Push & Pull Read Online Free

to see how
different it looked in the daylight, like a stadium void of its fans. The way
the space absorbed the sun was inviting and kept me focused on the task at
hand. She was already waiting for me in the bar. A petite brunette with a
pinched face. I recognized her from several print ads and noted that her career
must have taken off if she was seeking me. We introduced ourselves briefly
before she got down to business.
    “His name is Damien,” she started,
sliding a picture across the table. “We met in Italy and he’s here on a work
visa. He said he couldn’t live without me so he moved here to be with me. But
I…”
    “Am afraid he’s using you for
permanent residency?” I asked. Her hand cast shamefully across her forehead.
    “I shouldn’t feel this way,” she
admitted in between sips of wine, “We love each other. I mean, I know he loves
me. And I hate that I’m even doing this but I’ve heard you’re the best. Can you
help?” I loathed myself for agreeing. Call me a cynic, but I had yet to
encounter a foreign fling that didn’t end in heartache. Even fresh off rejection,
I knew I could handle this with my eyes closed. We chatted over his schedule
and discussed compensation before she flagged the bartender for her check.
    “Don’t worry about. I got it,” I
insisted. The pangs of guilt tickled my stomach as she gave a sweet smile and
departed. I nursed my drink a while longer, mulling over the assignment when
the bartender circled back around.
    “I’ll take that check now,” I said,
digging my hand into my bag.
    “Not necessary. The boss got it,” he
replied, tossing his head back. I glanced over my shoulder and there he was.
The only person in the barren joint, smiling at me like a prize. We hadn’t
conversed since our prior meeting and for a moment I was floored. Scotch never
seemed so interesting. An internal debate ensued as I feigned interest in the
television overhead but ultimately I knew I couldn’t ignore him. Keeping my
eyes fixed upon his, I sauntered towards him. His finger nosed the edge of his
glass and he smirked as I sat.
    “Hello, Liam,” I said, taking a seat
across from him.
    “Can I be honest?” he said before I
had a chance to give him a piece of my mind. “It wasn’t good for me.”
    “What?”
    “You asked the other day if it was
good for me. I thought about it and it wasn’t.” His tone was flat, matter of
fact. My ego took another hard ass kicking and my cheeks burned. I hoped he
hadn’t noticed.
    “So, that’s why you didn’t call,” I
laughed, tossing my hands up in the air sarcastically before rising to my feet.
His hand caught my wrist and pulled me gently back down.
    “It wasn’t good for me because I
wanted you.” His words were hardly a whisper.
    “That was your choice and you opted
to make it a spectator sport,” I coldly reminded him, “This clearly wasn’t your
first time. Do you just proposition strange women to sleep with you and
co-workers?”
    “On occasion, yes,” he said
shamelessly, “but it’s not like that.”
    “Really, Liam? What’s it like?”
    “You’re feisty, adventurous. Hell,
you like scotch,” he laughed, gesturing at the empty glass poised in front of
me. “Once things got out of hand something felt off and I didn’t like it.”
    “You didn’t like me being with
another man.” My words zeroed in on the heart of his lament.
    “No.”
    “Look, Liam. You’re nice enough but
we don’t know each other, so let’s not kid ourselves. Giving me your number in
a bar hardly qualifies you to have a say over who I choose to be with and-”
    “You’re right,” he admitted, holding
his hand up to yield my speech, “but I want that to change. I want to know you
and I don’t want you to see Andrew again.” My eyes narrowed as I studied his
expression. His exterior remained calm and arrogant but his eyes were
different. A subtle longing hung within the depths. A longing perhaps he tried
to ignore when he looked