Limits Michael Taylor x OC Chapter Sixteen Word Count: 2011 Warnings: angst, dickish behavior, let me know if I missed anything. Taglist: @concretejunglefm @lacy1986 @lyinginbetween @foliosgirl @branika182 (feel free to message me or comment below if you want to be added!)
You know that saying, ‘when you know, you know’? I never thought it to be true. Yet, here I was sitting with my best friend behind a closed door while the two men that I loved fought over me like a battle to be won.
“He loves me,” I whispered. He loves me.
It wasn’t like this was news to me, but the words hit my heart like an arrow. Warm, sudden, and painful. Because I knew that I loved him, too. I came back for him, fuck, even my own mother knew I came back for him; I still chose Michael instead, and now I hated myself for it because Noah, although still a piece of shit, would never hurt me the way Michael hurt me tonight.
Flirting with the problem not only in front of me, but also in front of his best friend who happened to be the problem’s boyfriend. Noah was low; the pain from a few months ago still had open wounds that still bled from time to time, but he was not that low. Or maybe he was and I was just being blinded, yet again, by the six foot three tattooed and handsome being that he was.
You are with Michael! My brain kept screaming at me.
“Betty!” Ashley snapped her fingers in front of my face, pulling me out of my spiral. “You good?”
“Noah loves me,” I whispered. I probably looked like a deer in headlights. Eyes wide, frozen in place, and fear in my bones.
“Oh, no no no, not this again. Jesse!” Ashley called out.
“Betty, listen to me,” Jesse grabbed my face in his hands, “I know what you just heard and I know that you are spiraling, but no.”
“But” I muttered, and Jesse was quick to interrupt.
“He left you stranded, in your own fucking bedroom, while he was hitting up some other girl for a quick fuck, when you were literally right fucking there. And lets not forget, he’s the reason you left.”
“You’re wrong,” I shook my head. “He’s the reason I came back.”
Ashley and Jesse both had dumbfounded looks on their faces.
“What?” Ashley furrowed her brows and shook her head at me. “Betty, you’re drunk.”
“Sober, I hardly touched my beer,” I shook the can that was still clutched in my hand, the liquid sloshing inside of it.
“You came back for Noah?” Jesse cleared his throat. “Do we need to call your mother to have her talk some sense into you?”
“She knows,” I rolled my eyes.
“What do you mean she knows?”
“When I was away, back home in the shit-hole that is Indiana, she and I talked. We talked a lot about Noah, probably more than Michael. I realized, slowly, that Michael and I are probably just holding onto the fantasy of what could have been, and grasping so hard onto that, that it might actually be choking the life out of us,” I played with a loose string on my leggings, “I love Michael, of course I do, but Noah and I…”
“Betty, stop,” Jesse whispered. “You and Noah were a disaster.”
“Are Mike and I any better? I fucking cheated on him, he blatantly flirted with the problem in front of me, we moved into this place on a whim thinking it would fix everything but instead, I feel like I’m suffocating.”
“It’s a lot at once,” Ashley nodded, “but you and Mike? You two were basically made for each other!”
“Then why is it so fucking hard right now?” I groaned.
A soft knock on the door pulled our attention, “Come on, we need to go,” Jolly’s voice was calm but I could tell there was something more there.
I stood and walked them out of the apartment, glancing at Michael who was planted on the couch, staring up at the ceiling as if the answers were hidden somewhere on it. I closed the door softly behind me and grabbed Noah’s hand in the hallway before he could get too far from me. “Don’t you have something you want to say to me?” I smiled softly as he turned to face me.
“Mike’s in there waiting for you.”
“No,” I shook my head, “don’t change the subject.” I glanced behind Noah, feeling their eyes on me as they stood by the elevators. Jesse had his arms crossed, looking more like a disappointed father than a friend.
“Fine,” he whispered leaning against the wall, blocking me from their view, “Betty, I’m in love with you. I’ve loved you since you first moved into the room across from mine. Seeing you each morning, your face mask on, your hair up in a messy bun,” he played with a loose strand of my hair that fell from the knot on my head, “looking absolutely hilarious, but absolutely breathtaking at the same time. And when you were able to dish out insults as fast as we were throwing them at you, I knew you could keep up. I knew you could hang.”
“You fell in love with me because I insulted you as much as you insulted everyone else?”
He laughed, “I guess you could say that.”
“Well, than how’s this for an insult?” I leaned in towards him. “You are a fucking asshole, I still kind of hate you for what you did, but fucking hell, I love you.”
“I know,” he smiled at me; a smile that healed some, not all, but some of the open wounds. A smile that vanished as soon as it appeared. “Mike, he loves you. Yeah, he fucked up tonight, and yeah, you two might not be good for each other right now. He loves you, though.”
“But you and I,” I interjected.
“What is meant to be, will eventually be,” he assured. “Now, go to Mike. You two need to talk. Not fuck each other’s brains out talk, but have an actual conversation.”
I rolled my eyes, “I hate that you know about my sex life.”
“Your sex life was once my sex life too, babe.” He winked. He planted a soft kiss to my forehead. “I will talk to you tomorrow. I promise.” I watched as he walked away, and smiled as he glanced at me as the elevator doors closed, a satisfied smile still pressed firmly on his face.
I sighed and stepped back into the apartment. Michael was still sitting on the couch, manspreading and staring up at the ceiling.
“Whatever answers you’re looking for, I don’t think they are up there,” I muttered as I started to clean the kitchen, Jolly already did most of the cleaning as usual.
“What is it with you and Noah?” His voice was calm. I sighed and glanced at him. He’d been crying, the dried up saline from his tears stained his cheeks, and his eyes were tinted red. “And why am I not enough for you?” His voice broke as he hunched over, his elbows on his knees and his hands covering his face. I quickly walked over and rested a hand on his back, rubbing circles in an effort to soothe him. “Why do we always end up here? Why does it feel like you’re still waiting for him to change his mind, to run after you, and why does it feel like you want him to? What does he have that I don’t? What can he give you that I can’t?”
“Mikey, baby, listen to me,” I pulled his face away fro his hands, forcing him to look at me. “Listen to me, please!” He snapped his head up and wiped the tears away from his face.
“I’m listening,” he nodded.
“I love him, of course I do,” I whispered.
“Great start, Elizabeth,” he groaned and rolled his eyes.
“Let me finish,” I whispered again, grabbing his hands in mine. “I know you probably heard what Jesse, Ash, and myself were saying. I won’t deny what you heard. I’m sorry for the words I said. You’re not suffocating. You’re trying to hold us together. You’re trying so fucking hard to hold us together, but then you flirt with Chrissy in front of me and that fucking hurts. Like the progress we’ve been trying to make was for nothing. So yes, I let my brain wander and I am sorry for that. The words I spoke were laced with anger towards you. I never thought I would be the jealous type, but then she shows up looking like a fucking model from a centerfold, and it just made me question.”
He nodded for me to continue speaking.
“Noah and I, there is always going to be a what-if there. What if we worked out. What if we never happened. What if this, what if that. All he will ever be to me is a massive what if. I love him, and yes, there will be times that I will unfortunately think about that what if.”
“So, you love him, but…”
“But he is a what-if.”
“Not loving that, but I get it,” he nodded.
“Michael Matthew Taylor, you are more than enough for me. You give me so much more than he did, and probably ever could,” I smiled gently as I brushed some of his hair out of his face. “You are incredible. I could make a whole list of why you are enough for me and then some. I never, ever, want you to feel like you are not enough.”
“I’d kinda like that list,” he smiled. “But go on.”
I rested my hands on his shoulders and climbed onto his lap, “he has nothing on you. He can’t even compare to you. There is nothing that he could give me that would even come close to what you’ve given me.”
“I really fucking hope you mean that,” he whispered.
“I do,” I whispered.
“How about you show me how much you mean that?” He smirked.
“Not until you’ve taken a shower,” I scrunched my face, “you smell like perfume that isn’t mine.”
“Fine, I’ll go shower first.”
I climbed off of him and stared as he walked off towards the bedroom. I heard the shower start, and the sound of clothes falling on the floor. I groaned as I stood, deciding to join him. Even though I was still pissed at him, I was not about to miss out on my hot naked boyfriend.
I stood in the doorway, watching him from behind the fogged glass of the shower. “Are you just going to stand there, or are you going to join me?”
“Debating if you deserve for me to join you,” I sneered playfully as I walked to the sink to brush my teeth. “I don’t think you’ve earned it.”
“I’m sorry,” he said, and it sounded genuine. “I know that must have hurt you, real bad.”
“It did,” I nodded, my mouth full of toothpaste. “I hate you for it.” I spat the foam from my mouth.
“Come here,” his words were filled with longing.
I groaned and undressed myself, climbing into the shower with him. “Don’t think for a second that your rock-hard abs are going to make this disappear.”
“Yeah, but they help, don’t they?” He whispered in my ear as he washed me down slowly. “I work hard on them so that I don’t have to do as much.” The annoyance in my face must have been loud because he was quick to apologize. “I’m joking, babe.”
“They do help, though,” I smirked.
“I knew it,” he smiled, his cocky demeanor peaking through. He flexed unnecessarily as he rinsed his hair from the conditioner, and I bit my lip as I watched him. Has he always been this ripped, or was this something that he worked on while I was away; or am I just noticing this now because I want to hate fuck him with every cell in my body?
I was probably just noticing it more now because I wanted to hate fuck him with every cell in my body.
