CHERRY BLOSSOMS // Revisited // Bachelorette // 2.7

Geoff saw Rocco for the first time coming out of the can with Nia and walking down the narrow hall back to the bar. Rocco was standing out in the main area and Geoff could see him toe to top. He was standing next to his brother Dino, and Geoff knew how tall Dino was. Rocco dwarfed Dino. He was handsome, too. In a big guy kind of way. He had a thick neck and traps and shoulders. He was enormous, like a pro wrestler, and looked like a villain with all the tattoos and the black hair and black eyes.

“Come meet Rocco,” Nia said, and Geoff noted the happy excitement in her voice—and there came that tension in his belly again.

“Rocco!” she called out, high and breathy, and pulled Geoff behind her. “Rocco,” she called again, and this time got his attention. Geoff noted the smile on Rocco’s face hearing Nia’s voice calling him.

“Rocco, this is Geoff.”

Rocco turned, looked Nia up and down, then over at Geoff. He was a head taller than him; he was huge.

“Ay, Geoff,” Rocco said, “you drive all that way just to come to this dump?” He shook Geoff’s hand and Geoff felt the man’s power. Rocco wasn’t trying to hurt him, didn’t hurt him, but Geoff could feel the restraint, like he was trying to be soft because even his firm handshake grip would break Geoff’s delicate hand.

“And, Geoff,” she said, “this is Rocco,” turning and putting herself next to Rocco, her hand going behind him and rubbing on his back. Nia was thin, her body tight and its shape clear in the slim skirt and top she wore. She was so small next to Rocco. Her waist was like his thigh.

He felt Rocco’s hand, hard as stone in his soft grip, his thick fingers, his muscled palm. Rocco was like a different thing than a human. He gave Rocco a friendly grin and Rocco looked him in the eye and something about it unnerved him.

This was the big man that his wife spent every day with now, five days a week. The handsome brother of her ex-boyfriend. It equated a friendliness or an openness different from if they were just boss and employee. Nia said she wouldn’t fuck him, but had said he was handsome. She’d checked out the bulge in his pants. She saw him sexually. Rocco aroused her. Geoff knew he aroused her.

Then Dino was over, standing behind his brother, something to tell him. Rocco turned and Dino caught Geoff’s eye, knew who he was, and didn’t acknowledge him at all. He was sullen and blank. He looked in Geoff’s eye then coldly away to his brother. They talked close and conspiratorial.

Nia said, “Geoff, do you want a drink? Let’s get you a drink,” and led him to the bar.

There had been a fight. It was short-lived and had no real winner. It was at the front of the Tavern and it spilled outside into the chilly porch light yard. The door was left open and after a scuffle and someone getting jerseyed and punched but not knocked down, there were a lot of shouted threats and finger jabbing. Two grown men too, rough and grey-haired and beer bellied.

She saw the malaise it put into Geoff. This wasn’t her kind of place either, but she was here with Rocco and she felt safe. Geoff was hunched at the bar, sitting on a stool, and she knew he was trying to keep out of trouble. He’d pulled her aside about an hour ago and asked when they were going. She said another hour; she was having fun, and he said okay but he reminded her of his punchable face. She laughed, but she could see it. In a bar like this he was prey and a lot of the alphas here, the unstable ones, would pick on a guy like Geoff to raise their rank amongst the stable alphas. Stable true alphas wouldn’t give Geoff a minute of their time.

She walked, beer in hand, a warm feeling of love and sympathy for the man she married, and went to him, ran her hands up his back, felt him flinch.

“Thought one of these big burly guys was coming on to you?”

“Ha ha, no, you tickled me,” he said.

“Having a good time?”

“Yeah, yeah,” he lied, raising his eyebrows high and smiling wanly at her. She knew he wanted to go, that this place made him nervous, but she was having fun. It was a long week and she and Rocco worked hard and she’d been looking forward to blowing off steam all afternoon.

Then, as if sensing her thought, Geoff raised his beer and clinked it to hers and said, “This is a lot different than watching TV on the couch, isn’t it?”

“It is,” she said, and took a swig from her bottle. Working with Rocco was proving to be less intimidating than she had thought when she first started. He was big and scary and loud, but all you had to do was your job and he wouldn’t bug you. There was a bit of a tension, like a worry that if you fucked up and got caught, or didn’t move fast enough that he was going to call you out on it in front of everyone. She’d seen it many times, but he’d never come down on her. He’d been rough with her a few times, letting her know she was close to pissing him off, but she got a grip of herself real quick and straightened herself out and did what he wanted. And there was something celebratory about making it through a long and brutal work week and doing it with Rocco. She cared about Rocco and cared about his business. Coming out and celebrating like this was important, and it felt really good.

And, speak of the devil, just then a hand on her back that could be no other. She didn’t need to turn, felt its size pressed against her, felt its carefully restrained but immense power.

“There’s my Nia.” Rocco’s deep baritone traveled through her like the rumble of a motorcycle.

“Hey,” she said, holding back the fun-loving smile he usually brought out of her, but her eyes sparkled just the same. Geoff looked up at Rocco, standing now with his arm around his wife, and he looked—she could see it cross his face—like this was more than he could handle.

Rocco went behind Geoff and around him, across the other side, so he could face Nia with her husband between them. He leaned his enormous bulk into the bar, his shoulder coming up high around his ear. His eyes were narrow cool slits, his face sly and confident. He said to Geoff, “Look how lucky you are.”

“I know,” Geoff said, turning to Rocco, dwarfed by him, sitting hunched on his stool.

Rocco smiled wider, said, “One lucky son of a bitch, all right.”

Geoff held his hand out to her, nodded, and Nia put her hand in his and he rubbed the back of her fingers, saying, “I know. Every day I know.”

“You ever tasted her chicken parm? I have. I tasted it. Best chicken parm ever,” Rocco said, smiling slyly at her. She laughed, getting very uncomfortable for Geoff. Rocco’s innuendo was clumsy and obvious. And unwelcome.

She laughed to lighten it up, said, “He loves my chicken parm,” and she rubbed her hand on Geoff’s back, over his black cotton sweater.

But she left herself open and Rocco said, “What man wouldn’t?” and took a swig from his beer bottle.

Geoff grimaced and clutched the beer he’d been nursing for an hour now, hands wringing the brown glass as this night was eating him up inside. But he did like that. He said he liked it.

So she bumped her thigh into him, leaned against her husband, said to Rocco, “That’s why I’m careful who I let taste it.”

A dangerous flirtation with someone who was your boss, but this was for Geoff. She did get a little tingle though, too, knowing it would turn both of them on.

Rocco smiled, kept her eyes, said, “Hey, Canada Day weekend. I’m having a party at the cottage. You two come up, bring Odele.”

“Yeah, that’s great,” she said. “What do you think, Geoff—take Odie up to the lake?”

“Where’s your cottage?” Geoff asked, looking straight ahead across to the mirror behind the bar. She could see the energy drained from his body.

Nia nudged Geoff, said, “It’s in Haliburton.”

Rocco said, “Come on up, it’s a good time. Get this one in a swimsuit,” he said to Geoff, but looking at her the whole time. Rocco was a big guy and held his alcohol, but she could see this was how he could be when he drank. She was seeing what was underneath all that boisterous control. Rocco had desires. Of course he did. All men did. But she was seeing what she used to see right now from the opposite sex. She liked it too. What she could do to men. Make them irrational and primal. Turn them on and swipe society out of their vision and want to just fuck and not give a shit about consequences. She felt a tingle and worried about it. Seeing Rocco like this was turning her on, and she liked it. She just received the message from Rocco that he was sending her. It was undeniable. Rocco wanted to fuck her.

Bad idea, Nia. Rocco was her boss, he was married, he had kids. Maybe Geoff and her were dancing around the idea of experimenting, but Rocco was a fucking landmine.

Then, laughter behind her. Bubbling drunken girl energy. Angie and Sheila stumbling behind her, shouting, “There you are,” slurring and happy, then dragging her off to dance. She felt herself pulled back and saw Geoff and Rocco watching her. Geoff plaintive, Rocco sinister.

Standing there watching his wife dance with her pretty friends, an uneasiness melted over him. He could lose her. She could fall in love with another man.

Watching her body move, her sweaty skin and her graceful legs below her short skirt . . . But he and Nia were best friends, and they were in love and they had a baby girl they were raising. Still, she was a drop dead bombshell with long legs and a sexy smile and charm and humor. Maybe he was never good enough for her. Maybe that’s all he ever was: Nia’s best friend. Maybe they never should have been a couple, like he was just in the right place at the right time all those years ago. A timing eclipse where he appeared good enough and safe enough for her and she was tired of all the macho dick-slinging she was getting, tired and hurt and fed up. If she’d stuck it out, maybe she’d be going home tonight with a different man she’d call her husband, some tall, rugged beefcake whose arm she’d look wonderful on. He’d take her home and give her the big old pipe she craved and do all those manly things in bed that Geoff only dreamed of. Maybe he’d still be her friend and meet her for coffees on Sunday mornings or come to her house and bake her some sweet treats.

Standing on either side of him now, Rocco and Dino, two hockey-playing neanderthals with big dicks. And she’d fucked one of them already. Sucked him and put her finger up his ass when he came in her mouth. Probably. Most assuredly. The other one he knew she wanted to do those things to. And he told her she could. He had a fantasy where she did them both at the same time. He felt a sudden guilt, like maybe he was corrupting her. She’d been reformed, and he’d been her redeemer and now here he was urging her to be her old bad self. Just because it made him hard, and he wanted to be like that old nostalgic Geoff that made everything better for her after she messed up with yet another bad boy. This was who she was, though. She was a bad girl. She wanted this, too. They both wanted it—and now they were married and inseparable. Rock solid. This would be fun and they would enjoy it and then it would be over and just a sexy memory for them.

The two big brothers were watching Nia, too. Both turned, their shoulders against Geoff, swigging Canadian from bottles and leaning back against the worn rail of the bar. Nia danced in the lit room, danced now to Kim Mitchell while the haggard drunken old bikers encouraged her and her friends. All of them having fun, shaking their asses, hands up over their heads, five young women screaming lyrics at each other through their drunken smiles. He loved her more than anything.

“Ay, you believe this is the guy who stole your Nia?” Rocco said, leaning forward and talking to his brother.

Dino looked down at Geoff, face grave and unimpressed.

Geoff said, “Hey, Dino.”

“Hey,” Dino said, slow and steady, expression not changing.

Geoff looked back to Rocco, staring at Nia, licking his beer-soaked lips, his eyes red and watery, shaking his head in apparent admiration.

“Yeah,” Dino said, watching Nia as well, cool and level, his eyes locked on her body out there. “She was the one. Fuck, was she something.”

The way he said it squeezed at Geoff’s insides, made him twist and hurt in a strange and exciting way. Nia was something, but her heart was all his.

A nearby woman’s voice: “The one what?”

Dino turned to see his wife, Stacy, next to him. Not smiling, not having fun. Stacy was striking, a beautiful face and a great figure, but she’d been giving birth and raising kids for some time now and she was no Nia. She knew she was no Nia. Stacy watched Nia on the dance floor, standing like her husband and his brother, and the woman’s husband.

Dino shifted, uneasy but didn’t say a thing. Then he turned his back to the room and put his elbows on the bar and rubbed his face, looking off to the side, out the window at the lake, but just seeing his own reflection.

Stacy watched Nia dance. Her eyes filled with hatred, her once pretty mouth turned down and creased with lines.

They’d asked Geoff to help get Dino’s motorcycle into Rocco’s truck and her husband fumbled around in the pickup bed, had struggled to lift the chainsaw to make room. They’d all decided that Rocco had too much drink to drive home, and it had got really late. No one could talk sense to Rocco, and he was stubborn as a bull. It took Dino’s wife, Stacy, to reason with him, calm him down. So they backed that huge pickup to a hill and Geoff struggled to clear the bed and make way. Then Dino used one of the two long adjustable wheel ramps Rocco used for tractors and his ATVs, and he rode his vintage fat-tired Indian along from the hill and into the bed of the pickup. Geoff helped Dino tie it down with ratchet straps and he pinched his thumb, saying, “Good thing it wasn’t my drawing hand.” Rocco wasn’t so drunk he was passed out, just drunk enough he shouldn’t be behind the wheel of his monster truck. He climbed into the passenger seat and Dino drove, Stacy laying down for a nap in the back seat.

Geoff held her close to him and they waved while Dino drove off, then they got in the car and headed home, following along behind Dino until they lost him on the 400 as he was a much faster driver than Geoff.

“Thanks for coming all the way up to see me, Geoff. I’m glad you came.”

“That thing in the bathroom, I mean, hoo . . . I’d drive any distance for that.”

She smiled at her reflection in the side window. “What’d you think of Rocco?” She knew the answer, saw the way he’d acted. She still wanted to know.

“What was with all that chicken parm shit?”

“I don’t know,” she laughed.

“He wants to fuck you.”

“Yeah, I think he does.”

Geoff shook his head, said, “I don’t know.”

“What don’t you know?”

“I don’t know about him.”

“He’s my boss, Geoff, I can’t anyway. He’s married. He has kids.”

“You’re married. You have a kid.”

“Fuck, Geoff, this was your fucking ide—”

He put his hands up in surrender, said, “I know, I know. I just mean you don’t know what goes on in other people’s marriages.”

“Yeah,” she said, slumping back in her seat now.

“I can’t believe I’m letting you do this.”

“Letting me? Geoff, you’re begging for me to do it.”

“Not begging.”

“Don’t put this on me, make me sound like I’m forcing this on you.”

They drove in silence for a while and she watched out the windows. Watched the black tree horizon slowly slide along, the swishing guardrail of the 400, listened to the hiss of the tires on the asphalt. She was into this now. She really was. She was looking forward to being with another man. There was something her sweet and loving husband didn’t deliver, and it had nothing to do with the size of his completely satisfying penis. There were things she liked that she didn’t feel easy about enjoying. And the idea was so exciting—that those old teenage Nia fantasies could be brought back to her, all those things she would masturbate over and then later, when she was older, get, could be hers again.

“What do you want from this?”

“What do you mean?”

“What do you want that’s not me?” Geoff was a mind reader.

She said, “I love you, Geoff.”

“Yeah, I know, but there’s . . . I don’t know, you want someone else because it’s hot. We both agree. But you’re not going after some 160 pound guy with blonde hair and a beard. What is it you want? You like . . . what?”

“We went over this, Geoff.”

“Yeah, but what’s missing. Is it just physical?”

“No. Yes and no.”

“What’s the no?”

“The no? Fuck, Geoff. The truth? The tr—”

“We’re only doing truth, Nia, from now on. Remember?”

“Yeah. Okay, yeah. The truth is I like it rough.”

“You do?”

“I like it . . . really rough.”

“How rough?”

“Rougher than you’re ready for.”

“Holy. Okay.”

“You okay?”

“Yeah. Turned on.”

“Really?” She laughed. Watched him as he drove, saw the look on his face, a wild and desperate and somehow sad expression.

“Incredibly turned on,” he said.

“That’s good,” she said, laughed and shook her head.

“You relieved?”

“Yeah, I really am. It feels good to say it.”

“So you want a guy on the side who really fucks the shit out of you?”

“Basically. I can’t believe this.” She couldn’t help a smile spreading across her face. She tapped her thumbnail on her bottom teeth and looked out the window again. She could say it, but she could still feel self conscious about it.

Geoff said, “Me neither. You think I could ever be rough?”

“No, Geoff. I don’t want that from you. It would be fake. You’d be acting. I would be so aware of that it would take me out of it. I want it hard and . . . male. Animal.”

“Okay,” he said.

“You still okay?”

“Mm-hmm,” he nodded. “Yeah, I feel . . . crazy but, yeah, I’m okay.”

“Don’t change your mind.”

Geoff shook his head no and watched out the window as they swept along the highway. The truth was out. Kind of. It felt good at first. But she saw a sheen of sweat develop on Geoff’s face, saw his dry skin take on a shine right before her eyes. And she wondered if she’d had too much to drink. There was honesty and then there was temperance. Maybe the things she kept inside should be kept inside. Maybe honesty wasn’t as important as everyone said it was.

She covered her face up with her hands and rubbed at her eyes. She should keep it inside. It was better inside. She wished now she hadn’t called Geoff to come tonight.