her this weekend,” Jameson answered every question.
Tate had meant to be cheeky. Prove that she didn't mind. He could sleep with other people. But when he had said that he could still sleep with the woman whenever he wanted, something happened to Tate's insides. Fucking some random woman was one thing – sleeping with an ex, someone he'd had a relationship with, that was dangerous. It made Tate nervous. She hadn't expected to feel that way.
She suddenly felt very guilty about her weekend.
“Would you? If the opportunity presented itself?” Tate asked, laying back against the floor.
“Sounds like it would bother you if I did.”
“I don't really know. It might.”
“Why?”
Tate had to think about it for a minute or two.
“I might be a slut, but ..., okay, I'm most definitely a slut, and I like to sleep with guys, and have no qualms about who or when or where. But I am not a cheater. I never cheated on any of my boyfriends. I won't sleep with a guy if I know he has a girlfriend or wife. I will not be that girl. If you start sleeping with your ex, you might get back together with her. Or really, she might just think you're back together – women are stupid that way. And if that happens, I would immediately become the other woman. I won't do that,” she explained, ignoring her glass and dragging the bottle of Jack to her lips, taking a sip.
“You cheated on your boyfriend, with me, when I had a girlfriend, who also happened to be your sister,” Jameson reminded her. Tate chuckled, took another swig of whiskey.
“So you understand why I'm so scarred about the whole thing. I don't want to be that girl ever again. It was a stupid accident, and look what happened. No thank you,” she replied.
“It was probably the best thing that could have happened to me at that time, so I have the opposite view of it,” he laughed.
“Po-TATE-o, po-TOT-o.”
“Maybe. Maybe you're just too hard on yourself. I mean, yeah, every time I've ever slept with someone outside of a relationship, my girlfriends always knew. I made sure they knew – lying is ridiculous. If someone doesn't like it, they can get the fuck out. But you and I, we were young, dating the wrong people. It's not like either of us planned it. And we didn't even get a chance to hide it. We weren't trying to hurt anyone,” he pointed out. She nodded.
“True. Still. You asked. That's my answer. No, I probably wouldn't like it if you started sleeping with this ex girlfriend. But I'm also not gonna stop you,” she wrapped up their conversation.
“Well, thank you for that, Tate. I'll be sure to tell you before I start plowing my way through my little black book.”
Tate rubbed her lips together, staring at the ceiling. Now was definitely the time to say something. Part of her didn't want to upset him or make him mad. She drew her knees up and rubbed her thighs together. Another part of her really wanted to make him mad, and see what would happen.
“I slept with Ang.”
God, I just blurted it out. Like a slutty-goat. Jesus.
“Excuse me?”
She cleared her throat.
“I slept with Ang. Had sex with him,” she clarified.
“What, like this weekend?” Jameson asked. She winced.
“Yes. Saturday night,” she replied.
“So I can't sleep with my ex because I might get back together with her, but you can sleep with your best friend-slash-tripod?” he questioned, but there was laughter in his voice. He didn't sound angry.
“I'm horrible. I didn't want to, at first. But I was lonely, and I was thinking about you all weekend, and then he was right in front of me, and it just ..., happened.”
Three times.
“Okay. Thank you for telling me,” Jameson replied in a simple tone. She felt a little like throwing up.
“I wasn't sure what is and isn't allowed. Ang and I have known each other forever – sex is more like a pickup game of basketball to us. We just do it, for like sport. But then I kept thinking that maybe it wasn't okay. I didn't know if we were allowed to sleep with other people, or what exactly is going on here, and I ..., I felt kinda bad afterwards,” Tate told him. It was the truth. She'd spent most of Sunday working out rehearsed speeches to beg for his forgiveness. Jameson chuckled.
“I don't care if you sleep with other people when I'm not around. We're the same animal, you and I, so I get it. But I gotta be honest, I have the same issue you have – you're a little too close to this Ang guy for my tastes. What if the same problem happens? I don't really care about being the other man, as long as I'm the man. Can't be that, if you go off and fall in love with your best friend. I'm not quite ready to stop playing with you yet,” he tried to explain. She laughed.
Oh, you are most definitely the man, Satan.
“That won't happen, trust me. But there we go – you can't sleep with ex girlfriends. I can't sleep with Ang. Deal?” she asked.
“If that makes you happy.”
There was a long pause after that, Tate drinking more from the bottle and Jameson just being quiet. She rubbed her legs together, lifted them back in to the air and did slow high kicks. She was pretty flexible, she could almost bring her knee to her chest. She let go of the bottle and laced her fingers behind her knee, gently pulling down. Just another inch, and -,