Chapter 10
CHAPTER TEN
LUNA
The day I had to walk into the hotel and away from Marcum was devastating. He may have said it wasn’t the last time we’d be seeing each other once we kissed in the parking lot, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that it was. Still, the memory of our night together has given me the memories needed to add a little bit of oomph to my future sex scenes.
Men like him don’t settle for women like me. That’s just the way it goes. He’ll find himself someone who’s model beautiful and I’ll end up with an accountant who thinks tax season is on the same level as Christmas.
Marcum has surprised me, however. He was the first to reach out, sending me a meme he found funny. I admit, his sense of humor is like a breath of fresh air. Mostly, he sends me things biker related, but my favorite is the one with a kitten wearing a mini helmet sitting on the handlebars as a biker rides down the road.
His text that followed that one has me grinning.
Marcum: Would you still find me sexy if I went to the shelter and found myself a kitten and trained it to ride with me?
I laughed so hard when he asked me that, tears fell down my cheeks. I responded of course, biting my lip waiting for his reply.
Me: I’d toss you down and ride you like a bronco bull. Does that answer your question?
That resulted in a phone call where he told me that he could arrange that. I told him that if he did, I’d put on my shitkickers and a tight pair of bootcut jeans. Then that progressed where he demanded I put on that attire and pose for him. I did more than just toss on the outfit, I curled my hair, added my cowgirl hat and wore a tight V-neck shirt. I posed in front of my white wooden fence and told him his cowgirl was waiting.
Now he has a fantasy that I had to swear I’d help him create the next time our paths crossed.
Shaking my head, I focus on my current manuscript. It amazes me that I somewhat plot out my stories but when I put my fingers on the keyboard, my characters run amuck.
“Dammit, I need to just erase that,” I mutter, my pinky hitting the delete button. I swear I can almost hear my character chortling as I rework what I was going to say.
One day, these guys and gals are going to get with the program and realize that I run the show and their lives, until then, I’ll continue to somewhat give them their way. After all, following their script is what has my readers enthralled with the life they lead.
My phone rings, and I sigh. Normally, I turn my ringer off, but I’m afraid that if I do, Marcum will try to reach out and I’ll miss him. I wish I understood what my fascination with the man is, and when I voiced that concern to him, he advised me to let it ride. Neither one of us can predict the future, therefore, we should ride the wave until we reach the sand. I asked him if he was a surfer in a past life because he loves using metaphors dealing with surfboards and oceans when it comes to us.
His response was as expected, the only waves he’s ever ridden were the ones between a woman’s thighs. If I were any other woman I’d be jealous of the fact that he’s as experienced as he is, but for some unknown reason to me, I’m not. I may not have as much experience as he does under my hat, but I do have a past too so I can’t judge a man who thought he’d be living a life of solitude.
“Hello,” I answer with a grin on my face after reading the caller ID and seeing my best friend’s face flash across the screen.
“Bitch, I miss your face,” Demi says. “I’m back in town, girl and I need a wing woman to go out with me while I paint the town.”
“Demi,” I groan.
Her version of painting the town as opposed to mine is astronomical. I don’t mind hitting up the bars and relaxing with a mixed drink or maybe even two, but my bestie, she takes things to an entirely different level.
“My bail fund is still depleted from the last time you came home,” I tell her.
“That was a misunderstanding, Luna,” she declares.
“Punching the bartender in the nose was a misunderstanding? Demi, seriously?”
“It was,” she insists. “I can’t help it that she leaned into my fist, Luna.”
“After she called you a Barbie doll? That was you lashing out, Demi.” I’d take a bullet for her, I really would, but whenever she’s around, I always end up paying fines to bail her out or end up in a brawl. I hate being punched, that shit hurts and the bruises last for weeks. At least if I ate lead, I would be too drugged up to give a damn.
“I was simply reaching out,” Demi excuses. “She’s the one that took it as we were fixing to rumble, Luna. She dove for me, remember?”
“And… you were reaching out to do what exactly, Dem?”
“I was gonna fix her collar,” she lies. “That thing sticking up in the air wasn’t a good look for her.”
“Neither is me wearing an orange jumpsuit,” I say, snorting.
“You got me there. Orange does wash you out, you look better in earth tones.”
“Demi, I swear. You drive me to the point of insanity. I can never tell if what you're saying is a slam or a backhanded compliment.”
“I’d never insult you, Luna. You’re my girl,” she argues. “Come on, Luna. Come out with me.”
“Maybe,” I tease her, knowing damn good that I’ll be right there with her no matter what.
“I’ll pick you up at six. Love ya,” she sings as she disconnects the call.
“Asshole,” I mumble as I sit my phone down beside me. Looking back at my screen I groan. Now, I’ve lost my train of thought and there’s no way I’ll be getting any more work done today. Thank God I’m ahead of the game with my pending releases. My personal assistant and I decided to do books that were not as long so I was able to release them quickly. I have some longer manuscripts I’m working on, but they’re for new series that won’t be ready for a bit. My new game plan involves having several books done and ready to go before I put them up for preorder. It’s something I picked up at the signing after talking to several author friends.
Guess I’ll soak in the tub until it’s time for her to pick me up.
“Want another drink?” Demi shouts over the jukebox.
I’m feeling nauseous so I decline with a shake of my head and place my hand over my tummy.
“Hungry? They have a menu here. It’s mostly finger foods to sop up the alcohol, but I saw an order of onion rings come out earlier and got a whiff of them, they smelled delicious.”
The thought of downing food has me dropping my purse in her lap and sprinting toward the bathroom. I pray along the way that I make it in time because right now, it’s not looking that way. I shove three women aside as I shuffle past them, my hand now covering my mouth as bile rises into my throat.
“Excuse you,” a snotty voice says. “You can’t cut past us. We’ve been waiting for nearly twenty minutes.”
When an arm reaches out and grabs me, I remove my hand from my lips to apologize and make my excuses, but instead, I projectile vomit all over her.
I feel a slap across my face which has my head twisting with the momentum of the hit.
“Hey, bitch. What’s your malfunction?” I hear Demi ask as she goes toe to toe with one of the three women who are squaring up to me.
My stomach feels better now that I’ve expelled it, and the next thing I know, we’re a part of a full out bar brawl.
Fuck my life.