We need to hear from Lauren, but I want to wrap up Kinsley's current storyline before that happens. There are a few posts to go, which means you guys will be getting some Kinsley bonus posts, including this one. I love being able to post bonuses again! Check back for a regular storyline post on Sunday, and if you didn't see the regular storyline post I put up last night, don't miss it. Fast forwarding through Kinsley's story with the bonuses means that her timeline is a little ahead of Liv and Brody's, but it shouldn't make a difference.
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After the almost-threesome incident, I stopped checking Tinder. I took a sick day on Friday, and I didn't even feel bad about it. My eyes were so red and puffy that there was no way a single thing I did would make me look like a reasonable human being before lunch time. I didn't even wait until an appropriate booty-call hour (aka after 9 pm), and I texted Cole as soon as I had manipulated my face into some semblance of normal. "Day from hell, need to blow off some steam...free tonight?"
"Plans with friends, but not until later. Right after work?" I agreed and we decided on my house again. I spent the entire rest of the afternoon distracted, anticipating that evening.
When Cole got there, he presented me with a bag from one of the places we used to get lunch from when he still worked at my job. "What is this?" I asked.
"Food," Cole responded, nudging me aside so he could come in.
"But why? I asked, completely suspicious of his intentions. One does not typically buy food for their fuck buddy, and now he'd done it twice.
Reading my mind, he rolled his eyes and opened the bag. "Two reasons. One: I have three hours and no intention of leaving here until you've blown everything you need to blow...I mean, blown off everything you need to." I glared at him. "See? You're bitchy enough on your own, I don't need you even crabbier from low blood sugar," he continued, unfazed by my dirty look. "And two: I'm meeting my friends relatively close to here and have no intentions of going home, so eating before I go is a good plan."
He handed me my food, and I was even more skeptical when I saw that he'd ordered me exactly what I'd order for lunch...which meant he paid attention and remembered it. "Relax, for fuck's sake," he said, wandering into my kitchen and opening drawers, looking for silverware. "I don't want any more out of this little arrangement than you do. I just happen to be completely unable to stifle my gentlemanly ways from time to time. Enjoy it while you can."
Reassured a little bit, I took my food, pulled open the proper drawer, and handed utensils to Cole. He made himself at home at my kitchen table. "Is your house always so clean?" he asked, looking around. "Every time I've been here. It's kind of amazing."
"Not always," I admitted. "Only when I need a constant distraction."
"Ah," he said, nodding. He clearly understood my insinuation.
Eager to get away from that topic, I grinned at him. "Want to hear a ridiculous story?"
"Of course," he replied. So I told him about my Tinder date the night before. He seemed to not care one bit that I was going out with other guys and meeting them on Tinder. He didn't say a word about it. He about died laughing when I got to the good stuff. "So did you do it?" he asked, once he'd caught his breath.
"Are you fucking kidding?" I shrieked. "Of course not!"
He shrugged. "You never know. It wouldn't be the first time you surprised me."
I balled up my napkin and threw it at him, and I laughed as it bounced off his forehead. "Oh, now you've done it," he said, shaking his head and trying to keep a straight face.
"Yeah? So what?"
"Just wait. I'll get you back. But first, I'm going to finish my dinner."
I rolled my eyes, not at all concerned. We finished eating, and he grabbed both our trash and utensils. I watched him put the trash in the garbage can, slightly wary after his threat. As he walked to the sink with our silverware, his phone vibrated on the other side of the table, drawing my attention. I turned to look at it, and was rewarded with a blast of cold water to the back of my head.
"You motherfucker!" I yelped, spinning around.
Cole was leaning casually against the sink, the sprayer in hand. "Whoops," he said, smirking.
"I swear to God I will kill you," I threatened, standing up.
"Will you?" he asked. I took a step towards him and got another blast of cold water, this one to the front of my shirt. Already soaked, I lunged at him, knocking the sprayer out of his hand. I somehow ended up between him and the counter. He held me there with his hips while his hands pinned my arms to my side, effectively subduing me. "Told you I'd get you back," he said, raising and lowering his eyebrows. "And damn, you are hot when you're all wet."
I glared at him, then relaxed my face. "I guess we'd better get me out of these wet clothes then, huh?" I asked. He looked at me suspiciously, then shifted us so he was between me and the sink, cutting off my path to the sprayer for revenge. I shivered (not even for show, the central air was kicking out cold air right at me, and I was drenched with cold water). "Seriously," I said, pouting at him. "It's cold."
He released my hands and I backed away from the sink and his body, pulling my shirt off over my head. Then I shimmied out of my yoga pants, turning away from him and bending down as I took them off, putting on a show for him. I stood up straight, back still to him, now clad in just my bra, thong, and socks. Then I bent again, and slowly took my socks off. I'd just set my second foot back down when he smacked my ass just hard enough to make me jump and said, "You're a wicked tease." I turned back towards him and smiled as he backed me up to the table and lifted me onto it. He was walking right into my trap. I grabbed two handfuls of his shirt and spread my knees apart, pulling him between them.
He finally kissed me, and I kept one hand balled around a handful of his shirt, while I let the other one roam for awhile. He didn't even seem to notice when that hand left him, because he was too busy pulling my breasts from my bra. He did notice, however, when I dumped the glass of water on his head that had been on the table just behind me.
"You manipulative, sneaky little--"
"Careful, Cole," I warned him with a smirk, cutting him off before the rest of whatever he was going to say came out. "Now we're both wet."
He laughed and took the now-empty glass out of my hand and set it in the sink. Then he came back, unhooked my bra and yanked it off, and kissed me hard. After several seconds, he tugged me off the table, turned me around, and bent me over the top of the table. He kept me there with one hand resting lightly between my shoulder blades. A signal to stay, but not enough pressure to keep me there if I didn't want to be. This wasn't some weird 50 Shades of Grey bullshit, just some enthusiastic, hair-pulling (I hoped), slightly rough sex. His other hand yanked my underwear down, then quickly busied itself between my thighs. It wasn't long at all before I was squirming against the top of the table.
He moved both hands from me, leaving me breathlessly sprawled over the table, and I heard his zipper, then the crinkle of a condom wrapper. Then his hand was on my hip, lightly caressing it, and he was pressing into me. I groaned as he sunk into me excruciatingly slowly, then pulled out, just as slowly. He kept going like that until I was writhing against the table and begging him to just fuck me. Then he leaned forward, grabbed my hair hard enough that my back arched and my upper body lifted slightly off the table, and slammed hard into me. 5 seconds of that was enough to send me rocketing over the edge again, and I sunk back against him as my legs gave out, refusing to hold me up a second longer. He picked me up and sat me back down on the table and we finished off that way at a much easier, gentler pace.
I dropped my head onto his shoulder (the closest he was going to get to post-sex cuddling from me) and he stroked my back, sliding his thumb up and down along my spine. "Would you have a threesome with me?" he asked.
My head popped up and I glared at him. He was, of course, smirking at me. "No," I snapped. "I'm going to regret telling you that story, aren't I?" I pushed him away from me, and he laughed as he bent to retrieve his jeans from the floor.
"Can't blame me for asking, can you?" He held out a hand to help me off the table and I just stared at him and hopped down on my own. He shook his head and chuckled as I collected my clothes and got dressed again.
It took almost another week, but the next Thursday, I suddenly realized that I was okay. Really, truly okay--not just telling myself that I was. For the first time in three weeks (longer actually, if you counted the week that we were in limbo) I didn't feel empty. I didn't feel like I was going to throw up every time Damien popped into my head. Don't get me wrong...I still missed him and I still loved him, but I finally felt like I was starting to move forward instead of just dragging myself hopelessly through each day. I felt so okay, in fact, that I deleted Tinder completely.
On Friday, I went to the gym with Liv. I missed having a workout buddy. I stayed for an hour instead of two or more, as I had been. I even let her drag me to the grocery store with her afterwards, and I realized that she was right--grocery shopping on Friday evenings was kind of awesome.
When I got home, I put my groceries away and took a shower. When I got out, I had a text waiting for me from Cole, and I realized with surprise that I didn't have a strong desire to see him. I kind of just wanted to relax. I texted him back, requesting a rain check, then pulled on some comfortable clothes. Minutes later, my phone rang, and I grabbed it, figuring I'd have to deny Cole's booty call again.
I did a double-take when I saw that the person calling was Damien. I hesitated a second, and then I answered. "Hello?"
"Kinsley," he said. "I need to see you."
"Why?" I asked. It came out sounding a lot more hostile than I meant it to.
"Because I fucked up, and I'm sorry, and I miss you." I was silent. I didn't know what to say. Up until--quite literally--36 hours ago, I would have been thrilled. But I had spent 3 weeks getting past the point where every time my phone vibrated, I hoped it was him. I'd finally gotten there, and this motherfucker is going to come out of nowhere? "Kinsley?" I'd been silent for too long, and now he was nervous.
"Jesus, Damien, what the fuck?" I snapped. "This is bullshit."
"I know," he replied, even though he couldn't possibly know exactly what I was referring to. "I know it is. You're right. But I've had too much time to think, and I was wrong and I really, really want to see you." Again, I was silent. I considered this. What if we could make this work? What if he was willing to cut down time with his family? Did I even want him to do that? What did I want? "Kinsley?"
"I just need a fucking minute to think," I growled. I was surprised how angry I was. I was pissed. But I almost couldn't believe he was putting up with the way I was talking to him. Back to thinking. If I went and saw him, and it turned out that he couldn't actually give me what I wanted, I was setting myself up for another disastrous few weeks. I mean, I had just deleted Tinder, I didn't want to have to download it again. But if I didn't go...would I always wonder? I missed him. I missed him more than I realized I was capable of missing anyone, and as amazing as fucking Cole had been, it couldn't compare to having sex with someone I loved. Because I did love Damien. Ugh. "I'll be there in a half hour," I said. I hung up without waiting for him to answer.
I decided not to change out of my short cotton shorts and tight tank top, but I did put a bra on at least. I brushed my teeth and my hair and put on eyeliner, mascara, and lip gloss. And then I left.
The whole drive there, I was nervous. My hands were sweating and my stomach was flipping. I still wasn't sure what I wanted out of this. Closure? Reunification? Sex with him one last time? I also kind of just wanted to fucking yell at him.
He opened the door before I even made it all the way up the walk. I stopped on his front porch and we stared at each other for a few seconds. "How are you?" he asked, and I thought it was the stupidest question.
"I'm fucking pissed at you," I replied. "I was finally starting to feel normal again. Finally! And then you had to call me and interrupt my normal and make me feel all sorts of feelings that I never wanted to feel, but you made me feel anyway. And for a little while, I even liked it! But then we fucked it all up. I fucked up, you fucked up, we both fucked up. We fucked it up, and then I didn't want to feel those goddamn feelings anymore, and I was finally getting them to go away, and now I'm here and I still fucking feel them, and I hate you for it."
"Do you want to come in?"
I blinked at him. "Are you kidding?"
"No. You have every right to be angry at me. But why stand on my front porch and yell at me when you could come in and yell at me?"
"You are infuriating," I huffed, pushing past him.
"Why?"
"I just stood on your goddamn front porch and yelled at you. I swore at you. I told you I was pissed at you, and I told you I hate you, and you're calm and reasonable and I fucking hate it! I fucking hate that I am so worked up about you that I'm making a goddamn scene like an idiotic high schooler, and you are calm as can be. Do you feel anything? Ever?"
"I feel a lot of things," he said evenly. "I feel all the same things you're feeling, actually. I also miss you a lot, and I love you, and I feel like an idiot and a shitty person for the way I handled things, especially at the end. And I don't want it to be the end. But I don't get worked up, and you know that. That's not me, that's not how I operate. Is that what you want? For me to stand here and yell at you?"
"No," I admitted. The idea of Damien getting angry and yelling was actually terrifying, and I started feeling ashamed for the way I was acting. But then I raised my eyes back to him. "So what, is that just another thing you 'won't change'?"
He took a step towards me, and when I didn't move, he took another step. "Maybe you need an outlet for your anger," he suggested. I narrowed my eyes. "And I can show you my feelings." Then he kissed me. And let me tell you, he kissed me like he'd never fucking kissed me before. His tongue sought mine aggressively, and when I reached for him and gripped his arms tightly, he pushed a hand into my hair, and then took hold of a handful, tightly.
"Mmmm," I groaned, as he pulled my head to the side and nipped at my earlobe. This was usually as as rough as he would push it--a little bit of hair pulling. Nothing crazy, just a good grip on a handful of my hair. He knew I loved it, and he wasn't worried about hurting me, so he was perfectly comfortable with it. He moved his mouth down my neck, sucking and biting as the fingers of his other hand dug hard into my hip. "Jesus, Damien," I hissed, pressing my hips against his as his teeth raked my collarbone.
I pushed against him, backing him up until he bumped against the back of his couch. He spun us around so that we were both facing the same direction, and I was pressed up against the back of the couch. His hands were up my shirt, shoving my bra up and out of the way. I whimpered as he pinched and tugged on my nipples and kissed the back of my neck. One hand stayed up my shirt while the other slipped down my shorts. He stroked me twice before slipping a finger inside me. I wiggled around to face him, disrupting his ministrations. "This needs to go," I growled, tugging at his shirt. He let me yank it up and he slipped it the rest of the way off. I ran my hands from his waistband up over his tightly muscled abs and chest, pausing to dig my fingers into his chest. He exhaled audibly and shut his eyes briefly.
"Bedroom, now," he commanded. I smirked. I loved bossy Damien. Usually when he got demanding, he didn't have the actions to back it up, but tonight was different. We made it halfway up the stairs before I turned and pressed him against the wall, kissing him hard. I ground my hips against his, feeling how turned on he was. I didn't think I could make it all the way to his bedroom. Apparently he was having similar thoughts, because all of a sudden he was pulling my shorts over my hips. He got two fingers inside me and his thumb on my clit, and I moaned and dug my nails into his chest.
The next thing I knew, I was on my knees on the stairs and he was two steps below me, pushing into me from behind. I had a brief thought of how unsafe this was, but it quickly fled my brain as he sunk all the way into me, pulled out almost all the way, and slammed back in. I came twice as he thrust furiously into me, but when he finished, I wasn't ready to be done. I peeled myself off the stairs, grabbed his hand, and pulled him towards his bedroom.
We both laid on the bed and stared at each for several seconds, then I closed my eyes and kissed him. My fury was gone, and I kissed him slowly, savoring the moment. He held my face with both hands, one thumb brushing lightly across my cheekbone. His other hand lifted, and his fingertips traveled my jawline, then down my throat, across my collarbone and lower still. He cupped my breast and lightly brushed his thumb across my nipple, and in contrast to his rough touch just minutes earlier, this felt tender and somehow even more intense. I slid my hand down his stomach and was surprised to find him hard again. He groaned against my lips as I wrapped my hand around him and stroked him lightly.
Without breaking our kiss, he moved between my legs and guided himself into me. This time, he moved slowly, and his hand in my hair didn't twist or pull. I gripped his back but didn't dig my nails in. He thrust slowly in and out of me for what felt like forever. Sometimes he stopped moving and we just laid there kissing, with him still inside me. I moaned into our kiss as he picked up his pace slightly and changed his angle so he could grind his pelvis against mine. I broke our kiss for the first time, pressing my forehead to his and whispering, "fuck...Damien, ohhh...Jesus," and a few other random nonsensical syllables. I felt the muscles in his back and legs tighten and knowing he was close sent me over the edge. I moaned and my hips spasmed against his and then he shuddered and we were done. We laid there silently, foreheads pressed together, breathing the same air.
When he finally rolled off of me, I rolled with him so we both ended up on our sides, still facing each other. My lips sought his and we shared a soft, lingering kiss. Then I scooted down the bed a little so I could tuck my head under his chin, and I pressed my body against his. I slid my leg between his and wrapped it around the bottom one. I wormed one arm between him and the mattress so I could wrap both arms around him.
"Close enough?" Damien asked, laughing softly.
"No," I replied, my voice muffled by his chest. He tightened his arms around me, holding me tightly, and finally, for the first time since my phone rang earlier this evening, I relaxed. I melted against him, my body molding to his, and I breathed deeply. He smelled like soap, and sweat, and sex. "I'm still mad at you," I mumbled.
"Okay," he replied, stroking my back lightly with his thumb. "I'm still mad at you, too."
"Good," I said. "You should be."
"I don't want to be."
"I know," I responded. I stayed where I was a few seconds longer, then I rolled away. Damien rolled onto his back and I shifted so I could put my head on his chest. I still wrapped my top leg over his right leg, the one closest to me, and stretched my right arm across his torso, wrapping it around him. I wanted to be touching as much of him as possible.
"Are you staying tonight?" he asked me.
That was a good question. Was I? Whether or not I stayed seemed like a big fucking deal right now. If I stayed, I was acknowledging that I wanted to be with him. To stay with him. To fix this. If I left without acknowledging what just happened, I was leaving it up in the air. If I left and said goodbye, we were done for good. What did I want?
I was surprised to realize that not even the smallest part of me wanted to leave things open ended, the way he had done to me. I could kind of be a vindictive bitch, so that surprised me. If I stayed, I was opening myself back up to be hurt like that again. If I left, I was quite possibly closing myself off forever. I knew myself well enough to know that. I took a deep, shaky breath.
"Yeah, I'm staying tonight."
Friday, July 31, 2015
Thursday, July 30, 2015
Guest List
On Tuesday, I used my lunch break to walk over to the office that belonged to Carla, our HR person. I sat down and told her what I was looking for and we talked through my options. The more I'd thought about it, the more I liked the idea of going down to .75 FTE. I loved my job, and I loved to work and didn't ever want to not work, but my job could be emotionally exhausting at times and I wasn't always very good at taking care of myself. I'd realized, when I weighed my options, that decreasing my hours would very likely help me be even better at my job and enjoy it more. And now that I didn't financially need to be full time, I couldn't really think of any reasons (besides sheer stubbornness!) to not do something that would help me do better work with my clients and take care of myself better.
"You're sure this is okay?" I asked for what must have been the third time, after getting the salary and benefit information for the .75 FTE position.
Carla smiled. "Yes, it's fine. You're not the first to do something like this! If Kelly gives you a hard time at all, let me know, but I don't think she will."
I thanked her and walked down to Kelly's office, hoping she'd be free. She was, and I went in and sat down, then explained my plans. I had already done a little problem solving with Carla, and was able to tell Kelly about the two clients I'd been talking to about closing in the next few weeks, one that I thought would be ready soon, and another that wanted to drop down to every other week. We refigured my schedule to make sure I could fit the rest of my clients in. We revisited a conversation we'd had a couple weeks ago about transitioning one of my families to someone that might be a better fit for them, as they were wanting someone that was a bit more direct in session than I was. In the end, we got it figured out, and if all went according to plan, I'd only have one Saturday left and would be able to start my new schedule in two weeks.
When I got back to my office, I emailed the plan to Carla and quickly got ready for my next client. The rest of my work day flew by, and I decided to keep my office door shut between clients to discourage Josh's presence. It worked, and I didn't see him all day.
Brody was going to pick up pizza on his way home so we could finish the timeline and guest list tonight and get the info to Lauren's mom so she could start our invitations. I decided to hit the gym after work, figuring that getting some endorphins going would help me get through finishing the guest list without killing Brody every time he tried to add someone.
I had an awesome workout, and I got so sucked into my weights that I didn't realize how much time had passed. I was expecting Brody home around 7:30, and I now barely had enough time to get home and shower. I walked a few cool down laps around the track, then stopped to stretch out my already tight hamstrings and calves. I grabbed my bag out of my locker and headed out, hurrying home.
I beat Brody home and got in the shower. Once under the hot spray of the shower head I bent, stretching my legs again. My calf was a little more sore than it should be already. I'd have to take it easy for a couple days.
After I got out of the shower, I wrapped myself in a towel and walked towards the bedroom. I paused in the doorway, flexing my foot to stretch my calf again. "What are you doing?" I jumped and stifled a yelp, then gritted my teeth and sucked in a shaky breath. Brody was standing at his dresser, taking off his tie and watching me. "Sorry," he said sheepishly. "I didn't mean to scare you."
"Fuck," I said, taking another deep breath to slow my heart rate. "I'm still so jumpy," I commented, my fingers moving to tug nervously on my wet hair. My nightmares from my encounter with Jordan were all but gone, but I still just about jumped out of my skin every time the wind blew, it seemed.
"I thought you saw me," he said, coming over and pulling me into a hug. "What were you doing?"
I tilted my head up for a kiss, and then said, "Stretching my calf. I pissed it off at the gym tonight. I'm not sure how, but it's definitely angry." I stepped over to my dresser and pulled out a pair of shorts and a tank top and got dressed quickly. I rubbed the towel over my head, trying not to tangle my hair hopelessly, and then went back into the bathroom to comb it out and hang up my towel.
We made our way downstairs and Brody got pizza onto plates for us while I got my laptop out. We elected to sit on the living room floor, and I read him the email I'd gotten back from Leigh, with her opinions on a time line for the day. We discussed it, agreed with what she'd suggested, and moved on to the guest list.
"Are you going to invite Jon and Nadine and the kids?" Brody asked, referring to my newly found grandparents and half-siblings.
"I don't know," I said, grimacing. "I've been thinking about it and part of me wants to, but I just don't know. Is it weird?"
He shrugged. "I don't think it's weird. It's your call, but I think you might regret it if you don't at least invite them. You and Sarah have been talking fairly regularly." That was true. We texted weekly, sometimes as often as for an hour or two at a time, every couple days. I had been meaning to try to plan a trip out to Utah to visit them, but then Brody proposed and everything got a little crazy.
"That's kind of what I was thinking too," I agreed. "Okay, I'll put them on there."
It took us over an hour, but we finally finalized the guest list. I emailed it to him so he could work on getting addresses for his people. We spent the next half hour sending emails for addresses, and I sent the timeline and list to Lauren's mom. Finally, we both set our laptops aside, done for the night. We both moved up to the couch, and Brody reached down and pulled my feet into his lap. I told him about what we'd worked out at work while he gently massaged first my right calf, then my sore left calf.
"I'm glad you got something figured out," he said, gently manipulating the tight muscle in my leg. "You really did piss your calf off."
"I know," I pouted, wincing a little as he felt the knotted muscle. He told me about his day while he gently worked at the stubborn muscle, finally getting it to loosen up a little. He continued, working it a little looser, then shifted and ran his hands up my legs. When he got to my hips, he paused and wrapped his hands around my waist, tugging me towards him and into a laying position. Then he eased himself down between my legs, supporting his weight on his hands, which he planted next to my head.
He kissed me, and I reached up and wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him closer. He lowered himself onto his forearms, freeing one hand to stroke and play with my hair as we kissed. We laid on the couch for a long time, making out like teenagers, until Brody finally sat up and pulled me up with him. He pulled me into his lap and tugged my tank top up and over my head. We both shed our clothing and I climbed back onto the couch, straddling Brody's legs. I kissed him as his hands ran up and down my legs, then over my ass, then up to my breasts. I moaned against his lips as he brushed his thumbs across my nipples, then moved his mouth to my neck. His hands slid down my back and he cupped my ass, lifting me slightly and pulling me closer, and I guided him inside me.
When we were finished, we went straight up to get ready for bed. Brody had been getting up really early to get to work so he could get home at a reasonable time, and I was always up for going to bed early. We got ready for bed together in the bathroom, brushing our teeth at the "his" and "hers" sinks and making faces at each other in the mirror. I barely got my mouthful of toothpaste spit into the sink before I cracked up. "Hi, we're 12," I said, once I caught my breath.
He spit and rinsed his mouth, then shrugged. "We have to act like adults all day at work, I see no reason to do so at home!" He turned the water back and washed his hands, then flicked the remaining water off at me.
"Hey!" I shrieked, laughing again as he wrapped his arms around me in a bear hug and playfully nibbled at my neck. I wiped the water off my face onto the shoulder of his t-shirt and slipped my arms around his waist. "I love you, you weirdo," I said, laughing against his chest.
"I love you too," he replied, tilting his head down to kiss me.
We got into bed and I curled up next to him with my head on his chest. I loved going to bed early with him because it was nice to just lay with him and unwind a little before going to sleep. "Are you happy about decreasing your hours at work?" he asked suddenly in the darkness.
"Yes, why?" I responded, confused.
"Well, when I suggested it, I thought there was a pretty good chance you'd tell me to fuck off," he said, chuckling. "I was a little surprised when you said you'd get more options and I was really surprised when you came home today and had done it. I guess work is just so important to you, and I want to make sure you're not doing it just to get this wedding planned, but secretly hating it. Or hating me."
"I can't think of a scenario that would ever happen where I'd hate you," I replied. "No, I mean, at first I was thinking I'd just get some information and that would be that. Maybe I'd think about it for awhile, and by the time I decided, it would be too late for it to matter. But the more I thought about it, the more I realized how much decreasing my hours a little would benefit me and my work. And us." I explained to him what I'd been thinking about, with the fewer hours giving me a little more energy to do really good work and take care of myself, since my job could be so emotionally draining.
"That makes sense," Brody agreed. "So...are you thinking maybe longer term than just until the wedding?"
"I don't know," I replied. "We'll see. I want to see how it goes. I can go back up to full time at any point, so I'm not worried about making any long term decisions now. And obviously it would be something we could talk about."
"If you want to, we can, but I'm fine with whatever you want to do. Unless my business goes under...then you might need to pick up a second job to support us."
I laughed and shook my head, shifting closer to Brody. He tightened his arms around me and kissed the top of my head and we both settled down to go to sleep.
Kinsley texted me on Wednesday and asked if I was free for dinner. I said yes hesitantly. I hadn't heard from Lauren since Monday, even though I'd called her yesterday. The last thing I wanted was to get in the middle of their bizarre feud, but I also didn't want to not see Kinsley just because of she and Lauren weren't on good terms. And honestly, Lauren and I weren't on good terms at the moment either, since she'd also stormed out on me.
Luckily, Kinsley stayed away from the Lauren topic altogether. She was--as usual--late, and she strolled in about 10 minutes after I had gotten there. She sat down and smiled almost shyly. "It's good to see you," I said sincerely. "I'm glad you texted today."
I looked at her carefully as she returned my greeting. She looked exhausted and her eyes were dull, but she smiled brightly at me. "Thanks for coming. I'm really sorry about what happened on Monday, and I hope you're not pissed at me."
"Not at all," I assured her. "Though I do have to admit I'm a little worried about you with everything that happened. How are you?"
"I'm fine," she said, nodding. "Really." She quickly changed the subject, and we talked about things of little importance as we shared an appetizer. I followed her lead, knowing that if I pushed anything, all she'd do was shut down. We were halfway through our meals before she said, "I forgot how much breakups suck. Makes you wonder if relationships are even worth it."
"Breakups do suck," I agreed. "Sometimes the relationships aren't worth the breakup. Sometimes they are though."
"Maybe," Kinsley replied noncommittally.
"Kinsley, can I do anything?" I asked. "I can't make the breakup suck any less, but I wouldn't have made it through my breakup with John without Lynn." It was true. Lynn was the one that had dragged me out of bed (much like Lauren and Kinsley had when Brody had left for Miami last summer) and kept me moving forward. "I'd offer to come drag you out somewhere to get back into the world, but you clearly don't need help there!" Fortunately, Kinsley found this funny and laughed.
"No...but I have a really weird favor to ask you," she said.
"Anything," I replied, hopeful that maybe she'd open up a little.
"So, Tinder." I nodded. "I have a few dates set up, and I'm not worried, but I'm also not stupid. Can I let you know where I'm going and who I'm going with, that way if I disappear at least someone knows some information to give to the police?"
I forced my face to stay neutral. She laughed as she said it, and I agree that it was probably smart, but putting those words to it was a little anxiety-producing. "Absolutely," I said. "But I swear to you, if you forget to let me know that you're home safely, I will send the police to the poor dude's house. You just asked the most anxious person you know to be anxious for you, so don't forget to let me know!"
"You're also the least asshole-ish person I know, so I think you're perfect for the job," Kinsley said. That was the only allusion she made to the stuff with Lauren all night. The rest of our dinner was normal, and despite a few bitter/cynical comments from Kinsley, and her tired, dull eyes, she really did seem like she was doing okay. I had a feeling she wasn't, but I hoped she'd talk to someone at some point.
I tried calling Lauren again on my way home, and it rang one and a half times before it her voicemail picked up. It was pretty clear she'd declined the call and I hung up without leaving a message, wondering if she was really that mad at me for what I'd said on Monday or if there was something else going on.
"You're sure this is okay?" I asked for what must have been the third time, after getting the salary and benefit information for the .75 FTE position.
Carla smiled. "Yes, it's fine. You're not the first to do something like this! If Kelly gives you a hard time at all, let me know, but I don't think she will."
I thanked her and walked down to Kelly's office, hoping she'd be free. She was, and I went in and sat down, then explained my plans. I had already done a little problem solving with Carla, and was able to tell Kelly about the two clients I'd been talking to about closing in the next few weeks, one that I thought would be ready soon, and another that wanted to drop down to every other week. We refigured my schedule to make sure I could fit the rest of my clients in. We revisited a conversation we'd had a couple weeks ago about transitioning one of my families to someone that might be a better fit for them, as they were wanting someone that was a bit more direct in session than I was. In the end, we got it figured out, and if all went according to plan, I'd only have one Saturday left and would be able to start my new schedule in two weeks.
When I got back to my office, I emailed the plan to Carla and quickly got ready for my next client. The rest of my work day flew by, and I decided to keep my office door shut between clients to discourage Josh's presence. It worked, and I didn't see him all day.
Brody was going to pick up pizza on his way home so we could finish the timeline and guest list tonight and get the info to Lauren's mom so she could start our invitations. I decided to hit the gym after work, figuring that getting some endorphins going would help me get through finishing the guest list without killing Brody every time he tried to add someone.
I had an awesome workout, and I got so sucked into my weights that I didn't realize how much time had passed. I was expecting Brody home around 7:30, and I now barely had enough time to get home and shower. I walked a few cool down laps around the track, then stopped to stretch out my already tight hamstrings and calves. I grabbed my bag out of my locker and headed out, hurrying home.
I beat Brody home and got in the shower. Once under the hot spray of the shower head I bent, stretching my legs again. My calf was a little more sore than it should be already. I'd have to take it easy for a couple days.
After I got out of the shower, I wrapped myself in a towel and walked towards the bedroom. I paused in the doorway, flexing my foot to stretch my calf again. "What are you doing?" I jumped and stifled a yelp, then gritted my teeth and sucked in a shaky breath. Brody was standing at his dresser, taking off his tie and watching me. "Sorry," he said sheepishly. "I didn't mean to scare you."
"Fuck," I said, taking another deep breath to slow my heart rate. "I'm still so jumpy," I commented, my fingers moving to tug nervously on my wet hair. My nightmares from my encounter with Jordan were all but gone, but I still just about jumped out of my skin every time the wind blew, it seemed.
"I thought you saw me," he said, coming over and pulling me into a hug. "What were you doing?"
I tilted my head up for a kiss, and then said, "Stretching my calf. I pissed it off at the gym tonight. I'm not sure how, but it's definitely angry." I stepped over to my dresser and pulled out a pair of shorts and a tank top and got dressed quickly. I rubbed the towel over my head, trying not to tangle my hair hopelessly, and then went back into the bathroom to comb it out and hang up my towel.
We made our way downstairs and Brody got pizza onto plates for us while I got my laptop out. We elected to sit on the living room floor, and I read him the email I'd gotten back from Leigh, with her opinions on a time line for the day. We discussed it, agreed with what she'd suggested, and moved on to the guest list.
"Are you going to invite Jon and Nadine and the kids?" Brody asked, referring to my newly found grandparents and half-siblings.
"I don't know," I said, grimacing. "I've been thinking about it and part of me wants to, but I just don't know. Is it weird?"
He shrugged. "I don't think it's weird. It's your call, but I think you might regret it if you don't at least invite them. You and Sarah have been talking fairly regularly." That was true. We texted weekly, sometimes as often as for an hour or two at a time, every couple days. I had been meaning to try to plan a trip out to Utah to visit them, but then Brody proposed and everything got a little crazy.
"That's kind of what I was thinking too," I agreed. "Okay, I'll put them on there."
It took us over an hour, but we finally finalized the guest list. I emailed it to him so he could work on getting addresses for his people. We spent the next half hour sending emails for addresses, and I sent the timeline and list to Lauren's mom. Finally, we both set our laptops aside, done for the night. We both moved up to the couch, and Brody reached down and pulled my feet into his lap. I told him about what we'd worked out at work while he gently massaged first my right calf, then my sore left calf.
"I'm glad you got something figured out," he said, gently manipulating the tight muscle in my leg. "You really did piss your calf off."
"I know," I pouted, wincing a little as he felt the knotted muscle. He told me about his day while he gently worked at the stubborn muscle, finally getting it to loosen up a little. He continued, working it a little looser, then shifted and ran his hands up my legs. When he got to my hips, he paused and wrapped his hands around my waist, tugging me towards him and into a laying position. Then he eased himself down between my legs, supporting his weight on his hands, which he planted next to my head.
He kissed me, and I reached up and wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him closer. He lowered himself onto his forearms, freeing one hand to stroke and play with my hair as we kissed. We laid on the couch for a long time, making out like teenagers, until Brody finally sat up and pulled me up with him. He pulled me into his lap and tugged my tank top up and over my head. We both shed our clothing and I climbed back onto the couch, straddling Brody's legs. I kissed him as his hands ran up and down my legs, then over my ass, then up to my breasts. I moaned against his lips as he brushed his thumbs across my nipples, then moved his mouth to my neck. His hands slid down my back and he cupped my ass, lifting me slightly and pulling me closer, and I guided him inside me.
When we were finished, we went straight up to get ready for bed. Brody had been getting up really early to get to work so he could get home at a reasonable time, and I was always up for going to bed early. We got ready for bed together in the bathroom, brushing our teeth at the "his" and "hers" sinks and making faces at each other in the mirror. I barely got my mouthful of toothpaste spit into the sink before I cracked up. "Hi, we're 12," I said, once I caught my breath.
He spit and rinsed his mouth, then shrugged. "We have to act like adults all day at work, I see no reason to do so at home!" He turned the water back and washed his hands, then flicked the remaining water off at me.
"Hey!" I shrieked, laughing again as he wrapped his arms around me in a bear hug and playfully nibbled at my neck. I wiped the water off my face onto the shoulder of his t-shirt and slipped my arms around his waist. "I love you, you weirdo," I said, laughing against his chest.
"I love you too," he replied, tilting his head down to kiss me.
We got into bed and I curled up next to him with my head on his chest. I loved going to bed early with him because it was nice to just lay with him and unwind a little before going to sleep. "Are you happy about decreasing your hours at work?" he asked suddenly in the darkness.
"Yes, why?" I responded, confused.
"Well, when I suggested it, I thought there was a pretty good chance you'd tell me to fuck off," he said, chuckling. "I was a little surprised when you said you'd get more options and I was really surprised when you came home today and had done it. I guess work is just so important to you, and I want to make sure you're not doing it just to get this wedding planned, but secretly hating it. Or hating me."
"I can't think of a scenario that would ever happen where I'd hate you," I replied. "No, I mean, at first I was thinking I'd just get some information and that would be that. Maybe I'd think about it for awhile, and by the time I decided, it would be too late for it to matter. But the more I thought about it, the more I realized how much decreasing my hours a little would benefit me and my work. And us." I explained to him what I'd been thinking about, with the fewer hours giving me a little more energy to do really good work and take care of myself, since my job could be so emotionally draining.
"That makes sense," Brody agreed. "So...are you thinking maybe longer term than just until the wedding?"
"I don't know," I replied. "We'll see. I want to see how it goes. I can go back up to full time at any point, so I'm not worried about making any long term decisions now. And obviously it would be something we could talk about."
"If you want to, we can, but I'm fine with whatever you want to do. Unless my business goes under...then you might need to pick up a second job to support us."
I laughed and shook my head, shifting closer to Brody. He tightened his arms around me and kissed the top of my head and we both settled down to go to sleep.
Kinsley texted me on Wednesday and asked if I was free for dinner. I said yes hesitantly. I hadn't heard from Lauren since Monday, even though I'd called her yesterday. The last thing I wanted was to get in the middle of their bizarre feud, but I also didn't want to not see Kinsley just because of she and Lauren weren't on good terms. And honestly, Lauren and I weren't on good terms at the moment either, since she'd also stormed out on me.
Luckily, Kinsley stayed away from the Lauren topic altogether. She was--as usual--late, and she strolled in about 10 minutes after I had gotten there. She sat down and smiled almost shyly. "It's good to see you," I said sincerely. "I'm glad you texted today."
I looked at her carefully as she returned my greeting. She looked exhausted and her eyes were dull, but she smiled brightly at me. "Thanks for coming. I'm really sorry about what happened on Monday, and I hope you're not pissed at me."
"Not at all," I assured her. "Though I do have to admit I'm a little worried about you with everything that happened. How are you?"
"I'm fine," she said, nodding. "Really." She quickly changed the subject, and we talked about things of little importance as we shared an appetizer. I followed her lead, knowing that if I pushed anything, all she'd do was shut down. We were halfway through our meals before she said, "I forgot how much breakups suck. Makes you wonder if relationships are even worth it."
"Breakups do suck," I agreed. "Sometimes the relationships aren't worth the breakup. Sometimes they are though."
"Maybe," Kinsley replied noncommittally.
"Kinsley, can I do anything?" I asked. "I can't make the breakup suck any less, but I wouldn't have made it through my breakup with John without Lynn." It was true. Lynn was the one that had dragged me out of bed (much like Lauren and Kinsley had when Brody had left for Miami last summer) and kept me moving forward. "I'd offer to come drag you out somewhere to get back into the world, but you clearly don't need help there!" Fortunately, Kinsley found this funny and laughed.
"No...but I have a really weird favor to ask you," she said.
"Anything," I replied, hopeful that maybe she'd open up a little.
"So, Tinder." I nodded. "I have a few dates set up, and I'm not worried, but I'm also not stupid. Can I let you know where I'm going and who I'm going with, that way if I disappear at least someone knows some information to give to the police?"
I forced my face to stay neutral. She laughed as she said it, and I agree that it was probably smart, but putting those words to it was a little anxiety-producing. "Absolutely," I said. "But I swear to you, if you forget to let me know that you're home safely, I will send the police to the poor dude's house. You just asked the most anxious person you know to be anxious for you, so don't forget to let me know!"
"You're also the least asshole-ish person I know, so I think you're perfect for the job," Kinsley said. That was the only allusion she made to the stuff with Lauren all night. The rest of our dinner was normal, and despite a few bitter/cynical comments from Kinsley, and her tired, dull eyes, she really did seem like she was doing okay. I had a feeling she wasn't, but I hoped she'd talk to someone at some point.
I tried calling Lauren again on my way home, and it rang one and a half times before it her voicemail picked up. It was pretty clear she'd declined the call and I hung up without leaving a message, wondering if she was really that mad at me for what I'd said on Monday or if there was something else going on.
Tuesday, July 28, 2015
(Now) Kinsley: Rough
Well, Blogger/my computer ate half of what was supposed to be today's main storyline post. After having a bit of a temper tantrum, I got it together and remembered that I have the next Kinsley post at least. SO...you get another Kinsley post today. I should have the main storyline post finished (again, *sob*) in time to post on Friday. I hope you guys are enjoying Kinsley's story. It's fun to write something so different than Liv and Brody!
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Tinder turned out to be just as easy as I thought it would be. And maybe it was because I was choosy about who I swiped right on, but I hadn't had any horrible experiences yet. And I was smart about it--or as smart as one who is meeting guys from Tinder can be--I met them in a public place, and I made sure I let someone know where I was going.
The lucky person happened to be Liv. Liv and I had gotten dinner together the Wednesday after the fateful fight with Lauren, and she'd been much less of a bitch than Lauren had been. She'd told me she was worried about me, but she did it in a way where I didn't feel like she was judging me. She asked if there was anything she could do, and when I told her I needed a person to make sure the police got the right info if I disappeared, she didn't even bat an eye.
With as easy as it was, the payoff wasn't quite what I was hoping. I had dates on Tuesday, Thursday, Sunday, and Monday. I only got a weird vibe from one of the 4 guys I'd met, and I cut that date short with a bad excuse. The other three were fine. One wasn't at all my type, and the feeling seemed to be mutual. We parted ways after two drinks with no hard feelings. The other two I'd ended up going home with, but the sex just wasn't very good. I don't know what I expected.
But backing up to Friday night, Cole called me around 11. "I assume this is a booty call," I said, in lieu of a greeting. I'd planned to take a night in to recover from my rather ridiculous week, but this was even better.
"It is," he confirmed. "but I'll buy you a drink if I have to."
"How thoughtful of you," I retorted. "Where are you?"
"I'm at home," he said. "Are you sober?"
"Yes, asshole. I can come to you, if you want. You've got to give me a few minutes, and I'm not putting real pants on for you."
"What's the point? I'm just going to take them off." Ah, the delightful conversation of an all-business booty call.
I brushed my teeth, swiped on a coat of waterproof mascara (what? Don't even fucking pretend like you don't do it too), and checked out my ass in the mirror. Real pants be damned, I was pretty sure Cole was going to like my yoga pants better anyway. I slid my feet into flip flops, grabbed my purse, and put the address he'd texted me into my phone's GPS.
I parked in the parking lot of his complex and pressed the button that corresponded with his apartment number. Moments later, the door buzzed and I pulled it open. I headed to the elevator and took it to the 11th floor. I didn't have to look too hard to find his actual apartment, because as soon as I stepped off the elevator, a door opened. I walked towards it and saw Cole leaning against the doorframe. He had on a pair of athletic shorts and a black t-shirt that clung to his lean, muscular frame.
"Eager, huh?" I asked, smirking at him as I brushed past him to enter his apartment. I looked around. "This place needs an interior decorator." His apartment was actually amazing, with high, exposed ceilings, gleaming hardwood, and huge windows with an amazing view of downtown and the foothills. But his living room contained nothing beyond a couch, a chair, a coffee table, and a giant TV. His dining area was empty. There was nothing on the walls. It was a stereotypical spartan bachelor pad.
"Give me a break," he retorted. "I just moved."
I snorted. "Three months ago." I remembered him bragging about his new place shortly before he left for his new job. "It is a really nice apartment, though." I bent to set my purse on the floor by the door, since there was nowhere else to put it.
"I'm awfully glad you didn't put on real pants," Cole said. I could practically feel his eyes on my ass as I straightened. I knew he'd appreciate the pants. "And thank you. I'd like to make it a little cozier, but I've never been very good at that kind of stuff. I prefer numbers."
"I like numbers too, but I manage just fine." I leaned back against the door and regarded him carefully.
"Yeah, your place was decorated nicely. Maybe you can help me." He stepped closer and raised his eyebrows.
I reached out and grabbed the drawstring of his shorts, running it through my fingers and sliding them up it until they met the waistband. Then I slid them back down to the end again. "Did you call me so I could help you decorate? Because if you did, I'm leaving."
"I didn't, but as long as you're here..." He looked around and shrugged.
I yanked on the string of shorts, tugging him closer to me, then closed the gap between us. "Stop talking and do something more useful with your mouth," I demanded. He laughed and finally leaned down to kiss me.
The kiss started softly, his lips barely touching mine, his tongue lightly tracing them, and then suddenly he pressed me hard against the door and grabbed my ass. I moaned against his lips, enjoying the intensity of his kiss. I slipped out from between him and the door and walked towards the couch, lifting my shirt over my head and tossing it back at him as I went. I heard his footsteps behind me just before he grabbed me around the waist and lifted me off the ground. He threw me easily over his shoulder and carried me down the hallway. "Fucking on the couch makes my back hurt," he grumbled.
"You could have just said you wanted to do it in your room instead. I would have walked."
"Where's the fun in that?" he asked, dumping me gracelessly on his bed. I yanked his shirt up and he lifted his arms and let me pull it off and toss it to the side before he climbed onto the bed with me, unhooking my bra as he kissed me again. He pressed me back until I was laying down and immediately lowered his head to my breasts. He tugged on one nipple with his teeth while he rolled the other between his fingers. I gasped and arched my back, pressing myself harder against him. When he released them, I rolled out from under him and shoved him sideways until he was sitting, then climbed into his lap. I grabbed both of his hands and pinned them to his sides as I nipped at his neck. I pressed my hips against his as I bit a little harder on his shoulder.
"Oh, is that what you want?" he growled. He forced his wrists out of my hands and grabbed mine as he moved to the side and yanked on my hands. In seconds he had me flat on my back with my arms stretched over my head. He got both of my wrists easily into one of his hands and lowed his head to my neck. He kept me on my toes, alternating gentle licks and sucking with sharp nips.
"I swear to god, if you leave one fucking visible mark on me, I will kill you," I warned him.
"Does that threat only apply to visible marks?" he paused to ask. His tone was mocking, but his eyes were serious, and I clearly had his interest.
"Yes," I confirmed.
He put his lips against my chest, about two inches down from the center from the gap between my collar bones. Keeping them against my skin, he asked, "Is this spot visible?" his lips tickled my skin and the vibration made me shiver.
"That's questionable. Lower," I demanded.
Instead of going lower, he moved closer to my breast. "How about here?"
"No," I replied. "Picture whatever low cut shirt of mine turned you on the most, and stay away from anything you would have been able to see. Anything else is fair game."
He lifted his head slightly and stared at my body in the dim light. I loved the way he looked at me. He let go of my wrists, then used his fingers to trace a line down from either side of my shoulders, meeting between my breasts. Then he raked his fingers down, across my breasts, down my stomach, to the waistband of my yoga pants. "I almost hate to get rid of these, but they've got to go," he said. He slid his fingers between the pants and my skin and yanked them down. He left them around my ankles and continued his visual inspection. Then he lowered his mouth to my hip bone and licked it. He pressed his lips to it and sucked hard. I expected his teeth next, but he licked again, then suddenly nipped sharply, causing me to arch my back and gasp a little.
He looked up at me, scanning my face quickly, then went back to licking, then sucking as he repositioned himself and dragged his fingertips up my leg. They stopped and dug into my thigh slightly as he bit my hip bone again, but this time it was a gentle nip. I wouldn't have guessed that my hip bone was the place to be, but he had me aching for him with very little effort on his part. His fingers had finally made their way between my legs and he stroked me with his thumb as he turned his attention to my other hip bone. I whimpered and pressed myself against his hand as he licked and sucked on my hip. I was so close, and he'd barely even touched me. Suddenly, he bit hard at the same time he roughly pushed two fingers inside of me, and I lost it. I cried out and clamped my legs together against his hand. I twisted a handful of the sheet in one hand, and grabbed Cole's hair with the other as my back arched up off the bed.
He gave me no time recover. Somehow he kept one hand on me, which kept me writhing in pleasure, while he pushed off his shorts and rolled on a condom. Then he flipped me onto my stomach, nudged my knees apart just slightly, and slammed into me hard. I groaned and pressed my face against the mattress, unable to move under his weight. His rough, hard thrusting rocked my pelvis back and forth against the sheet, which quickly started the build-up of a second orgasm. Just before I went over the edge, he leaned forward and grabbed a handful of my hair, twisting it tightly in his fist. That was all it took, and I yanked so hard on the sheet that I pulled the fitted sheet right off the corner of the bed with it as I came.
Every inch of my skin felt like it was humming with electricity, and I didn't think I could take much more. I was relieved when Cole finished moments later. He laid on top of me, pressing me against the mattress for several seconds before he rolled off. I didn't move, couldn't move, and I wasn't sure when I might be able to again.
"Did you get what you needed?" Cole asked, lightly smacking my ass as he stood up. All I could do was groan. He laughed and I heard a door shut, then water running. That was--lack of feelings for Cole aside--easily the best sex I'd ever had. Damien had never really been into anything rough; though he tried it a few times for me, he lacked the confidence with it that was necessary to truly pull it off. It never bothered me, since I otherwise had absolutely no complaints about our sex life. He definitely made up for that one little thing in many other ways, and it's not like I constantly wanted to be manhandled. But this? Right now? Was exactly what I'd needed.
By the time he returned to the bed and laid back down, I was regaining some of my functioning, and was at least able to turn my head towards him. He chuckled as he looked at me, and he had a very self-satisfied look on his face. "Was the hair pulling too far?" he asked, smirking. He knew the answer to that. "Or should I tie you up next time?"
I rolled my eyes and carefully rolled onto my side. "No, I'm not into that," I said. His fingers brushed lightly over my hip bone and I looked down. There was a faint purplish mark there that I could see even in the dim light of the room. I sat up and inspected it. It was clearly from the sucking, not the biting, and I was a little relieved, though I wasn't sure why. I didn't want to get too carried away, I guess. "You really are full of surprises," I muttered, laying back down.
"Told you," he replied. He rolled onto his side and let his eyes slide over my body. I made no move to cover up. I liked being looked at. I liked the way he looked at me, like he was hungry. "You can spend the night if you want," he said.
"I don't do sleepovers," I replied.
He slid closer to me. "How else do you have morning sex?" he asked, sliding his hand across my stomach. His thumb strummed lightly over the mark on my hip again, then locked around my waist and pulled me closer.
"I don't," I replied. "I have to leave a few things to the imagination, and the harsh morning light doesn't allow for that."
He lifted my hand to his mouth and pressed his lips against the thin skin of my wrist, just below the base of my thumb. I could almost feel my pulse throbbing against his lips in response. He dragged his tongue along where my vein would have been visible if there was more light in the room, and I shivered. I was still turned on enough that every touch sent waves of heat and pleasure through my body, and the gentleness of his lips on my wrist was a nice contrast to what had just occurred. "Then I guess you'd better let me fuck you one more time before you go." He didn't have to ask twice.
I woke up on Saturday morning in my own bed, sore and stiff. I briefly entertained the idea of staying single forever and just having sex with Cole whenever I wanted for the rest of my life. Despite our apparent ridiculous chemistry, the idea of dating him was completely laughable to me. I had no desire to spend much time with him fully clothed. Plus, with his usually-hidden gentleman side that I'd discovered, I had a feeling he'd have objections to biting his girlfriend or pulling her hair. Now that I knew what he was into, I didn't want boring sex from him. I could get that from any guy I picked up at the bar or swiped right for on Tinder.
I sat up and stretched, then walked to the bathroom and got in the shower. Physically, I was kind of a mess. I'd been spending a lot of time at the gym, and my muscles were sore from overwork. I was also sore from last night. Emotionally, I felt the best that I had in over two weeks. That didn't mean I felt good, but every day got a little easier. I was even able to finally spend my quiet night in at home that night, and I didn't obsessively re-clean my entire house the whole time to keep myself busy.
I had my third and fourth Tinder dates on Sunday and Monday (weird vibe guy and one of the boring sex guys, respectively) and then scheduled another date for Thursday. I told myself I wouldn't call Cole until the weekend, but I gave in on Wednesday and sent him a text that said, "Up for some action on a school night?"
"My place or yours?" he replied, 5 minutes later. I chose mine, with a disclaimer that he couldn't spend the night. He agreed and told me he'd be there in 20 minutes. I don't know why I was still even on Tinder. This was like sex delivery on demand, and I hardly had to do anything. I certainly didn't have to go out for forced conversation over weak, over-priced drinks first, and he already knew I liked my hair pulled. This was far more efficient.
We had an excellent evening, and he left me exhausted and satisfied in my bed around 11. I slept like a rock, and I had a pretty good day at work on Thursday. I ran home and took a quick shower and changed before my Tinder date. I was becoming kind of a pro at this Tinder shit.
When I walked up to the bar where I was meeting my date, I recognized him right away from his picture. "Eric?" I asked, stopping in front of him. He was cute. Cuter than in his picture, even though it was a fairly accurate picture.
"Yeah, hi. Kinsley, right?" he replied. He looked a little nervous, and it was cute. I smiled and confirmed, and we headed inside.
We found a table and sat down, and someone quickly appeared to take our drink orders. We sat and talked, and for once the conversation wasn't forced. In fact, I discovered I actually enjoyed talking to him. He was funny, and seemed smart too. I mean, I guess he probably was, since he was a chemical engineer, and I assume they don't let idiots do that.
We stayed for a couple hours, and I probably would have stayed a couple more if it wasn't a work night. He was good company, and he paid for my drinks and food, which is always a bonus. I only had two drinks, since I had driven here, and I was surprised that I didn't feel the need to numb myself with alcohol.
When he asked if I wanted to go hang out at his place for awhile, I quickly agreed. I briefly wondered how I'd explain away the large, dark combination hickey/bite mark on my shoulder blade from the night before, but figured that's what doing it in the dark is for. I followed him to his house, which was in a quiet residential neighborhood not too far out of downtown. I parked on the street in front of the house and met him at the front door.
He looked nervous, and for a second I wondered if this was his first Tinder date. He unlocked the door and motioned for me to go inside. He followed me in and within seconds, a petite, cute redhead in white shorts and a black crop top wandered down the stairs. "Hi!" she said brightly, but she also seemed nervous. Eric greeted her and they both looked at me.
"Um, hi," I said hesitantly. I turned to Eric. "Is this your...roommate?"
"No," he said, and now he looked really nervous. "Leslie is my girlfriend."
"Your girlfriend?" I parroted. "What the fuck is this?"
Leslie frowned and crossed her arms. "Did you not tell her?" she asked. "Did you seriously bring her here without telling her what we want?"
"What you want? ...Oh, holy shit!" I exclaimed, suddenly realizing exactly what it was they wanted. "Oh no. No. No way. What the fuck?"
Leslie turned her frown on me. "Don't judge us, you're the one meeting guys to fuck on Tinder."
"Oh, I'm not judging you," I informed her. "But this," I motioned between the three of us, "is not something I'm into." I turned back to Eric. "And even if it was, this is not the way to go about having a goddamned threesome! People need to know that shit ahead of time!"
"There really wasn't a good time to bring it up," he replied, shrugging innocently.
"You guys are fucking nuts," I said. I turned and pulled open the front door and walked as fast as I could to my car. I got in, started it, and drove around the corner. After I put it back in park, I lost it. I laughed so hard that anyone walking past would likely think I was the crazy one. And maybe I was. I doubled over, and sitting there with my forehead against the steering wheel, I almost didn't notice when my laughter turned to sobs.
I cried in my car for almost 15 minutes before I got it together enough to drive myself home. Once I was home, I barely made it through the door before I started crying again. I ended up sitting on the floor of my foyer, curled up against my front door, sobbing. It was like all the crying I hadn't done in the past two weeks, while I pretended I was okay, was now happening. I desperately wanted to be around another person, but I didn't know who to call. For 5 minutes, I fought with myself about calling Damien, and at one point I had his contact information pulled up on my screen, with my finger hovering over his number, ready to call. Then I dropped my phone and kicked it away, knowing that would do more harm than good. Instead, I stayed curled against my front door, sniffling and desperately wishing for some non-sexual human contact for the first time in a really long time.
Finally, I dragged myself up to my bed and surrounded myself with pillows, pretending that it was a decent substitute for physical contact from someone that gave a shit about me. It wasn't, but it was better than nothing as I quietly cried myself to sleep.
__________________________________________
Tinder turned out to be just as easy as I thought it would be. And maybe it was because I was choosy about who I swiped right on, but I hadn't had any horrible experiences yet. And I was smart about it--or as smart as one who is meeting guys from Tinder can be--I met them in a public place, and I made sure I let someone know where I was going.
The lucky person happened to be Liv. Liv and I had gotten dinner together the Wednesday after the fateful fight with Lauren, and she'd been much less of a bitch than Lauren had been. She'd told me she was worried about me, but she did it in a way where I didn't feel like she was judging me. She asked if there was anything she could do, and when I told her I needed a person to make sure the police got the right info if I disappeared, she didn't even bat an eye.
With as easy as it was, the payoff wasn't quite what I was hoping. I had dates on Tuesday, Thursday, Sunday, and Monday. I only got a weird vibe from one of the 4 guys I'd met, and I cut that date short with a bad excuse. The other three were fine. One wasn't at all my type, and the feeling seemed to be mutual. We parted ways after two drinks with no hard feelings. The other two I'd ended up going home with, but the sex just wasn't very good. I don't know what I expected.
But backing up to Friday night, Cole called me around 11. "I assume this is a booty call," I said, in lieu of a greeting. I'd planned to take a night in to recover from my rather ridiculous week, but this was even better.
"It is," he confirmed. "but I'll buy you a drink if I have to."
"How thoughtful of you," I retorted. "Where are you?"
"I'm at home," he said. "Are you sober?"
"Yes, asshole. I can come to you, if you want. You've got to give me a few minutes, and I'm not putting real pants on for you."
"What's the point? I'm just going to take them off." Ah, the delightful conversation of an all-business booty call.
I brushed my teeth, swiped on a coat of waterproof mascara (what? Don't even fucking pretend like you don't do it too), and checked out my ass in the mirror. Real pants be damned, I was pretty sure Cole was going to like my yoga pants better anyway. I slid my feet into flip flops, grabbed my purse, and put the address he'd texted me into my phone's GPS.
I parked in the parking lot of his complex and pressed the button that corresponded with his apartment number. Moments later, the door buzzed and I pulled it open. I headed to the elevator and took it to the 11th floor. I didn't have to look too hard to find his actual apartment, because as soon as I stepped off the elevator, a door opened. I walked towards it and saw Cole leaning against the doorframe. He had on a pair of athletic shorts and a black t-shirt that clung to his lean, muscular frame.
"Eager, huh?" I asked, smirking at him as I brushed past him to enter his apartment. I looked around. "This place needs an interior decorator." His apartment was actually amazing, with high, exposed ceilings, gleaming hardwood, and huge windows with an amazing view of downtown and the foothills. But his living room contained nothing beyond a couch, a chair, a coffee table, and a giant TV. His dining area was empty. There was nothing on the walls. It was a stereotypical spartan bachelor pad.
"Give me a break," he retorted. "I just moved."
I snorted. "Three months ago." I remembered him bragging about his new place shortly before he left for his new job. "It is a really nice apartment, though." I bent to set my purse on the floor by the door, since there was nowhere else to put it.
"I'm awfully glad you didn't put on real pants," Cole said. I could practically feel his eyes on my ass as I straightened. I knew he'd appreciate the pants. "And thank you. I'd like to make it a little cozier, but I've never been very good at that kind of stuff. I prefer numbers."
"I like numbers too, but I manage just fine." I leaned back against the door and regarded him carefully.
"Yeah, your place was decorated nicely. Maybe you can help me." He stepped closer and raised his eyebrows.
I reached out and grabbed the drawstring of his shorts, running it through my fingers and sliding them up it until they met the waistband. Then I slid them back down to the end again. "Did you call me so I could help you decorate? Because if you did, I'm leaving."
"I didn't, but as long as you're here..." He looked around and shrugged.
I yanked on the string of shorts, tugging him closer to me, then closed the gap between us. "Stop talking and do something more useful with your mouth," I demanded. He laughed and finally leaned down to kiss me.
The kiss started softly, his lips barely touching mine, his tongue lightly tracing them, and then suddenly he pressed me hard against the door and grabbed my ass. I moaned against his lips, enjoying the intensity of his kiss. I slipped out from between him and the door and walked towards the couch, lifting my shirt over my head and tossing it back at him as I went. I heard his footsteps behind me just before he grabbed me around the waist and lifted me off the ground. He threw me easily over his shoulder and carried me down the hallway. "Fucking on the couch makes my back hurt," he grumbled.
"You could have just said you wanted to do it in your room instead. I would have walked."
"Where's the fun in that?" he asked, dumping me gracelessly on his bed. I yanked his shirt up and he lifted his arms and let me pull it off and toss it to the side before he climbed onto the bed with me, unhooking my bra as he kissed me again. He pressed me back until I was laying down and immediately lowered his head to my breasts. He tugged on one nipple with his teeth while he rolled the other between his fingers. I gasped and arched my back, pressing myself harder against him. When he released them, I rolled out from under him and shoved him sideways until he was sitting, then climbed into his lap. I grabbed both of his hands and pinned them to his sides as I nipped at his neck. I pressed my hips against his as I bit a little harder on his shoulder.
"Oh, is that what you want?" he growled. He forced his wrists out of my hands and grabbed mine as he moved to the side and yanked on my hands. In seconds he had me flat on my back with my arms stretched over my head. He got both of my wrists easily into one of his hands and lowed his head to my neck. He kept me on my toes, alternating gentle licks and sucking with sharp nips.
"I swear to god, if you leave one fucking visible mark on me, I will kill you," I warned him.
"Does that threat only apply to visible marks?" he paused to ask. His tone was mocking, but his eyes were serious, and I clearly had his interest.
"Yes," I confirmed.
He put his lips against my chest, about two inches down from the center from the gap between my collar bones. Keeping them against my skin, he asked, "Is this spot visible?" his lips tickled my skin and the vibration made me shiver.
"That's questionable. Lower," I demanded.
Instead of going lower, he moved closer to my breast. "How about here?"
"No," I replied. "Picture whatever low cut shirt of mine turned you on the most, and stay away from anything you would have been able to see. Anything else is fair game."
He lifted his head slightly and stared at my body in the dim light. I loved the way he looked at me. He let go of my wrists, then used his fingers to trace a line down from either side of my shoulders, meeting between my breasts. Then he raked his fingers down, across my breasts, down my stomach, to the waistband of my yoga pants. "I almost hate to get rid of these, but they've got to go," he said. He slid his fingers between the pants and my skin and yanked them down. He left them around my ankles and continued his visual inspection. Then he lowered his mouth to my hip bone and licked it. He pressed his lips to it and sucked hard. I expected his teeth next, but he licked again, then suddenly nipped sharply, causing me to arch my back and gasp a little.
He looked up at me, scanning my face quickly, then went back to licking, then sucking as he repositioned himself and dragged his fingertips up my leg. They stopped and dug into my thigh slightly as he bit my hip bone again, but this time it was a gentle nip. I wouldn't have guessed that my hip bone was the place to be, but he had me aching for him with very little effort on his part. His fingers had finally made their way between my legs and he stroked me with his thumb as he turned his attention to my other hip bone. I whimpered and pressed myself against his hand as he licked and sucked on my hip. I was so close, and he'd barely even touched me. Suddenly, he bit hard at the same time he roughly pushed two fingers inside of me, and I lost it. I cried out and clamped my legs together against his hand. I twisted a handful of the sheet in one hand, and grabbed Cole's hair with the other as my back arched up off the bed.
He gave me no time recover. Somehow he kept one hand on me, which kept me writhing in pleasure, while he pushed off his shorts and rolled on a condom. Then he flipped me onto my stomach, nudged my knees apart just slightly, and slammed into me hard. I groaned and pressed my face against the mattress, unable to move under his weight. His rough, hard thrusting rocked my pelvis back and forth against the sheet, which quickly started the build-up of a second orgasm. Just before I went over the edge, he leaned forward and grabbed a handful of my hair, twisting it tightly in his fist. That was all it took, and I yanked so hard on the sheet that I pulled the fitted sheet right off the corner of the bed with it as I came.
Every inch of my skin felt like it was humming with electricity, and I didn't think I could take much more. I was relieved when Cole finished moments later. He laid on top of me, pressing me against the mattress for several seconds before he rolled off. I didn't move, couldn't move, and I wasn't sure when I might be able to again.
"Did you get what you needed?" Cole asked, lightly smacking my ass as he stood up. All I could do was groan. He laughed and I heard a door shut, then water running. That was--lack of feelings for Cole aside--easily the best sex I'd ever had. Damien had never really been into anything rough; though he tried it a few times for me, he lacked the confidence with it that was necessary to truly pull it off. It never bothered me, since I otherwise had absolutely no complaints about our sex life. He definitely made up for that one little thing in many other ways, and it's not like I constantly wanted to be manhandled. But this? Right now? Was exactly what I'd needed.
By the time he returned to the bed and laid back down, I was regaining some of my functioning, and was at least able to turn my head towards him. He chuckled as he looked at me, and he had a very self-satisfied look on his face. "Was the hair pulling too far?" he asked, smirking. He knew the answer to that. "Or should I tie you up next time?"
I rolled my eyes and carefully rolled onto my side. "No, I'm not into that," I said. His fingers brushed lightly over my hip bone and I looked down. There was a faint purplish mark there that I could see even in the dim light of the room. I sat up and inspected it. It was clearly from the sucking, not the biting, and I was a little relieved, though I wasn't sure why. I didn't want to get too carried away, I guess. "You really are full of surprises," I muttered, laying back down.
"Told you," he replied. He rolled onto his side and let his eyes slide over my body. I made no move to cover up. I liked being looked at. I liked the way he looked at me, like he was hungry. "You can spend the night if you want," he said.
"I don't do sleepovers," I replied.
He slid closer to me. "How else do you have morning sex?" he asked, sliding his hand across my stomach. His thumb strummed lightly over the mark on my hip again, then locked around my waist and pulled me closer.
"I don't," I replied. "I have to leave a few things to the imagination, and the harsh morning light doesn't allow for that."
He lifted my hand to his mouth and pressed his lips against the thin skin of my wrist, just below the base of my thumb. I could almost feel my pulse throbbing against his lips in response. He dragged his tongue along where my vein would have been visible if there was more light in the room, and I shivered. I was still turned on enough that every touch sent waves of heat and pleasure through my body, and the gentleness of his lips on my wrist was a nice contrast to what had just occurred. "Then I guess you'd better let me fuck you one more time before you go." He didn't have to ask twice.
I woke up on Saturday morning in my own bed, sore and stiff. I briefly entertained the idea of staying single forever and just having sex with Cole whenever I wanted for the rest of my life. Despite our apparent ridiculous chemistry, the idea of dating him was completely laughable to me. I had no desire to spend much time with him fully clothed. Plus, with his usually-hidden gentleman side that I'd discovered, I had a feeling he'd have objections to biting his girlfriend or pulling her hair. Now that I knew what he was into, I didn't want boring sex from him. I could get that from any guy I picked up at the bar or swiped right for on Tinder.
I sat up and stretched, then walked to the bathroom and got in the shower. Physically, I was kind of a mess. I'd been spending a lot of time at the gym, and my muscles were sore from overwork. I was also sore from last night. Emotionally, I felt the best that I had in over two weeks. That didn't mean I felt good, but every day got a little easier. I was even able to finally spend my quiet night in at home that night, and I didn't obsessively re-clean my entire house the whole time to keep myself busy.
I had my third and fourth Tinder dates on Sunday and Monday (weird vibe guy and one of the boring sex guys, respectively) and then scheduled another date for Thursday. I told myself I wouldn't call Cole until the weekend, but I gave in on Wednesday and sent him a text that said, "Up for some action on a school night?"
"My place or yours?" he replied, 5 minutes later. I chose mine, with a disclaimer that he couldn't spend the night. He agreed and told me he'd be there in 20 minutes. I don't know why I was still even on Tinder. This was like sex delivery on demand, and I hardly had to do anything. I certainly didn't have to go out for forced conversation over weak, over-priced drinks first, and he already knew I liked my hair pulled. This was far more efficient.
We had an excellent evening, and he left me exhausted and satisfied in my bed around 11. I slept like a rock, and I had a pretty good day at work on Thursday. I ran home and took a quick shower and changed before my Tinder date. I was becoming kind of a pro at this Tinder shit.
When I walked up to the bar where I was meeting my date, I recognized him right away from his picture. "Eric?" I asked, stopping in front of him. He was cute. Cuter than in his picture, even though it was a fairly accurate picture.
"Yeah, hi. Kinsley, right?" he replied. He looked a little nervous, and it was cute. I smiled and confirmed, and we headed inside.
We found a table and sat down, and someone quickly appeared to take our drink orders. We sat and talked, and for once the conversation wasn't forced. In fact, I discovered I actually enjoyed talking to him. He was funny, and seemed smart too. I mean, I guess he probably was, since he was a chemical engineer, and I assume they don't let idiots do that.
We stayed for a couple hours, and I probably would have stayed a couple more if it wasn't a work night. He was good company, and he paid for my drinks and food, which is always a bonus. I only had two drinks, since I had driven here, and I was surprised that I didn't feel the need to numb myself with alcohol.
When he asked if I wanted to go hang out at his place for awhile, I quickly agreed. I briefly wondered how I'd explain away the large, dark combination hickey/bite mark on my shoulder blade from the night before, but figured that's what doing it in the dark is for. I followed him to his house, which was in a quiet residential neighborhood not too far out of downtown. I parked on the street in front of the house and met him at the front door.
He looked nervous, and for a second I wondered if this was his first Tinder date. He unlocked the door and motioned for me to go inside. He followed me in and within seconds, a petite, cute redhead in white shorts and a black crop top wandered down the stairs. "Hi!" she said brightly, but she also seemed nervous. Eric greeted her and they both looked at me.
"Um, hi," I said hesitantly. I turned to Eric. "Is this your...roommate?"
"No," he said, and now he looked really nervous. "Leslie is my girlfriend."
"Your girlfriend?" I parroted. "What the fuck is this?"
Leslie frowned and crossed her arms. "Did you not tell her?" she asked. "Did you seriously bring her here without telling her what we want?"
"What you want? ...Oh, holy shit!" I exclaimed, suddenly realizing exactly what it was they wanted. "Oh no. No. No way. What the fuck?"
Leslie turned her frown on me. "Don't judge us, you're the one meeting guys to fuck on Tinder."
"Oh, I'm not judging you," I informed her. "But this," I motioned between the three of us, "is not something I'm into." I turned back to Eric. "And even if it was, this is not the way to go about having a goddamned threesome! People need to know that shit ahead of time!"
"There really wasn't a good time to bring it up," he replied, shrugging innocently.
"You guys are fucking nuts," I said. I turned and pulled open the front door and walked as fast as I could to my car. I got in, started it, and drove around the corner. After I put it back in park, I lost it. I laughed so hard that anyone walking past would likely think I was the crazy one. And maybe I was. I doubled over, and sitting there with my forehead against the steering wheel, I almost didn't notice when my laughter turned to sobs.
I cried in my car for almost 15 minutes before I got it together enough to drive myself home. Once I was home, I barely made it through the door before I started crying again. I ended up sitting on the floor of my foyer, curled up against my front door, sobbing. It was like all the crying I hadn't done in the past two weeks, while I pretended I was okay, was now happening. I desperately wanted to be around another person, but I didn't know who to call. For 5 minutes, I fought with myself about calling Damien, and at one point I had his contact information pulled up on my screen, with my finger hovering over his number, ready to call. Then I dropped my phone and kicked it away, knowing that would do more harm than good. Instead, I stayed curled against my front door, sniffling and desperately wishing for some non-sexual human contact for the first time in a really long time.
Finally, I dragged myself up to my bed and surrounded myself with pillows, pretending that it was a decent substitute for physical contact from someone that gave a shit about me. It wasn't, but it was better than nothing as I quietly cried myself to sleep.
Monday, July 27, 2015
(Now) Kinsley: Distraction
How about a Kinsley bonus? I've been in a huge writing mood lately, and that means more posts for you! I'll have a main storyline post up on Wednesday at 6am CST, and then another Kinsley post up Friday morning.
____________________________________
The first thing I felt when I woke up early the next morning was awful. My mouth felt like it was full of steel wool. Rusty, moldy, foul-tasting steel wool. My head felt like someone was using a chainsaw on my skull. My eyes were scratchy, my throat was raw, and my stomach was still not back to normal.
The first thing I thought when I woke up was "oh shit, what the fuck did I do last night?" You know that immediate, sinking feeling of shame that accompanies waking up hungover, even before you remember exactly what it was you did that made you look like an idiot? Yeah.
I rolled over and reached for the glass of water I spied on my nightstand. As soon as I saw it, the foggy, patchy events of last night came rushing back to me. I groaned out loud as I remembered Cole taking my shoes off, dragging me upstairs, and holding my hair back while I exorcised my alcoholic demons. "Fuuuck," I muttered to myself. I remembered his actions and his presence, but I couldn't remember any of the things we'd talked about. Assuming, of course, that we'd talked at some point between him picking me up and leaving.
I grabbed the glass and drank half of it. It was room temperature, but at that moment I didn't even care. I got up and stumbled to the bathroom, peed, brushed my teeth, and dug through the cabinet for some tylenol. I swallowed two with water from the faucet, and then went back to my room. I looked down, realizing I was still in my clothes from the night before. I peeled them off and climbed back into bed.
After tossing and turning, trying to get comfortable for what felt like a really long time, I finally fell back to sleep. When I woke up again several hours later, I felt considerably better. I was thankful for my tendency to wake up super early when I've been drinking, because getting up and drinking some water and taking tylenol always helps.
I hauled my sorry ass into the shower, and by the time I was dressed in yoga pants and a t-shirt I felt almost human again. I made my way downstairs and found my purse on the floor by door. I fished my phone out of it, discovered it was dead, and plugged it in. Not even 10 minutes after I'd sat down on the couch, my phone vibrated. I leaned across the couch and saw that it was a text from Cole. Anxiety washed over me as I opened the text and read it. "How are you feeling today? Hopefully not too bad. You were pretty strongly against lunch last night, but if you've changed your mind, the offer stands."
I tried to remember having a conversation with him about lunch, but nothing came to mind. Even so, I considered just deleting his message and pretending it hadn't happened. He'd seen me throwing up, for fuck's sake. On the other hand, he'd made sure I got home safely, made sure my hair made it safely through my puke-fest, and had remained a gentleman (as far as I remembered) the whole time. The least I could do is have lunch with the poor guy.
So I texted him back, "I feel far better than I deserve to after last night's shit show. I'm starving, and I can't remember why I said no to lunch, so I guess it's your lucky day!"
"Hangover food of choice?" he responded, not even a minute later.
"Chinese. I need about a half hour or so to get ready."
It was 11:50, so we made plans for him to pick me up at 12:30. I really, really didn't want to see him after last night, but I was hungry, and he had been kind of amazing. Since I had already showered, I just needed to do something with my hair and put some makeup on. I changed quickly into a pair of shorts and a sleeveless shirt, yanked a brush through my hair, and brushed my teeth again. I inspected my hair, which badly need a cut and new highlights, and twisted it into a loose, messy French braid. Then I put on just enough makeup so that I looked hot, but not so much that it looked like I was putting in too much effort for a lunch date with the guy that picked my drunk ass up from the bar last night.
I was still searching for shoes when Cole rang my doorbell at 12:32. I pulled open the door and greeted him briefly, acting overly casual to account for the embarrassment I still felt. I grabbed a pair of flat t-strap sandals and sat down to put them on. "Need some help?" Cole asked, smirking a little.
"No, believe it or not, I'm usually perfectly capable of putting on and taking off my own shoes."
"Good, because putting pieces of clothing on a beautiful woman isn't nearly as fun as taking them off," he replied. I have to admit that I was surprised he was flirting after my ridiculous performance last night.
"Well, if you want a redo, I'll let you take them off again later, and maybe you'll actually get something out of your efforts this time," I replied, falling easily into the familiar flirting pattern.
"Maybe?" he asked. "You were pretty eager last night."
"Shut up," I retorted. "I'd like to pretend last night didn't happen." I finished with my shoes, grabbed my purse, and stood up.
"I'm actually surprised you even responded to my text, much less agreed to lunch," he replied, pulling my front door open and holding it while I walked out. "You were pretty embarrassed, even last night."
"Yes, well, I do have some shame," I said. He pulled my front door shut but didn't move out of the way, so I had to brush against him to get at the door to lock it. "Close enough?" I asked, leaning slightly closer.
"Not yet," he replied. He shifted closer and tucked a piece of hair behind my ear. Then he leaned towards me, and I thought for a second that he might just go ahead and kiss me right here. Instead, he put his mouth close to my ear and said, "Now I am." His lips barely brushed my earlobe and I shivered.
I leaned back and rolled my eyes. "Let's go, Suave. I'm starving." He chuckled and motioned for me to go ahead. I walked down the 3 steps and down the sidewalk to his car. "Enjoying the view?" I called over my shoulder.
"You know it," he said. God, he could be such a fucking sleaze sometimes. But really, "fucking sleaze" is my type, so I guess that was a good call on his part. Last night's niceness was definitely an unusual thing for him. Not that he's a total dick, but he definitely relies on his good looks and doesn't feel the need to do much more than that.
Once we were in the car, he said, "I have to admit, I'm a little curious what happened with the boyfriend."
"We broke up," I said bluntly. "That's what happened."
"Got bored?"
I sighed. He could be more stubborn than me, so I decided to just tell him. "No, he's married to his family. They all live in the area and he constantly wanted us to do things with them. Which was fine, except that I suck at communicating and didn't tell him when enough was enough. And then I got pissed, and he got all hurt that I wasn't telling him, and he said he couldn't trust that I'd communicate with him and he didn't want to always be wondering if I was resentful of hanging out with his family. Then he told me he needed to time to think and kept me hanging for a week, and that was the end of that, because I don't fucking wait around."
"That's rough," he said sympathetically. Ugh, stop being nice. I might have to provoke him.
"It's fine," I responded. "His younger sister is a wretched princess anyway so I'm glad to be rid of her."
"Yep, you're so glad about it all that you're out getting wasted and booty-calling people."
I glared at him. "If you don't move on from this conversation, I will most certainly not be booty-calling you ever again," I promised.
"So it was a booty call?" he asked, smirking.
"I think I made that pretty clear, did I not?" I asked, exasperated. "You are very quickly making me regret it, though."
"I'm sorry, would you prefer if I just sat here quietly and looked pretty?" he asked.
"Yes," I replied. "You can pay for my lunch too."
He laughed. "Man, I've missed you," he said. "My new job isn't the same without your attitude." He slid his eyes towards me and smirked and added, "And your ass."
"Do you talk this incessantly during sex too?" I asked, leaning my head back against the supple leather headrest and closing my eyes. "I think my headache is coming back. And I might have liked you better when you were being a gentleman last night."
"Didn't know I had it in me, did you?" he asked.
"I really didn't," I replied. "If I wasn't so drunk I would have demanded to know what was wrong with you."
"I'm full of surprises," he said, cocking an eyebrow at me as he parked.
I snorted. "I doubt it."
Our lunch was full of both flirtatious and sarcastic banter. He paid, even though I did actually try to pay for my own. On the drive back to my house, he draped his right arm casually across the center console and lightly drew random patterns on my bare thigh with his middle finger. By the time we got back to my house, I was pretty much ready to just take my clothes off right there in the car.
"Are you coming in?" I asked him.
"Am I invited?" he asked in response.
I rolled my eyes. "Is 'are you coming in?' not invitation enough for you? Consider this your formal invitation to come inside and have sex with me."
"God, you're charming," he said, laughing. "Let's go, then." As we walked up the sidewalk to my house, he slid his arm around my waist and gripped my hip possessively. While I unlocked my door, his fingers slipped beneath the hem of my shirt and stroked the bare skin above the waistband of my shorts.
The door was barely closed behind me when I turned to face him, grabbed his forearms, and pulled his body against mine. His hands wrapped around my hips as his lips crashed against mine, and I almost moaned when they slid over my hips and tightened on my ass. He lifted me easily and walked over to the couch, settling me in his lap as he sat, his mouth never leaving mine.
His hands traveled down my legs, then back up, over my hips, and up my back. He grabbed a handful of hair at the back of my head with one hand and tilted my head back, then moved his mouth to my throat. I groaned as he sucked lightly, then used his grip on my hair to tilt my head to the side. He moved up the side of my neck, switching among licking, sucking, and gently biting. When he got to my ear, he stopped and whispered, "You're so fucking hot." I felt a flash of annoyance, and for a second I missed being told I was beautiful instead of hot. Not that I wanted Cole to tell me I was beautiful. That would just be weird.
I was getting impatient, so I sped things up by starting to peel off pieces of clothing. That got things moving in the direction I wanted. When his mouth started to move down my stomach, though, I stiffened a little. Oral sex is something I consider to be far more intimate than actual sex, and something I don't usually do with guys unless I'm dating them.
"Wait," I said, as he nipped at my hipbone. "I don't think....mmmm." My resolve to stop him shattered as his mouth moved lower and his tongue slid against my skin.
"What?" he asked, looking up at me.
"Nothing," I replied, pushing my fingers into his hair. "Never mind."
He shrugged and continued and I quickly forgot my "rule". It was worth it, too. Two orgasms worth it. Everything else was just as good, and he even had his own condoms. I like a man that comes prepared and doesn't try to get out of using a condom. I might be easy, but I'm not an idiot.
Afterwards, we both laid sprawled across my couch. He was smart enough to not try to cuddle with me, and thank god for that. He did rake his fingers lightly up and down the inside of my forearm, which was perfectly acceptable and actually quite pleasant.
"I've been wanting to do that for a long time," he said, increasing the pressure of his fingers on my arm slightly.
I pulled my arm away and sat up, looking for my clothes. "Don't fucking make it weird," I complained.
He chuckled as he sat up and pulled his clothes on. "I'll take that as my cue to leave, then."
"Solid choice," I replied.
I trailed him towards the door. I hadn't been able to find my bra for some reason, it must have gotten kicked under the couch, so I just slid my tank top back on. I'd find it later. "So, was this a one-time deal, or could we make it a regular occurrence?" he asked, sliding his feet into his shoes. He looked up at me, and he had a cocky grin on his face and one eyebrow cocked in question.
"Let's not get ahead of ourselves with this 'regular occurrence' bullshit, but I'd be open to doing it again," I said. "I think you earned that with today's performance."
"Just to be sure," he said, reaching for me. He grabbed my waist (and his hand was big enough that his fingertips touched my spine) and pulled me to him, then pressed his lips to mine. I was caught off-guard enough that I kissed him back, and I moaned softly when he sucked on my bottom lip, then nipped it lightly. The hand that didn't have me by the waist slid across the front of my tight tank top and gently tugged on my nipple through my shirt. I was about ready to take all my clothes off again when he pulled away. "See you next time," he said, smirking at me. And then he was out the door, before I could even process it.
"Fucker," I muttered, locking the door behind him. After he drove away, I busied myself organizing my closet. Staying busy distracted me from thinking about the fact that even though the sex was good (very good), after 10 months of having sex with someone that I had actual feelings for, it still felt like something was missing. But, I'd do it again, because the sex was good.
Monday was a rough day. I had, for a change, very little to do at work. When I had nothing to do, my thoughts wandered to Damien. Thinking about Damien was hard and painful, so in an effort to occupy myself, I downloaded Tinder. Why not? I scrolled through, swiping left on most, right on a couple. It was only a matter of about an hour until I was chatting with a few guys, and two hours until I had a date set up for Tuesday and another one for Thursday. This was easy. Way easier than picking guys up in bars. So far, at least.
I had been wary of going to dinner with Liv and Lauren, because I knew Lauren didn't exactly approve of my recent actions. But I decided I wasn't going to let her bad attitude keep me from doing something I otherwise would have done, and I went. I guess I should have just went home, because we hadn't even finished our meal before shit blew up and I stormed out. I felt bad leaving because Liv had been trying to keep the peace, but Lauren just bulldozed right over her in her usual fashion. What a fucking hypocrite. I had no doubt that she'd do the same damn thing if she and Alex were to break up. And I really did believe she was worried, but her worry came out sideways as 'judgmental bitch' and I wasn't in a place to hear it.
I knew we'd make up. I knew Liv would talk some sense into her and she'd come around. She probably wouldn't apologize, but we'd just pretend nothing had happened. That's how Lauren rolled. It might take a couple weeks, but that was fine. Judging by how many times my phone had vibrated in the past 15 minutes, I'd have plenty to keep me occupied for the next couple weeks.
____________________________________
The first thing I felt when I woke up early the next morning was awful. My mouth felt like it was full of steel wool. Rusty, moldy, foul-tasting steel wool. My head felt like someone was using a chainsaw on my skull. My eyes were scratchy, my throat was raw, and my stomach was still not back to normal.
The first thing I thought when I woke up was "oh shit, what the fuck did I do last night?" You know that immediate, sinking feeling of shame that accompanies waking up hungover, even before you remember exactly what it was you did that made you look like an idiot? Yeah.
I rolled over and reached for the glass of water I spied on my nightstand. As soon as I saw it, the foggy, patchy events of last night came rushing back to me. I groaned out loud as I remembered Cole taking my shoes off, dragging me upstairs, and holding my hair back while I exorcised my alcoholic demons. "Fuuuck," I muttered to myself. I remembered his actions and his presence, but I couldn't remember any of the things we'd talked about. Assuming, of course, that we'd talked at some point between him picking me up and leaving.
I grabbed the glass and drank half of it. It was room temperature, but at that moment I didn't even care. I got up and stumbled to the bathroom, peed, brushed my teeth, and dug through the cabinet for some tylenol. I swallowed two with water from the faucet, and then went back to my room. I looked down, realizing I was still in my clothes from the night before. I peeled them off and climbed back into bed.
After tossing and turning, trying to get comfortable for what felt like a really long time, I finally fell back to sleep. When I woke up again several hours later, I felt considerably better. I was thankful for my tendency to wake up super early when I've been drinking, because getting up and drinking some water and taking tylenol always helps.
I hauled my sorry ass into the shower, and by the time I was dressed in yoga pants and a t-shirt I felt almost human again. I made my way downstairs and found my purse on the floor by door. I fished my phone out of it, discovered it was dead, and plugged it in. Not even 10 minutes after I'd sat down on the couch, my phone vibrated. I leaned across the couch and saw that it was a text from Cole. Anxiety washed over me as I opened the text and read it. "How are you feeling today? Hopefully not too bad. You were pretty strongly against lunch last night, but if you've changed your mind, the offer stands."
I tried to remember having a conversation with him about lunch, but nothing came to mind. Even so, I considered just deleting his message and pretending it hadn't happened. He'd seen me throwing up, for fuck's sake. On the other hand, he'd made sure I got home safely, made sure my hair made it safely through my puke-fest, and had remained a gentleman (as far as I remembered) the whole time. The least I could do is have lunch with the poor guy.
So I texted him back, "I feel far better than I deserve to after last night's shit show. I'm starving, and I can't remember why I said no to lunch, so I guess it's your lucky day!"
"Hangover food of choice?" he responded, not even a minute later.
"Chinese. I need about a half hour or so to get ready."
It was 11:50, so we made plans for him to pick me up at 12:30. I really, really didn't want to see him after last night, but I was hungry, and he had been kind of amazing. Since I had already showered, I just needed to do something with my hair and put some makeup on. I changed quickly into a pair of shorts and a sleeveless shirt, yanked a brush through my hair, and brushed my teeth again. I inspected my hair, which badly need a cut and new highlights, and twisted it into a loose, messy French braid. Then I put on just enough makeup so that I looked hot, but not so much that it looked like I was putting in too much effort for a lunch date with the guy that picked my drunk ass up from the bar last night.
I was still searching for shoes when Cole rang my doorbell at 12:32. I pulled open the door and greeted him briefly, acting overly casual to account for the embarrassment I still felt. I grabbed a pair of flat t-strap sandals and sat down to put them on. "Need some help?" Cole asked, smirking a little.
"No, believe it or not, I'm usually perfectly capable of putting on and taking off my own shoes."
"Good, because putting pieces of clothing on a beautiful woman isn't nearly as fun as taking them off," he replied. I have to admit that I was surprised he was flirting after my ridiculous performance last night.
"Well, if you want a redo, I'll let you take them off again later, and maybe you'll actually get something out of your efforts this time," I replied, falling easily into the familiar flirting pattern.
"Maybe?" he asked. "You were pretty eager last night."
"Shut up," I retorted. "I'd like to pretend last night didn't happen." I finished with my shoes, grabbed my purse, and stood up.
"I'm actually surprised you even responded to my text, much less agreed to lunch," he replied, pulling my front door open and holding it while I walked out. "You were pretty embarrassed, even last night."
"Yes, well, I do have some shame," I said. He pulled my front door shut but didn't move out of the way, so I had to brush against him to get at the door to lock it. "Close enough?" I asked, leaning slightly closer.
"Not yet," he replied. He shifted closer and tucked a piece of hair behind my ear. Then he leaned towards me, and I thought for a second that he might just go ahead and kiss me right here. Instead, he put his mouth close to my ear and said, "Now I am." His lips barely brushed my earlobe and I shivered.
I leaned back and rolled my eyes. "Let's go, Suave. I'm starving." He chuckled and motioned for me to go ahead. I walked down the 3 steps and down the sidewalk to his car. "Enjoying the view?" I called over my shoulder.
"You know it," he said. God, he could be such a fucking sleaze sometimes. But really, "fucking sleaze" is my type, so I guess that was a good call on his part. Last night's niceness was definitely an unusual thing for him. Not that he's a total dick, but he definitely relies on his good looks and doesn't feel the need to do much more than that.
Once we were in the car, he said, "I have to admit, I'm a little curious what happened with the boyfriend."
"We broke up," I said bluntly. "That's what happened."
"Got bored?"
I sighed. He could be more stubborn than me, so I decided to just tell him. "No, he's married to his family. They all live in the area and he constantly wanted us to do things with them. Which was fine, except that I suck at communicating and didn't tell him when enough was enough. And then I got pissed, and he got all hurt that I wasn't telling him, and he said he couldn't trust that I'd communicate with him and he didn't want to always be wondering if I was resentful of hanging out with his family. Then he told me he needed to time to think and kept me hanging for a week, and that was the end of that, because I don't fucking wait around."
"That's rough," he said sympathetically. Ugh, stop being nice. I might have to provoke him.
"It's fine," I responded. "His younger sister is a wretched princess anyway so I'm glad to be rid of her."
"Yep, you're so glad about it all that you're out getting wasted and booty-calling people."
I glared at him. "If you don't move on from this conversation, I will most certainly not be booty-calling you ever again," I promised.
"So it was a booty call?" he asked, smirking.
"I think I made that pretty clear, did I not?" I asked, exasperated. "You are very quickly making me regret it, though."
"I'm sorry, would you prefer if I just sat here quietly and looked pretty?" he asked.
"Yes," I replied. "You can pay for my lunch too."
He laughed. "Man, I've missed you," he said. "My new job isn't the same without your attitude." He slid his eyes towards me and smirked and added, "And your ass."
"Do you talk this incessantly during sex too?" I asked, leaning my head back against the supple leather headrest and closing my eyes. "I think my headache is coming back. And I might have liked you better when you were being a gentleman last night."
"Didn't know I had it in me, did you?" he asked.
"I really didn't," I replied. "If I wasn't so drunk I would have demanded to know what was wrong with you."
"I'm full of surprises," he said, cocking an eyebrow at me as he parked.
I snorted. "I doubt it."
Our lunch was full of both flirtatious and sarcastic banter. He paid, even though I did actually try to pay for my own. On the drive back to my house, he draped his right arm casually across the center console and lightly drew random patterns on my bare thigh with his middle finger. By the time we got back to my house, I was pretty much ready to just take my clothes off right there in the car.
"Are you coming in?" I asked him.
"Am I invited?" he asked in response.
I rolled my eyes. "Is 'are you coming in?' not invitation enough for you? Consider this your formal invitation to come inside and have sex with me."
"God, you're charming," he said, laughing. "Let's go, then." As we walked up the sidewalk to my house, he slid his arm around my waist and gripped my hip possessively. While I unlocked my door, his fingers slipped beneath the hem of my shirt and stroked the bare skin above the waistband of my shorts.
The door was barely closed behind me when I turned to face him, grabbed his forearms, and pulled his body against mine. His hands wrapped around my hips as his lips crashed against mine, and I almost moaned when they slid over my hips and tightened on my ass. He lifted me easily and walked over to the couch, settling me in his lap as he sat, his mouth never leaving mine.
His hands traveled down my legs, then back up, over my hips, and up my back. He grabbed a handful of hair at the back of my head with one hand and tilted my head back, then moved his mouth to my throat. I groaned as he sucked lightly, then used his grip on my hair to tilt my head to the side. He moved up the side of my neck, switching among licking, sucking, and gently biting. When he got to my ear, he stopped and whispered, "You're so fucking hot." I felt a flash of annoyance, and for a second I missed being told I was beautiful instead of hot. Not that I wanted Cole to tell me I was beautiful. That would just be weird.
I was getting impatient, so I sped things up by starting to peel off pieces of clothing. That got things moving in the direction I wanted. When his mouth started to move down my stomach, though, I stiffened a little. Oral sex is something I consider to be far more intimate than actual sex, and something I don't usually do with guys unless I'm dating them.
"Wait," I said, as he nipped at my hipbone. "I don't think....mmmm." My resolve to stop him shattered as his mouth moved lower and his tongue slid against my skin.
"What?" he asked, looking up at me.
"Nothing," I replied, pushing my fingers into his hair. "Never mind."
He shrugged and continued and I quickly forgot my "rule". It was worth it, too. Two orgasms worth it. Everything else was just as good, and he even had his own condoms. I like a man that comes prepared and doesn't try to get out of using a condom. I might be easy, but I'm not an idiot.
Afterwards, we both laid sprawled across my couch. He was smart enough to not try to cuddle with me, and thank god for that. He did rake his fingers lightly up and down the inside of my forearm, which was perfectly acceptable and actually quite pleasant.
"I've been wanting to do that for a long time," he said, increasing the pressure of his fingers on my arm slightly.
I pulled my arm away and sat up, looking for my clothes. "Don't fucking make it weird," I complained.
He chuckled as he sat up and pulled his clothes on. "I'll take that as my cue to leave, then."
"Solid choice," I replied.
I trailed him towards the door. I hadn't been able to find my bra for some reason, it must have gotten kicked under the couch, so I just slid my tank top back on. I'd find it later. "So, was this a one-time deal, or could we make it a regular occurrence?" he asked, sliding his feet into his shoes. He looked up at me, and he had a cocky grin on his face and one eyebrow cocked in question.
"Let's not get ahead of ourselves with this 'regular occurrence' bullshit, but I'd be open to doing it again," I said. "I think you earned that with today's performance."
"Just to be sure," he said, reaching for me. He grabbed my waist (and his hand was big enough that his fingertips touched my spine) and pulled me to him, then pressed his lips to mine. I was caught off-guard enough that I kissed him back, and I moaned softly when he sucked on my bottom lip, then nipped it lightly. The hand that didn't have me by the waist slid across the front of my tight tank top and gently tugged on my nipple through my shirt. I was about ready to take all my clothes off again when he pulled away. "See you next time," he said, smirking at me. And then he was out the door, before I could even process it.
"Fucker," I muttered, locking the door behind him. After he drove away, I busied myself organizing my closet. Staying busy distracted me from thinking about the fact that even though the sex was good (very good), after 10 months of having sex with someone that I had actual feelings for, it still felt like something was missing. But, I'd do it again, because the sex was good.
Monday was a rough day. I had, for a change, very little to do at work. When I had nothing to do, my thoughts wandered to Damien. Thinking about Damien was hard and painful, so in an effort to occupy myself, I downloaded Tinder. Why not? I scrolled through, swiping left on most, right on a couple. It was only a matter of about an hour until I was chatting with a few guys, and two hours until I had a date set up for Tuesday and another one for Thursday. This was easy. Way easier than picking guys up in bars. So far, at least.
I had been wary of going to dinner with Liv and Lauren, because I knew Lauren didn't exactly approve of my recent actions. But I decided I wasn't going to let her bad attitude keep me from doing something I otherwise would have done, and I went. I guess I should have just went home, because we hadn't even finished our meal before shit blew up and I stormed out. I felt bad leaving because Liv had been trying to keep the peace, but Lauren just bulldozed right over her in her usual fashion. What a fucking hypocrite. I had no doubt that she'd do the same damn thing if she and Alex were to break up. And I really did believe she was worried, but her worry came out sideways as 'judgmental bitch' and I wasn't in a place to hear it.
I knew we'd make up. I knew Liv would talk some sense into her and she'd come around. She probably wouldn't apologize, but we'd just pretend nothing had happened. That's how Lauren rolled. It might take a couple weeks, but that was fine. Judging by how many times my phone had vibrated in the past 15 minutes, I'd have plenty to keep me occupied for the next couple weeks.
Sunday, July 26, 2015
It's Definitely a Monday
Our Sunday night date was a wonderful bit of normalcy injected into what had been a whirlwind few weeks. I was almost ready to get up and get to work on cheerfully on Monday. Almost. Working Saturdays hadn't been too bad for several months, and I enjoyed my three day weekends on the opposite weeks, but we'd been so busy lately that with really only one day off after a 6 day work week I was starting to get a little disenchanted with my schedule. I loved my job, but Mondays were always hard after my one day weekend.
Since he had been gone for well over a week, Brody was up and gone before I even got up, so I didn't even have his unflappable morning-person cheer to perk me up. Instead, I dragged myself through my morning routine grouchily. When I got downstairs, I realized that we didn't really have anything quick for breakfast, so I grabbed a banana and a leftover piece of pizza from Saturday. Weird combo, but it worked. I made myself some coffee and took off, for once glad for my commute so I had a little time to wake up and put on a happy face before I had to start seeing clients.
Shortly after I got settled in my office, a knock on my door startled me. I looked up and saw Kelly standing in the doorway of my office, smiling. "Good morning," I said, smiling back.
"Good morning!" she replied cheerfully. "I just wanted to let you know that your PTO and leave requests for your wedding and honeymoon were approved. Congratulations, by the way!"
"Thanks!" I said. She had just brightened my morning.
"You guys are getting married really soon, you must be excited. Where are you going for your honeymoon?"
"If by excited, you mean completed stressed out and overwhelmed with trying to plan a wedding in three months, you're right," I replied, laughing. "And I have no idea, actually. My fiancé is planning it."
She made a face. "I don't know if I could let my husband plan a surprise trip. He would probably take us on a ridiculous fishing trip."
I laughed. "I think mine will do just fine," I said.
We chatted for a couple more minutes and then she left, but was quickly replaced in my doorway by Josh. Josh, who I hadn't missed one single bit. "Did I hear you say you're planning a wedding in three months?" he asked curiously.
"Yes," I replied shortly, not even looking up at him. I had absolutely no patience left for him, especially on a Monday morning.
"Why so soon? Are you pregnant?"
"No!" I snapped. "I'm not fucking pregnant. But if I was, it wouldn't be any of your goddamn business."
"Well," he huffed. "I can see why Brody is in such a hurry to marry you. Wouldn't want someone else to snatch you up. You're so sweet and charming, it's amazing that all the men in Denver aren't knocking down your door."
"Oh, fuck off," I muttered.
"Have a good day," he said cheerfully, backing out of my doorway and disappearing.
I made it through the day without swearing at anyone else, but I was still more than ready to vent to Lauren and have a drink when we met up for dinner. We had invited Kinsley on Saturday, but I had no idea if she'd actually come. I hoped she did though.
Lauren was already at the restaurant when I got there and I slid into the seat across from her. "Kinsley's coming, so I just got a bottle of wine," she said, motioning to the bottle in the middle of the table. I eagerly poured myself a glass and took a drink. In response to my enthusiasm, she added, "Maybe I should have gotten two."
"It's definitely a Monday," I offered by way of explanation. When Kinsley arrived a few minutes later, I told them about Josh. "I really wish he'd get a new job. Or just quit. I don't care if he has a job or not." Kinsley and Lauren sympathized with me, and we complained generally about crappy coworkers for awhile.
"I want to go somewhere new on Thursday for happy hour," Lauren said awhile later. "I'm tired of going to the same places over and over. Any suggestions?"
Kinsley shrugged. "I won't be there, I have a Tinder date."
"Tinder?" Lauren asked, surprised.
"Yes, Tinder," Kinsley replied. "It's not as easy to meet men now that none of my friends are single anymore," she added.
"Kinsley, it's only been 4 days since you broke up with Damien," Lauren said cautiously.
"So?" Kinsley shrugged. "It's been 10 months of sex with the same person. I have some catching up to do."
"I don't think--" I started, but Lauren cut me off.
"But Tinder? 4 days after you broke up with Damien? Though I guess I shouldn't be surprised, since you disappeared with a random 2 days after."
"What the fuck, Lauren?" Kinsley snapped. "You sleep with the same guy for 7 months and you're suddenly in a place that you get to judge me? Did you forget that you've fucked even more guys than I have?"
"You guys," I said. "This isn't--" Once again, I was cut off by Lauren.
"I haven't just been sleeping with the same guy for 7 months," she spat. "I'm worried about you! I don't want you to do things you'll regret."
"Worried," Kinsley retorted, laughing. "Yeah, you're really fucking worried. You were so worried on Saturday that you stood at that stupid table and shot me dirty looks all night. What a great, worried friend you are!" She grabbed her purse, pulled out her wallet and dropped a $20 bill on the table. "Let me know if you decide to stop being such a judgmental bitch, and actually want to listen to what's going on in my life." She turned to me. "Sorry, Liv. I can't sit here anymore. I'd love to see you soon though." Then she turned on her heel and stormed away.
"Can you believe her?" Lauren asked, turning to me.
"I can, actually," I replied. "She's right. You're being judgmental, and it sucks."
"Seriously, Liv? You're good with sitting here and letting her ruin her life?"
"No, I'm not okay with sitting here and letting her ruin her life," I replied calmly. "I don't want her to do anything stupid, but she's always made reasonable choices. And if you really are worried--which I do believe you are, and I am too--you're not approaching it the best way."
Lauren stared at me silently for several seconds, then grabbed her purse. She repeated Kinsley's actions, dropping some money on the table and standing up. "I need to get out of here," she said. Then she left, leaving me sitting alone in the restaurant with three half-eaten meals on our table.
When our waitress stopped by and asked if we needed anything, she looked at me curiously. "Can I just have the bill, please?" I asked. She nodded and left, returning in a couple minutes with the bill and a couple of boxes. "I just need one, thanks," I said. I handed her my card and grabbed Lauren's and Kinsley's cash off the table and shoved it in my wallet. I left as soon as I signed the credit card slip and shoved my card back into my wallet.
I was so grateful to see Brody's SUV in the garage when I pulled in. I walked inside and found him sitting on the couch with his laptop. He set his laptop aside as I walked over. I dropped my purse and work bag on the floor and curled up against him, burying my face in his shirt.
"Bad day?" he asked, wrapping his arms around me. I nodded. "Want to talk about it?" I shook my head. He stroked my hair and said, "I'm sorry your day sucked." In that moment, that was all I needed. We sat there silently for several minutes, his hand eventually finding its way beneath my hair so he could stroke the back of my neck with his thumb. I finally relaxed, sagging a little against him.
After a little while longer, I adjusted so I was laying on my back across the couch with my head in his lap. I looked up at him. "How was your day?"
He shrugged. "It was a Monday after being gone for over a week. It seems like maybe it was better than yours, though."
I filled him in on my encounter with Josh and dinner. "So now Kinsley's pissed at Lauren, and Lauren's pissed at me," I finished. "And I'm just worn out from the last couple weeks and could have used an actual weekend instead of just one day off this weekend. Except I feel ridiculous complaining about that to you, because you work even more than I do."
"Things have slowed down considerably for me lately, aside from the last week with traveling," he said. "And you've been doing the bulk of work around the house too, so that counts for something."
"I'm mostly worried it's going to make wedding planning even harder than it's already going to be," I admitted. "Since I'm sure we'll do the bulk of appointments and such on Saturdays, and I can really only do every other Saturday."
"Is there any way to make it so you just work a Monday through Friday work week, and don't work on Saturdays?"
I shook my head. "The only way I can get my Saturdays off is if I go down to a .75 FTE or less."
"What would that look like?"
"I'd work 4 slightly shorter weekdays, whichever ones I wanted, as long as I was there for our monthly staff meeting."
"That sounds like a pretty nice schedule," Brody said.
"Yeah, it would be," I agreed. "And if you're .75, you still get to keep the benefits, you just accrue PTO at a slightly lower rate. And obviously you get paid less."
"I can't figure out how to say this without you assuming that I'm slowly moving you towards being my trophy wife, but if you want to drop your hours down for awhile, you should."
I considered this. Cutting down my hours wasn't something I'd really thought about, because it would have meant transferring clients, and I didn't want to do that. But I had a couple clients that I'd be talking to about closing soon, and if I made my days a little more efficient and did some paperwork at home instead of doing it all in the office, I could probably fit my remaining clients into four days every week.
"You're not saying anything," Brody said. "That makes me nervous."
I laughed. "No, don't be. I'm just thinking about it. I could probably do it, but going to part time because of planning a wedding seems a little silly."
".75 FTE is barely part-time," Brody countered. "And you wouldn't be doing it because of wedding planning, you'd be doing it for your sanity. And indirectly, for my sanity." I made a face at him and he laughed. "Obviously, I support whatever you want to do. But if you'd be happier working that schedule, I see no reason for you not to do it."
"I'll think about it and maybe talk to HR to get some more information," I agreed. "Now would be the time to do it."
We spent the rest of the evening hanging out on the couch, and I filled him on my good news for the day, which was that my leave and PTO had been approved. "So I guess you'd better get busy planning a kick ass honeymoon," I joked.
"You have the entire two weeks after the wedding off?" he asked. I nodded. "Good. I have something in mind, I was just waiting for confirmation of your PTO."
I cocked an eyebrow. "That was quick. Not much planning huh?"
"I may have spent some time at work today doing some googling. This happens to be a place I heard of a couple years back, so I just had to find it again. I looked at other options too, but there's a clear winner. I've been planning this, in my head at least, since we started wedding planning."
"I'm intrigued," I replied. "I almost want you to tell me."
"No way!" he said. "All I'll tell you is that it's tropical, it's a goddamn miracle they have something available at this point, and it's going to be amazing."
"That did absolutely nothing to quell my need to know," I said.
"That sucks for you," he teased me. "That's what happens when you're so eager to give up planning something that you don't consider the consequences of the deal you made."
I laughed. "I'm sure it will be worth it in the end. Just don't torture me about my lack of knowledge for the next three months, okay?"
"I make no promises," he replied.
It ended up being exactly what I needed, just hanging out on the couch with Brody. It was stress and drama-free, wedding-planning-free, relaxing, and just nice to spend an evening doing very little with Brody. We didn't get to spend many evenings like this.
"I'm glad you were home tonight," I told him. "You improved my day significantly."
"I'm just glad you didn't try to kill me when I suggested you lose some hours at work," he said, grinning.
"There's still time, if you want to keep testing your luck," I warned him playfully.
"I'd hate to ruin our evening, so I guess I'll quit while I'm ahead," he said with a laugh.
"Good choice."
We ended up going to bed early and I was able to shut out thoughts of Josh, work, Lauren, and wedding planning and actually get a good night's sleep so I could be in a better mood the next day.
Since he had been gone for well over a week, Brody was up and gone before I even got up, so I didn't even have his unflappable morning-person cheer to perk me up. Instead, I dragged myself through my morning routine grouchily. When I got downstairs, I realized that we didn't really have anything quick for breakfast, so I grabbed a banana and a leftover piece of pizza from Saturday. Weird combo, but it worked. I made myself some coffee and took off, for once glad for my commute so I had a little time to wake up and put on a happy face before I had to start seeing clients.
Shortly after I got settled in my office, a knock on my door startled me. I looked up and saw Kelly standing in the doorway of my office, smiling. "Good morning," I said, smiling back.
"Good morning!" she replied cheerfully. "I just wanted to let you know that your PTO and leave requests for your wedding and honeymoon were approved. Congratulations, by the way!"
"Thanks!" I said. She had just brightened my morning.
"You guys are getting married really soon, you must be excited. Where are you going for your honeymoon?"
"If by excited, you mean completed stressed out and overwhelmed with trying to plan a wedding in three months, you're right," I replied, laughing. "And I have no idea, actually. My fiancé is planning it."
She made a face. "I don't know if I could let my husband plan a surprise trip. He would probably take us on a ridiculous fishing trip."
I laughed. "I think mine will do just fine," I said.
We chatted for a couple more minutes and then she left, but was quickly replaced in my doorway by Josh. Josh, who I hadn't missed one single bit. "Did I hear you say you're planning a wedding in three months?" he asked curiously.
"Yes," I replied shortly, not even looking up at him. I had absolutely no patience left for him, especially on a Monday morning.
"Why so soon? Are you pregnant?"
"No!" I snapped. "I'm not fucking pregnant. But if I was, it wouldn't be any of your goddamn business."
"Well," he huffed. "I can see why Brody is in such a hurry to marry you. Wouldn't want someone else to snatch you up. You're so sweet and charming, it's amazing that all the men in Denver aren't knocking down your door."
"Oh, fuck off," I muttered.
"Have a good day," he said cheerfully, backing out of my doorway and disappearing.
I made it through the day without swearing at anyone else, but I was still more than ready to vent to Lauren and have a drink when we met up for dinner. We had invited Kinsley on Saturday, but I had no idea if she'd actually come. I hoped she did though.
Lauren was already at the restaurant when I got there and I slid into the seat across from her. "Kinsley's coming, so I just got a bottle of wine," she said, motioning to the bottle in the middle of the table. I eagerly poured myself a glass and took a drink. In response to my enthusiasm, she added, "Maybe I should have gotten two."
"It's definitely a Monday," I offered by way of explanation. When Kinsley arrived a few minutes later, I told them about Josh. "I really wish he'd get a new job. Or just quit. I don't care if he has a job or not." Kinsley and Lauren sympathized with me, and we complained generally about crappy coworkers for awhile.
"I want to go somewhere new on Thursday for happy hour," Lauren said awhile later. "I'm tired of going to the same places over and over. Any suggestions?"
Kinsley shrugged. "I won't be there, I have a Tinder date."
"Tinder?" Lauren asked, surprised.
"Yes, Tinder," Kinsley replied. "It's not as easy to meet men now that none of my friends are single anymore," she added.
"Kinsley, it's only been 4 days since you broke up with Damien," Lauren said cautiously.
"So?" Kinsley shrugged. "It's been 10 months of sex with the same person. I have some catching up to do."
"I don't think--" I started, but Lauren cut me off.
"But Tinder? 4 days after you broke up with Damien? Though I guess I shouldn't be surprised, since you disappeared with a random 2 days after."
"What the fuck, Lauren?" Kinsley snapped. "You sleep with the same guy for 7 months and you're suddenly in a place that you get to judge me? Did you forget that you've fucked even more guys than I have?"
"You guys," I said. "This isn't--" Once again, I was cut off by Lauren.
"I haven't just been sleeping with the same guy for 7 months," she spat. "I'm worried about you! I don't want you to do things you'll regret."
"Worried," Kinsley retorted, laughing. "Yeah, you're really fucking worried. You were so worried on Saturday that you stood at that stupid table and shot me dirty looks all night. What a great, worried friend you are!" She grabbed her purse, pulled out her wallet and dropped a $20 bill on the table. "Let me know if you decide to stop being such a judgmental bitch, and actually want to listen to what's going on in my life." She turned to me. "Sorry, Liv. I can't sit here anymore. I'd love to see you soon though." Then she turned on her heel and stormed away.
"Can you believe her?" Lauren asked, turning to me.
"I can, actually," I replied. "She's right. You're being judgmental, and it sucks."
"Seriously, Liv? You're good with sitting here and letting her ruin her life?"
"No, I'm not okay with sitting here and letting her ruin her life," I replied calmly. "I don't want her to do anything stupid, but she's always made reasonable choices. And if you really are worried--which I do believe you are, and I am too--you're not approaching it the best way."
Lauren stared at me silently for several seconds, then grabbed her purse. She repeated Kinsley's actions, dropping some money on the table and standing up. "I need to get out of here," she said. Then she left, leaving me sitting alone in the restaurant with three half-eaten meals on our table.
When our waitress stopped by and asked if we needed anything, she looked at me curiously. "Can I just have the bill, please?" I asked. She nodded and left, returning in a couple minutes with the bill and a couple of boxes. "I just need one, thanks," I said. I handed her my card and grabbed Lauren's and Kinsley's cash off the table and shoved it in my wallet. I left as soon as I signed the credit card slip and shoved my card back into my wallet.
I was so grateful to see Brody's SUV in the garage when I pulled in. I walked inside and found him sitting on the couch with his laptop. He set his laptop aside as I walked over. I dropped my purse and work bag on the floor and curled up against him, burying my face in his shirt.
"Bad day?" he asked, wrapping his arms around me. I nodded. "Want to talk about it?" I shook my head. He stroked my hair and said, "I'm sorry your day sucked." In that moment, that was all I needed. We sat there silently for several minutes, his hand eventually finding its way beneath my hair so he could stroke the back of my neck with his thumb. I finally relaxed, sagging a little against him.
After a little while longer, I adjusted so I was laying on my back across the couch with my head in his lap. I looked up at him. "How was your day?"
He shrugged. "It was a Monday after being gone for over a week. It seems like maybe it was better than yours, though."
I filled him in on my encounter with Josh and dinner. "So now Kinsley's pissed at Lauren, and Lauren's pissed at me," I finished. "And I'm just worn out from the last couple weeks and could have used an actual weekend instead of just one day off this weekend. Except I feel ridiculous complaining about that to you, because you work even more than I do."
"Things have slowed down considerably for me lately, aside from the last week with traveling," he said. "And you've been doing the bulk of work around the house too, so that counts for something."
"I'm mostly worried it's going to make wedding planning even harder than it's already going to be," I admitted. "Since I'm sure we'll do the bulk of appointments and such on Saturdays, and I can really only do every other Saturday."
"Is there any way to make it so you just work a Monday through Friday work week, and don't work on Saturdays?"
I shook my head. "The only way I can get my Saturdays off is if I go down to a .75 FTE or less."
"What would that look like?"
"I'd work 4 slightly shorter weekdays, whichever ones I wanted, as long as I was there for our monthly staff meeting."
"That sounds like a pretty nice schedule," Brody said.
"Yeah, it would be," I agreed. "And if you're .75, you still get to keep the benefits, you just accrue PTO at a slightly lower rate. And obviously you get paid less."
"I can't figure out how to say this without you assuming that I'm slowly moving you towards being my trophy wife, but if you want to drop your hours down for awhile, you should."
I considered this. Cutting down my hours wasn't something I'd really thought about, because it would have meant transferring clients, and I didn't want to do that. But I had a couple clients that I'd be talking to about closing soon, and if I made my days a little more efficient and did some paperwork at home instead of doing it all in the office, I could probably fit my remaining clients into four days every week.
"You're not saying anything," Brody said. "That makes me nervous."
I laughed. "No, don't be. I'm just thinking about it. I could probably do it, but going to part time because of planning a wedding seems a little silly."
".75 FTE is barely part-time," Brody countered. "And you wouldn't be doing it because of wedding planning, you'd be doing it for your sanity. And indirectly, for my sanity." I made a face at him and he laughed. "Obviously, I support whatever you want to do. But if you'd be happier working that schedule, I see no reason for you not to do it."
"I'll think about it and maybe talk to HR to get some more information," I agreed. "Now would be the time to do it."
We spent the rest of the evening hanging out on the couch, and I filled him on my good news for the day, which was that my leave and PTO had been approved. "So I guess you'd better get busy planning a kick ass honeymoon," I joked.
"You have the entire two weeks after the wedding off?" he asked. I nodded. "Good. I have something in mind, I was just waiting for confirmation of your PTO."
I cocked an eyebrow. "That was quick. Not much planning huh?"
"I may have spent some time at work today doing some googling. This happens to be a place I heard of a couple years back, so I just had to find it again. I looked at other options too, but there's a clear winner. I've been planning this, in my head at least, since we started wedding planning."
"I'm intrigued," I replied. "I almost want you to tell me."
"No way!" he said. "All I'll tell you is that it's tropical, it's a goddamn miracle they have something available at this point, and it's going to be amazing."
"That did absolutely nothing to quell my need to know," I said.
"That sucks for you," he teased me. "That's what happens when you're so eager to give up planning something that you don't consider the consequences of the deal you made."
I laughed. "I'm sure it will be worth it in the end. Just don't torture me about my lack of knowledge for the next three months, okay?"
"I make no promises," he replied.
It ended up being exactly what I needed, just hanging out on the couch with Brody. It was stress and drama-free, wedding-planning-free, relaxing, and just nice to spend an evening doing very little with Brody. We didn't get to spend many evenings like this.
"I'm glad you were home tonight," I told him. "You improved my day significantly."
"I'm just glad you didn't try to kill me when I suggested you lose some hours at work," he said, grinning.
"There's still time, if you want to keep testing your luck," I warned him playfully.
"I'd hate to ruin our evening, so I guess I'll quit while I'm ahead," he said with a laugh.
"Good choice."
We ended up going to bed early and I was able to shut out thoughts of Josh, work, Lauren, and wedding planning and actually get a good night's sleep so I could be in a better mood the next day.
Thursday, July 23, 2015
I Like When You Miss Me
On Saturday morning when my alarm went off, Brody rolled over and wrapped his arm around me. "You should call in sick," he suggested. I almost laughed. He suggested the same thing every morning after the day he got back from traveling.
"You know I'd love to," I replied. I laid there with him until I couldn't put off getting up any longer, then I untangled myself from him and stood.
He rolled onto his back and stretched. "Want breakfast?" he asked as I searched through my closet for clothes.
"Thanks, but I don't have time to sit and eat because I spent all my extra time cuddling with you," I teased him.
"I'll figure something out." He sat up and stretched again, then pulled a pair of shorts on. He walked over to my closet and kissed me on the cheek before he left the room and walked downstairs.
By the time I made it downstairs, he certainly had figured it out. He handed me a tumbler of iced coffee and a breakfast sandwich in a Ziploc bag. "I feel bad for other women," I said, kissing him and taking my breakfast.
"Oh yeah? And why's that?" he asked, cocking an eyebrow and leaning against the counter, looking every bit the cocky bastard that I had initially been so drawn to.
"Because they don't get to marry you," I replied. "And you're clearly the best. Thank you."
"You're welcome," he replied. He slid an arm around my waist and pulled me over to him. "You should see what I'd do for you if you called in sick."
I snorted. "You're so full of yourself."
He smirked and said, "I prefer it when you're full of me."
"You are filthy, and it's too early for your dirty jokes. At least I know that means you're in a good mood!" He grinned at me and kissed me lightly. "Are you going into the office today?"
"Yeah, I probably should," he grumbled. "I'll be home in time for dinner, then did you want to go out with Alex and Lauren tonight?"
"Works for me," I said. I looked at the clock on the microwave and had a moment of panic. "Shit, now I really have to go, I'll see you tonight. I love you." I kissed him and took off.
After work I went to the gym then home. Brody got home in time to help me make dinner and seduce me on the couch. "I like when you miss me," I joked, bending down to pick up my underwear from the floor where it had been discarded.
"I hate missing you," he countered, reaching up and wrapping his arms around my waist. He pulled me back down onto the couch and kissed my cheek.
"Well, I don't like missing you either," I amended. "But I like when you come home." We stayed on the couch for about 10 more minutes but then had to get up to get going back into town.
By the time we got to the bar where we were meeting our friends, Lauren, Alex, Kendra, Christian, and Kinsley were already there. I was surprised to see Kinsley, since she had not been responding to our texts, but she was definitely there, and definitely standing away from our table, very close to a guy I didn't recognize. Brody headed up to the bar to get us drinks, and Lauren nodded to Kinsley and whispered, "They broke up."
"Oh, shit," I muttered. "How's she doing?" Lauren gestured to Kinsley as if to say, "You can see what she's doing, how do you think?" Lauren narrowed her eyes slightly as Kinsley laughed and leaned against the guy.
"Don't look at her like that," Alex said, nudging Lauren with his shoulder. "You used to do the exact same thing."
"I did not! Not like that, anyway," Lauren retorted.
"Don't pretend like I haven't been jealously watching you do it for years. Trust me...you used to do the exact same thing." At that, Lauren blushed, which is not a thing Lauren does often. Kendra and I cracked up, and were still laughing when Brody came back and put a drink down in front of me.
We stayed for a few hours, but things quickly got a little weird. Kinsley disappeared with the guy she was talking to, then reappeared about 45 minutes later. She chatted with us again for a little while, then told us she had to go. She was pretty drunk and when Brody gently asked if she needed a ride, she said a friend was picking her up.
"What are we going to do with her?" Lauren asked after Kinsley had left.
I gave her a weird look. "What do you mean?"
"She can't keep running around and sleeping with every guy that smiles at her!" Lauren exclaimed with exasperation.
"Why not?" I asked.
Now it was Lauren's turn to give me a weird look. "I think she's making a mistake," she said after a long pause. "Or several."
"She's hurting," I said.
"I'm not so sure," Lauren replied. I got a little frustrated with the conversation. Of course I was worried about Kinsley, but judging her wasn't going to help. Shortly after, Brody complained of being exhausted from traveling and we took off.
"So, that got weird," he said, once we were on the way home.
I snorted. "You weren't there when Alex called Lauren out and told her she used to do the exact same thing.
"I bet that went well," Brody replied wryly.
"Better than you'd imagine, but it was a little awkward. Things are going to be weird for awhile, I think."
"I'm too old for this shit," he said, shaking his head.
I laughed. "So am I." It was going to be an interesting few weeks, at least.
Early Sunday morning, I woke up to Brody wrapping his arm around me and snuggling against me. I shifted a little and settled more comfortably against him. We laid there for a few minutes, and then he kissed my shoulder and said, "I'm going to get up and get a little work done. We'll do some wedding stuff this afternoon?"
"Yeah," I agreed sleepily. "What time are we having dinner with your mom?"
"Oh, I forgot to tell you, sorry. I called her and she said she meant next weekend. So not tonight." I nodded and burrowed further into the blankets as he got up. I fell back asleep quickly and slept for a few more hours.
When I finally dragged myself out of bed, I made myself breakfast, cleaned up the kitchen, and settled myself on the couch with my Kindle until lunchtime. I decided to make the homemade barbecue chicken pizza I'd been planning to make on Friday until I came home and discovered Brody already home and making dinner. Brody came out while I was in the middle of prepping it and asked if I needed help. I shook my head. "Want me to turn the oven on?" he asked.
"No, because I'm cooking it on the grill," I replied. He gave me a weird look, and I realized he had been deprived of grilled pizza so far in his life. "Trust me," I assured him.
He ended up enjoying the grilled pizza and agreeing that it was a good choice. I let him clean up after and went to get my wedding stuff on my laptop ready to show him. When he joined me, I talked him through what Kendra and Lauren had helped me with on Thursday. "Our main priority right now should be figuring out timelines, guest list, and addresses, because invitations need to go out really soon," I informed him. "Then we need to get our other services booked--photographer, flowers, music, and of course someone to actually marry us."
We talked through timelines, and I stubbornly insisted on wanting some photos done around sunset. After talking through numerous options that would allow us to do that, we decided on a timeline that had photos first, a cocktail hour that started while we were taking photos, an evening ceremony followed immediately by dinner, then the rest of the reception. I sent an email to Leigh to get her advice on actual times and make sure this was possible, then we set to work doing some research on the other things we'd need.
I'd sent an email to Kendra's photographer, who was unsurprisingly already booked for that day, but said there was a talented photographer with a very similar style that was just getting started that he'd worked with a few times that might be a good option. I'd contacted her and she was available and priced reasonably. Brody and I went through the photos on her site and emailed her again asking to meet with her. We sent a ton of emails and made some appointments, booking up most of the next Saturday with them.
After that, we moved onto the guest list. I pulled up the original list we'd made, and we bickered a little about some of the people on it. "We have enough space, and not all those people will come anyway," Brody said, after I shook my head at his addition of a friend he hadn't talked to in 3 years.
"That's the not point," I snapped back. "I don't want our wedding day to be a three-ring circus of people we barely know!"
"There are several people you have on the list that I've never met," he pointed out.
"They're family members that I see every year!" I was getting frustrated, and I cursed myself as my eyes started to well up. I hate that I'm a frustrated crier.
"Whoa," Brody said, his tone softer. "What's going on?"
I took a deep, shaky breath and tried to get myself together. "Getting married in front of a ton of people scares the shit out of me," I admitted.
He looked puzzled. "Okay..." he said, considering his next words carefully. "Do you know why?"
I nodded, and I furiously brushed loose pieces of hair out of my face. "It's hard enough to talk about my feelings with you, the idea of having feelings in front of a ton of people, some of which I'm bound to not know, or not know well, is absolutely terrifying. I cry at the drop of a hat, so I'll probably sob through the ceremony, and everyone is going to want to hug me, and that all kind of sounds like my worst nightmare."
Brody took my laptop out of my lap and gently closed it, setting it aside. He put his arm around me and I leaned against his should. "That makes sense," he said. "We could always scrap the plans and get married on a beach somewhere, just the two of us."
"You are perfect," I said. "But I really do want our close friends and family to be there. I'm just worried about it getting too big, and I'll be nervous no matter what. I'm sorry I tried to uninvite your friend."
"Well, technically he's not invited yet, so you're good," he joked. "I know we need to get this list done and get the addresses really soon, but maybe we should stop for today. We can finish it on Tuesday and then we can get addresses after that, and try to have everything to Lauren's mom by next weekend."
"Okay," I agreed. I was overwhelmed and tired of wedding planning anyway. "I can still send her the timeline and she can work on the invitations this week at least." Lauren's mom had offered to design our invitations and address all the envelopes. She planned to bring them with her when she came out to visit so that we could mail them right away the first week in August. In the meantime, we were sending out emails to all the people that we felt really strongly about having there to make sure they had as much notice as possible.
Brody looked at his watch, and I craned my neck to see it. It was 4:30. We'd been doing this for close to 4 hours without a break, no wonder I was over it. "It's been awhile since we've been out on an actual date," Brody commented. "Do you want to go out tonight? We can go have dinner and maybe find something else to do."
"Yes!" I agreed enthusiastically. "That sounds great."
I went upstairs to shower and shave. After my shower, I pulled on my robe and dried and curled my hair and put on makeup. I picked out a dress I hadn't worn since last summer and pulled it on. When Brody came out of the bathroom, he zipped it up for me, and then let out a low whistle. "You look amazing," he said appreciatively.
"Thanks," I replied, eyeing him up as he stood there in just a towel. "So do you."
"Save it for later, perv," he said, smirking at me as he pulled open his closet door.
Once we were both dressed and ready, we headed into town, discussing restaurant choices on the way. When we were settled at a table at our chosen restaurant, Brody said, "We haven't gotten to the fun part of wedding planning yet."
"Which is?" I asked.
"Planning the honeymoon."
"Oh no," I said. Brody gave me a weird look. "That's not on my list. I forgot that there's something else to plan!"
Brody couldn't help but laugh at me. "Well, since you planned Mexico, and you've done most of the legwork for the wedding planning so far, what if I planned the honeymoon?"
"I would love if you planned the honeymoon," I said, relieved. I couldn't fathom adding one more thing to the list at this point.
"One condition," he said, holding up a finger. I nodded at him to continue. "I want free rein to plan, which means I get to spend however much I want."
I narrowed my eyes at him, then remembered the amount of newly acquired money we'd talked about just two days earlier. "Deal," I agreed. "I don't even want to know how much you spent. Then my brain won't implode if it's too much."
"Done," he said, holding his hand out to shake on it. I rolled my eyes, but laughed and shook. I had a feeling I just agreed to having one hell of an over-the-top honeymoon.
"You know I'd love to," I replied. I laid there with him until I couldn't put off getting up any longer, then I untangled myself from him and stood.
He rolled onto his back and stretched. "Want breakfast?" he asked as I searched through my closet for clothes.
"Thanks, but I don't have time to sit and eat because I spent all my extra time cuddling with you," I teased him.
"I'll figure something out." He sat up and stretched again, then pulled a pair of shorts on. He walked over to my closet and kissed me on the cheek before he left the room and walked downstairs.
By the time I made it downstairs, he certainly had figured it out. He handed me a tumbler of iced coffee and a breakfast sandwich in a Ziploc bag. "I feel bad for other women," I said, kissing him and taking my breakfast.
"Oh yeah? And why's that?" he asked, cocking an eyebrow and leaning against the counter, looking every bit the cocky bastard that I had initially been so drawn to.
"Because they don't get to marry you," I replied. "And you're clearly the best. Thank you."
"You're welcome," he replied. He slid an arm around my waist and pulled me over to him. "You should see what I'd do for you if you called in sick."
I snorted. "You're so full of yourself."
He smirked and said, "I prefer it when you're full of me."
"You are filthy, and it's too early for your dirty jokes. At least I know that means you're in a good mood!" He grinned at me and kissed me lightly. "Are you going into the office today?"
"Yeah, I probably should," he grumbled. "I'll be home in time for dinner, then did you want to go out with Alex and Lauren tonight?"
"Works for me," I said. I looked at the clock on the microwave and had a moment of panic. "Shit, now I really have to go, I'll see you tonight. I love you." I kissed him and took off.
After work I went to the gym then home. Brody got home in time to help me make dinner and seduce me on the couch. "I like when you miss me," I joked, bending down to pick up my underwear from the floor where it had been discarded.
"I hate missing you," he countered, reaching up and wrapping his arms around my waist. He pulled me back down onto the couch and kissed my cheek.
"Well, I don't like missing you either," I amended. "But I like when you come home." We stayed on the couch for about 10 more minutes but then had to get up to get going back into town.
By the time we got to the bar where we were meeting our friends, Lauren, Alex, Kendra, Christian, and Kinsley were already there. I was surprised to see Kinsley, since she had not been responding to our texts, but she was definitely there, and definitely standing away from our table, very close to a guy I didn't recognize. Brody headed up to the bar to get us drinks, and Lauren nodded to Kinsley and whispered, "They broke up."
"Oh, shit," I muttered. "How's she doing?" Lauren gestured to Kinsley as if to say, "You can see what she's doing, how do you think?" Lauren narrowed her eyes slightly as Kinsley laughed and leaned against the guy.
"Don't look at her like that," Alex said, nudging Lauren with his shoulder. "You used to do the exact same thing."
"I did not! Not like that, anyway," Lauren retorted.
"Don't pretend like I haven't been jealously watching you do it for years. Trust me...you used to do the exact same thing." At that, Lauren blushed, which is not a thing Lauren does often. Kendra and I cracked up, and were still laughing when Brody came back and put a drink down in front of me.
We stayed for a few hours, but things quickly got a little weird. Kinsley disappeared with the guy she was talking to, then reappeared about 45 minutes later. She chatted with us again for a little while, then told us she had to go. She was pretty drunk and when Brody gently asked if she needed a ride, she said a friend was picking her up.
"What are we going to do with her?" Lauren asked after Kinsley had left.
I gave her a weird look. "What do you mean?"
"She can't keep running around and sleeping with every guy that smiles at her!" Lauren exclaimed with exasperation.
"Why not?" I asked.
Now it was Lauren's turn to give me a weird look. "I think she's making a mistake," she said after a long pause. "Or several."
"She's hurting," I said.
"I'm not so sure," Lauren replied. I got a little frustrated with the conversation. Of course I was worried about Kinsley, but judging her wasn't going to help. Shortly after, Brody complained of being exhausted from traveling and we took off.
"So, that got weird," he said, once we were on the way home.
I snorted. "You weren't there when Alex called Lauren out and told her she used to do the exact same thing.
"I bet that went well," Brody replied wryly.
"Better than you'd imagine, but it was a little awkward. Things are going to be weird for awhile, I think."
"I'm too old for this shit," he said, shaking his head.
I laughed. "So am I." It was going to be an interesting few weeks, at least.
Early Sunday morning, I woke up to Brody wrapping his arm around me and snuggling against me. I shifted a little and settled more comfortably against him. We laid there for a few minutes, and then he kissed my shoulder and said, "I'm going to get up and get a little work done. We'll do some wedding stuff this afternoon?"
"Yeah," I agreed sleepily. "What time are we having dinner with your mom?"
"Oh, I forgot to tell you, sorry. I called her and she said she meant next weekend. So not tonight." I nodded and burrowed further into the blankets as he got up. I fell back asleep quickly and slept for a few more hours.
When I finally dragged myself out of bed, I made myself breakfast, cleaned up the kitchen, and settled myself on the couch with my Kindle until lunchtime. I decided to make the homemade barbecue chicken pizza I'd been planning to make on Friday until I came home and discovered Brody already home and making dinner. Brody came out while I was in the middle of prepping it and asked if I needed help. I shook my head. "Want me to turn the oven on?" he asked.
"No, because I'm cooking it on the grill," I replied. He gave me a weird look, and I realized he had been deprived of grilled pizza so far in his life. "Trust me," I assured him.
He ended up enjoying the grilled pizza and agreeing that it was a good choice. I let him clean up after and went to get my wedding stuff on my laptop ready to show him. When he joined me, I talked him through what Kendra and Lauren had helped me with on Thursday. "Our main priority right now should be figuring out timelines, guest list, and addresses, because invitations need to go out really soon," I informed him. "Then we need to get our other services booked--photographer, flowers, music, and of course someone to actually marry us."
We talked through timelines, and I stubbornly insisted on wanting some photos done around sunset. After talking through numerous options that would allow us to do that, we decided on a timeline that had photos first, a cocktail hour that started while we were taking photos, an evening ceremony followed immediately by dinner, then the rest of the reception. I sent an email to Leigh to get her advice on actual times and make sure this was possible, then we set to work doing some research on the other things we'd need.
I'd sent an email to Kendra's photographer, who was unsurprisingly already booked for that day, but said there was a talented photographer with a very similar style that was just getting started that he'd worked with a few times that might be a good option. I'd contacted her and she was available and priced reasonably. Brody and I went through the photos on her site and emailed her again asking to meet with her. We sent a ton of emails and made some appointments, booking up most of the next Saturday with them.
After that, we moved onto the guest list. I pulled up the original list we'd made, and we bickered a little about some of the people on it. "We have enough space, and not all those people will come anyway," Brody said, after I shook my head at his addition of a friend he hadn't talked to in 3 years.
"That's the not point," I snapped back. "I don't want our wedding day to be a three-ring circus of people we barely know!"
"There are several people you have on the list that I've never met," he pointed out.
"They're family members that I see every year!" I was getting frustrated, and I cursed myself as my eyes started to well up. I hate that I'm a frustrated crier.
"Whoa," Brody said, his tone softer. "What's going on?"
I took a deep, shaky breath and tried to get myself together. "Getting married in front of a ton of people scares the shit out of me," I admitted.
He looked puzzled. "Okay..." he said, considering his next words carefully. "Do you know why?"
I nodded, and I furiously brushed loose pieces of hair out of my face. "It's hard enough to talk about my feelings with you, the idea of having feelings in front of a ton of people, some of which I'm bound to not know, or not know well, is absolutely terrifying. I cry at the drop of a hat, so I'll probably sob through the ceremony, and everyone is going to want to hug me, and that all kind of sounds like my worst nightmare."
Brody took my laptop out of my lap and gently closed it, setting it aside. He put his arm around me and I leaned against his should. "That makes sense," he said. "We could always scrap the plans and get married on a beach somewhere, just the two of us."
"You are perfect," I said. "But I really do want our close friends and family to be there. I'm just worried about it getting too big, and I'll be nervous no matter what. I'm sorry I tried to uninvite your friend."
"Well, technically he's not invited yet, so you're good," he joked. "I know we need to get this list done and get the addresses really soon, but maybe we should stop for today. We can finish it on Tuesday and then we can get addresses after that, and try to have everything to Lauren's mom by next weekend."
"Okay," I agreed. I was overwhelmed and tired of wedding planning anyway. "I can still send her the timeline and she can work on the invitations this week at least." Lauren's mom had offered to design our invitations and address all the envelopes. She planned to bring them with her when she came out to visit so that we could mail them right away the first week in August. In the meantime, we were sending out emails to all the people that we felt really strongly about having there to make sure they had as much notice as possible.
Brody looked at his watch, and I craned my neck to see it. It was 4:30. We'd been doing this for close to 4 hours without a break, no wonder I was over it. "It's been awhile since we've been out on an actual date," Brody commented. "Do you want to go out tonight? We can go have dinner and maybe find something else to do."
"Yes!" I agreed enthusiastically. "That sounds great."
I went upstairs to shower and shave. After my shower, I pulled on my robe and dried and curled my hair and put on makeup. I picked out a dress I hadn't worn since last summer and pulled it on. When Brody came out of the bathroom, he zipped it up for me, and then let out a low whistle. "You look amazing," he said appreciatively.
"Thanks," I replied, eyeing him up as he stood there in just a towel. "So do you."
"Save it for later, perv," he said, smirking at me as he pulled open his closet door.
Once we were both dressed and ready, we headed into town, discussing restaurant choices on the way. When we were settled at a table at our chosen restaurant, Brody said, "We haven't gotten to the fun part of wedding planning yet."
"Which is?" I asked.
"Planning the honeymoon."
"Oh no," I said. Brody gave me a weird look. "That's not on my list. I forgot that there's something else to plan!"
Brody couldn't help but laugh at me. "Well, since you planned Mexico, and you've done most of the legwork for the wedding planning so far, what if I planned the honeymoon?"
"I would love if you planned the honeymoon," I said, relieved. I couldn't fathom adding one more thing to the list at this point.
"One condition," he said, holding up a finger. I nodded at him to continue. "I want free rein to plan, which means I get to spend however much I want."
I narrowed my eyes at him, then remembered the amount of newly acquired money we'd talked about just two days earlier. "Deal," I agreed. "I don't even want to know how much you spent. Then my brain won't implode if it's too much."
"Done," he said, holding his hand out to shake on it. I rolled my eyes, but laughed and shook. I had a feeling I just agreed to having one hell of an over-the-top honeymoon.
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